Читать книгу CEO's Marriage Seduction / His Style of Seduction: CEO's Marriage Seduction / His Style of Seduction - Anna DePalo - Страница 11

Five

Two days after Griffin went to see Eva at her apartment, he looked up to see Marcus in the doorway of his office at work.

Usually Marcus’s appearance at Tremont REH and Evkit’s shared headquarters wasn’t noteworthy. Only semiretired, he was in the habit of dropping in on a regular basis.

But this time Griffin knew better than to think Marcus’s presence at work was unremarkable.

As Marcus shut the door behind him, his face turned into a glower. “That bastard, Newell.”

His sentiments exactly, Griffin thought.

“Still, I’m glad Eva called off the wedding.”

Griffin let the news of the cancelled nuptials wash over him like a cool wave on a blistering day. As mad as she’d been, at least Eva had had the good sense to give Carter the kiss-off.

He stood and came around his desk. “Glad you’re focusing on the bottom line, Marcus.”

“She said Ron found evidence Carter was marrying her for her money,” the older man stated.

“Yes,” Griffin said, not knowing how much Eva had revealed.

“How did he draw that conclusion?”

Griffin forced himself to shrug nonchalantly. “The usual stuff. A financial profile that showed Carter’s living on a borrowed dime. Some interesting conversations caught on tape.”

Since Marcus hadn’t yet said anything about Carter two-timing Eva, Griffin kept his mouth shut on the topic.

Marcus nodded, looking, in fact, as if he didn’t want Griffin to go into further detail.

Griffin didn’t blame him. He wished he didn’t know the particulars. He could only assume the situation was even more uncomfortable for Marcus, given that Eva was his daughter and only child.

“I went to Eva first,” Griffin explained, skirting the issue of when exactly he’d gotten news from Ron, “because I thought she was entitled to hear the information before anyone else. I figured she’d want to tell you herself.”

“I appreciate your sticking your neck out here, Griffin.” The older man gave him a wry smile. “Eva probably wants to have us both fried, so I’m glad she got the news first, at least. There’s no sense jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire, eh?”

“Hang on to the thought.”

“That’s not the only thought I’m hanging on to,” the older man continued. “She told her mother she threw wine in Newell’s face when she confronted him.”

Griffin took grim satisfaction in the knowledge Eva had rallied and shown the grit he knew her capable of instead of moping over Newell.

He worried about her, even though she sometimes made him nuts. His concern for her was ultimately what had made him comfortable with Marcus’s request to have Newell investigated.

And that was also why he’d kissed her in her apartment—or so he’d told himself.

Let her think he was despicable, grabbing her for an inexplicable kiss at her vulnerable moment. At least it had kept her from spilling more unnecessary tears and engaging in misspent heartache.

When Marcus left his office moments later, Griffin’s phone rang.

He picked up, and the voice at the other end said, “Just where I thought I’d find you—tied to your desk. Working too hard still?”

Griffin rubbed his neck. It was always good to hear from his brother.

“Just moving pieces around the Monopoly board,” he quipped. “How are things going in the OR, kid?”

His brother laughed. “Seen one appendix, seen them all. But that’s not why I’m calling.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Tessa is pregnant.”

“Good Lord.” He faked a groan. “You a father.”

“From you, I’ll take that as a compliment,” his brother shot back.

Griffin found himself smiling. “Seriously, congratulations. Fantastic news.”

“Thanks. We’re thrilled.”

“First Monica, now you. Well, at least you and Monica will have something in common for once in your lives.”

Josh laughed. “You’re making me shudder.”

As he and his brother chatted about his sister-in-law’s pregnancy, and the excitement about the upcoming arrival, Griffin’s mind traveled back to Eva’s declaration yesterday.

I’ll never have a baby now.

He’d brooded over her words all last night.

He’d intended to save her from a two-timing fortune hunter. He hadn’t realized he’d also be throwing a wrecking ball into her plans to beat her biological clock.

What the hell. Eva was only thirty-two. Plenty of women had children in their thirties, especially these days.

He’d looked up premature menopause on the Internet last night and had discovered it referred to women going into menopause in their thirties or even twenties. Some women were apparently genetically disposed to having their periods stop early, and from what Eva had said about her mother, Griffin concluded she was one of them.

