Page 17 of Handsome Devil
“Now, I’ve found a better use for you. It is far harder to find a bride than a secretary.”
Especially when you are the devil incarnate.
“How about…” I stopped, calculating my next move. This was negotiation. And Tate was bloody good at it.
He slipped one hand into the front pocket of his trousers and seemed to be tapping the side of his thigh through them impatiently. He was waiting for me to finish my thought.
“I mean, I’d love to date you and see where this is going,” I suggested feebly.
“First of all, no, you would not. And second, I don’t like to be lowballed. It’s marriage or nothing. Take it or leave it.”
“Are you forcing me—”
“No, not forcing,” he corrected offhandedly. “You’re free to walk from this place right this second. You’re free to walk out of myliferight this second. Free to keep your job regardless of your answer. Free to quit it. I am merely offering you a deal, and quite a generous one. Ask your friends’ husbands what kinds of deals I usually put on the table. They are never this benevolent.”
Row and Rhyland despised doing business with Tate. And they were people he didn’t outwardly despise. Where did it leave me?
“Well, I’m so bloody touched.” I put a hand to my rib cage. “That you’re altruistic enough to offer I become your whor—”
“Stop right there.” He raised his palm. “Nobody gets to call my future wife a slut other than me.”
“You plan to call me a slut?” I blinked fast. It was just my luck to work for a madman.
“Only in the bedroom.” He sucked on his cigarette, the ember burning orange. “You’ll love it.”
“Do you understand?” My teeth ground together to a point of dust. “You’re essentially forcing me to have sex with you to save my mother’s life?”
“Miss Bennett, you wound me. I would never force myself upon you.” His voice felt like the edge of a knife, cold and sharp, traveling along my skin. “You will come to me willingly. Happily. ’Tis human nature to seek warmth where one can get it.”
“Warmth?” I laughed humorlessly, nauseous with rage. “You’re high if you think I’d ever sleep with you. Even if we’d been married for a hundred yea—”
“Enough.” He put his cigarette out swiftly. “The human race has remarkable spirit. We have survived countless wars, famine, pandemics, natural disasters, oppression, floods, and nuclearaccidents. I have every faith you will survive—andthrive—in a marriage with a six-three handsome man worth ninety billion dollars who is fond of reciprocal oral sex and will leave you to your own devices. Your five minutes are up. Give me your answer.”
I hated him.
I hated him so much the hatred had a taste and a scent and a shape.
It was a living, breathing thing inside me.
It thrummed under my skin. Still, I knew I had no choice. He wasn’t going to budge. He had all the power.
All I could hope for was that this was one of our games. Something I could bargain my way out of at some point.
“Well?” Tate flicked his wrist to check his watch. It was, I realized, a tic. “What’s it going to be?”
“This marriage…” I took a deep breath. “How do you envision it?”
“With a rigid set of rules,” he replied. “We live in different corners of my estate. I provide you with money, security, freedom, and comfort. My means and connections would be at your disposal. You, in return, provide me with heirs, company, and arm candy for social events.”
“That’s all?” I frowned.
He quirked an eyebrow up. “Am I missing something?”
Yes. Friendship. Feelings. Love.
“And are you still going to be obnoxious to me?” I asked.
“Naturally.” He opened up his arms, undaunted. “You’re the only person I know who is foolish enough to defy me.”
