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ALEXIS WAS INSTANTLY ANGRY on so many levels, she could barely respond. “Are you married, Dylan?”
“No.”
“Been married?”
“No.”
“Given birth?”
He leveled a look at her.
“Anyone given birth on your behalf?”
“Not that I am aware of.”
“So you really don’t know what’s at stake for women who have children? Things are very different for men and women.”
“No duh.”
“Ooh. Like the technical lawyer-speak, Dylan.”
“I’m not speaking as a lawyer. It’s against the rules.”
“Then what are you speaking as?”
“A friend.”
“I think not.” She’d been aiming for matter-of-fact, but had hit snippy.
He smiled. No grinned, damn it. “You’re still mad at me.”
“I am so over you.” She was. She was.
“You’re still mad. Yes, you are.” The grin widened. “I must be a better lover than I thought.”
Typical. “I’ve had worse,” she told him. “And I’ve had better. You’re somewhere in the middle. Average.” Honestly, never tell a man he was the worst lover you ever had, he wouldn’t believe it. But mediocre? Now that really got to him.
“And how does Vincent rank?”
She couldn’t believe he’d asked that. “You’re not the first to imply that Vincent must have selected me to be on his team because I slept with him, but you’re the most unexpected. That was unworthy of you, Dylan.”
He blinked. “I wasn’t impugning your legal skill.” Watching her carefully, he continued softly, “You’re marrying the guy.”
“Yes.”
“So it’s a safe assumption you’ve slept with him.”
They stared at each other and Alexis knew that she must not look away. Didn’t dare blink. She was good at this game. Her eyes were so dark people remarked on them. She used cosmetics to emphasize them and she practiced chilling expressions that revealed nothing.
However, eyes were one thing. The blush she was horrified to feel creeping up her throat was something else. She, who could bluff anyone, could not bluff Dylan.
She blinked.
And he pounced. “You’ve never slept with the guy.”
Alexis darted a look toward the doorway. How mortifying if Vincent or Margaret caught them discussing such a subject. “That—is—none—of—your—business.”
Dylan sat on the edge of the table. “But I’m fascinated by your logic—or the lack thereof. What the heck are you doing, Alexis?”
“I’m thinking with my head and not with my heart. ‘If more people thought with their heads instead of their hearts, we’d be out of a job.’ You said that.”
“I did. Go on.”
“Well,” she deliberately lowered her voice, injecting a sultry quality, “you know that first, wonderful rush of passion, when two people can’t get enough of each other, when they’re blind to anything else about each other as long as they can be entwined for hours and hours…?”
His eyes had darkened. Alexis thought he might even be drooling. He nodded and swallowed.
Deliberately breaking the mood, she sat back and threw up her hands. “It never lasts. And then you’re stuck with what’s left. And you look around and think, ‘Ick. I can’t live with that. What was I thinking?’ And then you realize you weren’t thinking. You were seduced by the sizzle. This time, I evaluated the rest of the man first. And he’s some man.” She gave Dylan her best seductive smile. “I’ll fire up the sizzle later. And you know I can.”
For a moment, she would have sworn that she had him, then he said, “Better make sure you’ve got some good wood.”
“Don’t be crude.”
“Hey, I’m just saying that if you want little sizzlers, you’re going to have to build the campfire with something.”
“And explain to me why you care about my campfire?”
He reached toward her and she thought he was going to touch her. She just stopped herself from flinching as he tapped the contract before her. “I want to know if successful career women selling themselves as high-priced wives is the new trend.”
“You’re being deliberately insulting.”
He eyed her speculatively. “I might be trying to shake you up and see if all your cylinders are firing.”
“Do you ever use plain English?”
“I thought the statement about selling yourself as a high-priced wife was pretty plain.”
“I look on it as protecting my future and the future of my children.”
“I’m listening.”
He was. And Alexis wanted to explain. “I want children and the thing is, a woman risks a lot careerwise these days. As soon as she’s visibly pregnant, she loses her edge. If she becomes angry, it’s hormones. Sad? Hormones. Aggressive? Hormones. So it’s ‘let’s not put too much pressure on the little mother.’ Give her the routine cases. Don’t let her start long-term litigation, because she’ll be taking maternity leave. And from then on, she’s on the mommy track, because she can’t work the long hours she has been because children get sick and she’ll have child-care problems. And guilt. Let’s not forget the guilt. I have seen it happen over and over again. For some reason, men don’t have these problems. He takes time off to meet with the kid’s teacher and he’s a caring and involved father. She takes time off and she’s allowing her children to interfere with her work. I don’t want to have to choose between my children and my career, so I’ll take time off in the beginning and go back to work when they’re older. The beauty of it is that I’ll pick up right where I left off. That’s what it says in the contract. My lovely, lovely contract. So don’t talk to me about throwing away my career. I’m preserving it.”
