Читать книгу Her Christmas Temptation: The Billionaire Who Bought Christmas / What She Really Wants for Christmas / Baby, It's Cold Outside - Debbi Rawlins - Страница 12

AS SHE marched up the impossibly imposing brick steps at the Osland mansion outside Manchester, Dee Dee trotting along on her leash, Kristy reminded herself that nothing had changed. Recognition and success in the fashion world were still her dream.

She’d already had plenty of other setbacks over the years. And every time, she’d picked herself up, dusted herself off and redoubled her effort to bring her fashions to the attention of the industry.

Now, gazing up at the sprawling, three-story, snow-covered Colonial, she assured herself this was no different. She’d pick herself up one more time. Marrying Jack was merely a blip on her road to success, and a year from now she’d be laughing at the absurdity of thinking she was in love after only two days. Nobody fell in love that fast. She’d been swept off her feet by a man who’d set out to trap her. That was all.

Of course he’d seemed like the perfect man. Anybody could pretend to be perfect for two days. He’d laughed at her jokes, pretended to admire her intelligence, professed to like the same wines and catered to her every whim.

But it had all been a lie, a sham. And as soon as he’d shifted to the real Jack, she hadn’t liked him at all. In fact, she’d hated him then. She still did. And that was why showing up on his doorstep and cornering him with his fake marriage was going to be so easy.

In the back of the limo, halfway between the airport and the Osland estate, she’d realized she wasn’t simply getting revenge for Cleveland. She was also doing it for herself. Jack was in line for a comeuppance, and her success would show him a thing or two about judging people.

“And it will be his own darn fault,” she pointed out to Dee Dee as she reached to ring the bell.

It chimed a musical tune, echoing inside the huge house.

A dark-haired, middle-aged woman opened the door. She wore a blue-and-white tunic with slim gray slacks. Her glance flicked to Dee Dee then returned to Kristy.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” she asked pleasantly.

“I’m here to see Jack Osland.”

The woman stepped back, opening the door wide. “Mr. Osland is expecting you?”

Kristy shook her head.

The woman’s smile faltered for a scant second. “Who shall I tell him is calling?”

Kristy stepped over the threshold. Dee Dee followed, her trimmed nails making muted clicks on the black-and-white tile.

“His wife,” said Kristy.

The woman’s brown eyes went round for a moment. “I’m sorry?”

Kristy nodded in confirmation of what the woman had just heard. “You can tell him his wife is … home.”

“Fine.” With admirable aplomb, the woman gestured to a gilt settee along one oak wall of the bright, octagonal room. “Please, do have a seat.”

“Thank you,” said Kristy, as the woman exited down a long hallway. She walked over to the settee with Dee Dee trotting along beside her. Instead of sitting down, she scooped the dog into her arms, straightening Dee Dee’s blue, satin-lined coat. It was made of fleece, with a discreet appliqué sewn at the collar. She gave the dog a reassuring pat, snuggling it close to her chest.

It took about thirty seconds for swift, masculine footsteps to sound on the hardwood floor of the hallway.

Kristy took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders as Jack rounded the corner.

When he saw her, he came to an abrupt halt. Sunbeams from the beveled windows shone in his dark eyes, highlighted the uncompromising planes and angles of his clean-shaven face.

“Is this a joke?” he demanded.

She kept her voice light and airy by sheer force of will. “Hello, honey.”

His square jaw clenched in the booming silence that followed her words.

“I’m home,” she finished.

He advanced warily, as if Dee Dee might bite. Which was ridiculous.

“This isn’t your home,” he stated.

“I’m your wife.”

“In name only.”

“Actually, if you’ll recall, your name was pretty much the only thing I didn’t take.”

“What do you want?”

“Domestic bliss.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“If this is about money—”

“This is about fashion.”

He rolled his eyes and made a sound of disbelief deep in his chest.

Another figure emerged from the hallway. “There you are.” Cleveland strode across the foyer, his hands outstretched.

Jack jerked back in reaction.

“We were getting worried,” said Cleveland, scooping Dee Dee out of Kristy’s arms and planting a dry kiss on Kristy’s cheek.

“Gramps,” Jack interrupted.

“Did I forget to mention Kristy was coming?” the old man asked Jack, his face a picture of innocence. Kristy didn’t buy it for a second.

Then all of Cleveland’s attention turned to Dee Dee. “There’s my sweet Pookie,” he cooed, holding the dog aloft and letting her lick his nose. To Jack he said, “Don’t just stand there, my boy. Get the suitcases.”

