by Sara Orwig
“Yes. I have a condo in Houston. I have a home in Colorado and a ranch in West Texas. I lead a relatively unpretentious life.”
“It sounds as if you do,” she remarked drily. “Yachts, businesses, women, houses, condos. So simple.”
“Modest compared to what I could do if I wanted to.”
They wound up the driveway that gave a full view of the front of the mansion and he heard Grace’s intake of breath. “This is a castle. Who lives here besides your father?”
“His staff, which now includes his nurses. There are currently two who live here and they take different shifts. I detect worry in your voice.”
“How can I fight this?” she said.
“Perhaps you won’t have to,” he declared, but the words carried a hollow ring. His dad would fight with his whole being to get this child declared a Rafford.
He hoped that when Grace saw the house and met his father, she would come to her senses and realize what Eli could do for Michael. And now, Nick thought his father would do more. The two wills plagued Nick constantly. More than ever, he felt he had to get Grace to cooperate as quickly as possible before his father got really attached to Michael.
At the moment, Nick wanted to gnash his teeth in frustration. Grace had to capitulate. He reminded himself that she had so far.
He pulled to a stop in front, wanting to take Grace through the most impressive entrance. The more awed she was, the more cooperative she might become. He pulled out his cell phone. “Just a minute, Grace. Let me talk to the nurse and maybe Dad.”
He made the call, giving her time to take in her surroundings, the vast wings of the house, the massive statuary and fountains in front, the immaculate flower beds with an array of colorful winter plants.
When he finished, he put away the phone. “Well, let’s go introduce Michael to his grandfather. Michael will never know the storm swirling around him.”
“I hope not. And I hope I survive it.”
“You will,” Nick said, wondering if she could be rethinking her stand on keeping Michael out of the Rafford family.
Nick stepped out to open her door and pick up Michael. He took Grace’s arm. “My dad’s no ogre in spite of the wild tales about his business deals.”
“I think you’re talking about yourself there.”
He chuckled as they crossed to the massive door. He heard the chimes and then the door swung open.
Five
As the door swung open and a butler faced them, intimidation enveloped Grace. She was certain that was the intention of Nick and his father. She couldn’t imagine anyone ever reaching a point where they took this magnificence and wealth for granted. She reminded herself that Nick had been born into it.
“Good evening, Mr. Rafford. Your father is waiting.” The butler glanced down at the baby in the carrier, and Grace heard his swift intake of breath, but his expression didn’t change.
They stepped into a mammoth marble hallway where Nick set the baby carrier on a side table. The hall ceiling soared three floors, and an enormous crystal chandelier hung above her head. Ahead, two staircases wound up to the next level.
“I’ll get Michael from his carrier now and take his jacket off,” she said, busying herself. Her fingers were cold and stiff and she dreaded the meeting with Eli Rafford. She wished now she had never succumbed to Nick’s charm or agreed to anything involving him, although she suspected it wouldn’t have stopped Nick or his father and it might have made matters worse.
She picked up Michael, holding him close, wanting to keep him in her arms and never hand him over to Nick or his dad.
“Ready?” Nick asked, and she nodded, raising her chin and hoping she looked far more calm and self-assured than she felt.
Along the hall they passed open doors on rooms with magnificent furnishings. How could one frail man live in this mansion? She suspected the staff was huge.
He stopped in front of a closed door. “Dad’s in here. Grace, I’m going to tell him we’re here. I think Michael will really surprise my father and I don’t want to give his heart too big a jolt.”
“Of course,” she said, and waited. Nick reappeared and motioned to her, taking her arm and walking her into the room.
“Grace, I want you to meet my father, Eli Rafford. And this is his nurse Megan Sayer. Dad, Megan, meet Grace Wayland and Michael.”
The tall brown-eyed man standing beside a wing chair smiled at her. “Thank you for coming and bringing Michael, Miss Wayland,” he said in a strong voice. He didn’t look as infirm as she had envisioned from Nick’s description. “I appreciate it very much.”
