by Cat Schield
In those seconds before he broke off the kiss, the last of her defenses crumbled to dust. Had Nathan noticed? Is that why he’d stopped kissing her? Did he realize that she’d lost the will to deny him? That he’d gotten her right where he wanted her?
She’d been working so hard this last week to keep her emotions separate from the incredible sex. It was getting harder and harder to resist the pull of longing that had nothing to do with how great he was in bed. She was hip-deep in trouble and sinking fast. Soon she’d enjoy being there.
Emma’s hands clenched into fists, but there was no fighting the push and pull of excitement and anxiety that slid through her. She had to make enough money this weekend to escape the trap her father had laid for her. If Nathan was going to own her heart, she wanted to make sure he had to work for it. The only way to get on even footing with him was to take her father’s meddling off the table. Being trussed up like a Christmas turkey and served to Nathan on a silver platter would put her at a distinct disadvantage.
Nathan was a silent, compelling presence beside her as she checked in with the show coordinator. With his help, she found her number on the poster board that displayed the layout of the show.
“I’ve got a great booth,” she told Nathan, her finger on the square she would occupy for the next three days. “Look. It’s on the main aisle and right in the middle of all the action.”
Her enthusiasm must have been contagious because he grinned. “Let’s go see it.”
They struck out across the exhibition hall. Already most of the booths had been set up. An assortment of glass, pottery, metalwork, textiles, jewelry and wall art in a variety of mediums created a jumble of color and texture in the huge space. She’d been juried into this show and she knew the other artists here had been selected for their fine work as well. This was her first foray into the world of one-of-a-kind art, and her emotions overlaid one another, a hodgepodge of excitement and apprehension. So much rode on how she did here this weekend.
Emma slowed as she approached the space she’d been assigned. According to the map, her booth was on this corner. Instead of finding a blank slate, awaiting her personality and vision, the space contained a rather odd collection of sculptures depicting ugly old women in period clothing. On closer inspection, she saw they were made of small beads. While the detail impressed her, Emma couldn’t quite get past the unattractive forms.
“Isn’t this where you’re supposed to be?” Nathan frowned as he surveyed what the area contained.
“Yes.”
Her earlier excitement faded. Although she wanted the prime location, she couldn’t bring herself to ask the artist to move his displays at this late hour. Disappointment seized her.
“Then he needs to move.” Coiled energy radiated from Nathan.
She stepped between Nathan and the space she’d been assigned. “It’s late. I don’t want to be a bother.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. This is your booth. It’s a great location. You should have it.” His hard, gray gaze moved over her features and lingered on her worried frown. “Let me help you.”
She closed her eyes to better resist his cajoling. “You’ve already done so much.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It is.” Her eyes flashed open. “I could get far too used to this.”
“Then get used to it.”
“I can’t let myself. It’s not who I am any longer. Not who I want to be.”
Nathan wrapped her in a strong embrace, his breath warm against her temple as he sighed. “There’s no reason you can’t be independent and let me take care of you at the same time.”
“Really? Because nothing you’ve done these past couple weeks has shown me that’s true.” She pushed against the unyielding wall of his chest. “Maybe if you stopped telling me what to do, I might let you take care of me a little.”
Her tart speech had no effect on Nathan whatsoever. He held her until her muscles loosened and she sagged against him. She liked letting him be her knight in shining armor. After a lifetime of being pampered, asserting her independence was hard work. Especially when she had a determined man tempting her to take it easy, to let her be spoiled.
But she’d be doing both of them a disservice if she meekly accepted what he offered and let him think it was enough to satisfy her.
“How about if I back off a little?” He pushed her to arm’s length, his expression set into solemn lines. “Will that make you happy?” When she nodded, his grin flashed, smug and wicked. “Good. Now let me deal with this guy.”
So much for him backing off.
He strode into the space, aiming straight at a young man with gel-spiked, short hair. “Excuse me. I think you’ve set up in the wrong spot. This space belongs to her.”
The man shrugged. “She’s late. I didn’t think she was coming so I moved in.” He turned his shoulder toward Nathan, clearly making the mistake of underestimating the tall, muscled man in faded jeans and casual white oxford shirt. “She can have my booth.” He gestured to the empty space ten feet away.
“She doesn’t want your space,” Nathan said, his low voice firm, but polite. “She wants the booth she was assigned. This one.”
“But I’m already set up here.”
“But you don’t belong here.” Nathan pointed. “You belong there. Now, we’re going out for dinner, and when we return, I expect that you will have vacated this booth.”
He smiled, a slow, dangerous baring of teeth, and stepped toward the younger man. Although Nathan didn’t make a single threatening movement, the other man’s eyes widened, and he licked his lips nervously.
“Are we clear?”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
With a satisfied nod, Nathan pivoted on his heel and strode away, catching Emma’s hand as he went. She turned to accompany him, knowing he would tow her along in his wake if she hesitated.
“What makes you think he’ll move?” she demanded, her heart going all gooey at Nathan’s demonstration of power and confidence.
He loosened his grip and slid his palm against hers, meshing their fingers. The warm, intimate clasp made her pulse dance.