“She’s not staying,” Jack quickly put in.

“She is. She’s your wife.”

“This isn’t a joking matter. If she moves in—”

“I’ve offered Kristy the use of the workshop above the garage.”

Kristy watched Jack’s eyes narrow, small creases appearing in the corners. “Why?”

“To prepare for the Breakout Designer Contest at the Matte Fashion Event in London. Sierra Sanchez is sponsoring her.”

Jack shot Kristy an accusatory glare.

The man could certainly be intimidating, but she refused to back down. She wouldn’t, not after coming this far. Still, she didn’t want to fight in front of Cleveland. So she arranged her features in a picture of naïveté. “Would you mind showing me to my room?” she asked Jack.

“Great idea,” said Cleveland, tucking Dee Dee into his arm like a football. “By the way, Nanette and I have called it quits. She’s keeping the ring. And the Ferrari as a matter of fact.”

With that, the older man strode from the foyer.

Jack’s dark gaze bore into Kristy. “How did you do it?”

She couldn’t resist. “The same way Nanette did it?”

“Kristy,” he growled.

“I showed him my clothes, Jack. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“This family is my business.”

Okay. She wasn’t going to do this. He was one powerful and sexy man, and he clearly wasn’t used to being crossed.

Not that she was crossing him. Quite the contrary. He was the one who’d crossed her. But she suspected it would be a cold day in hell before he’d admit it.

She tipped up her chin. “I think I’ll check out the workshop. I’ve got a lot to do.”

“This is about revenge, isn’t it?”

She barked out a cold laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself. If not for the career opportunity, I wouldn’t have given you another thought for the rest of my life.”

She was lying. She’d lain awake four nights running remembering him.

THE WORKSHOP was a dream come true. Kristy had been expecting something dark and dusty, since it was above the garage, which was separate from the house. Instead, the room was bright and sparkling, with high ceilings and freshly painted white walls. A bank of windows lined one wall of the huge, rectangular room, while fluorescent lights gleamed off the hardwood floor. It had five oversized, white-topped tables, at least a dozen utility chairs, several padded stools and a long bank of closets stretching from one end to the other.

While she struggled to keep her jaw from dropping open, Jack crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me again how this isn’t about revenge.”

She snapped herself back to reality. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“I’m the one footing your bill.”

“Your grandfather’s footing my bill. He’s also the one getting revenge.”

Jack drew back in surprise. “You’re Gramps’s revenge on me?”

“Either that or I’m a brilliant fashion designer. Take your pick.”

Jack gave a snort of disbelief.

“Thanks so much for the vote of confidence.”

“I’m going with the mathematical odds.”

“Well, I’d give it a thousand to one that I’m staying.”

“You can’t stay.”

“Oh, yes I can.” She was planting her butt in this dream of a workshop and getting ready for the most prestigious fashion contest in the world.

“My mother will be here tomorrow.”

“So?”

“So, I am not about to explain a wife over the garage.”

“I take it she doesn’t know about your preemptive marriage?”

“Of course she doesn’t know.”

“Then you might want to come up with a cover story.” Kristy turned away, running her fingers over the smooth tabletop, meandering her way through the room.

“I get it,” said Jack with a frustrated sigh. “Go ahead. Tell me what it’ll take?”

“For me to disappear?”

“Of course.”

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

“I mean there’s nothing you can offer. Nothing I want.” Other than what she had here. She had exactly what she wanted right here. Except for Jack’s oppressive presence, obviously.

“Everybody wants something,” he said.

“Maybe. But I’ve already got it.”

“Do you want an apology? Is that it?”

She turned back. “An apology would have been nice four days ago.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I misjudged you. I’m sorry I married you.”

“What you mean is that you’re sorry you’re stuck with me.”

“Can you be reasonable for a minute?”

“I don’t think so.”

Jack gave a hard sigh.

“You made your bed,” she pointed out.

“And I made a pretty damn fine bed for you while I was at it.”

“And I’m lying in it.”

His jaw tightened, and they stared at each other in crackling silence.

But, despite her best efforts, her sympathies were engaged. She had a mother, too.

“You don’t have to tell her we’re married,” she finally suggested.

“You announced it to the staff,” he reminded her.

“Oh, yeah.” She paused. “Bad luck.”

“That makes this partly your fault.”

“That’s the tack you want to take?”

