A Virgin for His Prize(20)

He wanted her. She knew he did. He hadn’t denied it, either. What was wrong with him?

“I assure you, I would not joke about this.”

“Well, why the heck not?”

“One night would be in direct conflict with my own plans. I have my own deal for you to consider.”

“What is it?” she asked with very little grace and even less patience.

“Marriage.”

She was still choking on her own breath in shock when they turned into the parking garage for his apartment building.





CHAPTER FIVE

ROMI WAS STILL trying to come to terms with the bombshell Max had dropped in the car as he gave her a tour of his penthouse apartment.

She’d say he realized she needed time to collect herself, but that would be attributing a level of consideration she would never have accused him of in the past.

Not that he’d ever been inconsiderate with her, but he could change his name to Ruthless and it would so fit.

With a master suite that included a home office and a spa-sized bathroom, two guest bedrooms and a truly enormous living area that boasted a full-size living room, billiard area and dining room that merged into the kitchen, his home took up the entire top floor of his building.

Decorated in warm browns, coppers and brass accents, it was a very masculine space, but not at all utilitarian-feeling.

While the décor registered, his words sort of skated over her head. Her own thoughts were too scattered to settle in understanding, her hands cold and clammy where they were fisted at her sides.

Had he said marriage in the car?

Food was laid on the shiny mahogany table: small plates topped with Caesar salad, silver dome-covered entrée plates off to the side and a basket of Parmesan-crusted flatbread placed strategically between the two place settings. The tangy scent of Caesar dressing and garlic tickled her nose, even from the middle of the living room.

The setting was romantic, the Tiffany box on the table a glaring testament to the fact Max had not been joking in the car.

“Lunch smells good.” She moved toward the table and then spun to face him, unable to hold it in any longer. “You want to marry me?”

“Now you react. I thought you might not have heard me.” The humor in his tone was matched by the glint in his gorgeous gray eyes.

“I thought I had to have misheard you. Maybe you said carriage.” It was as likely as what he actually had said. “Or suffrage, or masonage.”

“Is that even a word?”

“Maybe? I don’t know. The Masons are a real thing right, so Masonage.” It should be a word.

In a move that would have appalled Helene Archer, who had been a free spirit in many ways, but firmly traditional when it came to proper manners, Romi rubbed her palms against the cotton knit of her leggings, getting rid of unwanted moisture.

His lips quirked at the corner. “I think perhaps you are in shock. Sit down. I will pour you a glass of wine.”

“Shouldn’t it be champagne?” she asked snarkily, but let him lead her to the table, where she settled into a chair with nothing like grace.

She just sort of plopped. Gobsmacked. That was a word, right? Kim from England, who had organized the clean air march back in April, said it sometimes.

Romi liked her. She was smart.

Oh, crap. Her mind was rabbiting all over the place to avoid that Tiffany box on the table.

“You don’t want to marry me,” she told him, sure she was right. “You don’t want to get married at all.”

“You are mistaken.”

Finally, something other than total annihilating confusion pushed at Romi’s brain. Anger suffused her. “A year ago, you were pretty clear that you weren’t looking for a lifetime.”

“No one can promise that.” Oh, he sounded so superior.

“You are wrong, Max. I know that’s hard for you to comprehend, but in this? You are totally off-base.” She crossed her arms and glared up at all six feet five inches of him. “Millions of people make just those kinds of promises all the time.”

He wasn’t impressed. The flat line of his lips and equally flat look in his pewter eyes told her that. “And break them as often as not.”

“They still make them.” And if Max made a promise?

He would keep it. Ruthless he might be, but he kept his word. It was why he didn’t give it very often.

“That meeting I attended with Madison and her father was very illuminating,” Max said, apropos of nothing.

Romi continued to glare at him, letting her annoyance show. “Are you determined to keep me off balance?”

“It is a good negotiation tactic.”

“Am I a competitor you are hoping to absorb or defeat?” she asked, sounding downright cranky.