Bid Me Now (16 page)

“It was all a sham,” she said dully.

 
“I’m asking you to listen to me. It wasn’t a sham, and I know you care. Hell, Miri, I don’t want to fight with you. Right now I just want to pick you up, carry you upstairs, and make love to you.”
 

Tears stung her eyes. “I can’t.”

“Dammit, we can fix this. Please sit down and talk to me. Rationally. You’re all fired up over some nonsense your idiot friend has told you.”
 

Miri blinked as his words registered. Wrenching away from him, she brought her hand up to make a fist, hitting at his chest as if the futile action could banish him from her mind.
 

He barely moved against her pathetic blow, his arms dropping loose to his sides.
 

Miri’s desire was replaced by rage. Trapped in her for the past two days, it found a savage outlet. “Sit down and be rational! You must be out of your
mind
!”

Swiping a hand across tear-filled eyes, she released every ounce of her anger and despair. “Why didn’t you just fuck me and call a cab afterward? At least that’s honest. But you pretended it all meant something. That you cared. What a joke. It was you taking your reward.”

Nick shook his head in disbelief. “Surely you don’t believe…”

“Get out!” she half-shrieked, half-sobbed, falling back and grabbing at the easel for support.

Nick’s expression seemed so incredulous, Miri stared back in astonishment, struggling to understand how he could keep doing this.
 

He shook his head in frustration and disbelief. “For God’s sake, do you really believe I cheated you out of your precious mill and then screwed you as some kind of
prize
?”

“Yes!”

A small three-letter word, but it might as well have been four. She threw her head back in triumph, ready to laugh in his face.
 

Except what she saw filled her with dismay. He wasn’t furious — he was hurt and disappointed. It pooled so clear in his eyes, she could feel it washing over her like a wet, clammy mist.

Her words had hit home, but it didn’t feel good.
 

“Goodbye, Miri.” He reached into his pocket and took out her comb. “I guess you’ll want this back.” Then he set it down on the arm of the sofa, and a few seconds later he was gone. Miri listened to his every footstep along her hallway, and then the faint click of her front door closing.
 

She stumbled to the sofa to look down at the indentation where his body had been. With a low sob, Miri sank down into the hollow, wrapping her arms around herself as if to absorb a little piece of him.
 

Finally she texted Carly not to come over, and gave in to her despair. Clutching the comb, she curled up on the sofa and cried.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Calls for demolition of Charmford Mill to be put on hold. Prominent businesswoman demands the mill’s sale be investigated
.
 

Nick flung the morning issue of the
Charmford Chronicle
onto his desk and renewed his pacing up and down his office.
 

Damn, this was a mess. A small, uncomplicated demolition and salvage job, one he’d taken on for its short timeframe and easy cashflow, was about to threaten his company.
 

The fucking irony of it.

Coming to a stop at the window, he stared across to the mill’s front wall. It looked naked without the façade, which had been dismantled and packed a week ago and was ready to be shipped to the buyer tomorrow. This morning Fitz and two of the crew had started removing some of the casement windows at the rear of the building in preparation for the full demolition, scheduled to start in two days.
 

He wasn’t overly surprised by the article. What Miri had flung at him about the sale of the mill had been warning enough, but he’d put it down to a lot of hot air generated by Alexandra Olivet to gain time to prevent the demolition. Miri, being the volatile stick of dynamite that she was, had believed every word of it.
 

“Yes, boss, what is it?” Fitz appeared at the door, his rusty-colored hair coated with plaster dust, his plaid shirt dark with sweat.
 

“Have you seen this article?” Nick barked, jabbing a forefinger in the direction of the newspaper on his desk.

Fitz leaned across to scan the headline, his mouth slipping open in surprise. “What the feck…?” He scratched his head, a halo of dust rising, then resettling on his hair. “What’s going on?”

“Not sure yet, but it’s a mess we don’t need. Did anyone from the realtors contact you at any time?”

Fitz screwed up one eye as he thought. “Nobody that I can think of. They just sent the papers out.”

“Did Alexandra Olivet call you?”
 

“Nah, never heard from her. Is she connected to that woman who wants the mill — Miri Jamieson?”

