Meddling with a Millionaire (13 page)

But at least
he
was trying.

“Do you really think I'd do that?” Nathan demanded, breathing hard. “Don't you see that I'm as much a part of this family and this business as you are? Of course you don't. You never let me be a part of anything you and Sebastian did. Frankly, I don't know why I'm busting my ass to bring this deal to Case Consolidated Holdings when I could do it on my own.”

He stopped speaking, his hands clenching with the force of the rage that had risen up in him. The intensity of his emotions shocked him. He used to be cool under pressure. What had happened to the guy who bluffed professional gamblers with nothing but a two of hearts and a five of spades in his hand?

“So do the deal without us.” Max shrugged. “You don't like it here anyway. I don't know why you don't just head out on your own.”

This is exactly the sort of ultimatum he'd wanted to avoid
since returning to Houston and coming to work with his brothers. Max had tossed down the gauntlet.

“What's going on in here?” Sebastian entered the room and stood between Max and Nathan. He glanced from one brother to the other.

“Max doesn't seem to think I belong at this company,” Nathan explained, unable to wrestle his bitterness to manageable levels. “And I'm starting to agree with him.”

“Why is that?”

“I have a different vision for the company's future.”

“And because you show up out of the blue—”

Nathan interrupted Max with a low growl. “I was brought in by Dad.”

“So that gives you the right to push us to make changes. The company was profitable before you showed up. It will be profitable after you leave,” Max shot back.

Around and around again with the same old arguments. The three of them could accomplish a hell of a lot more if they just stopped antagonizing each other.

Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look. We agreed that I'd have until today to get the deal done. If it doesn't happen, you'll never hear me mention Montgomery Oil again.”

 

Valentine's Day had started out gray and overcast, but the sun had made an appearance by the time Emma let herself into Nathan's condo. She juggled three bags from expensive downtown boutiques and kicked the door closed. Shopping had never been less fun. Would she ever again spend money without thinking of all the hard work that went into earning it? She was no longer the overindulged girl she'd been six months ago. She'd learned the lesson that her father had intended.

Not that it mattered. Despite how well she'd done at the Baton Rouge show, she was almost $10,000 short of her goal. She'd screwed up her chance to prove to her father that she
could support herself and lost the bet she'd made with him. Honor demanded that she marry Nathan.

Sure, she could renege and walk away a free woman. Losing her trust fund no longer bothered her. The last six weeks had demonstrated that she could take care of herself. But she'd like her word to count for something. And if she'd won and her father lost, she'd expect him to live up to his end of the bargain. She could do no less.

As to how she felt about becoming Mrs. Nathan Case…

Emma stripped off her clothes and stepped beneath the shower, her thoughts locked on Nathan. On the long drive back from Baton Rouge, she'd had lots of time to think. Since moving in with him, some shift in her perception had occurred.

As hot water cascaded over her body, she shut her eyes and imagined his hands roving over her, his long, muscular frame sliding against her bare skin, awakening her desires, his deep voice crooning encouragement as they moved together. He did things to her body she'd never experienced before.

And he made her happy. He took care of her needs both in and out of bed. Feeling cherished and fussed over had opened the door to her considering Nathan's opinions about marriage. She'd learned enough about him in the last couple weeks to decide that he'd make a great husband. He was committed to their relationship and concerned about her needs.

Still, she knew passion would never be enough for her. But what if it was combined with respect and affection? Emma wasn't sure. Marriages failed even when the couple loved each other. Could she and Nathan make it without a strong emotional bond?

Emma exited the shower and dried her hair. It was Valentine's Day. Her day of reckoning. Although Nathan hadn't mentioned the deal with her father since they'd returned from Baton Rouge, she knew he was gearing up for a romantic evening with a marriage proposal at its core.

Was it reasonable to surmise that she could continue to be happy with Nathan, knowing he would resist losing his heart to her? He sang joyful songs of love and forever, but he didn't believe a single word. Yet each chorus, every verse spoke to her, seduced her into believing that he could fall in love if he found the right woman.

