“Thanks.” He glanced in the rearview mirror and double-checked the side mirrors before changing lanes. Will Rowling might very well be the most careful driver she’d ever met. “Look, let’s just get all of it out on the table, shall we?”
“Depends on what you mean by all and table,” she countered, a little puzzled by his abrupt change of subject.
Was this the part of the date where he expected her to air all her dirty laundry? She’d never had a long-term relationship, never wanted one, never thought about what went into establishing a foundation for one. Maybe they were supposed to spill deep, dark secrets right off the bat. She was so not on board with that.
“About the arranged marriage,” he clarified. “We should clear the air.”
“I’m not a lesbian looking for a fake husband and I don’t have a crazy uncle chained up in the closet, if that’s what you’re fishing for.”
He flashed a brief smile, the most genuine one yet, giving her a glimpse of what he might be like if he loosened up a little. “I wasn’t fishing. I meant, I wanted to tell you that marriage wasn’t my idea. I’m not after your title or your fortune.”
“Oh. Then what are you after?”
The smile vanished as his expression smoothed out into the careful nothingness he’d worn since the first moment. “Aligning myself with the Montoros through marriage is advantageous for Rowling Energy. It would be fitting if we suited each other. That’s the only reason I agreed to meet you.”
Ouch. That was kind of painful. Was she actually disappointed his motives for this pseudo-date nearly matched hers word for word? Well, not really, but no woman liked to find out a man was only interested in her connections. At least he’d admitted it up front.
All on the table, indeed.
“Yeah. I get that. My father pretty much insisted that I get on a plane and fall in love. Not necessarily in that order.” Her lips twisted into a grimace automatically. “Since we’re on the subject, would you really go through with it?”
“Marriage, you mean?” A shadow darkened his gaze though his eyes never left the road. “Rowling Energy is on the brink of gaining a starring role on the world’s oil stage. Our alliance makes very good sense. My assumption is that you thought so as well.”
“Wow.” Bella blinked. Had he memorized that careful statement in one sitting or had he repeated it to himself in the shower for the past week so he could get it out without stumbling? “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
If she’d ever had any shred of doubt about her ability to tolerate an arranged marriage, it had just been crushed under the heel of Will’s ambition. There was no way she’d marry anyone unless the words deliriously happy, scorching passion and eternal love entered into the conversation about a hundred times first, and even then, vows would be far, far in the future.
His eyebrows rose slightly. “Meaning?”
She rolled her eyes. “I just hadn’t pegged you for a romantic. That’s all.”
“It wasn’t intended to be romantic,” he explained, and she had the distinct impression he really thought she’d needed the clarification.
As nightmare dates went, this one hit the scale at about eleven point five. So much for being herself. Check, please.
“Will, I have a confession to make. Instead of seeing the sights, I’d really like a ride to Del Sol to visit my great-aunt Isabella.” She blazed ahead before he could say no. “She’s very sick and I’d like to see her. The timing is terrible, I realize, but my mind is just not where it should be for this outing.”
Hitching a ride hadn’t been her intent when she’d called him, but a savvy woman knew when to cut her losses and she might offend Will if she screamed bloody murder in his ear...which she might very well do if forced to spend five more minutes in his company.
This was not going to work out. Period. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck in a horrible marriage to a coldhearted man, as her mother had been. If it didn’t make you happy, why do it? Why do anything that didn’t have fun written all over it?
“No problem.” Will checked forty-seven points of the car’s position and did a U-turn to head to the interior of the island. “I sensed that you were distracted. Glad to know the reason why.”
Yet another reason they would never work—obviously Will read her about as well as she could read Spanish. She’d been the opposite of distracted, but only because she’d been hoping for a scrap of information about James, God knew why.
“Yeah, I’m a mess. My aunt has Parkinson’s and her prognosis is...not good.” Bella left it at that and choked back the wave of emotion for a situation she couldn’t change and hated with all her heart.