“That’s her. Ms. Olivet is some piece of work. Claims that we knew the bids before the deadline, then put in the highest offer.”

Fitz cleared his throat with a snort of disbelief. “Feck, why is she even involved?”

Nick sighed, his frown deepening as he churned through the possibilities. “My guess is she’s made the allegation as a quick way to stop the demolition. Buys time while we’re scrambling around, trying to find out what’s going on. She probably thinks we’ll just walk away from the whole mess.”

“So what does it mean for us?”

“It means just a whiff of this could ruin every other sealed bid for work we’re involved in.”

Fitz walked across to the window and stared out at the parking lot. “Shit.”
 

Nick watched him, hating that he’d have to have Fitz checked. Damn that Olivet woman. But it wasn’t only Alexandra Olivet who had him pissed. Miri had him in knots, and that annoyed him more than he cared to admit.
 

“So now what?”
 

Nick slumped down in his chair. “We keep going with the salvage today and tomorrow. Contact the rest of the crew not to come, and we’ll put a hold on the demolition until this is sorted out.”
 

Alexandra Olivet was no fool. Her allegation was libelous, and she would have prepared for it. Miri’s name hadn’t been mentioned in the article, so it was possible she hadn’t known about it. He hoped that was true. As mad as he was at her, he couldn’t rid himself of the memory of her walking down her hallway in those tight denim shorts, waggling her ass at him. The same beautiful ass that had squirmed in his hands. Miri was fast becoming his weakness, something that Alexandra Olivet had to know and was using to her advantage.
 

Fitz’s exasperated voice pulled his attention back. “Hell, the delay alone will cost us.”

Nick stared at the headline, only too aware of what was at stake. “I know, so we’ll deal with it quickly.”

“What about the façade? Do we ship that tomorrow?”

“No, put that on hold as well. I’ll call the buyer this morning and let him know what’s happening. I’m sorry about all this, Fitz. Should only take a few days to straighten out.”

“Okay. Just out of interest, what about your Miri? Is she involved in all this?”
 

Nick grunted. He didn’t know the answer to that question, and he didn’t even want to speculate at the moment. “No comment. Anyway, I’ll set up a meeting with the Olivet woman today.”
 

Despite the annoyance, he didn’t foresee much of a problem getting the matter sorted out. Either she and the
Chronicle
published a retraction and an apology, or his New York lawyers would sue them both to hell and back.
 

“I’m betting they’ll crumble,” he continued. “If they don’t, we start legal action.”

Fitz shook his head. “Feck, what a mess.”
 

Nick called his personal assistant in New York to make an appointment for early afternoon.

• • •

Miri didn’t feel even close to comfortable. Her stomach was in a tangle, her head ached, and truthfully, she didn’t know why she’d insisted on being here. She stared down into her lap and fidgeted with the hem of her top, wondering if it wasn’t too late to sneak out. She checked her watch for the tenth time in five minutes — it was just two o’clock, which meant Nick would be here any moment. Getting caught sneaking out of the office like a scared rabbit was hardly the right look in this situation.

To be fair, Alex had suggested that Miri not attend the meeting, but Miri had insisted. She was curious about how he would react. Nick would, of course, deny the allegation, but Alex had irrefutable proof. All the same, Nick’s denial in her studio a couple of days ago suggested the matter was not as straightforward as Alex believed.
 

She closed her eyes, her mind reliving the horrible moment when she’d screamed at him to get out of her studio and out of her life. Now it was over and done with. After this meeting, she could move on, no matter what happened. But Miri felt no comfort in the knowledge. Instead, she felt sick at the thought.
 

Alex walked into the office and sailed briskly around her expansive mahogany desk to sit down with a whoosh. “Right, my dear, Petra will bring the coffee in a minute.”
 

Alex was, as usual, turned out like a fashion plate, her business armor for the meeting a steel-gray knee-length suit with a short jacket. With her hair caught in its usual chignon, gold hoops swinging from her ears, Alex looked as if handling Nick would be just another day at the office.
 

Miri tried to relax in her chair, but running on nervous tension had her stiff and uncomfortable. “Coffee would be nice…” she began, but her words dried up as Alex’s secretary popped her head around the door.
 

