Taylor hung up the phone and heaved a sigh of relief. Since the picnic Nick had been extremely busy at work and he hadn’t been able to fit any “together” time into his schedule. She’d wondered how he’d react to her invitation to attend church with her and her grandparents on Sunday. Would he refuse to go? Or see it for what it was? A way to convince her grandparents that this engagement was the real thing. Thankfully, he’d agreed to go.
Nana and Grandpa Bill hadn’t wasted any time telling Pastor Schmidt about her engagement, and she’d been shocked to discover that the pastor had recently spoken to Nick. According to the minister, Nick was currently in the process of transferring his membership from a Denver congregation and was anxious to get involved with some of the standing committees. She’d had to smile and act as if she knew all about it.
Her grandfather had beamed at the news and made sure the pastor knew that the finance committee he chaired could use another member.
Taylor leaned back against the sofa, her mind a jumbled mass of confusing thoughts and feelings. As happy as she was to hear about Nick’s interest in the church, something didn’t ring true. If he was so interested in church, why had he insisted they attend the early service so “only the morning would be wasted”?
She’d had to bite her tongue. Praising God wasn’t ever a waste of time, but how Nick led his life wasn’t her business. He was her employer. Maybe once she knew him better, she could subtly mention he might want to look at his priorities.
Once she knew him better?
She chuckled at the thought, a twinge of sadness underlying her amusement. Nick was a stranger. And she needed to remember that by the time she got to know him better, he’d be history.
Nick hung up the phone, unable to keep an irritated scowl from his lips.
He’d made his obligatory daily call to Taylor. As he’d told Erik, a phone call was a small price to pay to keep in touch and head off any unforeseen problems before they developed. And it didn’t take a lot of time. After all, what was five minutes in the total scheme of things? If he called from the office, he could still be productive and review his e-mail or sign some checks while she talked.
Not that he didn’t like Taylor or enjoy her company. And he especially liked kissing her. At the picnic there had been absolutely no reason for him to kiss her in front of Erik. Erik knew the score, knew the engagement was a sham. Nick didn’t need to make a point. The simple truth was he did it for the pure enjoyment.
His gaze slid to the picture of her that now graced the top of his desk. She’d stopped by the day after the dinner with her grandparents and left it for him, along with a note. She’d been right on target, and he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it. Surely, a man would have a picture of his fiancée somewhere in his office.
His lips tilted upward in a smile. The picture was a good one, but then, he reminded himself, Taylor was a beautiful woman.
Is that why he’d said yes to her request? Because she was beautiful? Or because deep down he’d really wanted to see her again?
All he knew was, when she’d mentioned church, his gaze had shifted momentarily from his computer screen with its endless e-mail messages to her picture, lingering on those full lips, and he’d found himself saying yes, he’d accompany her and her grandparents on Sunday.
Thankfully, he’d retained enough of his good sense to insist they attend the early morning service. Going to the late one almost guaranteed that not only his morning but the whole day would be wasted.
Eventually he would get to know the members of this congregation better and the time would be well spent. As his father used to say, church was a good way of making new contacts and of strengthening the old. His mother would always bristle, insisting that that was not the purpose of church. His father paid her no mind. He’d just laugh, slap Nick on the back and make some comment about women not having a head for business.
Sylvia may not have understood business but she certainly understood how to spend money. Nick’s lips tightened. Lots of money. So much that the company had been on the verge of bankruptcy by the time Nick had taken over.
A familiar bitterness welled deep inside Nick. She should have spent more time tending to his father’s needs when he was sick rather than dragging him to all those parties. And each time with a new designer dress or some ostentatious piece of jewelry bought specifically for the occasion.
According to the housekeeper, his parents had fought continuously about money that last year. Away at college, Nick heard all about it from the housekeeper, a woman intensely loyal to his father. She’d had nothing good to say about Sylvia Lanagan’s behavior.
Nick’s heart ached with sympathy for his father. He’d come home as often as he could, but he’d been a senior that year and it hadn’t been near enough. If only he could have seen what was happening. If only…
Nick shoved aside the nonproductive thoughts. He had no time to waste on regrets. Only one thing was important—the merger with Waters Inc. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else was worth a second thought.
The door to Nick’s office swung open. He spoke without looking up. “Just put the folders on the counter, Miss Dietrich.”
“The old hag is down the hall at the copy machine.”
The feminine voice was all too familiar. Nick could barely hide his groan. “Claire, I’m kind of busy here.”
