Million Dollar Mistake (21 page)

Silence answered her.

Raven smiled as she bent over to smooth the quilt. She studied the quilted pattern. A “Drunkard’s Path“, she thought it was called, so named because the fabric patterns meandered in a haphazard way across the material. Similar to her own life, she thought pulling off her hat, scarf and gloves as she sat down. Her fingers played with the material beneath her, wondering how it had come to be here. Perhaps young lovers were meeting in this barn, or a traveler forgot it? Did they wander here just as she had, seeking—

Raven yelped as the quilt moved beneath her hand. Scrambling to the other side of the blanket, she stared at the restless lump praying, “God, don’t be a rat.”

Two big ears followed by a pointed face with whiskers and sleepy blue eyes emerged. “Meow,” the kitten complained, its appearance followed by more small movements and a chorus of mews.

Raven clapped her hands and flipped the blanket back to reveal the straw beneath cradling the small litter of kittens. “Oh, aren’t you cute?” She reached for the scruffy black and white kitten that’d first awakened. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?”

Judging by the disgruntled answer, she had.

“Where’s your mama?” she asked, looking around. “Out hunting?”

“Probably,” Nicholas answered, looming in the doorway.

“Ohmigod,” Raven gasped. “Will you quit doing that? You scared twelve years off my life.”

“Sorry,” he said as he drew off his mittens and scarf, tucking them into his pocket.

“How’d you find me?”

“I tracked you.”

“Like a boy scout, you mean?”

He chuckled. “Hardly that. You left footprints in the snow that a blindfolded hound dog with a cold could follow.”

“Oh.” She buried her nose in the kitten’s soft fur. “Now that you’ve found me, go away.”

“That’s not very friendly.”

“I don’t want to be friendly. I want to be alone.”

“No.”

“What do you mean,
no
? I can be alone if I want to. You aren’t the boss of me,” she muttered, her bottom lip jutting forward like a stubborn child.

Nicholas laughed. “That takes me back. You used to say that every time I saw you when we were younger.”

She flashed him a glance. “Still goes.”

“How about a truce?”

“Go away, Nicholas.”

Instead he sat on the quilt next to her. “Why? Because of last night? Or something else?”

“I don’t want to talk about last night.” She did, but she didn’t know how to start the conversation, especially now that she had more pressing things on her mind.

“I do.”

“No,” she stated. “Maybe I don’t want to talk about last night because of the way you reacted this morning in the drawing room.” Of course she did want to talk about what had happened last night, but on her own terms, so she tried to put him on the defensive.

He looked puzzled for a moment, then smiled. “Lorianne, you mean?”

She seized on the diversion so she didn’t have to discuss either her father’s phone call or the one Nicholas had with him earlier. “Lorianne is different than I thought.”

“I agree.”

“Well-bred, respectable, even gutsy, I think. She’d be a very good match for any important man, like yourself or—”

“Uh-huh. There’s only one problem.” His fingertip tilted her chin and turned it in his direction. “She’s not you.”

Raven was silent for a moment, confused by the warmth and longing in his eyes. She couldn’t face it, not when she wanted him so much. “No. I have a feeling she’s a lot more than I am in many ways.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t have to be, Raven.”

Her mouth drooped, with regret this time. “No, but let’s face it, my life hasn’t made much of an impression so far.”

Nicholas chuckled as he traced his finger over her full bottom lip, making her shiver. “I’m not sure I’d put it that way, sweetheart.”

“I don’t mean trying to get attention any way I could.” She shrugged, trying to slough it off. “Which I accomplished beyond my wildest dreams.”

“You’re still young and sowing wild oats. Others have done it.” His expression darkened for a moment, “Some still are.”

“Some, such as…?” She gave him an opening to mention her father, since he’d practically dropped the subject in her lap. He didn’t take it. She turned to face him, the words finally bursting out of her as if they were jet-propelled. “You called my father a wastrel, and said I’ve been following in his footsteps.”

Lifting an amused eyebrow, he leaned back a bit. “A wastrel? That’s a bit eighteenth century, don’t you think?”

“Don’t try to change the subject. Did you call him a wastrel?”

“I used a more modern term, but yes.”

“I see.”

“I doubt it,” he commented, ignoring her glare. “What else did your father say?”

“That he went down on his knees, begged you to lend him money and keep our family from ruin, but you laughed at him and refused. Is that true also?”

“Yes, I refused,” he answered in a careful tone. “But I wasn’t laughing. Far from it.”

“Then we have nothing more to say to each other, do we?”

“Yes, we do. You need to understand why I said no.”

“Besides the fact that you consider my father an idiot for making some bad investments?”

“Is that what he told you?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe you’d better ask him the rest of it?”

“What rest of it?”

Nicholas shook his head. “No, I don’t want to—”

“Are you talking about my father’s former business manager? The one Daddy discovered was abusing his trust.”

“Abusing how?”

“Hiding money, getting involved in risky deals, that sort of thing.”

“You got that from your father too?”

“Yes. He was very truthful about all of it.”

“Oh he was, was he?”

“Yes,” Raven said, with an emphatic toss of her hair. “He even went so far as to give his blessing to my marrying Jackson so I’d be taken care of as I deserved since he’d let me and the rest of the family down so terribly.”

Lips twisted, Nicholas stared back at her. “That’s noble of him.”

“Don’t you sneer at my father. Don’t you dare.”

He grabbed her arms, pulling her toward him. “Raven, for once in your life, stop hiding and face the truth.”

“Your version of the truth, you mean?”

“No, the reality of it. Your father is following in my father’s footsteps more closely than I’d like.”

