The Tycoon's Proposal

by Leigh Michaels

  “I’m the one who doesn’t appreciate heirlooms, remember?” He pulled out his money clip. “Keep the quilt. How much do you need?” He peeled a couple of bills out of his money clip.

  “Not that much. And I’ll consider the quilt to be security for my debt.”

  “I suppose I’ll end up hiring you just so I can garnish your wages instead of ending up the owner of a quilt I don’t want,” Kurt grumbled.

  She folded the money and pushed it deep into the pocket of her jeans. She should be feeling relieved that he hadn’t made it hard on her, she thought. And yet…she knew that he’d read her mind and knew perfectly well what she was thinking. She’d expected him to proposition her in return for the loan. More in a teasing way than as a serious suggestion, of course. Instead, he’d shifted course like an America’s Cup racer before the wind.

  Because, though teasing her was fun, he wasn’t about to let things get serious. Well, that certainly told her where she stood.

  Kurt looked past her and stifled a groan.

  Lissa looked over her shoulder to see Mindy and Ray coming toward them.

  Mindy kissed the air in the vicinity of Lissa’s cheek and sidled up to Kurt. “I’ve never been in one of your stores before,” she gushed. “But I should have expected it would be just like you—you’re so big and strong and impressive and solid.”

  And looking slightly sick to the stomach at the moment, Lissa would have added.

  “I’m dying to try the climbing wall,” Mindy went on.

  I’ll just bet you are.

  “In fact, it took us so long to find you that by the time I get into my gear it’ll be my turn on the wall. Would you like to come and join me?”

  To her amazement, Lissa realized that it wasn’t Kurt whom Mindy was inviting, but her.

  “The guys can watch us,” Mindy went on.

  “Sorry,” Lissa said. “I have some shopping to do. In fact, I must be going—goodness, is that the time? I’ll see you all later. I know—maybe we should all go out for dinner one night.”

  She couldn’t stop herself from looking over her shoulder as she walked away. Kurt was watching her.

  No doubt he was renewing his vow to strangle her, she thought, and with her good humor restored, she went off to look for the first item on Hannah’s list.

  Kurt watched as Lissa walked off. The vintage coat she wore was oversized for her, but it did nothing to hide her femininity. The coat swayed along with her hips, every bit as intriguingly as if she’d been wearing a fancy ballgown with a hoop skirt, and he’d bet that she knew it. At the very least she obviously realized he was watching her, for she not only looked back at him, but actually had the nerve to wink just before she went out of sight between two racks of fishing equipment.

  Now, there’s a fitting description, Kurt thought. She’s just one more lure, mixed in with the rest of the bait.

  Except he knew better. She wasn’t just one more lure. She was the top of the line.

  He’d known from the beginning that Lissa Morgan was trouble. Even before he’d actually recognized her he’d realized that much. And why he hadn’t had the sense to run….

  You did run, he reminded himself. Well—almost. It wasn’t your idea for her to actually move in.

  Still, he could have kept his distance. Instead, he’d managed to get himself even more entangled as the days went on. What had he been thinking?

  Either she would succeed in her mission, and he would owe her an apartment, or she wouldn’t—which meant she’d probably be hanging around Gran’s house whenever he happened to be in Minneapolis. He wasn’t sure which was worse. Her staying at the house, he supposed. Because he could rent her an apartment, pay for it in advance, and never set foot in it. Except he had his doubts it would be quite that easy to avoid her.

  Because you don’t want it to be easy, his conscience whispered.

  Ever since Lissa had made that crack yesterday about the possibility of them having an affair, he hadn’t been able to get the idea out of his mind. Not that he hadn’t had a few unseemly thoughts even before that—but having his grandmother in the bedroom just under his had kept those pretty much under control. But the idea of an apartment, where the neighbors didn’t care and there was no elderly bright-eyed woman to wonder what was going on…. Yes, as fantasies went, that one was a whole lot more interesting.

  Mindy was watching him, he realized, with her eyes narrowed. Well, if she’d gotten the message that he was too interested in Lissa to pay attention to her that was all to the good. Especially because he hadn’t had to say it, or do anything much to create the image. Or even talk Lissa into cooperating.

