Читать книгу The Ultimate Millionaire - Сьюзен Мэллери, Susan Mallery - Страница 5

G randma Ruth’s three-story Bel Air mansion was just as awe-inspiring the second time Marina pulled in to the stone covered circular driveway. It was massive and out of place—this was Los Angeles, not eighteenth century England. But the rich lived different lives, Marina thought as she climbed out of her aging import. Lives with live-in staff. Her idea of help at home was a package of premoistened glass cleaning towelettes.

She glanced at the double door leading into the house and decided to wait until Todd showed up before going inside. Okay, sure, she shouldn’t be intimidated by her grandmother’s maid, but she was. So what? She had other positive attributes she could focus on.

Less than a minute later, a gleaming silver Mercedes pulled into the driveway. The car was a sporty two-seater model, the kind that cost as much as the national debt of a small third world country.

The guy who climbed out of it was just as impressive. Tall, well tailored and sexy enough to encourage smart women to make some really stupid choices. She would have to make sure she didn’t fall into the category. Fortunately he wasn’t her type.

“Marina,” Todd said with a grin. “I thought you would have already scouted the house and made the decision.”

“We’re a team, Todd. I totally respect that.” Or she would as long as it suited her.

Speaking of suits, his was dark gray, with a subtle pattern in the weave of the fabric. His pale blue shirt contrasted with the deep burgundy tie. While she preferred a more casual look, he wore his power extremely well. She, on the other hand, looked like a college student with a limited budget. Although her skinny jeans had zipped up with no problem, which made this a very good day.

She collected her digital camera and a small notebook, then followed him to the front door. “I have about an hour,” she said as she checked her watch. “Then I have to be back at UCLA for a class.”

“What are you taking?”

“I’m not. I’m interpreting.” She glanced at him. “I’m a sign language interpreter for deaf students. I specialize in chemistry and physics, mostly the upper division classes.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Impressive.”

“It’s not that hard for me. I’ve taken all the classes myself, so I understand the material. I have three advanced science degrees. Eventually I’m going to have to pick a Ph.D. program, but I’m not ready yet. I already knew how to sign, so I decided to do this for a couple of years.”

His eyes widened. “Three advanced science degrees?”

She loved people underestimating her. “Uh-huh. It’s less impressive when you know I started college at fifteen.”

“Oh, sure. It’s practically ordinary. You’re pretty smart.”

She smiled. “Smarter than you, big guy.”

He laughed. “I’ll remember that.”

He knocked on the front door and when the maid answered, he greeted her by name.

“We’re here to see the ballroom, Katie,” he told the woman in uniform. “Then check out the backyard.”

The maid nodded. “Yes, sir. Your grandmother told me you’d be stopping by. Would you like me to show you upstairs?”

“We can find it. Thanks.”

Marina smiled at the other woman, then followed Todd across a huge foyer and up a wide, curving staircase.

“So how big is your staff?” she asked as they reached the second floor and walked along a long, carpeted hallway. There were dozens of paintings on the wall and pieces of furniture that were probably impressive antiques, if she knew anything about them.

“Five live-ins, six dailies.”

“What?” she asked. She’d only seen his house from a distance—and it had been bigger than this one—but still. “What do they do?”

He turned to her, touched his finger to the tip of her nose and smiled. “Gotcha. I have a housekeeper who hires people to keep the house clean and take care of the grounds. She comes in three days a week. I’d rather not have any staff, but the house is old and big and I’m not willing to deal with it, so she does.”

Okay, one housekeeper was better than five live-ins.

They took a second staircase that flowed into a landing that was bigger than Marina’s apartment. A wall of ornate doors opened into a ballroom the size of a football field.

She stepped into the center of the room and turned in a slow circle. There were gilded mirrors on the walls and dozens of sparkling chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The parquet floor gleamed and reflected the sunlight from the windows.

The walls had been painted a neutral pale beige, so any color theme would work.

“We’re talking about tables of either eight or ten,” Todd said as he pulled out his PalmPilot and pushed a few buttons. “We can fit as many as thirty tables in here and still have room for people to get around.”

