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single parent, with a single income. Married to me, you can be a full-time mother instead of a slave to the workforce. You can work or not work, whatever you choose. I have housekeepers, so any time you want to yourself won’t be spent scrubbing grout. My work requires travel. You and our children would be encouraged to accompany me. You could see the world. Meet new people. There would be little, if anything, tying you down beyond the few expectations I have for my wife.”

      The muscles along her shoulders pulled tight. “What expectations?”

      “There’s a significant social element in my business, and I want a wife who can help balance the conversation. Playing hostess and accompanying me as needed for whatever comes up. Dinners, parties, charitable events. No more than a couple times a week. Also, our children—as many as you’d like—come first. They need to be your number-one priority. And lastly it means respecting both me and our marriage vows.”

      She understood. “Fidelity.”

      “Fidelity.”

      No surprise Connor wasn’t the kind of man to sit idly while his wife entertained herself with the golf pro from the club, but within the marriage...

      Her eyes drifted to where her hand was wrapped halfway around his wrist. She’d been touching him all this time, and yet this was the first moment she’d been aware of the low charge running between them. Meeting his gaze, she could see in those dark pools an answering awareness of that connection.

      Her breath caught.

      “You won’t be lonely with me, Megan. I know what I’m suggesting doesn’t follow the norm. It’s not the traditional courtship and promise of love. But we aren’t the most traditional people.” Reversing her hold, he took her hand in his. “We have something good. All I’m asking is for you to give it a chance.”

      A chance.

      She believed it could be good. Which was part of the problem. Because something good would be hard to lose.

      And she’d lost so many times already. It was why she’d come up with the plan. No more waiting for the other shoe to drop. Hoping for something that would never come.

      Except with Connor, love wasn’t part of the equation. He simply wanted a partner. Someone who understood his priorities the way he understood hers.

      He wanted to be another parent for their children.

      As many as she wanted.

      She’d always dreamed of a houseful of kids. But when she’d decided on the plan, she accepted in all likelihood there would be only the one. And one had been enough.

      But what Connor was offering wasn’t about just enough. He was offering her more than she’d believed she could wish for.

      Still, the risk remained, reduced as it may be.

      What if she got attached—let herself believe in a family—and he changed his mind? Left.

      She couldn’t go through it again.

      “I need to think,” she said, pushing back from the table and walking to the glass doors where the Vegas sun beat down, brutal and beautiful all at once, over their private oasis.

      Moving in behind her, Connor rested his hands over her shoulders, pressing his thumbs into the tender muscles at either side of her spine. A part of her wanted to shrug him off, tell him to give her the space she asked for. But a bigger part recognized the act as an example of the kind of support he was offering. A subtle reminder she would not be alone. There would be someone behind her.

      “I get it, Megan. I do. You don’t remember and it’s scary to take my word on something so huge.” Then it wasn’t merely the touch of his hands she was experiencing, but the press of his body along hers. His chin rested atop her head, his chest at her back as he continued rubbing the tension from her neck...and all she could think was how right it felt. “So I’m not asking you to believe in me right now. I’m asking you to believe in yourself.”

      She turned in his arms, her hands coming to rest on the planes of his chest as if it were the most natural thing in the word. “Believe in myself?”

      Connor brushed his knuckles against her temple, soft and light.

      “You married me. Don’t you want to find out why?”

      SHE’D AGREED.

      Connor couldn’t quite believe it himself—and yeah, yeah, it wasn’t exactly the whole nine yards...more like a conservative six and half by his estimate—but Megan was spending the day with him. Giving him a chance to convince her of what kind of sense they made.

      Which meant he was going to Gail’s wedding. Fortunately, a Vegas-style seating chart had more to do with who got to the bar first than which great-aunt was too blind to figure out she’d scored a table by the kitchen.

      Pouring another coffee for himself and a glass of juice for Megan, he listened with half an ear as she checked in with Gail. She’d barely gotten past hello before a suspicious silence, followed by some stuttering and then more silence, confirmed what he’d known from the start. Jodie and Tina had been running at the mouth, probably since Megan and he took off the night before.

      “I did stay with him... Of course I’m fine, but that’s not—Gail, you’re getting married today— Yes, he is very handsome...”

      This was the difference between men and women. When Connor texted Jeff to let him know something had come up and he’d get in touch next week, the guy had texted back a single word. Later. End of discussion. Granted, it might have gone longer if he’d mentioned the something in question was an exchange of vows, followed by a case of acute amnesia...but whatever.

      “I know it’s not like me... No, there weren’t drugs involved—Stop! Gail, today is about you. When should I come by to help?”

      Walking the juice over to the table, he set it down by her hand, running a thumb over her shoulder to make sure she saw it.

      Then, covering the small of her back with his palm, he leaned close to her free ear. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

      Her eyes were wide when she turned slowly to look at him, and pure masculine satisfaction surged through him at the obvious impact his actions had spurred.

      She wanted to be convinced.

      “Wait, what?” she asked, her attention firmly back on the call at hand. “You don’t want me—?”

      Connor looked up, curious.

      “Because of Jodie and Tina. Right... No, no, anything to make this day perfect for you.”

      She sounded uncertain but resigned. “Well, I’ll see you down at the limo, then. And, Gail—could you get my bridesmaid dress sent over here?”

      After a few more details were exchanged, Megan hung up and turned a hesitant smile his way. “Good news. We’ve got a few more hours to get to know each other.”

      “Oh, yeah?”

      “Gail doesn’t want to deal with Jodie and Tina while she’s getting ready, and she can’t have me if they aren’t there, so we’ll all meet at the limo when it’s time to go.”

      “Come on over here,” he said, patting the cushion beside him.

      Megan crossed to him, a strained smile stiff on her lips, apprehension lurking in her eyes.

      Good news his foot. She’d been banking on the break.

      Taking her hand, he pulled her down beside him, leaving space between the crook of his knee and her hip, but keeping a light hold on her fingers. “Look, let’s forget about all the reasons I’m such a stellar choice for a husband right now and relax. Talk.”

      Her eyes narrowed on his mouth and she pulled

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