One Season Collection

Then they’d evaluate. They could continue to visit Aunt Louise and make excuses as to why they hadn’t yet married. Or they could tell fibs about a lavish wedding that would take an entire year to plan.

“Or,” he continued, “especially if you were to meet someone else and need to be free, we could call off the engagement. Aunt Louise would be settled into her island life of leisure. By that point there would not be any danger of her wanting to return to frigid Boston and the working grind.”

“And what if you were the one to meet someone?” she clipped, pretending to advocate a deal for herself.

“Impossible!” he spat immediately. “I will never marry.”

His harshness hit her like a slap in the face.

Or perhaps it was a warning.

“I see,” she assured him, and knew she’d understood his underlying message.

“Therefore, when we split up, you will own this apartment outright—which you can either keep, lease or sell. And the engagement ring. And whatever clothing and jewels have been purchased. Your brother’s position will be secure. We can also agree on a monetary settlement. In exchange for very little labor on your part, I can provide you with a lifetime of comfort and luxury.”

Game over.

Enough was enough.

Even if it could be as simple as he made it sound she had come to New York to get her own life straightened out. Not to get tangled up in someone else’s.

“Ethan, I appreciate the offer. And I think it’s great that you’ve done so much planning on this. It shows how much you care about your aunt. But this is not for me.”

He swallowed hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. His jaw tightened.

Was he upset?

Of course. This was a man who was used to getting everything he wanted. It wasn’t personal. She was a mere obstacle for him to overcome in order to reach his goal.

Ethan tapped his tablet. “Holly Motta dot com—is that it?”

She nodded, yes. What was he up to?

He typed.

“Huh...” His thumb slid through what she assumed to be her website’s gallery. “Huh...”

What was he thinking? She took great pride in her work. Suddenly it mattered to her what he thought of it. Which was silly, because his opinion was of no concern to her at all. Yet she sat on the edge of the chair, spine held stiff as she waited for a comment.

His thumb continued to swipe the tablet.

“Hmm...” His next sound was at a higher pitch than the one before. It sounded like approval.

“Why are you looking at my website?”

Ethan ignored the question and continued. His finger slid less frequently. He was spending more time on each piece of work.

Holly imagined what it might feel like to have that thumb slide across her cheek instead of the tablet screen. Or slowly down the center of her chest. That thumb and its nine partners on those two big hands looked as if they’d always know exactly what to do.

More fantasy. She hadn’t been touched in a long, long time.

Finally Ethan looked from the screen to her. “These are extraordinary.”

“Thank you,” she breathed with gratification—and relief.

He raised a finger in the air again. “Perhaps we can negotiate a merger that would be satisfying to both of us.”

She squished her eyebrows.

“In exchange for you posing as my fiancée, as I have outlined, you will be financially compensated and you will become legal owner of this apartment and any items such as clothes and jewels that have been purchased for this position. Your brother’s career will not be impacted negatively should our work together come to an end. And...” He paused for emphasis.

Holly leaned forward in her chair, her back still board-straight.

“I have a five-building development under construction in Chelsea. There will be furnished apartments, office lofts and common space lobbies—all in need of artwork. I will commission you for the project.”

Holly’s lungs emptied. A commission for a big corporate project. That was exactly what she’d hoped she’d find in New York. A chance to have her work seen by thousands of people. The kind of exposure that could lead from one job to the next and to a sustained and successful career.

This was all too much. Fantastic, frightening, impossible... Obviously getting involved in any way with Ethan Benton was a terrible idea. She’d be beholden to him. Serving another person’s agenda again. Just what she’d come to New York to get away from.

But this could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. An apartment. A job. It sounded as if he was open to most any demand she could come up with. She really did owe it to herself to contemplate this opportunity.

Her brain was no longer operating normally. The clock on Ethan’s desk reminded her that it was after midnight. She’d left Fort Pierce early that morning.

“That really is an incredible offer...” She exhaled. “But I’m too tired to think straight. I’m going to need to sleep on it.”

