I stepped back slightly and narrowed my gaze, but took her hand in mine. It was warm and small in my own. The warmth seemed to travel up my arm and down my spine. I frowned and removed my hand from hers. "And you are?" I hadn't intended on the hostility in my tone.
"Kira," she said simply, as if that explained anything at all. Okay. Kira closed those stunning eyes of hers, and I felt a momentary twinge of disappointment. She shook her head slightly, before she looked back at me. "I'm sorry, do you mind if we sit down?"
I inclined my head toward the chair in front of the large mahogany desk. I set my coffee cup down and moved to sit in the leather chair behind the desk. "Would you like a cup of coffee?" I asked. "I could call Charlotte." What did this girl want? She didn't look familiar.
"No, thank you," she shook her head, "she already offered." A lock slipped out of her pulled-back hair, and she made a small, annoyed frown as she attempted to smooth it back again.
I waited. My head pounded, and I massaged my temple absently. Her gaze followed my hand, and I wanted to squint against it.
She took a deep breath, straightening her spine, crossing her legs. As her chair was positioned away from my desk, my eyes could easily wander down her shapely calves, to her slim ankles that ended in a pair of blue, heeled sandals. The purse, which had been on her shoulder and now rested in her lap, had beads on it in the same shade as her shoes. I didn't know fashion, but I knew expensive when I saw it. My coldhearted stepmother had been the epitome of coiffed decadence.
"I don't mean to rush you, but I have a lot to get done today."
Her eyes widened. "Right. Of course. I'm sorry to hesitate. Well, I guess I'll just get right to it. I have a business arrangement to offer you."
I lifted one brow. "A business arrangement?"
She nodded, twisted the long gold necklace she was wearing. "Yes, well, in actuality, Mr. Hawthorn, I'm here to propose marriage."
I laughed, almost spewing the sip of coffee I'd just taken all over my desk. "Excuse me?"
Those magnificent eyes lit with something I couldn’t define. "If you'll just hear me out, I think perhaps this is something that could benefit both of us."
"And how exactly do you know anything about what might benefit me, Ms. . . . what is your last name? You didn't say."
She raised her little chin. "Dallaire. My last name is Dallaire." She eyed me with some sort of expectation.
"Dallaire?" I paused, frowning. I knew that name. "As in the ex-mayor of San Francisco Dallaire?"
"Yes." She raised her chin higher. Ah, haughty, that's what that gesture was. She was political royalty. An heiress. I didn't know a whole lot about Frank Dallaire, except that he’d been the mayor for two terms and was extraordinarily wealthy—a result of not only his political career, but I thought real estate dealings? Something along those lines. He was consistently on the list of the country's wealthiest men. So why in the hell was his daughter here?
"So I guess a better question, Ms. Dallaire, is how on God's green earth would a marriage to me benefit you?" This ought to be good. I reclined back in my chair.
She sighed, looking only slightly less haughty. "I'm in a bit of a situation, Mr. Hawthorn. My father and I are," she chewed on her lip for a second, seeming to be searching for the right word, "estranged. To put it bluntly, I need money to live, to survive."
I studied her for a second and then chuckled softly. "I can assure you, Ms. Dallaire, marriage to me would not benefit your financial portfolio. Very much the opposite actually. Someone's misinformed you."
She shook her head, leaning forward. "Which leads me to the part that would benefit both of us."
"By all means, please educate me," I said, not trying to hide the boredom in my voice. I massaged my temple again. I hardly had time for this.
She nodded. "Well, it's come to my attention that your vineyard is, uh, well, it's failing to be honest. You need cash."
Anger swept through me at the way this little rich girl summed up my situation. I jerked my hand from my temple and gave her my chilliest look. "And you know this . . . how?"
She raised her chin again. "I researched you."