Million Dollar Mistake

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Million Dollar Mistake Page 8

by Meg Lacey


  Hurting, eyes a bit teary now, she’d only taken a few rushed steps into the hallway when she barreled straight into a wall. No, not a wall, she amended as a hand clamped hard on her arm to keep her upright.

  “Watch it, hot coffee,” said an alarmed male voice.

  Lorianne jumped back just in time to avoid the steaming liquid now arching over the china cup. It splashed on the hallway rug. She gasped as the stain widened before looking up into Nicholas’s concerned face.

  “Are you all right?”

  She felt herself turning as bright red as Rudolph’s famous nose as she blinked rapidly at the man Jackson had just told her to set her sights on. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

  “Lorianne? Are you—”

  For nowhere came her tiny squeak, “I’m peachy, thanks.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Oh, yes. Never better.” Lorianne would have sold her dog to disappear in a cloud of smoke at that minute. She could feel Nicholas’s narrowed gaze boring into her.

  “You didn’t get burned?”

  “No, just the carpet.”

  Nicholas winced. “Damn. I’ll just take what’s left of this coffee to Raven and then come back to clean—”

  “Oh no, I’ll do it.”

  “Are you sure? I’m the one who—”

  “It was my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going. As usual.” She tried to chuckle. “I’m kind of a klutz.”

  With one long finger Nicholas tilted her chin up. “I’ve never met a lovelier klutz.”

  At his kind look, Lorianne smiled. “Liar.”

  Nicholas grinned and shrugged.

  “Thanks for that, though. Now go on. Get that coffee to Raven while it’s still hot.” Lorianne watched him walk away, heading down the hallway toward the conservatory. What would it be like to have a spectacular man like that in love with me, she wondered. There was something about Nicholas that made Jackson seem pale in comparison. Then she felt a flash of guilt. How could she think that? She loved Jackson. She sent a resentful glare at the room she’d just left.

  Still, wouldn’t it serve you right, Jackson Exeter, if I took you up on your request?

  Raven had wandered into the glass conservatory after breakfast. Restless and annoyed, she sat on a cushioned hassock and stared at the snow through a wall of glass that nurtured the luxurious green plants and hot house flowers that belied the weather. The snow was still falling so hard it might as well be a woolen blanket.

  Of all the bad luck. Trapped as part of the devil’s house party. She’d be lucky if she got through the next few days without being scorched. To make matters worse, her head felt as if it might explode. She should know better than to drink in the morning.

  “Here you go. I brought you caffeine just as you like it—black as Satan and twice as hot.” Nicholas’s cheery voice broke into her morose thoughts.

  “I don’t need any coffee.”

  “Yes, you do. You’ve never been able to handle champagne.”

  “I have, too. I’m a sophisticate.”

  “Uh-huh, but champagne has always given you a hangover.”

  Determined not to show any weakness, Raven threw all of her energy into denial. “Not true. I love champagne. I make it a requirement for all the men in my life to ply me with champagne and strawberries.”

  He placed the china cup and saucer on a nearby table. “Well, at least you have some requirements.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Raven bristled.

  “Nothing.”

  “Yes it did. You never just say nothing.”

  Nicholas glanced at the teacup then stepped away from the table. “Well, I can’t help but think that some of your recent ‘dalliances’ have been…” he sent her a charming smile, “lacking, shall we say?”

  “Lacking in what way?” she asked, noticing that Nicholas had positioned himself out of firing range in case she lost her temper.

  “In just about every way I can think of,” he said, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  Raven was determined to hold on to her self-control, regardless of the provocation. She hunched a shoulder, muttering, “Much you know about it.”

  “Let’s take young Exeter, for example.”

  She lifted her chin and nailed him with a defiant gaze. “Jackson is handsome, wellborn, wealthy and has a brilliant future ahead of him.”

  “I’m sure he does. Only not with you.”

  Scowling like a punished child, she said, “I really wouldn’t have been an anchor around his neck, no matter what everyone thinks.”

  “Yes, you would.”

  “I would not. I could be a wonderful wife for a politician.”

  Nicholas considered her. “In what way?”

  “I know how to talk to people and give parties.”

  He grinned. “So did Heidi Fleiss.”

  She glared at him. “How dare you compare me with the ‘Hollywood Madam’?”

  His glance wandered over her body so slowly that she felt a tingle in response before he lifted his gaze to meet hers again. “I’m just saying there’s more to being a good match for someone than the obvious things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like the same values.”

  Raven flinched. “I have values.”

  “Yes,” he drawled, “I’ve read about them.”

  “Look here, Mr. Holier-than-the-Pope,” Raven raged, “just because I’m tabloid fodder doesn’t mean I don’t have values. I do know right from wrong. And I don’t need a lecture from,” she flashed him a resentful look, “a self-appointed Mr. Virtue.”

  Nicholas considered her for a long minute. “I ran into Lorianne a few minutes ago.”

  “So?” she huffed, hurt by his dig at her perceived lack of values.

  “So I think she’s got the right stuff.”

  “Stuff?”

  “Yes, the right…” he searched for words, “uh, the right… aura, I suppose.”

