Texas Tycoon's Christmas Fiancée (4 page)

“Well, you will now. As of this afternoon, I have two new wills. One leaves the bulk of my estate, the houses, my possessions to you with a trust for Michael and five million when he reaches twenty-one. The other will leaves my sizable fortune to charity with the exception of this house and one million to you.”

“You're cutting me out of your will,” Nick said, shocked and staring at his father.

“I hope not. I don't want to have to use that will. If you get Grace Wayland to agree to allowing me to legally have Michael declared a Rafford and to let me know him, I will shred that will and you will get the bulk of everything I own. Otherwise, Nick, your inheritance is cut. You won't starve or
be broke—you're a multimillionaire already—but I'm worth a lot and I'm sure this will give you an incentive.”

“Damn it, Dad, I can't move that woman to do what she doesn't want to do or legally doesn't have to do,” Nick said. He was barely hanging on to his temper, exasperated with his father's unreasonable demands.

Eli smiled. “Think about it. You have monumental achievements. Women like you, Nick. I can count on you. Make no mistake though, I mean what I say. Harvey has the wills and my instructions.”

“So exactly what do I have to get her to agree to? Let me get this clear. You want more than a visit with the baby.”

“I want him in the family. I want her to willingly go to court with us and give him the Rafford name.”

“Damn it,” Nick said. There was no point in arguing and the sooner he got out of his father's presence, the less likely they were to get into a real battle of wills. He stood. “Under the circumstances, I better start making plans. I'll think over what you want,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I have to go, Dad. I'll see what I can do.”

“I'm sure of your success, Nick.” Eli raised his glass in the gesture of a toast.

“You haven't met Grace Wayland. She has strong feelings about our family.”

“You'll convince her otherwise. I've never seen the woman you couldn't wrap around your little finger.”

Nick shook his head and left. As he drove to his condo, he mulled over the turn in his life. His father meant what he'd said. Nick knew it was no idle threat. And he didn't want to toss away a fortune and give up. Not without a fight.

The problem loomed a full-scale battle. Grace hadn't wanted to let his dad see the baby, much less actually let him become part of the family.

Nick thought of her green eyes flashing with fire. The
prospect of seeing her again was two-edged. He hadn't been able to get her out of his mind since they met. On the other hand, he had little relish for the struggle to win her over. He had tried reasoning with her. Now he'd just have to try charming her.

He concentrated on driving while he began to map out his next move.

 

Grace ran over the bookings for the coming week. Christmas was approaching and she had a long list of parties. She glanced up to see her assistant.

“Nick Rafford is here,” Jada announced.

“Tell him to come in,” Grace said. “I'll get this over with quickly.”

“I don't think I'd be in a rush,” Jada said, smiling.

Grace was certain he would try to talk her into yielding on her refusal to meet with his father. She'd hated the jump in her pulse when he had called for this appointment. She was just as annoyed now that she experienced a tingling awareness of him as well as being unable to avoid thinking about how she looked. And she had talked too long to him today on the phone. What should have been a five-minute call had turned into half an hour before she realized how much time she was spending.

While she placed papers in a file cabinet, Jada announced Nick.

“Grace, here's Nick Rafford.”

Hoping she didn't reveal the physical reaction, the hitch in her breathing at the sight of him, she motioned toward a chair. He was the most handsome man she had ever known. “Please have a seat.”

“Thanks. Ever the businesswoman,” Nick said, smiling with a flash of white teeth that were as flawless and winning as the rest of his appearance. As before, his dark eyes kept
her spellbound until she realized she was gazing back, with silence spreading thickly between them.

“So what brings you to my office?” she asked, trying to be brisk and cut the breathlessness from her voice. How could the man stir such a reaction by nothing more than his presence? She was amazed by his effect on her. Men didn't set her heart racing and make her insides tingly. Nick had never flirted with her and they barely knew each other, yet her response to the sight of him was unmistakable. Worse, he heightened her consciousness of herself, her plain navy skirt and shirt, the shortness of the skirt that didn't reach her knees. Again she was mindful of her drab, simple office, something she seldom had given a thought about until Nick.

