Almost like a piece of the puzzle that was her missing experience had been put into place sideways and didn’t quite fit.
Maybe it simply wasn’t what she’d expected him to say, though why not, she didn’t know. Surely she hadn’t believed this man who married her within hours of their meeting had fallen in love with her. Talk about crazy. Still, somehow hearing him say it left her feeling...confused.
So she asked, “If it’s not about love, then what?”
Connor gave her a satisfied grin. “All the vital components that make a relationship successful, without any of the emotional messiness to drag it down. It’s about respect, caring and commitment. Shared goals and compatible priorities. It’s about treating a marriage like a partnership instead of some romantic fantasy. It’s about two people liking each other.”
Liking each other. What this man was suggesting was what she’d had in most every relationship she’d attempted. With one major difference. In those relationships, neither she nor the man she’d been dating believed it was enough. Whereas with Connor... “So, you’re saying it’s about expectations. If we limit them, no one’s disappointed.”
“Embrace them,” he corrected, “because they work for us.”
She nodded, saying the words slowly. “A partnership.”
Of course, this man wouldn’t want anything more from her.
He frowned as he met her eyes. “I’m not talking about some relationship without any caring. I’m talking about improving on friendship. Without turning it into something neither of us is capable of delivering on.”
“If what you’re looking for is a friend, surely, Connor, you must have hundreds to choose from. Women you know better. Trust more. Women who want this.”
Connor stared at her a moment, considering his words before he spoke them. “But I want you. The truth is, there isn’t another woman I know better. At least not as it applies to core beliefs and priorities. You didn’t have some ulterior motive when we met. You didn’t know who I was or what I had or what you thought I wanted. In fact, from the start, the most consistent thing about you has been your unwavering honesty, even when it didn’t suit your needs. I got to know the you who didn’t want a relationship. I like what I’ve learned about you, Megan. The independence. The sharp wit. The easy laugh and intelligent conversation. The authenticity.
“Sure, the historical events that made you the woman you are today are still a mystery, but what you want and who you are and how we get along... Those things I know. I like.”
She swallowed. “Because of last night.”
It didn’t seem enough.
“Last night. This morning. Right this minute. I like what I see.”
“So even if I am the kind of woman you’re looking for...”
“The woman.”
She nodded, feeling more uncertain than she had since waking with no memory. “What makes you the man for me?”
“I can take care of you.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I know,” he said, that wry twist in motion again. “It’s one of the many, many things I appreciate about you. You’re independent and self-sufficient. Your happiness won’t be contingent on the amount of attention I can give you any given week. But as fully capable as you are, my support would allow you to be more than a single parent, with a single income. Married to me, you can be a full-time mother instead of a slave to the workforce. You can work or not work, whatever you choose. I have housekeepers, so any time you want to yourself won’t be spent scrubbing grout. My work requires travel. You and our children would be encouraged to accompany me. You could see the world. Meet new people. There would be little, if anything, tying you down beyond the few expectations I have for my wife.”
The muscles along her shoulders pulled tight. “What expectations?”
“There’s a significant social element in my business, and I want a wife who can help balance the conversation. Playing hostess and accompanying me as needed for whatever comes up. Dinners, parties, charitable events. No more than a couple times a week. Also, our children—as many as you’d like—come first. They need to be your number-one priority. And lastly it means respecting both me and our marriage vows.”
She understood. “Fidelity.”
“Fidelity.”
No surprise Connor wasn’t the kind of man to sit idly while his wife entertained herself with the golf pro from the club, but within the marriage...
Her eyes drifted to where her hand was wrapped halfway around his wrist. She’d been touching him all this time, and yet this was the first moment she’d been aware of the low charge running between them. Meeting his gaze, she could see in those dark pools an answering awareness of that connection.
Her breath caught.
“You won’t be lonely with me, Megan. I know what I’m suggesting doesn’t follow the norm. It’s not the traditional courtship and promise of love. But we aren’t the most traditional people.” Reversing her hold, he took her hand in his. “We have something good. All I’m asking is for you to give it a chance.”
A chance.
She believed it could be good. Which was part of the problem. Because something good would be hard to lose.
And she’d lost so many times already. It was why she’d come up with the plan. No more waiting for the other shoe to drop. Hoping for something that would never come.
Except with Connor, love wasn’t part of the equation. He simply wanted a partner. Someone who understood his priorities the way he understood hers.
He wanted to be another parent for their children.
As many as she wanted.
She’d always dreamed of a houseful of kids. But when she’d decided on the plan, she accepted in all likelihood there would be only the one. And one had been enough.
But what Connor was offering wasn’t about just enough. He was offering her more than she’d believed she could wish for.
Still, the risk remained, reduced as it may be.
What if she got attached—let herself believe in a family—and he changed his mind? Left.
She couldn’t go through it again.
“I need to think,” she said, pushing back from the table and walking to the glass doors where the Vegas sun beat down, brutal and beautiful all at once, over their private oasis.
Moving in behind her, Connor rested his hands over her shoulders, pressing his thumbs into the tender muscles at either side of her spine. A part of her wanted to shrug him off, tell him to give her the space she asked for. But a bigger part recognized the act as an example of the kind of support he was offering. A subtle reminder she would not be alone. There would be someone behind her.
“I get it, Megan. I do. You don’t remember and it’s scary to take my