“As you wish.”

Holly moved to collect the luggage she’d arrived with. Ethan beat her to it and hoisted the duffel bag over his shoulder. He wrenched the handle of the suitcase. Its wheels tottered as fast as her mind whirled as she followed him to the bedroom.

“Good night, then.” He placed the bags just inside the doorway and couldn’t get out of the room fast enough.

Before closing the door she poked her head out and called, “Ethan Benton, you don’t play fair.”

Over his shoulder, he turned his face back toward her. “I told you. I always get what I want.”

Holly shut the door with her bare foot and leaned back against it. She pursed her lips together to keep from screaming. Her heart thumped so loud she was sure Ethan would hear it in the other room. Goodness gracious.

Ethan Benton and his proposition were quite simply the most exciting things that had ever happened to her!

A rush went through her as she recalled that devilish grin creeping slowly up his mouth. Those deep brown eyes that had stayed glued on her, assuring her he was listening to her when she spoke.

Holly hadn’t talked and listened as much as she had tonight in a long time. She hadn’t dated anyone since leaving Ricky the Rat two years ago. With her in Fort Pierce and Vince a two-hour drive away in Miami, she usually saw her brother twice a month. There was a girls’ night here and there with friends. That was about it.

She hadn’t really thought about it, but now when she did she realized she led a fairly solitary existence. Hopefully New York would jostle that, along with everything else.

But the change wasn’t going to come by stepping into Ethan Benton’s life. Although it might be the most fun she’d ever have. A jet-set world she’d only read about in magazines... Who wouldn’t want to dash off to Barbados for long weekends? To walk on pink sand with her toes in sparkling blue water. Attend glitzy parties...throw some of her own. Buy clothes without looking at the price tag. Never worry about where the rent or her next meal was coming from. Have the best of everything.

It would be amazing—even if it was only for a short time—to be completely taken care of. After all those years of putting other people ahead of her.

Which reminded her of how this deal could benefit her brother. Becoming part of the Benton family, even in name only, might help him further his career in a way he’d never have the chance to otherwise. He’d get to spend more time with Ethan and Louise. They’d see up close how capable and special he was.

No. This wasn’t about Vince. He’d be fine on his own. He was a grown man and his career was underway.

It was time for her future to begin. Period. In the morning she would tell Ethan no.

Besides, once he heard that she had already been married and divorced he wouldn’t think she was an appropriate choice for his game.

Right now, she needed to get some sleep.

She stopped short at the sight of the room’s king-size bed. This was where Ethan Benton had been planning to lay that tall, sturdy frame of his tonight. A wiggle shot up her spine at the mental image of him stretched out on this bed. Perhaps only wearing the plaid pajama bottoms as when she’d first seen him on the sofa.

On the bed she counted one, two...eight plush pillows, overlapped in a tidy row against the brown leather headboard. She imagined Ethan’s head against those pillows, with that curl of hair tousled on his forehead.

The luxury pillowcases alternated in color, tan then black. Which coordinated with the tightly fitted tan sheets. She ran a finger along the black duvet, tracing it down the right side of the bed. Then across the bottom. Then up the left. It was all too matchy-matchy for her tastes, but clearly made of expensive fabrics.

She eyed the wall-to-wall closet. If she took Ethan up on his proposal it would become filled with designer gowns for glamorous black tie dinners. Trendy separates for groundbreaking ceremonies. Classic sportswear for sailing jaunts and tennis tournaments. The finest shoes and purses and jewels.

None of that was her. She couldn’t picture it. Not even for make-believe.

Back on earth, Holly didn’t know whether she should unpack her suitcase full of jeans, comfortable skirts and tee shirts. She slid the blond wood closet door open to see if anything was inside.

Four men’s suits hung neatly on wooden hangers, with breathing room in between each. Dark gray, light gray, navy pinstripe and a beautiful maroon. They looked to be Ethan’s size. He’d probably look especially handsome in that maroon. It would go well with his brown eyes and that brown hair with its speckles of red.

