The Arrangement(7)

Ariadne shook her head. Even when he wasn’t trying, he managed to pick up women. The lady in question raised her glass to him and winked. “She’s not a natural redhead, you know,” she stated the obvious after the waitress had retreated.

Asher chuckled and beneath the table, Ariadne pressed her knees together to ease the sudden throbbing between her legs. Several women swiveled to stare at him. That damned laugh of his was lethal. “You sound jealous.”

“I’m not,” she denied hotly. “But are you sure you want to give up the single life?”

His eyes caught hers and held. “Yeah, I do.”

She sighed. “Are you sure you want to do this with me? It’s bound to raise questions since you’ve always despised me.”

His brows arched in surprise. “I don’t hate you.”

“You could have fooled me. Or anyone who’s ever met us.”

He shrugged. “They say there’s a thin line between love and hate. We’ll say the bickering was untapped sexual tension.” She would say no such damned thing. And her expression must have said so because he laughed again. She wished he’d stop doing that. The man was too easily amused. “You have a better idea?”

“I’d rather say nothing. Most people will be too polite to question it.”

“I wouldn’t be.”

She doubted anyone had ever described him as polite. “The reunion   is in July.”#p#分页标题#e#

His eyes widened. “Next month?” At her nod, he breathed out. “You’re really cutting it close.”

She shrugged. Whenever she thought about marrying him, her mind kept running in circles. Was it really worth it? But then she’d think about going to the reunion   alone and facing her cousin and Daniel. The anxiety had her stomach tied in knots.



    ***



“Dance with me,” he demanded suddenly and immediately wondered when he’d developed a masochistic streak. He couldn’t hold her in his arms and not get hard. He didn’t need her thinking his proposal was about sex for him. It wasn’t. But why shouldn’t he get something out of it, too?

“I can’t dance,” she said after a brief hesitation.

He shouldn’t be surprised. He’d never seen her dance. Studying her over the rim of his glass, he wondered why of all the women, this particular one kept him tied in knots. No doubt, she was beautiful, intelligent, and classy. She boasted thousands of admirable traits, all of which he’d encountered in many other women. But no one else stuck. Women he’d dated for months had less of an impact on him than she did. He’d had one all too brief taste of Ari and she’d been burned into his brain.

“I could teach you,” he murmured, draining his glass and placing it on the table. He spotted Ted and Erika on the dance floor. His friend whispered in his wife’s ear and she threw her head back and laughed.

“No, thank you.”

“So what do I need to say to get a yes?”

“To dancing or to marriage?”

“Marriage,” he said, hoping that she couldn’t sense his impatience.

“I need more time.”

“You need to decide before we leave the beach so that we can get the ball rolling.”

She put a hand to the collar of her blouse. Of course, it was primly buttoned all the way to the top. Even that turned him on. He envisioned undoing all those buttons one at a time and slowly revealing the warm curves of her breasts. Ari had a killer figure. Why she insisted on covering it up, he didn’t know. But the thought of being one of the few to ever see it, drove him wild. “I don’t even know where you live now,” she finally said.

“Charlotte, but I can move wherever you want.”

“What about work?”

He shrugged. His family was wealthy. He didn’t have to work. They both knew that. “I can get a job as a lawyer anywhere,” he pointed out. And as a teacher, she could do the same, but he wanted to the deal to be so sweet that she’d be hard pressed to deny him.

She wet her lips and he suppressed a groan. “Give me a couple more days. This isn’t something I can agree to lightly.”

He reached for his free drink. “Enjoying your drink?” The red head had come over. Thanks to Ariadne his eyes immediately sought out her dark roots. Not that he’d ever cared about whether or not a woman dyed her hair. Up close, he could tell she’d overdone her eye makeup. Thick eyeliner lined her lids. Her green eye shadow was so heavily applied that he wondered if she had any left. Her cheeks were so red she looked as though she’d been slapped. Only her lipstick was understated, but he suspected it probably lined the rim of the margarita glass she’d held up earlier. Under all the goop she might have been attractive, but it was difficult to tell.