by Caro LaFever
“Pinche culero!” Sí, this man was a fucking asshole. He wanted to lunge at her father. Shake him into the realization that Jessie could run those hotels with more flair and finesse than anyone on the planet.
“No use swearing at me. It isn’t going to change my mind.”
“Don’t you see who your daughter is, and what she’s capable of?”
“I do.” Clyde smiled, an incomprehensible smile because it was gentle. Even kind. “And that’s why I want you—”
“I’m not good—”
“For her.” Twisting around, he shuffled toward the office door.
“Stop.” He hated hearing the pleading in his voice, but he’d do this for his Jessie.
She deserved better than this ugly deal.
She deserved better than ugly him.
“There’s no stopping this.” McDowell laid his hand on the doorknob before turning to gaze across the office. “You signed the contract.”
“I want to negotiate a better one.”
“There is not a better one. None on the planet.” The old man’s eyes turned misty, a haze of memories and dreams crossing his face. “If I know anything, I know my daughter has fallen in love with you.”
What a mess. Because Nick knew the man was right. He’d seen it in her eyes, felt it in her touch, heard it in her voice.
“And even better,” the man laughed softly, “you’ve fallen in love with her.”
Another score. Another hand won by his wily adversary.
“So you’ll do this last thing for me, won’t you?” Clyde’s smile held. “Marry Jessica before I die.”
“Don’t you see what that will do?” he pleaded once more.
“Yes, I do.”
They stared at each other one more time.
“My hotels will be safe, and well cared for. So will my daughter.” Swinging open the door, he turned away. “And that is my dying wish.”
Chapter 24
“Hello, Jessie.” Nick’s accented voice came from behind her.
Swiveling around in surprise, she peered at him. “Hello, stranger.”
His smile flashed and she would have bought it, except she caught the turmoil in his eyes before those long lashes of his fell. The disastrous meeting with his family had apparently driven him away from her for the past five days.
By the look in his eyes, the situation still clearly hadn’t been resolved inside his head yet.
Trying to stuff down the hurt that had ridden her since they’d last been together, Jess turned her attention back to the e-reader. Since her father wouldn’t talk or go to the doctor, and Nick had disappeared, she’d retreated to her favorite pastime after taking care of the business of running McDowell Enterprises. During the last few days, she’d read her way through several cozy mysteries and a bunch of nonfiction. Her heart had steered her away from choosing any romances.
“What are you reading?” Ignoring her cold shoulder, he slid onto the cushioned seat.
The suite she shared with her dad had become a dark, dank hole. Clyde McDowell spent most of the day napping, and even when he was awake, he wanted the lights low and the TV off. Escaping into the casino, she’d been met with too many people, and the ever-constant fear she’d run into a sullen Nick and not know what to say.
It wasn’t that she was avoiding him.
It wasn’t as if she couldn’t confront him and drag his troubles out into the open.
The fact was, she wanted to see him and talk. But the stark reality was she didn’t know how to heal the wound deep inside him she’d spotted when he’d confronted his family. She had no expertise in dealing with a hurting man.
She was afraid she’d somehow make it worse again.
Because she had. By pushing him to bring her with him, she’d made the whole situation worse.
So she’d pulled in her hurt and retreated. After wandering the hot, dusty streets of Las Vegas for an entire morning, she’d ended up back at the casino. Nick’s assistant, Maggie, had run into her coming through the front door. Something in her expression must have caught the older woman’s attention, because she’d bustled up.
“I know the place for you,” she said. “It’s quiet, and no one ever uses it.”
She’d been correct.
The little sunroom off the main offices had been exactly right. Maggie insisted she could use it anytime. It had been designed for Nick, she’d told Jess, except he never used it—too restless to sit in the sun, his assistant had tutted.
After cautiously using it for a couple of days without being disturbed, Jess had relaxed on the cream-and-yellow sofa. Letting the sunlight warm her, she’d let the worry for her father and Nick disappear in the pages of her stories.
“Not going to tell me, huh?” One of her worries cut into her thoughts.
“What?” She frowned.
“No, no. Remember what I taught you?” Leaning closer, he smiled once more like nothing was wrong and everything was right between them. “¿Qué.”
Frustration bubbled inside her. Was he just going to pretend they hadn’t become lovers and friends in San Francisco? Was he going act as if she hadn’t met his family and seen how devastated he was about his role with them? Did he think she would give him a pass for disappearing for days without a word?
She’d left him alone. Given him space and time. However, she wasn’t going to pretend his withdrawal didn’t hurt, or she hadn’t seen what she had. “Nick.”
“Jessie,” he quipped right back, his signature smile still in place.
Granted, she wasn’t an expert with men and relationships, but she wasn’t a fool. She knew they’d come too far in this relationship to pretend everything was fine when it wasn’t. What was the point if not to be honest? She desperately wanted to return to the place where they’d been honest. Been happy together. “Talk to me, please.”
The blue of his eyes went blank. “I am.”
Sighing, she turned off the e-reader and put it down on the cushion. All right. He wasn’t willing to be honest yet. At least he’d approached her. That was a start. “What have you been doing these last few days?”
