Nick leaned back in his leather desk chair and laced his fingers together behind his head. His gaze never left her face. “Mind telling me what’s so important I had to leave a meeting that took me two weeks to arrange? The way you’re acting, I can’t imagine it’s because you missed me.”
It had been three days since she’d accepted his offer. Three days without so much as a phone call. Three days of offering excuse after excuse to her grandparents.
“The way I’m acting? How would you act if a man you’ve just introduced as your fiancé drops off the face of the earth, doesn’t return—”
“I was out of town.”
“I don’t care if you were in China.” Only death would have been a valid excuse for ignoring her fifteen voice messages. “You could have called.”
“I was busy.” A sudden thin chill hung on to the edge of his words.
“Busy?” she said sarcastically. “Too busy to pick up the phone?”
She stalked to his desk, picked up the receiver and shoved it into his hand. “How many seconds out of your busy schedule would that little gesture have taken? Five? Three?”
His lips quirked upward.
“Don’t you dare smile at me, mister. Not after what you’ve put me through.” She refused to be appeased. “What was I supposed to say when my grandparents asked why I wasn’t bringing you over to meet them? I can’t bring him because I don’t know where he is? I can’t set up a time because he won’t return my calls? I wish I had a quarter for every time your secretary told me you were unavailable.”
His smile vanished, and he set the receiver down with a slow, controlled gesture. “That’s her standard response to callers.”
“Even your fiancée?”
He had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. “I must have forgotten to mention—”
It was all she could do not to scream in frustration. “Nick Lanagan, if I had a rope you would be swinging from the chandelier in the lobby right now.”
“What a romantic picture,” a sultry voice purred.
Taylor’s gaze jerked to the intruder in the doorway. The sleeveless white linen sheath emphasized the woman’s deep rich tan, and the alligator belt around her waist accentuated her smallness. Her thick dark hair hung in long graceful waves over her shoulders.
“Although I must admit ropes don’t do much for me. I’ve always been partial to satin sheets and champagne.”
Shocked, Taylor could only stare at the unknown woman.
“Claire.” Nick rose from his chair and circled the desk to stand at Taylor’s side. “I’d like you to meet my fiancée, Taylor Rollins. Taylor—Claire Waters.”
So this was the infamous Claire. Taylor narrowed her gaze, a tiny, superficial smile tipping her lips. The woman was a barracuda. In the political arena such women were well known. It didn’t matter if the man was married or engaged, he was fair game. Consequently Taylor had developed a deep distrust of such creatures.
Claire smiled and crossed the thick gray carpet, her hips swinging seductively. Her dark eyes glittered, sharp and assessing. “Do I detect trouble in Paradise?”
Nick laughed and slid his arm around Taylor’s shoulders. “Just a little quarrel. In fact, if you hadn’t interrupted we’d already be into the kissing and making-up stage.”
“Don’t let me stop you.” Claire waved one hand, her cherry-red nails cutting a bright swath in the air. She sat in the corner wing chair, crossing one perfect leg over the other.
For a long moment Nick stood silent, and a tiny muscle twitched in his jaw. Then he turned and curled his finger under Taylor’s chin, tipping her face to his. “I’m sorry I was so inconsiderate. Will you forgive me?”
Taylor nodded and shoved aside her irritation. Was this sincerity an act for his old girlfriend’s benefit or was Nick truly sorry? With Claire watching their every move there was no way to be sure. Still, what could she do but lift her gaze and force a slight smile? “Yes. I’ll forgive you.”
As if on cue, Nick’s mouth lowered to hers, leaving her no time to prepare.
She couldn’t pull away.
She couldn’t act repelled.
She couldn’t do much of anything.
His lips covered hers, and for an instant all she could do was respond. Taylor jerked back, and a warmth crept up her neck. “Nick, not here. We have an audience.”
Claire’s brown eyes, so dark they were almost black, measured her with a cool, appraising look. Taylor lifted her chin and stared back, her fingers twisting the unfamiliar ring on her left hand. A plethora of blue sparks shot from the mounted gem, scattering the midday sun.
