Читать книгу His Marriage Pact - Kathie DeNosky - Страница 12
Оглавление“Have you lost your mind?”
“Nope.”
Paris found it difficult to believe a man like Dallas Calloway—a reputed confirmed bachelor—would blurt out a proposal to a woman he’d known less than twenty-four hours. “Let me get this straight. You’d be willing to marry me in order to sleep with me?”
“Yep.”
This simply had to be a joke with an impending punch line. “Shouldn’t we go steady first?”
“I’m serious, Paris, and I’m not asking just so I can get you into my bed.”
From the somber look on his face, she could tell he was dead serious. “If it’s not only the sex, then why would you want to rush into a marriage?”
“Because I need a wife and I need one fairly fast.”
Her head started spinning from confusion. “Could you be any more vague?”
“It’s kind of complicated. But I believe getting married would benefit both of us.”
In what universe? “This doesn’t make any sense to me, Dallas. As I said before, you could probably have any woman you wanted and—”
“I don’t want any other woman. And in all honesty, I’m running out of time to find a bride.”
Paris entertained visions of gloom and doom. “Is there something physically wrong with you?”
“Do you mean a terminal illness?”
“Yes.”
“No, but I am suffering from an incurable codicil.”
“Now I’m really perplexed.”
“Join the club.” He gestured toward the end of the lengthy barn. “Let’s go into the office. You’re going to need to sit down while I explain.”
That sounded like a good plan. Her knees were still weak from their mini make-out session and the bombshell proposal. “Lead the way.”
Paris followed Dallas into the office that was surprisingly simple and blessedly cool. She took a black-and-chrome chair situated in the corner while he leaned back on the industrial metal desk opposite her.
Dallas released a rough sigh as he centered his gaze on her. “Before I launch into this mess, I need to know I can trust you with the information I’m about to disclose.”
She braced for deep secrets, an all too familiar concept. “I promise I won’t say anything. Besides, I really don’t have anyone to tell, at least not around here. And I promise you I have no intention of mentioning any of this conversation to my mother and father.”
“No best friend?”
“Not really. I basically lost touch with my friends from college.” A sad commentary on the state of her life.
“Good, because some of my current predicament involves a scandal.”
Her curiosity was considerably piqued. “Go ahead.”
After looking away a few moments, Dallas finally regarded her again. “A few years ago, during the reading of my dad’s will, we discovered he had another family we didn’t know a damn thing about.”
“You mean Jenny?”
“Yeah, and the twins.”
Both shocking and scandalous. “I didn’t realize your dad and Maria divorced.”
“They didn’t.”
The cogs started spinning in her head as she added outrageous to the adjectives describing the situation. “You mean he was—”
“A bigamist.”
“How did he get away with that?”
“By leaving the state to screw around on Maria. He bought a horse farm in Louisiana when Maria was pregnant with my half brother Houston. He met Jenny in New Orleans, married her and proceeded to get her pregnant not long after my other half brother Tyler was born. For over twenty years he lived the lie and no one was the wiser.”
Paris felt as if she’d been thrust into a spaghetti Western soap opera. “I can’t imagine keeping a secret of that magnitude for weeks, much less decades.”
“J. D. Calloway was a conniving, cheating, lying son of a bitch,” he said, venom in his voice. “Pardon my French.”
She couldn’t believe he would be concerned about cursing in light of what he’d just told her. “No worries. My father speaks the language fluently.”
Her attempt at humor obviously fell flat when Dallas didn’t even crack a smile. “But that part of the sorry story isn’t even the worst of it.”
Paris had a difficult time believing it could get much worse. Then again... “Please don’t tell me he had another wife.”
“Not that we’re aware of, although I wouldn’t put it past him. But he did have it out for me.”
“Why is that?”
“Because he never could control me in life, so he decided to do it in death.”
She definitely didn’t think she’d care for the late Calloway patriarch. “How exactly did he manage that?”
“By using ownership of the ranch. He knew my grandfather insisted the controlling interest of the D Bar C be passed down to his first-born grandson, and my dad was forced to adhere to that request. But then he added a condition that would allow me to continue to run this place only if I did his bidding.”
She was almost afraid to ask. “Such as?”
“I have to get married before my thirty-eighth birthday. If not, controlling interest reverts to my half brother Fort who doesn’t give a tinker’s damn about this place. He’s so ate up with anger he’d like to see all of us fail.”
So now she knew why that milestone held so much importance with the mothers. And she suspected she knew the reason behind the spontaneous proposal. “Am I correct in assuming you want me to prevent that from happening by entering into a bogus marriage?”
