Authors: Gina Gordon
Naked (42 page)
“Archer, if I remembered, do you think I’d be freaking out?”
He turned, looking at her over his shoulder. “You don’t seem like you’re freaking out that much.” He winked. “I think you like the idea of being married to me.”
She huffed. “I don’t even want to get married.”
“You don’t want a husband, kids?” He looked at her as he stood, like she’d grown three heads. The pale, white skin of his ass stared right at her. “You don’t want a family?”
She shook her head, unable to get out any words because he was now walking around the room, his erection strong and protruding. She’d already had it inside her body, that much was obvious, since her head wasn’t the only part of her body aching. But she didn’t remember it. Didn’t remember the thick vein that ran up the middle. Didn’t remember how perfectly round and tight his balls were.
“Earth to Charlotte?”
She froze.
Busted.
“You like what you see?” He smirked.
She kicked her feet inside the covers trying to get them free so she could face him on equal footing. She needed answers. Right this damn minute.
She stood, despite the pounding in her head, which made his chipper mood this morning all the more annoying, and wrapped the blue sheet around her body.
“Please tell me how we ended up married.” She grabbed the water, the clink of her ring causing her stomach to roil, and downed the two aspirin with a huge swallow.
“At the memorial we were…disclosing our deep, dark secrets.” He’d put his boxer briefs on—black with a white band and the words Under Armour spelled out in black, block letters.
“I don’t have any deep, dark secrets.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
He slid his big hand down his chest to his stomach and smiled, the traitorous anatomy between her legs quivered in response.
Damn you, girl parts. Stop reacting.
“You sure about that?” That smile did nothing to calm her insides, but she tamped it down.
She most definitely had secrets. For the past few months, she’d been doing crazy, stupid things.
Like dancing in a cage at a nightclub.
Like jumping out of a plane.
Like paying a male escort to thoroughly screw her brains out.
He’d been well worth the five hundred dollars, for the record.
Something had snapped the day she’d found out her boss had passed away. Old Charlotte’s response to everything was “Oh, I couldn’t possibly.” New Charlotte, well, she’d gone to the extreme. Now, whenever presented with an opportunity, she said, “Why the hell not?”
She’d lived her entire life with her head down. And for the first time in her life, she was looking straight ahead with eyes wide open. It had all seemed to be working out fine, until this morning.
She sighed, looking across the room into those dreamy eyes. Damn it, he was the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on. But beautiful or not, she needed answers.
“Please be serious. What happened last night?”
“You agreed to marry me in exchange for five thousand dollars.” He shrugged on a shirt, squeezing into the tiny bathroom where she heard him turn on the sink and start brushing his teeth.
What?
“What do I need…?” Her words trailed off. Five thousand dollars was the exact dollar figure she needed to reach her cushion. The amount she needed in order to quit her job as assistant to the CEO of Arch Media and finally move forward with starting her own event planning business. She’d made a plan, and wouldn’t deviate for a penny less.
“I could have just kept working. Why would I agree?” This didn’t make any sense. She couldn’t have been that drunk that she’d forgotten her plan.
He reappeared, wiping his mouth with a small, white towel. “Well, I felt the need to offer you something considering my stepmother is going to fire you as soon as she figures out we’re married.”
She couldn’t get fired. She’d never been less than one hundred percent professional every day. She thrived on perfection, on organization and efficiency. She’d been working since she was fifteen years old and all it took was one night with frat boy and she’d ruined her reputation.
But there was more to this story, more than her five-thousand-dollar payday.
She flopped back onto the bed, pulling the covers closer to her body. “Why do you need a wife?”
His abs rippled as he bent to step into his jeans, pulling them up his long, lean legs. “I need a way to prove to the shareholders that I’m serious. My step monster wants to sell and I can’t let my father’s life’s work be stripped apart.”
Some things were coming back to her. His stepmother had been named interim CEO and given shares in the company.