“I assume this is your busiest time of the year, unless June weddings bump Christmas to second place,” he said. He looked relaxed as if in total command of the situation in spite of having been soundly dismissed in their last meeting.

“Good guess. This is the busiest season and June is second.”

“That's what I figured. The last time I saw you I made my case. I'm here on a different errand. This time I want to drop family matters. I'm doing what I would have done if we'd met under different circumstances. Namely, I'd like to take you to dinner—strictly a man and a beautiful woman he would like to know better. Just an evening out with nothing else going on for a few hours.”

She laughed. “You're doing this to soften me up for another argument about Michael.”

Amusement lit his dark eyes and heightened his already overwhelming appeal. “Maybe, but that isn't my intention for this one night. You're an attractive woman,” he said quietly, causing her more palpitations. “You're single. I want to take you out. Are you free tonight?”

She wanted to answer yes, accept his invitation and
have an exciting night with a handsome man who lit fires in her. At the same time, common sense screamed to avoid any close contact with him. He wanted her most precious possession—Michael.

Nick Rafford was accustomed to winning big battles, acquiring what he wanted when pitted against more formidable opponents than a single woman guardian. She had no illusions about his invitation, but that didn't take away the temptation to accept.

“I can see the wheels turning. Stop worrying about my motives.” He leaned forward and picked up her hand, placing his thumb on her wrist. “Your pulse is racing, as is mine.” His strong fingers were warm, a steady, light pressure that made her heart beat faster. His brooding dark eyes held a promise of sensuality. “Say yes, Grace,” he coaxed in a husky voice. “I'll take you home tonight any time you want. Let's have a few hours together. The night promises fireworks. How about I pick you up around seven?”

“Yes,” she whispered, “if my aunt is free to keep Michael. I'll contact her,” she said, retrieving her phone from a pocket. When Grace broke the connection, she nodded. “I'm free. I expect you to keep your promise of taking me home if I ask.”

“I swear. I've never gone against a woman's wishes concerning a relationship.”

“You can't describe dinner together as a ‘relationship.' I'm barely acquainted with you,” she said, aware now his thumb traced lightly back and forth on her wrist and her palm, faint strokes that wreaked more havoc.

“I gave you a truthful reply to your statement. Hopefully, a reassuring one.”

“This is one of the nights this month that I have open. There aren't too many of them.” When she withdrew her wrist and
stood, he came to his feet. “Speaking of business, I should get back to work,” she said.

Once again she thought she detected amusement in his torrid gaze. He stood close enough for her to notice his inviting aftershave. Without thinking, she looked at his mouth. Would they kiss tonight? She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks at the prospect of Nick's kiss. It had been a long time since she had gone out with anyone.

“Selfishly, I'm glad there's no man in your life right now.”

“There isn't and hasn't been for a while. For the past seven months, I've been too busy with Michael. Before that, for years my time has gone to learning the catering business and then starting up my own.”

“Sounds as if you're overdue for a night on the town. Let's make it a bigger deal and start at six. Will that be too soon?”

Her mind raced, because six would mean closing early. Yet how long had it been since she had gone out for the evening other than to cater? A few hours with a handsome, sexy man. No diapers, no responsibilities, no rushing to keep a party running smoothly. Anticipation bubbled in her.

“Six will be fine.”

“See you then,” he said, and left.

As she went back to the task at hand, her mind kept returning to Nick. Was she making a huge mistake by getting better acquainted with him?

She went to find Jada. “Since we don't have anything booked tonight, I accepted Nick's dinner offer.”

Jada squealed with delight and wrung her hands in glee. “Sweet! You're going out with Nick Rafford! He is the handsomest man I've ever seen! How awesome!” Her ponytail bounced as she danced.

