Abigail Strom - The Millionaire's Wish

Allison frowned. “And pretending to date me is going to fix that somehow?”

“That’s the idea.” He remembered Gran’s exact words. “My grandmother wants me to date a woman of character. The minute I met you, I knew you fit the bill. So I’m proposing a business deal. An arrangement that would benefit us both.”

For someone who could be so transparent with her emotions, Allison could also put on a pretty good poker face. “What is it that you want? That you don’t want to lose?”

An image of Hunter Hall flashed into his mind. “A house.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I think you can afford to buy your own house.”

That made him smile. “Yeah, but not this one. It’s been in the family for more than a hundred years. Hunter Hall, it’s called.”

“And would your grandmother really sell your family estate? Just because she doesn’t like the women in your life?”

He hadn’t planned on going into this much detail. “Not exactly. She’s moving to the city this summer, and she was going to transfer ownership of Hunter Hall to me. But now she’s talking about giving the house to someone else—a second cousin. She wants a family to live in Hunter Hall. My cousin is married, and wants to have kids. So he says, anyway.”

“And you don’t want that? A family, I mean?”

His jaw tightened. He wasn’t husband or father material, but that wasn’t something he’d be discussing with Allison. “I’m happy as a bachelor and I intend to stay that way. Which is why I date … the women I date.”

“I see.” She was studying him thoughtfully, and her level, blue-eyed gaze was disconcerting.

She glanced down at the check for a moment, and then back up at him. “Look, I won’t lie to you. I’d love to accept this donation. But I don’t think—”

She was going to say no. He interrupted her before she could finish. “It’s just a few dinners and parties, Allison. What’s the big deal?”

“I’m not the only woman of character in Iowa. Couldn’t you—”

“You’re not attracted to me.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I said, you’re not attracted to me. That’s why you’re perfect.”

She frowned at him. “How do you know?”

He could have told her his lip gloss theory of female behavior, but it wasn’t just that. He’d had close to twenty years of dating experience; he knew when a woman was attracted to him.

“It’s true, isn’t it? And I’m not attracted to you.”

In actual point of fact, the more time he spent with her, the more attracted he felt. It was the reverse of what usually happened when he met a beautiful woman. Usually his attraction kicked off with a bang and went downhill from there.

But since he had no interest in dating her for real, it didn’t seem to matter—and he knew Allison would be more comfortable with the lie.

“Nothing personal,” he added when she raised her eyebrows, although she didn’t look insulted. “You’re just not my type. And that’s why this plan will work. I get Hunter Hall, your foundation gets half a million dollars—and when it’s all over, no one gets hurt.”

He leaned across the table toward her. “Say yes, Allison.”

The brief flash of intensity in his green eyes caught her off guard. It was like a weapon he could unleash without warning. Rick Hunter, she suspected, very seldom asked for anything he didn’t get.

She looked down at his check, that small rectangle of paper that for just a moment had made her so happy.

The money would mean so much to the foundation … would mean so much to the families she supported. But the fact was, she hadn’t been in a relationship since high school. The thought of changing that now—even if it was in name only—sent a nervous tremor through her.

“Listen … Rick.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t …”

He sat back again, the expression in his eyes more reserved now. “You’re seeing someone.”

The simplest thing would be to say yes. But Allison was naturally honest, and she found herself shaking her head. “No, I’m not seeing anyone. But—”

“But what?” That persuasive tone was back, the one she was sure served him well in business and his personal life.

She took a deep breath. “I don’t date. You like your life the way it is? I like mine, too. You stay single by dating women you won’t get serious with. I stay single by not dating at all. At this point, anyway.”

He looked genuinely surprised. “When’s the last time you were in a relationship?”

She didn’t want to tell him it had been almost ten years. He wouldn’t understand … not unless she told him things she’d never told her own mother. Things she’d never told a living soul.

“It’s been a while,” she said evasively.

His gaze moved over her face and down her torso, and then back up to her face. She was wearing a bulky gray sweatshirt, so it wasn’t like he was getting an eyeful, but she could feel her face turn red at his appraisal.

“I have to admit, I’m surprised. But if you’re not seeing anyone, I don’t see the problem.”

She started to get impatient. “The problem is, everyone in my life knows I don’t date. They don’t understand it, but they accept it. If I start seeing someone out of the blue they’ll go nuts. They’ll want to meet you. My family especially. I have an older brother and sister and none of us are married yet, and my parents really want grandchildren. If my mom gets the idea that I’m seeing someone, she’ll start planning a wedding. It’ll be awful.”

She took a breath. “And there’s no way they wouldn’t find out. You’re news. If we start going out, it’ll be in all the local papers.”

“My grandmother’s the only one who needs to think we’re romantically involved,” he said after a moment. “You can tell your friends and family whatever you want. Tell them we’re going out as friends and that the media’s making more of it than it is.”

He leaned forward, his biceps bunching as he rested his forearms on the table. His black T-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders.

“Say you’ll do it.” His voice was forceful and persuasive at the same time, backed up by that intense gaze and a quick, flashing smile.

Allison felt her palms getting sweaty. A very inelegant reaction, one the women Rick Hunter dated probably never experienced.

He was persuasive, all right. And confident, like there was no doubt he’d get his way in the end.

Allison rubbed her palms on her denim-clad thighs and scooted her chair back a few inches, putting a little distance between them. She’d seen this kind of confidence before—plenty of times, in fact. It had been a defining characteristic of a lot of the rich kids she’d gone to high school with. The boys especially, and one in particular. Paul had been so confident it had been impossible to imagine him ever failing to get something he wanted.

She folded her arms across her chest. “I’m sorry, but I’m not your solution here.”

He looked surprised. “You won’t do it?”

“Don’t look so shocked. You’re obviously used to people falling all over themselves to give you whatever you want, but—”

Now he was frowning. “I don’t expect people to fall all over me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. I bet no one ever says no to you. Come on, admit it. Don’t you usually get your way? Maybe always?”

He folded his arms, like her. “No.”

“You grew up rich, didn’t you? I can spot the attitude a mile off. The silver spoon crowd—you’re all alike. You think because you—”

“Hey! Stop doing that.”

His voice was sharp enough that she actually did. “Stop doing what?” she asked.

“Stop making assumptions. Stop judging me because I have money. I’m sorry if that offends you—”