The petite nurse standing nearby gave her a friendly smile. “He’s been looking forward to this for quite a while.”
As she greeted both of them, Grace crossed the room on a thick Oriental rug. “Here’s Michael, Mr. Rafford,” she said.
He looked at the baby and she saw his eyes narrow. “He is you,” Eli said, glancing at Nick and then back to the baby. Eli sat in the chair. “That’s an uncanny resemblance. He looks like your son, Nick. May I hold him, Miss Wayland?”
“Yes, of course. Please call me Grace.”
“He does look like you, Nick,” Megan said as she spread a baby blanket over Eli’s lap and Grace walked forward to give Michael to his grandfather.
“My grandson,” Eli Rafford said, and there was no mistaking the awe in his voice. “This is my grandson.”
Grace noted that Eli seemed to have a firm grip on Michael, and Megan stood close at hand. Michael played with the buttons on Eli’s sweater while he babbled.
“He’s happy,” Megan said.
“He’s a wonderful baby,” Grace added.
“Have a seat, Grace,” Nick said. “Let’s have something to drink. Want pop or a cup of hot tea or coffee?”
“I’ll have hot tea,” Grace replied, sitting in a chair near Eli. She handed Michael one of his toys, which he promptly began to chew.
“He’s adorable,” Megan said. “The resemblance to you is amazing, Nick. He could pass for your son. I’ll see about your drinks,” she said, crossing the room to an intercom.
“I’m trying to get used to the resemblance,” Nick said, sitting across from her.
“I’m so pleased,” Eli said, smiling broadly. “I don’t know that much about babies. I’ll let you have him back, but what a thrill this is. Would you allow me to have a photographer take a picture of Michael with Nick and me?”
“Of course,” Grace replied, guessing that was probably the beginning of a lot of requests.
“I would treasure it. I can’t tell you what pleasure you have given me by allowing me to get to know Michael. Nick, I can’t believe this child doesn’t belong to you.”
“It gave me a shock to see him, too,” Nick said.
As both men looked at Michael, Grace’s worries deepened. Eli’s expression was the same as he might convey to a beloved relative even though he had never seen Michael before today. The wonder in Nick’s eyes equally upset her. There would be no turning back now. Michael would be drawn into this family in spite of her efforts to avoid any contact. She had contemplated taking Michael and moving away, but her business was growing with repeat clientele. And from Alicia’s dealings with the hostile Raffords, she had never thought they would be a problem. Now worries grew with each encounter.
“As I understand from Nick, you are in the catering business and your aunt takes care of Michael a lot of the time.”
“Yes. I’ve been fortunate and Aunt Clara adores Michael. She has no grandchildren and she considers Michael a grandchild,” Grace said, hoping to convey how much a part of her life and her aunt’s Michael was.
“Nick wanted me to promise to keep this conversation simple and not intrude on your care of Michael, but I would like to offer to set up a small account that you can use for whatever you need for him.”
“Dad, we agreed to avoid this today,” Nick reminded his father.
“That’s fine, Nick,” she said quickly. “
I appreciate your offer, Mr. Rafford,” she said to avoid an argument. She had no intention of using Rafford money to care for Michael.
“Excellent! And you must call me Eli. I can’t physically do much with a baby. I never did as much as I should have with my own sons, but there are other ways to play a part in his life. Also, I had my secretary get Michael some toys.” Eli reached behind his chair to pull out a sack and hand to her. “You can give him what is appropriate now and let him have the others when the time is right.”
“Thank you,” she said politely, taking the sack from him to glance at each toy, finding both elaborate, expensive toys as well as simple ones. “Your secretary either knows babies or asked an expert because these are all suitable. Since Michael chews on everything, I’ll wash them before I give them to him. Thank you. I’m certain he’ll have fun.” For a moment she thought of Alicia with a forlorn sense of loss for what her friend would miss, causing her to think again of Bart Rafford and the grief his selfishness had caused.
