He gave a little laugh. “You get that a lot, huh?”
“Let’s just say the whole ‘true love is a fantasy’ routine is a bit tired.”
“And what would you have us all subscribing to?” he asked as the server approached with their two cocktails balanced perfectly on a tray. “That we’re all just waiting to be tamed by the right woman?”
Brooke waited until the server had placed their drinks down and moved away, buying herself some time.
“Not tamed,” she responded finally. “We women just want—we hope . . .”
Brooke trailed off, and Seth shifted his body to face her more fully, his expression turning earnest. “What? What do you hope?”
“That someone good will love us,” she said quietly.
He blinked in surprise, and she gave a little sigh as she picked up her drink. “I know. It’s sad, really, how simple it is. But the truth is, I don’t think any of us women really want or need the roses and the fancy dinners or even the poetry so much as we just want the love.”
Seth said nothing as he watched her take a sip of her martini. She should watch herself. Martinis packed a punch, and the glasses at this bar were large. And yet, while she certainly felt the buzz from her last one, she also wasn’t entirely sure that it was just the alcohol at work.
She was pretty sure the man next to her was every bit as intoxicating as the vodka. Maybe more so.
“Okay, so what’s your take on it?” she said, embarrassed by how vulnerable she felt after her overshare. “You said that marriages could work, but not for the ‘lovey-dovey’ reasons. Why do you think some of them last, then?”
“For the same reason any merger works. When both parties stand to benefit equally, there’s no reason it shouldn’t work.”
Brooke stared at him. “That’s . . . that’s . . . hideous.”
“How so? Everybody wants something, Ms. Baldwin. It’s just a matter of ensuring each side can offer the other what they want.”
“All right,” Brooke said, turning toward him and matching his posture. “I’ll play along. What is it that your ex wanted that you couldn’t offer?”
His head snapped back a little, and Brooke gave him a victory smile. He hadn’t seen that one coming, and that was exactly her point. It drove her crazy when people talked about relationships in that cool, emotionless tone right up until the point you talked about their relationship.
“Nadia . . .” His gaze drifted to somewhere over her shoulder as he considered. “I don’t know what Nadia wanted. I’m not sure that Nadia knew what Nadia wanted. Maybe that was the problem.”
“What about you? What did you want that she wasn’t offering?”
His eyes came back to her, and Brooke suddenly felt just a tiny bit breathless. No, it definitely wasn’t the vodka that was her main problem. It was him.
“I want stability,” he said quietly. “I want someone who won’t offer up any surprises. Not that Nadia was volatile; I just didn’t know what she was thinking. I like to know. Everything.”
“So, your ideal mate is a robot,” Brooke said.
He gave her a rueful smile. “Believe it or not, I do understand just how unreasonable I must sound. It’s why I’m not exactly holding my breath to get married anytime soon. Or ever.”
“At least until they come out with an attractive cyborg model,” she said with a little wink.
They were sitting closer now. Just inches separating them. When had that happened? How had that happened?
And yet Brooke didn’t move away. Neither did he.
Belatedly, she realized they were steering into personal territory. She had to think of this as a business meeting between two associates, that was all. So she had to get back to the business at hand.
She cleared her throat. “So where does Maya fit into all of this? What if Neil can give her what she wants?” she asked. “What if she and Neil both benefit from the marriage? Excuse me, merger.”
He gave her a ha-ha look, but he answered her question seriously. “Maya wants what any woman with no parents and a crusty brother wants. A companion. My sister is . . . she’s lonely.”
“Not a word I’d use to describe her,” Brooke said slowly. “But I suppose you’d know better.”
He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “She has plenty of friends. And me, of course. But even when she was young, Maya was always one of those people who flocks to others. Not because she needs them; she just likes them. She gets her energy from those around her—specifically, from people who love her.”
“And you don’t think Neil Garrett is that guy?”
“Honestly?” he said, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m not even sure Neil Garrett is Neil Garrett.”
Brooke stiffened. Seth meant his comment off-the-cuff. As far as she knew, he didn’t have a clue about her history with Clay beyond what she’d told him.