Claire’s eyes widened, and an absurd sense of satisfaction swept through Taylor. She curved her fingers around Nick’s arm, giving the other woman a clear view of the impressive jewel.
The slight smile that tipped Nick’s lips told her the gesture hadn’t gone unnoticed.
Claire’s gaze moved slowly back and forth, studying Taylor’s face for an extra beat before sending a brilliant smile in Nick’s direction. “Daddy and I have decided to throw you an engagement party. Assuming, of course, you and—”
Her hand fluttered in the air as if trying to recall some insignificant fact.
“Taylor,” Nick told her, and Taylor smiled at the amusement in his voice.
“Oh, yes. Taylor. Assuming, of course, that you two will still be together then.”
“Don’t worry about that.” Nick chuckled, and his arm tightened around Taylor’s waist. “This is the woman for me.”
For a fraction of a second, Claire’s face stiffened then she shot him a sly smile. “If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
In a pig’s eye, Taylor thought.
Claire reached into her bag and pulled out a notepad and pen. “I’ll need your mother’s current address so I can send her an invitation.”
“Don’t waste your stamp.” Nick rounded the corner of the desk and hit his phone’s do-not-disturb button.
“Now, Nick, I’m sure Sylvia loves your fiancée and would be crushed if she didn’t have the opportunity to toast your engagement.” Claire smiled brightly. “In fact, Daddy told me the cutest story yesterday and I said, ‘Well, it sounds like Nick got himself a woman just like his mother!’”
Taylor shifted uneasily.
“You don’t mind if I tell it, do you?” Claire’s dark eyes flashed beguilingly at Taylor, her rosy lips turned up in a pouty smile.
“I’m not sure what story you’re talking about,” Taylor said.
“It’s the one where you visited your grandparents for the summer and wouldn’t wear the same outfit twice.” Claire shot a slanted look to Nick as if to make sure he was listening. His smile remained, but his jaw was clenched. “Daddy said you maxed out your grandfather’s credit card and then threw a fit at the mall when he told you no more clothes. It was the talk of Cedar Ridge for months. Sounds like your mother, doesn’t it, Nick?”
His eyes narrowed, and Taylor shifted beneath his gaze. She remembered that time all too well. Her mother had died that spring, and her father had set off on the campaign trail. She’d been filled with resentment over being left behind. Grandpa Bill and Nana had borne the brunt of her teenage anger and angst that summer. “I’m surprised he remembered. That was so long ago. I was barely sixteen.”
“But those are our formative years—aren’t they?” Claire smiled sweetly.
Taylor opened her mouth to respond, but Claire cut her off. “I guess I always thought Nick was looking for a different kind of woman.”
An inexplicable look of withdrawal came over Nick’s face. He remained silent, forcing Taylor to answer.
“He was,” Taylor said. “Me.”
“Of course,” Claire murmured. Her lashes swept down across her cheekbones, covering the satisfied gleam in her eyes. “Well, I need to scoot. Nick, I’ll give you a call this week and we’ll do lunch.”
“I’m not sure I can make it. But maybe you and Taylor can get together.”
“Sure.” Irritation colored Claire’s dark eyes but her smile never wavered. She grabbed her bag and rose. “Daddy and I are meeting at eleven, and he’ll have my head if I keep him waiting.”
The door couldn’t close quickly enough behind her. Taylor breathed a sigh of relief.
“I don’t think she bought it,” Nick said, rubbing his chin, his gaze focused on the closed door.
“How could you tell?”
“She was way too nice.”
“That was nice?” Taylor widened her eyes. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”
“I wish I was,” he said. “Seriously, she was being charming today.”
“Charming? That wasn’t quite the word I’d use. How could you ever have dated her?”
“We all make mistakes.” Nick motioned for Taylor to sit. He leaned against the desk, his expression thoughtful. “Claire was one of mine. And a big one.”
“I think she’s still interested, engagement or no engagement. Why, she practically threw herself at you.”
