Can't Buy Me Love Page 2
Paige fingered the cross around her neck and whispered into the air, “Oh, Daddy, what have I gotten myself in to?”
****
“Coffee,” Blake exclaimed. “How can you think about coffee at a time like this?”
“Blake, you need to calm down, then we can discuss this problem rationally.”
“How can we discuss this rationally? There’s nothing rational about it.”
“In all honesty, Blake, I don’t consider the amount you stand to inherit unworthy of a year of your life, clinging new bride and dependent poodle or not. I could go out on the street and find people who would be willing to do much more than get married to inherit 176.5 million dollars.”
“Point three,” he corrected. “176.3 million.”
“Point three? Point five? What’s a couple of measly hundred thousand between friends? You know I’m right. You’ve got to get married.”
“I don’t want to get married. Women are trouble. I learned that lesson the hard way with Cindy Lou Ferril.”
Noah shook his head in apparent disbelief. “Blake, that was the third grade. Since Cindy Lou, you haven’t committed to a female for more than two months. Not all marriages were like your parents’. Mine are still happily married.”
“Then why did you become a divorce attorney?”
“Not all marriages are like my parents.”
Blake growled in frustration and stood to make his point clear. “I. Do. Not. Want. To. Get. Married.”
“Blake, lower your voice. You’re going to scare my secretary.”
He made a face, remembering that Vivian, Noah’s regular secretary, was not at her desk when he had stormed into Noah’s office a little over an hour ago. Instead, another woman had sat in Vivian’s chair, staring gape-mouthed as he strode by her without a greeting or an appointment.
“Where did you find that mouse?”
“I wouldn’t call her a mouse, and you’re changing the subject.”
“Yes,” Blake agreed. “But I’d rather talk about your secretary instead of how my best friend is refusing to help me with my problem. What happened to Vivian?”
“Her grandmother fell and broke her hip. She’s taking a couple of weeks off to go to Indiana and care for her. The agency sent Patty.”
Blake nodded for lack of anything else to do. A thick blanket of quiet fell across the room. He stared at the file that held his aunt’s hateful will as if the force of his stare alone could alter the contents. The silence and the stare lasted several minutes before Blake’s eyes began to water. He lifted his head toward the blurred image of his friend. “I don’t want to get married.”
“You’ve said that. Perhaps we should chant it in unison, hold hands, and dance around in a circle. It may break the spell.”
“Humor does not suit you.”
Noah merely shrugged, unaffected by the barb.
Blake collapsed into the horseshoe-shaped leather chair that sat in front of Noah’s desk. “Who am I going to marry? Where am I going to find a woman to sign a pre-nuptial agreement, marry me, then allow me to divorce her in a year?”
“I told you, Blake. People will do almost anything if enough money is involved. You’re a business man; you should have thought of this yourself.”
“Thought of what?” Blake stood, feeling the tingle of a solution course through him.
Noah stood, as well, seemingly excited by the plan he formulated. Well, at least excited for Noah. “It’s a perfect idea. You make it a business proposition. Pay her. Be up front about the situation from the beginning. At the end of the twelve months, you both walk away richer and neither one hurt from the association. In your case, instead of buying freedom, you can buy the bonds of holy matrimony.”
“You call that perfect?” Blake fell back into his seat yet again. “That’s not perfect. Perfect is finding and marrying someone who loves you for who you are, not what you have. That’s why I’m not married now.”
“Not every woman is like your mother.”
“Well, that’s a comfort.”
Noah shook his head. “If you know from the beginning she’s only interested in money...” He trailed off expressively.
“And just where I am going to purchase a bride? They don’t exactly sell them at Neiman Marcus.”
“Blake.”
“Wait, I have an idea. I could walk down the street and randomly ask women if they’ll marry me. No, even better. I’ll take out an ad in the personals. ‘Wife Wanted. No experience necessary. Contact Blake Caldwell.”
Noah ignored Blake’s sarcasm. “That’s not a good way to keep the marriage a secret.”
“Then there’s only one solution to my problem,” he said sarcastically. “I must ask the very next woman I see to marry me.”
Blake didn’t realize that he had stood again until a timid knock sounded and the door opened behind him. He turned to face the mouse of a secretary the “temp” agency had sent for Noah.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “But you asked for coffee.” Her voice was smooth and clear with no trace of an accent. Blake found—much to his surprise that he had even noticed such a thing—that he liked it.
Noah stood and came around his desk, leaning one hip against it. He folded his arms across his chest as a slow Cheshire-smile spread its way across his face. “Thank you, Patty. Please come in. Let me introduce you to my friend. Blake, this is Patty, my temporary secretary. Patty, Blake Caldwell.”
“Actually it’s Paige,” she said as pink seeped into her cheeks. She set the coffee tray on the desk, and he reached his hand out to take hers.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise,” she murmured.
Blake released her hand and started to return to his seat when Noah cleared his throat.
“Stay for a minute, Patty. I do believe Blake has something he wants to ask you.”
