She stepped away from him.
“Do you need something?”
She’d have to make a list.
Yesterday’s craving came back to her in full force. “A latte?”
He nodded and walked back to his desk, pressing the intercom button on his phone. “Christophe, I need a latte.” He looked back at Noelle. “How do you like it?”
“Vanilla. With whipped cream.”
He repeated the instructions to Christophe then cut off the connection.
“It will be here soon,” he said.
She wanted to cry, and it was the stupidest thing. Yet she couldn’t stop the ache of emotion that tightened her throat. No, it wasn’t emotion, she told herself. It was her recent choking experience. That was all. “Thank you.”
“Now, shall I repeat my offer or will it send you into a fit again?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I choked. Although if it had been a fit, it wouldn’t be overly surprising, would it?”
“Marriage in exchange for your home. Free and clear, not owned by the bank, but by you.”
Well, wasn’t that a bright shiny poison apple? Take a bite, dearie. “What’s the catch? Why me?”
“I thought you might have a bigger stake in this than a stranger would. Think about your mother seeing you in the news, rising back to the top on my arm. The simple truth is, I need a wife to get the company. And if that wife was you, if you were a part of taking it from my father’s grasping hands, well, it would be that much sweeter.”
“That’s … I don’t know. I don’t know if I can be involved in this. It’s …”
“Let me simplify it. If you marry me, in name only, and divorce me once Grey’s is transferred into my name, you get your house. And the rest of it doesn’t need to matter to you.”
“How can it not matter to me?” she asked.
He shrugged. “That’s up to you. But how do you think it would be for your mother to see you in the paper, to see you back at the top? In circles she can’t move in any more, not once you’re in them. Because then they might find out what she did to you. Maybe you don’t have legal recourse, but you can close her out of society. If I remember her correctly, that mattered a great deal to her.”
Noelle tried to think through the pulse pounding in her temple. “Yes. It did. Does.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice to take a piece of that back from her?”
Yes. Yes it would. And no, she didn’t think she was bigger than that. Because all her life, she’d been nothing more than her mother’s ticket in. A chance for her to move in the circles she’d always dreamed of while Noelle did all the work to keep her there.
“How do I know I can trust you?” she asked.
“How do you know you can trust anyone?”
Noelle thought of her mother. Of finding out one day that the penthouse in Manhattan was empty … and so was her bank account. “I suppose you can’t.”
“Time. A blood relationship. Marriage vows. None of it can ensure you know someone. But you have nothing to lose. You can only gain. You don’t have anything else for me to take.”
Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but she wasn’t planning on announcing it anytime soon. “But this would be …” She fought the blush creeping into her face. “Not a real marriage, right?”
“A real wedding. A legal marriage. But nothing more. Nothing permanent or physical.”
“Oh.” It sounded simple. Uncomplicated and … tempting. A chance not only to get her home back, but to have the bank stop calling and sending notices. A chance to show her mother she hadn’t won.
“In the interest of us knowing each other better, I’m going to ask you some questions and you will answer me. Honestly.”
Noelle blinked, the change of topic making her head spin. “Are you interviewing me for the position?”
“As any good businessman would.”
Noelle shifted, uncomfortable beneath his assessing gaze.
“I know you’ve never been married,” he said.
“No.” She shook her head.
“Do you have a man in your life? A lover?”
She nearly laughed. Where would she have kept a lover? In her suitcase while they were on the road? Her mother would never have allowed such a thing. Sure, she got to make time for men, but she would never have permitted Noelle the same luxury. Would never have let her compromise her image like that. And now … Well, she wasn’t about to bring a date back to her big empty house and tell him all about how washed-up she was over a cup of bargain-brand soda.
“Not at the moment,” she replied dryly.
“Good. It would have to remain that way for the duration of the arrangement. For appearances.”
“I think I can manage that.”
An answering smile curved his lips. “Excellent.”
“And I’ll get my house?”
“And then some.”
“What else?” she asked, hating that she cared. Hating that she was tempted.
“I would give you a settlement when we divorced. That’s in addition to all the media attention you’ll get as a result of our association. I attend a lot of events and as my fiancée, you would attend with me.”
The longing that assaulted her was like a great, dark pit opening up inside. Empty and huge, waiting to be filled. Needing it.
Parties and people and cameras. Luxury. Things that had been so absent from her life. A link to the girl she’d been, the things she’d had. This was a chance to have it again. She despised the weakness in her that wanted it. That needed it.
And yet she felt crushed by the desire for it.
There was a quiet knock on the door and Christophe came in, latte in hand. The wide-mouthed caramel-colored mug was like a vessel of life in her eyes. She hadn’t bought coffee in weeks, months maybe. Not even for the machine at home.
She took it in her hands and let the heat from the ceramic seep into her palms. “Thank you,” she murmured, her throat tight again.
Christophe smiled and made a hasty exit, as she imagined he was paid to do. Quiet efficiency.
She took a sip and was horrified when her eyes blurred with tears. She blinked hard as she swallowed the warm, comforting liquid, allowing it to soothe the pain in her chest.
She lowered the cup and looked fixedly at the
