A Very Exclusive Engagement

“The perfect age. Your father married when he was twenty-eight, as did your grandfather. You’re out of school, well established. You’ll be a prize to whatever lucky woman you choose.”

“Aunt Beatrice, I’m not ready to——”

“You will marry within the year,” she said, her serious tone like a royal decree he didn’t dare contradict. “On your one-year wedding anniversary, as a gift I will give you my shares of ANS stock and name you my sole beneficiary. Then you can truly breathe easy knowing your network is secure, and I can know this family will be cared for when I’m gone.”

She couldn’t be serious. “You can’t force me to marry.”

“You’re right. You’re a grown man and you make your own decisions. So the choice is entirely yours. Either you marry and get the company you want and more money than most people dream of…or you don’t and I sell my shares to Ron Wheeler. Tough choice, I understand.” At that, she returned to her soup as though they’d been discussing the weather.

Liam didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t used to anyone else calling the shots in his life. But he’d given himself a vulnerability she had been waiting to exploit. She’d probably planned this from the very moment he’d come to her about buying ANS. Liam leaned his head into his hand and closed his eyes.

“If you don’t know any suitable ladies, I can make a few recommendations.”

He was sure she’d just love that, too. Thankfully she’d stopped short of deciding who he should marry. “I think I can handle that part, thank you. I’ve been seeing someone,” he said quickly, hoping she didn’t ask for more details about the fictional woman.

Aunt Beatrice shrugged off the bitter tone in his voice. “Then it’s time the two of you got more serious. Just remember, you have a year from today to marry. But if I were you, I wouldn’t dawdle. The sooner you get married, the sooner ANS will be yours.”

Francesca had deliberately avoided Liam since they’d returned to D.C., but she couldn’t put off speaking to him any longer. She needed to know if they were going to be sponsoring the Youth in Crisis gala or not. It was a week and a half away. It was already too late to pull out, really, but if he was going to insist they couldn’t do it, she needed to know now.

She waved as she passed his assistant’s desk. “Afternoon, Jessica.”

The woman looked up at her with a wary expression. “You don’t want to go in there.”

Francesca frowned. Did she mean her specifically, or anyone? Liam couldn’t still be mad about the whole elevator thing. Could he? “Why?”

“He’s been in a foul mood since we left New York. I’m not sure what happened. Something with his family, I think.”

“Is everyone okay?”

Jessica nodded her head. “He hasn’t had me send flowers to anyone, so I would assume so. But he’s not taking calls. He’s been sitting at his desk all morning flipping through his address book and muttering to himself.”

Interesting. “Well, I hate to do it, but I have to speak with him.”

“As you wish.” Jessica pressed the intercom button that linked to Liam’s phone. “Mr. Crowe, Ms. Orr is here to see you.”

“Not now,” his voice barked over the line. Then, after a brief pause, he said, “Never mind. Send her in.”

Jessica shrugged. “I don’t know what that’s all about, but go on in.”

Francesca gripped the handle to his office door and took a deep breath before going inside. She’d dressed in her most impressive power suit today and felt confident she would leave his office with what she wanted. The emerald-green pantsuit was striking and well-tailored. Her black hair was twisted up into a bun, and she had a silk scarf tied around her neck. Not only did she feel good in the outfit, she felt well-covered. Liam had already seen too much of her body. She intended to keep every inch out of his sight from now on.

As she opened the door, she saw Liam sitting at his desk just as Jessica had described. He was flipping through an address book, making notes on his desk blotter. As she came in he looked up and then slammed the book shut.

“Good morning, Ms. Orr.” His voice was a great deal more formal and polite than it was the last time they’d spoken. Of course, then they’d been recently naked together.

“Mr. Crowe. I wanted to speak to you about the Youth in Crisis gala. We don’t have much time to—”

“Have a seat, Francesca.”

She stopped short, surprised at his interruption. Unsure of what else to do, she moved to take a seat in the guest chair across from his desk. Before she could sit, he leaped up and pointed to the less formal sitting area on the other side of his office.

“Over here, please. I don’t like talking to people across the desk. It feels weird.”

Francesca corrected her course to sit in the plush gray leather chair he’d indicated. She watched him warily as he went to the small refrigerator built into the cabinets beside his desk.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“I don’t drink at work.”