“Mrs. Olivet, Mr. Brannagh has arrived.”
 

“Thank you, Petra. Could you ask him to wait a few minutes?”

“Right.” Petra closed the door with a soft click.

Alex pursed her scarlet lips in satisfaction. “Just to put him at a slight disadvantage. It will do him good to seethe a little.”
 

“Alex, I don’t think that’s a good idea. He’s not the sort…” Miri stopped as the door snapped open and Nick strode into Alex’s office, followed by a feebly protesting Petra.

“Two o’clock was arranged, and two o’clock it is.”
 

Nick stalked past Alex’s desk and set his big frame down in a leather armchair at the other end of her vast office. Miri felt his obvious annoyance at seeing her. “I didn’t expect
you
to be here.”

Miri swallowed. Somehow she managed to meet his glare with one of her own. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
 

Alex’s business voice cut in. “Mr. Brannagh, I have a couple of calls to make. I need you to wait outside.”

Nick’s eyes shifted to Alex like she was prey. “No chance, Mrs. Olivet.” He leaned back to rest one ankle across his knee, folding his arms. Miri didn’t even have to look at Alex to know she’d be on full alert. Alex couldn’t resist the challenge of a prime alpha male on her territory.

Nick glared at Miri, then back to Alex. “Shall we get started?”

Miri knew Alex had a problem. She was sexually attracted to Nick, and if that wasn’t problem enough, he was at the other end of her office, leaving her with no option but to get out from behind her executive desk and sit opposite him.
 

Round One to Nick.
 

Miri watched as Alex elegantly rose and sashayed to the chair opposite his. Seating herself in one graceful movement, Alex crossed a perfectly toned leg and waited, clearly expecting Nick’s eyes to drop. But he ignored her legs, something Miri knew would annoy the hell out of Alex. As Bree had often remarked, Alex considered her legs a national treasure. Their very existence demanded admiration.

“May I call you Nick?” She fixed him with a tight smile when he didn’t answer. “Right, then,
Nick
, what is it you wish to discuss?”
 

“I’m not here for a discussion. I’m here to tell you a few things.”

“Would you like some coffee before you start telling me a few things?” Her tone was calm enough, but Miri heard the slight rattle in her voice.
 

Alex slowly recrossed her legs, easing her skirt up her thigh.
 

Miri groaned inwardly
. Oh, hell, if she’s going for some kind of Sharon Stone leg-cross, he won’t buy it.
 

He didn’t. Instead he looked at Alex’s face as if she were some desperate, over-the-hill diva. It seemed almost cruel. For the first time ever, Miri noticed the lines on Alex’s face. It was as if Nick’s visual insult had stripped away her glossy, youthful veneer. At that moment, Alex looked every bit her age.
 

Nick leaned comfortably back in his chair. “Forget the coffee. You’ll need something stronger by the time I’m finished,
Alex
.”
 

Even through her nerves and Alex’s obvious dismay, Miri couldn’t help but see the humor of the situation. It was like witnessing a pair of gladiators squaring off before a bout.
 

The door opened, and Petra breezed in with two coffees. Putting one down on the low table next to Alex, she flicked a curious glance at Nick before walking across to Miri with the other coffee. “Is there anything else you need, Mrs. Olivet?”
 

“Oh, no, nothing more, thank you, Petra, except could you make those travel reservations to Los Angeles for late next week?”

“Yes, of course.” Petra departed, turning her head to take one last, round-eyed look at Nick.
 

“Right, so where were we?” Alex asked in a more businesslike tone now. Apparently, she had recovered sufficiently for the next round.
 

Nick returned his foot to the floor and leaned forward to rest his arms along his knees, his eyes hardened steel. “You’ve damaged my reputation, and I take that very personally. You will fix this problem today. Do you
understand
?”

Nick’s brutal tone would make most men rethink their words, but Alex bravely waved a dismissive hand. “Nick, let me make myself clear. The sealed bid you put in to Wilkins and Davies was invalidated by your company’s dishonesty, and it is very likely a criminal offense. The bids were leaked beforehand. I suggest you fix your own problem, starting by formally withdrawing from the purchase of the mill. Then the sale can proceed to the next highest bidder, who as you know, is Miri.”