course, the million pounds is a pipe dream.’ She let her hair go and it fell back down around her shoulders in a blonde cloud. ‘But my plan is to get a job in Cornwall and save madly until I can do something with my little property.’
‘What kind of job are you looking for?’ Was she hoping to land another gallery job? He didn’t like her chances.
‘Events management. I know to the outside gaze it’d look like I’m just continuing with my party-girl ways. But running an event is very different from attending as a guest. I used to run all the gallery’s events. And, even if I say it myself, I have a knack for pulling together a halfway decent party, ball, charity luncheon or any other kind of get-together you’d like to name.’
He sat up straighter. She’d be perfect at it. Lord Collingford demanded the best when he entertained. She not only had a name and experience, she had connections. ‘You’ve really thought about this.’
‘Doh!’ But she smiled as she said it to soften the sting.
‘If you were really willing to marry me for a million pounds, Sophie, how would you see that marriage working?’
It was his turn to have the satisfaction of seeing her jaw drop. The waiter chose that moment to clear their plates. ‘Would you like to order dessert or coffee?’
‘Chocolate cake,’ Sophie said, not taking her eyes off Will. ‘Please.’
‘And champagne,’ Will said, holding her gaze. ‘A bottle of your best.’
‘I wasn’t serious when I said I’d marry you for a million pounds,’ she whispered, when the waiter had melted into the background again.
‘I know. You were being flippant. But if we were to speak hypothetically...’ He let the rest of the sentence dangle and watched her mind race behind the perfect blue of her eyes. ‘I’d put a million pounds into your bank account... What would I get in return?’
‘A million pounds...?’
Her eyes glazed over and he could feel his lips start to lift. ‘I believe that was the price you put on it.’ A million pounds...and then she could live the life she’d just outlined to him.
She shook herself. ‘We’re playing hypotheticals?’
He nodded.
‘Well, if that were to ever happen...it’d have to be a strictly business arrangement. A paper marriage—no sex, no children, no complications.’
He nodded. So far so good.
‘You’ve never wanted to marry.’
The ugliness of his parents’ marriage had cured him of ever wanting to trade in his bachelorhood for the vagaries of matrimony. He wasn’t inviting that kind of acrimony and spite into his life. The very thought made him break out into a cold sweat.
‘But you’ll do just about anything to keep Carol Ann healthy and happy,’ she continued.
She knew him better than the women he dated. He should find that reassuring considering the conversation they were having, but he didn’t. It took a force of will not to run a finger around the collar of his shirt.
She smiled at the waiter as he brought their champagne and slid her chocolate cake in front of her. ‘Thank you.’
The waiter’s lips lifted and his eyes lit up. ‘You’re very welcome, madam.’
That was one of the things Will had always liked about Sophie. She didn’t just have impeccable manners, but genuine manners. She made people feel valued.
‘You’d be in London most of the time and I’d be in Cornwall most of the time, so I don’t see any reason why we should even have to live together.’
Better and better.
‘If you needed me to host the odd dinner party or event I could certainly do that.’
He didn’t entertain often but every now and again business demanded it. And he could see how having a ‘wife’ at those events could be an advantage. Sophie had a talent for ruffling the waters when she had a mind to, but she had an even greater ability for smoothing them.
‘Though I’d expect notice. You couldn’t just spring events on me at the last minute.’
That was reasonable. ‘And if you want me to attend anything you need only let my PA know and—?’
She shook her head. ‘In this hypothetical situation you’re giving me a million pounds, Will. Nothing more will be asked of you.’
He frowned. That didn’t seem fair somehow.
She ate a huge piece of chocolate cake and then nodded and pointed her dessert fork at him, her tongue sweeping out to check for crumbs, leaving a shine on her bottom lip that made something inside him clench tight.
No! Don’t do that. Don’t look at Peter’s little sister like she’s a woman, for God’s sake.
‘I know how much you value your...independence.’
Her words hauled him back, and he glanced at her to find her staring at him expectantly. A frown built through him. It wasn’t like her to mince her words. ‘What are you driving at?’
She shrugged, almost reluctantly...and as if in resignation. ‘I know the thought of being monogamous to one woman fills your little bachelor heart with fear and loathing.’
He stiffened. ‘It’s not fear. It’s just... Why the hell would anyone want to do that?’
Her eyebrows lifted. ‘Whatever. What I’m trying to say is that I’m not expecting you to abstain sexually during this hypothetical paper marriage of ours. You could continue to have as many lovers as you wanted. But...’
His heart started to thump. ‘But...?’
‘You might want to consider being discreet.’
Ah. ‘I’d have no intention of making you look like a fool or a stooge, Sophie.’
She dabbed at her lips with a napkin. ‘While that’s a relief, it’s not really what I was getting at. I’m assuming we’d have to put on a convincing show for your grandfather.’
‘Only until we were married. I’d have legally binding contracts drawn up. He could do whatever the hell he wants with his title and money, but the deeds to Ashbarrow Castle would pass to me the moment I married.’
‘Well, in that case, once we’re hypothetically married you can be as indiscreet as you want.’
Would it really not bother her? ‘And you?’
‘You can be assured of my discretion.’
Her answer left him unsatisfied, though he didn’t know why.
‘We would have to agree to a minimum duration for this paper marriage too,’ she added. ‘Eighteen months, perhaps?’
He nodded again.
‘As for how we got married, that’d be entirely up to you—a quickie Vegas wedding, a big London society do, or something in between.’
His lip curled. There’d have to be a wedding. Nothing else would satisfy his grandfather, but he couldn’t face the thought of some big society affair. ‘Could you face a quiet family affair at Ashbarrow?’
She stared at him, and her soft laugh tripped down his backbone. ‘The real question, Will, is can you?’
It didn’t fill him with a shred of enthusiasm, but if it meant securing Carol Ann’s future...
She folded her arms, her eyes narrowing. ‘But I have to ask, hypothetically speaking, of course. If you were to embark on this paper marriage for real, why would you choose me? There has to be someone more suitable.’
Sophie