Dylan regarded her for a moment, then moved closer on the table until he was sitting right next to her, and then he stared at her some more.
She didn’t want him staring at her and she didn’t want him sitting next to her. He was too close. He made her too aware of him as a man, a man that, in spite of herself, she still wanted. After all this time, it wasn’t fair that her body would betray her this way.
Alexis looked down at her copy of the prenuptial agreement, flinching when Dylan nudged her chin upward with his knuckles. “You’re not in love with him.”
“How could you possibly know how I feel?”
His voice deepened. “Because I remember how you look when you think you’re in love.”
What a low blow. She had been in love. She’d thought Dylan was The One. “Someone once told me that there’re all kinds of love and not all of them come with a ring. This time, I get the ring.”
YEAH, HE’DSAIDTHAT, TOO. Had actually used it again, it was such a good line. But she was missing the point. Dylan indicated the contract. “That’s not a ring. It’s a noose.”
“I’m well aware of your feelings on marriage.”
He gave a huge mock sigh. “Alexis, Alexis, Alexis.”
“What?”
“This isn’t the same. Back then, we’d both worked very hard. And we were going to be working very hard. In different cities. Remember? You were staying in Austin and I was going to Houston.” An awful thought occurred to him. “You didn’t go with the Swinehart firm because it’s in—”
“Of course not.” She spoke with ego-deflating scorn.
“Marriage was impossible then. Neither of us was ready—” he hadn’t been ready “—and I figured you knew it. But you got serious all of a sudden.” Maybe he’d been naive, but he’d thought they could keep in touch as they began their careers. After all, it was what they’d worked for. What they’d talked about. What they’d wanted. Serious life commitments could come later.
“It wasn’t all of a sudden,” she snapped. “I was expecting something entirely different that afternoon. I thought you were going to propose.”
He’d long suspected as much. “I’m sorry. Truly I am. But if we’d stayed together then, we wouldn’t be together now. Not with both of us having the kind of careers we’ve had.”
She didn’t say anything and it irked him. “Marriage would have held you back. You know it’s true. Come on. Admit it.”
“Maybe it would have held you back.”
He just shook his head.
Crossing her arms over her chest, Alexis looked to the side. “You’re right. Happy now?”
He wasn’t. He wasn’t at all. Not because of the wrong timing for the two of them, but because his conscience was telling him she was making a big mistake now and he should stop her. Funny, he never remembered his conscience being this loud before. However, it still made a valid point. Marriage to him wasn’t right for her then, and marriage to Vincent wasn’t right for her now.
“Anyway, every relationship I’ve had since has fallen apart. So instead of basing a relationship solely on mutual attraction and hoping that everything else works out, Vincent and I are basing our marriage on affection, compatibility, respect and shared goals and interests. If we find passion, great. But passion fades. At least I know we’ve got something solid left.”
“Yeah. Over a hundred thousand solids each year.”
She gave him that blank look she was so good at. “You’re flirting with an ethics violation.”
They both knew he’d gone way beyond flirting. He tried for a lighter tone. “I thought I was flirting with you.”
“Your technique needs work.” She checked her watch. “Where are they? I’m supposed to meet with the hotel wedding coordinator.”
“Do you mind me asking what the hurry is?”
“I mind you asking on principle. But the truth is that I wanted to get married here and they had a last-minute cancellation. I could have the booking if I agreed to use all the bride’s choices. There’re too many dripping pearls and way too much netting, but other than tweaking the menu and canceling the karaoke machine, I can live with lilac and white.”
So. Alexis was using someone else’s wedding to marry Vincent. Could she be more unsentimental? Yes, Dylan did wish more of his clients thought with their heads instead of their hearts, but Alexis had carried it to the ultimate extreme.
“But can you live with this?” He picked up the contract and flipped through it. Folding it open to a section he’d hoped her lawyer would have flagged,he set the document in front of her.
