THIRTY-DAY FIANCÉ

by Leanne Banks

  She covered her eyes with her hand in frustration, then peeked through her fingers at him. "I was thinking of the word 'tough.'"

  Nick leaned back against a cushion and thought about her question. He recalled turning points in his career, in law school, college, high school, and even further back. "I think the day I started getting tougher was the day your brother broke my nose. I decided I was not going to be the little runt—"

  "Runt!" Olivia said in disbelief. "You were never a runt. I remember you as smart and strong and brave."

  Nick narrowed his eyes at her. Her face guileless, she wasn't joking. Olivia had never seen him as a runt, even when he had seen himself that way. An odd warmth suffused him. Not trusting the sensation, he shrugged. "I developed my competitive instinct when I wrestled in high school. Then I worked hard and played hard in college and law school. Once I started practicing law, I became even more focused because I wanted to win. Every time," he added with a grin.

  "Helen told me one of the partners said you kill like a lion—breaking your opponent's back," Olivia said.

  "Helen exaggerates," Nick said, and took another long swallow of beer.

  "I don't think so," Olivia said. "She works with you and knows you too well to exaggerate."

  "If there's anything the partners like about me it's my knack for speed. I know which buttons to push to get the opponent to move. Case in point is Lissa Roberts. The defendant's attorney didn't want to talk, until he received pictures of Lissa before her plastic surgery that will be an exhibit in court. Suddenly I'm popular. The defendant's attorney wants to talk with me."

  Olivia smiled and leaned closer to him. "You're pretty darn good, aren't you?"

  "I do okay," he said, more than ready to stop talking about himself. He sat up. "What about you? When did you change?"

  Olivia grimaced. "I'm not always sure I did."

  Nick laughed. "Sure you did. You don't look a thing like you did when we were kids. For one thing, your bangs are even now."

  She groaned. "The truth is, I'm not that different. I hope I'm more mature, a little more careful about men, and more goal-oriented." She smiled. "But I still can't snap my fingers very well," she confessed.

  "After all that time I spent trying to teach you? I don't believe you. Prove it."

  She rubbed her fingers together and produced a very, very lame snap. "Told you so."

  "By the time you were a teenager I bet you snapped your fingers and the boys came running."

  "My father ran most of them off. He scared all my boyfriends. That will be one of the tests if I ever get engaged again. If I ever get really engaged," she emphasized, "the guy will need to be able to stand his ground with my dad."

  "Good luck," Nick said. "If I recall correctly, your dad had a tendency to yell."

  "And stomp," Olivia added. "His grown children secretly refer to him as the human earthquake. But speaking of snapping fingers, I think you're the one who snaps your fingers at women, then breaks all their hearts."

  "Not me," Nick said. "I don't date women who have hearts."

  "Why not?"

  "Messy."

  "And unsatisfying," Olivia said.

  Nick nearly denied it, then shrugged. "Perhaps."

  "You know what your problem is?" Olivia asked him.

  "No, but I bet you're going to tell me," Nick said, and figured he'd have a helluva time trying to stop her.

  "I think I know your secret. You act heartless and seem heartless. You can even look heartless." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "But you're not."

  Nick felt her whisper tighten his gut like a silk string. His heart was safe, he told himself, even as it pounded hard against his rib cage.

  * * *

  "I could've sworn you said something about this deal between us requiring limited social engagements," Olivia said as the valet at the Jefferson Hotel in downtown Richmond took Nick's car keys and a tip.

  "Comparatively speaking, this is limited," Nick said, ushering her into the grand hotel. "I receive an insane number of invitations. I'm not interested in attending these functions, but the partners of my law firm require me to attend some of them."

  "Do you want to be a partner someday?" she asked, distracted by the ornate decor of the hotel.

  "Yeah, for the money, the power, and the ability to torture some other new associate into attending these things," he said with a grin, then ran his gaze over her again. "I thought I told you to wear a potato sack to the rest of these parties."

  Olivia rubbed her hands over her velvet-covered arms. She'd chosen the black velvet dress for warmth and versatility. "A potato sack to the Jefferson? But Elvis slept here," she told him.