He scowled. “When you put it that way, it makes me sound like a jerk. But after I met you yesterday and learned about your current situation, I figured it would benefit us both.”
“How am I going to benefit from a lie?”
“Financially.”
She’d begun to feel a bit like the prostitute Maria had believed her to be. “Marriage for money. Interesting. And out of the question.”
“Will you at least hear me out?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. But first, I have to know one thing.”
“Go ahead.”
“How could you put that much faith in this plan when you know so little about me?”
He paused for a brief moment. “Your parents are Howard and Sheila Reynolds. You were born in San Diego thirty-two years ago on November second. You graduated from a prestigious college, worked for an equally prestigious firm in Nevada and you married Peter L. Smith in Vegas eight years ago. I didn’t find any record of your divorce though.”
She was floored he’d gained so much information in such a short time. “I have the documents although they’re in Spanish, and a photo of the book where the registrar recorded the divorce. And exactly when did you do this background check on me?”
“I couldn’t sleep last night so I did an internet search. This morning I called a friend who’s in security. He took it from there.”
Security meant criminal history. Momentary panic set in. “Did he find anything interesting?”
“Nope. Not one felony or misdemeanor or even a speeding ticket.”
She relaxed for a moment knowing he hadn’t discovered her primary secret, but then no one knew about that. No one ever would, thanks to a nondisclosure order arranged by her attorney. “I’d expect you to thoroughly investigate someone you intend to hire, but not someone you intend to marry.”
“I’m a businessman, Paris, and this is a business proposition. Maybe that sounds kind of crass, but before we go any further, I wouldn’t want you to have expectations of it being anything else.”
For some odd reason that stung like a hornet, as if she was stupid enough to think it might be more. “Really? Again I ask, what’s in it for me? Aside from being wed to the object of many a woman’s lust, of course.”
He didn’t seem affected at all by her sarcasm. “First of all, you have a fairly substantial debt you’re dealing with.”
Had he somehow discovered the money she owed her former firm? Impossible. Or so she hoped. “Did you run a report on my finances?”
“No. I figured that out when you came begging for a job, and confirmed it when you mentioned your ex taking your money and cutting out of the country. I also recall some issue with staying in your apartment and possibly having to move to Idaho. Am I wrong?”
If he only knew the true magnitude of her problems. “No, you’re not wrong.”
“Exactly how much debt are you carrying?”
“That’s really none of your—”
“Business? If you want me to help you, you’ll have to be honest about the money aspects.”
He had a lot of nerve making the request when she hadn’t agreed to anything. “I believe I asked you for a job, not for your help.”
“Yeah, but I’m asking for yours. We could help each other. How much debt?”
She momentarily swallowed her pride. “Over seventy thousand dollars.” Most of which she owed to her former firm.
“Are you a chronic shopper?” he asked.
“No, but my ex is. He left me with all the bills.” Including money he’d stolen that she was having to reimburse.
“Okay. If you agree to this, I’ll make sure you’re debt-free. I’ll give you twenty thousand up front and you can live here rent-free. You can also design the lodge and I’ll pay you monthly for that. If you see that through, I’ll provide a reference and the seed money to start your own company.”
Wow. She would finally be solvent, liberated from her former employer and on her way to a bright future. But at what cost? A nagging voice told her to go for it. Her mother’s voice told her to proceed with caution. “If I did agree to this, and I’m not saying I am, how long would I be expected to remain in this marriage?”
“The will states a year,” he said. “It’s going to take at least that long to get Texas Extreme up and running and the lodge ready for guests. If you’ll stay until then, I’ll throw in another bonus. I’ll buy you a new car so you can put that rusty sedan out to pasture.”
She took offense to him insulting her car. “Bubba is not rusty.”
He chuckled. “You gave that clunker a name?”
“Yes. He’s been very reliable, unlike most men I’ve known.”
“Bubba sounds like he’s barely running.”
“He does need a little work.” Now for a very pertinent question. “There is the very important matter of dissolving the marriage. I’m personally not keen on being labeled a two-time loser with another divorce.”
“We could look into an annulment.”
“Under what grounds after we’ve hung in there for a year?”
He streaked a palm over his shaded jaw. “I’m not sure.”
Neither was she, but she intended to find out. “Mind if I borrow your laptop to do a little research?”
He reached behind him and offered her the computer. “Knock yourself out.”
After setting it on her lap, Paris began the search for annulment criteria. She selected the most official-looking article and began to read. “Let’s see here. The first condition states the parties are family members, but I highly doubt we’re related to each other.”
“Did you not pay attention to me telling you about my father’s philandering ways? I wouldn’t be surprised to discover you’re the sister I’ve always wanted but never had.”
