Читать книгу From Fake To Forever - Kat Cantrell - Страница 9

It was past seven o’clock, but Meredith’s stomach seemed stuck on Central Standard Time and dinner had about the same appeal as a tetanus shot. Nerves. Everything rode on this very quiet, very quick divorce.

Lars, her father’s lawyer, had been so patient when he’d explained that he’d found the marriage record during a thorough investigation of her father’s beneficiaries. If her father hadn’t decided to update his will, she might never have known the marriage to Jason existed and thankfully, it had come out before she approached her father about the loan.

Without a prenuptial agreement, Jason could claim to be a beneficiary to her father’s billions if he chose to fight for them in court. Thank God Lars had been her father’s lawyer since before she was born and was sweet on her. He’d agreed to keep her stupidity a secret until she took care of the divorce and then he’d advised her to come clean to her father or he would be forced to mention it on her behalf.

A legal marriage she didn’t know about smacked of carelessness, and she couldn’t stand the thought of asking her father for a loan in the same breath as admitting a mistake she hadn’t yet fixed. Her sister, Cara, would never do something rash like a quickie Vegas wedding to a man she’d just met, let alone mess up the undoing of it. Meredith wanted to prove she could be as responsible as Cara. Once Meredith had Jason’s signature, she could present the marriage and divorce as a package deal, and hopefully everyone would agree she’d handled it like an adult who deserved a loan and a partnership opportunity in a successful business.

Good thing Meredith wasn’t hungry. If one of the trendy restaurants around her hotel tried to swipe her credit card to pay for the exorbitant menu prices, the plastic would probably catch fire and disintegrate. The credit limit on her Visa was laughable, but she’d qualified for it all by herself. No one could take away the satisfaction of paying her own way—that was what the Grown-Up Pact should have helped her realize, but it had taken a lot longer for the epiphany than she’d expected.

She hadn’t counted on sticking around this expensive Manhattan hotel over the weekend, but she recognized Jason’s wisdom in being available, just in case.

No biggie. She probably didn’t need to eat anyway. Better to get used to lean times now because once she bought into Cara’s business, she’d have a loan to repay on top of a paltry savings account.

Listlessly, she ran through the TV channels a fourth time. When her cell phone beeped, she greedily grabbed it in hopes of taking her mind off Jason.

Except it was a text from the man himself: I’m in the lobby. Text me your room number.

A quick, sharp thrill shot through her midsection. Oh, she didn’t fool herself for a minute. He wasn’t here to take her up on the ill-advised invitation for a drink. The man was engaged and she sincerely hoped he wasn’t the kind of guy who’d fool around on his fiancée. If he was interested in “catching up,” she wasn’t—poaching on men in committed relationships wasn’t her style.

She texted him back and hightailed it to the bathroom to splash on some perfume and freshen her makeup because Chandler-Harris women did not allow anyone to see their cracks.

The knock startled her despite her expecting it. That was fast.

She opened the door and the dark expression on Jason’s face swept out to engulf her and not in a good way. The back of her neck crawled. “What’s wrong?”

“Just let me in. I’m not having this conversation with you while lounging in the hall.”

Silently, she pushed the door wide, forcing him to slide past her to enter the room. It was a deliberate ploy, but his solid body brushed hers deliciously and she wasn’t sorry she’d done it.

Jason filled the hotel room and she couldn’t tear her gaze from him. “I take it you aren’t planning to ask me to dinner. Which would be totally fine, by the way. I haven’t eaten yet.”

“You’ve ruined everything,” he said shortly. “Everything. I’ve worked so blasted hard for two years, and in one afternoon, it’s gone. Poof.”

“What are you talking about? I’m here to fix the problem.”

“I told my fiancée the cute story of a torrid weekend in Vegas and how, get this, it’s so funny, but it turns out I’m still married. She was not amused. In fact, she was so unamused, our engagement is over.”

“Oh, Jason! I’m so sorry.” Meredith’s hand flew to her mouth involuntarily. How terrible. He had to be beside himself. No wonder his mood seemed so black. “I never imagined—”

“So here’s how this is going to go. You cost me a very important contact in the textile industry. You owe me. And you are going to pay, starting right now.”

She took a step backward as his ire rolled over her. “Uh, pay how?”

This was not the man she remembered from Vegas. He looked the same, had the same rocking body and a voice that should be required by law to talk dirty to her twenty-four seven. But this Jason Lynhurst was harder, more brittle. She didn’t like it.