“Jada, he's Michael's uncle. He probably has ulterior motives.”

Jada waved her hands in the air. “Of course he doesn't. And if he does, you'll be able to cope. Go seduce him and marry him.”

Grace had to laugh. “I barely know him. Besides, the man has publicly been quoted as a confirmed bachelor and his father had multiple marriages. Also—marry Michael's uncle?”

“A legal guardian is not a blood relative. You certainly aren't a blood relation even though you're the only mother Michael knows.”

“I'm having dinner for the first—and maybe last—time with Nick. What I came to tell you is that he wants to go early, so about two let's close up and get out of here. Everything is set for tomorrow night, isn't it?”

“Yes, and if he asks you out again, I can handle the Whitman party just fine. We have our help ready and I can take care of the Lansing party.”

“I'm certain you can, but I'll be around. He hasn't asked me out tomorrow night.”

“He will,” Jada said with a grin. “I'm just sure he will.”

Grace shook her head. “I'm going back to my office. I've had as much enthusiasm as I can stand,” she said, wondering what Jada would be like when she fell in love.

By two the office was closed and Grace drove to her aunt's to see Michael for a while before going home. She was thankful she wouldn't have to hear another person bubbling over her dinner date—her aunt would do no such thing.

She gave Clara a hug and then turned to pick up Michael as he stretched out his arms and cooed, babbling “Ma-ma.”

He smelled of baby powder and formula as she hugged him and he clung to her. He was warm and soft, cooing and babbling. She was sure she loved him more each day that
passed. She looked beyond him at her aunt. “You're sure about tonight?”

“Absolutely. Are you certain about going out with Nick? If they try to take Michael from you, I wouldn't be able to stand it. He's a grandson to me.”

“Don't worry. Do what I do. Remind yourself that I have the papers Bart Rafford signed giving up Michael. I have the letter he gave Alicia, and the attorney has Bart's recorded testimony giving up his rights to his son. I have Alicia's will where her wishes for Michael are clear.”

“Thank goodness she lived several weeks, long enough for the arrangements to take place.”

“I think she was hanging on partially because of settling who cared for Michael,” Grace said. She sat on the floor and put Michael down to play with him. “I'll be here for about an hour if you want to do anything.”

“I might run to the neighborhood grocery. I won't be gone long,” Clara said.

“Take your time. Michael and I will have fun,” Grace replied, clapping her hands and then putting Michael's tiny hands together.

She continued to play with the baby after Clara's return until Clara finally pointed to the clock. “Grace, I hate to interrupt, but soon Michael will be getting hungry and you're going to have to go home to change now if you want to be on time.”

“I have plenty of time,” Grace said, getting to her feet and picking up Michael. She talked to him as she carried him with her to the door and then turned to hand him to Clara.

“Aunt Clara, are you sure you want him tonight?”

“Yes, I am. He's a sweet baby and easy to have. You don't have many nights out for anything that's just fun for you. You go enjoy yourself, but be careful. The Raffords are powerful, ruthless men with money and resources.”

“I'll be careful. He promised just an outing with no talk about Michael or families.”

“Talk is easy and Nick Rafford is accustomed to manipulating people far more experienced than you are.”

“I'll be careful, I promise,” Grace said as she left.

At her apartment she showered and dressed in a wine-colored dress with a plunging vee neck and long sleeves. She brushed her hair up, looping and pinning it with a few free strands. Finally she stepped into high-heeled pumps and did a brief inspection in the chipped mirror. “You're out of your league,” she said to herself, thinking of Nick. Her gaze fell to Michael's framed picture on a table and she picked it up. “I love you,” she whispered. “I don't want to lose you.” She kissed the picture lightly, the glass cold against her lips and then she retrieved a tissue to wipe off the slight smudge.

When the doorbell rang, she picked up her coat and purse, glancing around the empty room that seemed a haven. With her pulse quickening, she went to meet Nick.

