Bewitched (22 page)

He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at her, his gaze hard and direct, unrelenting. “Yes. I'm going to get married.”

T
HE LOOK
on her face wasn't encouraging, R.J. thought. She appeared caught between disbelief, nausea and hysteria. The disbelief he understood perfectly. Dana knew better than most how he felt about marriage.

The nausea and hysteria he hoped were from surprise.
Happy
surprise.

Then that serene curtain dropped over her features and her expression became blank. It annoyed him that she worked so hard to hide her feelings from him, especially now, when he needed to know what she was thinking.

She looked past him, not meeting his eyes. “I see. Are you sure that's the…right move to make?”

Her voice trembled the tiniest bit, and R.J. wondered how best to explain his plan so he could gain her cooperation.

With an edge of steel in his tone, he said, “I don't see too many other options, Dana. I thought about it last night, before Markum even offered the money for the exclusive. If I marry, I'll immediately represent the settled, domestic family man instead of a free-swinging bachelor.”

Obviously agitated, she got up to pour herself more coffee. It struck him that they spent a lot more time talking lately than usual. When she'd come in, Dana had set a large stack of files on her desk. Work she'd taken home? His resolve hardened as he considered that possibility.

“Dana, have I put you behind in your work by bringing my personal problems into the office?” He wasn't used to sharing
his worries so openly, so he hadn't even noticed the amount of time he'd kept her away from her desk.

She waved the suggestion away. “No, of course not.”

She sounded positive, but he couldn't let it go. “You're the most industrious woman I've ever known. I can't remember a time when you haven't filled every available minute with work, but for some time now you've been coddling me while I sit here and grumble.”

“That's not true!” Her head lifted with a brief show of temper, ready to defend him—even against himself. “You've had a lot on your mind and I've…I've enjoyed our chats.”

He nodded at the stack of files. “Have you been working at home?”

Her expression turned wary. “Just a little.”

“Then how have you been keeping up, because I know you too well to think you'd ever let yourself fall behind. You're as conscientious about work as I am.”

Her eyes narrowed and her shoulders squared. “If you must know, I've been coming in earlier, getting things done before you arrive.”

“Goddamn it.” Filled with disgust for himself, R.J. sighed loudly. “That's what I was afraid of. But it's at an end right now, honey, you understand?”

At the use of the endearment, she froze, and her slender brows shot up a good inch. She turned mute on him, merely staring.

R.J. chuckled. “Well, that certainly got your attention, didn't it?”

“I—”

“No, don't start explaining things to me. I'm sorry if I took you by surprise.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and he noticed how the gesture made the bottom of her jacket flare open, displaying the curves of her hips. Damned if he'd ever noticed before that Dana
had
hips! The discovery filled him with disquiet
and a simmering curiosity, which he doggedly suppressed. “No more working before or after hours, understood?”

“Whatever you say, R.J.”

Which meant she'd do whatever she damn well pleased, R.J. thought. He sighed again in massive frustration, then decided to let it go. After all, if things went according to plan, he'd soon be in a better position to know if she was working more than she should. “I think we need to get back on the topic.”

That got her moving. She darted around the office, busying herself with everything and nothing. But instead of her usual smooth movements, every gesture seemed strained and jerky, as if driven by temper.

“Dana, will you settle down? I'm trying to talk to you.”

She glanced at him as she bustled past. “About your marriage? Good luck. Oh, and congratulations.”

He caught her arm and drew her to a standstill in front of him. “I'm not done explaining.”

She glared at him, her eyes every bit as bright as the emerald just visible at her throat. She'd worn the necklace every day since he'd given it to her, and there were times when he wondered if she'd taken it off at all. Picturing it on her while she slept or showered had provided him with a few uncomfortable moments.

“What's to explain? It's an idiotic plan, but then I'm just the secretary, so what do I know?”

Her vehemence took him off guard. When she again tried to pull away, he gently maintained his hold with both hands. “I suspect you have quite a bit to say about it.”

“Oh, no, you don't. You're not going to involve me in this farce.” She struggled against him again, and when he didn't release her, went back to killing him with her eyes. “You want to marry some bimbo for the sake of your image, that's fine, but don't expect me to give my blessing. That's asking too much!”

He couldn't help but laugh at that, which made her
practically growl in response. She looked ready to inflict violence on him.

“Dana… No, just hold still a minute, will you?” As she settled mutinously in his grip, he added, “And please refrain from calling yourself a bimbo. Even if you know something I don't about your character, I'm afraid I can't tolerate that type of insult.” He watched her closely as he continued, waiting for her reaction. “Not to my future wife.”

He was taking a huge gamble, joking about it that way, but he thought it might make things easier for her if he set the tone up front for what their marriage would be. It wouldn't be a romantic alliance, so he'd be damned if he'd go down on one knee.

Dana became curiously still in front of him. Her eyes were enormous, her brows puckering her forehead with a look of guarded trepidation. “What in the world are you talking about?”

With a subtle pressure, he slid his hands up her arms, attempting to ease her tension. His thumbs settled into the hollows where her shoulders blended into her upper chest. She was so small-boned, his fingers spread easily over her back, nearly covering her shoulder blades. He felt a small quiver go through her and released her.

Apparently she had given up on running from him, so at least he'd get the chance to better explain his intent. He had no doubt he'd get her eventual agreement, but he wanted to make it as easy as possible, to avoid any major conflicts. The truth was, he had no real idea how she'd react.

He spoke in murmuring tones, not wanting her to feel pushed. “You and I have always understood each other, Dana. We work well together, and in all the years I've known you, we've never had a genuine quarrel.”

“That's only because I learned early on how to get around your temper, R.J.”

