Million Dollar Mistake (3 page)

“She makes me laugh and takes my breath away when I look at her. That’s what she does to me.”

“Hell’s Bells, son, I could introduce you to a dozen high-priced whores who could do the same thing.”

“Watch yourself,” Jackson warned. “You’re talking about the woman I’m considering marrying.”

Raven almost jumped out of her chair
. Marry? Ohmigod
. She was right.

“Marry, is it? Have you lost every bit of sense you were born with? You can’t marry her. I forbid it.”

“You forbid it? I’m not a child, I’m twenty-eight. I’ll marry anyone I damn well please.”

“No, you won’t. I control the money, Jackson. And I’m still the head of the family. I haven’t worked all these years to see my son throw it away because the front of his pants are too tight.”

“I haven’t even had sex with her. My feelings are stronger than that.”

“Oh, listen to yourself. You sound like a lovesick calf. If you want to moon over someone, moon about Lorianne. She’s someone who can do you some good.”

“Will you stop shoving Lorianne down my throat every two seconds?” Jackson snapped.

“Not till you come to your senses.”

“Lorianne is part of my childhood. I grew up.”

“Grown-ups fulfill their obligations, son.”

“Their obligations?” Jackson’s voice was not only hot with temper, it dripped with sarcasm. “Don’t you mean I’m supposed to fulfill your political ambitions? Did you ever ask me if it’s what I want?”

“It’s always been understood that—”

Jackson gave a sharp, unpleasant laugh. “If it means so much to you, Father, why the hell don’t you run for office instead of laying it all on me?” A slamming door punctuated the end of Jackson’s statement.

“Son of a bitch,” J.R. swore, “what did I ever do to have such an ungrateful, idiotic pup? Damn boy takes after his mother.” Leaving that statement hanging in the air like wet wash on a line, J.R. left the library, too.

Only then did Raven dare exhale. She could practically feel the scorch marks where J.R.’s tongue had flicked fire at her character, or lack thereof. Her face flushed with shame. She didn’t want to be the object of derision. No one did. Nor did she want to be a chisel prying a father and son apart. Snow or not, she’d have to pack and leave.

That decided, Raven rose and tiptoed across the loft toward the second floor doorway, which she’d discovered the day before. She eased the door open, glancing in each direction before setting a cautious foot into the hallway. She skulked along the corridor. Just as she passed the stairs to the main floor entrance hall, the doorbell rang, its distinctive sound echoing around the huge center foyer below her. Raven stopped, turning to glance over her shoulder, looking down at the people below. Lorianne and Margaret had just wandered in from the sitting room when the bell peeled, while Jackson was crossing the hall toward the back of the house, his father in hot pursuit. The only person missing was Nana, who had retired to her room for a brief rest after lunch.

Lorianne pulled open the door, stepping back out of the way as a gust of wind and snow blew in along with a six-foot-two inch male. He was clapping his hands to rid his gloves of snowflakes, then he stopped and shook his broad shoulders and dark head like a dog coming in from the rain.

“Oh,” Lorianne gasped, struggling with the door as the wind continued to gust. The man merely stretched a long arm and closed the door in a competent manner. “Oh, thank you. The wind’s very strong.”

Nicholas Demetrious looked down, giving Lorianne a charming smile, his teeth very white against his dark tanned skin, his eyes warm and amused. “My pleasure,” he said, his voice smooth chocolate liqueur mingling with the rich cream of a slight southern drawl.

Devastating.

Stunned by his sudden appearance, Raven shivered as she watched Nicholas work his sexy magic on Lorianne. There was power there. Power accompanied by a sense of humor that always made Raven wonder what he found so amusing. He set her teeth on edge and had since he’d first turned his quizzical glance on her as a child. She and Nicholas were like oil and water after the match was dropped. He was a magnificent and very sexy animal. She could appreciate him, even as she was wary enough to keep her distance. For all of Nicholas’s smooth sophistication and charm, he reminded her of a panther dressed in a too-tight tuxedo. If he ever really unbuttoned—

Raven shivered again.

