Yesterday, while signing the contract, she obsessed over the charity details, but barely glanced at the section naming her gains. On anyone else, he’d think her actions were a front to hide her true greed. On Johanna, however, he knew it wasn’t an act.
If he wasn’t careful, at the end of the year she’d leave with more than money and a house—she’d leave with his heart.
Good thing he had no intention of giving it to her.
Johanna stepped into the room and desire punched straight through his chest. She wore a deep burgundy cotton dress with shimmery black edging. The dress flowed gracefully to her knees. The neckline skimmed across her cle**age, and he yearned to caress her soft skin. Her hair swept her shoulders, left down for the occasion instead of her usual ponytail. He took a step closer to her, palms itching with the need to touch her. To make her his.
“You look—you look—”
“Gorgeous,” her friend Sara finished. She grinned, punching him in the shoulder. “Couldn’t help but notice you seemed at a loss for words.”
Jeff chuckled. “Enjoy the silence while it lasts.”
Damon met Johanna’s eyes, reveling in her blush. She looked down at her clasped hands. He strode to her side, grasping her hand. “Shall we get married?”
Johanna let out a little nervous laugh. “Yeah. Why the hell not?”
“Indeed. Why the hell not?”
He couldn’t think of a single reason.
…
Don’t say yes, Johanna prayed. Wait…say it. I don’t know.
She almost wished the justice of the peace would sense it was all a sham and call it off.
“I do,” Damon said, without a moment’s hesitation.
Johanna clenched her fists to keep from wiping her sweaty palms on her dress.
Now it was her turn.
All the times she’d pictured her wedding day, it had been nothing like this. No one stood by her side except Sara. No mother or father cried in each other’s arms as their baby got married. Sara was the only person she’d told about the wedding. No one in her family even knew—or cared.
The justice of the peace cleared his throat. Johanna flinched. He quirked his brows, and her face heated. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
He cleared his throat. “I said, do you take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?”
“Uh.” She met Damon’s eyes. “I…”
Damon squeezed her hand. “We’ll be all right.”
She swallowed heavily. “I do.”
As soon as she said the words, the rest of the world seemed to fade away, and she couldn’t take her eyes off of Damon. His glowing gaze swept over her and her chest tightened. Her body trembled. Before she knew it, the justice of the peace said, “You may now kiss the bride.”
Damon grinned, pulling her into his arms. He pressed his mouth to her ear and asked, “Am I allowed to kiss you now?”
She shivered. His hot breath did things to her constitution she’d rather not explore. She pressed her lips together tightly.
“Quick. No tongue.”
He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”
He kissed her softly, chastely, pulling away almost immediately. His hands lingered on her waist before they, too, dropped away. His eyes burned with desire as he locked gazes with her. Her stomach wrenched with an intensity that downright scared her.
Stay professional. Stay focused. She had to remember this was business, even if he forgot.
Perhaps this marriage wouldn’t be so easy and clear-cut after all.
…
Johanna perched on the edge of her new bed, fingering the hem of her skimpy nightgown. Though they hadn’t spoken about what would happen tonight, she knew Damon would be coming to the room soon. Shrugging into a heavy robe, she tied the belt securely. There hadn’t been much chance to talk throughout the day, but the time had come to lay it all on the line.
There would be no sex.
She’d promised to love, honor and cherish him—but only for a year. She knew their time had an expiration date. She couldn’t let him in too far.
The door creaked open and Damon hovered in the doorway. The top three buttons of his shirt were undone, and his tie was missing. His feet were bare, and he held two glasses and a bottle of champagne.
“May I come in?”
“Yes. Of course.” She stood and met him halfway. She tried to smile, but ended up grimacing, her mouth twisting nervously. Smooth. Real smooth. When she removed the glasses from his hands, their fingers brushed. She quivered at the contact. “Champagne?”
“Hm?” He shook his head a little, focusing on her once more. “Oh. Yes.”
While he busied himself pouring, she studied him. He had made so many of her dreams come true. So many things she never thought she’d be able to give to the community now stood in front of her. She couldn’t believe her luck. How had she managed to come across such a good guy?
And why had he chosen her?
Fool.
“I have to tell you something before you get the wrong idea,” she blurted, tugging on the robe to her belt.
Sighing, he handed her a glass. “You don’t want to have sex.”
She blinked. “Uh, right. How did you know?”
He cast a look over her body, twisting his lips in a mockery of a smile. “That foul robe.”
She tugged the belt tighter. “I don’t want to hurt you, but this has to stay professional and proper. Or else someone will get hurt. I’m sorry.”
His smile turned strained. “It’s okay. I’m fine with us, uh, keeping our distance.”
“Oh. Good.”
“But…” He captured her hand, pulling her close to his chest. He cupped her cheek. “I’m going to do everything in my power to make you change your mind.”
She savored the feel of his hand on her cheek. She wished she could do it. Longed to say yes. She swayed closer.
His breath fanned across her cheeks, stroking her skin to sensitivity—and reality, cold bitch that she was, slapped her across the face. She needed to back off—now.
She shook her head and shrugged loose. Would it be so wrong to succumb and enjoy him for a year? Would she be able to keep her heart detached?
Not possible. With him all the normal rules seemed to leave the building. Hell, she’d married him. If that didn’t define pure craziness, she had no clue what did.
“I won’t change my mind. I’m quite good at avoiding seduction, I’ll have you know.”
He raised his eyebrows, and his lips slanted into a smile.