“Hey, Griffin, you still there?” his brother asked, his voice exasperated but tinged with amusement.

Griffin realized he’d let his mind drift off.

“Yeah, sorry,” he responded. “Listen, you and Tessa should come up to San Fran again soon. We’ll celebrate. In fact, I’ve been thinking of throwing a little cocktail party for some business associates in a couple of weeks. It’d be great if I could coax you and Monica up here along with the spouses.”

“I’ve got to check our schedule,” Josh replied, “but I’m sure Tessa would love to travel as much as she can before the doctor grounds her for the last months of her pregnancy.”

“Excellent.”

“Putting that big house of yours to good use, huh?” his brother teased. “I’ve been wondering what you’ve been doing besides rattling around in it.”

“Saving it for all the nephews and nieces that you and Monica are going to give me,” he responded smoothly.

His brother snorted in disbelief. “Yeah, right. One day your wild harem parties are going to come to light.”

His brother’s teasing was a running joke between them. The truth was he’d lived life with a single-minded ambition since their parents had died.

When he signed off on his call with Josh, Griffin swiveled his chair to stare out his office windows.

He was happy for his brother, but it hammered home to him Eva’s problem. The problem he’d helped create for her.

I’ll never have a baby now.

For years, his attraction to Eva had been like a mild irritation—an itch he could avoid scratching if he put his mind to it.

And he had put his mind to it. He’d been focused on building his company and on parenting his younger siblings.

The last thing he’d needed was to get involved with his mentor’s daughter and the ensuing complications.

But now that he’d scaled the mountain he’d set himself to climbing, he was able to stop and look around—and realize that maybe he’d fought his attraction to Eva for too long.

That he’d almost lost her to a worthless cad like Newell brought that last thought home to him.

Obviously Eva couldn’t be trusted to make a sane decision about men, and by God, if she’d settle for Newell, she’d settle for him.

Griffin scanned the glittering crowd clustered on the terrace and lawn, and recognized most of the guests as regulars on San Francisco’s society circuit. He supposed Eva knew many of them—some of them doubtlessly since her private school or Junior League days.

Weeks ago, he’d received an invitation to tonight’s 1930s-themed party at the Palo Alto estate of socialite Beth Harding and her husband, Silicon Valley mogul Oliver Harding.

He’d initially decided not to attend, even though he and Oliver were acquainted from sitting on a couple of corporate boards together.

Right before the RSVP deadline, however, he’d changed his mind. He knew Beth was a good friend of Eva’s, and Marcus had mentioned weeks ago that Eva was the party planner for tonight’s event.

He hadn’t seen Eva since last week, when he’d had to break the ugly news of Carter’s infidelity to her, but he was determined to catch up with her.

So here he was, dressed in a zoot suit that he’d bought on the Internet, and feeling just a little ridiculous.

When he’d arrived a short time ago, the party had been well under way. Oliver had introduced him to Noah Whittaker, who was on a business trip to Silicon Valley for computer giant Whittaker Enterprises, and he’d spent some time talking business with the Boston-based entrepreneur.

He’d also gleaned from Oliver that Eva was mingling with the guests when she wasn’t in the kitchen. She was apparently walking a line between hired help and invited guest.

He raised his glass of wine to his lips and scanned the crowd again—then paused as he finally spotted her.

His pulse kicked up.

She was wearing a black cigar girl’s outfit. The tiny skirt reached to midthigh on her, revealing a set of shapely legs that went on forever. Fishnet stockings and platform peep-toe heels complemented the outfit.

She carried a small tray in front of her, suspended from a ribbon around her neck.

Clever, Griffin thought, even as desire heated his blood.

This was the first party he’d ever attended that had been organized by Eva. He wondered now whether he’d been too quick to judge and dismiss her business—and how good she was at it.

Absently he gave his wineglass to a passing waiter. Then he made his way toward her.

She was oblivious to his approach, but he reached her just as she began to move in the opposite direction.

“Making sure everything is going smoothly?” he asked before she could move out of earshot.

She whirled around.

Her eyes widened, and then narrowed. “In my work life you mean? Because as you know, my personal life is a mess at the moment.”

He gave a curt nod, and she pretended to look him over.

“What? No more shocking photos?” she baited him. “No more sensational evidence?”

“I heard you gave Carter the boot.”

