name?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “Should I have heard it?”
“I know yours. And not just because you’re famous. Or, more accurately, I know your mother’s name.”
“How?”
“Do you know the name Damien Grey?”
“I …” She almost said no. But it was a name she knew, not the last name, but the first. A very familiar name. “Yes. Well, Damien, but … it could be a different Damien.”
“I’m betting not. Damien Grey is my father, and for several years, he was your mother’s lover.”
As revelations went, it shouldn’t have been shocking. It wasn’t as though she’d believed her mother had been out having tea parties while Noelle spent nights alone in grand hotel suites before performances, but her mind had never gone there.
She did remember her mother talking about Damien, though. Meeting him. Staying with him. She’d been eight, maybe, when that had started and she simply hadn’t put the relationship in the right context.
“I always thought he was in the music industry,” she said, realizing how stupid that sounded. She shook her head. “But what does this have to do with me? Or is it all part of drawing out the torture that has been the past year of my life? I’m not quite dead yet, want to land the fatal blow?”
“I have a proposition for you.”
She gave him a pointed glare and drew on every shred of strength she’d been building in herself for the past year. “If this has anything to do with filling the position in your life that my mother filled in your father’s, you can take your proposition and shove it up your—”
“I’d like you to be my wife.”
She took a step back and sucked in air, choking on it, coughing and coughing while trying to catch her breath.
“Are you all right?” Ethan took a step toward her and she held up her hand, gesturing for him to stop. A gesture he ignored.
He put his hand on her back, his touch warm and … comforting, in some strange way. A connection. She hadn’t had a connection with anyone in so long. She wondered if she ever truly had.
She cleared her throat and breathed deeply. “I’m fine now.” 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
