Miranda Lee - A Scandalous Marriage

But Natalie wished she’d taken notice of the part that said Scorpio was the sign of dark secrets.

‘Marital status?’ she went on.

‘What?’

‘Have you ever been married?’

‘Nope.’

‘Lots of my clients have been,’ she remarked.

‘Not me, sweetheart.’

Natalie stiffened before shooting him a wintry glance. ‘My name is Natalie,’ she said in a voice that would have cut frozen butter. ‘Not sweetheart.’

His black eyes glittered for a moment, as though her correction amused him. ‘My mistake. Sorry.’

She could see he wasn’t. Not at all. But at least she’d made her stand. She couldn’t bear men who called women generic names liked sweetheart and honey. It was condescending and demeaning.

‘Well, nothing has come back to say that you’re not who you say you are,’ she told him after a few seconds’ wait. Neither was there a warning that he’d ever been arrested, or in prison. ‘Now on to your physical description. I can see for myself that your hair is dark brown and very short, and that your eyes are black.’

‘They’re not black. They’re dark brown. They just look black because they’re deeply set.’

Deeply set and infuriatingly sexy.

‘Right,’ she said. ‘Height?’

‘Six four. Six five, maybe.’

‘What’s that in centimetres?’

‘Lord knows.’

‘Never mind. I’ll put six five. I’m five ten and you’re a good bit taller than me.’

For weight/bodytype, she typed in ‘fit and muscly’. She wasn’t the only female in the world who liked well-built men.

‘Do you smoke?’

‘Nope.’

‘Do you drink?’

He laughed. ‘Do ducks swim?’

‘How much do you drink?’

‘Depends.’

‘On what?’

‘On whether I’m working or not. I don’t drink when I’m working.’

Natalie sighed. ‘And when you’re not?’

He shrugged. ‘I’m a scotch man. But I like a nice red with evening meals and a cold beer on a hot day.’

‘Would you classify yourself as a problem drinker?’

‘Certainly not.’

‘Hobbies.’

‘Hobbies?’ he repeated.

‘What do you enjoy doing during your leisure hours?’ she asked, and looked up from the laptop.

Their eyes met momentarily before his left her face to drift down to where her jacket was straining across her breasts.

‘Besides that,’ she snapped.

His eyes narrowed on her, and she wondered if he was wondering why she was letting him get under her skin so much.

‘I like to work out,’ he replied. ‘And to go out.’

‘Where to?’

‘Clubs. Pubs. Wherever I can have a drink with my mates and meet women.’

He’d have no trouble picking up women, Natalie conceded. He wouldn’t even have to speak. His hard, sexy body and those hard, sexy eyes would do all the talking for him.

‘Are you a good lover?’

The question was out of her mouth before she could stop herself. It was not one of her usual questions. But, thankfully, he didn’t know that.

‘I’ve never had any complaints,’ came his nonchalant reply.

She almost asked him how much sex he would want from his wife, but she pulled herself up just in time. She’d already overstepped the mark.

‘Religion?’ she asked instead.

‘Nope.’

‘An atheist?’

‘Nope.’

‘What, then?’ she asked through gritted teeth.

‘The Lord and I haven’t had much to do with each other so far, but who knows what the future might hold?’

‘Fine. I’ll put open-minded on the subject of religion. Education?’

‘Not much.’

‘Could you be more specific than that?’

‘I attended school till I was seventeen, but I didn’t sit for my school certificate or my HSC. I’ve never been to college or university. I’m a self-taught computer genius.’

‘Genius? My, let’s not be too modest here.’

‘I’m not being modest. I’m saying it as it is.’

‘Fine. But I think I’ll enter computer expert. You wouldn’t want to put off a potential wife by sounding a little…shall we say…arrogant?’

‘I’m not arrogant. I’m honest. But put what you like.’

She intended to. Lord, but he was the most irritating man. ‘What’s the name of your software company?’

‘Stoneware.’

‘Stoneware?’ She rolled her eyes at him.

‘The name amused me,’ he said, and actually smiled.

Not a big smile. More a lifting of the corner of his mouth.

‘You do have a sense of humour, then?’

‘It’s not one of my best qualities.’

‘Somehow I gathered that,’ she muttered. ‘Now, Mike, I will understand if you do not want to give me a precise figure, but approximately what is your annual income?’

‘I don’t mind telling you. Last year Stoneware made six point four million dollars profit. I own seventy per cent of the company, so my share was four point four eight million. I expect this next year to be a much better year, however.’

Natalie swallowed her surprise and said, ‘How much better?’

‘A lot better,’ he replied drily. ‘We released a couple of new games which have really taken off.’

‘I see.’

‘I presume that improves my chances of finding a wife?’

His question—and his tone—had a decidedly cynical flavour, which ruffled Natalie’s feathers.

‘Money alone will not secure you a wife from amongst my girls,’ she told him crisply.

‘Are you sure about that?’

‘Quite sure.’

‘Pity.’

‘What does that mean?’

He stared hard at her, making her squirm on her chair.

‘You know, you’re not quite what I expected,’ was his next, rather cryptic comment, ‘but I can see you’re still a no-nonsense businesswoman. Like I said, I’m a truthful man. I don’t like to con people. I also don’t have the time to muck around. The thing is, Ms Fairlane,’ he continued as he sat forward on the sofa, his elbows coming to rest on his knees, ‘I need a wife before the first week in December.’

‘THE first week in December!’ Natalie exclaimed. ‘But December’s just over a month away!’

‘That’s right,’ Mike said, feeling perversely pleased that he’d got a real rise out of her.

He’d met females like Natalie Fairlane before. For some reason they were sour on life, and on men. That was why they tried to hide their femininity behind masculine-looking clothes. They lived in constant denial of their sex, and their sexuality.

Yet a man would have to be blind not to see that Natalie Fairlane was a looker. With the right makeup and the right outfit, she’d be a knock-’em-dead type. She had all the basic equipment. Gorgeous red hair. Striking blue eyes. A sultry mouth. And, if he was not mistaken, hiding behind that simply awful grey trouser suit was a darned good figure.

‘But that’s impossible!’ she informed him agitatedly. ‘It takes a month and a day to get a marriage licence, unless you have a special reason for a special licence. Do you?’ she demanded to know. ‘Oh, this is quite ridiculous. Why do you have to be married by then?’

Natalie watched as he sighed, then leant back again, stretching his arms along the back of the sofa, his leather jacket coming apart as he did so.

Natalie did her best not to stare. But, brother, did that man have a chest on him!

‘Do you want the long version or the short version?’ he said.

‘Any version will do,’ she told him. ‘Provided it makes sense.’

‘Fair enough. The thing is, Ms Fairlane, I’m in negotiations with an American company named Comproware who are very interested in a new firewall program I’ve written. Interested enough to offer me a partnership.’