Indecent Proposal by Molly O'Keefe

get.”
    Underneath his polish lurked something wild. And she remembered in painful clarity how she’d felt both menaced and safe that night in his hotel room. How exciting that had been. But there was nothing safe about him now. Nothing at all. He was all menace.
    Harrison took a deep breath and when he smiled at her, she saw a glimmer of Harry. Slightly abashed. Fully human. Reachable. Touchable. More safety than menace.
    A lie. She understood that now. It was a persona he could turn on and off at will. A trick, one that no doubt was highly effective with the voters. It had been highly effective with her.
    “Let me … let me start again,” he murmured, leading her toward the couch. She shrugged away from his touch but sat all the same, because she was feeling weak and awful and the soft edge of her red chenille blanket was a small anchor in her reality.
    He turned toward the sink, got down another of her red teacups, and poured her some more chocolate milk. After handing it to her, he sat on her little square storage ottoman that was full of her running gear. The fan between them blew in the scent of hot asphalt and grilled meat.
    She moaned, low in her throat, turning away from him and the smell and the hot air.
    “I haven’t even asked how you’re feeling,” he whispered, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.
    She put her hand over her flat stomach as if to protect the baby from this man’s duplicity. This Ken Doll withall that hidden grief, his kindness and coldness. She’d come to terms with this baby, had started to find joy in this little life, started to build fantasies about their future. And he was going to pull all that apart. Change it all.
    It was time to get this guy back out of her life.
    “The baby is not yours. This whole thing is moot. You can go.”
    She wanted to press the cool cup to her forehead, but instead she just held it in her hands, meeting his warm gaze with her own hate-filled one.
    “It doesn’t matter, Ryan. It’s only a matter of time before the press finds out you’re pregnant, and you are already linked to me.” She didn’t say anything, staring instead over his shoulder at the copy of Dulcan’s Textbook of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry she’d been so excited to find on a half-price rack at The Strand. “It doesn’t matter whose baby it is.”
    She sniffed and took a sip of milk. “The baby is mine.”
    “What I am suggesting is not a marriage in the typical sense. I am suggesting a proposal. A business arrangement.”
    “If it includes sucking your dick—”
    His head jerked back, his cheeks red. Oh , Harry was embarrassed. She was small enough to be pleased with that.
    “It doesn’t. That … that night will not happen again. It’s not a part of the agreement.”
    “I’m not interested in your agreement.” She stood, but he grabbed her wrist. The warmth of his palm sent something sizzling up her nerves. Something—when he was looking at her like that—that made no sense. She shook off his touch.
    “Let me explain, Ryan. And then I’ll leave and give you a chance to think about it.”
    She sat back down, because it was the quickest way to get rid of him.
    “We will get married as soon as possible. If I win the election, we’ll stay married. If after two years you no longer want to be married—”
    “What about you? Are you saying you might want to be married after two years?”
    “The best thing for my career is if we get married and stay married.”
    “Sounds happy.”
    “I’m not looking for happy. I’m looking for a way to keep doing the work I want to do. But after two years if you want out, we will quietly get divorced after the next election. After which I will buy you a house, anywhere you want. And we will go our separate ways.”
    “And cut all ties? What about the baby?”
    “What about it?”
    She gaped. “What about it? You will have spent two years pretending to be a father and then you just … vanish?”
    “I will