He smiled, then said two words that made her go temporarily blind in one eye. "Marry me."
In all the imaginings she'd ever had about a marriage proposal, absolutely zero of them included billionaires she barely knew. A small, slightly hysterical laugh left her lips.
Reese didn't flinch.
"Did you just say…" She closed her eyes and pushed the rest from her constricted chest. "Marry you?" Surely not. Surely she'd hallucinated that.
"Yes."
She clutched her mug. Voice tight, she asked, "What in the hell are you talking about?"
"My father is retiring soon. The Crane Holdings board of directors isn't convinced I'll make a good replacement due to my dating habits." He stated it clearly and unapologetically, though really, what did he have to apologize for? He was a grown man who could see whomever he wanted. In her opinion, he saw way too many whomevers. A string of silly women who were likely chasing after his wallet. "The shareholders are displeased with the fact that I have a reputation for being…"
"A playboy?" she finished for him.
He curled his lip and corrected with, "Not monogamous."
"Are you capable of being monogamous?" It was easier to needle him than address the gauntlet resting between them like a huge pink elephant.
"I don't prefer it."
Which was no answer at all.
"So this is a bribe."
"It's a proposal." One eyebrow lifted slightly. "In this case, literally."
"You think the first time I walk down an aisle it's going to be an arrangement with a coldhearted snake whose only goal in life is to deepen his pockets?" There was no way. No way she'd agree to this. Even if it meant she was fired, she wouldn't sell her soul. "I'm not going to let you bribe me into marrying you. I don't even like you."
"You don't have to like me. You have to pretend to like me."
My God, he's serious.
"No, I don't." Her neck prickled. Maybe this was an elaborate scheme. "I don't have to do anything."
"You do if you want your job. If you want to keep the Van Heusen intact." He grimaced as he studied the bar. "If you turn me down, I might raze it just for fun."
Her blood moved from chilled to boiling. There were not enough swear words—in every language in the universe—to sum up her feelings. She had to say something, however, so she went with, "You asshole."
"Six months." He dipped his chin and trained those heady navy eyes on her. "We get engaged, then married, make a few public appearances for show. The media starts writing favorable things about me instead of lies, and the board will see I've changed." He shrugged one big shoulder. "Once I land CEO, we quietly divorce."
Six months. For a split second she entertained the idea. Keeping her job and the Van Heusen intact would only cost her half a year of her life.
Wait.
No.
"This isn't the sixteenth century, Crane," she snapped. "Can't you find a woman to date monogamously from the collection of dolls you're always parading around the city? The senator's daughter. That underwear model. Oh, what about that really short, cute niece of the famous designer?"
"No," he answered, his lips cradling the familiar word. "I need someone who will keep up the ruse. Someone who is smart and savvy, who the media will believe I've settled down with long-term."
She was pretty sure there were a few compliments in there, but damned if she knew what to do about them.
"Forget it." She put her hands on the table and moved to stand.
"I'll sign the Van Heusen over to you free and clear," he said, holding her eyes with his.
Her currency. He'd found it.
She lowered to her seat again, palms sweating on the wood where they rested.
"It'll be in your name as a settlement of the divorce. What you do with it—keep it or return it to your parents—is up to you." His gaze stuck to her like superglue. "Everyone wins."
She was completely speechless. Not only would she salvage everyone's jobs and retain the integrity of the VH, but she'd also get to own it? It was…well, it was insane is what it was.
Wasn't it?
"Are you seeing anyone?" His voice dipped, slicing her hectic thoughts into more pieces. The energy between them intensified.
There was a charge there. A spark in the air when he was this close to her. She thought it'd been a by-product of her rage when she'd huffed into his office last week. But no. It was real. Which made his proposition a million times more volatile. Because she did not like him—not even a little—yet that hadn't quelled the physical attraction, which was problematic.
"I didn't say yes," she reminded both of them.
"If you are," he continued, ignoring her, "you'll have to break it off. Tomorrow at the latest. Tonight, if possible."
Her jaw softened, her mouth falling open. She wasn't seeing anyone, but what if she was? He expected her to make a phone call in the wee hours to announce they were through? She would have been offended for her boyfriend if there were one.
She thought of the man who delivered fresh, organic produce to the hotel. Miles. He'd asked her out for coffee a few days ago. He was cute in a pair of black-framed glasses and his hipster-wear. She guessed him to be a few years younger than her twenty-nine and probably the only thing they had in common was that they both drank coffee, but he had a nice smile and she'd been flattered. So she'd said yes. If she agreed to do what Crane was asking…well, there was no way she could explore anything with Miles.
With anyone.
"Merina."
"What?" Her eyebrows crashed together.
"Are you dating anyone right now?" he asked. Slowly.
She was having a problem processing his offer. His proposal. So she deflected.
"Are you?"
He gave her a "you've got to be kidding me" frown.
"Oh, right. Like a million somebodies. Tell me why you're allergic to seeing a woman more than once. Is it because they find out how lousy you are in bed and then run for the hills?"
At her blatant insult, he didn't balk. "It's because I never call them again and instruct my secretary to send flowers stating as much.