In advance.” If this gamble didn’t work out, she didn’t want to be forced into another low-paying, dead-end job. She had bills to pay and an obligation to keep this house.
“If I give you the letter now, what’s to keep you from walking before the year’s up?”
“My word.”
He hesitated, his square jaw shifting. “Done. What else?”
Chaos clamored inside her. She licked her dry lips and smoothed her damp hands on her hips again. “You. I want you, Rand. In my life. In my home. In my bed. Exclusively. For that year.”
Rand recoiled as if she’d slapped him. “That offer is not on the table.”
She fought to conceal her pain.
Did you expect him to be thrilled?
Maybe not thrilled, but something less than appalled would have been nice.
But without their intense physical chemistry on her side, the odds of succeeding in this quest were next to nil. She might as well give up now and save herself the false hopes and heartache. Mentally and physically, she backed away. “Then I can’t help you.”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously and the gold flecks in his irises glittered dangerously amidst the green. “What is this? Another attempt to get a ring out of me? I’ve told you before, I don’t do commitment.”
No, and he never would if she couldn’t get past the boundaries he guarded so carefully. Last time he’d never spent an entire night in her bed or even met her mother. If she wanted her plan to succeed, she had to find a way to slip past his defenses and make him a part of her life. But she’d have to be careful. Rand would bolt if he thought she entertained even the faintest hope for wedding bells in their future.
She held his gaze and forced a lackadaisical smile even though her nerves stretched as tightly as piano wires.
“I’m not asking for forever. Just twelve months. You’re not so irresistible that every woman wants to marry you, Rand. You and I both know this job is going to take long hours and involve a lot of overnight travel. I already have no social life—and therefore no sex life. Whatever else may have been lacking between us, the sex was always good.”
Raw, urgent hunger exploded in his eyes and his chest expanded on a swiftly drawn breath. Her heart missed a beat.
He remembered their passion.
And that subtle reaction gave her hope and the grit to press on. She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “When do we start?”
What man in his right mind would refuse sex with a beautiful woman he desired?
He would.
“I can’t give you what you want.” Rand forced the words through a locked jaw.
Tara lifted a hand and tucked a golden curl behind her ear. Rand clenched his fingers on the memory of how soft her hair had been against his skin and tangled around his hands and wrists. While part of him mourned the long, loose curls, he had to admit the way the chin-length style bared her neck and shoulders was sexy as hell. Professional, but just tousled enough that a man knew she wouldn’t mind him messing her up.
“Sex?” Her lips stretched in a tight smile.
“Love.” He almost couldn’t say the word. He didn’t do love. Would never do love.
He was, according to his family, a carbon copy of his father. He’d learned the hard way not to allow himself the luxury of the destructive sentiment.
He’d seen how loving his unfaithful father had destroyed his mother and driven her to take her own life. And Rand had repeated the pattern when he’d broken up with his high school girlfriend before going away to college because he’d wanted to experience all the campus—meaning the female students—had to offer.
He was a selfish bastard, and because of that Serita had swallowed a bunch of pills that night after he’d left her. She’d been luckier than his mother. Someone had found her and called 911 before it was too late. Serita had survived loving a callous Kincaid.
“Ah. This is about what I said that night.” Tara ducked her head, but not fast enough to conceal her pink cheeks. And then she lifted her chin and met his gaze. Her eyes were such an intense cobalt-blue that when they’d first met he’d believed them to be colored contacts. He’d been wrong. “I goofed, okay? If you’d hung around long enough for me to apologize and explain that I was lost in the moment—”
“Lost in the moment? You said you loved me, that you wanted to marry me and have my children. You practically named them.”
The minute she’d said those words he’d bolted—to protect her from the curse of loving a Kincaid. And he’d worried about her for three solid weeks before returning to find her sneaking out of his father’s suite after midnight.
Tara Anthony had played him for a fool and he’d fallen for her innocent act. Never again.
Her color darkened and her gaze bounced away again. “Um, yeah. Sorry about that. But you’re … really good in bed.”
Once more looking directly at him she added, “We can live here or at your condo. Either place is about the same distance from the office.”
Every cell inside him balked. “I’m not playing house with you.”
“Then I guess this discussion is over. I’ll show you out.”
Dammit.
Rand snagged her arm when she walked past him, and awareness shot through him on contact with her warm, satiny skin. The electricity between them had been there from the first time he’d shaken her hand on the day she’d signed in as his father’s PA. He’d ignored the attraction between them—or tried to—for seven torturous months before saying to hell with it.
It had taken him a month to get Tara to go out with him and another one to get her into bed. Had she been playing him against his father the entire time?
“I no longer own the condo. I live in California.”
Her eyebrows lifted and what appeared to be genuine surprise filled her eyes. “I didn’t know you’d moved.”
That reminded him of her earlier comment. He’d ignored it before because he thought she was lying. “How could you not know I’d left the company? My departure from KCL had to have caused an upheaval, and my father must have hit the ceiling when I accepted a job with his West Coast competitor less than twenty-four hours after leaving KCL.”
“I didn’t know because I never returned to the office after … that night.”
“The morning I caught you leaving my father’s bedroom.”
Thick lashes descended to shield her eyes. She stubbed a toe into the carpet. “Yes.”
The same day he’d told his father to go screw himself because he was through screwing his oldest son. Those were the last words he’d spoken to Everett Kincaid.
“Why did you leave?
