Texas Tycoon's Christmas Fiancée (7 page)

She grabbed his upper arms to stop him, but the moment his tongue thrust deeply into her mouth, her rejection transformed into need.

Passion heightened. She wound her fingers in his thick hair at the back of his head while her other hand ran across his broad shoulder. She wanted to touch and feel, kiss and be kissed.

Instead, she broke away. “Nick, stop this. We have no place in our lives for love. None whatsoever,” she said, as if trying to convince herself.

His gaze traveled slowly over her features, weakening her resistance. Gently, he combed strands away from her face.

“You'll change your mind,” he whispered.

“I can't,” she replied, hoping she could keep him out of her life. Part of her craved the opposite. She couldn't succumb because it would be a disaster.

“Thanks again for today,” he said, and turned, pausing to look at the sleeping baby. Then Nick walked out, closing the door quietly behind him.

She stepped to the window to watch him, his long, purposeful strides proclaiming his confidence.

 

Friday morning Nick called to arrange an afternoon appointment at her office. As they talked, he could feel the coolness in her tone of voice. Finally, she yielded and agreed to see him at her office late in the afternoon.

The moment he strolled through the door, every nerve in his body came alive. Consumed by lust, he had suffered hot, erotic fantasies that tormented him. Efforts to put her out of his mind had failed. Longing streaked in him, heating him, driving his purpose in meeting out of mind.

When their gazes locked, he could feel the sparks and she obviously experienced it, too. And just as apparent, she fought it. She sat in silence behind her desk, a convenient barrier between them.

Nick pulled a chair closer to her desk, to face her. “Thanks for seeing me,” he said, sitting back to notice with satisfaction that a flush rose in her cheeks. Beneath a matching suit jacket, her vee-necked rose blouse revealed the beginning of lush curves. He longed to walk around the wooden desk and take her into his embrace. Instead, he sat quietly facing her. “How have you been?”

“Fine, Nick,” she answered, and he thought she looked more gorgeous than ever. He wished she would come sit near him.

“Do you have Christmas plans?” he asked.

“I'll spend it with Michael. It'll be quiet, but fun.”

“What about your aunt? Won't she be with you, too?”

“No. She leaves Monday to be with her son who is in Germany. I'll just be with Michael. So what does your father want now?” she asked.

“You're so certain my visit concerns him,” Nick remarked drily.

“Doesn't it? I know you don't have designs of your own on Michael, so it has to be your father. If you just wanted to see or be with me, I don't think you'd call for an office appointment.”

“You're right. My father would like to see Michael again.”

As she looked away, her hands locked together on the desk. Her knuckles whitened, an obvious indication she was unhappy with his request. “You told him he could see Michael again,” Nick reminded her gently.

Her gaze settled on him, glacial green that conveyed her irritation. “I know I did. That doesn't make me want to.”

“Honor the request of an aging, failing grandfather.”

“Stop playing on my sympathy,” she flung back at him.

“I'm just stating the truth,” Nick replied. While she kept her features impassive, he could see the battle raging inside her.

“Very well,” she said, relenting. “I know I told him he could see Michael.”

“Thank you, Grace,” Nick said. “Christmas is next weekend. Come visit Christmas Eve. Have dinner with us and stay over Christmas morning. Then you can go home and have your Christmas with Michael. That way, I'll enjoy Christmas.”

“I think that's way more visiting than I intended when I told your father we would see him again.”

“Look, you don't have plans. You've already told me that. This may be Dad's last Christmas. Michael's presence would give him so much joy. Your presence will give
me
pleasure,” Nick added, wanting her to agree. He wasn't looking forward to Christmas Eve and morning with his dad, something they never used to do, yet something he felt duty-bound to do now.

“Nick, I don't care to spend my Christmas with your dad.”

Nick stood and walked around the desk, pulling her chair
out and grasping her waist to draw her to her feet. Frowning, she opened her mouth, he guessed, to protest. He took advantage and leaned down, covering her mouth with his.

