His Marriage Bonus

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His Marriage Bonus Page 7

by Cathy Gillen Thacker


  “Mind if I tag along?” Mitch asked, striding ahead to open the door for Lauren. He didn’t know if his mother was aware Tom had run off to parts unknown for a few days. But if she wasn’t, he figured he should be the one to tell her.

  “Not at all,” Lauren said. “But we’ll need to take separate cars.”

  “No problem,” Mitch said.

  WHEN THEY ARRIVED at the downtown restaurant, Grace was beautifully dressed, but her eyes were puffy and she didn’t look as if she’d had much sleep. Mitch’s worry about his mother instantly increased. He kissed her cheek and helped her with a chair.

  “This is a surprise.” Grace beamed up at Mitch, looking as happy as always to be able to spend time with one of her children.

  “I can’t stay long,” Mitch qualified as he seated himself between Lauren and his mother. With his father out of town he’d have double the workload. “But I wanted to hear all about your plans,” Mitch told his mother seriously. “I didn’t realize you were looking to buy a place of your own quite so soon.”

  Grace took a delicate sip of her tea. “I thought I might as well get on with it. I’ve already instructed my attorney in New York City to put my apartment there up for sale.”

  Mitch stirred sugar into his coffee. “You don’t want to go back?”

  “No. I’m tired of living away from my family, Mitch. My children are all settled in Charleston, so this is where I want to be, too.”

  Mitch believed that. He also sensed there was more. “Is it hard for you, living in the same house with Dad?”

  Grace arranged the bangs of her short blond hair with her fingertips. “He’s been very accommodating about everything.”

  Mitch knew an evasion when he heard one. He also recognized trouble brewing when he saw it. He studied his mother intently. “The two of you didn’t have an argument, did you?”

  Grace swallowed abruptly, even as she held his eyes. “Why would you think that?”

  Aware Lauren was watching the byplay with interest, Mitch shrugged and continued his conversation with his mother. “What does Dad think of you buying your own place?”

  Grace leaned back as the waiter brought their breakfasts, then cut into her fruit with more than usual enthusiasm. “First of all, I don’t need his permission or approval, Mitch. We’re divorced. Second, I haven’t had a chance to tell him.”

  Mitch added salt to his eggs. “You didn’t see him last night?”

  Grace shook her head. “He wasn’t there when I got home.”

  “And this morning?” Mitch pressed.

  Grace lifted her shoulders in an indolent shrug. “He wasn’t there when I went down for breakfast. Theresa said she hadn’t seen him since early last evening.”

  At that revelation, Mitch swore silently to himself. He had hoped his father would have talked about the reasons for his disappearing act with his mother instead of leaving her as perplexed and puzzled as everyone else, save maybe Jack Granger.

  Grace looked at Mitch steadily. “You know something about what your father’s up to, don’t you? And you’re trying to tell me.”

  Mitch slanted a look at Lauren before he answered. Like him, Lauren seemed concerned about his mother. Finally, Mitch turned back to Grace and reluctantly revealed what he knew. “Jack Granger said he got an e-mail from Dad. Dad’s decided to take a few days off. I’m not sure where.”

  “I think I have an idea,” Grace muttered.

  Mitch studied the veiled anger and jealousy on Grace’s face. “There’s no other woman, Mom.”

  “You can’t possibly know that,” Grace retorted stiffly.

  What could Mitch say to that? His mother was right. His father was as capable as any man of having a love affair.

  Giving Mitch a look that stated plainly that this part of the conversation was over, Grace looked at Lauren. “Now, about these houses you want to show me this morning. Where do you suggest we begin?”

  MITCH MET LAUREN at her home promptly at six, as per the terms of their agreement with her father. The fund-raiser they were scheduled to attend at a downtown hotel wasn’t scheduled to start for another hour and a half. Mitch had gone home to shower and shave, prior to their date, but Lauren was still in the business clothes she’d had on earlier in the day. “So how did it go with my mother?” Mitch asked as a visibly distracted Lauren motioned for him to follow and then led the way up the wide staircase of her elegantly appointed home, to the study on the second floor.

  “It was a typical first attempt looking for the perfect house to settle in, when money and time are no object.” Lauren moved a large stack of several heavy real estate books from the damask sofa so he could sit down.

  Trying not to get too caught in the view of Lauren’s legs—which looked sensational in the translucent black stockings she wore—Mitch loosened his tie, sat back against the cushions and asked, “What’s she looking for?”

  “She’s not sure—which is part of the dilemma.” Lauren plucked the pages coming out of her printer and glanced through them thoughtfully. “A house in the historic district would be more protected from hurricanes, but a house on the beach also holds a lot of appeal for her. She’s going to take her time and study the listings I gave her and we’re going to go out again tomorrow morning and view the properties she wants to see. And if none of those work for her, I’m preparing another batch, too. I’m confident we’ll eventually hit on what she wants.” Lauren paused to study the guarded expression on Mitch’s face. “You’re not very happy about what she’s doing, are you?” she guessed softly.

