by Meg Lacey
His eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring as J.R.’s statement hit him like a line drive. “Is that a threat?”
“Take it any way you want.”
With effort, Nicholas smoothed his expression to bland interest. “I see.”
“That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“Not quite.” J.R.’s terse expression brought Nicholas back to the business at hand. He could see it now. Months of work and millions of dollars of potential profit swirling away like rainwater into a sewer pipe. “I’ve given you a proposal for a very lucrative deal, J.R. Worth a small fortune in fact. If you’re not interested, we’ll find someone else who is.”
Nicholas clamped down the momentary panic of starting from scratch. The Kristofs needed Exeter’s political clout, as well as his business expertise to pull off this deal. Nicholas hoped his hard line wasn’t a mistake.
J.R. stared at him for a long moment. “Well, you’ve got guts, Demetrious. My people told me you’re a cool customer.“
Nicholas said nothing. He only waited. He’d had to teach himself to wait over the years. In the right circumstances, it was as bold a tactic as aggressive action.
“Okay.” J.R. nodded as he met Nicholas’s steely gaze. “I’m going to take you at your word regarding Raven. You said you’d take care of her and from what I’ve seen, you’re doing that. Make sure you continue doing it.” He paused. “You’re right, the deal is a good one. If it goes as expected, the profit and business impact will even be valuable for my son’s political campaign.”
Nicholas still waited.
Finally, J.R. said, “Okay, as far as the deal goes, I’m in as long as Raven is out of the picture–permanently.”
Nicholas tossed back his drink, then placed his glass on the bar. “Don’t worry. Raven’s my problem now.”
Raven was changing into her nightclothes, a practical—for her—long satin slip cut up to the thigh on either side and down toward the waist to give her full breasts lots of breathing room. She smoothed the fabric down over her hips, loving the feeling of the cool material on her bare skin. The sleek satin was claret red, one of her favorite colors. Not the shade to wear if you wanted to blend into the background, which Raven didn’t. She’d spent too many years as part of the woodwork. However, she couldn’t help a moment’s longing for the shy, gawky, ignored young woman she used to be. At least she wouldn’t have found herself in this situation. Her lips twisted. No, she’d have been lucky to find herself at all. She’d almost been invisible. She glanced in the mirror.
Well, not anymore.
She’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the attention she now received. There were times though when she wondered if she had gone much too far. This was one of them.
Her father had requested her to be nice to Jackson Exeter, so she was. Although when he first invited her to come skiing, she’d refused. Which only seemed to make Jackson more determined. He’d smiled, charmed and practically begged her to come.
Go, Daddy had said, enjoy yourself. As if she had nothing better to do than run around the world and play.
Truth was, she didn’t. She’d spent the past five years that way. It was beginning to pall. Same conversation, many of the same people, same concerns—nail, hair, wardrobe, who is sleeping with whom, did you know so-and-so got her eyes done, her face lifted, her butt tucked? And then there were the constant sleazebag reporters, whom she’d supplied with outrageous antics for years, always digging for new dirt.
But now when she saw her life reflected in Nicholas’s eyes, her impatience with her lifestyle was replaced by shame. She didn’t want her life remembered as this week’s headline or next week’s exposé photo op. There was more to her than that. A tear rolled down her cheek. She brushed it away. Damn, Nicholas Demetrious. Who cares what he thinks?
She did, it seemed. She’d been fascinated by him as a child, on those occasions when she’d seen him at some extended family function. He was only five or six years older than her, but he’d always made an impression.
Tall, dark and handsome—the perfect cliché. Unfortunately it fit Nicholas to a T. So did cool and self-possessed, which only added to his attractiveness and his mystique. Then when he dropped his guard to reveal some vulnerability and sense of humor, Raven couldn’t help responding to him like a flower welcoming sunshine. But even so, she’d always had a feeling he was hiding part of himself. That underneath that smooth exterior was a street fighter decked out in leather and riding a big, bad, to-hell-and-back Harley. That hint of danger which he hid so well, pulled at her, made her itch to get his attention. She’d sensed the darkness rippling underneath and that was much more appealing than the silky side he showed the world. As a teenager, she’d watched from the shadows as her sisters fell all over him, only to have him smile and move on. She’d vowed to make him notice her when she grew up.
