An Indecent Proposition
By Stephanie Julian
An Indecent Proposition
Stephanie Julian
Published by Stephanie Julian
Copyright 2013. Stephanie Julian.
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All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination.
AN INDECENT PROPOSITION
PART I
Chapter One
“Do you honestly think she’s going to show up? What woman in her right mind would?”
“She’ll show. The money will get her here but it’ll be up to you to get her to stay.”
“Sure. Thanks for laying that all on me.”
“Hey, you know what happens when women see me. They freak.”
Keegan Malone set his Seven & Seven aside and rubbed a hand over his aching forehead.
Why the hell did he allow Erik to get him involved in these damn schemes?
The fact that they’d been best friends since boarding school probably had something to do with it.
Erik Riley, second son of the blueblood billionaire Boston Rileys, had always been the one goading Keegan to bigger and better, whether it was pranks or grades or sports. They’d been each other’s perfect foil. Erik had pushed Keegan and Keegan had reined in Erik. Together they’d become unstoppable.
The world had been theirs to conquer until Erik had been seriously fucked up in that fire three years ago.
After five reconstructive surgeries, Erik had had enough. Why go through the agony if he’d never look the same? He hadn’t gotten over that yet. Maybe he never would. But this…
“Don’t you think you’re taking this too far? I know you’ve been infatuated with the girl since the party but why not just introduce yourself in some normal way? You know, call her and ask her to dinner. Or ‘accidentally’ bump into her on the street and introduce yourself. Oh, wait.” He let sarcasm bleed into his words. “You never go out so that won’t work, will it?”
Erik gave him the finger, using his uninjured left hand. He could do it perfectly well with his right but that hand was scarred from elbow to fingertips.
“This will work out best for all of us. She needs the money for her mom—”
“And you have the hots for her so you’ll use the money to get her here and you’ll use me to…”
“Fuck her so I can watch. Yeah, I will.”
Sighing, Keegan shook his head.
He and Erik had shared women for years, since one drunken night at Princeton had ended with them waking up in the same bed with a blissfully sated co-ed between them.
Afterward, the girl had sung their praises to her friends and a campus legend had been born. They’d never been without willing bed partners.
They didn’t only work well together in bed. TinMan Biometrics was proof of that. After eight years, they’d taken the company from startup to global player. They had played their roles well and grown the company until they’d believed there was nothing they couldn’t handle.
Then Erik had nearly died in the explosion and the world had shifted under their feet.
That it should’ve been Keegan in the lab at the time of the explosion and subsequent fire probably had a lot to do with the fact that he couldn’t refuse Erik anything.
Including this incredibly ridiculous scheme.
When Erik had suggested it, Keegan had laughed in his face. Until he’d realized Erik hadn’t been kidding.
And you didn’t try very hard to talk him out of it, did you?
No, he hadn’t. Because when he’d seen Julianne Carter at the cocktail party their company had held for potential clients a month ago, he’d wanted her. Desperately.
And because of the earpiece he wore to keep in contact with Erik during these events—which Keegan loathed but Erik refused to attend personally—he’d known Erik had noticed her too.
It’d been the first time in a long time that they’d agreed on a woman. And the first time Erik had shown any interest in a woman since the explosion.
Keegan hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to her that night but, by the next day, Erik had her entire history.
And this crazy-ass scheme.
Keegan had never thought she’d agree. Had expected her to refuse the offer flat out.
If she had, Keegan would’ve arranged a meeting. Or manipulated one.
Before the accident, Erik had been the master of the straight-forward approach and Keegan the one who worked behind the scenes. After, their roles had reversed. Neither of them was comfortable in their new world order.
But this—
The distant but distinct sound of a car pulling to a stop in front of the house snapped both of them to attention.
Erik grinned at him, the first time Keegan had seen him smile in—well hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Erik smile.
Holy shit
.
She was here.
***
Julianne had been told to expect creepy, but this was beyond strange.
If she didn’t have such utter faith in her friend, Carol, she would’ve turned around and headed home after getting a look at the house.
Hell, if you were smart you wouldn’t be here at all
.
Sighing, she shook her head. There was one huge reason she was here.
No. Actually, there were five-hundred-thousand good reasons.
And she needed every last one of them.
Steeling her backbone, she turned off the car, listening to it wheeze and moan. Her nearly fifteen-year-old Toyota needed new brakes to pass inspection. Hell, it needed a lot more than that but she didn’t have the money for the brakes much less a complete overhaul.