And more than anything, she longed to be that right woman.

Her heart stopped. Something inside her clicked into place. The final piece of a puzzle that made the picture whole.

No wonder she was considering marrying him when she'd determined from the first that she wanted a fairy-tale ending. That she deserved to marry a man who adored her.

She loved Nathan.

What she'd feared would happen had come to pass. She'd fallen for him. Hard. And Nathan wasn't ready to let her in. To love her. He might never be. Was she really prepared to settle for that?

Her cell phone rang. She plucked it from her purse and answered it.

“Are you done with your errands?”

Despite the long hours spent stretched out in bed beside him, beneath him, on top of him the previous evening, hearing Nathan's voice awakened that familiar ache in her body.

“All done.”

“Can you meet me in an hour?”

“What did you have in mind?” Despite her somber mood a moment ago, salacious thoughts began a slow striptease in her head. It did no good to wallow in misery when just talking to Nathan aroused her.

“I had been thinking about lunch, unless you had a little afternoon delight in mind.”

“Why couldn't we do both? Surely there's a hotel somewhere nearby your office that offers room service.” A picture
formed in her mind. She took a moment and savored the fantasy while Nathan's voice rumbled in her ear.

“Are you listening to me?”

“No, sorry. I was mentally undressing you. What was that you were saying?” she asked.

A muffled curse filled her ear. “Pack a bag. I've booked a suite at the Four Seasons.”

“I'm on my way.”

Emma ended the call and touched her lips, fingertip gliding from one end of her wide grin to the other. She should be worried that the man made her wild with anticipation after just a phone call. He was a heartbreak ready to happen, but she'd promised herself no more worrying about the future. Just live in the moment.

Easier said than done, but an hour later she strolled into the hotel lobby and spotted Nathan. He sat on one of the comfortable couches, reading the newspaper and looking every inch the corporate executive. For a moment she stopped and stared at him, her heart pounding.

Gone was her sexy seducer in jeans and bare chest. In a custom-tailored navy suit with a crisp white shirt and butter-yellow silk tie, he'd become a tycoon once more. The exact sort who'd be in business with her father. Her heart hit her toes.

Nathan looked up and caught her staring at him. His eyebrows rose slowly, giving her blood a chance to heat. The lazy smile that followed became her undoing.

“Hello, handsome,” she said, sauntering over on shaky legs to sit beside him on the couch. She angled her body toward him and crossed one leg over the other, trying her best to look seductive. She'd worn an emerald-green sheath that skimmed her curves and bared her arms. “Come here often?”

His gaze toured her ankles and calves before taking in the rest of her Dior-clad body. By the time he reached her face,
she buzzed with desire. He folded the paper and used it to tap her bare knee.

“Obviously not often enough if you represent their clientele. I have a suite reserved. Could I interest you in a drink?”

“While that sounds lovely, I'm afraid I'm waiting for my lover. We rendezvous every Thursday at one. He is very handsome and very sexy.”

“And very late. It is already five minutes after one.” Nathan flicked his cuff over his watch and his lips curved in a his-loss-my-gain smile. “Have a drink with me. A man should never keep a beautiful woman waiting.”

“Well, since you put it that way.”

Emma laughed as Nathan pulled her to her feet.

He sent a bellboy to fetch her things. In the suite, while Nathan tipped the man and sent him on his way, Emma pulled out the room service menu and flipped through it. Nathan came to stand behind her, his fingers grasping the zipper at her nape.

“Hungry?” He slid the zipper down her back and bent to kiss her shoulder.

Emma turned in his arms, letting the dress fall to her feet. “Dessert first.”

