He wondered if he detected a hint of a sneer in the word conditions, as if she thought he was so powerless he couldn’t afford to have any. He was going to have to show her otherwise. “Second,” he said with authority, “is that the money is to be paid to my stepmother.”
The surprise on her face was clear. Did she expect him to leap at the money for himself?
He continued, “However, she must never know where this money has come from, and certainly not be able to connect it back to me.”
“How do you expect me to do that?”
“How the hell would I know?” He took another sip of his drink and popped a ridiculously tiny empanada into his mouth. “But if you have the means to hack a database, I’m sure you have the manpower and creativity to gift someone a million dollars in a way that won’t make them suspicious.”
She nodded slowly. “Fine. I can make that happen.”
“And, my family cannot know about this marriage. I love them too much to entangle them in this messy heap of lies, and I certainly am not about to explain myself.”
“No problem. It’s not like I’m planning to leak the news to the society pages.”
He cracked a smile. “Are you often in the society pages, Chantelle?”
“Often enough for them to know that the scandal of a lightning-fast marriage would sell a few copies. Or rather, in this day and age, be worth a few click-throughs.”
The idea of living in a fishbowl like that made him shudder. Having no money was limiting but having lots of it must have some drawbacks.
“Are you done?” she asked.
“Can I request my favorite song for the married couple’s first dance?”
Surprisingly, she actually smiled. “The pomp of a fancy wedding will have to wait for my next marriage. This will be strictly a sign-on-the-dotted-line affair. Let me make this clear, we will be married, but you won’t be my husband.”
“So, no little bottles of bubble soap?”
“And no champagne.” The smile rose to her eyes, softening her face for the first time since he’d met her. He almost liked her like that.
“Awww.”
Then she grew serious again. “I agree to your conditions, and put forth some of my own.”
“Sure thing, boss.” He was kidding, but it did feel in some way as if he was selling himself, or at least temporarily hiring himself out to a ridiculously high bidder.
“Don’t try to be funny. This is a business arrangement. I am not your employer.” She began counting on her fingers. “Condition number one. You must sign a prenup. It will explicitly state that you are to inherit nothing upon the dissolution of our marriage or my death in either the United States courts, or those of France—”
Ah, so that was the source of the accent. “You’re French?”
“On my mother’s side, yes. My mom was born in Haiti, but moved to France when she married my father. I was born in France and lived there until I was twelve.”
“Okay. I figured you might be Canadian or something.” He grinned wickedly, guessing that if there was one way to annoy a French person, it was to suggest they might be from Canada. The flicker of irritation on her face told him he was right.
She responded with dignity and pride. “My family is from Provence, in the south. Near the Mediterranean coast.”
“Sounds beautiful.”
“It is,” was her wistful response. Then she seemed to give herself a mental shaking. “As I was saying, I need it to be clearly understood that the million dollars we have agreed upon will be the only monetary benefit for you from this arrangement.”
He said, a little too sharply. “I may be many things, but greedy isn’t one of them.”
She went on unperturbed. “Second, you will have no rights over the baby when he or she is born. Your only connection to my child is DNA. You are not thedaddy;you are and will continue to be thedonor.Do you understand me?”
“Loud and clear.” Yet he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He’d grown up believing in family, and that family did for each other whatever was necessary… after all, his sister Arabella was the only reason he was here. But while he had neverdreamedof fatherhood, he’d always imagined that it would be in his future. The idea that his progeny would soon be brought into this world and have nothing to do with him, ever, was unsettling.
“Third,” she began.