“Very funny and kind of creepy.”
“I’m kidding, Paris. I don’t harbor any brotherly feelings for you whatsoever.”
She looked up to see Dallas’s smile before scanning the text again. “On to the next point. I guess one of us could get drunk during the ceremony and claim we weren’t coherent enough to consent. We could then say we didn’t sober up until after our first anniversary.”
His low laugh gave her pleasant chills. “Sounds like you could handle that with a couple of Jen’s mint juleps, pre-ceremony. I’m sure she’ll keep you supplied for the next twelve months.”
This time she didn’t bother to look up. “Clever, but not anything either of us should consider. Coercion is out because I wouldn’t agree to this unless we’re both sure. Bigamy is also out. And fraud unless one of us is lying about our age.”
“Nope,” he said. “But back to that bigamy thing. Are you sure you’re divorced?”
Realizing she’d inadvertently hit a nerve bringing up bigamy, Paris closed the computer and frowned. “Yes, I’m sure I’m divorced. Peter couldn’t get out of the marriage quick enough. He’s a CPA so he’s fastidious and detail oriented.” As well as a con artist, a fact she chose to withhold. “That leaves us with the final possibility. Do you have issues with impotence that would lead to the old standby, failure to consummate?”
He looked more amused than insulted. “You and I both know the answer to that after what happened a few minutes ago.”
She’d realized very quickly he hadn’t been poking fun. “That’s too bad since it would make the whole failure to consummate much easier, which appears to be our only option. Get married, no whoopee.”
He looked like he’d just bitten into a dill pickle. “You expect me to go without sex for a year?”
Paris thought that would be the greatest challenge of all, and a possible reason for him to rescind the offer. “Cowboy up, cowboy. You can handle it if you want to keep the ranch. Which leads me to another question.”
“Shoot.”
“Does maintaining control of this place mean so much to you that you would enter into a fake marriage that requires celibacy for a year?”
“I don’t like the celibacy clause one damn bit, but I can only promise I’ll try. And it would have to be a real marriage in order to meet the will’s requirements.”
She saw a possible alternative. “Who would know if we only pretended we married?”
“Fort will make a point to check it out.”
The decision would be so much easier for Paris if that weren’t the case. “You’re obviously a rich guy, Dallas. I imagine you could buy a ranch just like this one anywhere in the world. Maybe even a bigger and better ranch. Then you wouldn’t have to resort to this ruse.”
“It wouldn’t be the same,” he said. “To risk sounding like Jenny, the D Bar C is equivalent to losing the plantation that’s been in the family for generations.”
“Wouldn’t it still be in the family if Fort takes over? Have you even bothered to work out some agreement that wouldn’t force you to go to such extremes?”
Anger flashed in his eyes. “Fort doesn’t talk to anyone but Worth. He’d have the power to do anything he pleases, including selling it off piece by piece. I wouldn’t put it past him to do that just for spite. He hates anything associated with the Calloways, including me. Especially me.”
A family feud of grand proportions. “Because I grew up traveling the world, I’ve never experienced having a real home place. But I do understand why it would be difficult to give up a legacy.”
“And even harder to give up the memories.”
“Of your dad?”
“Of my mother. I have very few as it is.”
That revelation yanked hard on her heartstrings. At times her own mother could drive her insane with her penchant for being overprotective, yet Paris couldn’t imagine not having her mom in her life. “How old were you when she passed?”
“Not quite five years old, but I still recall the little things. If I’m forced to leave here, I’m afraid the memories might fade completely.”
Hearing the pain in his voice almost pushed Paris over the marriage edge. But she couldn’t let emotions rule common sense. She’d done that too often as it was. “You’ve given me a lot to consider,” she said as she handed him the laptop.
“Then you’re not completely ruling it out?”
“No, but I have to think about it long and hard. And you’d have to promise we’d find some way to go the annulment route.”
“Believe me, my lawyer will find a loophole if that’s how we want to end the marriage. And I’d be willing to put all the terms in writing if that would make you feel better.”
She’d feel better if she had more time to weigh the verdict. “When do you want my answer?”
“I’m flying to Houston on Friday and I thought we could just do it there. It’ll be easier to blend in at that courthouse rather than do it around here. Word travels fast in small towns.”
“I don’t know if I can make such a serious decision that soon.”
“That’s all the time I have since my birthday’s Saturday,” he said as he pushed off the desk. “When it comes right down to it, it makes sense to get it done the day before.”
If only she could be so sure. “I’m going to go home and think it over,” she told him as she stood. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t get my hopes up. I’ll call you as soon as I’ve made up my mind.”