“Oh please—” The light dawned and she jerked away from him. “Gambling? You’re talking about gambling? You’re crazy. Daddy doesn’t gamble. He hates Las Vegas. And,” she pointed out with a firm finger poke to Nicholas’s chest, “he doesn’t even like cards.”

“No. But he does like the ponies, the dog races, big-time sports, anything else he can find to drop a bundle on.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is true. This isn’t the first time he’s come to me to bail him out.”

“I don’t believe—”

“It’s the fifth. But this time the money is a lot bigger. The stakes are much higher. This time, he got in way over his head.”

Raven was silent, staring up at him, unwilling to accept his words but seeing the truth on his face. “No,” she finally said, “we would have known. My mother would have known.”

“Mine didn’t.”

“He said my sisters would have to cancel their weddings.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“And my mother’s health is suffering. But you don’t care.”

Nicholas flinched. “I offered him an out.”

“He said you wouldn’t help.”

“Not true. Your father turned me down.”

“No. He wouldn’t do that. Not under these—”

“He did. I offered to pay off all debts this one last time if he’d go into rehab, Gambler’s Anonymous. After that, all of his assets would go into a trust managed by me as the Kristof family representative and by someone else of his choosing.”

“Daddy could appeal to cousin Darcy.”

“Raven, I’m speaking for Darcy too. I didn’t make this decision on my own. Darcy and I talked it over.”

Her lip curled. “I’ll bet you did. And I’ll bet you enjoyed telling him, didn’t you?”

He looked hurt as well as annoyed. “No, I didn’t. It wasn’t easy saying this to your father.”

“This can’t be necessary, Nicholas. You’re prejudiced and you’ve made Darcy that way too. My father isn’t some degenerate lowlife who hangs out in smoky betting parlors. Look at his background, for heaven’s sake. He’s not like-” Raven bit her lip.

“Like my father, you mean? What? Just because your father had a royal ancestor way-back-when, he’s too good to get himself into the same situation as my mongrel dad?”

Raven laid her hand on his arm, saying gently, “I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”

“No, it didn’t. You just remember one thing, sweetheart. The litters bred from mongrels are hardier than most purebreds.”

At that moment, the black-and-white kitten tired of being ignored. It climbed into Raven’s lap, hunkering down to growl and bat at her fingers. She looked down at the scrappy kitten, for which mongrel was probably a kind description. “You’re probably right. There’s nothing impressive about this little vagabond, is there?”

“Nothing except the attitude.” Nicholas smoothed her hair back, tucking it behind her ears. “It reminds me of someone.”

Raven looked up, a slight smile trying to break through the emotion and worry she could feel tightening her face until she thought it would crack. “Anyone I know?”

“Someone I don’t want to live without.”

Raven stared into his eyes. “My father wants me to marry Jackson. If I have anything more to do with you, he threatened to cut me out of the family. Cut all rights and privileges and never speak to me again.” A wry smile twisted her lips. “I’ll bet that doesn’t include denying me the family fortune, does it?”

Responding to her humorous attempt, Nicholas smiled and touched her hand. “Not unless he agrees to my deal.”

Raven played with the kitten for a moment. “I’ve discovered something about myself recently. I’m tired of being that scared, lonely little girl who needs to be noticed. I want more than that. I don’t need a high-profile marriage to a rich up-and-coming blueblood to matter. I just need me.”

“It’s always been more than enough, Raven. You just didn’t open your eyes enough to see it. So you overcompensated.”

“Like you did?”

“You’re right,” he agreed, somewhat surprised. “With me it was money and business success. With you—”

“Notoriety and masculine attention. Something Freudian in that, I’m sure.” She was quiet for a moment, then chuckled. “Growing up isn’t for wimps, is it?”

Nicholas tickled the kitten. “Some find it easier than others. No matter what type of litter they come from.”

“I hate to tell you this, but you’re not the only mongrel in the family, Nicholas. My parents prefer to forget it, but my branch of the family tree also sprang from a disreputable great-great-grandfather who drank his way through every bar in the territory, scraping rocks from the ground before he finally struck a massive silver deposit.”

Nicholas grinned. “I forgot about that too.”

“So did I. Maybe it’s time I put more of that scrappy part of my heritage to good use.”

“You’re not going to do what your father wishes?”

“I’m not going to marry Jackson, if that’s what you mean.”

He grinned. “It wasn’t. That’s a given.”

“You think so?”

“I know so, sweetheart. I have other plans for you.”

Her heart was beating so loudly she wondered if he could hear it. Wanting to ask what he meant, but delaying the moment to let the anticipation build, much like a slow devastating orgasm, she returned to her concern about her father, “I have no choice but to tackle my father with the truth.”

Nodding, Nicholas looked doubtful. “I hope he’ll listen to you.”

Her jaw firmed. “He’ll listen.”

Nicholas gave her a wry smile. “Somehow, I think you’re right.”

“If I get him into rehab, will you help him again? Or is that offer off the table?”

Nicholas looked away for a moment. “I’m tempted to say it’s off just so he’ll finally stand up and take responsibility for his actions, but,” he looked back at her, his expression making her quiver, “I can’t do that. Not anymore. So, yes, the offer’s still on the table. It’s the only way I’ll ever get what I want out of this mess.”

She held her breath, then plunged. “What do you want, Nicholas?”

His eyes met hers. “I want you.”

Even as she tried to keep her pride, she knew her expression revealed the hurt and humiliation she was feeling from their encounter the night before. “You could have had me. You stopped, remember?”

“We need to talk about last night.”