“Nicki, listen to me. If you do this, everyone gets what they want.”
She stared at him, unable to determine whether he was telling the truth or not.
“I promise you. It’s the best for everyone. Most of all Maddy,” he said. “My wife hasn’t paid fifteen minutes of attention to her since she got custody—and she only got that because she lived with my in-laws. They passed away last year, within months of each other, and Maddy hasn’t been cared for properly since. My ex only keeps her around because of the child support, because it gives her a little more leverage to my bank account.”
It occurred to Nicki he was probably being honest about that. Residents jokingly claimed the Gillettes owned half of Winter Park.
“I’m doing this for Maddy’s best interests,” Jared went on. “My ex suddenly decided she wants to get married—in some cheesy little Las Vegas chapel—and she doesn’t want Maddy hanging around.”
Nicki blanched, knowing too well how a child could so easily be dismissed.
“I want her,” he continued. “She’s my daughter, and I can provide for her.”
War waged inside Nicki’s head. If she had been a vindictive person she’d say no and leave him to his own devices. Yet she’d seen enough on that ten-foot strip of mantel to know he was being sincere. She’d seen Maddy’s photos, carefully arranged like a shrine. The Gillette family did appear to be committed to each other, and she did appear to be a lovely child….
“Even you’ll get what you want,” he said softly. “You’ll get the job, the money, everything and anything you could want. I’ll see to it.”
There really wasn’t a choice, and Nicki knew it. She needed the job, she needed the security. Yet, it wasn’t just that…she needed a home for Christmas, and he was offering it to her. She’d be a fool to not accept.
“I only need a fair salary,” she said shakily. “That’s all.”
“Done.”
Nicki’s eyes slid closed, and she wondered if she was making a pact with the devil or Scrooge. “Okay. I have a black sheath in my closet,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s nothing special, but it’s…” She shrugged somewhat helplessly as she tried to pull off one more lame joke. “Well, it’s nicer than the Santa suit. I think it’ll do.”
Her mother loved glitzy costume jewelry and Nicki hurriedly chose the best pieces—baguette-cut earrings and a matching necklace. Jared didn’t seem to notice they were fake, but when she walked out, his eyes widened at the revealing slit in her slim skirt.
“You’re right,” he said evenly, “this is definitely better than red velvet and fake fur.”
Realizing that for the first time he saw her as a woman, not as an employee, not as a baby-sitter, a wave of self-consciousness washed over Nicki. She picked at a piece of nonexistent lint. “The fashion experts claim you can never go wrong with basic black.”
“Right. It’s simple. Subtle. Sexy…”
She offered him a sharp look, but his face was unreadable. “I don’t have a coat,” she said, “And my mother’s things are three sizes too small, so I thought…” She lifted up a fringed black wool shawl. “Will this be okay? I don’t want to embarrass you.”
“It’s fine.”
Taking a deep breath, she expertly draped the shawl around her shoulders, letting it cascade down her arm.
His gaze went dark, heavy-lidded. He abruptly turned away, as if he were already bored with her game of dress-up. “It’s a nice condo. I suppose you hate to give it up.”
While she put her wallet, keys, a few tissues, and a lipstick into her black clutch, she glanced around the sparsely decorated room. She’d always thought the upscale town house had been too modern. “No. It was my mom’s choice. She liked the location.”
He nodded. “I noticed this photo, here on the table. Your mom?”
Nicki hesitated uncomfortably, she didn’t want to go into it now. She didn’t want to explain heart failure to a virile man who most likely only took gasping, self-inflicted breaths when he ran five miles. “Yes,” she said, “but…I’m in the process of settling my mom’s estate.” Estate? What estate? There’d been nothing left after the medical bills and funeral expenses carved huge chunks out of her life insurance and pension.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I just assumed…” To his credit, Jared didn’t press for more information, but deftly changed the subject. “You ready to make your debut?”
She nodded, and followed him out the door. He stopped on the steps and offered up his arm. “I don’t want you to slip,” he said, indicating her strappy shoes.