Liam turned to her with a frown and a bottle of root beer in his hand. “At all? I have bottled water, root beer—my personal favorite—and some lemon-lime soda. I don’t drink at work, either, despite the fact that if anyone wanted to be in a drunken stupor right now, it would be me.” He pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge and handed it to her. “To replace the one we…used up in the elevator.”

Francesca started to reach for the bottle, then froze at the memory of water pouring over his head and onto her own bare chest. Damn, he’d said that on purpose to throw her off her game. Pulling herself together, she took the bottle and set it on the coffee table unopened.

Liam joined her, sitting on the nearby sofa with his bottle of root beer. “I have a proposition for you.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. “I told you that I wasn’t interested in dinner.”

Liam watched her intently with his jewel-blue eyes as he sipped his drink. “I’m not asking you to dinner. I’m asking you to marry me.”

Francesca was glad she hadn’t opted to drink that water or she would’ve spit it across the room. She sat bolt upright in her seat and glared at him. “Marry you? Are you crazy?”

“Shhh…” he said, placing his drink on the table. “I don’t want anyone to hear our discussion. This is very important. And I’m dead serious. I want you to be my fiancée. At least for a few months.”

“Why me? What is going on?”

Liam sighed. “I’ve put myself in a vulnerable position with the company. I couldn’t afford all of Graham Boyle’s stock, so my aunt owns the largest share of ANS, not me. She’s threatening to sell it to Ron Wheeler if I don’t get married within a year.”

Ron Wheeler. That was a name that could send chunks of ice running through her veins. Charity didn’t help the bottom line in his eyes. Francesca, her staff and the entire department would be out the door before the ink was dry on the sale. And they would just be the first, not the last to go if he were in charge. “Why would she do that?”

“She wants me married and settled down. She wants me to be the strong family patriarch when she’s gone and doesn’t believe my playboy ways are appropriate. I think she’s bluffing, really. I’m hoping that if I get engaged, that will be enough to soothe her. In the meantime, I’m going to work with my accountant and financial advisor to see if I can arrange for a line of credit large enough to buy her out. I have no expectation that we’ll actually have to get married.”

“I should hope not,” she snapped. Francesca had some very strong ideas about what a good marriage was made of and blackmail was not the ideal start. “Don’t you have anyone else you can ask? You’ve known me less than a week.”

Liam looked over to the book on his desk and shook his head. “I’ve gone through every woman’s name in my address book and there’s not a single suitable candidate. All those women would look at this as a romantic opportunity, not a business arrangement. That’s why you’re my ideal choice.”

A business arrangement? That’s just what a girl wanted to hear. “So if this is just a business arrangement, that means you have no intention of trying to get me into bed, right?”

Liam leaned closer to her and a wicked grin spread across his face. “I didn’t say that, but really, that’s not my first priority here. I’m asking you for several reasons. First, I like you. Spending time with you shouldn’t be a hardship. My aunt will expect the relationship to appear authentic and she’ll sniff out the truth if she thinks we’re faking it. After our time in the elevator, I think you and I have enough chemistry to make it realistic. And second, I know I can count on you because you want something from me.”

Francesca opened her mouth to argue with him and then stopped. She knew exactly where this was going. Tit for tat. “The Youth in Crisis gala?”

He nodded. “If Ron Wheeler gets a hold of this company, everything you’ve worked for will be destroyed. The only thing I can do to protect this company and its employees is to get engaged as soon as I can. For your assistance, I’m offering the full financial support of ANS for the Youth in Crisis charity ball. I’ll even pledge to top the highest private donation with my own money. I look at it as an investment in the future of the network. And all you have to do is wear a beautiful diamond ring and tolerate my company until my aunt backs down.”

It felt like a deal with the devil and there had to be a catch. “You said it had to appear authentic. Define authentic.”

Liam sat back in his seat and crossed his leg over his knee. “No one is going to follow us into the bedroom, Francesca, and I won’t make you do anything that you don’t want to do. But everything we can do to convince people we are a couple in love would be helpful.”

She shook her head and looked down at her lap. This was all so sudden. The idea of being Liam’s fiancée, even if just temporarily, wasn’t so bad. She’d be lying to herself if she said she hadn’t thought about their time in the elevator as she lay alone in bed each night. But his fiancée? Publicly? What would she tell her family? She couldn’t tell them the truth. And her friends? She would have to lie to everyone she knew.