be silly.”
“Right back at you.”
“On the contrary,” he said, “this is the least silly idea I’ve ever had. It makes complete sense.”
“Not to me.” She folded her arms over her chest, drawing his attention there.
The only part of this idea that was silly had to do with his level of attraction. Instead of decreasing with time as he’d thought, the longer she stayed, the more appealing things he noticed about her—the subtle curves of her body that jeans only accentuated. Her high, firm breasts outlined by sweaters, blouses and T-shirts. His escalating curiosity about how her full lips would taste, how they’d feel against his own.
This was not a good time to let all that considerable appeal distract him from negotiating with her.
“Nothing about this makes sense,” she said.
“Can you be more specific?”
“In this day and age men don’t pay women to marry them.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He held up three fingers. “Three words. Anna Nicole Smith.”
“Oh, please. Completely different situation. The man was ninety-something and she was after his money.”
“How do you know he wasn’t looking for someone to nurture his children?”
“If I remember right, his son was in his fifties or sixties. The guy could take care of himself. By any stretch of the imagination she was a gold digger.”
“Maybe he was interested in companionship and was willing to pay for it. Strictly a business deal. Not unlike what I’ve proposed.”
“How do you know I’m not a gold digger?”
The idea that she could be manipulative and calculating made him smile. “The definition of a gold digger is someone who uses her feminine wiles for gifts or monetary gain. You haven’t done that. And I will have my attorney draw up a pre-nuptial agreement to protect me from any possible challenge to my financial assets. It would just be a precaution. Something a smart man does.”
“At this particular moment, I have some serious doubts about your intelligence level. A smart man wouldn’t propose this in the first place.”
“He would to do right by his son. What kind of father would I be if I didn’t secure the best possible future for Brady?”
“You’d sacrifice your own future for his?”
That presupposed he had a romantic future. He didn’t. No woman could get close because he wouldn’t let them. “I’m not sacrificing anything, Maggie.”
“Because you love him.”
It wasn’t a question, and that pleased him. “Yes.”
“A father should love his son enough to do anything for him, but that doesn’t mean you should do anything for him.”
He took a step closer, near enough to reach out and touch her. Something he badly wanted to do again after holding her in his arms. In the mirror behind her he could see her back, the trim, ramrod straight posture. Or it could be tension. This was a big step. It should give him pause, but the more he thought about it, the more right it felt.
“Tell me something,” he said. “Do you need the money? Is there something you could do with it?”
She caught the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth. “Doesn’t everyone need cash?”
He looked at her and smiled. “I don’t.”
“Okay.” She slid her fingers into the pockets of her jeans. “But the average person could use a large sum of money. If not, Las Vegas would just be a tiny town in the desert. It’s built on dreams of winning big.”
“And I’m offering you an opportunity to do that. It’s not a dream and there’s no luck involved. All you have to do is say the word. And you didn’t answer my question. Is there something you could use money for?”
“Yes.” She looked down and her silky hair framed her face, teased her cheeks.
His heart lurched and his hands tingled with the urge to tunnel his fingers in all that shiny hair and cup her face. “Tell me what it is.”
She met his gaze. “The Good Shepherd Home is in a bad way. I told you about the building being in disrepair. Sister Margaret and Sister Mary have done everything, talked to everyone they can think of. So far the money isn’t pouring in. And I don’t think bake sales and car washes will make a dent in what they need.”
“I’ve just offered you the perfect solution.”
The conflict raging within her shadowed her eyes. “It’s not perfect.”
“Nothing ever is. But we both get what we want.” He took her hands. It seemed safe enough until he felt her doubts in the trembling and the softness of her skin. But he hung on and squeezed gently, reassuringly. “You’re afraid of getting emotionally attached, then losing your position as nanny. I need someone I trust with my son. If you marry me, I get what I want and you’ll have a guaranteed place in my household. Another plus is the money to bail out Good Shepherd. Call it a sign-on bonus.”
“If it closes, the kids will lose their home. And each other. Some of them are the only family they’ve got.”
Like her. He’d spent a lot of years resenting the revolving door of women through his father’s life and the fact that his mother walked out when he was barely old enough to remember her. But he never forgot the grief and anguish of wondering what he’d done to drive her away. Still, he’d never had to worry about a roof over his head or where he was going to live. Or who would take care of him because his father had secured the best help money could buy.
“You have the power to make a difference, Maggie. All you have to do is say yes.”
Her gaze jumped to his. “Why marriage, Jason? What if I just agree to stay?”
“I want a guarantee, too. Assurance that you will stay. That no one will hire you away.” And another thought struck him, this one more disturbing. “What if you find Mr. Right? What if some guy swoops in, sweeps you off your feet and marries you himself? I need stability for my son, and marriage does that.”
Jason stared at her hands, still in his. With his thumb, he brushed her left ring finger picturing another man putting an engagement ring there, the symbol of his promise to keep her forever. The idea didn’t set well.
The same instincts that made him a successful businessman should have warned him to go slowly with this proposal. Unfortunately, he didn’t have that luxury. He needed to seal this deal now, while she was off balance. Before she had a chance to sleep on it and say no in the morning. If that happened, she’d walk out on her own terms. And he needed her to stay on his.
“I have to have your answer, Maggie. What’s it going to be? Will you marry me?”
She pulled her hands from his and folded her arms over her chest. “Jason, I just don’t—”
“As soon as you say yes, I’ll write a check to Good Shepherd with a lot of zeros on it.”
“You could stop payment,” she pointed out.
Clearly he wasn’t the only one with trust issues. “If it will make you feel better, I’ll set up an account. You can have an independent attorney look over the paperwork to make sure there’s nothing funny going on. I’ll jump through hoops if you want, but I need an answer now. Yes or no, Maggie?”
“It does feel a lot like God putting me in the right place at the right time,” she hedged.
“I’d call it a sign,” he agreed. “Are you in?”
Her beautiful eyes were full of doubt but she finally said the word he wanted