like you can keep a playboy like me in line. But we’ll make lots of public appearances and show them that you can.”
She had no idea what keeping a playboy in line was like. She was already paying the price for dallying with a con man, and now she was being propositioned by a drop-dead gorgeous, modern-day Don Juan. The idea of getting close to Rand scared her senseless. He was everything she should be trying to avoid. Hot and seductive, she thought, and oozing with wealth and charm. Just like Rich when she’d first gotten to know him.
“How long would this marriage last?” she asked.
“It takes about three months to get the immigration interview. I have a friend who works for the USCIS, so I can try to pull some strings and get it moved up. He can definitely get your security clearance done faster.”
She wasn’t surprised that someone as well-off and socially connected as Rand would know someone at the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services.
“We’ll have to work out a prenup that’s comfortable for both of us,” he said. “I don’t want things to get sticky later. But either way, after you get your green card and after I prove myself to the board, we can decide when we should split up. We’ll part amicably. Then after the divorce, we can go our separate ways and no one will be the wiser.”
“I’m not interested in a financial settlement, so a prenup wouldn’t be a problem.” Being dependent on Rand to replace what Rich had stolen wasn’t the answer to restoring her self-worth. She would rather make her own way, even if she struggled to do it.
“So what do you think of my idea?” he asked.
She tried not to frown. “Of marrying you? What you’re proposing is considered fraud. If immigration found out that we faked a marriage, there would be penalties involved. I suspect that your friend at the USCIS wouldn’t appreciate you dragging him into a situation like that, either.”
“I know, and that’s why we couldn’t tell anyone the truth, not even our friends or families. In order to make something like this work, we’d have to live the lie.” Rand’s expression turned dark. “The pressure the board of directors is putting on me isn’t just to clean up my act. There’s a company here in Royal that they expect me to bring in as a new client. And if I don’t secure that account, I’ll be ousted for sure. I’ve been trying to set up meetings with the other company, but their CEO hasn’t responded to my calls. From what I’ve been told, he has concerns about my reputation, too.”
“And you think having a wife will help?”
“It’s the only solution I can think of that will improve my image in a quick and noticeable way.” His expression grew even stormier. “You know what makes it worse? My father was always telling me that I was too much of a party animal to be taken seriously, that someday my behavior would come back to bite me in the butt. He criticized me every chance he got, even when I was a kid.”
Allison considered how much information Rand was sharing. Rich used to confide in her, too. But all of his confessions were lies. She hoped Rand wasn’t embellishing his tales to create a false sense of intimacy. Although she didn’t doubt that he needed a wife, just how far would he go to get one?
“Where is your father now?” she asked.
“He died last year, but I’ve been feeling the brunt of his words more than ever now. I swear I can just hear him saying, ‘I told you so,’ along with everyone else who’s convinced I’m not worthy of my job.”
She couldn’t hear anything but the frustration in his voice. “Are you sure that people will even believe that we’re a true couple?”
“Granted, we’ll be an unlikely match, but you know what they say about opposites attracting.” He winked at her. “Especially if we show everyone how desperate we are for each other.”
Allison’s thoughts scrambled. Was their desperate union supposed to include sharing the same bed? Was that part of the plan of them seeming like a genuinely married couple? Just thinking about it was sending her into a tailspin.
She wanted to remain in the States, to defy the odds, to get her green card. But could she marry Rand? A man she didn’t even know if she could trust?
“Are you interested?” Rand asked. “Will you consider marrying me?”
Allison fidgeted in her seat. A Texas heartthrob, a man she’d been crushing on, was offering to make her his wife and help her get the green card she so urgently wanted. To some women, this would be a no-brainer. But it wasn’t that simple. Not to her, anyway. And especially not if he tried to lure her into bed.
She said, “If I agree to do this, there isn’t going to be any intimacy. We can’t...”
He turned more fully toward her, one of his legs nearly bumping hers. “Sleep together?”
Her pulse jumped. “Yes.”
He roamed his gaze over her. “I didn’t think it would be an option.”
“You didn’t?” This was the most uncomfortable conversation she’d ever had. And the way he was checking her out with those wild green eyes was only making it worse. “I assumed that maybe you would...”
“I would what? Try to seduce you? I’m used to having affairs, so, yeah, it crossed my mind. But you’re different from anyone else I’ve ever been with. You just seem so—” he brought his hand to her face, skimming his knuckles along her cheek “—innocent, somehow.”
My goodness, my Guinness. For someone who wasn’t supposed to be seducing her, he was doing a dandy job of it now. She couldn’t think clearly, with the way he was touching her.
She forced herself to say, “You shouldn’t be doing that.”
He lowered his hand. “I shouldn’t?”
“No.” She didn’t want her attraction to him distorting her common sense. “I still need to decide if I’m going to marry you.”
“Well, are you?”
“It scares me, doing something so fraudulent.” Trusting him scared her, too. But was she making too much of that? He wasn’t a sociopath like Rich. He was just a man who needed to reform his image. His womanizing image, she reminded herself. He wasn’t exactly an angel.
She didn’t know what to do. If she married him for her green card, she would be committing a crime. If she didn’t, she would be dragging her sorry arse back to Kenmare.
“I’d rather have an answer sooner than later,” he said, “but you can sleep on it, if you think that’ll help.”
“It won’t.” She didn’t want to think about sleeping on anything—or with anyone, for that matter.
“Then what’s your decision?”
She considered her choices. Stay and regain her confidence? Or retreat and return to Ireland? Given her plight thus far, marrying him was beginning to seem like her only option. And at this point, she would rather take her chances with Rand