The hard expression on his face melted into amusement as he glanced down at her. “He’ll move.”
She laughed breathlessly, warmed by the humor swirling in his eyes. “You can be very intimidating when you set your mind to it.”
“Shall we stop by the show coordinator’s table and point his transgression out to them?” he asked.
“Sure, maybe he’ll move faster. Now that we’re here I want to get everything set up.”
He didn’t relinquish her hand as they paused to mention their trouble to the coordinator. Nor did he let her go until he dropped a kiss on her knuckles and helped her into the van. Emma watched him through the windshield while he circled to his side and told her wayward hormones to behave. Avoiding the way he made her feel had been relatively easy while she’d been buried in her workroom, but she’d let her guard down with that fairy-tale wake-up kiss earlier and felt helpless against the pull of attraction between them.
“Are we going to sit down and eat or go to a drive-through?” he asked, starting the engine.
“Drive-through, but you knew that, didn’t you?”
Nathan put the car in gear. “I suspected you’d want to get back as soon as possible.”
On the second morning of the show, Emma sat opposite Nathan in the hotel restaurant and watched him tuck into a breakfast of steak and eggs. The man could certainly eat. Of course, he’d worked up an appetite last night after the show closed. She ducked behind the newspaper she’d bought, hiding a grin. The man could certainly make love, too.
Emma sipped coffee and nibbled on a piece of bacon. For the first time in weeks, her stomach wasn’t churning from nervous tension. Maybe that was because, for the first time in weeks, a light had appeared at the end of the tunnel. The first day of the show had been surprisingly busy for a Friday. She’d made as much in one da
y as she’d made at Biella’s in a month, and from what she’d gathered from the seasoned veterans at the show, she could look forward to the weekend being even busier.
“Look at this.” Nathan reached out and snagged the paper from her hands and replaced it with a different section.
Emma stared in amazement at the huge photo of her necklace on the front of the entertainment section. “I can’t believe it.”
“I told you that reporter was going to do a piece on your jewelry,” Nathan smirked.
“This is incredible publicity. Do you know what this means?”
“It means you’ll be very busy today.” Nathan signaled the waitress for their check. “And you owe me dinner. I’ll provide dessert. I seem to recall that you like strawberries.”
And what happened if she was busy? And successful beyond her wildest dreams? She’d thrown every bit of energy and focus into her jewelry, but until this instant, she hadn’t truly believed it would save her. Now it looked very much as if it would.
That meant she would regain access to her money without having to marry Nathan. What were the chances that he’d stick around if he couldn’t do the deal with her father? Would he disappear out of her life again?
“Do you want them dipped in chocolate or covered in whipped cream?” Nathan asked as he guided her out the door.
Emma blinked and shook her head. “What are you talking about?”
“Dessert. Strawberries. Chocolate or whipped cream?”
Laughter bubbled. “Since we’re celebrating. How about both?”
Valentine’s Day dawned overcast and cold. Nathan stood in his office and stared out the window at the rain falling on downtown Houston. The gray landscape was a complete contrast to his mood.
Ten days had passed since he and Emma had returned from Baton Rouge. The change in their relationship, sparked by that kiss in the van, continued to bemuse him. Never one to initiate their lovemaking, she now greeted him at the door each night, her ardent kisses providing the perfect appetizer.
Their time together, previously shadowed by mistrust and tension, had begun to approach the sort of domestic bliss his parents had enjoyed. He now understood why his father had always helped wash dishes even though the dishwasher functioned. Tangling with Emma’s fingers in the soapy water had been both sexy and soothing for Nathan.
Neither one had brought up the topic of marriage. She kept mum about how she’d done at the show. A week went by. He was certain that he’d lost her. Lost the venture with Montgomery Oil.
When she’d first stated her intention to return the money to her account and thereby circumspect her father’s plan to marry her off, Nathan had laughed at her efforts. Who would have guessed she had the talent to create such amazing jewelry or possessed the determination to work the long hours needed to get ready for the show?
The writeup in the paper had garnered her a great deal of attention. The traffic in her booth had been brisk. She’d charmed her customers with her salesmanship and dazzled them with her intricate jewelry. With each piece that disappeared out of the case, Nathan had seen his business deal with her father slipping through his fingers.
Then, a couple days ago, she’d admitted that she hadn’t sold enough.
So Nathan knew she’d say yes when he popped the question tonight. She might prefer a marriage based on fanciful, unrealistic emotions instead of one built on respect and admiration, but she understood that what she needed was someone to take care of her.
The only thing that was still a mystery was whether his motivation for proposing remained the same as it had been six weeks ago, or if he’d decided he couldn’t contemplate his future without her in it—business deal or no.
He shied away from the question, relieved that he’d never have to answer it. An hour ago, Sebastian had stopped by to say that Lucas Smythe needed a few more days to evaluate the offer he’d received from Case Consolidated Holdings. By this time tomorrow, Nathan would be engaged to Emma and his venture with Montgomery Oil secured.
“I’ve got a couple tickets to the Rockets that I can’t use tonight. Interested?”
