“But—”
“And no, I wouldn’t have made love with you had I been engaged to someone else,” she interrupted, green eyes flashing. “How could you even think it? I might be a great many things—” stupid, came to mind “—but I’m not disloyal or dishonorable.” She turned about quickly so he couldn’t see the tears threatening to fall.
“You’re not being at all practical about my offer, Meredith. I can offer you the world, anything your heart desires. You could travel to exotic places, redecorate the house and shop to your heart’s content.” Women loved doing that, he knew.
Taking a deep breath, she turned back to face him. Her heart was breaking, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing. “You are obviously unaware that money can’t buy happiness, Adam. Or a wife, for that matter. I will not marry for the sake of convenience or to fatten my bank account, which admittedly needs fattening. I’ll only marry for love. And I’ll only marry someone who loves me back. I’m just selfish enough to want to be the center of my husband’s world, not some business merger.” The words dripped with contempt.
“Isn’t that how you phrased it when we first met, Adam—a business merger?” And she had responded by asking, “What’s love got to do with it?” Now she had her answer: nothing. Nothing at all.
Adam wasn’t sure if he was in love with Meredith. The emotion was totally alien to him. But what he did know was that Meredith was the first woman he’d ever made love to that he wanted to wake up with in the morning, the first woman he found interesting, stimulating, incredibly desirable and who would make a wonderful mother for Megan and Andrew.
Her enthusiasm for model trains was just an added bonus.
“I shouldn’t have declared myself so abruptly,” he said, moving to stand before her, totally unaware of how his nakedness was affecting her. “You obviously need time to think about what I’m offering.” Once she had, he was sure she would come around to his way of thinking. After all, his suggestion was exceedingly logical, practical.
And what was wrong with a sound business merger? He’d helped build Morgan Coal Mining and Manufacturing on just such principles.
Her sigh was filled with disappointment. “You’re the one who needs to think things through, Adam. You need to start thinking with your emotions, your heart.” She patted his chest, fighting the urge to explore the thick mat of hair, fisting her fingers instead. “Your heart, not your brain.”
Adam’s bland expression gave no clue as to what he was thinking, and Meredith wasn’t sure if what she’d said had made any impression. But she forged ahead, anyway, figuring she had nothing to lose but his business. She’d already lost her heart. “Your plan to find a wife by way of a media search is a prime example of your lack of understanding of the human condition. Romance and love are what women want, not material possessions.”
He began to protest, but she held up her hand, cutting him off. “Oh, I’m sure you can find a multitude of women who would jump at the chance to marry you for your money. But are they going to love you? Are they going to be there for the long haul?
“And what kind of mother will they make for your niece and nephew? Megan and Andrew have already been devastated by the loss of their mother and father. To stick them with some money-grabbing, cliché of a stepmother is cruel beyond imagination. Or hadn’t you considered them in your grand scheme of things?”
Grabbing his robe, he shrugged it on, knotting the belt with an impatient tug, while dark storm clouds gathered in the depths of his silvery eyes. “Megan and Andrew are my primary consideration. I want what’s best for them. I always have.” And he would deny it to the death if anyone said otherwise.
“I’ll do my best to find you a suitable wife, Adam.” Even if it kills me. “But what happened between us last night will not be repeated. It was wonderful, but it was definitely a big mistake. It won’t happen again. Mixing business and pleasure never works out, as I’m sure you know.”
He opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it, unable to dispute the logic of her reasoning, unwilling to interpret what was in his heart.
“Now if you’ll excuse me,” she said, “I’m late for work.” Grabbing her dress and underclothing, Meredith took refuge in the bathroom where she proceeded to cry her eyes out.
Fully composed in less than five minutes, she had dressed and departed without so much as a goodbye peck on the cheek, leaving Adam with a feeling of loss he’d only experienced once before—the day his sister died.