  Raven rolled her eyes. “Aura? What? You’re a New Age guru now?”

  Nicholas gave her a stubborn look. “I’m saying I find her manner and person appealing. I think she’s the right one for Jackson.”

  “Oh please, as if Jackson will fall in love with her. Not after he’s—” She stopped, looking self-conscious.

  “Come under your seductive spell?” Nicholas finished with a sarcastic twist.

  Raven winced. “That came out wrong.”

  Folding his arms, he arched a brow at her. “Did it, luv? It seems that’s what your whole life has been about for the past few years…building your ego by walking all over someone else’s.”

  Raven didn’t say anything for a moment. She wanted to crawl in a hole as she caught the look in his eyes. How had she become so self-absorbed, so arrogant? It wasn’t the way she wanted to be. It wasn’t who she was inside. Still, she couldn’t let him get away with speaking to her like that. He wasn’t her father.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  His voice gentled. “Maybe it’s time you took a good look at yourself, Raven.”

  She scowled. “Me? You’re a fine one to talk. Who died and made you God? Always going around deciding what’s good for people.”

  He laughed and rubbed a finger along his nose. “Fate, maybe.”

  “Oh, poor you.”

  “Yeah, it’s a pain in the ass,” Nicholas agreed. “Most of the time I find myself watching over wayward, misguided”—he sent her an arched look—”‘sheep’ that are more focused on enjoying themselves than doing what is good for them.”

  She stood up. “This is one ‘sheep’ that didn’t ask you to butt in.”

  Nicholas gave her an amazed look. “Oh yes, you did. Or did I misunderstand that desperate kiss in the hallway, and all the events thereafter?”

  “Okay, I did. But I didn’t ask you to stay involved.”

  Nicholas grimaced as he glanced at the curtain of snow falling outside. “No, it seems the weather did that
for you.”

  Raven followed his glance, watching the wall of white for a few moments before sighing. “You’re right.”

  “Excuse me?” He cupped his ear. “Did you just say I was right?”

  She couldn’t help but grin. “Don’t get used to it.”

  He chuckled. “Too late.”

  Raven smiled, then picked up the coffee cup and took a sip before asking, “What do we do now?”

  “The best we can, I guess.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He looked around before lowering his voice. “We’ll have to convince everyone that we’re real. That our engagement is real.”

  “How?”

  “By proving we’re in love with each other.”

  With a wary expression, she took another sip before asking, “And how do you suggest we do that?”

  Nicholas sent her a stunned look. “You’re asking me?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Well, darling,” he drawled, his southern accent very evident. “You’re the one who’s in and out of love constantly. I’d think you’d have all the rules down pat.”

  She placed her cup and saucer on the table. “As if you haven’t earned your stripes in the romantic wars. I can think of a few liaisons that—”

  “Discrete liaisons, I should point out. Unlike yours.”

  “You never miss a chance to rub it in, do you?”

  He grinned. “Not usually.”

  “Is it just with me, or is this the way you treat everyone?” She said it with enough temper, hoping he didn’t see the yearning she was having more and more trouble hiding from his astute gaze. For some reason, his opinion counted. After last night, though, she refused to explore why.

  Instead of the light response she’d expected, he was quiet for a moment as he studied her. “I’ve never considered that question before. I know I don’t like dealing with fools.”

  Raven snorted at that. “No kidding.”

  “But,” he continued, “there’s something about you that gets my temper up.”

  She ticked off the reasons on her fingers. “How about my personality, my antics, my boyfriends?”

  “That all goes without saying.” He stared at her for a moment longer before saying with a reluctant note in his voice, “But it’s more than that.”

  Raven caught his intense gaze, her own widening until he was all she could see. The air was so still, she swore she could hear the snowflakes hitting the ground. Finally, she breathed, “More?”

  Nicholas’s eyes held her intently, then he blinked, breaking the spell. Turning away, he walked over to the window and cleared his throat. “Let’s get back to our strategy discussion.”

  “Is that what we were having?” Raven was disappointed, but she’d be damned if she’d let him know it. She kept her tone light. “I thought it was an argument.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Not enough heat for an argument.”

  “That’s always been a problem for you, hasn’t it?”

  He glanced back. “What has?”

  “Caring enough to go toe-to-toe in a big, loud, messy argument.”

  “Reason works better.”

  “Not as much fun, though.”

  “Depends on your idea of fun, Raven,” he said, flicking her a glance.

  She studied him. “Do you ever really let yourself go, Nicholas?”

  He turned back to the window. “I can’t afford to run around making a scene. ‘Letting it all hang out,’ as my father used to say.”

  “Yes, we must avoid scenes at all cost.” Nicholas didn’t bother to respond. The self-control he showed the world drove her wild. She remembered the first time she’d shaken it. “Do you remember that summer when you and Darcy were visiting our family in Colorado?”

  At Raven’s sisters’ suggestion, they’d thrown a pool party to welcome their cousins; and her older sisters were showing off their beautiful faces and figures. Raven, as the youngest and homeliest, with her wild hair, ugly-duckling looks and pudgy figure had hid near the bushes and watched as her sisters preened, posed and flirted with their handsome guests. Darcy Kristof flirted right back, but Nicholas ignored them. Right then and there Raven decided he was too cool and stuck on himself to join in. So she’d emerged from her hiding place and casually walked over to join them before pretending to trip, crashing into Nicholas.

