But as much as I hated it, I needed the money. He definitely could pay me, considering how famous he was and how many books he was selling. And one million dollars was going to go a long way for my family, really ease their burden as much as possible.
I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to get involved with Nash, or lie to the media, or lie to my parents. But I knew that if I could just stick it out for the rest of his book tour, then I could give my parents the money and they’d understand. I knew they’d understand.
They had to understand.
As I stood there staring at the door, the war inside me continued to rage. But really, I had come this far. All I had to do was knock on the door and go inside, and I was sure that Nash would do the rest.
I reached up and knocked.
My heart hammered in my chest. I couldn’t believe I was there, that I was really knocking. Part of me still thought that it was some complicated ploy to get me into bed.
The door swung open. “That was fast,” he said, and then stopped and looked at me.
“Am I too late?” I asked him.
He grinned hugely. “No. You’re right on time.” He moved aside. “Come on in.”
I walked into his hotel room, not sure what I expected. Inside it was relatively neat and clean, though for some reason I expected him to have stuff thrown all over the place.
“Have a seat,” he said. “I have food and drink coming, if you’re interested.”
“Thanks,” I said, sitting down at the table next to his bed.
“Not much, but it does the trick.” He sat down across from me.
“What?”
“The hotel room. Publisher went cheap with it for some reason.”
“Oh,” I said, looking around. “It’s nice.”
He laughed. “You’re nervous.”
I looked at him again, biting my lip. He was wearing a tight white T-shirt and jeans, an outfit I was much more familiar with. I could see tattoos snaking up his arms along his muscular biceps. His piercing green eyes were smiling at me, staring directly at me, and his mouth was pulled up into a delicious and maddening grin.
“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” I said.
“You’re here to marry me.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I am.”
“I have to admit, I’m a little surprised you showed up.”
“I’m a little surprised, too.”
He leaned forward on his elbows. “So tell me, Selena, why did you show up?”
For a second I was lost in his eyes, his lips. I quickly shook my head. “Money. I’m here for the money.”
“One million. Like we agreed.”
“Can you really pay?”
He laughed and stood up, walking over to his nightstand. He grabbed his phone and began tapping at the screen. He turned and showed it to me.
It was a bank account. Clearly listed in the savings was over a million dollars.
“Why the heck do you have this much money in the bank?” I asked, shocked.
“Where else would I keep it?” he grunted.
“Investments. Property. I don’t know, but I do know you shouldn’t just have that kind of cash sitting around.”
He laughed again. “I told you, I don’t give a shit about the money. But that’s enough proof that I can pay, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah, it is.”
He tossed his phone onto the bed and sat back down. “So, should we talk terms?”
“Okay,” I said, nodding.
“First, you can’t tell anyone the truth. Not your best friend, not your parents, not some stranger on the internet. Understood?”
“Okay,” I said, nodding.
“Next, you have to maintain the illusion as faithfully as possible. That means we sleep in the same room, maybe we kiss for the cameras, hold hands, all that shit.”
“No sex,” I said quickly.
He smirked. “No sex,” he agreed. “Contractually, at least.”
“This is all business, Nash.”
“Of course. All business.” He leaned back in his chair, appraising me. “Think you can handle this so far?”
I nodded, my heart beating fast. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Last condition. You get paid if and only if we make it through the entire book tour without getting caught. If someone figures out the truth, then you don’t get paid. If you tell someone on the last night, you don’t get paid. Understood?”
I nodded. “Sounds fair.”
“Okay then. That’s it for me.” He smiled. “Anything you want to add?”
“Just one thing. No sex,” I said. “I can handle the fake relationship stuff, the kissing and hand holding and all that, but when the doors are closed, we’re just business associates.”