He’d had her there for a second, but he was quickly losing the advantage. This wasn’t her problem. It was his. And she didn’t need to feel any obligation to solve it for him.

But then he had the grace to look sheepish, and she felt bad again. And his motives, after all, were honorable. He was trying to help his grandfather. Kristy had merely been collateral damage.

“We could tell her the truth,” she offered. “We had a whirlwind relationship in Vegas.”

“And how do I explain that you’re in the guest room?”

“I didn’t work out? We had a fight?”

He advanced on her. “That’ll just raise more questions.”

“Well, we’re running out of options here.” She was trying to be helpful, but he wasn’t making it easy.

“Not quite.”

“What do you mean?”

“We pretend we’re happily married. Then we pretend we divorce in a month or so.”

Kristy shook her head. That sounded like way too much Jack, and way too often. “I don’t think so.”

He glanced around the big room. “Name your price.”

“I already told you, I don’t have a price.”

“Fabric? Notions? Sewing machines?”

“Cleveland beat you to it.”

“A staff?” Jack continued. “An unlimited budget.”

“No.”

“Do you have any idea what an unlimited budget means in my world?”

“You mean the world where you own private jets and rent helicopters?”

He nodded. “That world.”

She wasn’t sure if it was his apology, the expression in his eyes or the thought of an unlimited budget. But, she hesitated.

“Do you want to win the contest?” asked Jack.

Sure, she wanted to win. Her life would change overnight if she won.

His voice dropped to a conspiratorial level. “I can make that happen.”

“You can’t bribe the judges.” What kind of a victory would that be?

Jack rolled his eyes. “I’m not bribing anybody. I can get you silk from the Orient, wool from Kashmir, lace from France, and I can fly you to the corners of the earth to pick it all out.”

Kristy was human enough to be tempted.

And Jack was smart enough to seize the moment. He held out his hand.

She narrowed her eyes, wanting to make sure their cards were on the table. “And I’d have to …?”

“Smile at parties, sip champagne, wrap a few gifts and skate on the pond.” Then his gaze went dark and his voice turned husky. “And sleep in my bed, of course.”

A rush of heat burst in her chest.

“Purely platonic, I promise,” he quickly added.

“You’ve lied to me before,” she pointed out.

“True enough.” He inched closer. “But I’m not lying this time. I’ll keep my hands off, and the world is yours for the taking.”

Kristy’s instincts screamed at her to say yes. She was probably crazy. In fact, she was sure she was crazy. But he’d apologized, and he didn’t really seem like a bad guy. And the things she could do with an unlimited budget….

Fate was smiling on her.

In fact, fate was flat-out grinning at her.

“Deal,” she said, before she could change her mind. Then she reached out to shake his hand.

LATER THAT evening, Jack stopped in the open door of Cleveland’s study. “You,” he said to his grandfather, “are a scheming and manipulative old man.”

Cleveland glanced up from where he was cooing at the goofy little dog. “Unlike you?”

“You brought her here on purpose.”

“I brought her here to design clothing.”

Jack shook his head, advancing into the room, past the leather sofa, the grandfather clock and the stone fireplace, to get to the mahogany bar, which jutted out from an oak-paneled wall. “You did not. And this fashion contest is going to be a total embarrassment for Sierra Sanchez.”

“Not necessarily,” said Cleveland.

“Yes, necessarily,” Jack countered. Plucking a gorgeous woman out of obscurity and throwing her onto the world fashion stage had about a million-to-one chance of being successful.

“Well, I really like her,” said Cleveland.

“You really like all hot women under the age of thirty-five.”

Cleveland smiled. “At least I don’t marry them.”

Jack poured himself a snifter of brandy. “Actually, Gramps, you do.”

“As usual, you’re exaggerating. All Nanette got was a sports car, a mink coat and a diamond ring.” Cleveland ruffled the fur between the dog’s ears. “Wasn’t that all she got, Pookie?”

Jack took a seat in a leather armchair, frowning at the dog. His grandfather had always had a soft spot for animals. Though Jack had never seen him quite this attached to one before.

“You should make a go of it with Kristy,” said Cleveland. “She’s a great girl.”

Jack coughed out a laugh. “That’s a perfect idea. Because we’ve obviously set such a good foundation for a long-term relationship.”

A telltale twinkle came into Cleveland’s eyes. “So, have you decided what you’re going to tell your mother?”