He still missed Allison. Not a day went by when he didn’t think about her and all the good times they’d shared as children. He’d loved her a great deal. They’d always been there for each other, offering comfort and emotional support whenever being a Morgan became too much to handle.
His sister’s death served as a painful reminder that attaching oneself to another human being meant opening oneself up to a world of hurt.
Adam was hurting right now—Meredith was to blame—and he didn’t like the feeling one little bit.
THROUGH THE POWERFUL binoculars, Tremayne’s gaze fixed intently on the attractive redhead who had just emerged from the mansion. She looked upset, but definitely sated.
Morgan hadn’t wasted any time bedding his new wedding coordinator, Curtis thought, recognizing the woman from her photo in the newspaper. Not that he could blame him. The man always did have impeccable taste, and she was definitely a knockout. Buxom, long legs—a body just made for sin.
He felt a need too long denied well up inside him like a geyser. He hadn’t been with a woman since his wife, and that felt like a lifetime ago.
Not that Allison had ever been all that satisfying in the sack. Far from it. She’d had too many repressed feelings, too much self-conscious garbage to contend with, probably inherited from her cold-as-a-fish mother. “Lilah, the Lizard,” Curtis had pegged the Morgan matriarch.
Since Allison had proven to be such a big disappointment in bed, he’d been forced to take his pleasure elsewhere to make up for her lack of inventiveness and unwillingness to satisfy him.
He liked his sex hot and hard. And he sure had a taste for well-built redheads with legs that didn’t quit.
Jotting down the time of Meredith Baxter’s departure in his notebook, he set down his binoculars and pulled a cigarette from his shirt pocket. He’d been watching the Morgan household for weeks, noting departure and arrival times of the various employees, the kids’ school schedules and all of the many visits the Baxter woman had made to the mansion.
If Morgan had screwed her on each of those occasions, he was one lucky SOB. Another reason to revenge himself on the wealthy bastard.
Proper planning made for successful execution. He’d learned that from the Morgans themselves, especially the old man, who’d been a stickler for details. How fitting he’d now be able to turn their own methods against them.
Revenge was going to be sweet. And very lucrative. Very lucrative, indeed.
“WHO DIED?”
Randall’s question hit Meredith right between the eyes as she stepped through the door of the bridal salon, hoping to avoid answering any questions about her lackluster appearance. But of course Randall, being Randall never let appearances slide.
“You look like doo-doo, sweetie, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
Self-consciously she brushed at her hair, which was curling riotously because she hadn’t had time to blow-dry it, and straightened her skirt, hating to admit that she felt like something that belonged on the bottom of a shoe.
She’d gone home to shower after leaving Adam’s house, hoping she’d be able to cleanse herself of the need to be with him, but it hadn’t worked. She felt just as needy as ever, only now she was also a candidate for St. John’s Wort.
She’d never had a broken heart before—maybe a few minor cracks, but not the major fissure now existing in her chest—and she wasn’t sure how long it would take for it to mend. If it ever did. Right now that didn’t seem likely.
&nbs
p; “I’m fine, Randall. I’m sorry I’m late, but I…I overslept.” She hated lying, but it was nobody’s business what had transpired between her and Adam. She didn’t want to think about it. It was history, a mistake, an unfortunate lapse of judgment.
But Meredith had been thinking about it, and she felt devastated that Adam didn’t love her.
“Judging from those dark circles under your eyes, you must have had an exhausting night.” His right brow arched knowingly. “By the way, your mother called asking why you didn’t drop by the nursing home to see her last night.”
Meredith’s face paled. “Oh, no! Was she very upset? I had so much to do last night that I completely forgot to call her.” Damn Adam! The man had made her forget about her own mother. Okay, so her hormones may have played a small part, but it was definitely Adam’s fault for making them rage out of control.
“I’ll call her, explain what happened, then drop by and visit her later.”
“She asked if you were with Morgan. I covered for you and said no, but we both know that’s a lie.”