A look of stark anguish crossed his face, before it was replaced by his smile once more. “I had to catch up on some things with my business. A week in San Francisco put me behind.”
The predictable instinct to apologize welled, but she pushed it away. He’d made his decision to come with her, and he’d enjoyed every minute. There wasn’t anything she needed to apologize for. “That’s all?”
“Yeah, that’s all.” Retreating, he lounged back on the sofa.
A flick of fury rippled in her at his continued fake nonchalance. “Don’t treat me like a silly female, cowboy.”
Instant amusement banished the blankness in his eyes. He barked a laugh. “As if that were ever going to happen.”
“So tell me what you were really doing.”
A restless look crossed his face. “I was working.”
“Sure. Except you were doing something else, too.”
Jerking to a stand, he paced to the doorway, and then back. “I was thinking.”
“Were you?” she said, curiosity and concern lacing inside her. “What about?”
“About our time in San Fran.” He paced away once more, the line of his shoulders rigid. “About our picnic in the desert.”
She’d put a solid bet on the fact he’d been thinking about far more than that, but at least he was talking to her. “Really?”
With an abrupt swing, he turned to stare at her, his expression stoic. “Really.”
Jess cocked her head, trying to understand the contradictory signals he was sending. His voice was smooth and polished. He wore one of his fancy suits with a power tie, making him appear as the successful billionaire he was.
Yet, beneath the poise, there lurked the man she’d seen several times now.
The daredevil who leaped on a motorcycle and zipped away into the wind. The angry man whose temper slipped its leash when least exp
ected. The passionate lover who eagerly took what she gave.
She saw that man in the tension in his jaw, the tautness of his body, the torture in those eyes.
“Jessie,” he said, low and soft.
“¿Qué?” Trying to ease his pain, she flipped him a tease and added a smile.
He closed his eyes and dropped his head back, a grimace twisting his lips.
“Whatever it is—” her heart twisted, too, and fell once more at his feet “—we’ll figure it out together.”
“Together,” he murmured, not moving.
She waited. Sunlight warmed the room, but a chill swept through her. The way he stood, as if waiting for the executioner, worried her. Scared her, honestly.
Finally, he opened his eyes and looked at her.
A gasp escaped her, because what she saw wasn’t what she expected. Instead of anger or angst, the celestial blue gleamed with honesty, with hope, with…
“I love you, Jessica McDowell,” he said, with a stout simplicity.
“Nick,” she breathed.
Walking over to her, he dropped to a knee, never breaking her gaze. “Créeme.”
She remembered that word. Believe me. How could she not? He let her see right through those eyes into his soul. She’d bet her life on that. Straight into the heart of him, not putting up any defenses, or fake smiles, or slick charm. Right to the depth of him.
“I believe you,” she whispered. “I do.”
A chuckle, wry and wondering, escaped him. “That’s the sentence I want to hear in the very near future.”
“Huh?” Confusion made her frown.
Slipping his hand into a pocket, he produced a box any woman could identify. “I do, you said. That’s what I want to hear you say in front of a preacher.”
“You can’t be serious.” She gaped at the box as he slowly opened it.
The round-cut diamond sat in a rose-gold setting, with a string of dainty rubies lining both sides. Jess knew jewelry. What girl wouldn’t, after traveling the world and staying in fancy hotels all her life? Every single McDowell hotel had several shops, and one of them was inevitably a jewelry shop.
This diamond had to be at least three carats.
“For once in my life, I am. Try it on,” he coaxed.
A wild impulse shot through her. She wanted to grab the ring and this man. She wanted to take a crazy chance for once in her life and fall into his arms.
But her common sense was too engrained. There was the unknown business between Nick and her father. There was the anger she’d seen a time or two. And there was the fact he’d hidden from her these last few days, instead of exposing his turmoil and letting her help him.
She frowned at the ring.
“If you don’t like it,” his tone turned tight, “we can choose another.”
“The ring is beautiful. As you well know.” She kept frowning at it.
“I thought so.” Carefully, he plied the ring from its cushion and held it out. The sunlight danced into the diamond, making it shimmer like a star. The rose-gold gleamed with warmth, and she knew it would complement her fair skin.
Temptation. Pure temptation. Him and his ring and his declaration of love.
She believed in that love.
She just wasn’t sure about anything else.
“Jessie, look at me.”
Taking one last look at one temptation, she focused on the other. Her frown didn’t fall from her face though.
“What are you thinking?” His smooth, suave expression fell, replaced with exasperation. “As I said before in San Fran, I’m a pretty good catch.”
“You better get off your knees,” she said with cool practicality. “You’re likely to get a bruise.”
He scowled and his skin flushed with immediate temper. “So your answer is no?”
The charming man was completely gone, leaving her with the angry version. But Jess was all right with that. It felt more real somehow. Closer to the essential Nick. “I didn’t give you an answer yet.”
Relief flickered in his eyes, before his mouth firmed. “Then answer the question.”