Jack gave him a smug smirk in return. “That it was a whirlwind romance. Kristy’s agreed to play along.”

“Really.” Cleveland looked surprised.

Jack nodded his answer, swirling the amber liquid against his warm palm.

“And what did that cost you?”

Jack paused. “More than Nanette’s sports car. Less than the condo you bought for Opal.”

“I knew I liked that girl.”

“Irene Compton says she’s mediocre.”

Cleveland shrugged. “What does Irene know? I have a feel for these things.”

“No you do not have a feel for these things.” What Cleveland had a feel for was his libido. He might not have been dating Kristy, but he couldn’t have missed the fact that she was a knockout. “Irene, on the other hand, has been in the fashion business for thirty years.”

“Everybody’s wrong sometime,” said Cleveland.

While that might be true, Jack knew experts were right a whole lot more often than they were wrong. That’s why he hired them, and that’s why he paid them so well.

Irene was an expert. And since Kristy was, by Irene’s account, a mediocre designer, there was a good chance she’d crash and burn at the Breakout Designer Contest.

Bad for Sierra Sanchez, and bad for Kristy. Jack frowned at both of those thoughts and took a swig of his brandy.

Hunter appeared in the doorway. “You two kids playing nice?”

“Jack’s a bit snippy,” said Cleveland.

“Gramps is busy playing God.”

“Not God,” said Gramps. Then he paused. “Yeah, okay. God it is.”

Hunter chuckled and shook his head, sauntering over to the bar. “You know there are three huge vans out in the driveway?”

“I called earlier to express a few things over for Kristy,” said Jack.

“Ahh, the blushing bride,” said Hunter as he followed Jack’s lead and poured himself a brandy.

Jack gestured to the two men with his glass. “You two remember, for the holiday season, she is the blushing bride.”

Hunter held up his hands. “Hey, I’m not about to tell our moms what you did.”

Cleveland nodded. “And I’m not about to tell them why you did it.”

“Just so we’re clear,” said Jack. “I’ll announce an amicable divorce in January.”

“And Kristy’s going along with this because?” asked Hunter.

“Because of the three huge vans in the driveway,” replied Jack.

“See how easy it is?” asked Cleveland.

“Funny,” said Hunter. “She didn’t strike me as the mercenary type.”

“Everybody has their price,” Jack repeated.

Not that he held it against her. Kristy recognized a good thing when she saw it was all. And Jack could respect that. It wasn’t as if he was buying her a sports car or a five-carat diamond she could turn around and hawk. It was in everybody’s best interest for her to do well at the Breakout Designer Contest.

Cleveland rose from his chair. “So, now that the fun’s over, Pookie and I are off to bed.”

“You’ll remember about Kristy?” asked Jack.

“Yes, I’ll remember about Kristy,” Cleveland harrumphed. “You think I’m going senile?”

Jack looked at Hunter, and Hunter looked at Jack.

Cleveland shook a wrinkled finger in their direction. “Don’t you forget whose brain it was that built this company. An empty warehouse and a corner store. That’s what I started with.”

“And the family seat at the stock exchange,” Hunter pointed out.

“Wasn’t worth a dime in the thirties,” Cleveland countered, scratching Dee Dee on the head. “Insolent young pups,” he muttered. Then he left the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

“He seem okay to you?” Hunter asked, folding himself into the armchair opposite Jack.

“Mostly,” replied Jack. He always thought his grandfather was absentminded only when it suited him. But Jack wondered how much of it was an act, and how much of it was a sign of a failing memory.

“He broke up with Nanette,” said Jack. “So, that’s a plus.”

“And you marrying Kristy?” Hunter asked with a self-satisfied grin. “That a plus, too?”

“That,” said Jack, swirling his brandy again, “is an inconvenience.”

“A gorgeous woman pretending to be your wife. Yeah, I’d call that an inconvenience, all right.”

“She’s not pretending,” Jack corrected. For better or worse, Kristy actually was his wife.

“So, you’ll be sleeping with her?” asked Hunter.

“In a manner of speaking.” Jack shifted in his chair.

Hunter gave a knowing chuckle. “Now that, cousin, is an inconvenience.”

Jack polished off his drink. “Speaking of which.” He rose to his feet. “I’d better make sure she can find the towels.”

“You poor, pathetic thing,” laughed Hunter.

“What?”

“It’s only ten-thirty.”

Jack refused to react. So it was early. So he was looking forward to climbing into bed with Kristy. So sue him.