“In as many unpleasant ways as I can devise,” he muttered and swept her with a look. “But not that way. This is strictly business, sweetheart. I need you to do something for me.”

Since he’d just lost his fiancée, and likely was nursing a broken heart, she’d let the condescension slide. “I’m truly sorry that your fiancée is upset. I’m sure you can smooth things over. Do that thing with your mouth, you kno—”

“Meiling is not upset.”

Fire flared from his gaze, giving her a great big clue who the upset party was in this equation. Since he’d interrupted her again, she crossed her arms and perched on the desk so he could burn off that mad.

“If she’s not upset, what is she?”

Jason started pacing, rearranging his spiky hair with absent fingers as he stomped around in her small room, shedding his suit jacket as he went.

“She’s unwilling to associate with someone who would marry a stranger in a crass Vegas wedding and then fail to follow up to ensure the marriage was dissolved. Her exact words.” He tossed his jacket on the bed with a great deal more force than necessary. “I’ve embarrassed her in front of her family, and in her world, that’s unforgivable. So there’s no smoothing it over.”

The light dawned. “You weren’t in love with her.”

Why that made her so happy, she couldn’t pinpoint. But the realization moved through her with a wicked thrill nonetheless.

Jason shot her an annoyed glare. “Of course not. It was a business arrangement, and now I’ve lost the in I had into the Asian textile market. Lyn needed Meiling’s connections. Since this is all your fault, you owe me.”

Okay, this was not what she’d anticipated. Where was the sensitive, passionate man she’d spent many luscious hours with once upon a time? He’d been replaced with a coldhearted suit who possessed not a shred of romance in his soul.

“My fault?” She tightened her crossed arms before she used one to right-hook him to the ground. “Seems like your fiancée—sorry, ex-fiancée—called it exactly right. You didn’t follow up, either. Actually, you should be thanking me that I came to you with the truth before you got married. You’d be guilty of bigamy. Imagine explaining that to your Meiling.”

“I depended on you to destroy the papers.” He made a noise of disgust. “I shouldn’t have, obviously.”

That stung. Mostly because the implication—that she couldn’t be counted on and wasn’t smart enough to handle a simple task—was actually true in this case. “You’re not endearing me to your cause, honey. Doesn’t seem like I owe you anything but an apology. Which I’ve already given.”

“You want to play hardball?” He advanced on her, the look in his eyes enigmatic and edgy. “Fine. I can indulge you. I lost an advantage and you’re going to help me regain it. Granted, you don’t have Meiling’s connections, but I’m sure you’ve got many tricks up your sleeve. Until I get back on track, what’s my hurry to sign the divorce papers?”

He stopped not a foot from her as his meaning sank in. He wasn’t going to give her the divorce unless she did whatever it was that he wanted. Which still hadn’t been clearly established.

Poking a finger in the center of his chest, she held her ground. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me. I’ve got nothing to lose.”

Gazes deadlocked, they stared at each other. No way would she blink first. Or move her index finger from his hard torso.

God in Heaven, that beautiful face of his. She soaked it in and something sharp tore right through her abdomen. Many a morning over the past two years, she’d woken in a cold sweat with no idea what she’d dreamed, but certain Jason Lynhurst had played a starring role in it. That face lingered in her mind’s eye far past the time when she should have forgotten it.

And here he was. Her fingers relaxed and flattened against his chest, easily, as if her palm belonged there. He glanced down and back up, meeting her gaze again with lowered lids. As if the thrumming tension had wound through him with equal fervor.

“If you’ve got nothing to lose, then I’d be more than happy to try you,” she murmured.

She bunched his shirt in her fist and reeled him in. He hesitated for an eternity and then their lips met. The sweet taste of Jason swept through her and it was as if they’d never been apart. She nearly wept as Jason’s arms came around her, drawing her closer.

This was the Jason of Vegas, the one she’d worked so hard to forget and couldn’t.

Oh, yes. Her heart burst into motion, pumping euphoria through her veins as if it hadn’t beaten in two long years. Hungrily, he sucked her deeper into the kiss and sparks danced behind her eyelids.

She pulled back, chest heaving from the effort of not diving into him with abandon. As they stared at each other, locked in a long moment, a glimpse of the man he’d been flitted through his features.

Something pulled at her heart. Oh, that was not good. That was why she’d never forgotten him—he’d taken a piece of her she’d never meant to give.

“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, can we start over?” she asked, her voice more tremulous than she would have liked.