Blake shot Noah a you-will-regret-this-till-your- dying-day look. He turned back to the temp and realized the word “mousy” didn’t fit her at all. He replaced it with “medium.” She was of medium height and medium weight with medium blond hair of medium length. She lifted a hand to smooth back her thick, medium bangs, and he noticed that even her fingernails were medium, clean of any polishes or decoration. Her skin was pure as ivory and devoid of any traces of makeup, and there was a tiny mole at the corner of her left eye.
Blake looked up and met those eyes.
He sucked in an involuntary breath and held it. If she were medium, then there were no true words to describe her eyes. Darkly-browed with thick, sooty lashes, the orbs were blue. No, green. Well, somewhere in between, and he didn’t have his wits about him enough to accurately discern their color as he gazed into their depths.
“Blake. Hello? Blake?”
At the sound of Noah’s voice, he somehow tore his gaze from hers and looked at his friend.
Noah inclined his head once in the secretary’s direction as if encouraging him, urging him toward the only solution he had.
Blake looked back to Paige, careful not to meet her eyes. It was not a good day to drown. “Paige, I...uh, you...uh, I know this is sudden. We just met and all, but...Do you like dogs?”
“Yes,” she answered. Her expression changed from captivated to puzzled. Blake was accustomed to having the first effect on women, but not the second.
“Blake.” Noah spoke, his tone a warning.
He had made a promise to his uncle, and he was honor-bound to keep that promise. Nor was it just his own inheritance at stake, but the jobs of several hundred people and their families, their children. Someone from his own social circle would be hard to control, but Paige would be different. He could marry her and tuck her away in the family mansion until the year passed and no one need ever be the wiser. He could pay her, and she would surely be grateful for the money. It was a perfect idea. Or least the best one he’d had since his aunt died.
He looked back to the secretary. “Will you marry me?”
Chapter Two
>
Paige started to tremble. Surely she had heard him wrong. Men like Blake Caldwell didn’t ask women like Paige Parker to marry them. Impulsive proposals were exclusive to women like her sister Lydia—brilliant, beauty queen types—not plain girls raised in the wilds of Africa. It just didn’t happen.
“Is this some kind of joke?” She looked from Noah to Blake who looked from her to Noah.
Nobody moved for what seemed like hours, or maybe it was only minutes, only seconds. Then Noah interrupted the thick, eerie silence.
“It’s not a joke, Paige. My client has a business proposition to make.” Noah straightened from his lounging position and took her by the arm, settling her into Blake’s vacated seat before he continued.
Watching Noah, Paige understood the lady-killer rumors she had heard about him and why no one wanted to meet him in any court, including tennis. The man was a shark—sleek, elegant, and dark—but a shark nonetheless.
“A business proposition?” she asked as she sank into rich brown leather. It was still warm from the heat of Blake’s body, and the air tantalized her with the spiced scent of after shave. Blake’s after shave.
Noah pressed a tumbler of brandy into her numbed hands. “Blake needs a wife and quickly. Speaking as his counsel, I can assure you this arrangement will be strictly business and strictly legal. If you consent to be his wife, in name only, the terms of the agreement will be signed, witnessed, and notarized. All that would be required of you is for you to live in the Caldwell family home with my client for one year and keep the terms of this union to yourself for the said time and beyond. You are in no danger of being exploited, and you will be paid well for your services. Say, one million dollars?”
Paige wasn’t sure whose gasp was louder, hers or Blake’s.
“One million dollars for twelve months?” he exclaimed, echoing her thoughts. “That’s a better deal than the baseball players got, and she didn’t even strike.”
Noah grabbed Blake by the arm and smiled a little too politely at Paige. “Will you excuse us for a moment?” Without waiting for her answer, he dragged Blake to the far side of his office where Paige couldn’t hear their muted conversation.
She stared down into the brandy, then took a drink. The smooth warmth slid down her throat then burned her stomach, the sensations proving this situation was real. Dreams weren’t this vivid, this tangible. If she were dreaming, Blake’s eyes wouldn’t be so compellingly hazel, so dangerously irresistible. His hair wouldn’t look so shiny and rich, begging a woman to run her fingers through its dark masses.
She looked back to the men. Noah spoke. Blake frowned. Noah spoke again with a stern nod. Blake’s frown deepened as he shook his head. After many more nods and frowns, both men returned to where Paige sat, dumbfounded by the entire situation.
“Now then, where were we?” Noah paused to brush an imaginary speck of lint off the sleeve of his suit coat. “Ah, yes. One million dollars.” He answered his own question as if he had never lost his place in the conversation. Paige suspected he hadn’t. “At the end of the twelve months, you will be paid one million dollars and a quiet divorce will be obtained, handled by myself, of course. You and Mr. Caldwell will part company, and no one need ever know of your bargain.”
She looked from Noah to Blake who still frowned. “It’s a tempting offer,” he groused.
“Yes,” she agreed. It was tempting, but she should decline. But then how many times did a girl like her, average and ordinary, get a chance to marry a man like Blake Caldwell? Not often. One time in a million. It was more than tempting.