But she would…
if
she went through with this very indecent proposition.
She’d have the money for a car and be able to pay off her mom’s medical bills
and
have money left over to start her own business. Or go back to school.
But first she had to get out of the car.
Turning, she looked at the house. If this were a movie, she’d get out of the car and a guy in a mask made of other women’s flesh would jump from behind one of the huge trees surrounding the place. He’d drag her off to hang her on a meat hook at the back of the house and skin her.
The house… Well, in the daylight, it probably looked a hell of a lot better.
Now, just after nine on the night before Christmas Eve, it looked pretty damn depressing.
No holiday lights hung from the rafters of the Victorian mansion. The building wouldn’t look out of place in Cape May. But stuck out here in the middle-of-nowhere Berks County, Pennsylvania, it looked…
Sad. Lonely. And more than a little creepy. One tiny light shone on the porch, barely enough illumination to make out the front door. At least the house had no broken windows or unhinged shutters. And no sign that said “Beware!”
A new coat of paint would go a long way toward a new lease on life for the place. Which was exactly what Julianne needed. A new lease on life.
And this…whatever the hell this was would be the start of that. Half a million dollars would go a long way toward canceling her and her mom’s debt and setting them up in a new life.
Far away from small towns and small-minded people.
Resolve stiffened her spine and she got out of the car. Her heels sank into the gravel driveway but she’d been wearing stilettos since she was fifteen. She could probably run a seven-minute mile in them and not break her ankle.
And her high school guidance counselor had told her she had no life skills.
So there, Mr. Clark
.
A cold wind whipped through the trees, making them moan and shake. Gathering the lapels of her coat closer together, she shivered as the wind bit at her naked legs.
Hurrying up the front steps, she walked to the door and knocked before she had second thoughts. Or third or fourth. Or fiftieth.
It’s not that she didn’t enjoy sex. Some people in this one-stoplight town thought she enjoyed it a little too much.
And even if those same people figured she’d probably sold herself before, it would be a lie.
Sure, she enjoyed sex. Hell, she loved it. And if she met a guy she liked and took him home with her for the night, whose business was it but hers and his?
It wasn’t like she went out of her way to find married men to tempt away from their wives. Was it her fault she didn’t do background checks on every man she was attracted to?
No, goddammit, it wasn’t.
But she’d found out the hard way that, even if the man lied and said he was single and had no kids, she was still the bitch who’d ruined his marriage.
She and her mom really needed to get out of here. Start over. Make her dream of owning her own catering business a reality.
The man inside this house would give her the means. According to Carol, she’d be doing this guy a favor. Her friend had implied that he’d been in an accident and had some “issues” from that.
As long as he didn’t want to hurt her or, oh, say, hang her on a meat hook and skin her alive, she’d be on board. Five-hundred-thousand dollars was a great motivator.
But she still had to be attracted to him. And she had to like a guy to take him to bed. But she was no princess in an ivory tower either, waiting for Prince Charming to rescue her. If she really couldn’t stand him, she was out. Money be damned.
“Think of this as a blind date,” Carol had said. “If you hit it off, that’s great. If you decide to spend the night, you’ll be five-hundred-thousand bucks richer. If you want to leave, all you have to do is say the word and you’ll be out the door. I give you my word.”
She still wasn’t sure why the man had gone through Carol to approach her with this unusual request. Carol was an event planner. She didn’t typically set up reclusive rich guys with minimum-wage catering employees.
No more stalling. Knock on the damn door
.
She reached for the old-fashioned brass knocker before she managed to talk herself out of it.
Seconds later, a lock clicked and the door swung open. She almost expected it to creak. Instead, it barely made a sound.
“Come in, please.”
The voice was low, cultured and totally fit the man who opened the door. Had to be in his mid-seventies, at least. He was still handsome even though he had a bit of a paunch and not much hair. What little hair he did have was trimmed neatly around his head. He wore khaki pants and a blue, button-down shirt and…
Jesus, the guy reminded her of her grandfather.
This is so not going to happen
.
There was no way in
hell
she could make herself go to bed with him. “You know—”
“Mr. Smith will see you in the drawing room.” The man waved his hand down a dark hall to her left. “It’s the last door. Can I take your coat?”
So she wasn’t here to see him? She almost breathed a sigh of relief.
But really…Mr. Smith. Gee, how original. “No, I think I’ll keep my coat, thank you.”
If she wanted to make a fast escape, she wanted to have it close. Besides, she didn’t want the grandfather look-a-like to see what she had on underneath.