‘Obviously...’ Milly repeated faintly, still looking stunned.
‘And time is rather of the essence, although we can discuss the particulars—assuming you are agr
eeable.’
‘Agreeable—’ The word came out in a squeak. He’d shocked her, clearly, and she hadn’t even seen his face yet. The thought almost made Alex laugh, except he hadn’t actually found anything funny in months. Twenty-two months, to be precise. ‘Kyrie Santos,’ she said firmly, once she’d recovered her composure. ‘I am not agreeable.’
‘You haven’t even heard the terms.’
‘I don’t need to hear the terms. I’m not in the habit of selling myself.’
‘We’d be married,’ Alex pointed out reasonably. ‘It would hardly be classified as that.’
‘It would be to me.’ She shook her head, a shudder running through her whole body, a visceral reaction of something close to disgust, which caught him on the raw. She hadn’t even seen him yet. ‘I’m sorry, but no. Never.’ She spoke with such vehemence that he was intrigued as well as irritated. It was exceedingly inconvenient for her to refuse.
‘You almost sound as if you’ve had such an offer before,’ he remarked. ‘The way you’re reacting, as if you’re remembering something offensive. As if my proposition recalls another.’
‘Of course it doesn’t!’
‘Of course?’ he queried, arching an eyebrow, the one she could see.
‘Most men are not in the habit of making such propositions,’ Milly said in that same chilly voice of maidenly affront. She donned that voice like a dress—something that could be taken off as needed, a bit of flimsy armour. It made him wonder what she was protecting underneath.
‘Aren’t they?’ he queried. ‘Most marriages are business deals of some kind, Miss James. A negotiation of sorts, no matter what emotional underpinnings they possess.’
‘And yet our marriage would have no emotional underpinning,’ she returned. ‘I don’t even know you. I’ve never met you before today.’
‘That is not out of the ordinary, for situations such as this.’
‘What makes you think I want to get married?’
‘Nothing. Like I said, this would be a business arrangement. And the financial stability is what I think you will find attractive about this proposition.’ He let out a huff of laughter. ‘Nothing else.’
She stayed silent, and Alex turned slightly, wanting to see her face, able to make it out in the dim room only a little. Her eyes were wide, her lips pressed together.
She looked uneasy, but she also looked...torn. Her hand had slipped from the doorknob, and now her fingers were knotted together. As he gazed at her, she nibbled her lip, her eyes darting this way and that. She looked, he realised, as if part of her was tempted or at least intrigued by his offer, but she didn’t want to admit it.
‘Financial stability,’ she finally said. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I would make marriage worth your while.’ He waited, to see if she asked more, but she shook her head.
‘Now that sounds like selling myself, and to a stranger. I think any marriage should have some kind of emotional foundation, if not love.’
He cocked his head. ‘You almost sound cynical.’
‘Cynical—?’
‘As if you don’t really believe what you’re saying,’ he clarified. ‘You want to, but you don’t.’
‘What I believe or don’t believe is of no concern to you, and of no relevance to this conversation,’ she returned sharply. ‘The answer is still no.’
‘Why?’ Alex asked, letting his voice loosen into a lazy drawl. ‘Out of interest?’
‘Why?’ She looked and sounded incredulous, but also up against a wall. Figuratively as well as literally, her back pressed to the door, her chest heaving so he could see the rise and fall of her small breasts. A few wisps of light brown hair had escaped from her normally neat ponytail, framing her heart-shaped face. She was, he decided with some surprise, quite lovely. When he’d made the decision to marry her, her looks had not been part of the equation. She was convenient, suitable, and her lowly position meant he would be able to manage her. That was all he required.
‘Yes, why?’ he reiterated. ‘Why are you not willing even to consider my offer? Not even a single question as to the nature of our arrangement?’
‘You’ve already made the nature quite clear—’