After leaving him behind in the barn, Paris managed to return to Dallas’s house, gather her things and sneak out without being detected. She drove the ninety miles home in a haze, ticking off a mental list of pros and cons. She entered her barren apartment and thought about how she’d hoped to settle in a loft downtown, with a view of the River Walk. Yet her budget had only allowed her to rent a one-bedroom in a cookie-cutter complex outside the magic of the city.
Her life had turned into an absolute mess, devoid of security and absent of even a shred of a sincere social life. She had a closet full of expensive shoes and nowhere to wear them, a large stack of unpaid bills, including one that if ignored could take away her freedom, and a solid sense of defeat. But she still had an option—accept Dallas’s proposal. What was the worst that could happen? Paris could think of one thing—she might lose her heart to a man who didn’t return the sentiment. Again.
Not this time. Not if she approached the proposal as strictly business. She married for love the first time, why not marry for financial gain the second? A lot of people did it. Unfortunately she’d never imagined herself fitting into that mercenary mold. But she’d never dreamed she would be caught in this dire position.
Damn her bad luck. Damn Peter Smith for his criminal acts and betrayal and leaving her to take the fall. Damn Dallas Calloway for putting her on the verge of accepting his offer.
Knowing she needed advice had her reaching for the cell phone, although she would have to be very, very careful.
On that thought, Paris dropped down onto the sofa and pounded out her parents’ number. After two rings, “Reynolds residence” filtered through the line in Sheila’s usual sing-song voice.
“Hey, Mom. It’s Paris.”
“Well I’ll be, it’s the prodigal daughter checking in and it’s not even a holiday.”
Her mom did have a tendency to make her kids feel guilty at times. “I know, Mother. It’s been a while since I called, but I’ve been rather busy.”
“Do you have a job?”
That depended on whether she took a husband. “Actually, I have a good prospect.” Now for adding that other little tidbit of information. “I also have a new man in my life.”
“Oh, Paris, are you sure that’s a good idea? The ink has barely dried on your divorce decree.”
“It’s been twenty-two months, Mom.” And four days.
“Oh. Time does fly, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it does. Anyway, I think you and Dad would like him.”
“Does he have a job?”
“Yes, he does. He’s a rancher. An honest to goodness cowboy.”
“Interesting. Does he have a nice butt?”
Heavens, leave it to her matriarch to bring that up. “What difference does it make?”
“Believe me, it does. I married your father for his butt and we’re approaching forty years of marital bliss.”
Definitely too much information. “Yes, he has a nice butt and a nice house and a lucrative ranching operation. Are you happy now?”
“I’m happy if you’re happy, dear.”
Now for the moment of truth. A prelude to what possibly could be in the offing. “Good, because the M word has been mentioned.”
“Meatloaf? Manners? Mistake?”
“Very funny, Mom. Marriage.”
“Darn, I’d hoped that wasn’t it.”
“Nothing is set in stone yet, but I didn’t want you to be blindsided if it does happen.”
“I certainly hope we get to meet this one before you take that step.”
Not likely that would occur in two days. “I’m sure you’ll have the opportunity in the near future.”
“Paris, if this man treats you well, then you’ll have our blessing. Just make certain this time you’re doing the right thing.”
An obvious slam on her lack of judgment when it came to her former relationship. “Believe me, I’m going to be very certain before I end up at the altar. A part of me says I should go for it. Another part tells me maybe I’m not cut out for matrimony.”
“I don’t want to ever hear you say that again,” her mother said in a no nonsense tone. “You have the capacity to make a marriage work, as long as you can trust and love your mate for life.”
Therein lay the problem—love didn’t figure into the deal. “How do you ever really know that, Mother? Marriage doesn’t come with guarantees.”
“True, but it does come with certain risks if it’s not right. If you happen to be lucky enough to find your soul mate, then don’t be afraid to take the chance. One bad apple named Peter shouldn’t spoil the whole bunch. By the way, what is this man’s name?”
“Dallas.” And sadly he would never be her soul mate, though he could be her financial savior.
“How nice that he carries the moniker of your father’s favorite football team. That should earn him a few points.”
They shared in a laugh before Paris decided to end the conversation. “Thanks for listening, Mom. I’ll take all your advice to heart.”
“You’re welcome, dear. And don’t forget to follow that heart. If it feels right, do it. It’s high time to leave the past behind and look forward to a brighter future.”
“You know, Mom, you’re right. Love you bunches and tell Dad I love him, too.”
“We love you, dear. And don’t wait so long to call, okay?”
“I won’t.” And that next call could be a bombshell that might blow up in her face.