“I hate it when you interrogate me, Randall. Just because you’re in law school doesn’t give you the right—”
He draped his arm around her shoulder and squeezed gently. “It’s more about being your friend than about being a lawyer, sweetie. You know I care for you. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
She heaved a sigh. “Too late for that, counselor.”
“What happened?” But the expression on her face was telling, and Randall merely shook his head. “Sacrebleu! You slept with him, didn’t you?”
“That’s none of your business. But yes, I did.” What was the point of lying? She and Randall had never kept any secrets from each other. Besides, he’d wheedle it out of her eventually, ply her with cookies and Godiva chocolates until she gave in.
Weakness, thy name is Meredith.
“Mon dieu.”
“Tell me about it. Adam Morgan’s asked me to marry him.”
“What!” His bright blue eyes rounded, nearly bulging from their sockets.
“He thinks I’m the perfect candidate to be his bride. I fit all the nauseating qualifications. And the kids like me. There was no mention of the L word, however.”
Randall pushed Meredith into a chair at the table, saying, “Fortunately I had the foresight to pick up a turtle praline cheesecake from Lovett’s Bakery this morning. I think it’s time to break it open.”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t. I’m too upset to eat right now. Maybe later?” She forced a small smile at his thoughtfulness, then said, “By the way, where’s Sally? I hope she’s not ill.” She needed the woman to videotape the three applicants who were coming in later today. Because of what had transpired this morning, she intended to step up her pace in finding Adam a bride—one other than herself.
“No, sweetie. Sally’s feeling just fine these days, due, I suspect, to the attentions of a certain handsome attorney who keeps dropping by and taking her to lunch. She’s at the bank making a deposit and should be back any moment.”
The front door opened and they turned, but it wasn’t Sally who entered; it was the delivery man from Kramer’s Florist, who was pushing a handcart loaded with roses in every color imaginable. “Where do you want ’em, Meredith? I’ve got more in the truck to bring in.”
Her mouth dropped open as she viewed the opulent and very expensive arrangements. The scent they emitted was sickeningly sweet, almost cloying. “There must be some mistake. I didn’t order any flowers. The next wedding isn’t until two weeks from Saturday, and Annie Garrett ordered carnations, stephanotis and baby’s breath, not roses.”
“It’s beginning to smell like a funeral parlor in here,” Randall noted, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “I suggest you read the card and see who your admire is, as if we didn’t already know.”
Her heart sank. She’d made it perfectly clear to Adam that from here on out it was going to be strictly business between them. The card indicated differently: Marry me. I won’t take no for an answer.
She gritted her teeth. Adam’s persistence, not to mention his obtuseness, annoyed the heck out of her. “Don’t bring the other cart in, Harold,” she shouted to the driver from the doorway, who’d gone back to his van. “Take the rest of the order to the hospital and have the flowers distributed among the patients. I don’t have room for them here.”
“Will do. But I don’t think this’ll be the last of the deliveries. I heard Mrs. Kramer say that there was a standing order.”
“Good Lord!” Was the man insane?
“You sure must have impressed some fella, Meredith. We ain’t had such a large order since Allistair Morgan died.”
“Apparently the Morgans are known for their excesses, Harold,” she said with no small amount of sarcasm, thanking the balding driver, then shutting the door and slumping onto the chair.
A few moments later Sally walked in and, upon noticing the large array of flowers, asked, “Are any of these for me?” a hopeful expression crossing her face.
Randall smiled apologetically. “No, sweet Sally, they’re all for Meredith. Apparently, she’s made her bed and now has to lie in it. The good news is it’ll be strewn with rose petals.”
Meredith flashed the man a look of pure annoyance. “You can be replaced.”
“Then you’d have no one to share your passion for chocolate with. You know Sally doesn’t have nearly the sweet tooth I do.”
“Maybe I’d lose weight.”
“Why do I feel like I’ve just entered the Twilight Zone?” Sally asked, tossing her coat on the chair. “What’s going on?”
