Texas Tycoon's Christmas Fiancée

by Sara Orwig

  She wished she could shake Nick out of her thoughts, hoped even more that she would never see him again.

  When she entered her small ground-floor apartment, she greeted her aunt, who was babysitting Michael.

  Dressed in a gown and robe, Clara Wayland brushed brown hair away from her sleepy green eyes. “How was it?”

  “The job went well. He seemed pleased.”

  “And?”

  “And I have an appointment with him at my office Monday morning. Otherwise, I’m as uninformed as ever about what he wants. Well, maybe I know a little more, since I’ve actually met him. I’ll tell you about it after I change clothes and look in on Michael. How was he tonight?”

  “An angel. A happy baby who went to sleep about nine.”

  “I’ve missed him.”

  “You always do,” her aunt said as Grace went into her bedroom, shedding clothes and changing into cotton pajamas and a robe. She tiptoed over to look at the crib, fighting the urge to pick up the sleeping baby and hold him in her arms. A chill gripped her. There could be no good reason Nick Rafford wanted to meet her. None. She didn’t want him near Michael. She gazed at the baby, so aware of the startling resemblance to Nick. She leaned down to brush Michael’s cheek with a light kiss and caught a whiff of baby powder. “You’re mine now, sweetie. Not the Raffords’,” she whispered.

  She rejoined Clara, who had fixed cups of hot chocolate. “Monday morning, you can call your lawyer to go with you,” Clara said.

  “I won’t need a lawyer to just talk to the man. Tonight is the first we’ve met.”

  Clara sighed. “I need to remember that you won’t let him intimidate you or frighten you into doing something you don’t have to do.”

  “I don’t think that will happen,” Grace said. “He was courteous. Obviously, he wants something concerning Michael. He hired my catering service to scope me out.”

  “Don’t borrow trouble,” Clara said.

  “When Bart Rafford kicked Alicia out, he didn’t want anything to do with his baby. He denied the baby was his. I can’t imagine the jet-setting multimillionaire uncle has any interest in Michael. His brother never did and since Bart wasn’t killed until Michael was three months old, he had time to meet his son if he’d wanted.”

  “Does the uncle have a wife and children?” Clara asked.

  “No. Nick is single,” Grace said, remembering his dark brown eyes on her as he grasped her hand in their handshake. “He’s in society pages, so that’s how I know he isn’t married. He’s busy and has a reputation as shrewd in business. From what Alicia told me, at that time, the grandfather had no interest in Michael and I’ve heard the grandfather’s health has failed lately. An ailing grandfather, a single uncle—those are the only relatives. I can’t figure out what, but they want something from me concerning Michael. I’ll learn what it is on Monday morning.”

  “Please call me the first chance you get. I’ll be worried about you.”

  “Don’t fret,” Grace said, smiling at Clara. “Legally, Michael is mine.”

  “Grace, the Raffords have an enormous fortune. You wouldn’t stand a chance of stopping them if they—”

  “Don’t think about it,” Grace said.

  “You’re right.” Clara smiled. “I think I’ll turn in. I wish you’d sleep in your room and let me take the sofa here.”

  “I’m fine. Thanks for staying tonight.”

  “I love to see Michael. You’re the daughter I never had. My boys are scattered and still single—Chet in Germany. Miles in Japan. I’ve given up on my own grandkids, but thank goodness I can be with Michael.”

  “Chet sent you plane tickets and you’ll be in Germany with him for Christmas.”

  “That’s not like having them here,” Clara said. “I worry about leaving you and Michael alone for Christmas.”

  “Don’t be silly. You’ll have a wonderful time and Glenda is already lined up to babysit Michael for me. I don’t worry when he’s with either one of you.”

  “She’s reliable and she loves him, too. Glenda and I have been friends since we were five years old. She’s like a sister to me,” Clara said, repeating what Grace had heard many times before.