She’d succeeded.
Raven blinked rapidly to stop another tear from falling. Then she walked over to the dressing table for a tissue, sitting on the bench to blow her nose.
Yes, Nicholas noticed her all right. For years she’d lived for his disapproval, for the guilty pleasure of watching him lose his suave manner every time he showed up to deal with one of her fiascoes—as he called them—all of which he said reflected badly on the Kristof family. As the corporate watchdog, he had to think about things like that. The more exasperated he became at her behavior, the more she set out to annoy him. She wasn’t sure why. It just seemed the way it was. Getting under his skin was more fun than being ignored.
Raven grabbed her brush, ruthlessly pulling it through her hair. In a way, she shouldn’t have been surprised to see him today. He had an uncanny knack of showing up when least expected.
She smoothed gloss onto her lips to soften them and had just snatched a cotton ball to remove her eye makeup when a discrete knock on her bedroom door made her turn from the mirror. The knock came again, a bit louder. She rose and crossed the room to open the door.
Jackson stood on the other side, his gaze stunned, then hungry as it roamed over her. From the way his eyes were almost crossing, Raven realized she should have slipped into her robe.
She inhaled. “Jackson, what are you—”
He seemed transfixed for a moment, his eyes riveted on her chest before lifting his gaze to meet her eyes. “I had to see you.”
“Jackson, this isn’t a good idea.”
“May I come in?”
She denied him access with a sharp shake of her head. “I don’t think so.”
Jackson locked his jaw. “I either come in or we have this conversation in the hall.”
Raven looked into the hall before stepping back from the door. “Oh for—all right. Come in.”
Jackson strode to the center of the room and looked around, seeming unsure what to say now that he was inside. “This room suits you, you know. Tasteful, yet exotic. It’s always been one of my favorites.”
Raven glanced around. She thought the room a bit garish, with its rose damask walls, gold leaf furniture, intricate colored velvets and lace. Rather like a room in a high-priced brothel. All she was missing was a mirror over the bed. For the first time she wondered if Margaret had given her this room for that reason. She smiled to herself. Wouldn’t it be a kick to think Margaret actually had a sense of humor under that block of ice she called her face?
Raven forced her attention back to Jackson, who’d continued to comment on the room. “Did you come to discuss the décor?” she interrupted.
He smiled. “I wish I did. It would probably be safer.”
His blue eyes blazed into hers, leaving her the teeniest bit uneasy. She mentally shook herself. This was Jackson, for heaven’s sake. He was a man. There wasn’t a man living she couldn’t handle. Except for Nicholas, a nagging little voice commented.
She forced herself to relax and smile back at him. “Probably.”
“But as it is—”
“We should have this discussion tomorrow. And not in a bedroom
.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so, Raven. Not after what happened today. You’ve been putting me off since we got here.”
“That’s because I don’t want you to say something you’ll regret.”
“I won’t regret anything I say.”
“Yes, you will. You just don’t think so at the moment.”
He stepped closer to her, curving his hands around her arms. “Look, Raven, I know this is moving fast. We’re moving fast.”
“Not me. I’m not moving at all.”
“I knew it. It’s too fast for you. Is that why you had to play that little scene?”
She was unnerved by his nearness. “What little scene?”
“The one in the hallway with Nicholas Demetrious this afternoon.”
“Oh, that.”
“Anyone with eyes could see through it.”
“They could?” She recovered enough to add, “—not. They could not. There was nothing to see through.”
“I know why you did it.”
She stepped back, forcing him to release her. “Why?”