Marina did the math. “Can we fit twenty-eight tables and still have room for dancing and the band?”

Todd looked at her. “Orchestra. Not band. Julie said elegant. Bands aren’t elegant.”

Maybe not, but she’d never been to a wedding with an orchestra. “You think the L.A. Philharmonic is available?”

He grinned. “I’d have to check their schedule, but I was thinking of something a little smaller. I have a group in mind that I’ve heard play at other venues.”

Venues? So while the rest of America went to the mall, the über rich had venues? “What sort of venues would these be?”

“Mostly fund-raisers. A couple of weddings. I’ll find out where they’re playing in the next couple of weeks and we’ll go hear them. They’re great. Trust me.”

Trust him? Not yet.

She put down her notebook and began taking pictures of the vast space. “I really like this room,” she said as she turned slowly to get every angle. “I’ll e-mail these photos to Julie as soon as I’m done with class.”

“There’s more,” he said and led her to a series of French doors. He unlocked the first one and opened it, then motioned for her to lead the way.

She stepped out onto a wide balcony that overlooked the property. Although if one couldn’t see where the fence line was, did that make it an estate?

The grounds were stunning. She could see the terrace and the pool and the gardens beyond.

“This would give us extra space,” he said as he joined her. “A place for people to get some air. We could put lights in the garden for the view.”

“I like it,” she said more to herself than him. “Anyone can get married in a backyard, but this is incredible. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

She turned back to the ballroom where she could imagine the tables and guests and flowers. Talk about making some memories.

“So you prefer the ballroom?” he asked.

“I do, but it’s Julie’s choice. Let’s go downstairs and take some pictures of the garden so she and Ryan can decide. Once we know which way they want to go, we’re free to start making other arrangements.”

They made their way back downstairs, then stepped out onto the manicured terrace. It looked more like the grounds of a five-star hotel than someone’s home, she thought as she took pictures, not sure how she felt about her grandmother living here.

Something of her confusion must have showed because Todd asked, “What’s wrong?”

She pocketed the digital camera and tucked her notebook under her arm. “I keep thinking how strange this is—that a grandmother I never knew about was alive and well about fifteen miles from where I grew up. That this is her world and I can remember times when we didn’t have enough money to have meat with dinner.”

She shook her head. “I’m not complaining. My mom was great and my sisters and I always had plenty of everything we needed. Money was tight, but that’s how it was with most of our neighbors. I’m okay with that. But now, to find out there’s a whole other way of looking at things, it’s strange.” She looked at him. “I’m not explaining myself well and this is more information than you wanted.”

“Of course this is different. For what it’s worth, Ruth regrets all the years she was apart from you and your family. Her husband, my uncle, was a hard man. He didn’t believe in forgiveness. Ruth simply didn’t have the strength to stand up to him.”

“That’s what she said.”

“It’s true.”

Great. So it seemed she came from a long line of women who surrendered heart and mind to their men. All the more reason not to get involved.

He looked at her. “You should try to understand what Ruth went through.”

Todd Aston the Third being sensitive? “Okay, now I’m freaked out on two different levels. The contrast between what I’m used to and this, and your emotional perception.”

“I’m a man of great mystery.”

That made her laugh. “Of course you are. Wealth, power and mystery. You should put that on your business cards.”

He led the way around the side of the house toward their cars. “I’m way ahead of you, Marina. I have it tattooed on my back.”

She grinned. “I thought you’d have a stick up your butt,” she said before she could stop herself.

“They know how to fix that now. Isn’t modern medicine a miracle?”

She sighed. “You know what I mean. I thought you’d be…different.”

“Unpleasant?”

“Imperious.”

“I can be, if that would make you happy.”

“No, thanks.” She opened her notebook. “Okay, venue research complete. Which leaves us with food, the cake, flowers, a photographer and all kinds of other messy details.”

“The dress,” he reminded her. “We’ll have to look at something off the rack. There’s no time for a custom gown.”

She glanced at him, surprised he would know that. “Let me guess. More bridal magazine research? Although somehow I can’t see you sitting down with a latte and a bridal magazine.”

