I ignored her last remark. “Who is it now?” First thing in the morning? What exactly couldn’t wait until a decent hour? It was barely past sunrise. And I felt like hell. “I suppose it’s someone else wanting a job? Someone with no limbs perhaps?”
Charlotte only smiled. “I don’t think she wants a job, but I didn’t ask what her business was about. And she has all the appropriate limbs. She’s waiting in your office.”
“She?”
“Yes, a young woman. She said her name is Kira. Very pretty.” Charlotte winked. Okay, well, maybe this wasn’t the worst way to start the day. Unless it was someone I’d slept with…and likely wouldn’t remember.
I downed a couple Tylenol, grabbed a cup of coffee from the kitchen, and walked to the large office at the front of the house that had once belonged to my father.
A young woman in a loose, cream-colored dress, in some sort of silky material, belted at the waist, stood with her back to me, perusing the large bookshelf against the wall opposite the doorway. I cleared my throat and she whirled around, the book in her hands falling to the floor as she brought her hands to her chest. Her eyes widened, and then she stooped to pick up the book, laughing tightly. “Sorry, you startled me.” She stood, moving suddenly toward me. “Sorry, um, sorry. Grayson Hawthorn, right?” She placed the book on the edge of my desk and held her hand out. She was barely average height, slender, with hair a deep, rich auburn pulled back severely into some sort of knot at the nape of her neck.
Not my type, but Charlotte was right: she was pretty. I tended toward tall, elegant blonds. One tall, elegant blond in particular, actually. But I shut that painful thought down immediately. No use going there. It was only when the girl named Kira got close that I really noticed her eyes—large and framed with thick lashes, brows the same rich shade as her hair arching delicately above them. But it was the color of her eyes that stunned me. The greenest I’d ever seen. They were luminous, like twin emeralds. I got the sudden feeling those eyes saw things other eyes didn’t. Bewitching. Magnetic. I felt like I couldn’t take a deep breath.
I stepped back slightly and narrowed my gaze but took her hand in mine. It was warm and small in my own. The warmth seemed to travel up my arm and through my ribcage. I frowned and removed my hand from hers. “And you are?” I hadn’t intended on the hostility in my tone.
“Kira,” she said simply, as if that explained anything at all. Okay. Kira closed those stunning eyes of hers, and I felt a momentary twinge of disappointment. She shook her head slightly before she looked back at me. “I’m sorry, do you mind if we sit down?” What did this girl want? She didn’t look familiar.
I inclined my head toward the chair in front of the massive mahogany desk. I rounded the piece of furniture, set my coffee cup down, and took a seat in the leather chair facing her. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” I asked. “I could call Charlotte.”
“No, thank you.” She shook her head. “She already offered.” A lock slipped out of her pulled-back hair, and she made a small, annoyed frown as she attempted to smooth it back again.
I waited. My head pounded, and I massaged my temple absently. Her gaze followed my hand, and I wanted to squint against it.
She took a deep breath, straightening her spine and then crossing her legs. As her chair was positioned away from my desk, my eyes could easily wander down her shapely calves to her slim ankles that ended in a pair of blue, heeled sandals. The purse, which had been on her shoulder and now rested in her lap, had beads on it in the same shade as her shoes. I didn’t know fashion, but I knew expensive when I saw it. My coldhearted stepmother had been the epitome of coiffed decadence.
“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.