The overpowering scent of musk drew close. Nick kept his gaze on the troubling report from his new product chief.
Claire snatched the paper out of his hands. He jerked it back and glared at her.
She laughed, a pleased expression blanketing her carefully made-up face. “Still the same old Nick.”
“Who else would I be?” This time he didn’t even try to hide his irritation.
“I don’t know.” She pressed one finger to her lips and tilted her head as if pretending to think. “Maybe a love-struck fool?”
“Give it up, Claire.”
She settled into the soft leather of the chair and looked at him innocently. “I’m just trying to make conversation. No need to bite my head off.”
His fingers tightened around the edge of the desk. What was there about Claire Waters that pushed all his buttons?
“You’re awfully cranky today. Are you and the girlfriend not getting along?” Her gaze turned sharp and assessing.
“Her name is Taylor,” Nick said bluntly. “And for your information we’re getting along just fine.”
Claire twirled a strand of dark hair slowly around one finger. “If you say so.”
He blew out a breath and gave in to the inevitable. Nick shoved the papers aside and leaned back in his chair. “Five minutes. You can have five minutes.”
For the first time since she’d walked through his office door, Claire let some irritation show. Her dark eyes shot sparks, but her voice was well controlled. “You’re an arrogant jerk, Nick Lanagan. No wonder I find you so appealing.”
Nick raised a brow. “The clock’s ticking. You’ve got three minutes.”
“All right.” Claire leaned forward in her chair. “Daddy was going to call you but I said I’d stop by and ask you personally. He wants you to meet us for breakfast Sunday morning. Some guy that heads his operations area in New Jersey is going to be in town.”
A surge of excitement swept through Nick. After all these years, it was finally coming together. The Waters Inc. data warehousing operation would soon be his, and this meeting with Henry’s operations chief only confirmed the reality. Sunday couldn’t come soon enough.
Sunday.
His stomach twisted in a knot.
“Sunday morning’s not good.” He offered Claire his most engaging smile, wishing he’d been nicer to her earlier. “How about in the afternoon?”
“He’s leaving at noon.”
Nick raked his fingers through his hair. “I can make it any other time.”
“That’s the only time he’s available.” Claire rose effortlessly from the chair. “What’s the problem? If I know you, it can’t be because you want to sleep late.”
Sleep late? There hadn’t been a day in the last four years that he’d risen past seven.
If only his reason could be that simple. Bill Rollins might understand him skipping church, but he’d promised Taylor… Nick brought himself up short. Why was he so worried about her? She worked for him. He didn’t owe her anything, least of all an explanation.
“On second thought, Sunday morning will work.” Nick pushed back his chair, stood and rounded the desk. He gestured toward the door. “Let Miss Dietrich know the time and place on your way out.”
Instead of heading toward the door, Claire moved closer. So close the overpowering scent of her perfume surrounded him. So close it took only one simple movement for her to reach up and pull his face to hers. For her mouth to meet his. Her lips were warm with a hint of promise.
And left him cold.
“Mr. Lanagan.” Miss Dietrich’s disapproving voice sounded from the doorway.
“Yes, Miss Dietrich?” Nick took a step back. He resisted the urge to brush away the taste of Claire from his lips with the back of his hand.
Claire smiled brightly at the secretary, her expression filled with satisfaction. At that moment Nick could see why Erik called her Catwoman. She looked like a cat that had just swallowed a canary.
Disapproval radiated from every inch of Miss Dietrich’s ramrod stiff posture. The older woman’s gaze slid dismissively over Claire before meeting Nick’s head-on. “Your fiancée called.”
Nick cleared his throat and forced an interested smile. “Did she leave a message?”
“I told her you were in conference. She wanted you to call when you were free.”
“Miss Waters is just leaving.” He’d done nothing wrong, so why did he feel like he had?
Claire ran a long red fingernail up his sleeve. “But we were just getting started.”
Nick leveled her a warning glance. “Goodbye, Claire.”
She hesitated then shrugged. “I’ve got some business to take care of anyway.” Claire’s lofty gaze settled on the secretary. “Mr. Lanagan is meeting me at nine a.m. on Sunday at the Heritage Hotel. Be sure and put it on his calendar.”
Her request was imperious and clearly designed to put Miss Dietrich in her place.
It didn’t work.
Miss Dietrich drew herself up to full stature and turned with a disdainful sniff.
