Her head jerked on her neck. Was he serious? With him sitting there in his suit and tie, hands folded in front of him, she shouldn't find it surprising he handled his dates much like a corporate takeover. There was absolutely no way she could marry a man—even for show—with that much ice in his veins.
"What about the woman I saw leaving your office?" she asked before she'd meant to. "She didn't look like a typical businesswoman." Unless her business was escorting the rich and famous for a hefty fee.
"She left her necklace on the hotel nightstand and came to pick it up."
"Surely the Crane has a lost-and-found box," she said with a snort.
"My nightstand," he clarified.
Oh.
She felt her face go red. Of course he'd slept with that woman.
"Everything will be handled by my team. The wedding will be two weeks from now," he said, moving them forward yet again.
"I didn't say yes yet," she murmured. She had to murmur, because her lips were numb. And her fingers. All of her. "Two weeks?"
"The sooner the better." Reese kept plowing through. "It will be a simple affair at my house. My brother and father will be there, a justice of the peace, and a few members of the Crane Holdings board. Keep your invitations essential. Your parents, a best friend, a few close family members. We need to keep this small. You can't tell your family you're marrying for show. There is too big of a chance the truth will come out. I'll have a photographer there who will feed a few pictures to the media for publicity purposes."
Publicity. He really had all of this worked out. And her parents. God. What would her parents say when she announced she was engaged to Satan Crane? Especially since she couldn't tell them the truth. Her hands were again wrapped around her mug, but despite the warmth from the cup, a chill swept through her. Was she actually considering this?
She thought of her parents and how much they loved the Van Heusen. She thought of herself and how she'd grown up in this cherished building. She thought of Arnold out front, who loved coming to work each day.
She didn't want to work anywhere else, let alone for one of Crane's übermodern hotels. And after they parted ways, she'd own the Van Heusen. As offers went, they didn't come packaged prettier.
Still, what Crane was proposing—as he'd put it, a literal proposal—was preposterous.
"It has to appear real, so I've handed the details over to my PR specialist," he said. "I've spoken with her about it already. A few public appearances and you'll move into my Lake Shore Drive mansion. She assures me she can easily spin this as a whirlwind romance to the press.
Her mouth fell open.
He met her expression with a dubious one of his own. "I know. Whirlwind romance. Ridiculous." He pulled in a deep breath, one that expanded his chest, and checked the face of his watch. Why, she didn't know. It was two in the morning. Where else could he possibly have to be? Unless she was one in a line of many women to whom he was making this offer. It alarmed her how not surprising that idea was.
"Call whomever you're dating and let him down easy. We don't need him using your breakup as media fodder. Since the timeline is tight, I'll need to know your answer by the end of the week. Six months, Merina, and you'll get everything you want."
He said her name with warmth, his tone rough and soft at the same time. She met his eyes. Navy. The inside of her sank even as her heart kicked against her rib cage. It was everything she wanted. Her future and her past in her control.
"If you and whoever you're seeing are meant to be," he said, the warmth vanishing from his voice, "I'm sure he'll take you back when you and I don't work out."
"I'm not seeing anyone." Unable to sit any longer, she rose from the table, her hands flattening on the surface. His eyes went to her shirt like they did the day she stomped into his hotel. He really had a boob fetish, didn't he?
Slowly, he raised his eyes to her face. "That makes this easier, then."
Easier. Sure. Just allow herself to be bought off by the misogynistic billionaire who was trying to control every particle of her life for six months. Just marry him. Easy-peasy.
"I…I can't do this right now." That was the most honest thing she'd said since he arrived. She couldn't categorize what he was asking. She couldn't fathom it. She couldn't picture it. Her dating Reese was outrageous. Her living with him? Insane. But marriage…God. He was crazy.
"I understand." Unaffected by her reaction, Reese stood with her. "You have my private cell now. Call that number and let me know your decision by Friday." With a curt nod, he turned and started out of the dining room.
"I have until Friday?" she couldn't help asking.
"Yes." He plunged his hands into his pockets and waited for her to say more. So she did.
"You booked everything already?"
"Yes." He canted his head to one side and regarded her. He looked handsome and she tried to see him differently than she had when he'd walked in. As a husband. A man she would live with. The man she would hold hands with and kiss in public for the world to see. It was like she'd fallen down the rabbit hole and was having tea with the Mad Hatter.
Reese started for the exit.
"And if I say no," she called after him, her voice hollow, "do you have a plan B?"
This earned her a slight smile over his shoulder, the edges of his lips tipping. "Believe it or not, my list of potential brides with real estate I can hold over their heads is relatively short. I've thought this through. It's the best course of action for both of us."
He turned on the heel of his expensive leather shoes and exited the Van Heusen, leaving Merina with a million thoughts—one of which she really shouldn't entertain.
She looked into her tepid tea, decided it wasn't strong enough, and went behind the bar for a shot of the scotch she'd refused to serve him.
Chapter 4
You threw Reese Crane's thousand-dollar suit jacket into a mud puddle? That's brilliant." Lorelei's deep brown eyes crinkled around the edges and she threw her head back and laughed.