There were freshly laundered shirts. Complementary ties. Polished shoes. A tuxedo and its accessories. Two pairs of pressed jeans. A pair of casual boots. She resisted the temptation to open any drawers. She had seen an overcoat and a leather jacket on the coat rack by the front door.

It wasn’t a large wardrobe. Ethan had said he traveled a lot, but hadn’t mentioned how long he was staying in New York.

She fingered the lapel of the maroon suit jacket. Ricky the Rat had only owned one wrinkly black suit. She could count on one hand the times he’d worn it. He was the jeans and workboots type. There were times she’d thought he was sexy.

One of the times he hadn’t been sexy was when she’d come home from work early one day and the workboots were all he’d had on. While he was in bed with their neighbor Kiki.

The rain was heavier outside now. Holly watched the bedroom window being pounded with sheets of the downpour. A rumble of thunder emphasized the storm’s strength. Good. Let it wash away her past.

Deciding to leave her suitcase on the floor for the night, she pulled back the duvet on the bed and climbed into the king-size reminder of the man who was already making her feel as if she were spiraling away from her old life. Even though her encounter with him would come to an end in the morning, her transition to something new had begun.

The bed was divine. The mattress firm. The sheets crisp. She pulled the thick cover over her. Beyond comfortable, she nestled in the oasis, away from cares and plans. It was a peaceful heaven on earth after such a long day. Time to rest her body and mind. She was going to sleep like a log...

Two hours later Holly tossed and turned with exasperation. She hadn’t kept her eyes shut for more than a minute before her brain had assaulted her with more and more opinions.

What Ethan was proposing could be her lucky break. A commission to do the artwork for his big development in Chelsea... A chance to really get started in New York...

She’d come to the city armed with work references, but the life of an artist could be tricky. Maybe nothing would pan out from the names and phone numbers she’d collected. Or she’d get small jobs here and there but they might not lead to anything else.

Ethan’s proposition was a multi-phase project that would probably be six months of work at least. In that time she could really put down roots here.

She was determined to make her entire living as an artist. Not to have to work anymore as a maid or a nanny during the lean times. Her goals were clear. New York was the place where dreams were made or broken. If it didn’t work out here, so be it—but she was certainly going to take her shot.

Imagine how much easier it would be without any astronomical rent to pay. New York apartment prices were notoriously high. Holly knew that she would probably have to live with a roommate. Maybe several of them. Some might have come to New York for the twenty-four-hour-a-day lifestyle, for the party that never ended. The household might be full of noise and people and activity at all hours of the day and night. It might prevent Holly from getting her work done or resting when she needed to.

Or she might end up with people who were slobs. Not able to tolerate a dirty mess, she would end up cleaning up after them. Cleaning up after people—how much of her life had she already spent doing that? She’d never minded taking care of her brother, but her ex-husband hadn’t ever seemed even to know where the trash can or the washing machine were. Nor had her mother.

Maybe these roommate slobs wouldn’t pay their share of their rent and she’d get evicted. She might end up having to move from place to place through no fault of her own. That would be maddening.

Ethan was offering work and a place to live. This tasteful apartment all to herself. It was one thing to be allowed to stay here while she looked for a place. It was quite another to have it belong to her. She could paint here. Reposition the furniture in the living room to make the most of the natural light.

Wait a minute.

Part of Ethan’s bargain was that he would pay her. She would be able to afford to rent studio space. A New York artist with her own studio... If that wasn’t a dream come true!

But on the other hand...

And she needed to consider...

She couldn’t really...

And then what...?

When Holly opened her eyes, a drizzly morning sky crept in through the window. At some point she had finally dozed off, her mind twirling about the past and what the future could hold. Now, with morning’s dawn in Ethan Benton’s bedroom, certainty hit her like a ton of bricks.

If something seemed too good to be true, it was.

Not cut out to be anyone’s pretend anything, Holly was only who she was. Ethan was kidding himself. It could only end in disaster. She would do him a favor by acknowledging the impossibility of his proposal, even though he wasn’t able to see it for himself.