Shocked, Claire’s eyes widened. Nick hid a grin behind his hand. Claire would soon learn that no one got the best of Miss Dietrich. Not even Henry Waters’s little princess.
Impatiently, Nick shifted in the high-backed wooden chair and wondered if it would be rude to leave. They’d started talking business the second he’d sat down, rather than wasting time in idle chit-chat. He appreciated that fact since the purpose of the meeting was business, not social. But now the talk had turned personal, and bored stiff with the aimless chatter, Nick turned his attention to his surroundings.
The Pioneer Room of the historic Heritage Hotel had been recently remodeled and no expense had been spared. The rustic wagon-wheel motif had been replaced by more elegant appointments that few early settlers would have recognized. Stained glass depicting life in the old west topped each window, and original prints and artwork from the era were strategically placed along the walls.
Nick waved away another cup of coffee and glanced down the table, noting the linen tablecloth, the sterling silverware and the crystal glasses. Fine china replaced the rustic glazed mugs favored by the previous owners.
The waitress removed the last of the empty plates, and Nick couldn’t have said what he’d eaten. Jack Corrigan’s unexpected presence at the table when he’d arrived had effectively killed his appetite.
Clint Donovan, Henry’s operations chief, sat with Jack on the other side of the table, while Claire sat between Nick and Henry. All through the meal Claire had rubbed her foot up the side of his pant leg. He’d done his best to ignore her.
“Nick, how’s that beautiful fiancée of yours doing?” Jack added two spoonfuls of sugar to his coffee and took a sip.
“Great.” Nick’s smile was genuine. Taylor had surprised him and been a real trooper about the change in plans. Of course, he’d met her more than halfway by offering to call her grandparents and explain about the meeting.
“Fiancée?” Clint quirked a brow.
“Nick is engaged to Taylor Rollins.” Jack explained before Nick could answer. “Her father was Robert Rollins, the senator who died in that car accident last year.”
Clint glanced from Claire to Nick, a puzzled frown on his face. “But I thought you two…”
Nick’s jaw clenched. “Claire and I were dating at one time. She left town. I met Taylor. The rest is history.”
Clint shifted his openly curious gaze to Henry.
“I made no secret of the fact that I hoped my Claire and Nick would end up together.” Henry heaved a sigh. “But I can’t blame him. She had to go take that job in D.C.”
Claire ignored her father’s censuring glance and leaned across the table. She crooked a finger to Clint. He leaned forward. In a conspiratorial whisper, Claire spoke just loud enough for everyone at the table to hear. “What Daddy is trying to say is Taylor got him on the rebound.”
Nick took a deep breath and counted to ten.
Claire smiled. Although she spoke to Clint, her gaze never left Nick’s face. “I’ve tried to tell him now that I’m back he doesn’t have to settle for second best.”
“Claire!” Henry exclaimed.
Jack Corrigan choked on his coffee.
Clint quirked a brow.
Nick’s hands clenched into fists, and he forced a laugh. “I don’t think anyone who ever met Taylor would consider her a second-choice kind of woman, Claire.”
Claire shrugged and sipped her mimosa.
“It must have been hard to lose the contract.” Clint turned to Jack in an obvious effort to change the subject and make up for his earlier gaffe. “Those bids were so close.”
It was all Nick could do not to groan out loud. Of all the topics for the man to pick, why did he have to choose that one?
The uneasy tension that had settled over the table thickened.
“So I understand,” Jack said with an easy smile. “But that was Henry’s call.”
Henry’s call.
Nick could tell that even now Jack didn’t understand why he’d lost the bid. After all, Jack and Henry were friends from way back. What would have made him choose Nick?
Claire’s hand on his thigh reminded him of the answer. Keeping a smile on his face, Nick reached under the white linen and captured her wrist, effectively stopping the upward migration of her fingers.
A twinkle of amusement flashed in Claire’s eyes, and she blew him a kiss. Henry’s gaze turned sharp and assessing. A glimmer of hope reflected in their dark beady depths.
Nick pretended not to notice. He lifted his coffee cup with his free hand and nonchalantly took a sip of the lukewarm brew.
He’d been right all along. Henry had chosen Lanagan Associates because he hoped Nick would one day be his son-in-law. Now Henry valued his reputation too much to back out of the deal without having a valid business reason. But if Nick should become involved again with Claire, all bets were off.
Nick downed the last of the cold coffee and settled back in his chair. As long as he kept this fake engagement on track and Claire at bay, at the end of the summer everything would be just as he planned. Waters Inc. would be his.