Nicki hesitated, then reluctantly linked her arm through his. Jared, she immediately learned, was rock-solid. This close, he smelled like designer aftershave and preppie wool blazers. It bothered her, to have that kind of intimate knowledge about him.
The ride to the Ritz Carlton was inordinately quiet. Jared, she guessed, had his mind on his ex-wife. He was probably thinking of everything he needed to do before his daughter arrived. He was probably thinking of lawyers, and old memories, and how his life would change.
“Remember,” Jared advised as he pulled into valet parking at the Ritz Carlton, “play it cool. If anyone asks, say we’ve known each other ‘awhile’ and leave it at that. We’re just making an appearance, really, and that’s all we need to do. Just so the rumors circulate and we convince Sandra this is legitimate.”
The slit in her dress gaped when Nicki reached for her clutch. Jared’s gaze briefly strayed, and she immediately pinched the folds shut, pinning them with her hand. As if he had scorched her with his look, Nicki’s thigh tingled with heat.
One valet opened Nicki’s door, and Jared accepted a valet check from another. He came around the corner to escort Nicki inside as a doorman held open the door. The ballroom lighting was subdued, yet Nicki couldn’t help but feel as if the air had been charged with electricity once they entered the room. They followed the maître d’ to their assigned seating at one of the front tables, with Jared pausing to glad-hand every Winter Park businessman and socialite along the way.
Nicki, acutely conscious of the curious looks, did her best to nod and smile.
At the table, Jared made cursory introductions.
“And do you work, Nicki?” Janice, the young wife of the president of Winter Park’s largest bank, asked.
The question wanted to make Nicki laugh out loud. The fact was, she’d had this woman’s children sitting on her lap just last week. Mindy, four, and Michael, five.
“Not right now,” Jared smoothly intervened. “She’s going to spend Christmas with me. We decided to dress up the holidays and enjoy them this year.”
“You?” her husband boomed. “I know you. You won’t have time to enjoy them, you’ll be scrapping for every retail dollar those customers spend.”
“And why are you complaining?” Jared good-naturedly shot back. “I put it all in your bank.”
Everyone at the table laughed. Nicki found she genuinely enjoyed the company. More interesting, she discovered that they respected Jared.
When the server placed a filet mignon in front of her, Nicki stared at it hungrily. It had been a long twelve hours since she’d breakfasted on a dry bagel and cream cheese—and so much had happened in between. She’d started out the day by pulling on a red Santa suit and now she was dining with the department store president. Incredible. Life had a way of sneaking up on you when you least expected it.
She shook her head, ravenously surveying the gourmet delight on her plate.
Jared leaned into her, his appearance solicitous. “Everything okay?” he asked.
“Oh, I…” She looked up at him, and their gazes caught and held. Her heart started thrumming. “I was just wondering how I got here.”
A smile played over his lips, and his eyes were dark, mysterious, as he leaned even closer. She knew, vaguely, that he was creating an illusion for those at the table, but for a moment she didn’t really care. It was so deliciou
s to be a part of something, to have someone appear to care. It had been a long time since someone had taken care of her, or even been concerned about her. She had been lonely for so long.
She basked in the feelings he created, even when he hung his arm across the back of her chair and squeezed her shoulder. Even when she knew it was false.
Two of the women made note of the gesture, she realized, getting a sudden, uncomfortable wallop of reality.
Jared, it seemed, made a show of reluctantly tearing his gaze away and asking the man next to him a question.
Nicki was still eating when the emcee for the gala introduced those responsible and outlined the charities that would benefit from the evening’s festivities. She nearly dropped her fork when Jared Gillette was summoned to the podium.
No one seemed to notice, and Nicki politely joined them, clapping while Jared made his way to the platform. She carefully arranged her face, as if she’d known all along this was going to happen.
