Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
J osephine glanced up from her spot on the couch. Her legs were curled beneath her as she edited some content for her blog. “Where are you off to, looking like that?”
We’d spent the morning enjoying a facial and a massage, which had given me a lot of quiet time to consider everything. Even when Jo and I had been lounging by the pool, creating content for my blog and her YouStream channel, my mind had been preoccupied with thoughts of Graham and his proposal. Almost twenty-four hours later, my head was still spinning.
Several unread text messages from my architect were sitting on my phone. Any time my phone buzzed, I jolted, worrying it was from him or one of my family members. I needed to respond to my architect, even if just to let him know I needed more time to decide on some of his requests regarding various restoration projects, but I kept delaying the inevitable. Because I knew what every text meant: more money.
“Lil?” Josephine asked.
“Dinner,” I said, knowing she already had plans to meet up with another content creator she’d been dying to collaborate with.
“ With …”
“My old boss.”
“Graham?” She practically choked on his name.
“Yes. It’s not a big deal. Okay?”
“Mm.” She gave me a once-over. “Then why are you dressed like that ?”
I glanced down at my dress, smoothing my hands over the fabric. It was a gorgeous blue ombre maxi dress that hugged my curves. The top was low, nearly dipping down to my navel. I’d used a ton of fabric tape to make sure it stayed in place. And I’d paired it with a starfish necklace and earrings. I’d twisted my hair—Francine again but refreshed after our impromptu swim last night—back into a low, messy bun.
“Too much?” I asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
“Depends on your goals,” she said, waggling her brows. “Is this a business meeting, or something else?” She gave me a meaningful look.
In truth, it was both. But I couldn’t tell her that.
“Tell me honestly,” she said, leaning in. “Do you have a crush on Graham? Because I always sort of suspected… And then last night…”
“I, uh…” What am I supposed to say?
She smirked. “Oh, come on. You can’t tell me you aren’t attracted to him. The man looks like he walked off the cover of a magazine. And the way you always talked about him, I just sort of assumed.”
“Assumed what?” I asked, resisting the urge to cross my arms over my chest, though I didn’t disagree. Graham was something. Dark, curly hair. Chiseled jawline. Full lips. And those enigmatic green eyes that made me want to squirm beneath his perusal even while they heated my skin.
That whole “chemistry test.” Just thinking of it had my skin growing warm. And I’d definitely spent some quality time with my vibrator last night just so I could fall asleep.
“Assumed you were crushing on him. Hell, I wouldn’t blame you. He’s hot in that stern, dominating way. I mean…” She flopped back on the couch. “He seems so buttoned-up, but I bet he’s a freak in the sheets.”
“Okay.” I rolled my eyes, tossing one of the throw pillows at her. “That’s enough.”
“Oh, come on.” She caught it and sank down on the couch, clutching it to her chest. “You can’t tell me you aren’t dying to know if I’m right . ”
I barked out a laugh, though mostly it was to hide my discomfort. After what had happened last night, I had a feeling she was right. But I snapped my mouth shut.
“You sure you don’t know? I mean…you didn’t come back to the room until really late last night. And you were only wearing a robe.”
“Because I fell into the pool,” I protested. “And he offered to have my clothes laundered by the hotel staff.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes,” I said. “That’s it.”
“So, if you didn’t sleep with him…” She sounded disappointed. “Then what did happen?”
I lifted a shoulder as I finished putting on my heels, a pair of strappy gold sandals that I adored. I hadn’t had an opportunity to wear them in a while since most of my days were spent in dusty overalls, work boots, and shirts dappled with paint. “We talked.”
My eye snagged on the bandage on my ankle, and I stilled, remembering how Graham’s hands had felt on my skin. His entire demeanor had softened, his touch gentle and caring. Lingering.
“Right.” She crossed her arms over her chest, jolting me from the memory. “‘Talked,’” she said, using air quotes.
My cheeks heated, and I felt as if she could read my thoughts. “We did!” I protested, perhaps a bit too ardently.
“For hours?” Her tone was rife with skepticism, as was her expression.
“We hadn’t seen each other in two years. We had a lot to catch up on. And he had questions about my blog.”
I was being intentionally vague. Jo was my best friend, but if Graham and I went through with our crazy plan, there was a lot on the line—twenty million dollars and the chance to make my dream a reality.
Her eyes widened. “Shit. He knows you’re Gilded Lily? Was he pissed?”
I lifted a shoulder. “He wasn’t pleased.”
“But he still invited you to dinner tonight.”
“Mm-hmm.” I pulled out the compact mirror from my purse, busying myself with reapplying my lip gloss. “Do you think I should change?”
“You look hot,” Jo said. “But I didn’t have to tell you that. And no, I don’t think you should change. Not unless you want to.”
There was a knock at the door—short and authoritative. Oh good. He’s here.
I took a deep breath and slid my hands down my dress. “Looks like it’s too late to change even if I wanted to.”
She headed for the door. “He’s going to have a heart attack.”
I felt like I might have one myself.