“I don’t have the majority of shares. If I can prove to the other shareholders I’m settled, I can get them on my side and they won’t agree to sell. I need at least one more shareholder, and I will do whatever it takes. I don’t want to run the company, but I can’t stand by and watch it sold off piece by piece.”
Archer had waltzed into her life arrogant, entitled, but unrealistically and irrevocably the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on.
And she hated him for it.
But this sudden loyalty, this unexpected drive to do right by his father made him even sexier.
And she hated him for that even more.
“For the record, you’d agreed to go along with this before I offered you any money.” He was so casual about this entire situation. As if they hadn’t just made a major life decision so carelessly.
To Archer, everything was a party. Every woman was a good time. And to him, this was a good time.
“And you think showing up for Sunday dinner with a wife is going to convince people?” Her voice was a good three octaves higher than normal. Any higher and she’d be shrieking.
“It’s worth a shot.”
She shot up from the bed. “You’re insane. I’m insane. Clearly this marriage is not legal. Who the hell would marry us? There is no way we could have faked being sober.”
As if she’d offended him, he stood tall, his feet shoulder-width apart, crossing his arms over his wide chest. “The King is a professional.”
Of course. We’d gotten married by Elvis.
“And how long do we have to stay married?” She lowered to the bed again, giving him her back.
“Just a few months, then we’ll say it didn’t work out and we’ll file for an annulment and—”
“Oh, God. This isn’t happening.” She let her face fall into her hands. She didn’t want to listen to any more.
“Do you think this is easy for me? I’m married to the most uptight person I know.”
And that was exactly why a girl like her would never end up with a guy like Archer. Even with her newfound motto, Charlotte would never be sexy enough, wild enough, cool enough, to deserve a spot on his arm.
“So you really don’t remember…”
She looked over her shoulder to find him gesturing to the bed, sliding one finger through a hole he’d made with his other hand. “What are you, twelve? And no…I don’t remember.”
Learning she’d just had sex with Archer gave her conflicted emotions. For one, she was horrified that she’d put out so easily. More important, she was mad as hell that she couldn’t remember. She’d fantasized often enough.
But he was almost thirty years old and
still
hadn’t grown up. He was the complete opposite of what she was looking for…if she ever started looking for it.
“Too bad. We almost went through that box.”
“What?” Charlotte reached out and grabbed the box of condoms. In fact there were only five left.
He flopped into the armchair by the television. The old, flowered fabric and the puke-colored carpet, not to mention the painted ceiling, gave away that they weren’t at the Wynne. Considering he had all the money in the world, she half expected to be in a penthouse suite with a butler.
Not that she needed a butler.
“So what exactly do I have to do as your wife?”
How could she even entertain the idea of this?
“I’ll need your help trying to get a sense of the company, gauge the other shareholders. I need the inside scoop. Other than that, you’re free to do whatever you like. Start your event planning business, maybe?”
She slumped back against the mattress. “You know about that?”
He answered with a hum.
“That’s all you want from me?” She turned her head, peeking over at him. “Are you going to want to…?” When he didn’t respond, she huffed out a breath and reached out for the purple box. “Are you going to want to finish this box?”
The asshole laughed. “I knew what you meant. I just wanted you to say it out loud.”
She threw the box at him and he caught it against his chest, but she couldn’t help laughing along with him.
“I think it’s best if we just keep this a business transaction.” He stood once again, this time going to the desk and opening up a bottle of water. “Last night can be the exception.”
His answer wasn’t what she’d been expecting. If she was honest, she wanted him to want her. Despite her timidness, despite knowing she was far from what any man would consider sexy, a small part of her wanted him to make sex part of the deal.
But she knew he was right. Last night had definitely been an exception.
She curled up against the headboard, resting her chin on her knees, staring at him as he took his place once again in the chair. He stared right back, taking in every inch of her body, covered up by the sheet or not. It was unsettling. And sexy. And unnerving. Never had a man made her feel so many things all at once. But he wasn’t just any man. He was her husband. And because of him, she was finally in the position to get her business off the ground. If she had to be married to him in order to do so…
“All right,” she grumbled.
Why the hell not?
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