She shook her head. ‘In this hypothetical situation you’re giving me a million pounds, Will. Nothing more will be asked of you.’
He frowned. That didn’t seem fair somehow.
She ate a huge piece of chocolate cake and then nodded and pointed her dessert fork at him, her tongue sweeping out to check for crumbs, leaving a shine on her bottom lip that made something inside him clench tight.
No! Don’t do that. Don’t look at Peter’s little sister like she’s a woman, for God’s sake.
‘I know how much you value your...independence.’
Her words hauled him back, and he glanced at her to find her staring at him expectantly. A frown built through him. It wasn’t like her to mince her words. ‘What are you driving at?’
She shrugged, almost reluctantly...and as if in resignation. ‘I know the thought of being monogamous to one woman fills your little bachelor heart with fear and loathing.’
He stiffened. ‘It’s not fear. It’s just... Why the hell would anyone want to do that?’
Her eyebrows lifted. ‘Whatever. What I’m trying to say is that I’m not expecting you to abstain sexually during this hypothetical paper marriage of ours. You could continue to have as many lovers as you wanted. But...’
His heart started to thump. ‘But...?’
‘You might want to consider being discreet.’
Ah. ‘I’d have no intention of making you look like a fool or a stooge, Sophie.’
She dabbed at her lips with a napkin. ‘While that’s a relief, it’s not really what I was getting at. I’m assuming we’d have to put on a convincing show for your grandfather.’
‘Only until we were married. I’d have legally binding contracts drawn up. He could do whatever the hell he wants with his title and money, but the deeds to Ashbarrow Castle would pass to me the moment I married.’
‘Well, in that case, once we’re hypothetically married you can be as indiscreet as you want.’
Would it really not bother her? ‘And you?’
‘You can be assured of my discretion.’
Her answer left him unsatisfied, though he didn’t know why.
‘We would have to agree to a minimum duration for this paper marriage too,’ she added. ‘Eighteen months, perhaps?’
He nodded again.
‘As for how we got married, that’d be entirely up to you—a quickie Vegas wedding, a big London society do, or something in between.’
His lip curled. There’d have to be a wedding. Nothing else would satisfy his grandfather, but he couldn’t face the thought of some big society affair. ‘Could you face a quiet family affair at Ashbarrow?’
She stared at him, and her soft laugh tripped down his backbone. ‘The real question, Will, is can you?’
It didn’t fill him with a shred of enthusiasm, but if it meant securing Carol Ann’s future...
She folded her arms, her eyes narrowing. ‘But I have to ask, hypothetically speaking, of course. If you were to embark on this paper marriage for real, why would you choose me? There has to be someone more suitable.’
Sophie might have a certain reputation in the tabloids but... He knew a lot of women—all more than happy to keep him company whenever he wanted—but he wouldn’t be able to rely on a single one of them to stick to an agreement like this.
Was he really considering this? His gut churned. Was he crazy? Or was this the answer he’d been searching so desperately for?
He drummed his fingers against the linen tablecloth. Beneath the table his foot began to bounce. ‘You know me and you know that I don’t want to give up either my freedom or my independence. I know you and what you want—money for a fresh start. We’d go into this arrangement with our eyes wide open. You wouldn’t be expecting a husband in the real sense of the word. I know you wouldn’t ever misconstrue our situation. Besides, you’re Peter’s little sister and, regardless of anything else, I don’t believe you’d try and take advantage of being married to me.’
She folded her arms, her chin angling up. ‘Are you sure about that?’
Positive. ‘You haven’t tried putting your price up to two million pounds, have you? Even though you know I’m considering a more than hypothetical arrangement here.’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t need two million pounds.’
Exactly.
If he married Sophie, it would secure Carol Ann’s future. He recalled those few weeks he’d brought her to London to live with him and acid burned his throat. He’d had such high hopes, but she’d become so distraught. She’d become so ill. And he’d been helpless to ease her homesickness and her grief at being torn from her home.
Peter had always felt responsible for Sophie in the same way Will felt responsible for Carol Ann. And if anything were to happen to Carol Ann...
His hands clenched. He couldn’t bear the thought, but it reminded him of all the unspoken promises he’d made to Peter when he’d sworn to keep an eye on Sophie—promises to help her wherever and whenever he could. And here was the perfect opportunity to do exactly that.
‘I trust you, Sophie.’ And there weren’t too many people he did trust.
She pursed her lips. ‘I’ve been in the papers a lot recently—always linked with a different guy. I know how much you hate any kind of tabloid attention.’
‘Do you mean to continue appearing in the gossip pages?’
‘God no!’
He believed her. ‘Which makes it a non-issue.’
She stared at him for a long moment. ‘If you were serious about this, we’d need lawyers to draw up pre-nup agreements. I couldn’t take you for anything more than that million pounds.’ The blue in her eyes started to dance. ‘And you couldn’t take my little property in Cornwall.’
‘Every word is music to my ears, Sophie.’
He poured out two glasses of champagne, and handed her one before raising the other in the air. ‘I’m game if you are.’
‘READY?’
Sophie swung from where she stood in front of a gently crackling fire that was more for show than warmth, and nodded across the room to an unsmiling Will. ‘Absolutely.’
It was only four days since their crazy lunch in Soho, four days in which they’d signed their names to