A staff member brought drinks and a plate of cookies that no one touched while Eli Rafford asked nonintrusive questions about Michael and her business and told her a little about his boys when they were young. Michael stretched out on the blanket with his toys and in a short time was asleep.
“Our conversation doesn’t prevent his napping,” Eli observed.
“He can sleep through most anything,” Grace said, aware of Nick’s gaze on her as they talked. Megan had left and Grace assumed she had been present to make certain her patient didn’t receive too big a shock over Michael.
Grace could see the tall clock standing across the room behind Nick. It was almost two hours later when Michael began to stir. “I think it’s time to take Michael home now,” she said, knowing the baby would be hungry and need to be changed.
“Grace, I can’t tell you what this meeting has meant to me,” Eli said. “I’m so grateful. I know you have a busy schedule, but I hope you will come again and bring Michael with you.”
“I’ll be happy to,” she said, thinking the visit had been easy and in some ways, it seemed right for Michael to be with his grandfather and for Eli Rafford to know his grandson.
“I’m delighted to meet his mother—which you are now and always will be.” He extended his hand and she shook it, feeling a firm grip and looking into dark brown eyes that hid everything as much as Nick’s.
Nick buckled Michael into the carrier and gathered the sack of toys while Eli handed an envelope to Grace. “Inside you’ll find the papers for the account I’ve opened. Everything is there, but if you have questions, feel free to call me. I have too much free time in my life now,” he said. He walked to the door with them and leaned forward to brush a kiss on the top of Michael’s head. He turned to Grace. “Thank you,” he said.
“I’ll see you again, Eli,” she said, certain she couldn’t possibly avoid it. Nick took her arm and they left.
In the car he glanced at her. “Thank you. That meant a lot to my father.”
“Did you know he had opened an account?”
“No, I didn’t, but I wasn’t in the least surprised. I know my dad. He’s manipulative and hell-bent on getting what he’s after. He wants to know Michael. It’s important to him and he thinks in terms of what he can do with money. This is his only grandson. He’ll shower Michael with gifts.”
“I feel as if I’m sinking in quicksand. The quicksand of the Raffords. I catered your party. I’ve spent an evening out with you, have gone to lunch with you, have met your father and let him meet Michael. It keeps growing, Nick, when I didn’t want any part of your family, frankly.”
“We’re not monsters.”
She noticed a muscle worked in his jaw. “No, you’re not, but you both are men accustomed to getting what you want.”
“Was it so bad today?” he asked.
“No, of course not, but I don’t want your father’s money.”
“Don’t turn it down. Take it. He doesn’t need it and you can do something for Michael with it. Don’t hang on to principles and grudges that would keep something good from Michael.”
“I suppose I’m thinking of Alicia, who was closer to me than my sisters.”
“Where are they?”
“Doreen works in Vegas and Tanya in Los Angeles. I haven’t seen them for several years.”
“While Bart and I went our separate ways, we were closer than that.”
“Had your brother been half as receptive as your father, so much heartache could have been avoided and Alicia would still be alive. I can’t keep from thinking about it.”
“And I can’t help what Bart did. Neither can my father. Bart was younger, had a different mother and, frankly, I always thought he was a spoiled brat about a lot of things. In ways we were close but we differed, too. And we looked nothing alike. I can’t get used to the baby’s resemblance to me. He shocks me every time I look at him. The whole world will think he’s mine.”
Nick drove to her apartment, carrying Michael inside. “He’s fallen asleep again,” Nick said, surprise in his voice.
“It was the car ride. He won’t sleep long because it’s past time for him to eat. I didn’t want to get out a bottle at your dad’s and stay to feed Michael.” She glanced at Nick. “Well, you did it, Nick. Now I’ve been to your dad’s and he’s met Michael and he’s definitely in Michael’s life.”
The minute she looked into Nick’s eyes, her knees became jelly. Desire was fire in depths of brown. Her mouth went dry and she felt breathless.