N
ick's smile melted her fears and reluctance. On her doorstep beneath the porch light stood over six feet of handsome male, impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit that had likely cost more than her last month's profits. Even white teeth, creases bracketing his sensual lips, a seductive approval in his gaze—all enticed. Packaged for seduction, he radiated confidence that increased his physical appeal. Behind him a sleek black limo waited.

Small wonder she was weak-kneed and shaken, hot and definitely bothered. As well as speechless.

“You look gorgeous,” he said with warmth in his dark brown eyes.

“Thank you. You appear quite handsome yourself, but I'm sure you're accustomed to hearing that.”

“This is the first time I've heard you say it. I'll admit, I'm pleased,” he said. “Do you want to tell your aunt and Michael goodbye?”

“Michael is at Aunt Clara's house,” Grace said, wondering if he had planned on getting to see Michael tonight, but it was his father who wanted to meet Michael. She couldn't imagine that Nick cared in the least about a baby nephew.

“In that case, are you ready for a night out?”

“Yes, I am,” she answered truthfully, smiling at him. He touched her cheek lightly with his forefinger.

“That's better. I haven't seen many smiles—something I intend to change tonight.”

“The issues between us are not conducive to merriment.”

“That definitely has to change. Let's get started.”

She nodded and slipped into her worn black coat, closing the door behind her. A cold wind whipped her and she pulled her coat collar closer. “It's dark so early now,” she remarked, shivering in the cold.

“You'll be warm in a second.”

“I've never ridden in a limo, a fact that I'm certain doesn't surprise you. While you, on the other hand, have ridden in them since before you can remember.”

A chauffeur opened the door and she climbed inside the luxurious interior, thinking it was an enormous waste of space for just two of them. While she noticed the lavish conveniences, her attention shifted to Nick. He sat near her, partially turning to face her and stretching his arm along the seat. Wind had caught a lock of his midnight hair and blown it over his forehead, heightening his appeal.

“You could live in here,” she observed, only half aware of what she said because her attention was on Nick. “With the exception of a bed and bath, this is a mobile home.”

His amused expression made her realize how inexperienced she must sound. “I can see why you're not in a topcoat,” she continued. “Your limo is toasty warm.” She slipped out of her coat and had started to pull it around her shoulders until Nick took over the task. His warm fingers brushed her nape,
creating sizzles. “So tell me about this life of yours, Nick. It's vastly removed from mine.”

“Not unlike your own life, except I'm not starting up a business. We both work to accomplish our goals,” he said, his eyes taking leisurely inventory of her features, pausing on her mouth with a directness that caused her lips to part as she inhaled quickly. “We make decisions. We deal with people and accounting.” He continued his bland list while his satisfied expression brought heat to her cheeks. He could see the effect he was having with nothing except a sensual visual survey. “We're both single. We both live in Dallas.”

“You make it sound plain and simple, but it's not. I've seen local papers and magazines,” she said, hoping she gave a sensible reply. She felt trapped in a web of sensuality that he spun effortlessly. Trying to focus her attention solely on their conversation and break his spell, she looked away.

“I go to parties. I imagine you do, too,” he continued.

She smiled at him. “When I do, I don't get my picture taken.”

“Something I can forgo,” he stated.

She glanced out the window as they drove through downtown Dallas, where holiday lights multiplied the feeling of a fantasy evening.

“So, Grace, what do you want in life? Dallas's largest catering business? A chain? What's your ultimate goal?”

“I want my own successful restaurant or restaurants,” she said, sharing her ambition with him and surprised at how well he could convey an illusion of intense interest in her life, something that cajoled information from her. “Since my first job I've worked in restaurants. I started with my aunt and uncle, who had a modest restaurant that was reasonably successful. When Uncle Pete died, Aunt Clara sold the restaurant and retired.” Grace was aware as she talked that she had Nick's undivided attention. His steady gaze gave her
the sense that he was spellbound by every word she said. She could see that such concentration would cause people to reveal more to him.

