His Thirty-Day Fiancée. Catherine Mann
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but that made her sound money-grubbing. How come men struck hard bargains and they were corporate wizards, but the same standards didn’t apply to women? She had a career to look after and responsibilities to her sister.
Duarte’s eyes brimmed with cynicism. “So we’re going to barter here? Quite bold on your part.”
“Arrest me, then. I’ll text a story from my jail cell. I’ll describe the inside of your personal suite along with details about your aftershave and that birthmark right above your belly button. People can draw their own conclusions and believe me, the click-throughs will be plentiful.”
“You’re willing to insinuate we had an affair? You’re prepared to compromise your journalistic integrity?”
For her sister? She didn’t have any choice. “I work for the Global Intruder. Obviously journalistic integrity isn’t a high priority.”
A glint of respect flecked his eyes. “You drive a hard bargain. Good for you.” He straightened, topping her by at least half a foot. “Let’s get down to business, then. There’s going to be a family wedding at the end of the month at my father’s estate. If you hold up your end of the bargain for the next thirty days, you get exclusive photos of the private ceremony. The payoff from those photos should be more than adequate to meet your needs.”
A Medina wedding? Wow. Just. Wow.
Before she could push a resounding yes past her lips, he continued, “And in a show of good faith, you can submit a short personal interview about our engagement.”
“All I have to do is pretend to be your fiancée?” It sounded too good to be true. Could this Hail Mary pass for Jennifer work out just right?
“Of course it’s pretend. I most certainly do not want you to be my real fiancée.”
“You’re serious here. You’re actually going to take me with you to your father’s estate?” And give her photos of a family wedding.
“Ah, I can see the dollar signs in your lovely eyes.”
“Sure I want a story and I have bills to pay like anybody else—well, anybody other than Medinas—but I work for that payday.” Hey wait, he thought her eyes were lovely? “What reporter in their right mind would say no to this? But what’s the catch? Because I can’t imagine anyone would willingly invite a reporter into the intimate circle of their lives. Especially someone with as many secrets as you.”
“Let’s call it a preemptive strike. Better to know the snake’s identity rather than wonder. And I also gain four weeks of your charming presence.”
Suddenly an ugly suspicion bloomed in her mind. “I’m not going to sleep with you to land this exclusive.”
Her eyes darted back to the bed, an image blossoming in her brain of the two of them tangled together in the sheets, their discarded clothes mating on the floor in a silky blend of green and black.
A humorless chuckle rumbled in his chest. “You really are obsessed with having sex with me. First, you believe I’ve mistaken you for a prostitute. Then, you think I want to trade my story for time in your bed. Truly, I’m not that hard up.”
She blinked away the dizzying fantasy he’d painted of the two of them together. “This just seems so… bizarre.”
“My life is far from normal.” The luxury that wrapped so effortlessly around him confirmed that.
“I should simply accept what you’re offering at face value?”
“It’s a month of your life to make appearances with a prince while I settle Dad’s estate. Our family is rather well connected. You’ll have some very influential new contacts for future stories.”
Now, didn’t he know how to tempt a girl? On too many levels. “If we’re not sleeping together, what do you get out of this?”
He held up one finger, tapping it on her shoulder. “I give my father peace.” He added a second touch, thumbing her collarbone. “I retain control of my own personal life. And three—” he curled his whole hand around her in a hold that was both arousing and a little dangerous “—I manage all cameras, all the time. You don’t have access to any shots unless I okay them. The press hears nothing without my approval. And before you get too excited, when we go to my father’s, you will not know where he lives.”
She laughed in hopes of dispersing the tingles tightening her breasts. “Do you intend to put a bag over my head before you stuff me in a limo?”
“Nothing so plebian, my dear.” His thumb continued to work its magic. “Suffice it to say, you will get on an airplane and then land on a private island, somewhere warmer than here in Massachusetts. Beyond that…” He shrugged, sliding past her, a hint of cedar drifting along with him.
Pivoting, she watched him stride across the room, his steps silent, his hips trim and decidedly hot. “You’re taking me to an untraceable island so you can kill me and dump my body in the ocean for exposing your family—which, for the record, is just my job. Nothing personal.”
Shaking his head, he stopped in front of a painting of a wooden sailboat beached on its side. “Pull a bag over your head? Feed you to the sharks? You are a bloodthirsty one.” Pulling back the gold-framed artwork, he revealed a wall safe. Duarte punched in numbers and the door hissed open. “Nobody is going to kill anyone. We’re going to let the world know we’re engaged right away. Then if you disappear, all fingers will point to me.”
“If they can find you on that ‘warm island.’”
“Thanks to you, I’m sure my father’s secluded hide-away will be found sooner or later.” He pulled out one flat velvet box after another, each with an exclusive jeweler’s name imprinted on the top. “One last point. If you break any of my rules about distribution of information, I will turn over the security footage of you breaking into my estate and press charges for unlawful entry. It won’t matter that you’ve been my fiancée. The world will believe the tape was taken after our breakup and that you were a scorned woman bent on revenge.”
The unrelenting line of his back, strong column of his neck exposed by closely shorn hair spoke of cool determination. She wasn’t dealing with a rookie. “You would really send me to jail?”
“Only if you betray me. If you didn’t want to play in the big leagues, then you shouldn’t have climbed onto my balcony. You can always just walk away free and clear now.” He plucked the smallest jewelry box from the back and creaked it open to reveal an emerald-cut ruby flanked with diamond baguettes. “Negotiations are over. Take it or leave it. That’s my deal.”
She eyed the platinum-set engagement ring, jewels clearly perfect yet curiously understated. No gaudy Hollywood flash, but rather old-money class that appealed to her more than some princess-cut satellite dish in a six-pronged setting. For Jennifer’s sake, she would make this work. She had to. She would regret it for the rest of her life if she didn’t take this risk, a chance to provide for her sister forever.
Decision made, Kate extended her hand. “Why on earth would I betray you when we’ve obviously come to a mutually beneficial agreement?”
Duarte hardened his focus as he did in the workout room and plucked the ring out of the cushiony bed. Best not to think about any other kind of bed.
Cradling her left hand in his, he slid the ring in place, a ruby-and-diamond antique from the Medina family collection. He could buy her something more contemporary and ornate later, but now that he had Kate’s agreement, he wasn’t going to give her time to wriggle out. He had a month to exact revenge on her. And no, he wasn’t going to dump her in the ocean or cause her any bodily harm.
Instead, he would seduce her completely, thoroughly and satisfyingly. He wanted this woman and would have pursued her regardless of how they’d crossed paths. But they hadn’t met under normal circumstances. He couldn’t forget what she’d done to his family. The best way to discredit any future reports from her would come from casting