Grayson's Vow (7)

“I don’t mean to rush you, but I have a lot to get done today.”

Her eyes widened. “Right. Of course. I’m sorry to hesitate. Well, I guess I’ll just get right to it. I have a business arrangement to offer you.”

I lifted one brow. “A business arrangement?”

She nodded, twisted the long, gold necklace she was wearing. “Yes, well, in actuality, Mr. Hawthorn, I’m here to propose marriage.”

I laughed, almost spewing the sip of coffee I’d just taken all over my desk. “Excuse me?”

Those magnificent eyes lit with something I couldn’t define. “If you’ll just hear me out, I think perhaps this is something that could benefit both of us.”

“And how exactly do you know anything about what might benefit me, Ms.…what is your last name? You didn’t say.”

She raised her little chin. “Dallaire. My last name is Dallaire.” She eyed me with some sort of expectation.

“Dallaire?” I paused, frowning. I knew that name. “As in the ex-mayor of San Francisco Dallaire?”

“Yes.” She raised her chin higher. Ah, haughty, that’s what that gesture was. She was political royalty. An heiress. I didn’t know a whole lot about Frank Dallaire, except that he’d been the mayor for two terms and was extraordinarily wealthy—a result of not only his political career, but I thought…real estate dealings? Something along those lines. He was consistently on the list of the country’s wealthiest men. So why in the hell was his daughter here making a ridiculous offer?

“So I guess a better question, Ms. Dallaire, is how on God’s green earth would a marriage to me benefit you?” This ought to be good. I reclined back in my chair.

She sighed, looking only slightly less haughty. “I’m in a bit of a situation, Mr. Hawthorn. My father and I are”—she chewed on her lip for a second, seeming to be searching for the right word—“estranged. To put it bluntly, I need money to live, to survive.”

I studied her for a second and then chuckled softly. “I can assure you, Ms. Dallaire, marriage to me would not benefit your financial portfolio. Very much the opposite actually. Someone’s misinformed you.”

She shook her head, leaning forward. “Which leads me to the part that would benefit both of us.”

“By all means, please educate me,” I said, not trying to hide the boredom in my voice. I massaged my temple again. I hardly had time for this.

“Well, it’s come to my attention that your vineyard is, uh, well, it’s failing, to be honest. You need cash.”

Anger swept through me at the way this little rich girl summed up my situation. I jerked my hand from my temple and gave her my chilliest look. “And you know this…how?”

She raised her chin again. “I researched you.”

“Ah.”

“And, well, I was at the bank yesterday. I accidentally overheard part of your meeting. You were turned down for a loan.”

I froze as a slow stain of color rose in her cheeks. Well, at least she had the grace to be embarrassed. “Accidentally” overheard, my ass. But then that little chin went up again.

Anger—and a small measure of shame about what she’d heard—speared down my spine, causing me to sit up straight. “You rudely eavesdropped on my appointment at the bank, googled me, and now you think you understand my situation?” What the fuck?

Her expression gentled and her pink tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip. My body reacted to that small movement, and I tamped it down with violence. I was not attracted to the arrogant, little rich girl playing games with me. Plus, I’d had a woman last night as a matter of fact—a blond named Jade who smelled like watermelon…or had it been pineapple? She’d been highly energetic. And yet, even so, the whole escapade had left me vaguely dissatisfied…and reeking of fruit salad. I focused my attention back on the redhead sitting in front of me. Or was she a brunette? Almost the perfect mixture of both… As if her hair was responding to my thoughts, another lock slipped out of her updo. Kira tucked it behind her ear.

“I’m sure I don’t know all the particulars of your situation. But I know that you need cash, and you have few options left, especially considering your…record.” That blush rose in her cheeks again before she continued, “I need cash as well. I’m desperate too, actually.”

I let out a sigh. “I’m sure if you went to Daddy, all this could be resolved. Things are rarely as desperate as they seem.” Except in my situation they actually were.

Her eyes spit fire at me, but her expression remained neutral. “No,” she said. “Things will not be resolved with my daddy. We had a falling out over a year ago.”

“Uh-huh. And how have you been getting by since then?”

She paused as if she was considering her answer. “I’ve been overseas.”

Shopping, most likely. Or sunning herself. I ran my eyes down her legs again—lightly tanned legs. And now her personal funds had run out and Daddy wasn’t going to supply her with more. How tragic.

“Do you have something against getting a job? Do you have an education?”

“My college career was…cut short. And no, of course I’m not against getting a job if need be. But”—she sat up even straighter—“suffice it to say, I came here today believing this was the better course of action for all involved.”