“You were afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“Of us. Of life. Of taking a risk.”
Raven shook her hair from her face in a gesture of sheer bravado. “I take risks all the time.”
“Then take one with me and I’ll do the same,” he pleaded, the enticing tone in his voice surprising her.
“Jackson, you don’t know what you’re saying. I shouldn’t have come here. I’m not the right person for you.”
“I don’t care.”
“Well, you should care.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
He tilted his head, a slight smile lifting the corners of his lips. “Because why?”
Words eluded her as she met his twinkling eyes, so she settled with, “Because you should.”
He laughed. “That’s not solid reasoning.”
“Jackson, please, you have to leave. Right now.”
“Afraid?”
She strode as well as her gown would let her over to the door. “Please go.”
“Tell me you’ll think about it—about us.”
All she could think about was the possibility of someone finding him in her room. Someone like Nicholas. Not that he’d come to her room, but still—
“Yes, all right. I’ll think about us.” She opened the door. “Now go.”
Jackson strolled over to her, stopping in the doorway, turning to look back at her. “Have I told you how beautiful you are in that color?” He stepped a bit closer. “How much I want to take you in my arms?”
She placed her hand on his chest to stop him from moving even closer. “Please,” she whispered.
To the causal observer that whisper must have sounded as if she were begging for him to kiss her because Jackson leaned down and placed his lips against hers. She was so stunned by his move that she fell back against the doorframe, mouth opening in surprise. A move Jackson took full advantage of, slipping his arms around her and pulling her closer.
She fought her way back from the kiss, placing the palms of her hands against his chest to push him back. He reared back a bit, only far enough to create some space. She turned her head to the side to have her eyes meet those of Lorianne.
Lorianne was walking down the hall, carrying a steaming cup and saucer that filled the air with a delicious chocolate scent. She jerked to a stop, pain filling her face as she looked from Jackson to Raven. Then her mouth tightened and she looked as if she’d like to dump her cup all over them.
“How many men does she need, anyway?” Lorianne muttered, loud enough for Raven to hear.
Raven gasped and gave Jackson a mighty shove that had him stumbling back into the hallway.
At a momentary loss for words, Raven stared at Lorianne, who mastered her emotions well enough to give her a cool stare back. She even managed a chilly, “Once again, so sorry to interrupt.”
Turning redder than her negligee, Raven switched into denial mode. “This—this isn’t what it looks like.”
Jackson became aware of Lorianne at that moment. “Oh yes, it is.”
“No, it isn’t. I was trying to explain why I can’t.” Raven waved her arm at Jackson. “Why we can’t—that we shouldn’t—”
“Interesting way you have of explaining, I’d say.” Lorianne pursed her lips as her gaze roamed over them.
“Look, never mind. Just take my word for it. There’s nothing between Jackson and myself.”
Lorianne gave Raven’s revealing nightgown a pointed look. “I can see that for myself.”
“I wouldn’t say that, Raven.”
“Stay out of this,” Raven snapped back at Jackson.
Lorianne gripped her saucer tighter. “I suppose there’s nothing between you and Nicholas either?”
“No. That’s right. I mean, no, that’s wrong.”
“What is it right or wrong?”
“Right. There is something.”
“I thought that was wrong before.” Lorianne was obviously enjoying herself.
Raven was confused for a moment, then her eyes narrowed as she stared at the other woman. Finally she said in a soft tone, “Having a good time at my expense?”
Lorianne’s eyes widened into round pebbles. “I was just trying to understand clearly. I love clarity.”
“That’s convenient,” Nicholas’s dark liquid fudge voice flowed into the conversation. “So do I.”
Raven whirled to face the man who’d come up behind her. Jackson did the same, while Lorianne just stared at him, her mouth opening then shutting like a fish starved for oxygen.
“Am I missing something?” Nicholas asked. His casual tone belied the steely expression in his eyes.
“No,“ Raven said.
“Yes,” Jackson contradicted.