Nathan spied Max in the doorway. Although resentment still bubbled inside him at all the hoops his brothers were making him jump through, Nathan appreciated Max’s attempt to reach out.
“Can’t. Got plans.”
“Me, too.”
Max didn’t leave Nathan’s doorway. “Sebastian said he gave you the numbers for the Smythe purchase.”
“I haven’t had a chance to look them over yet.”
“If you’re still holding out for the Montgomery Oil deal, you’re wasting your time. Chances are it’s not going to happen.”
“It will.” Nathan’s irritation rose, but he leashed his tone, striving for civility. “In fact, I’m set to close tonight.”
“Have you really thought about what you’re getting us into? We could stand to lose everything if the technology doesn’t pan out.” Max regarded him, his jaw jutting forward.
“Or we could stand to make a fortune.”
“Is this really about the money, or are you just trying to destroy the family business?”
Long ago, after realizing that Sebastian and Max would never accept him as a brother, he’d put a cork in his frustration and decided that if he couldn’t join them, he’d beat them. As alike as they were, he’d had no choice but to become an individual. Embedded habits were hard to break.
But at least he was trying.
“Do you really think I’d do that?” Nathan demanded, breathing hard. “Don’t you see that I’m as much a part of this family and this business as you are? Of course you don’t. You never let me be a part of anything you and Sebastian did. Frankly, I don’t know why I’m busting my ass to bring this deal to Case Consolidated Holdings when I could do it on my own.”
He stopped speaking, his hands clenching with the force of the rage that had risen up in him. The intensity of his emotions shocked him. He used to be cool under pressure. What had happened to the guy who bluffed professional gamblers with nothing but a two of hearts and a five of spades in his hand?
“So do the deal without us.” Max shrugged. “You don’t like it here anyway. I don’t know why you don’t just head out on your own.”
This is exactly the sort of ultimatum he’d wanted to avoid since returning to Houston and coming to work with his brothers. Max had tossed down the gauntlet.
“What’s going on in here?” Sebastian entered the room and stood between Max and Nathan. He glanced from one brother to the other.
“Max doesn’t seem to think I belong at this company,” Nathan explained, unable to wrestle his bitterness to manageable levels. “And I’m starting to agree with him.”
“Why is that?”
“I have a different vision for the company’s future.”
“And because you show up out of the blue—”
Nathan interrupted Max with a low growl. “I was brought in by Dad.”
“So that gives you the right to push us to make changes. The company was profitable before you showed up. It will be profitable after you leave,” Max shot back.
Around and around again with the same old arguments. The three of them could accomplish a hell of a lot more if they just stopped antagonizing each other.
Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look. We agreed that I’d have until today to get the deal done. If it doesn’t happen, you’ll never hear me mention Montgomery Oil again.”
Valentine’s Day had started out gray and overcast, but the sun had made an appearance by the time Emma let herself into Nathan’s condo. She juggled three bags from expensive downtown boutiques and kicked the door closed. Shopping had never been less fun. Would she ever again spend money without thinking of all the hard work that went into earning it? She was no longer the overindulged girl she’d been six months ago. She’d learned the lesson that her father had intended.
Not that it mattered. Despite how well she’d done at the Baton Rouge show, s
he was almost $10,000 short of her goal. She’d screwed up her chance to prove to her father that she could support herself and lost the bet she’d made with him. Honor demanded that she marry Nathan.
Sure, she could renege and walk away a free woman. Losing her trust fund no longer bothered her. The last six weeks had demonstrated that she could take care of herself. But she’d like her word to count for something. And if she’d won and her father lost, she’d expect him to live up to his end of the bargain. She could do no less.
As to how she felt about becoming Mrs. Nathan Case…
Emma stripped off her clothes and stepped beneath the shower, her thoughts locked on Nathan. On the long drive back from Baton Rouge, she’d had lots of time to think. Since moving in with him, some shift in her perception had occurred.
As hot water cascaded over her body, she shut her eyes and imagined his hands roving over her, his long, muscular frame sliding against her bare skin, awakening her desires, his deep voice crooning encouragement as they moved together. He did things to her body she’d never experienced before.
And he made her happy. He took care of her needs both in and out of bed. Feeling cherished and fussed over had opened the door to her considering Nathan’s opinions about marriage. She’d learned enough about him in the last couple weeks to decide that he’d make a great husband. He was committed to their relationship and concerned about her needs.
Still, she knew passion would never be enough for her. But what if it was combined with respect and affection? Emma wasn’t sure. Marriages failed even when the couple loved each other. Could she and Nathan make it without a strong emotional bond?
Emma exited the shower and dried her hair. It was Valentine’s Day. Her day of reckoning. Although Nathan hadn’t mentioned the deal with her father since they’d returned from Baton Rouge, she knew he was gearing up for a romantic evening with a marriage proposal at its core.
Was it reasonable to surmise that she could continue to be happy with Nathan, knowing he would resist losing his heart to her? He sang joyful songs of love and forever, but he didn’t believe a single word. Yet each chorus, every verse spoke to her, seduced her into believing that he could fall in love if he found the right woman.