  He skimmed his fingers over her throat and the generous neckline that tended to fall off one shoulder without much urging. Olivia swallowed at his touch and his intent gaze. "Are you wearing a bra?" he asked.

  She felt her cheeks heat and cleared her throat. "Uh, no. I can't because of the neck—"

  "Do you know how many men," he asked as he ran his thumb over her collar bone, "you're going to drive crazy tonight?"

  Olivia's heart raced. If she was going to drive a man crazy, she would want it to be—

  She slammed the door on that thought and bit her lip.

  "Just don't collect any more business cards tonight. You'll stand out in that room."

  Olivia frowned. "What do you mean?"

  "If the women at this party were water, then they'd be bottled designer."

  Olivia struggled with a pinch of inadequacy. "And I'd be tap water."

  "No," Nick corrected her. "You're white lightning."

  Leading her down a lushly carpeted hallway, he opened the door to a room where the party was in full swing. "Curtain call," he said, then wrapped his hand around her waist and kissed her.

  It was a brief public claiming, but Olivia's brain shorted so fast she feared the people around her could smell her burning.

  Nick's assistant, Helen, joined them and gave Olivia a hug. "Shame on you for keeping your engagement a secret," she said. "I almost bought that story you told me about keeping your hormone switch in the off position, but not now." Helen smiled. "You're going to be so good for Nick. Have you set a date?"

  Olivia's throat tightened at the sincerity in Helen's voice. "A date?" she repeated weakly. "We haven't really—"

  Nick slid his arm around her. "Olivia won't even discuss it until she finishes her first semester," he said smoothly. "And what do you mean, she's going to be good for me? I'm going to be good for her."

  "Of course you will be," Helen said, "as soon as she makes you human." She waved a distinguished-looking gentleman to her side. "Paul Ginter, this is Olivia Polnecek, Nick's fiancée."

  Paul took her hand and lifted it to his lips. "What a pleasure," he said. "Exquisite. Perhaps you can use your influence on Helen to marry me."

  Hearing Helen's soft gasp, Olivia blinked at the combination of the man's courtly manners and the twinkle in his eyes. "I'm not sure I have any influence," she said, uncertainly looking at Helen.

  "Don't mind Paul. He gets this way every year. I think it's the mistletoe," Helen said.

  Paul sighed. "She only wants me as her love slave."

  Helen's color rose. "I think I'd like some champagne."

  Paul immediately responded. "Your wish is my command," he said and, after giving a brief nod to Olivia and Nick, he escorted her away.

  Olivia fanned herself. "Whew, he's pretty intense. What's their story?"

  "Helen is a widow and Paul has been courting her for five years."

  "Why doesn't she marry him?"

  Nick laced his fingers through hers and tugged her toward a table laden with appetizers. "Her first marriage was long, but not particularly happy, so she's—"

  "Chicken," Olivia concluded for him. "I understand being chicken, but that man—" She broke off and shook her head. "He'll be eighty years old and still making women sigh."

  Nick grabbed a glass of champagne off
a passing waiter's tray and offered it to Olivia. "You're going to have to explain this to me."

  "Well, when he looks at you, it's like he really sees you. Even that one moment, he took my hand, he gave me his undivided attention. Do you know how rare that is?"

  "No," Nick said, wearing a skeptical look.

  "I bet he's the kind of man who can make you feel as if you're the only woman in the room, maybe even the only woman in the world."

  "How?"

  Olivia shrugged. "I don't know. He looked into my eyes and took my hand and—"

  Nick lowered his head closer to hers and lifted her hand between them. His bright gaze captured and held hers. "And?"

  Her heart hammered against her rib cage and the rest of the room seemed to melt away. She felt a swirl of butterflies in her stomach. "And … and…" She swallowed as he lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed them. Holding her gaze, he ran his tongue over one finger.

  Olivia's breath stopped somewhere between her lungs and her throat.

  "And the randy goat said you were exquisite as he probably looked down your dress," Nick said.

  Stunned, Olivia jerked her hand away. "You're impossible!"