  Mitch shrugged, knowing this was too important a subject to pretend otherwise. “I admit, I’d like to see my mother and father living under the same roof a little longer.”

  “Does she usually stay with your dad when she’s in Charleston?” She slanted him an interested glance that was sexy as all get-out. Lauren sat back down in front of the computer and scrolled through other properties, printing out specs on some, bypassing others.

  Trying to keep his mind on the conversation at hand instead of where he’d like the evening with Lauren to lead—the bedroom down the hall—Mitch sat back and explained, “Initially, after the divorce, my mom tried staying in a hotel when she came back to Charleston on holiday. But that quickly became a problem because she was constantly being recognized and approached by fans of the morning show, which makes it hard for her to have any privacy or get any rest. So Dad suggested that she stay at the house when she comes to see us, and Dad goes to a hotel. He was going to do that this time but she convinced him it would be more practical if the two of them both stayed in the mansion this time, since she hasn’t yet figured out where she is going to live or what she is going to do next.”

  “That’s very modern of them.” Lauren switched off her computer and printer, stood. “I’ve dealt with a lot of divorced couples in my line of business—most of them aren’t that civil or understanding of each other’s situations.”

  Mitch nodded, wondering how it was Lauren could still look and smell so darn good after what had to have been a very full workday. “The problem is they’re old-fashioned people and there’s still some chemistry between them. It makes it hard for them to be under the same roof and not be together.”

  She walked over to the floor-to-ceiling cabinets and plucked out a folder emblazoned with the name of her real estate firm. She slanted him an intrigued glance as she slid the papers she’d just printed out, into the folder. “You think the two of them would rather be sharing the same bedroom?”

  Mitch nodded, wondering even as he did why it was that he could talk to Lauren so easily. “Of course, whether or not that’s ever going to happen again remains to be seen,” he said.

  “What about you and your ex-wife?” Lauren took the folder back and laid it, front and center, on her desk. She came around to stand before him, bracing her hands on either side of her. “Do you ever see her?”

  Where had that question come from? Mitch wondered, even as he noted the way h
er trim black skirt pulled snugly across her abdomen, hips and thighs. “No,” Mitch replied, shifting his gaze back to Lauren’s face. “Do you?”

  “Sometimes,” Lauren replied with an easygoing shrug. “Jeannette Wycliffe is the best events planner in Charleston. She’s also doing my father’s black-tie birthday party later this week, which, I guess, because of the terms of our agreement with him, you are going to have to attend as my date.”

  Well, one mystery solved, Mitch thought with relief. Maybe the rest of the phone calls would have equally innocent explanations. At least Mitch hoped that was the case, because he was beginning to see he could be seriously interested in a woman like Lauren, which was a possibility he hadn’t really been open to before they had gotten acquainted and started dating. “When is the party?” Mitch asked.

  Looking distracted, Lauren shrugged out of her tailored black blazer and toed off her low-heeled black pumps. “Friday evening, at the Summerwinds Hotel downtown.”

  Dry-mouthed, Mitch watched her unbutton her red blouse and pull the hem of her shirt out of the waistband of her black skirt. As she slipped off her blouse and revealed a formfitting opaque spaghetti-strap camisole beneath, he wondered just how far she was going to go with this unexpected disrobing. With effort, he returned his gaze to her face. Finding himself too restless to sit, he rolled to his feet and began to pace. “How many people are going to be there?” he said.

  “Close to five hundred.”

  Mitch shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “That’s a pretty big birthday party.”

  Lauren shrugged and continued talking to Mitch as she crossed the hall in her stocking feet to her bedroom. “For him, it’s just another opportunity to do business.”

  Mitch followed her as far as the doorway to the bedroom.

  He noted she didn’t look particularly happy about that as she rummaged through her wardrobe, until she found what she was looking for—a sheer black chiffon blouse with some sort of embroidery across the hem, wristbands and collar.

  “As much as I’m loath to admit it—” Lauren sighed, shooting Mitch another somewhat distracted glance as she slipped the blouse off the padded-satin hanger “—my father never does anything without it somehow being related to furthering his own business goals or agenda.”

  Mitch continued to lounge in her bedroom doorway. He watched in complete fascination as Lauren slipped the blouse over her opaque black tank top, instantly transforming the outfit from business attire to evening wear. He wondered if she had any idea how she was inflaming his desire with the ongoing transformation that was so inherently innocent and matter-of-fact, and yet at the same time so damn seductive it would have done justice to Mata Hari. Mitch swallowed around the tightness in his throat.

