An Offer He Can't Refuse (4 page)

“Is that so?”

Madison was pretty sure she saw him flinch. “I didn’t tell him anything about the ‘situation’ if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not worried,” he said. “But thanks for your concern.”

Liar. His whole body was tense.

“What was the man’s name?” Jackson asked.

He didn’t know his boss’s name
? “Let me see. She adjusted her glasses so she could read her notes again. “I was actually surprised that I was able to speak with the president of L & L directly. He was very kind and, here it is, his name was Jamie.”

Jackson did not look pleased, but she didn’t care. “Jamie,” she went on, “described you as tenacious, efficient, smart, and knowledgeable. But also a little—” She stopped, shut the notebook, and stuffed it back in her purse.

“A little what?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s not important.” But Jackson’s stern expression told her just the opposite.

“Boy, Jamie was right about you,” she said. “If you must know, he said you were known to be a little bullheaded at times. But he was also considerate enough to call you his number one man.”

“Is that so?”

She nodded, happy with herself for saving money by doing the investigation on Jackson Lang herself. “Everything looks in order,” she went on. “I checked with a friend of mine at police headquarters and you have no criminal history to speak of. A few speeding tickets…but other than that, I don’t see anything to worry about. Being that you work for L & L, I assume you make a decent living. But I must also assume, since you haven’t backed out of our deal yet, that you are having financial difficulties.”

She reached up and anchored her hair behind her ears. She was beginning to feel much more at ease, as if she was actually in control of the situation. “I want to assure you I will be more than happy to pay for groceries and utilities. You needn’t worry about any of that. Here,” she said, handing him a new set of papers.

He took the papers, but damn it all, his fingers brushed against the sensitive part of her palm, sending rows of tiny goose bumps up her arm.

“They’re questions,” she said, feeling discombobulated.

“I can see that.”

She inwardly chastised herself for reacting to every touch and look he sent her way. Sitting up taller, she said, “If you could answer all of the questions in as much detail as possible, I’d appreciate it. That way, when people ask me about you, I’ll have answers.”

Jackson flipped through the pages, his motions tense. Randomly, he read a few questions aloud. “Do I drink coffee?” He turned another page. “Do I have any tattoos or noticeable birth marks? What is the worst thing I’ve ever done to an animal?” He looked at her as if she were mentally unstable. “I’ve never hurt an animal in my life.”

He snapped his fingers, causing her to jump. Then he said, “Do spiders count?”

She forced a smile before averting her gaze.

“Am I making you nervous?” he asked.

“Of course not.” She forced herself to keep eye contact with him. “Are you going to order coffee, Mr. Lang?”

“No, thanks. And call me Jackson.”

He glanced back at the papers, giving her the opportunity to study the faint lines across his forehead and the wave of glossy black hair falling across his brow.

“I do have a problem with one thing,” he said, setting the papers aside.

“What’s that?”

“It would make good business sense, being that you want this arrangement to appear on the up and up, for you to move into my home after we’re married instead of the other way around.”

“I understand what you’re saying…I mean, that would probably be the sensible thing to do…I guess, but—”

“There’s plenty of room,” he assured her, “and that would take care of the cooking problem since I’m sure Chris wouldn’t mind cooking for one more.”

“Chris? Your girlfriend?”

He actually grinned. “Chris is a man. You’ll like him.”

Madison nearly fell out of her chair.

Jackson was gay!

She put a hand to her chest. For the first time in fifteen minutes, no, make that days, she took a breath…a long deep breath. “I—I think you’re absolutely right,” she said with too much enthusiasm. “What a fantastic idea. Having Chris there will make everything easier.”

She smiled, the kind of smile reserved for really great stuff—like winning the lottery.
The man was gay
. Which explained why Jackson had acted so mysterious. He needed a different image at work. That’s why he was doing this. She couldn’t have planned it any better if she had tried. Mr. Mysterious wasn’t such a mystery after all. The next three months would be like living with a couple of girlfriends. “So tell me about Chris,” she said excitedly. “He enjoys cooking?”

