The Contract (The Contract 1)

“Why are you saying no?”

“Richard, think about it. Think it through. If your instinct is right, and Graham is suspicious and you marry me right now, it will make him more so, not less.”

I stared into her blue eyes, her words sinking into my brain. I stepped back, her hands dropping from my face as I realized she was right.

“Well, fuck.”

“I’m right, you know I am.”

I hated to admit it, but she definitely had a point.

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” she teased.

“Don’t push your luck.”

She grinned, and it occurred to me, she was no longer frightened of me. I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not.

“We are going to readdress this issue, Katharine.”

She pushed off the counter, skirting around me. “Then we’ll talk about it later.” She lifted the magazines, tucking them under her arm. “I have some things to read. I’m going to get some ideas for my room.”

She started to walk away, and I held out my hand to stop her leaving. “While you’re at it, call the building super. Something is wrong with my bedroom door.”

She hesitated, eyes wide. “Oh?”

I reached over for an apple from the fruit bowl, rubbing it absently on my shirt. “I never shut it tight, but it’s wide open when I get up in the morning. I don’t know what’s wrong with it. Get it fixed.”

“Oh, I, ah . . .”

I frowned. She was all red—not just her usual pink-cheeked flush either. Her chest and neck were red and the color on her face was almost purple.

“What?”

“Your door isn’t broken,” she burst out, speaking fast.

“How do you know?”

“Because I open it.”

It was my turn to be shocked. “Why would you do that?”

“It’s, ah, quiet here.”

“I don’t understand.”

She edged closer, her fingers playing with the edge of the magazines. “I couldn’t sleep the first night. Where I lived it was always noisy, from sirens, people, cars or something. In here, it was so silent that it was almost frightening. I was going past your door and I heard you—ah, you were snoring.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I have a deviated septum. I don’t snore—it’s a wheeze.”

“If I push open your door, and leave mine ajar, I can hear you, ah, wheeze, and I know I’m not alone. It’s, well, it’s comforting.”

I had no idea how to respond to her bashful confession. I was comforting?

“Well, then, never mind.”

“I won’t do it again.”

I waved my hand. “Whatever. I don’t mind.”

She turned and left, and I stared after her retreating figure. She hadn’t told me not to kiss her, although she hadn’t addressed the fact I had either. Instead, she confessed to being nervous and unknowingly I had helped her sleep. She also had pointed out the flaw in my idea of marrying her right away. We had each done the other a favor. We were even.

Still, later that night, after shutting off my light, I opened my door, saving her a trip. God knew how grumpy she’d be if she didn’t have any sleep.I went through the paperwork carefully the next day. The offer was good. The package was generous. The one thing nagging me was the five-month probationary period. Three months was the norm, and I couldn’t shake the idea there was more to it in this case. I got up, pacing the floor, and ended up staring out the window at the city below me. I liked it here. I liked the fact it was a busy city, yet easy to leave behind for more open spaces. I liked being able to grab a flight with no trouble, and I liked being close to the water. Why, I had no idea, but I did.

A knock interrupted my thoughts, and I turned my head. Katharine was at the door, a cup of coffee in her hands.

“I thought you’d like this.”

I accepted the mug, taking a sip. “Thank you.”

“Did you go through your offer?”

I sat down, indicating she should also. “Yes.”

“You don’t look happy.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s a generous base, lots of perks, and bonuses based on productivity, the usual benefits—it’s all there.”

“But?”

“The probation period is bothering me.”

“Because it’s longer than usual?”

“I think . . . I’m not sure he is convinced,” I admitted. “He even said so.”

She sighed. “What do you want to do?”

I gave her a pointed look. “Set a date.”

“You’re certain he’s watching you? Do you think he would hire you if he thought you were playing a game? He doesn’t seem that sort of man.”

“I agree, but my gut is telling me I need—we need—to move forward.” I inhaled deeply. “Name your terms, Katharine. My future is entirely in your hands right now.”

She studied me for a moment. I waited to see what she would say. What huge dollar amount and demands she would lay on the table. I could afford it, but I was still curious.