“From my father, no doubt.”

“You didn’t completely explain to him why, though.”

She tilted her head. “Disappointed that I’ve been spared the ultimate humiliation?”

“I wouldn’t say that. I can think of worse things—”

“—than telling my father he was more than right?” she finished for him mockingly. “That Carter was cheating on me?”

“Your father does care about you, Eva.”

He glimpsed sudden and unexpected emotion in her eyes.

“Yes, I know, but sometimes that doesn’t help,” she responded finally. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a job to do.”

He reached out and captured her elbow. “The party’s winding down.”

She glanced down at his hand on her elbow, then back up at him. “Take your hand off me.”

He ignored her. “We both know you’re as much a guest here as anything, and at this point in the evening, your job is basically done. You can spare a few minutes.”

She looked exasperated. “You don’t quit, do you?”

His lips quirked. “Someday, you may come to appreciate that as one of my finer qualities.”

“I doubt it. Though considering how few fine qualities you possess, on second thought, maybe the idea isn’t so far-fetched.”

“Are you going to stand there throwing verbal poisoned darts at me, or can we step aside and talk for a few minutes?”

She lifted her brows. “I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to catch up with me.”

“You’re a difficult woman to get hold of.”

He’d purposely shown up late to the party, because he was here for one purpose only.

“Fine,” she responded. “Follow me.”

Following her entailed winding their way past assorted guests. Some of them attempted to get Eva’s attention or his, but Eva was determined not to be detained for more than a few moments, and he, likewise, was set on not having their progress halted.

Eva stopped when they made it inside to the kitchen. She removed the tray from around her neck as various employees hustled past them, bearing food in and out of the kitchen.

Griffin counted gangsters, chorus girls, office girls and, yes, cigar girls.

Eva folded her arms. “Shoot.”

He glanced around. “I was thinking of some place more private.”

“Too bad. This is all I have time for.”

On closer inspection, he noticed her face looked strained. As if she hadn’t been sleeping well.

He silently cursed Carter Newell—and for good measure, damned his own role in bringing Newell’s transgressions to Eva’s attention.

His lips tightened. “I created this problem.”

Eva frowned. “What problem?”

“Your broken engagement.”

She spread her hands. “Look, Griffin, I know what I said last week, but I’m an adult. Now that the initial shock has passed, I know enough not to blame the messenger—”

“I’m not talking about Carter,” he interrupted.

“Well, good—but what are you talking about then?”

“I’m talking about throwing a wrench in your plans to beat the biological clock.”

She tilted her head. “Yes, well…that was an unintended consequence, wasn’t it?”

“What are you going to do?” he asked bluntly. The issue had been bothering him since last week. A lot.

She sighed, looking weary and vulnerable. “I don’t know yet.”

“Have dinner with me tomorrow night,” he offered without preamble.

Her eyes widened a fraction, pools of golden-amber. “I can’t.”

“Why not? Do you have to work?”

“No…tonight is the only time I have to work this weekend.”

“Then have dinner with me.”

“Why?” she asked, suspicion darkening her tone. “So you can ambush me with more disturbing news?”

“Unfair. You know better.”

“Then why?”

He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Maybe I’m interested in stepping up to the plate.”

Her eyes widened for real this time. “What?”

“You want a baby, and I’m the guy who created your present problem,” he said evenly.

A half laugh escaped her, her expression disbelieving.

“Don’t you think your boss would frown on your knocking up his daughter?” she asked tartly.

He felt a smile tug at his lips. “In the first place, your father is really no longer my employer. In the second, I’m offering to do this right. Marriage.”

She looked stunned, but she recovered quickly. “Isn’t it a bit much to be volunteering to fix things this way?”

“Why don’t you let me worry about that part?”

Her lips parted. “There’s no spark between us.”

“I disagree.”

The words hung in the air between them, and he could tell she was remembering the kiss they’d shared at her apartment, just as he hadn’t been able to forget it, either.

She laughed again, but it came out a trifle forced. Then she moved to step by him. “Griffin, be serious.”

“I am,” he said, blocking her with his arm when she was very close.

She looked up at him mutely.

“Why don’t we kiss and put it to the test?”

A flash of alarm crossed her face.

“I don’t think—”

“That’s right, don’t think,” he parried.

And before she could say anything more, he swept her into his arms.