“I can’t have a latte then. Black coffee to combat all the girliness. It’s about balance.”

Until this moment, she hadn’t thought of Todd as a person. At first he’d been just a name, then he’d been the guy who tried to break up her sister and Ryan. Then an annoyance who would get in her way about the wedding. But now…

“Why do you hide who you are behind your reputation?” she asked. “The money thing. The model thing.”

He unlocked his car. “I’ve dated maybe three models in my life, Marina. You need to let go.”

“You’re right. I will.”

“Good.” He sat in his car and grinned. “Of course, two of them didn’t speak English.”

They didn’t…Then how…She glared at him. “You had better be kidding. Not speak English?”

He nodded. “I was simply doing my part to improve American relationships with our neighbors.” He smiled angelically. “I know a great caterer. I’ll set something up and get back to you with the details.”

With that he was gone.

Three days later Todd stood in front of the catering office and watched Marina walk toward him. She wore jeans, a UCLA sweatshirt and her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Not someone who dressed to impress.

There was also an air of determination about her that made him anticipate plenty of flying sparks. Planning a wedding might not be his idea of a good time, but so far Marina had been a pleasant surprise. Smart and sexy. He’d been looking forward to seeing her again.

When she stopped in front of him, she put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

“I looked you up on the Internet,” she said. “The models in question spoke perfectly good English, albeit with an accent.”

“Albeit?” he asked as he raised his eyebrows. “Are we in a Jane Austen novel?”

“What do you know about Jane Austen?”

“Every good useless male who only dates models knows all about chick flicks and Jane Austen. It’s required. I not only saw Bridget Jones’s Diary twice, I’ve seen the special features. Ask me anything.”

She burst out laughing. The sound was light and sexy and made him want to touch her. All of her. Unexpected heat swept through him, startling him with its intensity.

He immediately took a step back, both physically and mentally. He and Marina were on a mission. He was here to protect Ryan’s interests and not die of boredom in the process. If tweaking Marina’s assumptions about him got him through the day, then he was up to the task. But actually enjoying her company—not a good idea. Getting involved with his aunt-by-marriage’s youngest granddaughter wouldn’t be very intelligent.

“This place comes highly recommended,” he said as they made their way to the front door. “It’s supposed to be good food with more choices than beef or chicken. If this is the one we pick, we’ll be able to customize the menu. Or in our case, argue over food options.”

“You think we’re going to argue?” she asked.

“I’m counting on it.”

“I’m a pretty agreeable person, but I’m sure you’re difficult,” she said as he held open the door. “I’ll be flexible on food, but not the dessert thing.”

“What dessert thing?”

She smiled at him. “That we have dessert. It’s one of the great thrills of a wedding. You get dessert and cake. How often does that happen in life?”

“Far be it from me to get between a woman and her sugar fix.”

“Pretty and smart,” she murmured. “How impressive.”

“I know.” He turned his attention to the receptionist and introduced them.

“I’m Zoe,” the woman said with a smile. “We’re ready for you. If you’d come this way?”

They were led in to a small room set up like a dining area. The table for six had two place settings at one end.

Zoe seated them, then pointed out the menu printed on a single sheet by the plates.

“We’ll go in order,” she said. “We’ll start with soups, then the salads and so on. Please make notes or write down any questions.”

She left and then returned immediately with three small bowls for each of them.

“Lovely presentation,” Marina said as she picked the sprig of garnish out of one of the bowls. “Why do they have to put some garden weed on top of a dish? What is it? How do we know where it’s been?”

“The not knowing adds to the thrill of the moment.”

She looked at him, her blue eyes wide. “Are you thrilled?”

She was close enough that he could see a couple of pale freckles on her nose and hint of a dimple in her cheek. Once again he thought about touching her…and didn’t.

“Beyond words.”

“Liar,” she murmured, then took a taste of the first soup. “Split pea with something else. Not bad.”

He tasted it and shook his head. “No, thanks.”

They both passed on the creamy mystery soup, while he liked the chicken vegetable and Marina complained it was too healthy.

“We’re at a wedding. Do we really have to get our five servings of fruits and vegetables in the first course?”