Because she’d just realized letting him go in Vegas might have been the biggest mistake of her life.

In spite of it all, a chuckle spilled from Jason’s mouth and reluctantly, he let his arms drop from the siren he’d somehow wound up kissing. He’d come here to wring her neck, but instead, she’d expertly defused his mood.

But that didn’t mean they’d be falling right back into a crazy-town affair, not when so much was at stake. Not when he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her. “Depends on what the definition of starting over is.”

Meredith pursed her kiss-stung lips, and he decided it was better to put a little more distance between them. She was even more dangerous than he’d realized and he refused to follow in his father’s footsteps. Paul had left Bettina for a younger, sexier wife, with no regard to the consequences to his company or his family. Obviously, it was in the Lynhurst blood to let passion rule, but that didn’t have to be Jason’s fate and someone had to step up where his father had failed.

Jason had a vision for putting the pieces of his life back together and no woman would sway him from realizing it. He was stronger than his father.

While he flopped into one of the overstuffed chairs in the sitting area of her hotel room, she crossed to the minibar and pulled two beers from the fridge, flipped off the caps expertly and handed him one.

“I don’t want to be at odds, Jason. You’re upset. I get that. But don’t come in here slinging ultimatums and expect me to fall in line. Let’s do this differently.”

What the hell. He loosened his tie, guzzled a third of the cold dark beer and raised his eyebrows. “Which is how?”

She took the opposite chair and swung it around to face him, settling into it with her beer. Kicking off her heels, she curled her feet under her and propped her chin on her hand. “Talk to me. Like you used to. Tell me what you want in exchange for the divorce. I might volunteer to give it to you, for old times’ sake.”

Like you used to. As if they had history.

But really, didn’t they? Just because it had only been one weekend didn’t make it any less significant, whether he’d like to go back in time and erase it or not.

“What if what I really want is to stay married?”

It wasn’t, but he was in a reckless mood after all his careful plans had unraveled in the course of an afternoon. One kiss wasn’t enough to get him completely over the destruction this woman had caused. Plus, she’d piqued his curiosity about the divorce. Why was it so important to her? There were a lot of women who might find it convenient to be married to someone from a powerful fashion-industry family. The fact that she didn’t intrigued him.

Of course, Meredith had always been one of a kind.

Her genuine smile hit him in the not-yet-cooled lower half, further proving the point. No woman had ever turned him on with simply a grin. Except his wife, apparently.

“You don’t want to stay married any more than I do,” she said. “The fact that you’re threatening me with it tells me you need something very badly. What?”

His return smile shouldn’t have been so easy, but her mind had always been the most attractive thing about her. He might never have left Vegas with a solid idea of how to heal the fractures in his life without her influence. Why not continue the trend?

“Do you remember why I was in Vegas?”

“I remember everything, including that cute birthmark on your butt. Your parents divorced and split up Lynhurst. You were a wreck over it.” She waggled her brows. “Or you were until I distracted you.”

It had happened two years ago. The memories shouldn’t be so sharp, but they were…for both of them, obviously. “You did take care of me, quite well. And vice versa, if I recall.”

“Oh, yeah. That was never in question.” She shut her eyes for a beat and hummed happily under her breath. “Best nineteen orgasms of my life.”

“You kept track?”

She glanced at him from under lowered lashes, her gaze hot and full of appreciation. “Darling, I didn’t have to keep track. Every one of them is burned into my center. Indelibly.”

He let himself drown in memories of her for a moment. None of the barriers he easily employed with other women seemed to have an effect on her anyway. “Yeah. I can see your point.”

The experience was scored across his soul, as well. Meredith had brought out a wild side he hadn’t even realized existed. Or maybe it only existed because of her, which was all the more reason to stay far away.

“Was there a reason you brought that up?” Meredith asked. “We seem to be stuck on it, when I could have sworn you had something else entirely you wanted to chat about.”

He shook his gaze free from the seductive depths of Meredith’s gaze and cleared his throat.

Obviously, he needed to take a cold shower if he hoped to accomplish anything. Whatever power she held over him couldn’t be allowed to interfere with the endgame. “I spent the last two years executing the plan I came up with in Vegas. It’s simple. Reunite Lyn Couture and Hurst House under the Lynhurst Enterprises umbrella and step into the CEO position. Who better to run it than me, right?”

Slinging a shapely leg over the arm of the chair, she tossed back the last of her beer as her skirt rode up to reveal a healthy slice of gorgeous thigh. “Yep. You’ve got CEO written all over you.”