A beam of light hovered on Jared’s shoulders as he stepped through the crowd. His elegant tuxedo hung perfectly, outlining his tall, lithe frame. As he walked up the steps, his solid good looks were profiled, making him appear one notch short of angelic when he turned to the crowd and offered up a dazzling smile.
A shiver went through Nicki.
“On behalf of Gillette’s Department Store,” he said, “I am pleased to present the Yuletide Gala with a check for twenty-five thousand dollars. This money has been designated to benefit the city respite program for parents of developmentally disabled children as well as caregivers of the ill and recovering. On a personal note, I want to thank every volunteer who so generously gives their time to this remarkable program. Thank you. Your efforts are sincerely appreciated.”
A ripple went through the crowd. It had been the largest donation that evening, and thunderous applause echoed through the ballroom.
A hot, searing pain rolled through Nicki’s chest, even as she experienced a flicker of pride for Jared’s gesture. Those around her clapped wildly, and stood. She followed their example, closely watching Jared’s reaction.
He appeared unaffected, nodding as he walked back through the crowd, a firm smile on his lips. Nicki was in awe of how easily he handled the adulation.
He resumed his place by her, and waved to the crowd. Then he did the most unexpected thing—he reached over for her hand and captured it, twining his fingers possessively through hers. Nicki went weak, and her heart pounded. Still claiming her hand, he guided her back into her seat, and nudged his own into place.
“That was impressive,” she whispered as everyone resumed their seats.
“I wasn’t trying to be impressive,” he said drolly, “I was trying to do a little good.”
“You did. No coal in your stocking this year.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Can you guarantee it?”
“Trust me,” she said, her voice heavy with innuendo, “I have my connections.”
Jared smiled, then accepted a round of congratulations and thanks at the table. Almost immediately afterward the orchestra began to play and people filtered to the dance floor or to dessert stations at the back of the room.
“Dance?” Jared invited, tossing his napkin onto the table.
“Oh, you don’t have to…” Nicki trailed off, not quite sure what his intentions were. Several couples from their table were already dancing, but she knew he didn’t want to stay.
His eyes seemed to mock her. “Maybe I want to,” he suggested. “Maybe it’s good for the illusion. Maybe it’s part of what works between us,” he emphasized.
Nicki stared at him, then reluctantly stood. Okay. If this was part of her job, making a few swings around the dance floor, she’d cooperate.
He stood aside for her to precede him, then reached for her hand as they wove their way through the tables. He led her onto the dance floor as though she were a queen. Nicki lifted her head, knowing all eyes were on her. Inside, her nerve endings quickened and blood pounded in her ears.
They were barely six feet onto the dance floor when he pulled her into his arms. They made a few experimental steps around the floor. She followed his lead perfectly, matching her steps to his, feeling her body intuit his every move.
“Everyone’s looking, aren’t they?” he asked against her ear.
“Yes,” she said, looking over his shoulder and trying to avoid eye contact with all the curious guests.
He pulled her imperceptibly closer, but leaned back from the waist, engaging her in private conversation. His hips intimately ground against hers. “You’re absolutely sure everyone’s looking?”
Her eyes flickered away. “Y-yes.”
“Good.” He abruptly spun her in a quick circle, then made a slow, seductive dip to the music. His arm supported her. She looked up into his excruciatingly handsome face, while an overhead disco ball threw a dozen scintillating sparks over his tuxedo. “Now I’m going to kiss you,” he said huskily. “Pretend you like it.”
Chapter Four
Nicki had little time to react to his warning. Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth, intending to protest. She refused to allow anything so ridiculous! But Jared tugged her tight against him. His face hovered only inches above hers and, with determination etched on his finely chiseled features, he slowly, methodically, lowered his head.
There was no way out.
Nicki closed her eyes, and braced herself to endure the indignity.
As if he could feel her tense, Jared imperceptibly kneaded her back and the flesh at her ribs. “I guarantee this isn’t going to hurt,” he whispered, his breath soft against her cheek and brow. “Do your best to enjoy it.”