His judgment was clouded by his deep love for his aunt Louise. How touching was his concern for her welfare, for her reputation and her happiness. Blood ran thick. A good man took his family responsibilities seriously...

She had to call her brother. She wouldn’t tell him about Ethan’s offer. But she did need his help sorting out this confusion about her staying in the apartment. It would be good to hear his voice. In the end, he was the only one she really had in her corner.

He’d be working out in the garage of the little house he rented in Miami. Lifting weights. Bench pressing and hoisting dumbbells before showering and getting to work at Benton.

“Vinz.” She pictured him, no doubt in a muscle shirt drenched in sweat. His close-cropped blond hair so unlike her black. The round blue eyes marking him as her kin.

“Holz! How’s the Big Apple so far?”

She explained the mix-up with the apartment.

Vince promised to make some calls as soon as he got into the office. “I’ll get it fixed,” he assured her.

“I don’t know if you can.”

“Listen to me, big sis. We’re going to sniff out opportunities for you and you’re going take them. You’ll grab everything that’s thrown your way.”

“Yeah.”

“Remember—straight up or fall down!” He chanted their lifelong rally call—the desperate bravado of two kids with no one but each other to root for them.

After hanging up, Holly held the phone in her hand and stared absently out the window for a while. Thick clouds in the sky moved horizontally across her vision.

There had always been rainy days. No one knew how many more were ahead. It would be such a gift to have an umbrella.

Finally she tossed the phone onto the bed and opened the door.

Ethan was in the kitchen. She watched him start a pot of coffee before he noticed she was there. When he did, she leaned against the doorway. Her hair was probably a mess. Surely she had bags under her eyes from her fitful night. She lifted her hand and looked at her fingers with their perpetual paint around the cuticles and under the nails. She was who she was.

“Okay, Ethan. I’ll marry you.”

CHAPTER FOUR

SHE SAID YES! Ethan wanted to shout it from the rooftops. She said yes!

His blood coursed. His muscles tingled.

She said yes!

And then he caught himself. Good heavens. There was no cause for fireworks to be launched from his heart. There was no reason to announce his undying devotion in front of the citizens of Manhattan. He was not a giddy groom filled with bliss and anticipation.

A woman he’d met yesterday had agreed to a jointly beneficial contract. He signed deals every day. This was just another one.

With a flick on the switch of the coffeepot he shook his head, trying to dislodge the obvious cobwebs in his skull.

He’d gotten a bit carried away.

Truthfully, he hadn’t been alone with a woman in a long time—and certainly not in the close quarters of a small apartment. Perhaps that had stirred up a primal reaction in him. While the mating ritual wasn’t part of his daily life, it was a natural phenomenon.

Although Ethan employed thousands of women in all aspects of his business, he shunned intimate social situations with them as much as possible. Keeping a clear and level head was what he did best. Women were distracting. Distractions were to be avoided. Problem—solution.

This was the first lesson he needed in order to carry off his plan. He was going to be spending a lot of time with an attractive woman. He’d need to guard and defend himself against her feminine charms. It wasn’t personal. It didn’t matter whether it was Holly, pregnant Penelope Perkins or another actress he’d picked from a photograph.

In three measured breaths, with his face toward the coffeepot, he set his focus. Guard and defend.

Then he turned to Holly, still standing in the doorway. Dark cascades of hair fell around her pretty face, which had a just-woken flush in her cheeks. Her tee shirt was definitely not concealing a bra.

Involuntarily, his body began to lean toward hers. A kiss pushed forward from his lips.

Guard and defend!

In the nick of time, he pulled himself back. Her allure was something he’d need to get accustomed to. His body’s involuntary response to her worried him...told him that might be difficult.

But he would be triumphant. For the sake of Aunt Louise he could conquer anything.

Ethan directed himself to talk, since he couldn’t kiss. “How did you sleep?”

“Great,” she lied.

