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A Virgin for His Prize(27)

By:Lucy Monroe


“Should I?”

He considered that for a moment. “Perhaps not, but I have never lied to you, nor will I ever.”

“I’m not sure you telling me that in the same conversation you admit to setting up a truly untenable situation for me can carry much weight for me.”

Max’s eyes narrowed. “Call Jeremy Archer.”

“He lies.”

“If anything, he would be tempted to deny it, yes?”

“Yes. So, why would you trust him to back you up?”

Max shrugged. “Few businessmen in this town would cross me without very strong provocation. Viktor maybe, but Jeremy? He’s too wrapped up in his company to risk it by lying about me.”

“Without compelling cause.”

“Precisely.”

“How do I know my dad is in rehab?” She wasn’t sure what was pushing her to question the reliability of everything he claimed, but she had this irresistible urge to prick the bubble of his confidence.

Even if only a little.

Rather than appear in the list “pricked,” Max looked smugly satisfied by his planning. “He will get a single phone call before going into immersion therapy, during which he will be allowed no external contact. Not with family. Not for his business.”

“That works in your favor.”

“It is my habit to make sure most things do.”

“Wow, the arrogance level just skyrocketed in here.”

Max smiled, amusement glinting in his gray eyes. “Arrogance is defined as excessive confidence. Mine, on the other hand, is well-founded.”

“I won’t argue that.”

“I would not expect you to. You are far too intelligent to take on the hopeless cause.”

“Oh, I don’t know. According to a lot of men in your position, my activism on behalf of the environment is exactly that.”

“I do not agree.”

And that should give her hope, shouldn’t it? How pragmatic was it to be a CEO so committed to sustainability? She was sure he would say very pragmatic, but only if you had an eye and a heart for the future.

Was he closer? He seemed closer. “Tell me something.”

“Anything.” The heat of his hand burned through the fabric of her leggings.

“I wish you meant that, but I won’t push it.” The temptation to lean into him was huge and growing. She fought it, trying to stay focused on what needed saying. “I just need confirmation of something.”

“Yes?”

“Would you ever walk away from your child as your father and your mother’s lover did with you?”

“No.” The word fell with the weight of a boulder between them, every ounce of lust in his expression transforming to determination.

No doubt he meant it.

It made her doubt his willingness to walk away from her as well. He thought he could and most likely would, but she wasn’t so sure. Especially if they decided to have children together.

If he didn’t let himself love her, he wasn’t going to fall for someone else, either. And no other power but love was going to make this man rip the fabric of his family.

No matter what he told himself, or her, for that matter.

“You are just a mass of contradictions, aren’t you?”

“Not at all,” he said with a different kind of force and obvious horror at the very idea.

She laid down her own line in the sand. “I’m not agreeing to anything today.” She waited for him to take that in.

If his first reaction was to try to obliterate it, they were done here. No matter what extra aces he’d slipped into his hand, she wasn’t playing.

“Today?” he asked with emphasis on the single word.

“Today.”

“This is not an indefinite offer.”

“Oh, I know, but you’re smart enough to realize that little box isn’t getting opened this afternoon.” She flicked her head toward the dining table and the Tiffany box still sitting unopened near her now empty plate.

Max’s head tilted, a predatory light growing in his eyes. “I thought it was.”

“Well, I guess even Corporate Tsars can be wrong sometimes.”

“Perhaps.” Nothing in his expression or relaxed posture indicated that bothered him.

He seemed…well, turned on. And that wasn’t what she was expecting in reaction to her statement. Though it certainly didn’t hurt in regard to how she wanted to spend the rest of their afternoon.

“Tonight, today…whatever, we go with my plan.”

“That entails…?” he asked with the air of a man who already knew.

Maybe he did. Or maybe, he was just so good at exuding confidence, it came naturally—even when he was in the dark.

“You and I test out our sexual compatibility in a bed and with complete follow-through.” He had to know what that meant because she wasn’t spelling it out. “I talk to my dad when he calls. Tomorrow, I talk to Jeremy Archer. Depending on that conversation, I decide whether I need to interrupt my SBC’s honeymoon.”