  “Yes?” he said, as if he was having to pull himself back from a far country. “You said you’d reserved a climbing time? You’d better not take a chance of missing it. There’s usually a waiting list for cancellations.”

  “I’ll stick around,” Ray offered. “I’d like to talk to you, Kurt.”

  “Sorry, I’m busy right now, or I’d love to chat. And you don’t want to miss Mindy on the climbing wall—I bet it’ll be quite a show.” He shook hands with Ray.

  “You mentioned dinner,” Mindy said abruptly.

  I didn’t, Kurt wanted to point out. Lissa did—and that’s an entirely different thing.

  “It’s a lovely idea, Kurt. Let’s do it tonight. You’re free, right, Ray?”

  The question was careless, as if Ray’s main responsibility was to be at Mindy’s command. It didn’t surprise Kurt that she’d want an extra man hanging around. The Mindys of the world were like that. But they usually weren’t quite so obvious about it. Surely she didn’t think Kurt would be jealous? Or perhaps she was just making sure that he realized that she wasn’t serious about Ray. As if it would make a difference to him whether she was or not.

  “Dinner?” Mindy said again.

  “I’ll have to check whether Lissa’s made other plans, so—”

  “It was her idea,” Mindy pointed out.

  And I’m going to get her for it, too. “Dinner,” he agreed. “You choose the place.”

  Mindy named a restaurant. “They have the best lobster Newburgh I’ve ever eaten, and they can always fit me in with a reservation.”

  “Fine,” Kurt said. “We’ll pick you up at seven.” Then he went back to staring at the computer terminal—not studying the inventory this time, but figuring out how to get even with Lissa for landing him with Mindy and Ray for an entire evening.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  FILLING HANNAH’S SHOPPING list wasn’t the end of the job, of course. When she got home, Lissa found her employer at the small table in the middle of the library, humming a carol as she wrapped boxes. “Oh, good, you can take over,” Hannah said. “I believe my ankles are swelling, so it’s past time for a break.”

  Lissa stacked her purchases neatly at the end of the table. “Swollen ankles? You assured me you’d see a doctor, Hannah.”

  “And I will. But swollen ankles are nothing unusual for me.”

  “This week.”

  “Well, I don’t know when I’ll be able to go in. It’ll be hard to get an appointment right now—with the holiday so close, you know.” Hannah nodded firmly, as if to deny there could be any disagreement with her point of view, and went off.

  Relatively sure that—having gotten the last word—Hannah wouldn’t come back for a while, Lissa wrapped her gift first. It was a small package, and she took particular care that it be beautiful.

  She had done almost no Christmas shopping for years—student budgets being what they were, she and her friends had long ago opted to give themselves a present by making Christmas a gift-free zone. It was funny, though, how quickly the knack came back—folding the heavy paper to make a crisp crease, keeping everything square and tight, curling the ribbon and adding just the right color bow to finish off the presentation. The stack of wrapped boxes grew steadily.

  She made a trip to the living room to deposit the finished gifts under the tree, and real
ized that instead of sitting with her feet up Hannah was in the dining room, digging in the bottom of a built-in cabinet. The table was already stacked with old-fashioned pink vinyl cases—some round, some square.

  Lissa went in to see what was going on. One of the cases had been unzipped and the top folded back. She peeked in to see a stack of glossy china plates—the color of heavy cream, rimmed with gold, with a soft pattern of pink roses at the edges.

  They’d been using china for every meal—no inexpensive pottery for Hannah—but nothing to compare with this. “It’s beautiful,” Lissa said.

  “It’s my wedding china. I don’t use it often, but I wanted to get it out for Christmas.”

  Lissa had no trouble hearing the part Hannah hadn’t said. Since it might be the last time.

  Hannah sighed. “I’d forgotten how much of it there is, and how much room it takes. I don’t know what I’ll do with all this.”