“Meiling was a part of that plan.” A critical part. She was the kind of wife a CEO needed, not the overblown sex goddess in the opposite chair. But he had to work with what he had. “Now that she’s out of the picture, I have to come up with plan B.”

“That’s where I come in.”

He nodded, relieved for some odd reason that she still read him so well. “I don’t want to use the divorce as leverage.”

“But you will.”

Transparency meant she saw the not-so-nice-guy parts, as well, and that made him a little uncomfortable. He shrugged. “This is my legacy. I cannot fathom veering from the course I’ve laid out and that means I have to improvise if I want to fix the rift in my family’s company. You fill the gap where Meiling’s advantage used to be and I’ll sign the divorce papers.”

Meredith was a loose cannon—prone to dropping projectiles wherever she went. But she had a sharp wit and determination and best of all, she wanted something from him. That was the best combination possible under the circumstances.

“Why don’t you sign them now and I’ll offer to help as a thank-you?” she countered sweetly and that was the opening he’d been waiting for.

He cocked his head. “Why are you so hot for a divorce from a guy you didn’t even know you were married to last week? Am I such a bad catch?”

Her giggle warmed his insides. A lot. Too much.

“I have never thought of you as a fish.”

Which didn’t answer the question at all. He should sign the papers right now and let her go back to Houston. But he couldn’t, and he really didn’t want to examine why it was so important that Meredith help him because he suspected it had too much to do with this nameless draw between them.

And that was a problem. One of many.

But he did need an edge; that much was still true.

If Avery would only drop her bid for CEO, he wouldn’t have to play this game of chicken with Meredith. But Avery would definitely dig in her heels and she was a Lynhurst—that made her a treacherous opponent. He didn’t for a minute underestimate his sister’s vindictiveness or her strategic mind. He’d let her have the CEO position over his dead body. Meredith was his secret advantage and she owed him.

Now he had to figure out how she could help.

“This goes both ways, you know.” He flipped a hand between them. “I’m talking. You have to talk, too. Tell me why this divorce is so important.”

She sighed and her expression blanked. It was wrong on her. Normally, her beautiful face glowed with expressiveness and he was a little sorry he’d brought up the question. But not entirely. She’d been trying to weasel out of spilling this information for too long.

“You have a dream and so do I,” she said and it was clear she was choosing her words carefully. “I’ve been advised that in order to pursue mine, it would be beneficial to have my affairs in order. Correction—affair. I have no interest in being married. To you, or anyone. So sign the papers and everyone wins.”

Now he was thoroughly intrigued, especially because he’d never in a million years label the reuniting of Lynhurst as a dream. It was a fact. “What’s your dream, Meredith? Tell me.”

“Why?” she asked suspiciously. “More leverage?”

Oh, yeah, she was no dummy. And that turned him on as much as everything else in her full package. More maybe. The fact that she was so savvy about his motivation changed it instantly. “No, because I’m curious. My mouth has been between your legs. That gives me special rights to know what’s between your ears, too.”

Her long, slow smile blew the blank expression away. Better. And worse.

“You win. But only because that’s a great point and I happen to like it.” She retrieved another beer and handed him a second, as well, then settled into her chair.

He tapped the longneck. “Trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?”

She snorted. “Honey, I don’t need alcohol for that.”

Unfortunately, she might be right. All the more reason to nail down an agreement about their future interaction—which would be minimal. “So I made a great point. You liked it. Spill your beans.”

“I’m buying into my sister’s wedding-dress business.” And then she clammed up with a show of drinking her beer.

There was more. He could sense it beneath the surface. “Seems like being married might be a bonus for that line of work.”

“It’s not, okay? Not this way.” She shook her head. “I can’t tell my family I did tequila shots in Vegas and wound up married to some guy. They’d never take me seriously again.”

As he thoroughly and uniquely understood the sentiment, he grinned. “You make it sound tawdry. You can’t tell them we fell in love?”

“Please. You can’t even say that with a straight face and neither could I. They’d wonder why we haven’t had any contact in two years, for one thing.”

“Now that you mention it, I’m curious. Did you ever think about looking me up?”

He had briefly entertained the idea of contacting her on the plane home but then dismissed it as he hashed through mental plans about what it would take to get Lynhurst Enterprises back together. Besides, no one could be involved with Meredith long-term; the idea was ludicrous. She wasn’t the kind of woman you settled down with. She was too lush, too distracting, too…everything. She’d compelled him to make stupid decisions without even opening her mouth.

