The Fixed Trilogy: Fixed on You(20)

“Okay.” I crossed my leg over the other, his close proximity making me fidgety. And while I was so affected by him, I realized he’d been nothing but business since I’d arrived. Had his move on me the night before been a way to insure I’d accept his proposition? If so, he was a total ass.

“Your loans will be written off as of nine a.m. Monday morning. A written confirmation will be sent to you.”

“Don’t you want to wait and see if we pull this whole thing off first?” I hadn’t meant to come off snotty. Well, not entirely. I was beginning to feel like a deal he was negotiating. I didn’t like it.

“I’m really not worried about it, Alayna.” Hudson seemed on edge as well. “But if you prefer, I’ll postpone the write-off by one week.”

“Fine, whatever. Do I sign some agreement or something?”

“I’d rather there isn’t a paper trail on this.”

“But if anyone questioned my loans being paid off—“

“I would pay off my girlfriend’s loans.” Of course he would. “And any other debt. Do you have other debt?”

“No.” I had a Visa I’d charged up. He didn’t need to know about that. “Is that all?”

Hudson shrugged, the gesture out-of-place for such an assured man. “Unless you have any other questions.”

I hesitated to ask, but I had to know. “When we’re together, in public, I mean, I can hold your hand and…kiss you?” I peered at him through my mascara thick lashes.

The corner of his lip twitched. “I expect you to. Often.” Um, wow. “Anything else?”

Thinking about kissing him, I ran my tongue over my lower lip. “No.”

“Then the business portion of this meeting is done.” He stood and moved back around to his side of the desk. He removed his suit jacket and hung it on the back of his chair. Fuck—the vest, tight across his torso, showing his lean muscular middle—yeah, it was distracting.

Hudson stood in front of his chair and leaned on his desk, his palms flat in front of him. He stared at me for several seconds, and I itched to know what he was thinking. When he spoke, his tone was low and even. “In about two minutes, Alayna, I’m going to come around this desk and kiss you until you’re wet and gasping for air.”

Oh, wow.

“But first, let me clear up one thing that I suspect may be an issue. This charade is mostly about me convincing my mother. I will be saying and doing things—romantic things, perhaps—that are not genuine. I need you to remember that. Out of the public eye, I will seduce you. That will be genuine, but it can never be misconstrued as love.”

“Because you’re incapable of love.” My voice sounded meek and flat.

“Yes.”

Curiosity pulled me to lean forward. “Why do you believe that?”


Hudson straightened and removed his glasses, setting them on the desk. “I’m twenty-nine years old and have never had any inclination toward a woman other than to have her in my bed. I don’t do romantic relationships. I’m married to my work.” He walked slowly around his desk toward me. “That, and casual sex, are what fulfill me.”

I sorted through the oddity of the situation in my mind. Hudson Pierce wanted sex. With me. But not a relationship. But he wanted his mother to believe he had a relationship. With me. So that she didn’t realize her son was incapable of love. Which he was.

The whole thing had me spinning in a circle.

And the worst part was that I knew that I wasn’t capable of the casual relationship he was demanding.

Except…I thought back on the other category two men I’d been involved with in my life—the men that I’d been too attracted to. Joe, Ian, Paul—they’d all wanted a relationship in the beginning. If they hadn’t, if they had made a declaration from day one that they didn’t want more, would it have made a difference in how attached I became to them later?

I was justifying and I knew it. With Hudson, I was an alcoholic walking into a bar but deciding I could withstand temptation as long as all the bottles were sealed.

It was a lie I decided to try to believe. “No romance? I can do that.”

Hudson leaned back on the front of his desk again. He raised a brow, amusement in his eyes. “Are you also incapable of love?”

I met his gaze and ignored the little voice in my head telling me to run. “No, just the opposite. I love too much. Keeping love out of the equation is a very good thing.”

“Good. No love.”

He stepped forward and leaned toward me, a hand on each of my armrests, caging me. His stare was hungry, and a thrill ran through my body, as I realized I was about to be kissed.

But before that happened, I had to know something. When he moved closer, I put a hand against his chest. His very strong, rock hard chest. “Wait.”

“I can’t.” But he paused. “What?”

He was inches from my face, and the lips I longed to nibble on kept my focus as I spoke. “Why me? You could have anyone you want.”

“Awesome. I want you.” He leaned in again, his mouth brushing mine, his breath heating my skin.

“Why?”

He pulled back. Not far, only far enough to look at me. “I don’t know. I just do.” His words came out a whisper, as if he rarely made statements of uncertainty, and I doubted he did. “From the moment I saw you...” He trailed off as he brushed his fingertips across my forehead, his eyes fixed intently on mine, and I briefly wondered which moment—the night of the graduation symposium or when he’d first seen me in the club?