“I expected as much.” He paused and searched Taylor’s face, for what she wasn’t sure. “That’s why you’re here. To run interference so I can get some work done. But you’re going to need to loosen up. Relax a little. Otherwise, she’ll never believe this engagement is real.”
“I’m doing the best I can, but—”
“I’m not saying you don’t show promise. The kiss was pretty good.” He shot her an irresistibly devastating grin, and despite herself, her heart raced. “With a little practice, I think we could really nail it. And since we don’t have an audience now…”
His smile widened and brought out the dimples in his cheeks. She really liked those dimples.
In another instant she would have been in his arms. But it was the self-satisfied gleam in his blue eyes as he stepped forward that brought her back to reality. She pulled her gaze from his and took a deep steadying breath, forcing herself to remember the reason for today’s visit.
“Since we don’t have an audience, we need to talk about you meeting my grandparents.”
He stopped. His smile disappeared.
“Tonight,” she added.
He leaned across the desk and flipped open his planner. His gaze lowered briefly before he shook his head. “Tonight’s not good for me. I’ve—”
“Tonight,” Taylor said firmly. “I’m not putting them off any longer. Pick me up at seven.”
His lips tightened, and his eyes darkened dangerously. For a long moment she thought he’d refuse.
He snapped the appointment book shut. “Seven it is.”
She could tell he was angry, but she ignored his scowl. “Nick?”
He looked up from the pile of papers in front of him. “Yes?”
“Don’t forget to tell Miss Dietrich I’m your fiancée and she’s to put me through when I call.” Taylor’s voice oozed with a syrupy sweetness at odds with the directness of her gaze.
“Consider her told.” Nick’s gaze never wavered, but for an instant, Taylor swore something that looked a lot like respect flickered in his eyes. “See you at seven.”
Like actors with little in common except the performance, they headed their separate ways. Nick returned to his paperwork and Taylor pulled the door closed behind her.
With a little more effort on both their parts, this business arrangement could work. At the end of the summer she’d have her money and he’d have his merger. They’d go their separate ways and no one would be the wiser. No one would be hurt. It sounded reasonable. Then why did she have this sinking feeling that it wasn’t going to be that simple?
Nick leaned back in the overstuffed sofa and took a sip of espresso. Taylor’s grandmother—who’d insisted he call her Nana—sat a plate of tiny cookies on the table at his side.
His gaze slid over the festive platter, and he reached out and took a cookie. Nana’s smile widened, and Taylor shot him an approving glance.
His temporary fiancée looked especially beautiful this evening, Nick thought taking a bite and reflecting on his impulsive choice. The warm glow from the lamplight brought out the red in her hair, and her green eyes glittered like a pair of emeralds. He reached over and covered her hand with his, giving it a little squeeze.
The large diamond was hard against his palm, but he’d expected that. It was the coldness of her skin that surprised him. Obviously she was not as relaxed as she appeared. Perhaps she wasn’t as easy to read as he’d first thought.
Keeping his hand in place, Nick turned to Bill Rollins, who thankfully hadn’t insisted Nick call him anything but Bill. “Have you known Henry Waters long?”
“Actually…” Bill paused. “I’ve known Henry for almost thirty years. He and I have served on a couple of committees together and we’ve golfed in the same league for years. How about you?”
“We met at a Rotary Golf Scramble a couple of years ago,” Nick said, thinking back to his first impression of Henry. He’d dismissed the man as a loud-mouthed blowhard who drank too much. Since then he’d realized that although his first impression was correct, there was a little more to the man than met the eye. A shrewd businessman, Henry was intensely loyal to his friends and his family. Nick sighed. Hence the problem with Claire.
“I didn’t know you golfed.” Taylor’s voice broke through his thoughts. It was a simple statement but Nick nearly groaned. Instead he smiled. “Sure you did, sweetheart. Remember we talked about going out to the Lodge sometime?”
Understanding filled her eyes. She laughed. A pleasant musical sound. “Of course…how could I have forgotten?”
Bill’s eyes lit up, and he leaned forward in his chair. “If you’re free on Friday morning, some friends and I get together for eighteen. We tee off at nine.”