He’d known then she’d spell disaster for his plans. Regrettably, he’d underestimated how catastrophic she’d ultimately be.

“Not once.” Casually, she lifted the beer to her lips. Too casually, and he saw the guilt in the depths of her eyes. But why she’d lie was a mystery. “We agreed to part ways in Vegas. The Grown-Up Pact wasn’t about actually staying married, right? It was about proving we could take grown-up steps. If we could do it together, we could do it apart. So why stonewall me on this divorce? Makes no sense.”

“Does, too. Getting married had value. Staying married has advantages, too.”

“For you. Though I have yet to hear how.”

The time had come to lay it all on the line. “In order to reunite Lynhurst Enterprises, I have to take a strategic plan to the executive committees of Lyn Couture and Hurst House Fashion. My former fiancée’s father owns the largest textile company in Asia and our marriage would have solidified a partnership with Lyn Couture, thus lowering production costs dramatically. Hurst House would want to benefit from this association and from my leadership.”

Meredith could never fill that gap, but there had to be some way to spin this situation to his advantage.

“My sister, Avery,” he continued, “was the second half of the plan. She runs the branding and marketing for Hurst House and we planned for her to quit Hurst House to come work for Lyn. Without her, the company would flounder, thus forcing my father, the current CEO of Hurst, to consider merging.”

There was more, much more, but he kept those cards close to the vest. She didn’t need to know his entire strategy.

“That’s quite brilliant.” Genuine appreciation shone from Meredith’s gaze. “Sorry a weekend in Vegas a million years ago messed it all up.”

The weekend in Vegas had helped him conceive this plan. Without it, he might never have come up with it. Ironic that the same weekend had come back to bite him.

“There’s more. Avery’s not on board with the plan anymore. She wants the CEO spot and I wouldn’t put it past her to cook up her own scheme.” Instantly, he knew how Meredith could provide that missing advantage. “I need someone she doesn’t know to be my spy at Hurst House. Someone firmly on my side who can tell me what she’s up to.”

Meredith lit up but then quickly tamped back her excitement. “You want me to be a spy in a New York fashion house? In exchange for a divorce? That doesn’t seem like a fair trade.”

“Really?” Nonchalantly, he swallowed the last of his beer. “What would?”

A crafty glint in her eye raised the hair on the back of his neck.

“You have to put me on the payroll.”

That’s what she wanted? He’d expected her to ask for full marriage benefits, which would have been very difficult to refuse. Though he would have refused, for the sake of Lynhurst. He couldn’t afford to let a woman cloud his vision. “Sure. I have no problem compensating you, though you’d have to be on the payroll at Hurst so no one suspects anything. What else?”

“The marriage stays a secret, now and after the divorce is final. I can’t let it become known or my wedding-dress dream is over.”

“That’s easy. I don’t care for anyone to know about it, either.”

If Avery got ahold of that bit of information, she’d use it to her advantage somehow. The last thing Jason needed was to give someone leverage—someone other than him, that was.

She eyed him. “That’s not what it sounded like a minute ago. You were all set to blab to your family about how we were in love.”

“I was kidding. Love might make the world go round, but it tears businesses apart.” Like his parents’ failed marriage had done to Lynhurst Enterprises. He’d never repeat his father’s mistakes. “The only reason to marry someone is if it gets you closer to where you want to be.”

“I see. Marriage is your weapon. How romantic.” She rolled her eyes. “Lucky me.”

“Marriage is a tool,” he corrected. “Romance is for losers who can’t figure out how to get a woman into bed. I suffer from no such limitations.”

“You might be surprised at what I consider romantic.” She swept him with a heated once-over that slammed through him with knock-down, drag-out force.

“You’re not going to be my wife in anything other than the legal sense. This is a strictly platonic deal, Meredith. I’m serious.”

Her laugh rolled through him. “We’ll see about that. It’s not like you’re suffering from a broken heart.”

He had the distinct feeling he’d inadvertently challenged her to turn him into a liar. “So that means we’re agreed?”

“I’ll help you in exchange for the divorce, but only for a few weeks. I want twenty grand, not some measly minimum-wage salary. And you have to foot the bill for my hotel room.”

He stuck out his hand and Meredith shook it. “Welcome to Lynhurst.”

“Happy to be on board.” She pulled him closer, skewering him with a sultry gaze. “What does a girl have to do to get the COO to take her to dinner?”