and total stranger in a sterile room that smelled like soap and puppy chow. A stranger who was dressed as a reindeer. And now she was looking at him as if he was the crazy one.
Oh, the irony.
He wasn’t crazy. Nor was he impulsive, all evidence to the contrary. He was simply desperate. Which was also ironic, considering Anders’s name popped up in the tabloids from time to time as one of New York’s most sought-after bachelors. Anders Kent had an office with a corner window in Wall Street’s premier investment banking firm and a penthouse overlooking Central Park West. If he wanted something, he generally found a way to get it. Romantic entanglements included.
But his current predicament didn’t have anything to do with romance. Far from it. There wasn’t anything remotely romantic about sitting across a desk from your attorney and being told you had thirty days to find a wife.
Anders had been given just such an ultimatum at nine o’clock this morning, and his head had been spinning ever since.
Marriage?
No.
Hell no.
Anders didn’t want to get married—to anyone, least of all the hostile woman beside him who looked as if she was on the verge of prying Lolly’s puppy right out of his arms.
“What did you just say?” She swallowed, and the jingle bells at her throat did a little dance.
“Nothing.” Anders shook his head. He sure as hell wasn’t going to repeat himself. He shouldn’t have opened his mouth to begin with.
You don’t even know this woman’s name.
His gut churned. In the brief span of time since he’d left his lawyer’s office, something strange had happened to Anders. He’d begun to weigh every woman he came across as a potential wife...as if he truly had any intention to go through with the insane requirement.
He wouldn’t. Couldn’t. He’d fight it. He’d throw every dollar he had at fighting it until he won.
But legal battles took time. More often than not, they took years. And Anders didn’t have years. He had a month.
“It didn’t sound like nothing. It definitely sounded like a big fat something.” The woman’s eyes grew wide, panicked.
She’d gotten his message, loud and clear.
He should have phrased it differently, though. He was proposing a business arrangement, not an actual marriage.
Yes, he needed a wife. But not a real one, just a stand-in. A temporary wife. After Lolly’s guardianship was properly settled, everything could go back to normal.
His chest tightened. Normal was a pipe dream. It didn’t exist anymore. His life wouldn’t be normal ever again.
He took a tense inhalation and looked away from the dancing reindeer. “Never mind.”
“Never mind?” She threw her arms in the air. Jingle, jingle, jingle. “You can’t just ask someone to marry you and then take it back. This isn’t the season finale of The Bachelor.”
“I’ve never seen that show,” he said woodenly.
He couldn’t marry this woman. She watched garbage television. She was bubbly, brash and far too emotional. She was a bleeding heart who spent her free time visiting shelter dogs. Plus, she obviously despised him.
It would never work.
Unless...
He frowned.
Unless the fact that they were so clearly ill-suited for one another would be an advantage. He couldn’t marry anyone he actually found attractive. That would be a recipe for disaster. And he definitely wasn’t attracted to the reindeer.
He shouldn’t be attracted to her, anyway.
A surge of something that felt far too much like desire flowed through his veins. What the hell was wrong with him?
“I’m not going to marry you for a puppy,” she said hotly. She looked him up and down. “No matter how...nice...the two of you look together.”
She swallowed and averted her gaze, giving Anders an unobstructed view of the graceful curve of her neck.
Definitely a dancer, he thought. Her posture, coupled with the way she moved, was undeniably balletic. Beautiful, even in that silly costume.
“I thought you said I didn’t look like the Yorkie type,” he said.
Her cheeks went pink, but before she could respond the door swung open and a no-nonsense-looking woman wearing a T-shirt with Adopt, Don’t Shop printed across the front of it extended her hand.
“Hello, Miss Wilde. Mr. Kent. I’m the shelter manager.” She looked back and forth between them. “I understand there’s been a mistake.”
Anders nodded and glanced at Rudolph—whose actual name was Miss Wilde, apparently—and braced himself for the tirade that was sure to come. She hadn’t let the adoption counselor get a word in edgewise. Why would she hold her tongue now?
But she didn’t say a thing. Instead, she crossed her arms and stared daggers at him while the shelter manager reviewed their respective paperwork.
He’d dodged a bullet. There were countless single women in New York. He didn’t know what had possessed him to propose to this one.
Still, there was a sadness in her eyes that made him feel like his heart was being squeezed in a vise. Anders had seen enough sadness in recent days that it made him want to do something to take away that melancholy look in her eyes—something that was sure to make her smile.
“Here,” he said, holding the little dog toward her.
He had more than enough to worry about without adding alleged puppy thievery to the list. He’d simply have to find another dog for Lolly. It was sure to be easier than finding a wife.
“She’s yours.”
The tiny dog squirmed in Chloe’s arms as she watched the brooding man—her erstwhile fiancé—cross the length of the lobby and walk out the door in just three bold strides.
What just happened?
Wordlessly, she stared after him until the shelter manager cleared her throat.
“Well,” she said. “I guess that settles that. The dog is yours if you still want her.”
Chloe snapped back to the matter at hand. “I do. Definitely.”
Of course she still wanted the puppy. She was just having a hard time switching gears from being proposed to by a total stranger to once again thinking about the logistics of puppy ownership.
“That