He held his smile in check. “Exactly. You're intelligent,
and you're quick.” She looked far from complimented by his praise, so he cut to the heart of the matter. “I think we'll suit each other quite well. I need a wife who can counter all this nasty gossip and handle herself well under pressure. I need someone with a respectable background, with no outrageous secrets to uncover. You're quietly elegant, and you have a sophistication all your own.”

Dana groped behind her for the desk, and still almost missed it when she went to lean her hip there. R.J. caught her before she could tumble to the floor, then kept one hand on her elbow until she was safely propped on the edge. Still, he stayed close because she didn't look at all steady. It wasn't like Dana to be clumsy, and he chose to see it as a good sign.

R.J. watched her with quiet intent, trying to decipher her thoughts, to gauge his next move. There were a lot of emotions flashing across her face, but gleeful acceptance wasn't one of them.

“Dana?” When her gaze lifted to his, he tried for a reassuring smile. “I realize you might not have been expecting this, but I promise you, I've given it a lot of thought.”

She stared at him, not blinking, and a new possibility occurred to him, making him frown. “You're not involved with anyone.”

He made it a statement rather than a question. He'd never heard of her seriously dating—hell, he'd never heard of her dating at all. But that didn't mean there wasn't someone hovering on the sidelines, and that possibility made him clench his fists with unwarranted anger. For all he knew, despite her reserved demeanor at work, she could be having a torrid affair with any number of men who—

Without a word, she shook her head, putting his mind, and his temper, at ease.

He told himself he didn't want his plans thwarted, but he knew there was another reason for his relief. Dana had been his for a long time.
His
secretary,
his
friend,
his
confidante.
He wasn't a man to share in any way, shape or form. “Good. That's good.”

She still hadn't said anything, and annoyance gnawed at the fringes of his good intentions. “I want to assure you that things will go on pretty much as usual, if that's a concern.”

One of her brows inched up higher than the other.

“We're friends and we'll remain so, “he went on. “That won't change. You won't be expected to sleep with me. My house is plenty large enough to accommodate two people. You'll have your own room and as much privacy as you might need.”

Her look became so incredulous his temper snapped. “You could damn well say something!”

“I…I don't know what to say. You want a…a marriage of convenience?”

Hadn't he made that clear from the start? He gave one brisk nod.

She looked at him with accusation plain in her eyes. “But that's positively archaic!”

He kept his sigh to himself. He didn't understand this new show of temper, when he'd meant to reassure her. “It's a viable solution.”

Shaking her head as if in wonder, she carefully edged around him and walked across the office. R.J. allowed her to think things through for a few minutes, forcing himself into an unaccustomed patience. Generally when he wanted something, he went after it with single-minded determination. This marriage was no different.

She kept pacing, and the silence got to him. “How old are you, Dana?”

She barely glanced at him, lost in her contemplation. “Twenty-nine.”

Even though Dana had been friends with his sister forever, R.J. realized he knew little about her personal life. He frowned. “Have you ever been married?”

She cast him a worried glance. “No.”

“Engaged?”

“No.”

He nodded in satisfaction—and mingled relief. “That's what I thought. It's obvious to me that you're not some romantic dreamer who's waiting for a knight in shining armor to come along and put stars in your eyes. You're rock solid—”

“Be still my heart.”

“—and mature and reasonable.”

“Gosh, you make me sound just lovely. Like a decrepit old spinster.”

She drew closer and he caught her, forcing her to look at him. He cupped her face, ignoring her sudden breathless reaction to his touch and his nearness.

Given the way he'd sprung things on her, she was justifiably on edge. He didn't mind her honest reaction, but he refused to let her shut him out. “Dana, honey, I don't mean to make those attributes sound like insults. The truth is, I like you a lot. There aren't many women I'd make such a proposition to.”

“Uh-huh.” She didn't look at all convinced. “You do mean proposal, don't you?”

“Semantics.” His fingertips were in her hair, and he felt its softness, its warmth, without disturbing the careful arrangement. Again, he wondered about her hair, how it would look loose. As soon as they were married, that was one curiosity he'd put to rest. “I'm talking about a business arrangement. As my wife, new doors will open for you.”

“I don't need any doors opened,” she said quietly.

“Your life will be easier,” he argued. “You wouldn't have to work if you didn't want to—”

“Whoa, just a minute.”

Again she stepped out of his reach, moving a good two yards away then turning to face him. Her cheeks were bright red, but her eyes were direct and resolute, her shoulders
squared as if for battle. R.J. thought she would refuse him, and already he was forming arguments to sway her to his way of thinking. She should know him well enough to realize he didn't give up his goals easily. She must also realize that a wife would be the most expedient way to repair his reputation.

And he hadn't lied to her; in fact, she was the
only
woman he'd be willing to make such an alliance with.

“First,” she said, raising one finger in an imperious manner fit for a queen, “I'm going to work. There's no way I want someone else financially responsible for me.”

His stomach muscles tensed as the meaning behind her words kicked in.
She was going to agree.
All that was left was the negotiation, and he had no doubt that would go his way. He struggled to keep his satisfaction hidden, not wanting to give her more reasons for anger. If she knew how triumphant he felt right now, she probably wouldn't like it.

However, he couldn't do a damn thing about his small smile.

“If you want to work, that's fine,” R.J. murmured. He really didn't care one way or the other, but he hoped to change her mind once they were wed. As he'd explained, the marriage would be a business agreement, and he'd owe her for agreeing to it. Giving her some much-needed time away from work seemed like the perfect start to him. Dana had taken few vacations over the years, and to his knowledge, she'd never traveled far. She deserved to go anywhere she liked, maybe to Paris or New Orleans. And he'd gladly fund the trip. Or perhaps she'd like to buy herself more emeralds.

Strangely enough, he could easily picture her decked solely in emeralds, and the image was decidedly erotic. He would, he decided, make the arrangement for more jewelry himself.