“Maybe,” Lorianne added.
Nicholas glanced around, his knife-sharp eyes dissecting Raven first, before stabbing into Jackson. Finally, he sliced his gaze over to Lorianne. “Maybe?” he questioned, gentling his voice.
“Well, I don’t want to tell tales, but… They…”
Horrified at what Lorianne might say, or the interpretation she might give to what she’d seen, Raven rushed to explain. “The kiss meant nothing.”
“That kiss meant plenty,” Jackson protested. “You kissed me back. I know when a woman is kissing me back.”
“You surprised me is all.”
Nicholas’s brows snapped together and he frowned, a thunderstorm in the making. “You kissed him?”
“It sounds worse than it is…uh, was.”
“What’s going on out here?” J.R. joined the party. He was still holding a file folder, apparently having just come up the stairs from his study.
“Nothing, Father.”
“Nothing? Then why is everyone standing in the hall? Are we having a fire drill?” He chuckled.
Lorianne gave his joke a perfunctory smile. “No, just a misunderstanding, Uncle J.R.”
“I’ll say,” Nicholas muttered, directing his stare at Raven, who flinched then flung her shoulders back, ready to ride out the storm.
“What type of misunderstanding?”
“Nothing for you to worry about,” Nicholas answered in a firm tone.
J.R. studied each person in a careful fashion. “This is my house. I worry about everything.”
Jackson stepped forward. “If you must know, Father, Lorianne saw me kissing Raven.”
J.R. turned on Raven. “What? What the hell were you doing kissing my son?” He turned to Nicholas. “I thought she was kissing you?”
Nicholas gave him a sardonic smile. “She was—earlier.”
Glaring at Raven, J.R. demanded, “Who’s next, young lady, the gardener?”
Raven started to reply when a firm grip around her arm shut her up. She glanced at a very annoyed Nicholas warning her not to respond. She replied anyway. “Mr. Exeter, this incident has been blown out of proportion. P
erhaps we can discuss this tomorrow after we’ve—”
“Not until I know if you’re planning on kissing my son again, young lady.”
Raven flushed all the way to her navel. And in her current attire she was positive everyone could follow the color en route. “No. I’m not planning on that.”
“I’m planning on it,” Jackson added.
Nicholas glared at Jackson. “You can forget that idea right now.”
“Why should I do that?” Jackson challenged. “I’m in love with her.”
“Oh,” Lorianne gasped, her face turning pale.
“God bless me, boy. I told you—” J.R. exploded.
“Great, just great,” Raven muttered.
“Nice going, champ,” Nicholas whispered. “See? Chaos follows you.”
For the first time in many years, Raven would have given anything not to be part of the uproar. She found herself wishing she were sitting by a calm lake. She tried to say something, but everyone was talking at once, so she decided not to bother. Maybe no one would miss her if she disappeared into her room. She took a surreptitious baby step backwards, then another before she jerked to a stop. She’d forgotten about Nicholas’s iron clamp on her wrist.
“Oh no, you don’t. You’ll stay here and face the music.”
“It doesn’t sound like music. More like a gang of cats fighting in an alley.”
Nicholas sent her a look, seeming to agree. “Excuse me.”
When no one stopped talking, he put two fingers in his mouth and blew, the whistle so sharp that everyone stopped in mid-syllable and covered their ears.
Nicholas pressed Raven’s wrist in warning, spitting the words out like machine gun fire. “This may not be the ideal time, but I have an announcement to make. Raven and I are engaged.”
Three mouths dropped open, three sets of eyebrows lifted and three sets of eyes widened until they all looked like surprised owls. Raven swallowed a chuckle at the sight.
Nicholas turned from right to left, his rapid, precise words spraying the enemy troops. “So, since I’m the person most concerned with whom she was kissing and why, I’ll take care of this.”
Jackson’s shocked stare swiveled from Nicholas to Raven and then back again. “I don’t believe it.”