After Paris hung up, she mulled over her mother’s words and clung to one thing in particular—leaving the past behind and looking forward to a brighter future.
Maybe she should choose a different direction, journey down a new path, even an unorthodox one. Maybe marriage to Dallas Calloway could provide all of that, and more. Maybe his offer would be the best way to start over.
Too much to consider, and far too little time.
* * *
Right then, Dallas only wanted enough time to enjoy his lunch alone. But the two women hovering at the dinette where he now sat had no intention of giving him some peace. Maybe if he ignored them, they’d go away. And pigs would probably sprout wings first.
Jenny propped one hand on her hip and stared at him. “Well?”
He swallowed the last bite of the barbecue sandwich before he responded. “Well what?”
“Where is Paris?”
“She went home.”
Maria flipped her braid over one shoulder and folded her arms. “Are you gonna ask her out again, mijo?”
“Nope.”
Jenny sighed. “Sugar, you really should have given her another chance. A lot of women get drunk on a first date.”
He saw an opportunity to rattle their chains and jumped on it. “I decided I didn’t need to ask her for a second date.”
Jen looked crestfallen. “Why not?”
“Because I asked her to marry me. I figured we’d pretty much moved past the dating game at that point.”
That effectively shut them up for the time being, but he suspected not for long.
“You really did it?” Jenny asked, confirming his suspicions.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Don’t just sit there, mijo,” Maria said. “Give us all the down and dirty details.”
Jenny took on that same old wistful, romantic look. “Did you get down on one knee? Did you give her a ring?”
That beat all he’d ever heard. “No, I didn’t get down on one knee. I approached it as a business proposition, which it is. And when would I have found time to buy a ring?”
“You have your mother’s ring, Dallas. It’s in the safe.”
Maria didn’t have to remind him of that. He’d thought about it often, even though he’d never really looked inside the blue velvet box. Giving it to Paris under the circumstances would be as false as the marriage. Ironically, that trinket had been reserved for true love, according to his dad. “A ring is the least of my concerns.”
Jenny’s face fell like it had weights attached to it. “She said no?”
He pushed back from the table and came to his feet. “She said she’d think about it.”
“Then it’s not a lost cause?” Maria asked.
“Okay, you two, don’t get your hopes up.” Exactly what Paris had said to him before she’d left. “My guess is she’s going to think it over and then refuse the offer.”
“You should have knelt before her,” Jenny said. “Women like that.”
“And given her the damn ring,” Maria added. “I’m not sappy like Blondie here, but I do know most gals like to be treated with dignity when a man pops the question. Even your father knew that.”
“That’s true,” Jenny began. “J.D. could be quite the romantic even if he was a jackass.”
He didn’t want to hear anything else about the aforementioned jackass since he was the reason Dallas found himself in this predicament. “It wasn’t going to matter to Paris if I rode in on a white horse, considering what I’m asking of her.”
“A white horse would have been nice,” Jenny added. “That would be hard to resist.”
He wanted to shake some sense into the woman and dislodge her visions of hearts and flowers. “Again, the ball is now in Paris’s court. If she wants to agree to the marriage terms, then she’ll let me know.”
“Maybe you should go after her,” Maria added. “Give her a little nudge in the right direction.”
He had actually thought about doing that very thing before deciding he didn’t want to pressure her more than he already had. “If she wants to go forward, she’ll come to me. I’m not going to coerce her into a decision.” Although that would be a reason for ending the marriage, provided it actually happened. Nah. His sense of honor wouldn’t allow him to use that tactic.
“I hope she does say yes,” Jenny said. “We could plan a grand wedding on the grounds of the main house. I could make canapés and my famous mint juleps.”
That’s all he needed—a drunk bride. Then again, that would be grounds for the annulment. He really had to get a grip. “If she decides to go through with it, and that’s a big if, there won’t be any wedding. Just a simple courthouse ceremony and no publicity.”
Jenny pretended to pout. “That’s no fun, Dallas. You should have your family present for the nuptials.”
Before she called a caterer, Dallas had to get out of there. “You ladies have a good afternoon talking about me behind my back.”
With that, he left the kitchen and headed to the barn, all the while recalling how he’d watched Paris drive away. Probably for the last time.
In reality, the marriage pact was the craziest thing he’d ever conjured up. He sure as hell couldn’t imagine keeping his hands to himself for a day in her presence, much less a year. If everything fell through, he’d be better off. He’d just turn the place over to Fort and find somewhere else to start up Texas Extreme, even if it wouldn’t be the same.
Accepting the fact that Paris would turn him down flat would be best. He’d bet his last buck that’s exactly what she’d do.