  Lissa looked at the long table, almost covered with vinyl cases. There must be enough china laid out there to serve sixteen—and it looked as if Hannah had all the extra pieces as well. She saw soup plates, serving bowls, coffeepots, cunning little covered dishes, even a cake stand. Hannah was quite right; there would not be room in the average retirement apartment for half of this.

  But the answer was obvious—wasn’t it? “I’m sure Kurt will want it,” Lissa said. “After all, it’s a family heirloom.”

  Hannah gave a genteel little snort. “Kurt lives in a shoebox,” she said tartly. “And his idea of a nice plate is what you buy in the freezer section of the supermarket with the food already on it. He has no room or desire for anything sentimental.”

  “He won’t always feel that way,” Lissa argued. “He’ll settle down someday.”

  “May I live so long. After the way his parents—” Hannah broke off. “It’s been sixty years since I chose this pattern, and I haven’t broken so much as a nut dish. Take my advice, Lissa—when you buy your china, get extras of everything. It’s almost a guarantee that you’ll never drop a single piece.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Lissa said dryly. When you buy your china…. As if that day would come anytime soon. She let the silence drag out until she couldn’t bear it anymore, and then she tried to keep her voice casual. “What were you saying about Kurt’s parents?”

  Hannah didn’t look up from the china. “Hmm? Oh, nothing—I was just talking to myself. Perhaps you’re right. Someday he’ll slow down enough to notice that women aren’t just for entertainment, and material things aren’t just junk.”

  The sadness which underlaid Hannah’s tart tone tugged at Lissa’s heart. But her sympathy was mixed with another sensation—the knowledge that, no matter how kindly Hannah was treating her and no matter how generous she was, she didn’t consider Lissa to be anything more than an employee after all. She certainly wasn’t like family.

  And I never expected to be.

  Still, it was a lesson worth remembering. It would be far too easy to forget her real place here, to believe that Hannah’s kind treatment made Lissa something special, when in fact Hannah treated everyone that way.

  “Sometimes,” Hannah said softly, “it seems like it’s just too much work to do this.”

  Here’s your chance, Lissa told herself. “You don’t have to do it all yourself, you know.”

  “Oh, my dear, I realize what a help you’ve been. I couldn’t possibly have gotten so far in just a few days without you.”

  But we’ve barely scratched the surface, Lissa thought. “I don’t mean me. There are auction companies—they’ll come in and clear everything out, make arrangements—”

  “And sell it all to the highest bidder.”

  There was no gentler way to put it. “Well, yes.”

  Hannah shook her head. “I hate the thought of an auction. All that sing-song talk, people yelling bids and pawing through things, hoping to get a bargain, dealers just wanting to make a profit….”

  “You wouldn’t have to be there to see it.”

  “I’d know it was going on.”

  Lissa considered, and then said carefully, “If it’s the idea of an auction that bothers you, I’ve read about companies that offer tag sales instead. You could go ahead and move, and then they’d just take over the house and have a sort of gigantic garage sale of everything that’s left.”

  She was so caught up in the idea that it took her a minute to realize that Hannah had gone even quieter than usual. “No,” she said firmly. “Giving my belongings away is one thing, especially when they go to someone who needs them or who will appreciate them. But selling them—no. I couldn’t stand to put a price tag on my china.”

  “I understand,” Lissa said. “I have some precious things of my own. Like a quilt my grandmother had just finished when she died.”

  “Really? I’d like to see it.”

  Lissa wondered if that was true, or if Hannah was grasping at any way to change the subject. “I’ll bring it down later, if you like.”

  “What about right now? I’m at a standstill here, and I’m ready for a glass of sherry.”

  In truth, Lissa was glad to escape for a minute. She needed a break from the weight of emotion in the room every bit as much as Hannah did.

  Kurt was coming in the side door as Lissa started up the stairs. She leaned over the bannister and beckoned to him, and as he came closer she caught the fragrance of his aftershave. The scent—along with the memories it evoked of the way he’d kissed her yesterday—made her almost dizzy. She clung to the bannister. “Whatever you do, don’t suggest she auction off the china,” she said under her breath. “In fact, if you’re smart, you’ll tell her you’re wild about her china, you always have been, and you can’t wait to own it.”