  “Her family is coming Christmas day, so that’s worked out,” Clara added. She smiled at Grace. “Thank heavens I have you and Michael. I count my blessings every day.” Clara hugged Grace and headed for her room. At the door she paused. “Bart Rafford killed in a ski accident. You wonder what would have happened had he lived.”

  “I suspect it would have been just the same as it is now.”

  “He never saw his son.” Shaking her head, Clara left.

  In minutes Grace was stretched beneath covers on the sofa. She lay in the dark, thinking about Nick’s party, going back to the first moments, now etched in her memory. She couldn’t forget Nick or anything about him. Nor could she keep from worrying about his purpose in seeing her. She wasn’t giving up Michael no matter what, but the Rafford money and Nick’s reputation as a ruthless, shrewd businessman worried her.

  At nine Monday morning Nick was ushered into Grace’s narrow, plain office. Looking dynamic, he dominated the space. Was it his take-charge attitude or his mere physical presence that sped up her heart rate? When she looked into his eyes, a current zinged to her toes. He was sinfully handsome and it was easy to see why women were drawn to him. She had watched him Friday night, occasionally hearing conversations as she passed him, and knew he could turn on the charm. With an effort she tore her gaze from his dark eyes.

  As he glanced around, she became acutely conscious of her office with its cramped space and old furniture in the aging building. She operated on a shoestring, yet her business was growing, a plus, she reminded herself constantly.

  “Good morning,” she said, greeting Nick without offering her hand.

  “Good morning,” he replied, giving her a faint smile. “Red becomes you.”

  “Thank you,” she replied. She was certain the compliment rolled off his tongue without thought, yet she couldn’t keep from being pleased. He extended the envelope that had contained her bill and she guessed it was her payment.

  “Here’s for the party. You did a bang-up job and there were a lot of compliments on the food. You should get more bookings from my friends.” His hand was well shaped, his fingers long, his white shirt cuffs hiding his wrists.

  “Thank you. Some guests asked for my card. I appreciate the opportunity of your business,” she replied. Approval would have been satisfying from any other customer, but his solemn expression and the intensity of his dark eyes took away pleasure. His presence screamed a mission. “Please have a seat.”

  He sat in one of the small chairs and she pulled one around to face him, too aware of his proximity. Unsettling, he threatened her well-being. Adding to his overpowering presence, his thickly lashed dark brown eyes were piercing.

  “I’ve come to talk about Michael.”

  She drew a quick breath. “From the first I figured that was why you wanted to meet.”

  “That’s right. My father is in poor health. In the past year he’s had two heart attacks. Illness has changed his outlook on life. He’d like to meet you and Michael.”

  Her heart lurched and she locked her fingers together as she fought a sense of panic. The Raffords’ power loomed. She imagined that the father was even more formidable than the son because of his years developing influential friends. Taking a quick breath, she attempted to maintain a calm demeanor.

  “Are you aware that your brother signed away his rights to Michael?”

  “That’s what I’ve been told.”

  “He did that in the last weeks of Alicia’s life. She tried to get everything lined up so Michael would be financially provided for and have a guardian until he’s grown. I can’t imagine your father simply wants to see the baby. I’d guess there’s more to it than that,” she added, hoping for a denial. When Nick didn’t give one immediately, her dread increased.

  “He doesn’
t intend to take Michael from you, but he wants to get acquainted with his grandson,” Nick said. “I’ll repeat—illness has changed my father’s values. His grandson has become important to him. I’d like to arrange a meeting and it would be easier on my dad if you could get together at his house,” Nick continued. Her gaze dropped to his mouth and slightly sensual lower lip. What would it be like to feel those lips against hers?

  Startled by her train of thoughts, she returned to the moment. She could not keep from having a faint glimmer of hope from Nick’s remarks. “If your father is that frail, he surely can’t want Michael in his life much of the time. It doesn’t sound as if he is in any shape to care for a baby.”

  “He’s not, but he can afford to hire care. Frankly, while you have a growing, successful business,” Nick said, glancing around her office, which she could imagine he was contrasting with his own and his father’s, “my father can do much more financially for Michael than you can.”

