She nodded her thanks, sinking into the chair and crossing one shapely leg over the other. She smoothed her ivory skirt and tucked the frivolous handbag in beside her.

Then she folded both her hands over her slender knees and looked up.

He quickly cleared his head of the picture her legs made and sat down across from her.

“Traffic was fine,” she said.

He nodded, telling himself to get straight down to business. “And you’ve made up your mind?”

She drew back ever so slightly. Then she nodded. “Yes. I have.”

He cocked his head. “And?”

She twisted a sapphire-and-emerald band around her right ring finger. “I’ll marry you.”

She sounded like she was agreeing to the gallows.

Well, it wasn’t going to be any picnic for him either. He was about to saddle himself with a reluctant wife, curtailing his social life, curtailing his sex life and, given her current expression and body language, conjugal relations weren’t going to be any part of this union.

Which meant he was celibate. For the duration. Wasn’t that just wonderful.

“Thank you,” he forced out.

She gave a sharp nod and made to rise.

“Wait.”

She arched a brow.

“You don’t think we have more to discuss?”

“What’s to discuss?” she asked. But she did sit back in the chair and recross her legs.

“For starters, who do you absolutely have to tell?”

“That I’m marrying you?”

He shook his head. “That it’s a fake.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. That part. My business partners know.”

“My sister knows.”

“Anyone else?”

“My lawyer.” It was her turn to sit forward. “You can expect a call from him on the prenup.”