  Nick gave an infuriating chuckle and pulled her against him. "I'm not impossible. I'm just a jealous fiancé," he told her. "I want to be the man who makes you feel like you're the only woman in the room, in the world."

  His words pulled at a soft spot inside her, releasing secret longings best denied. He was joking, she told herself. Recovering, she batted her eyes. "I guess you're gonna have to try harder."

  A sexy, dangerous glint flashed in his eyes.

  "Okay," he said. "Just remember, you asked for it." And the wicked games began. In between introductions, appetizers, and champagne, Nick didn't stop touching her. Subtle, sensual, affectionate caresses. He rubbed the inside of her wrist with his thumb when he introduced her to a colleague. He offered her a sip of champagne from his glass, then ran his tongue over the spot where her mouth had been.

  He's not serious, she mentally chanted when her nerve endings stood on end and her skin felt warm and flushed. He's not serious, she repeated when she had to catch her breath at the way he made her feel. He's not serious, she told herself when her silly heart wanted to believe him.

  She received a desperately needed break when Nick was reluctantly dragged away by a former client. "I won't be long," he promised next to her ear.

  Olivia nodded. As soon as he left, she asked a waiter for a glass of ice water. Her mind was muddy, and if she had ever needed to be thinking straight, it was tonight. The waiter returned with her water and she took several swallows.

  After a moment Olivia felt the itchy sensation of being watched. She glanced around her and encountered the gaze of an astonishingly attractive blond woman standing with several other people. Olivia smiled. The pretty blonde's mouth lifted in response.

  "Some party," Olivia said.

  "Indeed. I don't believe we've met. I'm Kendra Ross-Wilder. And you are?" she prompted.

  "Olivia Polnecek."

  "What a unique name," Kendra said, her tone neutral, then she introduced the four other people in her group. "I believe I saw you with Nick Nolan," she ventured.

  Immediately reminded of her role, Olivia nodded and resisted the urge to cross her fingers. "Yes, I'm his fiancée." For a few more weeks. "Do you know him?"

  "Oh, definitely," Kendra said with a too friendly smile, then shook her head. "I always thought it was such a waste that he chose civil law. He was incredibly bright and talented."

  Olivia felt a twinge of irritation. "Nick is still incredibly bright and talented. He does an excellent job for his clients."

  Kendra sighed. "But he could have gone far in politics."

  Olivia didn't like the woman's deprecating tone. "Are you sure we're talking about the same Nick Nolan?" Olivia asked, and managed a laugh. "He would be bored out of his mind in politics."

  The woman beside Kendra gave a soft gasp and Kendra's mouth tightened. "Of course I know Nick. We were quite close."

  Olivia got the message immediately. Kendra and Nick had been lovers. She wondered if this was another one of the women with no heart. "Then you must know how passionate he is about his work."

  Kendra gave a deliberate shrug. "It never made sense to me. He's essentially become an ambulance chaser."

  Olivia felt one of her corks pop. Anger burned inside her. "Nick Nolan is not an ambulance chaser. If you met the scarred teenage girl he's representing, or any of his other clients, then you wouldn't say such a thing. He's the last hope for people who have been screwed by the judicial system. He makes it right when things have gone very, very wrong."

  Despite the scrutiny from the growing crowd, Olivia refused to back down. Stiffening her spine, she stared straight into Kendra's eyes.

  * * *

  "Nick," Helen said to him as he tried to disengage himself from the charity organizer hostess of the party. "You may want to check on Olivia."

  Hearing Olivia's name and the note of warning in Helen's voice, he cut off the conversation. "Great party, Madeline. Nobody does it better. Thank you for including us tonight. I'll let you get back to your other guests," he said, and immediately scanned the room for a Gypsy dressed in black velvet.

  "What's wrong?" he asked Helen after they moved a few steps away.

  "She met Kendra Ross-Wilder."

  Nick swore. Kendra was the stuffiest, snootiest witch on two feet that he'd ever had the misfortune to meet. Worse yet, he'd been so distracted by her breathtaking blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty he hadn't seen her diamond-hard heart. He got a sick sensation in his gut at the image of Olivia meeting Kendra. Kendra would rip her to shreds.

