The Contract (The Contract 1)

Her shoulders sagged and she nodded, allowing me to draw her away from the door and over to the sofa. I sat down opposite her and indicated she should, as well. She did warily, and it took all I had not to snap at her and tell her not to look like a frightened rabbit. What did she think I was going to do to her?

Her words echoed in my head. “Isn’t it enough you treat me like shit during the day, now you want to have fun after hours, as well?”

I shifted a little in my chair—I supposed I deserved her wariness.

I cleared my throat. “As I said, I’m planning on leaving Anderson Inc. The company I’m hoping to move on to is vastly different from the way David runs his company. They value their employees—to them family and integrity are paramount.”

Her brow furrowed, but she didn’t say anything.

“In order to even get my foot in the door, I had to convince them I wasn’t the person they think I am.”

“Which is?”

“Arrogant, selfish.” I sucked in a long breath. “A tyrant at work and a playboy after hours.”

She tilted her head; her voice was quiet and firm. “Pardon my bluntness, Mr. VanRyan—you are exactly that.”

“I’m aware.” I stood and paced a little. “I’m also good at my job and tired of being shit on by David.” I sat back down. “I felt something talking to Graham—something I haven’t felt in a long time: excitement at the thought of a new campaign. Inspired.”

She gaped at me. “Graham Gavin? You want to go work for The Gavin Group?”

“Yes.”

“They rarely hire.”

“There is an opening. I want it.”

“I still don’t understand where I come in.”

“Graham Gavin will not hire someone unless he feels they fit in with the image he has: family first.” I leaned forward. “I had to convince him I’m not the playboy he heard about. I told him I’m leaving Anderson Inc. because I fell in love and want a different way of life.”

“With who?”

I reclined against the cushions. “You.”

Her eyes widened to the point of hilarity, her mouth opened and closed, with no sound coming out. Finally she spoke. “Why–why would you do that?”

“It was pointed out to me that you were the exact kind of person to convince Graham Gavin I had changed. When I thought about it, I realized that person was right.”

She shook her head. “You don’t even like me.” She swallowed. “I’m not overly fond of you, either.”

I had to chuckle at her politeness. “We can work around that issue.”

“What are you proposing?”

“Simple. One way or another, I’m out of Anderson Inc. You’ll have to leave, too.”

Immediately, she began shaking her head furiously. “I can’t afford to leave, Mr. VanRyan. So my answer is no.”

I held up my hand. “Hear me out. I will pay you to do this. You will have to give up your job, as well as your apartment and come live here with me. I’ll pay you a salary plus all your expenses for however long this takes.”

“Why would I have to live here?”

“I may have indicated to Graham we live together.”

“You did what?”

“It made sense when he asked. I didn’t plan it—it happened. Now back to my offer.”

“What would you expect me to do?”

I tapped my fingers on the arm of the sofa, contemplating. I should have thought this through more.

“Live here, appear at any function I go to as my fiancée, present yourself as such at all times.” I shrugged. “I haven’t thought it all through yet, Miss Elliott. We’ll have to figure it out. Set some ground rules; get to know each other so we can actually pass as a couple.” I shifted forward, resting my arms on my thighs. “And this has to happen fast. I’m supposed to take you to a function this weekend.”

“This weekend?” she squeaked out.

“Yes. You don’t have to be living here by then, but we need to get our stories straight and at least know the basics. We have to seem close—comfortable with each other.”

“Maybe you should start by not calling me Miss Elliott.”

I laughed dryly. “I suppose it would seem odd . . . Katharine.”

She didn’t say anything, dropping her gaze to her lap, her fingers playing with a loose thread on her shirt.

“I’ll buy you a new wardrobe, and make sure you have spending money. You won’t want for anything if you agree to this arrangement.”

She lifted her chin. I had never noticed the stubborn little cleft in it until now. “What would you pay me?”

“I’ll give you ten thousand dollars a month. If the charade lasts longer than six months, I’ll double it.” I smirked. “If we do have to get married, I’ll pay you a bonus. When we can divorce, I’ll make sure you get a good settlement and handle all the details. You’ll be set for life.”