  Kurt looked up at her as if she’d been speaking Swahili. “You mean those dishes with the pink cabbage leaves on them?”

  “It’s Havilland china, and they’re roses.”

  “Never saw a rose that looked like that before. What’s been going on?”

  “Let’s just say that my suggestion of an auctioneer didn’t go over well. I’ll tell you later. We don’t want her thinking we’re conspiring.”

  “Even though we are? Relax—she’ll just think we’re flirting in the dark corners.”

  Lissa remembered the almost-sharp way Hannah had looked at her, and the way she’d dodged Lissa’s question about Kurt’s parents. “I don’t think that would be much better,” she muttered and went on upstairs.

  By the time she came back, with the quilt in her arms, Kurt had poured his grandmother a sherry and had one waiting for Lissa as well. “I don’t like what all this work is doing to you, Gran,” he was saying as Lissa came in. “You look worried…awfully stressed. I talked to a friend who’s in real estate today.”

  Lissa stopped in mid-step. With her hands full, she couldn’t exactly wave her arms to get his attention, and jumping up and down would be a bit obvious. At any rate, he wasn’t watching her; he was too intent on his mission.

  “He’d like to come and take a look at the house sometime,” Kurt went on. “He could give you an idea of what it might bring on the market, and then you’d have a better idea of—”

  “No, thank you, Kurt.” Hannah set her sherry glass down with a thump that threatened to shatter the crystal stem. “I need to speak to Janet for a moment. Excuse me, please.”

  “Well, that was certainly a brilliant stroke of diplomacy,” Lissa said. She dropped the quilt in a heap at the end of the couch and planted her hands on her hips.

  Kurt’s jaw had sagged. He stared after Hannah for a moment, then turned to Lissa. “What did I say that was so awful?”

  “You told her that you think the easiest way to get rid of everything she owns is to sell it to the highest bidder.”

  “Well, it is,” he said defensively.

  “You know that, and I know that—but it’s not just stuff we’re talking about here. It’s her memories. And since I just made the same mistake a few min
utes ago….”

  Kurt snapped his fingers and grinned. “I knew if I waited long enough, this would turn out to be your fault!”

  “Thanks. I appreciate you giving me so much credit. Did you at least tell her you want her china?”

  “What in the hell would I do with her china? Use it for target practice?”

  “Are you trying to cause her a heart attack? Never mind.” Lissa sank down beside the quilt, one fingertip absently tracing the wheel-like pattern.

  “Is that my quilt?”

  Lissa bristled. “Your quilt? I didn’t sell it to you. In fact, you said you didn’t want it.”

  “I’m coming to terms with the reality of the situation.” He stretched out a hand. “I couldn’t remember what it looked like.”

  “Too bad I didn’t realize that—I could have substituted a less meaningful one and you’d never have known the difference. Anyway, I’ll pay the loan back, Kurt—so don’t get attached to my quilt. Did Mindy convince you to go climbing with her?”

  “She didn’t invite me.”

  “Really? Oh, I guess that makes sense. You could get a much better view of her figure from the ground than if you were up there with her, especially if she was wearing a skintight bodysuit. Was she?”

  “Probably. I didn’t go and watch, either. I figured dinner tonight was enough time to spend paying attention to Mindy.”

  “Dinner? She actually went for the bait?”

  “It was your idea, Lissa.”

  “Kurt, she knew perfectly well it was a let’s-do-lunch sort of invitation—you know, the kind of thing you say when you absolutely don’t mean it. Oh, I suppose she arranged it to be just the two of you? Poor Ray. Have a good time.”

  “I said we’d pick them up at seven.”

  “We?”

  “You’re not getting out of this, Lissa. You’re going to dinner, too.”

  Hannah had come back in. “A dinner date? Who’s going?”

  “Ray and Mindy, Lissa and me.”

  Lissa saw her chance and seized it. “Unless you object, Hannah?” she said smoothly. “It’s awfully late notice to leave you on your own, and I wouldn’t want to hurt Janet’s feelings by walking out on the meal she’s prepared.”