  "How bad was it?" he asked, walking faster.

  "After Olivia tore a strip off her for calling you an ambulance chaser?" Helen asked, nearly causing Nick to stumble.

  He stopped. "Olivia did what!"

  "From what I heard, Olivia put Kendra in her place," Helen said, an approving expression on her face. "Details get sketchy after that, but I heard the words 'cat fight' being whispered," she said with a slight wince. "Last I heard, Olivia was walking toward the coatroom."

  "She didn't wear a coat," Nick muttered, and headed in the same direction. Down the hall and around the corner, he swiftly strode. He stepped through the doorway, stopped, and listened to the sound of footsteps in the back of the coatroom. He quietly closed the door behind him.

  Moving to the back, he found her pacing up and down the last row of coats. Her cheeks colored from anger, her eyes shooting sparks, her fists stiffly at her sides, she reminded him of a female warrior. She had gone to battle for him, he thought, and felt a surge of possessiveness. He was accustomed to fighting his own battles, as well as other people's battles. He didn't need anyone taking up for him.

  So why did it feel damn good?

  "I understand you defended me to the Wicked Witch of Richmond," Nick said.

  Olivia jerked her head up to meet his gaze with distress in her eyes. "I may very well have ruined your chances for pursuing political office."

  Nick couldn't help roaring with laughter. "Politics?" he echoed. "Me?" He chuckled again and walked toward her, wanting to kiss the wariness from her face. "If you've successfully managed to eliminate the requests I receive to run for office, the only thing I can say is thank you."

  He searched her gaze. "So why are you hiding in the coatroom?"

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  « ^ »

  Olivia's eyes shot off so much emotional wattage at the moment she should have worn a warning sign around her neck.

  Clearly still volatile, she held up her hands when Nick moved closer. "I'm hiding in the coatroom because if I stayed out there any longer, I might need to hire you to defend me in court. I didn't think it would be a good idea to go outside. If I went to the powder room, I might run into—" her nostrils flared as she took a quick breath "—Kendra. I decided she wasn't likely
to spend much time in here.

  "She's beautiful," Olivia admitted as much to herself as to him, starting to pace again. "But smug. I've always had a hard time with smug people. The clincher was when she bad-mouthed you and your career. I wanted to dump a tray of meatballs on her." She finally looked up at Nick. "I know she's beautiful, but how could you get involved with someone like that?"

  Nick shook his head. He understood why Olivia would not understand. Olivia and Kendra didn't originate from the same planet, let alone the same species. "It didn't last long. She acted nice in the beginning. As soon as I found out she was determined to direct my career path, I bailed. She ended up marrying the son of a congressman. You can thank Kendra for shaping most of my attitudes toward romance. Now I try not to stand too close to her since I'm betting a house is going to fall on her one of these days. Just like the Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard of Oz."

  Her lips twitched slightly. "You call her the Wicked Witch of Richmond?"

  He shrugged, relaxing at the return of her humor. "That's the nice description."

  Her smile faded. "Were you in love with her?"

  Nick sighed. His feelings for Kendra were distant and trivial to him now. "I was briefly in lust with her, but it's hard to stay in lust with a woman when you don't really like her." He paused for a moment while a strange realization sank in. "Unlike my feelings for you," he said.

  Olivia's eyes widened. "What?"

  "I'm in lust with you and I like you at the same time. Don't look surprised. You know I want to make love to you," he said when she appeared as if she might hyperventilate. "And you want me, too."

  Olivia opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She closed it and tried again. "I—I— That might be true, but—"

  "I still can't believe you cut Kendra off at the knees for me."

  Olivia winced. "Well, I'm not sure I cut her off at the knees, and she got a few shots in herself at the end, so…"

  "What shots?" Nick demanded, feeling his sense of humor wane.

  "She just asked me what I do for a living and made a couple of vaguely deprecating remarks," Olivia said, not quite meeting his gaze. "I think it was mostly for the benefit of the crowd around her. I made the last statement and left."