“Good timing. Got here just ahead of another big storm, I see,” J.R. said.

“Barely. I got caught in one on the way here yesterday. I had to stay in some little motel last night.” Nicholas unbuttoned his overcoat and removed his gloves to hand both to a hovering Lorianne. “The roads are really getting treacherous.”

Raven shook her head and recovered her wits.
What the bloody hell is Nicholas doing here?

Coincidence? Could be. But knowing how Nicholas worked, she doubted it. No matter, if fate in the shape of Nicholas was stepping in, then she’d use it.

Raven moved closer to the railing in the upper hall, feeling as if she were seated in a front-row theatre box. The moment and the players were etched onto her memory. The hallway thrown into sharp shadows from the storm outside, the titter of polite conversation, and Nicholas—all charm and appealing danger—standing calmly in the center of it.

Her nerves continued to tingle as Nicholas greeted Jackson, who suddenly resembled a teenage pup standing in the shadow of a mastiff. Nicholas was only three or four years older than Jackson, but in terms of experience and sheer presence, he overwhelmed the man shaking his hand. That’s when she got the idea. Her lips curved in a smile that her mother, had she been around, would have told everyone in the vicinity to beware.

She must have made some sound because suddenly she found herself looking straight down into Nicholas’s alert gaze. She couldn’t pull away. Her breath caught as he took a small step forward, head lifted, eyes gleaming. Suddenly, she remembered that she couldn’t wrap him around her finger as she did most men. For a moment she faltered, then stiffened her resolve.
Showtime.

“Nicky,” she purred, loud enough to capture attention as she tilted her lips into her most alluring smile.

Raven ran along the hall to the stairway and practically danced down the steps, her hand trailing lightly over the railing for balance. Her eyes never left Nicholas’s, not even when she saw the wary question in his.

“Nicky, darling.”

She spread her arms wide and raced toward him, giving everyone the impression that she was a woman on her way to her lover from whom she’d been separated for eons.

“Oh, Nicky, you came.”

She flung herself into his arms, leaping up to clamp her legs around his hips, her arms encircling his neck.

Thank God the man had good reflexes. With a sharp exhaled “Whoosh!” he grabbed her and adjusted his stance as he wrapped his arms around her body to pull her close.

Without giving herself time to consider the wisdom of the move, Raven fastened her lips to his, but not before she caught a glimpse of uncharacteristic astonishment in his eyes. That shocked her so much—Nicholas always seemed in control—that she forgot to be careful. Her lips sank into his, stunned by the soft texture of that firm, well-shaped mouth that was usually scowling at her.

But not now.

Her lips opened, relaxing into the kiss, the heat of him warming her, beckoning her to come closer, to singe her wings. Then for an instant, reality returned.

What am I doing?

The opportunity to stop was lost as Nicholas responded, his hand cupping the back of her head to hold her mouth on his when she started to draw away. His mouth took control, his tongue darting forward to open her lips farther before slipping inside for a light caress. She could feel her breasts swell, her nipples automatically harden, much as he was hardening against the sensitive V where her passion lived. Her legs tightened as she pressed closer. Where this might have gone was up for grabs. Luckily for both of them, the background noise rushed to the foreground.

“Raven,” Jackson cried. “What are you doing?”

“Good lord. This is outrageous,” Margaret sniffed.

“I see you two know each other,” from J.R. with a manly chuckle.

“Oh,” sighed Lorianne, “how romantic.”

Recalled to the present, Raven lifted her head, her reluctant lips leaving those of Nicholas. With a small, “Oh, wow,” she unclasped her legs, allowing herself to slide down his body. Her eyes met Nicholas’s. The passion she’d surprised in them was rapidly being replaced by his guarded gaze.

“Never a dull moment,” he muttered, so low she wasn’t sure if she imagined it.

“What?”

“What a nice welcome. Maybe I should go out and come in again,” he said in a light tone, which belied his tense mouth and firm jaw as he continued to stare at her, obviously wondering what was coming next.