Nicki felt her eyelashes flutter, and she wiggled, slightly, in his embrace. Then, as her initial apprehension faded, his lips swooped down, claiming her, and pulling her into a hot, passionate kiss. The world spun out of control and Nicki found herself spiralling into a vortex of need as everything behind her closed eyelids turned blue-black. She felt as fuzzy as velvet, as warm as wool, and she clung to him as he parted her lips and deepened the kiss.
Her lungs ached for want of air; blood pounded and rushed her veins, yammering in her ears, making her feel weak, dizzy.
The kiss was so good that she nearly forgot why she was there and what his intentions were. His palate offered an intoxicating mixture of chocolate, wine and cherries. The combination of chocolate and wine was as seductive as an aphrodisiac; the tangy hint of cherries on his tongue left her craving more.
The kiss became fervent, demanding. Seconds ticked away before he expertly pulled back. Even then, his mouth still teased hers, his nose ending the intimacy with a tempting Eskimo kiss.
Nicki struggled to open her eyes, and a sigh involuntarily rippled through her. Her reflexes tightened as he released her, and she was vaguely conscious that her fingertips were biting the shoulders of his tuxedo.
A low sound of approval rumbled through Jared’s chest. Then he chuckled, effortlessly lifting her, his strong arms still twining at her back. “You,” he whispered, “are an amazing actress.”
Actress? What was he talking about? Nicki thought woozily. Hearing an edge to his voice, she desperately tried to focus. His face floated over hers, and her attention centered on the cleft in his chin, the jutting angle of his jaw. Above, his brow was shadowed, his mud-dark gaze perceptive.
The realization hit her like a dash of cold water. He thought she was trying to seduce him!
The scenario, unbidden, rolled through her head: Winter Park’s most-sought-after bachelor routinely fought off the advances of every gold digger within a five-hundred-mile radius. He thought she was one of those!
“I—I was only trying to make things look…genuine,” she said, leaning back into his supporting hand and trying to put some distance between her chest and his. “At your request.”
His gaze bored into hers, but his mouth twitched indulgently. “Yes. Well, it was a convincing performance. I can’t
fault you for that. Maybe I’ll have to give you a bonus.”
A feeling of helplessness, even defeat, washed over her. How was she going to work for this man if he second-guessed everything she said, everything she did? And it was insulting, for him to think everything she did was based on money. “Jared, this isn’t going to work. I know what you’re thinking and—”
He seemed to anticipate her objections before she uttered them. “Shh,” he interrupted. “It’ll be fine. This is just a one-time thing, and we both know it. So what? I was the one who ordered up the command performance,” he admitted, lifting a shoulder. “Don’t be so defensive about kissing me back.”
He had picked up the beat of the music and they were dancing again, smoothly and without a hint of hesitation. Nicki had followed his lead, and hadn’t even realized it. “I wasn’t kissing you back,” she hissed, talking into his shoulder so no one could see or make out what they were saying to each other.
“Really? So you didn’t enjoy it?”
A cold, hard feeling settled in the pit of Nicki’s stomach. She never had been good at bold, outright lies. Stretching the truth a little, like playing the part of Santa Claus or filling in as Jared’s current love interest, was entirely different. “Keep in mind,” she said finally, “that I’m only doing my job.”
“And let me just say, my little Saint Nicholas, that you do it very well.”
Amusement flickered behind Jared’s eyes, and for an instant Nicki wondered if he was baiting her. She’d never admit that his kiss had left her shaken. If anything, he’d simply caught her off guard…because she certainly wasn’t attracted to him. She liked good, solid men. Men who worked hard, played hard, and were committed to a strict set of values. Jared Gillette had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth—he had no idea what the real world was about. He had no idea what it felt like to hurt.
It was seven o’clock on a Sunday morning and Nicki lay in her bed, awake, and staring at the ceiling. With the back of her wrist, she rubbed her mouth, remembering the kiss she’d shared with Jared. What had she done? What had she gotten herself into?
The Nanny & Her Scrooge Page 4