Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Tristan
Parker was better company that I’d expected.
Not that I’d been expecting tonight to be bad.
I just never had expectations when it came to a date.
All too often, I’d thought a date would go well and been sorely disappointed—either we didn’t have anything in common or I found myself making all the conversation.
I’d kind of given up. I had my fair share of hookups, but dating had taken a back seat to most things in my life.
After tonight, I might be reassessing my priorities.
Parker was more beautiful than I remembered. The sassy almost-black bob and her ruby red lips were far from my usual type, but there was something about her that I couldn’t look away from. She was sexy—not just because of how she looked, but because of how she was.
“I’m intrigued,” I said. “Tell me how marrying you would be the solution to all our problems.”
“If you were my father’s son-in-law, you’d get anything you needed from him.”
“Except I don’t need anything from him.”
“Right, but I didn’t know that until just now.”
“Okay, and why would it work for you? Don’t tell me you just want me for my body.”
She grinned and the flush in her cheeks told me she didn’t mind my body one bit. “My charity always needs money and I’d like to donate my trust fund to supporting not just the children who have heart defects, but their families too. The strain this kind of illness puts on a family is unimaginable.”
It wasn’t unimaginable to me.
“I want to provide support for the entire family—accommodation close to the hospital if they need it, counselling for parents and siblings, academic support if it’s needed. That kind of thing.”
I nodded, trying to push down the memories of my family before my sister died.
Looking back, it was no wonder my parents split up.
With constant relays to the hospital, they rarely both stayed under one roof.
The pressure of having to make life-and-death decisions on a regular basis, the limbo we all lived in—it was an impossible situation.
I’d buried myself in my computer, grieving the loss of my family way before my sister died and my parents divorced.
“I could do all that if I had access to my trust fund. But stupid rules say I have to be twenty-five and married.”
I frowned. She didn’t look old, but she looked over twenty-five. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight, so no problem there. My issue is I’m single—and happily so. I was never that girl dreaming about her wedding day. My work is my life. I don’t have time for anything else. It’s just I wouldn’t mind the twenty-five million I’d get if I walk down the aisle.”
“That’s a lot of money. And a lot of incentive to get married.”
“It is. I don’t want it for me. I just know I could do so much good if I could get my hands on it.
” She shrugged. “Anyway, I wasn’t really serious about getting married.
My friend suggested I should ask whoever won the date, because if you were trying to impress my dad, you might be willing to do it. ”
We were interrupted by Antonio coming over with our pudding.
“I hope it’s what you were expecting,” Antonio said, glancing at me. His nose wrinkled in disgust at the bespoke dessert I’d ordered.
“Thank you,” I said. “It’s appreciated.”
“Cream puffs?” Parker said, her eyes twinkling in surprise.
“Could it be anything else?” If it hadn’t been for cream puffs, I would never have bid on her. We wouldn’t be sitting opposite each other right now—a possibility that became more distasteful to me with every passing minute. Thank God for cream puffs.
“Wait, are these chocolate-covered raisins? How did you know these are my favorite?” She looked up at me, wonder in her sea green eyes as if I’d just pulled a bunny from a hat.
“I pay attention,” I said.
“Do you have cameras in my place? Was that the reason you came to my flat yesterday?” She was smiling but I could tell she wanted an answer.
“Like I said, I pay attention. Last night you were obviously having some me time, what with the pajamas and the mask—”
She groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
“You had a bowl of chocolate-covered raisins set up next to the sofa, so I figured you liked them. And I know you like cream puffs. They look good on you.”
She smiled so wide, I felt it deep in my gut. “You want me to stick one on my shirt?”
I chuckled. “As long as I get to watch you eat one, I’m good.” The way she’d just casually taken a bite out of the puff when the tray landed on her had been adorably sexy, but apparently adorably sexy was her default mode—cream puff or no cream puff.
“So, you pay attention, huh?”
“More than most people, I think. Observation often provides more information—and certainly more accurate information—than asking questions.”
She nodded slowly as if she was a little unsure what else she might have given away.
She raised the cream puff to her lips and took a large bite. Inadvertently she daubed a dollop of cream on her nose. I was more than a little disappointed when she wiped it off with the back of her hand. I might have liked to see her try to get at it with her tongue.
“We both know I don’t need to impress your father, but just for kicks, tell me more about the marriage of convenience you were going to propose.”
I liked watching her talk, and what she said told me so much about who she was. She laid it all out there like a red carpet, enticing me to step inside and learn more.
“For kicks?”
“Like I said, I owe your father my career. I’m not about to trick him out of twenty-five million pounds.”
“It’s not his money,” she snapped.
It might not be Arthur’s money, but I wasn’t about to lie to him about wanting to marry his daughter. No way. “Humor me,” I said, wanting to hear her vision for what she thought this game would look like. “Tell me what you were thinking.”
She held my gaze while she stuffed a mouthful of cream puff between her lips, chewed and swallowed.
Sexy. In everything she did.
“The rules of the trust say I need to be married for ninety days before the funds are released—hence I can’t just marry someone for the weekend. I have to satisfy my dad and the other trustee that it’s a real marriage. That’s my plan.”
“Prenups in place?”
“Postnups, otherwise they’re not enforceable in the UK. We’d negotiate them before, sign them after.”
I nodded. “Right. So you need to find someone you can trust, or they could not sign the papers after you’re married and claim half of your trust fund.”
She sighed. “Right. I’m hoping if they’re trying to impress my dad, they’ll play by the rules.”
“Except they might not need to impress him with half your trust fund in their back pocket.” There were some very unscrupulous people around that would say anything Parker wanted to hear if it meant they got their hands on that kind of money.
Her shoulders sank. “Yeah. You’re right. I need someone I can trust.”
“Okay, and what else? You’ll have a big wedding? Buy a house together? A dog?” I asked, genuinely intrigued about her plan.
“We’d have to have a wedding. It’s got to look legit for at least ninety days. But there’s no point in buying a house for three months. Maybe he could move in with me?” She shook her head. “Not that it matters. I’ve not got anyone in mind now I know you’re not interested.”
I wasn’t interested. Not that I had a problem marrying someone who needed access to their trust fund. It wasn’t like I believed in the sanctity of marriage or anything like that. I just liked and respected Arthur too much to lie to him.
“What about sex?” I asked. I leaned back in my chair and enjoyed the blush that swept up her cheeks.
“No sex required.”
“And here I was just thinking I might be changing my mind.”
She picked out a chocolate-covered raisin and launched it at me. “No you weren’t.”
I chuckled. “No, I wasn’t. You wouldn’t tell anyone it’s all fake?”
She winced. “I wouldn’t be able to. I couldn’t risk my father finding out.” She paused. “You’d know. And my best friend. But apart from that, I’d keep it a secret.”
I liked the idea of us having a secret.
“I guess that means there’s no second date,” I said. “Given I’ve turned down your marriage proposal.”
She laughed. “I guess not. Unless I get a ring at the end of a first date, I never say yes to a second.”
That was a shame. Parker was the first woman in a long time who had genuinely intrigued me.
Maybe it was the cow-print pajamas; maybe it was the marriage proposal.
Maybe it was her sea-green eyes and semi-permanent half-scowl.
Whatever it was, I would have liked to see her again.
And if she hadn’t been Arthur’s daughter, I might just have married her.