“A restaurant is open six or seven days a week, requiring long hours and demanding work, I would imagine.”

“So how many hours a week do you put in?” she asked, suspecting he worked longer hours often.

He smiled. “You make your point. Now what do you do for recreation?”

“Now my pleasure is in taking care of and playing with Michael. He's a delight. Compared to yours, my life is simple. While we have things in common, we live in different worlds. I don't ride in limos and jet off to Europe.”

“From the first, you've surprised me. I expected someone entirely different.”

“Maybe you had preconceived notions about Alicia as well as me. While you, on the other hand, filled my expectations completely.”

“Ouch. That means predictable and a few other undesirable descriptions.”

“Not necessarily. I had the advantage of hearing beforehand about you from the media,” she said.

“Don't believe the tabloids. Except the confirmed-bachelor part. My father has married enough to scare me from that forever.”

“I'm sure.” Glancing outside, she gave him a questioning look. “Where are we going?”

“Since you haven't had a night out in a long time, I tried to think of something special. We're taking my plane to Houston, where we'll board my yacht. When you're ready, we'll fly back the same way.”

“Your yacht,” she echoed, unable to believe she was headed for the experience he outlined. An evening on a yacht in the Gulf with a handsome multimillionaire. How had she tumbled
so abruptly into a magical night that she would never forget in her entire life? Her excitement soared over the prospects. “You meant what you said when you told me something special,” she remarked. Her anticipation caused her to flash him an eager smile.

“Ah, your smile—that makes my efforts worthwhile. Regrettably we got started in a manner that prevented many smiles from either of us,” he said softly. “You have a smile that should get you the world,” he added, his eyes warm.

“I think your flattery probably makes more gains than my smiles have,” she answered lightly, aware they were treading on dangerous ground by flirting.

“I figured you would have a sitter for Michael and have to get home tonight.”

“I definitely have to get home tonight,” she said quickly, wondering if seduction was in his planned schedule. He grinned, an infectious, disarming grin that caused the temperature in the limo to climb.

“I'll get you home whenever you're ready to leave. Both flights are short. Sometime we can do something more spectacular and take a little longer.”

“You're so certain we'll be friends despite having a life-changing disagreement between us.”

“We'll see about that ‘disagreement,' but not tonight. Tonight is your special night to get away from the demands of caring for a baby. No matter how adorable he is, a night out is long overdue.”

She watched as they took the road for the airport. In minutes they drove past hangars across the tarmac and stopped. Nick went ahead, turning to offer his hand, holding hers as she stepped down.

Another cold wind struck her. Nick held her coat while she slipped her arms into it and pulled it close. He took her arm
and they hurried to the waiting jet. Even through her coat, his firm touch stirred electricity.

She boarded another luxurious conveyance. Nick sat in a chair only a few feet from her. His raven hair, ruffled by wind, tumbled over his forehead. Watching him rake his fingers through his hair, she had visions of running her own fingers through the thick, wavy strands. The more tousled he looked, the more his appeal heightened. How easily he evoked a lusty reaction in her. Annoyed with herself, she couldn't resist watching as dark hairs sprang away from his hand.

In seconds she was buckled into the comfortable seat, facing Nick, her coat taken by an attendant who had also asked for her drink order.

Offered various cocktails and wine, she had chosen a glass of Pinot Grigio when she would have preferred a cup of steaming coffee, but that had not been in the offering. True to what Nick had predicted, she warmed rapidly and by the time they were airborne and the myriad lights of Dallas twinkled below, her chill had vanished.

“You were telling me about your life until our conversation was interrupted,” he reminded her.

“I've told you what my big goals are. What are yours?” she asked, hoping to direct their conversation to his past. “I can't imagine what you want when you already have everything.”

“No one has everything. I have goals—to increase business, to be a success at it.”

“I'd guess there's something in your life that you want that's far more specific. What drives you, Nick?” she asked, aware that when she said his name it seemed more personal than with anyone else she ever talked to.