  “Money really isn’t everything,” she replied. Her chill intensified. Nick sat relaxed, looking as if he was the one in charge. His tone of voice carried a note of steel, indicating she could be in for a bitter, ugly fight with a powerful man. “I love Michael and when I’m not with him, my aunt, or her closest friend, keeps him. My flexible schedule allows me to spend a lot of hours with Michael. Did your parents spend hours with you?”

  “Touché,” Nick said with a trace of amusement. “No, they did not.”

  “I’ve read about you and your father in the society pages of the paper and local magazines. Your father has had several marriages and many women in his life. It was the same for your brother when he was alive. Who did you spend the most time with—nannies?”

  “Nannies, the chauffeur, boarding school,” Nick replied, confirming her guess. She wondered about his life and could see how his relationships might be shallow and brief. Some people would envy Nick’s childhood, but she thought it was inadequate. She didn’t want Michael to grow up in any such manner.

  “Face the facts, you’re limited in the life you can provide for Michael,” Nick stated. “You should give some thought to what you’re turning down here. My dad wants me to set up a meeting where he can talk to you about Michael. Just talk. You should be willing to do that, because there is nothing threatening in meeting. Far from it,” Nick added, self-assurance lacing his tone. He remained at ease, as if assured of the outcome of this conversation.

  She bristled. “Your brother wanted nothing to do with his baby. Where was your father at that time?”

  “I’ve told you, my father is a changed man.”

  “This transformation is a little late and it’s difficult for me to believe he’s actually changed. Michael’s mother, Alicia Vaughan, was my best friend my entire life. Before she died, she told me about Bart. When she was pregnant, your brother was blunt and coldhearted with Alicia. The last time Alicia saw him, he called her foul names while insisting he wanted nothing to do with ‘her brat.’ He sent her on her way in tears in a rainstorm. That night was when she had the wreck that eventually ended her life. She almost lost Michael because of the wreck. After what occurred, I can’t see any reason to take Michael to your father.”

  Nick leaned forward, placing his arms on his knees, his navy suit jacket falling open. A gold cuff link glinted in the light. He was close, distracting her with fleeting thoughts about how handsome he was. She found it difficult to get her breath, impossible to resist looking again at his mouth. What was the man like when he was not on a mission? She had seen glimpses of that last night.

  “My father has aged a lot in the past year. He’s in failing health—I think he’s hanging on for Christmas and he wants to see his grandson. Can’t you at least meet with him? What harm could there be in that? You need to think about this, because you might be a lot better off and the baby certainly would. My father is enormously wealthy. Don’t cut Michael off from a better life.”

  The words were persuasive, as well as the man. She felt a flutter of sympathy that vanished when she remembered Alicia sobbing in the hospital bed, hooked to tubes, hanging on to life. At the same time Michael, who was delivered a month early because of the car wreck, had been in neonatal intensive care. All caused in part because of how cold and harsh Bart Rafford had been to her friend.

  “Michael was orphaned because of your brother. Alicia begged him to recognize his son. He could have said no without being hurtful about it. I see no point in taking Michael to visit your father. He’s had his chance to have the baby in his life. He could have come forward when Alicia was pregnant or right after that last time she saw Bart.”

  Grace stood and Nick came to his feet immediately. She was aware of his height and that aura about him conveying his control. He stood close to her, and once again she was more conscious of Nick than anything else. His features were impassive and she had no idea whether he was irritated, disappointed or mapping his next move.

  “Just because my brother was hurtful doesn't mean you should be. If you’re frightened about Michael, don’t be. My father can’t take him from you, because he’s not well enough to do so.”

  “I think I’ve made my feelings clear,” she said, unable to get Alicia out of her mind or stop worrying that while Eli Rafford wasn’t well, he was a man who had enough power to achieve his goals.

  “You can live with your conscience over your decision?”

