his eyes at the thought of losing that company. It wasn’t financial, she was sure. But it was terribly important to Stone for some reason. And because she’d discerned that, she knew what her answer had to be.
“All right,” she said hoarsely. “It’s a deal. But there are three conditions.”
He only raised one eyebrow.
“I’d like to continue with my education—”
“You don’t need to finish school.” Impatience quivered in every line of his big body. “You’ll be doing me an enormous favor with this marriage. The least I can do is settle a sum on you at the end of the year. You won’t need to work at all.”
“I want to work,” she insisted. “And I want to go back to school.”
“You won’t be able to work,” he said. “Can you imagine what the press would do with that?”
Unfortunately she could. As one of the richest men in the country, Stone dealt with a ridiculous amount of intrusive press.
“You’d have to consider being my wife your job,” he said. “But I’ll pay your tuition if you insist on taking classes.”
“I do,” she said firmly. “I’ll reenroll for the summer session.”
“All right. Now what’s the third thing?”
She hated that she had to ask him for help with anything, but she had no choice. And it wasn’t for her. “My mother,” she said quietly. “The cost of her care—”
“Is not a problem for me,” he said firmly. Then he leaned forward. “In fact, if you like, we could move your mother into my home. There’s an apartment on the main floor for live-in help but I’ve never had anyone live in. She could stay there.”
It was a generous offer and a generous thought, even if he was doing it for selfish reasons. She swallowed, more tempted by the thought than she should be. It would make her life much easier in many ways. And she’d be able to see her mother every day, perhaps even help with her care
“Please,” Stone said. “I’d really like you to do this, Faith.”
She studied his handsome face, serious and unsmiling, his eyes intense with the force of his will and an odd feeling rippled through her. “All right,” she said. Then she cleared her throat and spoke more firmly. “I’ll marry you.”
The next morning, Saturday, he picked her up in his silver Lexus and took her to his home so that she could see where she’d be living and check out the apartment for her mother. He’d asked her to stop working immediately, and though he could tell she didn’t like it, she’d informed him when he picked her up that she was no longer employed.
“Don’t think of it as unemployed,” he advised. “You just switched jobs.”
She was silent as he maneuvered the car through Manhattan’s insanely crowded streets to the quieter area where he made his home.
He could see her chewing her lip as she had the night before and he wondered what she was thinking. Worrying, probably, about whether or not she’d made a bad decision.
As he braked for a light, he said, “Thank you. I know this isn’t an easy thing for you to do.” He put his hand over hers where it lay in her lap and squeezed. This time he was prepared for the sensation her soft flesh aroused. Or so he told himself. Still, the shock he’d absorbed when he’d touched her last night reverberated through him. All he’d done was place his hand beneath her chin, letting his fingers rest against the silken skin of her cheek.
He thought he’d steeled himself for the same reaction that had hit him yesterday when he’d touched her lip.
But he hadn’t been prepared for the strong current of attraction that tore through him, making him want to deepen the skin-to-skin contact in a very basic way. It was as if she was a live circuit and touching her plugged him in to her special current. He mentally shook his head. What was he doing, asking the girl to live in his home? Putting temptation right under his nose probably wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done.
Still, as he drew her from the car and took the elevator from the garage to his Fifth Avenue town house across from Central Park, he felt an immense relief. Faith had been sheltered her entire life. Who knew what kind of things might happen to a naive girl like her on her own? He’d promised his father’s memory that he’d take care of Faith, and he would.
Unlocking the door, he ushered her into his home. Inside the door, Faith stopped in the large central foyer, looking around. Though she’d spent her early years in a family that wanted for little, he imagined that the place seemed luxurious compared to the seedy little apartment in which she was living. Looking at it through her eyes, he watched her as he realized he was holding his breath waiting for her reaction.
“This is lovely,” she said quietly. “Simply lovely.”
He smiled, relieved. Straight ahead of them, a hallway led to the back of the house while a staircase just to the right of the hall climbed graciously to a landing that led to an upper floor. To the left was a formal living room with an equally formal dining room through an archway behind it; to their right was Stone’s office, with its masculine desk, lined shelves of books and office equipment that filled the surfaces of the built-in counters along one wall.
“I’m glad you like it.” He stepped around her and indicated the stairs. “Would you like to see the upstairs? I’ll show you your room.”
She moved obediently in the direction he indicated, climbing the stairs as he followed. He took her down the hallway past an open set of double doors, pausing briefly to indicate the masculine-looking master suite done in striking shades of burgundy, black and gold. “That’s my room.” Turning, he pointed to the doors just opposite. “And across the hall is a guest suite. Your room will be the next one on the right. It should suit you. It belonged to my mother years ago and I’ve never changed it.” He shook his head. “She may have her flaws but I can’t fault her taste.”
Leading her to her room, he pushed open both doors.
“Oh,” she said on a sigh, “it’s perfect.”
It was a charming, feminine suite decorated in soft lavenders and blues accented with pure white. Though it was slightly smaller than his, it was still spacious, with a walk-in closet, a sitting area and a large full bath. He walked past her into the bathroom. “Our rooms are connected,” he told her, sliding back a large set of louvered doors to reveal his bath and bedroom beyond. “No one will have to know we don’t share a room.”
She couldn’t look him in the eye. “All right,” she said in a muffled tone.
“Faith.” He waited patiently until finally, she gazed across the room at him. “This will be a good arrangement for both of us. I promise to respect your privacy.”
She nodded. Her cheeks had grown pink and he knew that she understood that he was telling her, in as gentle a way as he could, that she had nothing to fear from him sexually. No, appealing as she might be, he had no intention of changing the platonic status of their relationship.
By the time they had finished the house tour, it was lunchtime. He’d decided to show her how it would be when they lived together so he took her into the kitchen