Her eyes looked tired. He hadn’t got much sleep, either. He was far too tall to stretch out comfortably on that sofa. Plus, his mind had taunted him with replays of the evening.

“That coffee smells good,” she said as she massaged the back of her neck.

“It does. How do you take it?”

“Lots of milk or cream. No sugar.”

Ethan opened one of the cabinets to look for cups. It held only drinking glasses. He hadn’t spent enough time in this apartment to know where everything was kept. His second try yielded large white mugs. Setting them on the black granite countertop, he poured the steaming coffee.

The kitchen was Manhattan Minimal. Pint-size efficiency. Cabinets, sink and dishwasher on one side. Stove and refrigerator on the other. A one-person kitchen. Too cramped for two people to work in.

Which was why when Holly stepped in to open the fridge he felt her hips brush past him. In turn, his hips reacted of their own volition—which, fortunately, she didn’t notice.

“What are we eating for breakfast?’ she asked as she peered into the refrigerator.

“What do we have?” He’d only had bottles of water when he’d got in yesterday, and beer last night with the pizza.

“Eggs, butter and cheese. And the bread and fruit.” She pointed to the baskets on the counter. “We can work with this.”

The way she said we made Ethan’s ears prick up. He wasn’t used to we. He’d worked very hard at avoiding we. This was no time to start. Although for the first time he was curious about we. He reasoned that this fake engagement was a perfect way of safely pretending to experience we, with both parties knowing fully well that the truth was me and me achieving individual goals.

Right. However, now it felt somewhat confusing.

Holly pulled the carton of milk out of the fridge and handed it to him. Ethan was keenly aware of their fingertips touching during the exchange.

She laid ingredients on the counter. “How does cheese omelets, toasted bagels and sliced fruit sound?”

“What do you generally eat for breakfast?”

Holly giggled. A bit of blush rose in her cheeks. How adorable. “Was that a get-to-know-each-other question?”

“It was. If we are going to be convincing as an engaged couple, we have to know those sorts of things about each other.”

He handed her a mug. She took a slow sip and exhaled her satisfaction.

“You put the perfect amount of milk in my cup, so we must be off to a good start.”

Ethan felt ridiculously proud that she liked her coffee.

“How do you take yours?” she went up.

“Also without sugar. But not as much milk.”

“I’ll eat anything...” She went back to his question. “If we hadn’t polished off that pizza, that’s great cold in the morning.”

“Cold pizza? Noted.”

“Do you know how to cook?”

“I could probably manage to broil a steak without ruining it.”

“Eggs?”

“Not really,” he confessed.

“Today you learn, then.”

“Is that so?”

“I’ll put on a show for your aunt Louise, but surely you don’t think I’m going to be cooking and cleaning for you.” Her face stilled in a moment of earnest uncertainty. “Do you?”

“Of course not, phony fiancée.”

“It’s just that I’ve done plenty of taking care of people in my life. I just want to take care of myself.”

Holly had been through a lot. He’d been able to tell that about her from the start—had seen it right through her spunky attitude. She was no fresh-faced hopeful, arriving in New York full of delusions and fantasies. There was a past. A past that he suspected included hardship and pain.

Another one of those innate urges told him to wrap his arms around her and promise that he’d make up for all her hurts. That now she would be the one taken care of. That he’d quite like to make it his life’s mission to take care of her in every possible way.

Once again he had to chastise himself sternly. He had merely hired her to perform a service. For which she would be paid very well. With that opportunity she would be able to find whatever she’d come to New York to get. She didn’t need him.

The agony of that shocked him. A reminder to guard and defend.

Holly handed him the carton of eggs. She gave him a bowl. “Four.”

Finding a cutting board and a knife, Holly sliced cheese while Ethan cracked eggs. They stood side by side at their tasks, each dependent on the other in order to get the job done. Ethan appreciated teamwork. That was what made Benton Worldwide, and every other successful venture work. It must be the same in a marriage.

Two bagels were halved and popped into the toaster.

“Frying pan?” she mused to herself, and quickly moved to his other side to find one.