Tell me what you're looking for in this marriage?"

Eric glanced around, satisfied with the results. His personal conference room always provides a business atmosphere, with the bouquets of fresh flowers that his secretary has placed in the center of the table showing a connection to his personal style, Among the elegant wine racks, the cherry wood surfaces shine with leather seats. The contract was already written, next to an elegant silver tea tray, coffee, and cakes. Formal, friendly – ​​something that is reflected in the tunes of their marriage.

He ignored the hole in his gut as he thought about meeting Carina Scodelario one more time. He wondered what she was like growing up. The stories his sister shared with him were portraits of an impulsive and reckless woman. He hesitated at first about Anna's offer – Carina didn't fit the image he needed. Unforgettable memories of a free-spirited child with an undulating ponytail always disturbed his thoughts, even though he knew she owned a respectable bookstore. He still thought she was Anna's best friend, even though he hadn't seen her in years.

But time is up.

They shared a past past, and he felt that Carina could be trusted. She might not fit his idea of ​​a perfect wife, but she needed money. I need it now. Anna remained silent about the reason, but Carina seemed desperate. One cash requirement he could meet – it would be black and white. There is no gray area at all. There was no idea of ​​intimacy between them. A formal business transaction between old friends. Eric can live with that.

He pressed the interphone to call his secretary, but at that moment the heavy door slid open and closed with a click.

He turned back.

Deep blue eyes met his with a hint of hesitation that clearly told him this woman would lose any game of poker – she was brutally honest and had to be free. forced to deceive.

He noticed that her gaze was fine, but age had changed the colors in her eyes, a confused combination of navy blue and jade green. A certain image accompanies the intellect – deep beneath the surface of the Caribbean Sea with its mysteries. A blue arc of the sky stretched long enough and wide enough that a man could not find a beginning or an end.

Her eyes stood out among her jet-black hair, which consisted of curls that fell behind her shoulders and framed her face with a natural wildness she couldn't seem to control. High cheekbones reveal plump lips. He once asked her if she had been bitten by a bee, and then burst out laughing. Now that joke was aimed at you again. The image of a hot mouth that men usually imagined was just like hers – and it had nothing to do with bees. Except for honey. Better to pour warm, wet honey over those plump lips and lick them all slowly.

Oh, it's damned.

He completed the test and readjusted himself. He recalled her torture when he discovered she was wearing a bra. An early development, she was embarrassed by his discovery, and he used that information wisely. Now, it's not funny anymore. Her breasts looked as full as her lips, and it matched the curve of her hips well. She was tall, almost as tall as he was, and this seductive woman's package was wrapped in a fiery red dress that emphasized her highlights, skimmed her hips, and fell to the floor. Her bright red toenails showed through her shiny red shoes. She was still standing in the doorway, as if to allow him to fully admire her before she decided to speak.

Feeling somewhat flustered, Eric fights off his impatience and uses professionalism to conceal his reaction. Carina Scodelario grew up very well. A little too good for your taste. However, he didn't need to tell her that.

He invited her with the same neutral smile he used to offer in any business relationship. "Hello, Carina. Long time no see."

She smiled back but it didn't show in her eyes. She stepped forward and squeezed her hand. "Hello, Eric. How are you?"

"Good. Sit down. Shall I bring you some coffee? Or tea?"

"Coffee, please."

"Ice cream? Or sugar?"

"Cream. Thank you." She slid gracefully into the padded chair, turned away from the desk, and crossed her legs. That tight red material pulled up and gave him a glimpse of her olive skin, smooth and very athletic.

He focused on the coffee cup. "Thousand-layer (Napoleon)? Or breaded apple pie? They're all from the street bakeries."

"No, thank you."

"Sure?"

"Yes. I'll never be able to stop at one. I've learned not to tempt myself."

The word temptation fell from her lips in a low, hoarse voice like caressing his ear. His pants tightened underneath and he realized her voice had caressed his other parts just as well. Totally confused by his reaction to a woman he wanted to have no physical contact with, he concentrated on handing over coffee and sat down across from her.

They studied each other for a while and the silence stretched. She fiddled with the delicate gold bracelet that wrapped around her wrist. "I'm sorry about your Uncle Earl."

"Thank you. Did Anna tell you about the details?"

"This whole thing sounds crazy."

"It's true. Uncle Earl believed in family, and before he died he was convinced that I would never get married and settle down. So he decided on a strong push. would be good for me."

"You don't believe in marriage?"

He shrugs. "Marriage is unnecessary. Dreams are forever a fairy tale. White horse knights and monogamy do not exist."

She leaned back in surprise. "You don't believe in making a commitment to someone else?"

"Commitment is short-lived. Sure, people mean it when they confess their love and loyalty, but time eats away at all the good and leaves behind all the bad. Do you know any Anyone have a happy marriage?"

She parted her lips, then sank into silence. "Besides my parents? I suppose no one. But that doesn't mean there aren't any happy couples."

"Maybe." His tone contradicted part of his agreement.