She caught a fleeting expression of something she couldn't define—surprise? Amusement? “Perhaps you don't want to tell me,” she added quickly, unaccustomed to prying into people's lives.

“I'll answer any question you ask,” he said. The words couldn't hold a double entendre, but they achieved that result with her anyway.

“I want to become a billionaire,” he answered with a flat tone that made her realize this was important and a goal that surprised her. “Actually, I'd like to make more than my dad has. Maybe that's competitive. If so, it's the way he raised me to be.”

They paused in the conversation as the attendant returned with a bottle of wine, uncorked it and let Nick give his approval before pouring the pale wine and serving it. As soon as they were alone, Nick leaned closer and lifted his glass.

“Here's to a fabulous escape for you.”

“I'll toast that one,” she replied, touching his glass lightly with her own. Her gaze was captured again by Nick's as they both raised their glasses for a sip. In midnight depths she detected a look that conveyed unmistakably that before this evening ended, he would kiss her. Her pulse jumped. The prospect heated her and she wanted him to. If he reached for her this moment, she would go into his embrace eagerly.

As if he discerned her thoughts, his gaze became heavy lidded, erotic.

Realizing where they were heading, she made an effort to end the spell, sipping her wine and looking away. Mentally, she searched for the broken threads of their conversation to pick up where they stopped. “You were telling me your goal, which I cannot fathom.”

“It seems simple to me,” he replied, leaning back again.

“You're already a multimillionaire. It boggles my mind to have so much wealth and strive to obtain more.”

“Actually the money is not the exciting part. The battle to
acquire
riches, as well as manage a fortune so what you have makes more, feeds my ambition.”

“You need a challenge,” she said, realizing what motivated
him. Fear emerged from the discovery, because Eli's goal concerning Michael and her rejection pitted Nick against her in an unmistakable contest.

“Life's more interesting when fighting for something and infinitely more satisfying when I win.”

“Perhaps that's the main part. You plan to win.”

“Absolutely. Who plans to fail?” he asked, stretching out long legs that were only inches from touching her.

“Now you worry me. That drive definitely applies to your mission for your father,” she stated solemnly.

Instantly Nick straightened and placed his hands on the arms of her chair, hemming her in and commanding her total attention. His face was only inches away and she could barely breathe.

“Not necessarily. Tonight, absolutely not. I talked about my life goal. I didn't have a thought in my head about my father. While we're together, my entire aim is to get to know an enticing woman,” he added, lowering his voice, his expression as warm as a caress, making her insides jelly.

“All right, Nick,” she whispered. “I believe you.” She could not avoid shifting her gaze to his mouth. She wanted to kiss him. Mindful that was an unequivocal path to disaster, she longed to press her lips to his.

Their pilot announced an approach to Hobby in Houston, breaking the spell.

Nick flicked a knowing glance at her as he leaned away.

She gulped air into her empty lungs. He was a spellbinder. Effortlessly, he had crumbled her resistance and she reminded herself to get a better grip on her responses.

The minute they emerged from the plane, she shed her coat and realized why Nick hadn't worn a topcoat. Warm coastal air enveloped her and she smiled in delight. “Ah, this is grand,” she said.

“Excellent. I want the entire evening to be grand,” Nick said, and she smiled at him.

They boarded the chopper that whisked them to his luxurious white yacht floating on dark water. The magical atmosphere increased, Nick weaving a spell that could mesmerize her completely.

After meeting the captain and part of the crew, Nick held her arm. “Let's go to the top deck for a drink and we'll dine. Afterward I'll give you a tour.”

“Sounds perfect,” she said.

They rode in a glass elevator that revealed a view of a sweeping staircase, floors beautifully outfitted and enormous pots of exotic plants. When the doors opened, she stepped onto a deck that increased her sense of unreality. A small band played and she saw a table set, centered with a crystal vase holding bird of paradise blooms tucked between white orchids and plumerias.