His Price

"You cannot order a wife through your assistant's inbox." Zariel pushed the contract back toward him. "Even if your assistant made a terrible mistake."

Kaelen stopped the page with two fingers. "You sell this service. Explain why I cannot purchase it."

"Because you are my boss, and this was a template."

"A well prepared template. The asset terms are clear, the penalties are substantial, and neither party has to pretend this is a love match in private."

Zariel looked at the signature again. She had imagined dismissal, humiliation, perhaps a lawyer asking unpleasant questions. She had not prepared for him to become a client.

"The original customer needs a temporary spouse because of his family's trustees," she said. "You don't strike me as a man who takes orders from relatives."

Kaelen settled back in his chair. "My uncle Harrison sits on the board. He would disagree with you."

"Let him disagree. You own the company, don't you?"

"I lead it. There is a difference, particularly while a merger depends on other people signing their names."

He spoke without the usual impatience he reserved for questions from his staff. That made her listen, although she kept her hands clear of the document.

"Harrison has persuaded several investors that my private life makes me unreliable. Yesterday he made their position plain. They want a married man leading the company."

"Someone to smile beside you while they inspect the accounts?"

"Someone they believe I intend to build a life with."

"Those are very different jobs, Mr. Sterling. One ends when the cameras leave."

"Your proposed agreement lasts a year. That is sufficient."

She rubbed a thumb along the edge of her tablet. Her agency matched people with partners who could survive demanding families and suspicious friends. A board overseeing a huge merger would be harder to fool, especially when one party was its chief executive.

"You realize what happens if this gets out?" she asked. "They won't praise the quality of my clauses."

"It will remain private. You are experienced, and I have the resources to keep our information secure."

"You sound very sure about something we haven't even started."

"I do not intend to start unprepared." He glanced at her contract. "Your premium f*e is five hundred thousand dollars, with expenses paid separately."

The figure had sounded sensible when she wrote it for a stranger. Spoken across her employer's desk, it made her grip the tablet so tightly that its edge hurt her palm.

She had priced the work to cover difficult clients, last minute demands, and the people her agency employed to keep a performance convincing. She had not priced a year of sitting outside this office while everybody watched her differently. That expense had never appeared in Marcus's calculations.

"That f*e goes through the agency," she said. "It isn't a purchase price for me."

"I know how your agency works. I also know you have three hundred dollars in your personal account."

She stopped moving. His office suddenly felt smaller, the chair too close to the desk.

"Why do you know that?" Her voice had sharpened.

"I reviewed your finances before signing. Your aunt's property is at risk, and the medical debts have not been cleared."

Zariel stood halfway out of her seat, then sat back down. Leaving would not erase what he knew. She wanted to ask who had given him permission and already knew how little that question would accomplish.

"Those are my family's problems," she said. "They aren't part of my employee file."

"They are part of the decision you have to make."

"You investigated Brenda too?" She hated bringing her aunt's name into the office.

"I established what was owed. I also found that Marcus has been taking money from several of the smaller agency accounts."

For a moment she couldn't answer. Marcus had sent her complaints about late payments, server repairs, clients who needed more time. She had accepted them because doing everything herself was impossible.

"You are saying my partner has been stealing?" she asked.

"I am saying you should examine your accounts.

You have been working to meet expenses that are not all what you believe them to be."

Anger came before the hurt could settle. She had stretched groceries, postponed bills, and told Brenda that things were improving. All the while Marcus had handled the money.

Kaelen let her absorb it, then reached for the contract.

"My legal team has instructions to clear the bank debt and your family's remaining liabilities. The funds will be transferred by midnight."

"You have already instructed them?" She looked at his signature.

"Yes. When the year is complete and the merger finalized, I will establish a trust for the international expansion of your agency."

She knew the value of that offer, not as a number on a screen but as an end to calls from the bank.

Brenda could stay in the house. Zariel could keep the business she had built instead of watching it disappear behind Marcus's excuses.

"And what do you want in return?" she asked.

Kaelen stood, fastening his jacket. "You will appear beside me as my wife. You will attend the necessary events, protect the agreement, and give the board no reason to question us."

"I'll still be working here?" She glanced at her tablet.

"Your responsibilities continue. So does your obligation to discretion."

"You make a year sound like another appointment on your calendar."

"It has a beginning and an end. That should reassure you."

She looked down at the boundary clauses, knowing they had been written to protect people in exactly this position. Yet he had already examined her life and arranged the payment before she had finished understanding the offer.

"Where would I live?" she asked, although his expression warned her.

"My penthouse. Your apartment is unsuitable for the attention this will attract."

He stepped away from the desk, ending the discussion with the same certainty he used to close meetings.

"Your belongings will be packed tonight, Miss Thorne. By morning, you will be living with me.