  “Better than I could if I agreed to take Alicia’s baby to see your father. Does he have any idea how cruel his son was to my friend? Or does he just want Michael in his life and he doesn’t care what happened to Alicia? Bart used her and then discarded her.”

  “I think most women my brother ‘used’ were extremely willing as well as pleased at the time,” Nick remarked drily, stirring Grace’s indignation “Your friend wasn’t forced to have an affair with him.”

  “She realized what a mistake she had made.” Grace stepped away from Nick to head toward the door. “I think we’ve finished our conversation.”

  “Don’t be so quick to toss away Michael’s future. Suppose this catering business doesn’t last? Then what?” Nick asked, honing in on her deep fear. “You know how to reach me if you change your mind,” he said. As far as she could tell, he didn’t seem distressed, but she suspected he could easily hide his feelings.

  “I can tell you now—I won’t change my mind.”

  Nick gave her a cool, satisfied smile as if he expected her to capitulate to his wishes. “When you do rethink Michael’s future, just call.” Nick hesitated, his gaze undergoing a subtle change that warmed her. He gave her a glance that caused her heart to skip a beat.

  “Too bad we didn’t meet under other circumstances,” he said in a deeper tone, this time setting her heart racing. As he left, closing the door, she let out her breath.

  “But we didn’t,” she said to no one, surprised by his last remark which, for a brief moment, had taken her away from the problem. How much more difficult it was to deal with the situation when the messenger was a charismatic, sexy man like Nick.

  She felt completely wrung-out, as if she had been sparring with a formidable foe. She didn’t imagine she had seen the last of the Raffords. Men with wealth such as theirs did not accept defeat easily.

  Was she cutting Michael off from a myriad of marvelous opportunities that Eli Rafford could provide? That was exactly what had sent Alicia to see Bart. Would Alicia have jumped at this chance and think Grace was being a poor guardian? Grace simply feared the Rafford patriarch would take Michael from her, but she needed to give Nick’s request more consideration before she totally slammed the door on the Raffords. Eli Rafford could insure Michael’s future. After a few days, it still wouldn’t be too late to contact Nick and agree to his wishes.

  The thought chilled her more.

  She wanted no part of Eli Rafford and she couldn’t imagine that he merely intended to see Michael a few times. She suspected he wanted his small grandson. And he would want to give him the life he had
given Nick—nannies, chauffeurs and boarding schools. As far as she was concerned, she could give Michael vastly more because he would have her loving care and attention.

  She walked around her desk and looked up her attorney’s phone number, afraid she would need help to fight this battle. Frightened and concerned, she was certain it wasn’t over and that she had not seen the last of Nick.

  Two

  Nick drove his black sports car away from the strip mall where Grace rented space for her office. Relief dominated his feelings as he glanced at his watch. His lunch appointment with his closest friends would get his mind off this problem for the time being.

  Jake and Tony were already waiting and soon Gabe Benton joined them. Over hamburgers, Nick realized the lunch was not pushing his problem out of mind.

  “Nick, I don’t think you heard a word I said,” Jake stated.

  “Sorry,” Nick answered. “It’s Dad and what he wants. Long story, but the three of you know about the baby that might be Bart’s. Dad has a bee in his bonnet about getting the baby into the Rafford family.”

  “And that’s not what the baby’s guardian wants,” Tony guessed.

  “Money talks. I can’t imagine your dad hasn’t made her an offer or had you make her an offer,” Jake remarked. “That’s the usual MO for all our dads.”

  “She’s not interested.”

  “Is this the new caterer you had?” Tony asked.

  “As a matter of fact, yes.”

  “Simple. Just marry her,” Jake suggested with a twinkle in his eyes.

  Nick gave him a look. “I’m not marrying anyone to get something for Dad. I’m not marrying for years, period. All you guys will be married before I am.”

  “The hell you say,” Tony replied. “Name your price, I’ll bet you’re married first.”

  Nick relaxed, enjoying the good-natured exchange and getting his mind off his problem. “I will be the last. One million in the pot.”