Raven slipped her arm through his, turning to half face the group while keeping her gaze firmly on his as she said, “This is my fi…” The word fiancé stuck in her throat. Suddenly the impulsive plan she’d concocted when she first saw Nicholas seemed a disaster. “This is my f-friend, Nicholas Demetrious.”

She risked a quick peek around at their audience. They stood as if petrified, shocked into silence. Raven took that moment to seek Nicholas’s gaze, to try to read his expression. He was looking at her with a calculating gleam in his smoke-gray eyes that made her wonder if all of her brain cells had died. She might as well dangle red meat before a starving predator as involve Nicholas in one of her schemes.

“Friend,” Nicholas queried with just enough playful suggestiveness to add fuel to the fire she’d already set.

“Point taken.” She pasted a smile on her face. “My cousin, actually.”

Oh, why couldn’t she hit rewind? Tell everyone the kiss was a mistake, that it was just a joke. Before she could say a word, everyone started speaking at once, but one imperious voice cut through the din.

“Child, are you telling us that this is your
cousin
?”

“Kissing cousin, I’ll bet,” Lorianne giggled. Then she shut up as everyone sent her a look that could have fried eggs.

Raven turned to look at Nana standing in the center of the staircase. She found it hard to meet the old woman’s shrewd eyes; sure she must be seeing right through her. “Um, yes, my cousin. We’re not closely related, not blood-relations or anything…” The hole was getting deeper.

Rescue came from an unexpected source. “But we have been getting closer,” Nicholas commented with a smile. “Much closer.”

“Obviously,” Margaret said.

Nana looked confused. “I thought you came here with Jackson?“

“Yes, I, um, I did.” Raven hung her head, her feigned shame a bit too real for her comfort. “Nicholas and I…had a fight, you see, and then I met…um, I left Nicky a message, but he didn’t, so I came… Well, anyway, I behaved in a stupid, impulsive, irrational—”

“Oh, now there’s a surprise,” Nicholas murmured in her ear, taking a firmer grip on her arm.

She couldn’t help but glare up at him, before turning back to Nana. “I thought we were over, but now he’s here and…” Raven allowed herself to trail off, the very picture of confused womanhood. She peeked at her audience to see their reaction, trying to avoid looking at Jackson. She knew she’d have to deal with him, but was determined to put it off as long as possible. Maybe she could just write a note? Probably not an option.

“Now everything is just peachy fine, I suppose?” The razor sharp eyes that sliced from her to Nicholas and then back again belied Nana’s soft comment.

Nicholas answered, “We still have a few things to sort out.” He gripped Raven’s waist, pulling her closer. “Wouldn’t you agree, sweetheart?”

Raven had no problem recognizing the threat in that statement. “Oh, without a doubt.” She was a bit unnerved when she heard Nicholas’s soft chuckle.

“Raven,” Jackson said, his tone tense and sharp, “I want to talk to you.”

“I think this situation calls for a drink.” Nana took control, switching her focus from Raven to her son and daughter-in-law. “Don’t you, J.R., Margaret?”

 
Always the society hostess, Margaret nodded. “Yes, of course. Shall we go in by the fire?” She and J.R. moved toward the living room. “Lorianne, dear, would you ask Tilda for some tea, coffee and those little sandwiches she does so well?”

Lorianne placed Nicholas’s coat on a chair, sending a reluctant look over her shoulder before walking down the hall to the kitchen.

Nana continued down the stairs. “Jackson,” she said in an autocratic voice, extending her hand to her grandson, stopping him as he stepped toward Raven and Nicholas. “Let’s give them some privacy, shall we?”

Jackson halted mid-stride and looked back at his grandmother.

“I’m thirsty, Jackson.”

With a glare in Raven and Nicholas’s direction, Jackson muttered, “I could use a strong drink myself.” He sent Raven a look that promised they would talk later before tucking his grandmother’s hand into the crook of his arm and escorting her into the living room.

Only Raven and Nicholas were left in the hall. Raven was reluctant to look at him. Escape seemed the best alternative for the moment. She started to walk toward the archway when strong fingers encircled her wrist, jerking her to a stop.