“I know of a job vacancy that might suit you.”

She opened her eyes and turned her head, still nestled on the leather headrest, to face him, not bothering to hide her suspicion. “You suddenly became Santa Claus?”

“No, I suddenly became in need of a wife.”

She struggled to match Sebastian’s flippancy. “Is that a proposal?”

“Yes.”

The color flared hot and then faded pale in her cheeks as she sat bolt upright and reached for the door handle. “I’m assuming this is some sort of joke. Word to the wise—don’t give up your day job. Stand-up is not your thing.”

“What I am suggesting is a business arrangement.” Only his long fingers silently drumming on the steering wheel suggested he was not as relaxed as he appeared.

Mari’s fingers tightened on the door handle. “Hate is not a good basis for a business arrangement.”

“I’ve factored that in,” he retorted with unimpaired cool. “In public we would act the happy, loved-up couple.”

A hissing sound left her lips. “Marriage. You’re actually talking about marriage—it’s not a sick joke?”