The Rogue's Fortune. Cat Schield

Elizabeth hadn’t slammed the door on his proposition. Or at least, she hadn’t stormed out of his loft and put an end to the conversation. If he could keep her around for a few more minutes, he knew he could convince her how much he needed her help.

      “Last night you were right. Waverly’s is in trouble. Dalton Rothschild is after the board members to sell. I’m in a perfect position to stop him.” He hit her with all the seriousness in his arsenal. “And you are in a perfect position to help me do so. Think of what will happen to all the employees who’ve been with Waverly’s for years. If Rothschild takes over, what do you think he’s going to do with them?”

      “You aren’t playing fair.” Her gaze skidded away from his.

      At that moment, he knew he had her. “We’ll make this a business arrangement. Consider it a contract job. Six months and you’re free of me. In the meantime, think of all the contacts you’ll make as my fiancée. Manhattan’s elite will be vying to have you as their event planner.”

      “A business arrangement,” she echoed, eyes narrowing as she searched his expression. “Nothing more?”

      “Well, of course there will be public appearances and equally public displays of affection.”

      She chewed on her lower lip, attention fixed on the far side of the room where floating shelves housed some of the less valuable artifacts he’d brought back from around the world.

      “But just public displays of affection. Don’t expect to reap any benefits of our engagement in private.”

      Keeping her in the dark about all his intentions was completely necessary if he hoped to secure her agreement. There would be plenty of time later to demonstrate all the ways their arrangement could be mutually beneficial.

      “I promise not to do anything you don’t want me to.”

      Her brows came together. “That didn’t answer my question.”

      “I assure you, anytime I’m involved in a relationship it’s the women who have expectations, not me.”

      “No wonder people find you untrustworthy.” Elizabeth shook her head. “You couldn’t give a straight answer if your life depended on it.”

      “And I assure you, from time to time, it has.”

      “Let me be blunt. I’m not going to sleep with you.”

      “Who said anything about sleeping.” He knew he should stop teasing her, but she was so damned adorable when she got riled up.

      “If you think I’m some sort of weak-minded bimbo who will tumble into your bed at the first snap of your fingers, you’ve picked the wrong girl.”

      “Easy, sweetheart, I think you’re no such thing. I fully expect you to resist me at every turn.”

      With her blue eyes snapping in ire, color flooding her cheeks and her soft lips parted to deliver scathing retorts, it took all his significant willpower not to draw her into his arms and take advantage of that simmering passion.

      His facial muscles twitched as smiling became irresistible. “In fact, I’m counting on it.”

      Most single New York women would be flattered that Roark Black had chosen them to play the part of his fiancée. Elizabeth suspected a whistle launched from his loft window would bring a dozen or so running. They’d scoff at her reluctance to get cozy with a handsome, eligible bachelor of Roark’s financial and social standing even as they trampled her in their rush to vie for his attention.

      Was she crazy to hesitate?

      There’d been an intense light in his eye as he said he expected her to resist him at every turn that told her she was smart to be wary. Her heart hadn’t stopped its distressed thumping the entire distance to Chinatown where her best friend lived. Allison and Elizabeth had been roommates freshman year and had bonded over their pathological need for organization and their mutual dislike of the girl across the hall, Honey Willingham.

      “Elizabeth.” The leggy woman with dark blond hair and dark circles under her eyes looked at her with delight. “Your timing is perfect. I just got Prince Gregory down for his nap.”

      “Sorry to stop by without calling.” Since Allison had given birth five months ago, Elizabeth hadn’t seen her friend more than once a month. To Elizabeth’s shame, it stung that Allison was so happy being a mom when Elizabeth struggled to conceive.

      “No. It’s fine. I’m happy to take any time you can spare.”

      Her friend didn’t mean anything by the remark, but Elizabeth flinched anyway. “I’m a terrible friend.”

      “No. You’re just busy.”

      So was Allison. She had her hands full with a colicky baby, but she managed to call three times a week. Elizabeth felt even worse.

      “How’s Greg?”

      “Getting better.” Allison led Elizabeth into the tiny kitchen and fetched a couple diet sodas out of the refrigerator. “He sleeps almost four hours a night now.”

      “Yikes.”

      Elizabeth tried to imagine how she was going to make things work on her own with a baby and no help. She glanced around the kitchen. Dishes were piled in the sink and baby bottles sat upside down in a drying rack. Beyond the breakfast bar, where once there had been a pristine living room with glass tables, expensive accent pieces and tons of plants, only the black leather couch remained and it was piled with a basket of unfolded baby clothes. Colorful toys and a baby swing competed for space on the hardwood floors.

      “Can I babysit for you and Keith one night? Maybe you could go out for a nice dinner?”

      Allison looked so hopeful, Elizabeth’s heart clenched.

      “That would be great. Get you ready for your own bundle of joy.” This last was said with such weariness that Elizabeth wondered if her envy over her friend’s perfect life had been a tad off base. Gasping, Allison leaned forward and grabbed Elizabeth’s hands. Her eyes burned with hope. “Is that why you’re here? To tell me you’re pregnant?”

      “No.” Elizabeth shook her head. “The last round didn’t take.”

      “Damn.” Allison’s mouth turned down at the corners. “I’m so sorry. What are you going to do?”

      “Try again.”

      “But I thought you didn’t have enough money.”

      “I’m going to ask Josie to make me a partner.”

      Allison blew out a breath. “Good luck with that.” She looked immediately contrite. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t what you needed to hear. How are you going to approach it?”

      In the face of Allison’s doubt, Elizabeth pushed aside her frustration and squared her shoulders. “I just handled my first A-list party and it was a huge success. All sorts of bookings are coming in and they all want me.”

      “How wonderful. Does Josie know they all want you?”

      On the topic of Elizabeth’s career, Allison had all sorts of strong opinions about Josie Summers. All of them negative.

      “In her own way, she knows.” But that didn’t mean Josie would ever admit it.

      “You could quit,” Allison suggested with a far too innocent expression. “Start your own event planning company.”

      “You know I can’t do that.” It was a conversation she and Allison had engaged in often in the past three years.

      “I know you’re afraid to do that.”

      “I like the security of a job with a steady paycheck.”

      Allison didn’t appear