  Raven’s eyes gleamed at the memory. “You fell in the pool.”

  He turned around at that, his expression darkening. “I remember.”

  She raised a brow. “You weren’t so cool then. You were furious.”

  “I was wearing a new pair of slacks, shirt and leather jacket.”

  “It was a pool party. Why weren’t you wearing your bathing suit?”

  Eyes clouded, he looked away from her. “I had my reasons.”

  “I think you wanted to make everyone feel uncomfortable.”

  “I did not.”

  Raven tossed her head, shaking the hair back from her face. “You were always standoffish, acting like you were better than us. Even Darcy didn’t do that.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “My sisters were falling all over you. But you just looked down your nose at us, and replied to everything with a charming smile and a cool comment. You drove me nuts.”

  “That’s why you pushed me in the pool? Why you ruined my leather jacket?”

  At the look in his eyes, she felt a flash of shame, but covered it by accusing, “Why were you wearing a leather jacket, anyway? It was summer.”

  “‘Cause it was special.”

  “It was an ordinary leather jacket.”

  “No, it wasn’t. I worked for eight months after school and bought it right before Darcy and I came to visit.” He stepped closer, his eyes bright with temper. “It was the first expensive thing I’d ever had that my father didn’t steal and sell to pay for his gambling habit.”

  “His what?” Shocked, Raven stared at him. “But your family was—”

  “So damn deep in the hole we couldn’t see daylight, and sinking fast.”

  Chilled by his expression and confused, she said, “I don’t understand. Why didn’t the Kristofs—?”

  “Drop it. That’s not the point of this discussion.”

  “What is the point?”

  “The point is, it’s time you grew up and stopped waging war on me.”

  She flushed like a child caught in mischief. “I’m not waging war.”

  “From that pool party on, you’ve done everything you could to drive me crazy. Including this latest stunt.”

  “My relationship with Jackson had nothing to do with you.”

  “Oh no?” He snorted, waving a dismissive hand. “Don’t tell me you thought you were in love with young Exeter.”

  “Will you stop calling him ‘young Exeter’?” she flashed, standing up. “That’s not only arrogant, but it makes you sound as if you’re a hundred years older than the man, instead of four.”

  “In terms of experience, I might as well be.”

  “You know nothing of Jackson’s experience.”

  “I know he fell for your tricks, honey. That says something about his acumen.”

  “I’ll have you know that I wasn’t using any tricks.”

  Exasperated, he raked his hand through his hair. “Oh, give it up, Raven. Flirting and making men jump through hoops is as necessary to you as breathing. You can’t exist without some poor slob making a fool of himself over you.”

  “That isn’t true. You make me sound very shallow, as well as childish.”

  “If the shoe fits—”

  She stalked over to him. “It doesn’t. You don’t know me.”

  He chuckled. “Excuse me, sweetheart, but I think I do.”

  “No,” Raven said, wincing at his expression. “You only know what I let you and everyone else see. What they want to see.”

  “Then for once, Raven, show me the real you.”

&n
bsp; “Why?”

  He hesitated, then gave her a charming smile. “I don’t know why.”

  “It’s not as if you care.” She held her breath, hoping for…for what?

  “Of course I care. I’m responsible for what happens to the family.”

  “That’s Darcy’s job as the Kristof heir, isn’t it?”

  “No. I mean, yes, but I’m the one with the responsibility to represent the family’s financial and legal interests. Anything that can impact that, I handle. That way Darcy can focus on his other obligations. On his dreams.”

  “What about your dreams, Nicholas?” she asked, her voice quiet.

  “They hit a snag.”

  Raven was silent for a moment. The anger and pain in his eyes stunned her. For the first time she saw more than she’d ever thought to see in his face. For a moment he’d dropped his mask and was no longer the cool, controlled, charming sophisticate; but instead seemed younger, more sensitive…vulnerable. Her heart melted and she placed her hand on his arm. “When?”

  “When reality slammed me in the face.”

  “What do you—”

  “Past history.” He frowned. “Although, the past does seem to be repeating itself.”

  At his direct look, Raven asked, “What do you mean by that?”

  His eyes wavered, as he seemed to struggle with himself before saying, “Never mind.”

  “You said your past—”

  His voice lightened. “We were talking about your past, darling, remember?”

  “No, you said—”

  “My past,” he said and smiled, “is now off-limits.”

  That stung. “Fine. I’m not really interested anyway.”

  Nicholas grinned. “That sounds like the Raven I know and love.”

  “Don’t use the word love to me.”

  “Why not? It’s something you hear all the time, isn’t it?”

  Her chin lifted. “Only from people who mean it.”

  Nicholas laughed, real amusement replacing the shadows in his eyes. “Honey, I wish I had a nickel for every man who says it just so—”

  She tossed her hair. “I’m the one who stops it. The one who can’t say I love you back.”

  He paused as her words sank in. His face softened. “Have you ever wondered why that is?”

 

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