“That’s pretty much what he does.”

“You mean he’s a chef?” A hundred pounds of worry floated right off of her shoulders. “What restaurant does he work for?”

“He only cooks for me.”

“Oh, I see.”
Evidently, poor ol’ Chris had the raw end of the deal
.

“I’m glad you agree,” Jackson said. “Now, about the wedding. Under the circumstances, I feel a quick ceremony without fanfare would be best.”

“Oh, yes,” she agreed. “I hadn’t given it much thought, but that sounds good to me. Little fanfare.” She waved a hand through the air. “Heck, no fanfare!” She couldn’t stop grinning.

“Mind telling me what you suddenly find so damned amusing?”

Giddiness threatened to consume her. “It’s just that I’ve had this terrible headache for days. But all of a sudden it just sort of went ‘poof.’” She swept her hand through the air. “It just disappeared.” She leaned back, relaxed. “By the way, did you get a chance to do any research on me?”

He nodded. “Like your friend said, you’re as clean as a whistle.”

That statement wiped the smile right off her face. She was as clean as a whistle and as boring as an old tree stump. She sighed. The meeting had worn her out. Madison pushed her chair from the table and stood. “Let me know if you have a problem with any of those questions,” she said. Then she gestured toward the back of the café. “I need to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.”

She walked to the back of the Café and made a left into a darkened alcove. Now that she was out of view, she leaned against the cool wall and closed her eyes. She didn’t need to use the restroom, she just needed a few moments to herself. She had been hoping to find a nice, gentle sort of man—someone safe like Jackson. Everything was working out perfect. “He may be self-assured and too darn good-looking,” she said aloud, “but he’s—”

“Excuse me,” Jackson said, appearing out of nowhere.

Her face felt as if it were on fire, as if she were in high school and had been caught cheating on a test or making out with a boy in the hallway.
Dream on
. She’d hardly kissed any boys at all…not until Steve. She had thought Steve truly loved her, too. He’d been a patient man, and she always felt safe with him, even after he convinced her that sleeping with him was the only way she could prove her love for him. And so they made love…and shortly afterward he left her.

Returning to the matter at hand, Madison unglued herself from the wall and looked at Jackson, wondering why he’d followed her. She tried to walk back to the main section of the coffee shop, but Jackson stood in her way. “You’re done looking over the questions?” she asked him.

“Plenty of time for that later. I could tell that you were upset. The restrooms are on the other side of the building. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

There was something about the look in his eye that made her uneasy.

He took a step toward her; a hawk hovering over his prey before swooping down for the kill. At such close range, she couldn’t help but notice the strong cords of his neck. The earthy scent of him tickled her nose. Instinct caused her to take a step back. Once again she had her back to the wall.

“I think you should know that I think we’ll get along just fine,” he said, taking another step forward so that she was trapped between his chest and the wall.