Momentarily, she was stiff in his arms and then she yielded, wrapping an arm around his neck. His body heated with white-hot desire as he leaned over her and kissed her hungrily, pouring out the lust he'd felt in her absence. He savored the kiss, the softness of her mouth, the sensual feel of her tongue. Her body was curvaceous, lush and warm against him. He tangled his hand in her hair, which had been pinned on her head. He didn't care. He intended to kiss away her remoteness and elicit a response and an acceptance from her.

He could feel her heart thumping against his, hear her soft moans that raced through him like lightning. He wanted to lay her down on her desk and make love to her now, but that was impossible.

Instead, he tore his mouth away to look at her as she gasped. Her eyes slowly opened. “Spend Christmas with me,” he demanded. “You'll be alone otherwise. I want you there with me. Will you?”

“Yes,” she whispered, looking dazed. Fire now replaced the frost in her green eyes. Her lips were red, full, an enticing temptation. He dipped his head again to kiss her, stopping any words.

She arched against him, holding him tightly while her fingers tangled in his hair. He throbbed with need and was hard, ready. They had to go slowly, because they were racing headlong into a depth that would complicate and heighten the friction between them.

“Stop, Nick. We're in my office,” she gasped. She gulped air and her protest was weak, but he stepped away.

She smoothed her hair that had too many strands pulled loose to put back in place. As he watched, she took it down
and shook her head. He reached out, winding his fingers in her silky, thick hair.

“Your hair is beautiful, Grace,” he whispered. He leaned forward to brush a kiss on her throat. “I want to bury my hands in it.”

“Nick, my assistant could come in.”

“She won't. I asked her to see to it that you're not disturbed,” he whispered, trailing kisses to her nape and hearing her intake of breath. He placed his hand against her throat and could feel her racing pulse, which gave him a stab of satisfaction.

He straightened, dropping his hands to his sides. “You agreed to Christmas Eve with me and Christmas morning.”

“I know,” she whispered, her reluctance obvious.

“I promise to see to it you have a good time.”

“You can't possibly promise that,” she said without conviction in her voice. He couldn't keep from smiling at her.

“It'll be a Christmas to remember forever,” he said.

“Watch what you promise,” she warned, the frost returning to her gaze. “Now you go back and sit where you were unless you're leaving.”

He gripped her hand. “Come here.” Circling the desk, he held a chair facing his. “Sit here and stop keeping the damned desk between us. I want to talk to you before I go.”

“Have you always spent Christmas Eve and morning with your father?” she asked as she sat, her question surprising him.

Pulling his chair closer to hers, Nick shook his head. “No. There were a lot of holidays when he would go off to Europe with my current stepmother. I stayed with a friend,” he answered without thinking about his reply. His thoughts were on Grace because her disheveled appearance made him think of hot sex. Her hair tumbled around her face, cascading
across her shoulders, a thick, wild mane that was a sensual invitation.

Her lips were just-been-kissed red. Desire glowed in the depths of her gaze, making it difficult to think about their conversation when what he wanted to do was draw her back into his embrace and continue kissing her.

“You never had to stay at the boarding school?”

“No. When I was young, I think Dad arranged with a friend's family to get me invited, probably showering them with presents for taking me in. When I was older, I had friends who would invite me because they knew I wasn't going home.”

“That's dreadful, Nick,” she said, staring at him as if he had sprouted two heads. “I'm amazed you spend your Christmases with him now if he abandoned you that much on holidays in your childhood.”

Nick shrugged. “I didn't until these last two years when his health failed. And now he's lost Bart. I guess I love the old man and I feel sorry for him. He's having a tough time. I don't have anything to gain by going off and leaving him alone for Christmas. That would be selfish on my part. What he did is his own worry. What I do is mine.”

“That's good of you,” she said in a strange voice, studying him intently. He wondered whether he had won her over slightly with his reply and hoped that was the reason behind the sharp stare.