“Not until you answer one of mine.” She clutched her trembling heart with her hope. “One I’ve asked before.”
His luscious lips compressed into a tight grimace. “The thing with your father.”
“Whatever that thing is.”
Her sardonic response turned his grimace into a wry smile. A real smile. “My determined cowgirl.”
“Demanding cowgirl. I want an answer, Nick.”
He paused, as if at a loss about what to do, which trail to take. Every remnant of his grace and poise was gone, replaced by an awkward silence and a clumsy manner. It hurt her to see him this way, except she needed him to be real here. This moment was too important to pretend. His continued silence grated and waiting became practically unbearable, but Jess clung on to her stand. This thing had to be talked about between them before she’d move forward.
Finally, he brought his gaze to meet hers. The blue was dark and filled with resolve. “Take out that fierce intelligence of yours, Jessie, and listen to me.”
“I’m listening.” Hope curled around her heart. He was going to tell her. If he was going to tell her, then it couldn’t be that bad. Not as bad as her fevered imagination had thought.
“You know what I’m worth, don’t you?” Standing with a jerk, he slid the ring and the case into his pocket.
Her heart shrank as the temptation disappeared. “Approximately. Dad had you investigated.”
“Of course, he did.” His voice held an edge of irony. “I’ll tell you exactly what I’m worth and confirm it with my CPA’s reports, if you want.”
“That’s not necessary.” Sliding back into the comfort of the soft cushions, Jess forced herself to breathe through a momentary irritation. “I’m not interested in your fortune.”
“Because you have one of your own,” he countered. “So neither of us are marrying each other for money.”
“I haven’t said I’m marrying you.”
“Stubborn.” A quick grin flashed across his face. “One of many things I like about you.”
“No sweet talking.” She stared at him. “I need straight talk.”
“Okay.” There was not a flinch or a flutter in his gaze. “Think, Ginger Snap.”
“About what?”
“I have more money than your dad,” he said. “A lot more.”
“I know that.” The realization ran through her once more, though, and in a context other than a comparison to her father.
Not once had Nick ever struck her as a spoiled, difficult man. Yes, he could be demanding, still, it wasn’t in the way she’d seen in her hotels with various clients. A fussy, overbearing person charging through the lobby, asking for anything and everything, thinking that because of their wealth they hung the sun and every wish should be catered to. Once in awhile, she’d even had to deal with this attitude when talking to her father.
But never Nick.
She knew to the bottom of her soul, she’d never have to deal with that with this man.
“So you’ve been worried the entire time we’ve known each other,” he went on, “that I’m after you because of the McDowell hotels.”
A wrenching hurt rose in her throat.
Well. She’d wanted straight talk, and he’d given it to her.
“Dios joder todos al infierno,” he muttered. “Don’t look like that.”
“You’re cursing in Spanish,” she managed to push the words past the pain. “Which means you’re emotional.”
“Sí, for once I’m emotional.” Jerking his hands out of his pockets, he threw them in the air, his expression filled with ferocity. “I’m proposing marriage to the woman I love. What man wouldn’t be emotional?”
The woman I love.
A shocking jolt of pure pleasure raced through her at the confession.
Something she’d dreamed of. Something she’d hoped for.
During their time in Sa
n Francisco, she’d thought for a moment here and there, that he loved her. Every time, her diffidence about herself reared its stupid head, and she’d put aside her dreams and hopes. But here, in less than a few minutes, he’d said it twice.
And she believed him. She really did. Now that she’d had a moment to recover, she hadn’t slipped back into mistrust. A realization stirred inside. Her diffidence and lack of self-confidence had dropped away in the face of his emphatic words and sincere gaze. Jess felt as if a ring of chains was slowly sliding from her, letting her breathe.
He stood in front of her, his expression fierce, his eyes blazing with fervor. “I’m emotional because you don’t see yourself as I do. You don’t see how magnificent you are.”
Perhaps many men would be emotional, but Jess would bet not many of them would be as intense and passionate as Nick Townsend. It was interesting that he kept rejecting and minimizing such an essential piece of him. A deep desire to know why rushed around inside her.
If you marry him, you’ll have all the time in the world to understand him.
Her lust and her heart and her love rose in a chorus, almost drowning out her good sense.
Almost.
“I do know I’m magnificent.”
“You do?” His eyes widened and he took a step toward her, hands outstretched. “Then, Jessie, can’t you see—?”
“But we still have something to resolve.” She fisted her hands in her lap before she reached out to take his. Her voice remained cool and she was proud of herself. “You were talking about my hotels.”
“Sí.” Dropping his hands, he paced to the window and glowered at the fluttering palm trees on the terrace outside. “The thing is, I could buy and sell your precious hotels with a flip of a coin.”
Pride reared inside. “They are more valuable than you think.”
“I know exactly how valuable they are.” Turning, he gazed at her, his expression as cool as her voice. “To the penny.”
She had no doubt. Nick and his talent for cards and numbers would have done his own investigation. Except she wasn’t talking about dollars and cents. She was talking about history and heritage, heart and hope for her future.