“Oh,” she said. “I’m g-glad.”

~~~

Jackson moved closer.

She sure could play the innocent, he thought, enjoying the fact that he was making her squirm. She managed to play the demure, bashful young lady as if she’d been rehearsing for the part all of her life. But she looked scared, too. Of what? She was the one who came up with this harebrained idea. He just happened to be the unlucky guy who had managed to get himself caught right smack in the middle of it all. If only she knew why he was really here—because her cousin, Heather, had asked him to marry her only so he could pull out at the last moment and stop Madison from getting her greedy hands on money that didn’t belong to her. What would Madison do if he told her he knew exactly what she was up to—that he knew she was trying to swindle them all?

If he told her everything, maybe she’d drop the innocent act. He’d see her true colors then, wouldn’t he? And then she’d find some other poor foolish sap to marry her. This marriage proposal of hers had nothing to do with neglected children and that’s what really ticked him off.

If Madison wanted to play games, Jackson decided, he was going to make sure he won the first set.

She wanted rules. Well, good. Rules were made to be broken. And he aimed to make that perfectly clear right from the start. He wasn’t fond of being forced into anything—especially marriage—and although his predicament wasn’t entirely her fault, she was the pawn in the game—the one who made the first move, but not necessarily the one who would make the last. He didn’t want to be standing here anymore than he wanted to dive off a cliff. But here he was, and he didn’t like the frightened little girl look in her big doll-face eyes when she looked at him, or the way her bottom lip kept getting caught between her straight white teeth. He especially didn’t like the fact that he was attracted to her. Since when had bespectacled, no-frills women in overalls caused him to take notice?

“I like you,” he said as he watched her crystal-blue eyes grow bigger. “You’ve got gumption. And you have pretty eyes, too.”

He slid the glasses from her face. Using his free hand, he tilted her chin upward so she had no choice but to look at him, really look at him. “I don’t know what you’re trying to hide,” he said, “but it’s not working. You can’t hide eyes like those.”

She grabbed her glasses from him, slid them over the bridge of her nose and pushed away from him so she could march back to their table.

He followed her. There was no way he was going to make this easy on her. He didn’t believe the disadvantaged-kid story any more than he believed she was the shy, innocent woman she pretended to be.

The easy sway of her hips beneath soft denim mesmerized him as he followed after her. Today her hair hung loose about her shoulders and back. Long silken dark hair that made his fingers itch to touch it—see if the silky strands felt as soft as they looked.

He shook his head at how easily she caused him to lose his concentration. If she was determined to go through with this charade, the two of them would be married. And then he would have plenty of time to teach Mrs. Madison Lang a lesson she would not soon forget.

~~~

Before taking a seat at their table, Madison turned to face him and found herself inches from his chest. Damn him, anyhow. He was enjoying this. “There are a few more things I should mention before you make your final decision.” Her headache was back in full force. Flustered, Madison looked out the window and saw a tall, blond-haired woman coming their way. “I can’t believe this!”

He followed her gaze. “What?”

“It’s Barbara. She’s coming this way.”

“Your friend?”

“Sort of, I guess.” The woman was actually a close friend of her cousin Heather, but there was no need to tell him that. “She lives nearby,” Madison explained. “It’s too soon for anyone to see us together. Barbara will never fall for it. As soon as she sees that this thing between the two of us is nothing but a farce, she’ll run off to report any doubts she has to my cousin Heather.” Her heart raced. “I wasn’t going to let anyone meet you until it was absolutely necessary.”

Barbara saw the two of them through the window. Her eyes lit up.

Madison stepped away from him. “Here.” She grabbed the questionnaire from the table and tucked it under his arm. “If you could answer these questions, maybe we could meet again this weekend to discuss them. By then we should know enough about one another and if all goes well, we can—”

“Get married.”

“Exactly.” Her stomach turned. “Oh, I forgot to tell you the most important part. Mr. Razzano, the executor in charge of the trust fund, wants to meet you as soon as possible.”

“He needs to meet me?”

“Afraid so. He said it was standard procedure in cases such as this. In accordance with the will, he needs to make sure you’re—you know—suitable. Will Saturday work for you?”

“Fine,” he said under his breath, although he looked more than a little put out.

She nodded.

A rush of cool air entered the coffee shop along with Barbara. The woman had a thick crop of blond hair piled on top of her head. “What a surprise. How are you, Madison?”

“Fine, thank you. So nice to see you.” Madison gave the woman an awkward hug before stepping back so that she could make introductions. “Barbara, this is Mr.—this is Jackson—my fiancé.”

Barbara’s mouth fell open. “Congratulations. I had no idea.”

Jackson shook the woman’s hand and then casually draped his arm over Madison’s shoulder.

“Unfortunately, Jackson’s in kind of a hurry,” Madison said, her gaze directed at his hand as it dangled precariously close to her breast. “He has important business that can’t wait another minute.” She looked up at him, and then finally nudged him, hoping he would take the hint.

After an awkward moment, he winked at Madison. “That’s right. In fact, I’m late…very late for that very important meeting I told you about. I should’ve been there hours ago.”

Madison tried not to laugh. He was a horrible liar.

Jackson dropped his hand from her shoulder and offered it once again to Barbara. “It was nice meeting you.”