I told myself it was because my future hung on this dinner. But it was more than that. And after last night, I wasn’t sure what to think. About his proposal. Our almost-kiss. This spontaneous dinner invitation. Any of it.
I knew what Graham’s schedule was like. Hell, I’d been responsible for managing it for a year. I knew he maximized his working hours for efficiency and productivity. He rarely did anything spontaneous, unless it was important. And this dinner—not to mention his marriage proposal—was nothing if not spontaneous.
I’d spent the past hour getting ready for it, and I still felt completely unprepared. Before I could back out or make up some excuse for not going, Jo answered the door.
Graham’s deep voice reverberated through me from the hall as he introduced himself to her. And when he stepped into the suite, I stilled. Graham looked good. Too good.
My stomach fluttered, with nerves or excitement, I wasn’t sure. Especially as he continued to study me. Judging from his reaction, he liked what he saw.
The air was charged with something, and I felt myself being pulled closer to him. Drawn to him. His eyes raked me from head to toe, lingering on the large swath of skin revealed by my dress. I could feel my skin heating, my blood whooshing in my ears.
“Are you ready?” he rasped.
I nodded and grabbed my clutch, wishing I could make my hands stop shaking. Graham placed a soft kiss to my cheek, and I felt frozen to the spot. I could feel Jo’s eyes on us, watching curiously. I knew she had questions, and I couldn’t blame her. If our roles were reversed, I’d definitely have questions.
I was grateful when Graham offered me his arm, giving me an escape. I looped my arm through his, grateful for his steadying presence.
“Have fun.” Jo winked, and the door closed behind us.
“Thanks.” I waved goodbye and let him guide me down the hall.
I kept my attention focused on the elevators, trying not to laugh when one of the employees stopped and gawked at him from the hallway. Behind her, another employee with a cart of food narrowly missed running into her coworker. They glanced at each other then started whispering, their attention on Graham.
Once they were out of earshot, I said, “You do realize that everyone will be talking about this, right?”
He glanced down at me, one eyebrow arched. “That was kind of the point.”
Right. Of course. Graham never did anything without a game plan. I didn’t know whether that made me feel better or worse.
When we arrived at one of the on-site restaurants, Azul, the hostess led us to a candlelit table overlooking the ocean. It was intimate. Romantic. Definitely didn’t feel like a business meeting.
Right. All part of the show. I’d do well to remember that.
Graham pulled out my chair for me. I took in the view from our perch on the edge of the cliff, feeling as if I were balanced on my own precipice. I could keep trying to save the chateau on my own. Or I could marry Graham and restore it to its former glory.
Part of me cringed at the idea of marrying for money, even if we both knew this was a business transaction going in. The other part was just so exhausted. I knew I couldn’t keep operating at the level I was. And if I wasn’t careful, I’d lose everything.
“How’s your ankle? Is it healing okay?” he asked.
“I…yeah.” I pulled my lip between my teeth. “Thank you.”
We ordered drinks and our meal, and then the waiter left. Graham’s green eyes bored into mine, and I couldn’t help but get a little lost in them. I’d always thought he was attractive, but something seemed different tonight. Or maybe I’d never felt the full focus of his attention. Not like this.
“How are you enjoying the resort?” he asked.
“I, um—” I tucked my hair behind my ear. “I didn’t think you were interested in my feedback.”
“Perhaps I should’ve been more open to your suggestions,” he said, surprising me again. I’d seen him act like this in negotiations. Graham could definitely be charming when he wanted. “What you’ve accomplished with your blog is impressive.”
I blinked a few times, completely shocked. Was he…complimenting me?
Yes, Graham could be charming, but he could also be relentless, committed to a course of action. But as tenacious as he could be, he was never ruthless or brutal. He was guided by a strong moral code, a deep sense of loyalty and duty. When he put his mind to something, he was determined to see it through.
“Thank you.”
“That said, your blog could be a sticking point with my family, especially regarding—” he leaned in “—our story.”
“Wow. Okay. So we’re jumping straight to that.”
He smoothed a hand down his tie. “What else would we be here to discuss?”
“I don’t know.” I glanced around the room. “We might just try to slow down. Treat it like a real date. See how things go before jumping into negotiations.”
“Seems like a waste of time.”
“Is foreplay a waste of time?” I arched a brow, wondering what had come over me. Why had I made an analogy to sex instead of a business meeting?
“Point taken.” He cleared his throat, straightening his silverware so it was perfectly spaced. “So, how was your day?”
I bit back a smile. Graham wasn’t typically one for small talk, but I appreciated that he was trying. “It was nice. And thank you for replacing my phone. You didn’t have to do that, but I’m grateful.”
This morning, a brand-new iPhone had been delivered to my suite. It was identical to my old one but with more storage. Even the case was the same, but it no longer had the smudge marks on it from that time I’d dropped it. And all the files had been restored, though I had no idea how he’d managed that.
“It was nothing.”
“Well, it meant a lot to me,” I said.
“Did you get to do much exploring today?”
“I checked out the spa. Lounged on the beach. You?”
“Mostly meetings.”
