“Yes and no,” he said. “We’ll have a clandestine destination wedding.”

“I feel there’s more to it than that.”

“Of course, it’ll be leaked to the press. It’ll appear as though we’ve had this secretly planned for a while. You’ll have everything a bride dreams of for her wedding.”

“Unless, of course, I dreamt of a long engagement and maybe love.”

Stewart’s eyes narrowed: his agitation was showing. It didn’t take a genius to recognize that he didn’t appreciate my comebacks. Too damn bad. I wasn’t the one who made him the marriage offer.

“Miss Conway…” he elongated my name, his tenor lower.

Hearing his tone of admonishment, I sat straighter and said, “Listen, Mr. Harrington, I’ve done pretty damn well without parental support for eighteen years. I don’t need it now.”

“Obviously, your parental provision has been stellar.” He leaned forward, his blue eyes simmered with a combination of annoyance and lust. “Let me assure you, there’s nothing remotely close to parenting in my plans for you, or in our contract.”

The way he looked at me made my mind stop arguing while my insides twisted. He was right: everything in the contract was a much more direct discussion of a sexual relationship, made legal and binding through the act of marriage. Nevertheless, the sultry sheen to his icy blue eyes returned my sense of power.

I looked at my phone, 7:26 AM. “If you’ll give me a minute to brush my teeth, I believe we have an appointment with your friend Parker.”

“And at this meeting… which contract will we be signing?”

“My stepfather will live to see another day.”

Stewart’s cheeks rose revealing a pearly white smile. “I’ll phone Parker to alert him to our arrival.”

“But not Randall.”

“No, not Randall.”

THOUGH I WAS uncomfortable about visiting his attorney, Stewart remained true to his word. He stayed with me every step of the way. When we arrived, I did my best to appear to be a woman about to marry one of the wealthiest men in Miami—hell, maybe the country. Yet the entire time I feared that my pounding heart or sweaty palms would give away my secret. I wasn’t worthy of this offer.

I’d been reminded of that all of my life. My presence contaminated and infected those closest to me. It would take some time, but one day Stewart would realize that this was a deal he shouldn’t have made.

As soon as we entered the prestigious leaded-glass doors to the cavernous foyer of Craven and Knowles, a tall, slender woman with a black pencil skirt greeted Stewart warmly. “Mr. Harrington, it’s our pleasure to have you visit today. Mr. Craven will be right with you.” The entire time she spoke, she purposely avoided looking in my direction as her peasant-style blouse teased with the promise of her barely hidden breasts.

“Trish,” Stewart began, focusing her attention my way. “Let me introduce my companion, Miss Conway. In the future, I expect you’ll be as happy to see her as you are me.”

A crimson hue settled on her cheeks as she shamefully lowered her chin, and for the first time, looked in my direction. “Hello, Miss Conway, I apologize if I was rude. It’s nice to meet you. Let me show you to the conference room. Mr. Craven will be with you in a moment.”

Stewart placed his hand in the small of my back as we followed Trish to a glass room. Located near a multitude of desks and doorways, the room had glass on all four sides. When Trish flipped a switch the walls of windows instantly turned opaque and previously invisible blinds created a secluded, private room for our meeting. “Please have a seat.” She gestured toward the table and plush chairs. “While you wait for Mr. Craven, may I get either of you anything to drink? Anything to make the two of you more comfortable.”

Stewart looked my direction with a raised brow. Truthfully, I found her fawning amusing. I did my best not to laugh. “Would you like a cup of coffee, my dear?”

Trish failed to hide her flinch at Stewart’s term of endearment. Nodding, I stifled my amusement. “Yes,” I turned toward Trish. “Thank you, Trish, coffee would be wonderful.”

“And coffee for me, also,” Stewart volunteered. “I’ll take mine black. Miss Conway prefers hers with cream and two sugars.”

Trish immediately repeated the instructions and retreated from the room.

When Stewart reached for my hand, I grinned and asked, “What the hell?”

“As Mrs. Harrington, you’re going to see a lot of that. I thought you might enjoy having a little fun. Besides, ordering something you have no intention of drinking will only help your reputation. I guarantee she’s in the coffee room right now gossiping with anyone who’ll listen. When she finds your full, untouched cup, it will make the company email.”

“Ha, ha, I thought maybe you forgot that I didn’t drink coffee.”

“No, I don’t forget. The world you’re entering is full of piranhas. One day you’ll be able to swim without me, but in the meantime, I’ll be glad to help you grow your teeth.”

I never thought of myself as someone who needed help. The whole concept seemed foreign; however, before I could give it much thought, the door opened and Parker Craven entered. Unlike Trish, who avoided looking in my direction, Parker seemed incapable of looking away; his large, brown eyes almost came out of his head as he took me in. I saw something sinister in his gaze, predatory and frightening. As much as I wanted to turn toward Stewart for the help he’d offered, something told me this would be a recurring theme with the good ol’ boys in Stewart’s circle. The sooner I learned to deal with it, the better. I maintained my composure and thinned my smile.