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He had no idea how she was taking the proposition. His gut churned with a wild mix of emotions he couldn’t identify. He was pretty sure shame was cresting to the fore. Was he really doing this? Distilling what they were down to a property transaction? Using real estate to barter her back into his bed?
“What exactly do you mean?” she asked.
This was it. His chance to take it back. He could tell her he hadn’t meant it. That he’d just been speaking without thinking. He could say something. But there was a possibility she’d accept, and so he held firm, squaring his shoulders and planting a hand on his hip in a foolproof gesture of confidence.
“Give me a month. Give us a month.”
“And in exchange, you’ll stop the development?” she whirled around to face him, her features still pinched, but somehow unreadable. As though she were intentionally shielding herself from him. Damn it, he didn’t want that either!
“Yes.”
“I thought it was worth too much to you, your family, your company?”
So did he. It was in that moment, he realized that for the first time in his life, he’d met someone who mattered more than business. More than money. More than his family?
A bead of perspiration formed on his brow. He hadn’t appreciated how high stakes this conversation was until this moment, when he’d laid down an ultimatum and was waiting, powerless to influence her. He could only stand there, mute, silently wishing, and hoping…
“What exactly happens in this month?”
How easily she’d exposed the flaw in his plan—that he’d given it precisely no thought. “It would be like before,” he said, hesitating slightly.
“And then what?”
“We’ll work it out then.”
“That’s not good enough. How can I agree to something when the terms aren’t clear?” She shuddered a little. “You’re offering me a way to stop the development. I’m asking exactly what I’d have to do…”
Nausea crested in his belly. She made it sound wrong. All wrong. She made it sound as though she would consider giving him a month only to stop the development, when for Rocco, this was all about them. He dragged a hand through his hair, uncertain for one of the few times in his adult life. “Forget about it.”
“How can I forget about it?” she asked witheringly. “You’re dangling a carrot in front of me, pretty much the only thing I want in life, so tell me how I get it, exactly?”
He was speechless. This was definitely not going as intended. Not that he’d ‘intended’ anything. The whole stupid offer had just slipped out, with no planning, no forethought, no intelligence, obviously.
“Is it a month of being with you every night? Or every other night? Or just on weekends? Or am I simply to be at your beck and call, waiting for the phone to ring because you ‘need’ me?”
“You’re twisting my words.”
“I’m clarifying them,” she responded caustically.
Okay, fine. If she wanted specificity, he’d give it to her. He was used to negotiating deals; he could think fast. “Five nights a week, at my hotel. Travel with me, if I need to travel.”
“I see,” she tapped a finger to the side of her lips, in a gesture that was somehow mocking, and furious. He just knew she was going to reject him. She was stringing him along, but soon, she’d close the door on this.
Slowly, with a look in her eyes that glittered with cold hatred, she stalked back towards him, each stride long and determined. Then, her hand stretched out. Not to slap him or punch him, as he suspected he deserved, but rather to offer her own to shake.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Rocco.”
His heart thumped against his ribs. His body went tight all over.
“What?” his voice rang in his ears.
“One month. Five nights a week, trips as required, and in exchange, you get the hell out of Honeybee Lane. And then, my life.”
He slid his fingers over hers, his eyes refusing to dodge her gaze, even when shame was making him hurt. He had her. For one month more, he had her, and at the end of that time, everything would be different. Clearer. Better. By then, God willing, he’d be willing to walk away. As for the development, letting it go would be a financial blow, but he wouldn’t regret it. How could he?
That was just business and this, well, this was Maddie.
The conversation had been a disaster, on so many levels, for Maddie. She’d gone from accepting the reality of their situation to realizing how much more she wanted from Rocco, to accepting that he’d never give it to her, to understanding that he really believed her time—and, more vitally, sex with her—could be bought. Okay, he was willing to rip up a deal he’d already paid tens of millions of dollars for, but that didn’t change the facts. It didn’t erase the insult or hurt.