He poked around the bowl. “Not a lot of fruit that I can see.”

“You know what I mean.” She set down her spoon. “What about tortilla soup? Or a quesadilla? Doesn’t that sound good?”

“You want Mexican food at your sister’s wedding?”

Marina’s shoulders slumped. “Not really, but I could go for some right now. I should have eaten before coming here. I’m really hungry.”

“So you like food.”

She narrowed her gaze. “Yes, some women eat. I eat. Shocking, but true. I also run every day, so I can pretty much eat what I like and enjoy it. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Running with that chip on your shoulder must help with your workout. The extra weight would increase intensity.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. “You’re saying I’m a little sensitive about the food thing?”

“Would I say that?”

“You’re thinking I’m overreacting because you date models and I don’t feel I measure up to their ideal.”

“You’re doing all the talking.”

“I’m not intimidated. Mostly not. Sometimes, maybe a little. But I’d like to point out that these are my skinny jeans. They’ve fit all week and they look fabulous on me.”

“Yes, they do.” He’d admired the curve of her hips and her long legs when she’d first walked up. He was willing to take another look, if that would make her happy.

“I don’t seek approval from anyone but myself.”

“Why would you?”

She smiled. “You’re humoring me.”

“It seems safest. You have some attitude on you.”

“I know. I don’t get it. I’m actually a fairly calm person. I’m not sure what it is about you that pushes all my buttons.”

“It’s because I’m so smooth and handsome,” he said as Zoe came in with several salad plates, along with a basket of rolls. “You’re uncomfortable.”

Marina waited until they were alone to respond. When Zoe had picked up the soup bowls and left, she said, “I’m not uncomfortable. You have an ego the size of Antarctica. You’re not that special.”

“Of course I am. You researched me. Who was the last guy you researched?”

“The men I know are totally normal. Researching is not required. You make me crazy.”

“Then my work here is complete.”

She shook her head. “Eat your salad.”

He took a bite of the first salad. There were a lot of strange looking lettuces and shavings of things he didn’t recognize. Salad was highly overrated, he thought grimly.

“Think about the guys you usually date,” he said, enjoying the fact that he could get to her. “Scruffy, poor grad students. When compared to me, they don’t have a chance.”

She glared at him. “Oh, right. Why would dating the next brilliant man who will change the course of history by improving the world be considered interesting?”

He picked up a roll and leaned toward her. “They’re nerds. They’re not interesting yet and they’re not good in bed. Admit it.”

Fury darkened her eyes. She opened her mouth, probably to yell at him. He stuck the roll between her lips.

“Not bad,” he said, pointing at the second salad. “I like the blue cheese. What do you think?”

She pulled the roll away and glared at him. “I think you’re a pompous, egotistical ass.”

He tasted the third salad and grimaced. “So you like me.”

“I don’t.”

“Of course you do. But I was asking about the salads. What do you think?”

She pointed at the one he’d tasted third. “That one works.”

He shook his head. “Not a good idea. There’s too much garlic in the dressing.”

“Since when do you know anything about cooking?”

“I don’t.” Could he help it that she set him up with one good line after the other? Sometimes a guy couldn’t help cutting a break. “But I do know about weddings.” He glanced around, then leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “Kissing. Lots and lots of kissing at weddings. You don’t want the guests to have garlic breath.”

Awareness crackled in the room. He thought Marina might get nervous or change the subject, but her gaze never left his. The humor was gone, replaced by a tension that quickly flared into need.

What would it be like to kiss her? What would her mouth feel like against his? How soft? How hungry? How sexy?

Was she the kind of woman who took charge, or did she like to be convinced? The possibilities were endless and suddenly he wanted to explore them all.

“I think you’re overstating the problem,” she said. “I don’t think the garlic is that big a deal, but if it is, we could simply change the dressing on the salad.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” he said and leaned in farther, then brushed his mouth against hers.

There was heat and need. They competed for his attention. Marina didn’t move, but he heard her breath quicken. But before he could take things to the next level, Zoe returned.

“What did you…Oh. Sorry. Should I come back?”

Todd straightened. “No. We know what we need to do.”