I wasn’t surprised, though the idea that he was missing out on such an incredible place saddened me. Not to mention the fact that he’d worked so hard on this location and he wasn’t even getting to enjoy his accomplishment.
I searched for a more neutral topic. Something Graham would enjoy talking about. Something that would prompt him to give me more than just a single-word answer.
“Has Atlas Blackwood visited the hotel since it opened?” I didn’t want to stick to “work” subjects, but I knew it was a safer place to start. It would help put us both at ease.
The waiter returned to the table with our meals. My dinner smelled delicious, but I could barely do more than pick at it while I listened to Graham talk about Atlas. For a fake date, I was surprisingly nervous. Maybe because I knew how much was riding on this. So, I sipped my wine, trying to balance my need to relax with my desire to remain clearheaded.
Eventually, Graham frowned at my plate. “Are you not enjoying your meal?”
“I—” I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth. The food, even what little of it I’d tasted, had been delicious. But I was so keyed up, I’d barely been able to enjoy it. “I am. I’m just…distracted.”
Graham leaned forward, placing his hand over mine. My pulse kicked up a beat. Especially when he angled himself so our foreheads were almost kissing. Energy sizzled between us, and I tried to focus on his words instead of the way his large hand felt blanketing mine.
“If you’re still interested in my offer, come to my room after dinner, and we’ll talk. For now, let’s try to enjoy our meal. Weren’t you the one who suggested this was foreplay?”
Was it my imagination, or was his voice deeper? I was convinced I’d imagined it, but then I met his eyes. His drank me in, like I was something he wanted to devour.
“Isn’t this cozy?” a man asked, snapping me out of the trance.
Graham’s eyes remained on me, despite the interruption. I expected him to yank his hand back from mine, but if anything, he tightened his grip ever so slightly. I forced myself to keep my hand on the table despite my knee-jerk reaction to hide it.
“Hey, Jasper.” I smiled at him, the motion feeling forced.
“Liliana,” he said. “Nice to see you again.”
I bobbed my head. “You too.”
“Brother.” Graham tilted his chin in acknowledgment, an unspoken look passing between them that I couldn’t decipher.
Jasper glanced from Graham to me, curiosity lighting his features. Finally, he asked, “What do you think of the hotel, Liliana? I trust you’re enjoying your stay.”
“Yes.” I swallowed, grateful for the change of topic. “Absolutely. It’s a lovely property, and all the staff have been so wonderful.” The words tumbled out of me, and I knew I needed to slow down.
“Good. I know you got to sample the pool last night, but hopefully you’ve been enjoying some of our other amenities.” He had a teasing glint in his eye, but I knew he meant no harm by it.
Before I could respond, Graham stood, folding his napkin and placing it in his chair. “Jasper.” Graham grabbed him by the elbow. “A word.”
I tried not to stare as Graham practically dragged his brother to the kitchen, disappearing briefly behind a door. I smoothed my hand over my napkin and picked at my meal, trying to ignore the curious looks of nearby diners.
A few minutes passed, and then Graham strode over to the table with a sense of confidence I envied. Everyone watched him—how could they not? He was enigmatic and exuded power as he sliced through the room with ease.
He skimmed his hand along the back of my chair, his touch a ghost on my skin that left goose bumps in its wake. This definitely felt more like foreplay than a business meeting. Especially when Graham leaned over, his breath tickling the shell of my ear as he rasped, “Sorry about that.”
I shivered. “No problem. Everything okay?”
“Just Jasper being Jasper.” He took his seat and picked up his fork and knife. We ate in silence, and I tried to come up with something to discuss. Something that wasn’t related to his proposal or his job or anything else that might increase the tension already arcing between us.
“How is Jasper?” I finally asked, knowing how important Graham’s brother was to him, even if Jasper annoyed him at times.
“Good.” Graham set down his fork and took a sip of his wine. Even after all this time, his one-word responses could still catch me off guard.
Silence. Not awkward. But also not entirely comfortable. It was as if we were struggling to find our footing in this new dynamic. We were no longer boss and employee, and I wasn’t quite sure what we were.
I studied him, trying to imagine what it would be like to pretend to be married to him.
“You’re lucky to have such a supportive family who loves you.” I only wished I had that kind of relationship with even one of my siblings.
I hadn’t heard anything more from them since my mom’s text that I was selfish and needed to apologize to my sister. And I hadn’t reached out either. Nor did I intend to.
“I know the three of you didn’t always agree on everything, but you have one another’s backs. And while I have a team of kind, talented workers at the chateau…” I drew in a shaky breath, surprised that I was going to admit this. But I supposed if Graham could attempt to make small talk, then I could share something about myself. “It really all falls on me.”
He placed his hand over mine again, and my skin zinged from that touch. “I know what that feels like. And if you agree to this, to my proposal, I promise you will have the support you need.”
If Graham was trying to sell me on the idea, he was doing a good job. I’d been drowning in decisions and responsibility and debt, and he was offering a lifeline. He was offering something even more priceless—understanding.
I found myself wanting to share more moments like this with him. And it gave me hope that maybe this crazy idea could work.