She didn’t even glance down. “We’re not supposed to be negotiating the contract without my lawyer present.”
“We’re not negotiating. But due to the time constraints, I thought if there was language to which you objected, you could point it out and while I’m sitting here, I could get a start on making it more acceptable. It would save time.” He tried one of his soothing smiles, which of course, she didn’t buy.
“I would not dream of taking away any element of surprise that Margaret has planned.”
“You’re not supposed to be the one who’s surprised.” Dylan had begun to have doubts about Margaret. The clause in question could be interpreted as allowing Vincent to have mistresses in certain circumstances, the cost of which would be deducted from the payments due Alexis. Why hadn’t she or her lawyer caught that? Had her lawyer been raised in a convent? Clearly, the woman had no clue as to the devious workings of the male mind.
“What do you care?” Alexis asked him.
He…just did. He didn’t expect her to understand because he didn’t quite understand. “Because I don’t want to have to waste my time defending this thing in court when you realize what you’ve signed.”
And that pretty much violated a whole slew of the canon of ethics. He’d get a few moral points, though, not that they would do him any good if Alexis reported him. He didn’t think she would, but the fact that she could was bad enough.
As for Vincent finding out…Dylan would never practice law again.
“What do you mean?” she asked him.
He’d already said too much. “Look at it this way—you know what you’re getting out of the deal, but ask yourself—what’s Vincent getting?”
She gave him a slow, wide smile. “Me.”
WELL, SNAP HER GARTERS if that wasn’t the most impressive thing she’d ever heard in her life. And her death. A hundred thousand dollars a year. Sure, a dollar didn’t go as far now as it did during Sunshine’s life, but from everything Rosebud reported from reading newspapers, a hundred thousand dollars was alot during this life, too.
The dark-haired woman with the awful haircut had not only convinced the silver-haired fellow to marry her, he was paying for the privilege. Well done. Sunshine applauded her, though Alexis couldn’t hear her. It was always heartening to see a sister in sin make good. Women had certainly come a long way.
Sunshine sat on the back of the chair behind Dylan—nice Welsh name—and massaged his neck and shoulders. He wouldn’t feel anything more than a vague relaxed feeling, but Sunshine thought he deserved some relaxing, poor tense baby. The man had itchy pants for Alexis, sure enough, and Sunshine was just in the right spot to know.
But Alexis was way beyond him. Alexis was looking out for Alexis and Sunshine was all for that. From what she’d overheard, it appeared that Mr. Cutie Pie here had had his chance and failed to take advantage of it.
His loss. Besides, for all his squawking, had he made a counteroffer? Not that Sunshine had heard.
Well, Sunshine’s assignment was to make sure the bride and groom had no problems in the bedroom. Technically, it was to make sure they were happy and it was generally found that happiness in the bedroom meant happiness all around. However, bedroom or not, Sunshine was thinking she could be happy with a hundred thousand dollars a year.
DYLAN SAT ALONE in the conference and studied the magnificent view of the Rockies, which he appreciated not at all. What was the matter with him? Alexis had gone to her meeting and now Dylan waited for Vincent and Margaret to return. They all seemed very casual about this whole prenuptial agreement, which left him feeling unsettled. Squeamish. He rubbed at a tight spot just to the side of his neck and miraculously, it eased. Honestly, for all intents and purposes, this was a business merger and if the bride had been anyone else, Dylan would have applauded the match.
But the bride was Alexis.
ALEXIS LAY PRONE ON THE BED of a very quaintly decorated Victorian-style room, the charms of which were currently lost on her.
Alexis’s eyes were closed and she’d taken aspirin to get rid of a throbbing tension headache caused by attempting to appear competent, in control and extremely hot while having her ex negotiate her future. She’d like to see anyone try that and not get a headache.
So? Did Vincent know she’d once dated Dylan or not? She couldn’t tell.
She was long over Dylan. Yes, he was still attractive. No, she was not going to admit that the instant she’d walked into the conference room she’d remembered how his mouth had felt on hers. She wasn’t proud of that. This guy had dumped her. Didn’t she have more self-respect than to picture him naked the first time she saw him in seven years?
Dylan hadn’t been the first to break her heart and he hadn’t been the last, but was there any woman alive who wouldn’t want to make a man who’d once dumped her kick himself when he saw her again?