 

Wrapped in a plush towel provided by the hotel, Emma dried her hair and regarded her reflection. Her eyes sparkled with secret delight and an irrepressible smile lifted the corners of her mouth. She glowed the way a woman who'd spent the afternoon being the object of a man's adoring caresses ought to. Thank goodness it wasn't illegal to feel this wonderful.

Just thinking about the exquisite way Nathan had plied her body made her shiver anew at the realization that they had all night to indulge in more such perfect loving. Of course, if they continued at their current pace, she might be dead of exhaustion by morning. But what a way to go.

“What are you thinking about?” Nathan returned from the
bedroom where he'd been ordering room service. He stepped behind her and met her gaze in the mirror.

“You,” she replied, her smile turning salacious. “On the dining table in the other room, covered in whipped cream and chocolate sauce.”

His brows rose. “I think it's your turn.” His hands snaked around her waist to loosen the robe's belt.

“We can't,” she protested, turning off the hair dryer so she could clutch the robe closed. “Dinner first. I've got to eat to keep my strength up.”

“You don't need strength for what I have in mind. Just lie back and let me do all the work.” His grin was pure wolf.

She laughed, but continued to defend herself from his questing hands. Breathless with rising desire and from resisting his efforts to separate her from the robe, she was only half-relieved when a knock on the door announced room service.

While Nathan went to let the waiter in, Emma quickly checked her voice mail. She was hoping for a call from a woman who'd been interested in commissioning a piece of jewelry from her. Granted, it was too late for her to use the money toward winning the wager with her father, but this sort of business would provide a whole new source of income.

She wondered how Nathan would take the news that she intended to keep designing and producing jewelry after they married. He'd told her over and over that he wanted to take care of her, but she'd proved that she could take care of herself. She was proud of the business she'd started and the success she'd had. She had no intention of giving it up because she no longer needed the money she made from it.

Two messages had come in during the afternoon. One from Addison, wishing her good luck on her evening with Nathan. The second was from Thomas McCann at Biella's. She'd called him earlier, hoping against hope that he'd had some luck selling the pieces that hadn't sold at the Baton
Rouge show. He'd been out, so she'd had to leave a message. Crossing her fingers, she listened.

“Emma, I'm glad you called. I have good news. We've sold all the new stuff you brought us. The buyers mentioned seeing your work at a recent charity event. I have a check for almost $11,000 waiting for you. And we'd really like it if you'd bring us more of your jewelry.”

In stunned disbelief, Emma ended the call. She set the phone on the dresser, scarcely able to wrap her head around what she'd heard. She'd done it. She'd met her goal by the deadline.

She would get her trust fund back. She could remodel her loft. Buy new equipment. Secure studio space. Market her designs and grow her business.

She was no longer obligated to marry Nathan.

Emma's stomach muscles clenched in distress.

She loved Nathan. She might not have come to terms with marrying a man who couldn't or wouldn't love her, but she'd accepted that she was going to honor the bet with her father.

Now everything was different. She was free to choose whether or not to marry Nathan.

In some ways, things had gotten much worse. Free will left her wide open to mistakes.

Before coming here tonight, she'd accepted that he didn't love her and had grown accustomed to the idea of marrying him anyway. No, more than that, a part of her wanted to be his wife. She couldn't imagine living without him.

But if she followed her heart and married him, would she eventually grow dissatisfied and spend the rest of her life angry at herself and resenting him? All she needed was some sign, some admission, that his feelings for her were stronger than affection.

And if he didn't love her? Was she prepared to walk away?

She stared around the bedroom. Nathan had staged the
perfect romantic scene with roses, candles and chocolate-covered strawberries. She took in the unmade bed, where they'd spent the afternoon in sensual decadence, and the red roses on the dresser.

Instead of opening into full blossoms, the buds drooped on their sturdy stems. Emma knew the flowers were dying. They'd looked so beautiful, so perfect this afternoon when she and Nathan had first entered the lavish suite. But their loveliness had been an illusion. They were never going to last.

Was that a sign that she and Nathan weren't going to last, either?