And with a million dollars, she could go back to Africa, give the money to the charities that helped the unfortunate and live out her days as she had intended to do before her father died, as a bringer of hope and good fortune.
Noah shot Blake a wilting look, then turned his midnight-blue eyes back to her. “We understand if you need time to think about this, but you must be aware that time is something we have very little of. We will need to know your answer as soon as possible.”
Paige nodded, unable to trust her voice. She should tell him no, right now before this went any further.
“When do you suppose we could have your answer?” Noah asked, but both men waited.
“Two million.” Was that her voice? “Make it two million and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
****
“Maddie! Maddie!” Paige slammed the door of her loft apartment behind her as she called out for her roommate. “Mad-die!”
Madeline Simms came out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a dish towel. “What’s the matter?”
Paige collapsed onto the sofa. “I have had the most incredible day. You are never going to believe what happened to me. I can’t believe it happened to me. I can’t believe I acted like that. I mean, he asked me. He actually asked me, but all I could do was stare.”
“Who asked you?”
“Then Mr. Anderson started talking about contracts and wills and--”
“Slow down, Paige. What are you talking about?” Maddie slipped into the seat next to her.
“I’m talking about Blake Caldwell. And going back to Africa.”
“Blake Caldwell?”
Paige nodded. “And Africa.”
“Who is this Anderson fellow?”
“He’s the attorney I worked for today.”
“I think you’d better start at the beginning.”
Paige nodded and lifted one trembling hand to brush a fallen lock of hair out of her face.
“And from the looks of it,” Maddie continued. “I’d say you need a drink.”
“Yes,” Paige agreed with a smile. “Champagne and let there be lots of it.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of a neat whiskey.”
“You don’t celebrate with whiskey; you celebrate with champagne.”
Maddie stood and started for the kitchen to pour their drinks. “What are we celebrating?” she asked over her shoulder.
“I’m getting married.” Paige was pleased at how calm and matter-of-fact her voice sounded now.
“You’re what?” Maddie was back at her side in a flash. “When? To whom?”
“In order: yes, in three days, and to Blake Caldwell.”
Maddie rolled her eyes and started once again for the kitchen. “I didn’t know today was Tell Your Roommate a Lie Day.”
“I’m not lying.”
Maddie returned to the sofa without the drinks. “Talk.”
“Today I went to work at one of those law offices downtown. The attorney’s name was Anderson.”
“Get to it.”
“Blake Caldwell came in to see Mr. Anderson. He just rushed in without an appointment or anything. After a while, they started shouting. Well, Blake did. I could never imagine Mr. Anderson actually raising his voice.”
“Paige.” Maddie’s voice was low with impatience.
“So Mr. Anderson called for coffee, and when I took the service into the office, he asked me to marry him.”
“Blake Caldwell?”
Paige nodded.
“The Blake Caldwell?”
“Is he famous?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Oh.”
“Paige, honey, you can’t marry him.”
“Of course I can.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“I don’t need to know him to marry him. The Zumbai Tribe arranges most of their marriages, and they work out just fine.”
“I hate to break this to you, but you’re not in Africa anymore.”
Paige sighed wistfully. “Don’t I know it. But after I marry Blake Caldwell, I can go back to Africa. Well, in a year I can.”
“Listen to yourself. You’ve barely been in the States for six months and you already want to go back to Africa? What happened to getting to know your mother and sister?”
Paige shook her head. “I can come back and visit.”
“Like you’ve been doing all of these years?”
Maddie propped her hands on her hips. “This is the first trip you’ve made in over ten years.”
“That’s not true. I came here for Lydia’s graduation and that was—”
“Over ten years ago,” Maddie finished for her.
Paige picked at a snag in the afghan Maddie had thrown over the back of the second hand sofa. “Okay, so I’m not the best at visiting, but this is an opportunity that I can’t afford to miss. Do you know what I can do with two million dollars?”
Maddie’s mouth fell open like the entrance to a gaping cave. “Two million dollars?”
“Minus the money for the plane ticket, of course.”
“Two million dollars?”
Paige nodded.
“He’s giving you two million dollars.” It was almost a statement.
“If I marry him for one year. See, it’s a business deal.”
Maddie shook her head. “I don’t know, Paige.”
“Do know how many vaccines and water purifiers I can get for that kind of money?” She turned back to face her friend, but Maddie wasn’t smiling. “You’re not happy for me.”
Maddie shook her head. “It’s not that. I’m just worried about you.”
“There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Paige, this marriage—business or not—will destroy your mental health. You’ll walk away two million dollars richer and devastatingly heartbroken.”
Paige sniffed at the idea. “I can handle myself just fine.”
“You were raised in a remote African village.”
“So?”
“You’ve never even been on a date.”
“I have too. Remember that time with Billy Sutton.”
“I’m pretty sure going to the movie with your second cousin doesn’t count as a date.”
Paige lifted her chin, hoping that she looked mature and like she knew what she was doing. She didn’t want to admit it, but Maddie was right. She had absolutely no experience with men, a trend that would most likely continue once she returned to Africa. Marrying Blake Caldwell was a once in a lifetime opportunity in more ways than one.