"I guess there's a lot of things we don't agree on," she said, and shifted in her seat and then crossed legs. "We'll need some time together to sort things out."

"We don't have time. The wedding is next weekend. It doesn't matter if we're not together. This is purely a business deal."

She narrowed her eyes. "I saw him with that same domineering overbearing or bully nature who teased me about my bust size. Some things didn't seem to have changed."

He focused his attention on the slope of her dress. "I think you're right. Some things stay the same. But others keep growing."

Her breathing was ragged, but she surprised him when she smiled. "And everything else is still as small as before." Her gaze was directed at the bulge in the middle of his pants.

Eric almost clicked his tongue in his coffee, but still managed to put the cup down in a calm manner. A build-up of heat was punching his gut as he remembered the day in the pool when they were kids.

He had mercilessly teased Carina about the changes in her body when Anna snuck up behind him and yanked down her swim trunks. Showing the whole thing to the world, he angrily walked away and pretended the whole scene didn't bother him. However, his memory still ranks it as the most embarrassing moment of his life.

He pointed to the papers in front of her. "Anna told me you needed a specific amount. I left the matter up for negotiation."

A strange expression crossed her face. Her contours tightened, then expanded. "Is this a contract?"

He nodded. "I know you'll need a lawyer to go over it."

"It's not necessary. A friend of mine is a lawyer. I've been educated enough, because I helped him study for the bar exam. Can I watch it?"

He slid the papers across the polished wood. She reached into her purse for a pair of small, black reading glasses and pushed them up to the bridge of her nose. A few minutes passed as she studied the contract. He took that opportunity to study her.

Her strong charisma excites him. Carina is not your type. She was so curvaceous, so direct, so... real. He had enjoyed knowing that he would be safe from any emotional outbursts if something didn't go right for her. Even when Gabby became upset, she always managed to handle herself with caution. And Carina was very afraid of him. Something in his stomach whispered that she would no longer be easily bullied.

She voiced her opinion and expressed her feelings without thinking. These reactions will be very dangerous and destructive and very chaotic. The last thing he needed in a marriage.

However, ...

He trusts her. Those emerald green eyes indicate a certain determination and fairness. Her promise meant something. After a year, he knew she would leave without looking back or lusting for more money.

She certainly is.

A cherry-red fingernail lightly tapped the edge of the page in a steady rhythm. She looked up. Eric wondered why her skin was so pale when she seemed rosy and healthy a few minutes ago.

"Do you have a list of requests?" She spoke as if she had accused him of a death sentence instead of making a list of assets and liabilities.

He cleared his throat. "Just a few qualities that I want my wife to have." She opened her mouth to speak but no words appeared. She seemed to be struggling to let them out.

"I want a waitress, an orphan, and a robot, all in one. Is it fair?"

He took a deep breath. "You're exaggerating. Just because I want to marry someone who is charming and has a good work ethic doesn't mean I'm a monster."

She smiled nonchalantly. "You want a Stepford wife without sex. Have you learned anything about women since you were 14?"

(Stepford: derived from the horror film Stepford Wives. It usually refers to obedient housewives.)

"I've learned a lot. That's why Uncle Earl forced me to join an organization that puts women first."

She gaped her mouth. "Men always get a lot out of marriage!"

"Eg?"

"Sexual routines and favors."

"After six months, the headaches start coming and you'll be bored to the point of crying."

"Some people live to old age together."

"Men never want to get old. That's why they keep looking for young women."

Her mouth dropped. She covered her mouth with a tsk. "Children... a family... someone who will love you in sickness and in health."

"Or someone who'll spend all of your money, nagging you every night and vindictive when you clean up your mess."

"You're so pathetic."

"She's so surreal."

She shook her head, causing the silky black curls to rise around her face, then slowly fall. The pink color was back on her skin. "God, your parents must have raised you wrong," she mumbled.

"Thank you, Freud." (Freud: PhD in Psychology)

"What if I don't fit all of these elements?"

"We'll take care of it."

Her eyes narrowed and she bit her bottom lip. Eric remembered the first time he'd kissed her, when he was sixteen years old. He remembered how his mouth had pressed against hers and felt her trembling. His fingers gently stroked the bare skin of her shoulder. Fresh and clean with a floral scent that was teasing his nostrils. Then her body shone with innocence, beauty and purity. Waiting for the happy-forever part.

Then she smiled and told him she loved him. Want to marry you. He should pat her on the head, say something nice, and go on his way. Instead, her comments about marriage were so tempting and endearing in a way that frightened his cowardly self. Even at the age of sixteen, Eric knew that no relationship is ever going to be good – they will all turn ugly eventually. He laughed, called her a child, and left her alone in the woods. The image of pain and vulnerability on her face tore at his heart, but he made himself callous with his emotions. The sooner you learn it, the better it gets.

Eric was sure that both of them had learned their lesson that day.

He shook his head out of the memory and focused on the present. "Why don't you tell me what you're looking for in this marriage?"

"One hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Cash. Upfront and nothing more at the end of the year."