“You want to kiss as much as I do,” he whispered as he stepped forward and slipped his arm around her waist to draw her to him.
She stiffened, because she was crossing another line that she could never undo. And then she was lost to the moment. “Yes,” she whispered, winding an arm around his neck, gazing up at him. “Damn you, Nick, for coming into my life,” she added.
“I’m glad I did.” His mouth came down forcefully, parting her lips as his tongue went possessively into her mouth. Heat flashed like wildfire. She tightened her arm around his neck and kissed him in return, her tongue stroking his and fanning the flames.
He clasped her close against his hard length while his other hand tangled in her hair and removed her clip. Caution vanished, consumed by passion. She thrust her hips against him, moaning softly with pleasure.
“I’ve wanted this since I first saw you,” he whispered, and returned for more, kissing her deeply as he leaned over her and she clung to him.
His hand slid down her back. She wanted him more than ever.
The beat of her heart increased while her breathing became hoarse. Sensation blazed into a roaring inferno.
How long they kissed she didn’t know. When his hand slipped lower, down over her bottom, she had to call a halt. With effort she pulled away, opening her eyes as if drugged. She desired him with an intensity that she had never known before.
“Nick, we need to stop,” she whispered. Her breathing was as ragged as his. His mouth was red from kisses and her lips throbbed. She longed to step back into his embrace and continue what they’d started, but she had to end it now or she would complicate her life badly.
“I want you,” he said, framing her face with his hands.
His words wrapped around her, a statement that rang with feeling. “You want something from me,” she said. “This is about Michael more than you and me.”
“Not this,” Nick denied in a husky tone. “This has nothing to do with family, baby, or anything except a man wanting a desirable, sexy woman.”
His words were a melting caress, creating havoc with her guarded intentions.
“It doesn’t matter whether that’s true or not. Any relationship between us is doomed. Alicia got embroiled with a Rafford and it cost her life. That thought is constantly with me.”
“I’ve said it before—I intend to prove that I’m not Bart.” Nick’s arm slipped around her waist to pull her to him. “I’ll never treat you the way he did Alicia. I want
you in my arms in my bed and I’m determined to get what I want,” he said.
“Sorry, Nick. That isn’t going to happen. Your father will never give up now with Michael, but I’m not getting more deeply involved. Not with you or your family. The Raffords had their chance.”
“I’m not talking about getting what my father wants. Damn it, I want you, Grace.” He swooped down to kiss her again, his arm encircling her instantly and pulling her tightly against him as he kissed her passionately.
She grabbed his upper arms to stop him, but the moment his tongue thrust deeply into her mouth, her rejection transformed into need.
Passion heightened. She wound her fingers in his thick hair at the back of his head while her other hand ran across his broad shoulder. She wanted to touch and feel, kiss and be kissed.
Instead, she broke away. “Nick, stop this. We have no place in our lives for love. None whatsoever,” she said, as if trying to convince herself.
His gaze traveled slowly over her features, weakening her resistance. Gently, he combed strands away from her face.
“You’ll change your mind,” he whispered.
“I can’t,” she replied, hoping she could keep him out of her life. Part of her craved the opposite. She couldn’t succumb because it would be a disaster.
“Thanks again for today,” he said, and turned, pausing to look at the sleeping baby. Then Nick walked out, closing the door quietly behind him.
She stepped to the window to watch him, his long, purposeful strides proclaiming his confidence.
Friday morning Nick called to arrange an afternoon appointment at her office. As they talked, he could feel the coolness in her tone of voice. Finally, she yielded and agreed to see him at her office late in the afternoon.
The moment he strolled through the door, every nerve in his body came alive. Consumed by lust, he had suffered hot, erotic fantasies that tormented him. Efforts to put her out of his mind had failed. Longing streaked in him, heating him, driving his purpose in meeting out of mind.
When their gazes locked, he could feel the sparks and she obviously experienced it, too. And just as apparent, she fought it. She sat in silence behind her desk, a convenient barrier between them.