“Christmas Eve with us will be better than staying alone with a baby who'll sleep a good deal of the time. Also, Dad would like to have a professional photographer out to get some Christmas photos with Michael.”

She had to laugh. “Nick, a
professional
photographer? As I told your dad, it's fine with me—as long as I get a picture, too. That will be wonderful and something I could never afford.”

“See?” he said. “Dad's money can do things you like,” he reminded her lightly and she wrinkled her nose at him. “How about I pick you up around five o'clock on Christmas Eve?”

“Make it half past five, please. I have a lot of party-planning to do, and I won't have Clara to help with Michael.”

“Half past five it is. Excellent,” he said, wishing the weekend started tonight and he could be with Grace. “I'm looking forward to this holiday, something I definitely was not doing until a minute ago.”

The pink deepened in her cheeks. “Don't be ridiculous,” she replied lightly.

“Before I go, there's one more thing. It's important and before you give me an answer, take a few days to think about it. I expect you to refuse my request, but give it consideration.” The minute the words were spoken, she stiffened and he could feel an invisible barrier rising between them. Her frostiness returned, along with a wary look in her eyes.

“What's that, Nick? What else do you want of me?”

“My dad would like Michael to legally have the Rafford name,” Nick stated.

She locked her fingers together in her lap. “He doesn't waste time. No. That would basically give Michael to your family.”

“No, it won't. Just a legal last-name change. The name does not put him in my family and Dad knows that. Think about this request before you decide. I can see the refusal in your expression. Consider what I'm telling you. Dad will set up a trust for Michael. Right now, he will open an account that you can use for him. This would help you out with the baby and pay for his college. No giant fortune, just a reasonable sum to see that he's educated.”

“Stop, Nick,” she ordered, looking into his dark eyes. “I don't want Rafford money. I don't really need it. I'm not
changing the baby's name from Vaughan, Alicia's name. You're on a futile mission and wasting your breath. Neither threats nor bribes will win me over.”

“I'm not going to threaten you with anything,” he said, smiling at her and causing her slight frown to vanish. “Look, why deny Michael the benefit of this? Michael is a Rafford—why not let him have the name?”

“The Vaughan name is a tie to his mother.”

“Do you really want to take this away from Michael?”

“I don't think I'm taking anything from him,” she argued. “I'll take care of Michael, send him to college, and I don't need your father's money.”

“My father is a generous man,” Nick said quietly, wondering if she had any concept of the fortune she was refusing. It was an effort to hold on to his patience. Who turned down money and a deal like the one his dad was offering? “We're not talking small change here,” he couldn't resist tossing out.

“It doesn't matter,” she said. “I won't do this. He wants Michael to be a Rafford. Next thing, he would want Michael to stay with him. He can hire nannies easily. Then he'd want to keep Michael and move me into his mansion, unless he tries to just get rid of me.”

“You're jumping to conclusions.”

“No, I'm not,” she stated. “Your dad is after my baby. End of discussion, Nick. We won't argue through Christmas Eve over this issue, will we?”

“No,” he said, wondering if he could keep his word on that one. “I'll tell Dad your answer. He'll have to abandon the idea for now.”

“For now and forever.” She stood and he came to his feet. He had achieved an important part of his quest. He would get to spend Christmas Eve and morning with her. The prospect pleased him and he intended to use the time to win
her friendship. In the meantime, he'd have to deal with his father's disappointment. Not that his father would relent in his pursuit of the name change.

 

Nick postponed telling his dad until the next day. His father's anger worried Nick because it couldn't be good for his heart. He had to think of some way to convince Grace to agree.

Michael Rafford. How simple it would be, yet Grace had been adamant. Nick raked his fingers through his hair, mulling over ideas, finally beginning to settle on one that he had originally rejected instantly.

Three nights later in the club dining room with one of his close friends, Nick mentioned his plan. Jake Benton's jaw dropped and he stared at Nick.

“I think your brain has stopped functioning.”