Randall opened his mouth to explain, but Meredith beat him to the punch, relating the gist of recent events, including Adam’s marriage proposal.
“Mr. Morgan wants to marry you? But that’s wonderful! Isn’t it?” she added, noting her employer’s deep frown.
“Under normal circumstances I suppose it would be. But Adam doesn’t love me, and I won’t settle for anything but the genuine article.”
“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
Sally’s question hung in the air like humidity on a hot summer day, making Meredith feel very uncomfortable, the chasm in her chest widening another inch. Finally she said, “Yes, I am, totally and insanely.”
“Mon dieu!” Randall clasped his hand over his heart, then threw in a sacrebleu for good measure.
“But that doesn’t matter,” Meredith went on, ignoring the man’s theatrics. “One-sided relationships never work out. Adam’s made it crystal clear that he doesn’t love me.”
“He told you that?” the blond woman asked.
“Well, no. Not in so many words. But he didn’t make any heartfelt declarations either, so—”
“Sweetie, men are much more reticent than women about sharing their feelings. And perhaps he just doesn’t know what’s in his heart. I’ve had similar relationships, and if you give him time—”
She shook her head. “Time is something I don’t have, Randall. We’ve only a few weeks left to find Adam Morgan a bride, which is exactly what we’re going to do.
“I’ve already spent his deposit, and I need the balance of the money he’s going to pay us when the wedding is done to keep this business afloat. So I suggest we get to work and sort through the rest of the applications.”
Her heart would mend in time. It had to.
Sally stepped forward and wrapped her arms about her friend’s waist. “I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”
A steely glint of determination entered Meredith’s eyes. “There is. Help me find Adam a bride. The sooner he’s married, the sooner I can get my life back to normal.”
Normal, however, was very highly overrated, in her opinion.
Chapter Eleven
Adam’s intercom buzzed, but he didn’t need to answer it to know what his secretary Grace Mulrooney, was going to tell him. Gifts he’d sent to Meredith had been arriving back at his office most of the
afternoon, unopened and marked Return to Sender.
Meredith was determined to reject his marriage proposal. He, on the other hand, was just as determined to marry her. It was the perfect solution for everyone involved. And when it came to determination there were few who could best him.
Pressing down on the phone’s intercom button, he asked, “Yes, Grace, what is it?” then waited for the usual response.
There was an embarrassed silence before the woman said, “What would you like me to do with the gifts, Mr. Morgan? All of the jewelry has been returned, as has the set of matching luggage, the airline tickets to Europe and the gold-plated, engraved dog collar.”
Adam’s brow shot up at that. He thought surely the present for Harrison would have weakened Meredith a bit. He knew how much she loved that dog. “Just stack them up in the corner with the others. I intend to deliver the gifts in person. I think I’ll have better results.”
His secretary’s voice held a definite lack of confidence when she replied, “I…I hope so, Mr. Morgan.”
Grace still insisted on calling him Mr. Morgan, though he’d given her leave to address him as Adam years ago. But she was a stickler for propriety, had never addressed the old man as Allistair, and she wasn’t about to overstep her bounds by addressing his son in such a familiar way.
“Was there something you wished to add, Grace? If so, just spit it out. You’ve worked for me long enough to know that I welcome divergent opinions.” The intercom suddenly went silent, then the door to his office opened, and the older woman with the graying blond hair stepped in.
An attractive woman in her early sixties, Grace Mulrooney took as much care with her appearance as she did with Adam’s correspondence. A motherly sort, she’d worked for the Morgans for over twenty years, was efficient and well organized, typed seventy words per minute, took dictation—a rarity these days—and was someone who only offered advice if you pulled it out of her—another rarity.
The secretary smiled tentatively, her blue eyes kind behind tortoiseshell glasses. “Some women don’t respond well to presents, Mr. Morgan. I’ve met Miss Baxter. She seems to be a very single-minded person. I’m not sure overwhelming her with flowers and gifts is the best way to woo her.”
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