Nick could feel Taylor tense beside him. What was she so afraid of? That he’d bluntly turn the man down? If she knew him better, she’d realize he hadn’t gotten where he was in the business world by alienating future contacts. He’d long ago learned the value of a tactful refusal.
Nick took a deep breath and mentally framed his answer.
“Grandpa, maybe Nick would like to know who else he’d be playing with.” Taylor’s voice was soft and low beside him.
“Of course, my dear.” The smile Bill dispensed to his granddaughter was filled with love and indulgence. “You might even know them, Nick. Jack Corrigan and Tom Watts?”
A band tightened around Nick’s chest, but he kept his voice offhand. “Jack and I have met. He was one of the bidders for Henry’s company.”
Bill’s expression turned thoughtful. “I think I do remember hearing something about that. Jack had really counted on getting that bid.”
Just as I thought.
No wonder old Corrigan was still cozying up to Henry. He was probably looking for an opening, any opportunity to get Henry to change his mind. Too bad he didn’t realize he was wasting his time. There would be no opportunity. Nick would make sure of that. The refusal died on his lips. There might be some value in being a part of this foursome, after all.
“Fridays are usually good for me.” The lie slipped easily from his lips.
Pleasure lit Bill’s face, and Nick knew he’d scored some big points tonight. “We meet in the clubhouse for coffee at eight, if you’d like to join us?”
“Works for me.” Nick smiled and slipped his arm around Taylor’s shoulders. There just might end up to be more benefits to this arrangement than he’d ever dreamed.
Utterly drained, Taylor leaned her head against the leather headrest and closed her eyes.
The smooth ride of the Jag acted as a soothing balm on her frayed nerves. From the time they’d set foot in her grandparents’ house, every fiber in her body had been on alert; the enormity of the task that loomed before her was mind-boggling. What ever made her think she could convince these two people who knew her better than anyone in the world she was in love with Nick? And he was in love with her? She would have bet there wasn’t an actor alive who could pull off such a feat.
But she’d underestimated Nicholas Lanagan.
Again.
With a warm smile and an engaging manner, he’d set about convincing her grandparents he was a man in love. He was so good she almost believed him herself. She could see why he’d been so successful in his business.
“Nick, did you feel—I don’t know—uncomfortable at all this evening?”
He chuckled. “Will you bite my head off if I say no?”
She heaved a heavy sigh. “They loved you. Your champagne toast brought tears to Nana’s eyes.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“I’m just worried—”
“You worry too much.”
A year ago, worry and Taylor Rollins would never have been mentioned in the same breath. No one longed more for the carefree person she’d once been than she did. “I just hope they won’t be too upset when we break up. They’ve been hurt enough for one lifetime.”
“Losing their daughter-in-law and then their son, that would have been tough.”
A chill filled the car that had nothing to do with the air conditioner. Her mother had been dead over ten years, but discussing her father’s death still brought tears to her eyes. “It was horrible.”
“Did your father and his parents have a close relationship?”
“He was their only son. The light of their life.”
“You sound bitter.”
“Do I? I don’t mean to. I mean I’m not. My father was a great guy.”
“Tell me about him.”
“Why?”
“Your grandfather mentioned him several times. He seemed to assume I knew all about him.”
“My grandpa obviously likes you. He doesn’t talk about my father much anymore.”
“He did to me.”
“You played a convincing adoring fiancé.” Too convincing. “That toast—how did you put it again—to the woman—”
“—who made me realize that I could have all the riches in the world but be poor without her by my side. And then I added that part about you being my best friend.” He shot her a crooked grin. “Your grandparents seemed to find it very touching.”
“You’re incorrigible.” Her lips tipped up in spite of herself. No doubt about it, Nick had a certain romantic-hero type appeal.
Actresses always fall in love with their leading men.
Nonsense. She wasn’t some naive Hollywood starlet. She was a responsible adult who knew the line between fiction and reality. She had a job to do. And as long as she remembered she was playing a role, she’d be just fine.
No matter how realistic the part.
No matter how handsome the leading man.