But the man who was actually worthy wouldn’t take it.

I walked out onto the balcony, leaning back against the stone railing so I could look at the most beautiful view in the city. The lights, hills, and water of Seattle could never hold a candle to Paige.

“You came,” she said, her voice shaking with the same fine tremor of her hand as she took a sip from her glass.

“Explain it to me.”

“Explain what?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “That I want you? Half the women in Seattle would admit to wanting you, and the other half are liars.” Her gaze was steady, unwavering.

“You only want one night?” A soft breeze blew by, raising goosebumps on her bare arm. I removed my jacket and slipped it over her shoulders, which earned me a soft smile.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” I said, loosening my bowtie so the ends hung down. “So about this one night?”

She cleared her throat and pulled the edges of my jacket closed. “Yes, I want a night. If that’s amenable to you.”

Amenable? One night spent with Paige under me? Who wouldn’t be ecstatic over that?

“But—” she continued, cutting off my thoughts, “I also have a proposition that might benefit us both.”

“You’re literally propositioning me for sex? Isn’t that illegal?” I teased.

A blush rose on her cheeks, and she looked away with a smile briefly. God, this woman wasn’t just beautiful—she was captivating.

“Kind of,” she admitted with a shrug. “You are in the middle of a PR nightmare.”

I blinked. “We’re really going to have to work on your pick-up lines.” Of course she knew. Everyone in Seattle knew, let alone our closest friends.

“Well, there’s no use beating around that bush. You are. I know you’re up on contract, and that you’re not exactly a PR asset to the Sharks right now. I could change that.”

“How? By pretending to be my girlfriend like we’re in some sappy rom-com?” One night, I could handle. But there was zero chance in hell I was faking anything in my life, let alone with a woman I honestly wanted.

Her shoulders straightened, and her chin rose a good inch. Gone was the charming seductress—this was the savvy business woman. “Actually, I’m proposing that we enter into a real relationship with contractual limitations.”

“I’m sorry?” I leaned in, certain I’d heard wrong.

“I have three months until I’m set to take over the company—until I sign a contract with a morality clause that puts an end to pretty much everything I could possibly want for myself. I’ll basically be cloistered until an acceptable match comes along.”

“So what you’re saying is that until your Mr. Right comes along, you’d like me to be your Mr. Right-now?” Holy shit, could tonight get any weirder? Here, have your dream woman for a while, but only because you’re not good enough for her in the long-term.

“No,” she adamantly shook her head, those green eyes going wide. “I’m saying that I could improve your PR. I’m an upstanding member of the community. I sit on the board of several charities. I don’t get drunk in public or do anything that would put me in the tabloids—”

“Yeah, you’re a regular thoroughbred filly,” I snapped, my insides twisting at the way she’d just laid out our differences.

She looked down, her shoulders sagging the slightest fraction, and I immediately regretted my words. But then she straightened, arched a delicate eyebrow at me, and my heart fucking lurched toward her, glad I’d said the words so I could have this moment.

“I am,” she agreed. “And what I want is three months with you. A real relationship with a real end date.”

“This doesn’t feel a little Pretty Woman to you?”

“Not at all. It’s a simple business transaction where we both benefit. We merge our lives for these three months, we both get what we need, we both get out unscathed and all the better for it.”

“And what is it that you need?” I asked softly, stalking toward her. For every step I took, she retreated across the small balcony. She might act supremely confident, but the idea of proposing this insane little deal, and actually following through with it were two different things.

“To live.” Her back hit the brick wall.

“Clarify,” I ordered softly, running my thumb down the silk of her cheek. God, she was incredibly soft.

“I want to experience...lust. Passion. Everything I’m guaranteed to give up in three months.”

My dick sprung, pushing uncomfortably against the fabric of my tux. “Why me?”

Her tongue slipped out, running along her bottom lip. “Because you’re the only one I want, and I know that this would be the only chance I’d ever get to have you.”

I studied the small shifts in her expression, the tiny nuances in her eyes that showed me her certainty, her determination, and the sliver of what I knew she wanted to keep hidden—her vulnerability.

“And when three months are up?”

“Your reputation is on the mend, and we both have contracts to sign and some great memories.”

And when three months isn’t enough?

I shoved that thought as far away as possible. This morning Paige was as untouchable as she was beautiful. She was a fantasy, like the first time a fourteen-year-old boy stumbled onto a Victoria’s Secret catalog. Now she was standing in front of me, telling me I could have her for three months with no strings attached.

It was every man’s dream. I’d be a fool to turn her down, but I’d be an even bigger fool to walk into paradise only to know I’d be cast out in three month’s time.

“Rory?”

“I’m thinking.” I brushed back a loose strand of red hair. Could I have her for three months and walk away unscathed? Unlikely. She’d burn me to the very core, but damn if that wasn’t a fire I was willing to walk through.

“I know it’s an odd offer. And that you can have any woman you want in Seattle. Hell, probably the entire country. I’m not stupid. I see the magazines, the billboards, the thirty-foot tall poster of your face on the outside of the arena. And I know that I’m the one you’d be doing the favor for. I might not be a supermodel like that one girl last year—”