  “And your father’s agenda is what right now?” Mitch asked, deciding this sleuthing behind the scenes could work both ways.

  Lauren sorted through her earrings, finally selecting a pair of diamond-studded gold hoops and a matching choker from the velvet-lined jewelry case on her bureau. “I have to say that right now his top priority is probably to get me married advantageously, in a way that also very much profits his business.”

  Payton Heyward had said the same.

  But the question remained—why did Payton want the merger now? What was driving his urgency behind the scenes? Because Mitch had come to agree with his father on one thing—there was something else going on in the background that Payton wanted kept from Mitch and everyone else. The only question was—was Lauren in on the secret, or out of the loop?

  “Has your father always wanted you to marry someone in the shipping industry?” Mitch asked casually, watching as Lauren took off the small onyx studs in her ears and slipped in the hoops.

  “No.” Lauren met Mitch’s eyes and continued with a candor that caught Mitch unawares—as much as her day-to-evening transformation had. “He wanted me to marry someone wealthy, of course. He felt it was the only way I’d know for certain I was being married for me and not my money.” Lauren paused as she wrestled with the back clasp of her necklace. “I’m not sure that logic follows, though.”

  Mitch stepped in to help Lauren with the necklace. “Why not?” he asked as she held her hair off her nape and his fingertips brushed the silky soft skin beneath.

  “Because I think people who’ve grown up having money are more frantic about the idea of losing it,” Lauren said unhappily.

  Was that what was going on with her father? Mitch wondered as he stepped back once again and watched Lauren run a brush through her hair, then twist the glossy length of it up onto the back of her head and hold it in place with a pretty clip.

  Was that the reason Payton Heyward was suddenly so gung ho about the idea of a Deveraux-Heyward merger and marriage? Mitch wondered. Because Payton had overextended his own finances with the purchase of those two new containers ships and was in a panic about what to do about it?

  “People get used to a certain lifestyle. They don’t want to give that up for something less,” Lauren said as she went to the shoe rack in her closet.

  “So they’ll do anything to maintain their lifestyle,” Mitch guessed, still enjoying the view a lot more than he knew he should. Trying hard not to notice how very pretty she looked, or how seductive and pleasurable it was watching her get geared up for their evening ahead, he braced a shoulder against the portal and crossed his arms in front of him.

  “Like marry someone they don’t really love,” Mitch continued.

  Lauren shook her head, agreeing. “Or sell a historic home that has been in their family for generations just to get a quick million or two or three to fritter away. Of course, even worse than that, is seeing a person destroy a beautiful home with sheer neglect,” Lauren stated grimly as she braced herself against the closet frame and slipped on a pair of black evening sandals.

  “Would you do it?” Mitch asked casually, deciding to use her distraction to his advantage.

  “What?” Lauren went into the bathroom and grabbed her toothbrush.

  “Marry for money.” Mitch moved so he could still see her.

  Lauren turned and made a face at him. “I thought I’d made my feelings for that clear the day we agreed to this farce of a courtship.” Lauren uncapped the toothpaste and layered it on her brush.

  “You could have just been playing hard to get—to raise my interest.”

  Lauren rolled her eyes, then brushed, rinsed and spit. “Is that what it would take to get you interested?” she asked, blotting her lips with a towel.

  Mitch shrugged, taking the banter to an even more disarming level. “It’s a well-known fact in Charleston that I like a challenge.” Was that what she was trying to do—play hard to get? Because if so, Mitch was loath to admit, it was working. He was interested. Very interested.

  “It’s also well known that you don’t like lost causes. I’m a lost cause, Mitch.” Lauren put a bottle of mouth-wash to her lips, swished some around and spit again. Her expression turning pensive, she blotted her lips on a pale pink hand towel and reached for a lipstick on the bathroom counter. She turned her complete attention to her reflection. “I don’t know what’s gotten into my father lately. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m closing in on thirty and he’s going to be fifty-four later this week. But I’m hoping when he sees that you and I don’t work out, he’ll just get forget this idea about arranging a marriage between the two of us and concentrate on the merger.”

  As Mitch watched her apply her lipstick with easy, practiced strokes, he told himself he was not emotionally involved enough to be disappointed about her lack of interest in the situation. “And you wouldn’t mind that?” Mitch ascertained carefully.

  She gave him a strange look, and demanded, innocently enough, “Why should it matter to me whether you two merge businesses or not? I’m not involved in that in any way.”

  Mitch shrugged. “You’d stand to benefit or lose financially, depending on the outcome.”

  Lauren sighed and recapped
her lipstick with a snap.

  When she turned back to him, Mitch asked, “Why are you giving me that look?”

  Lauren gave him a look of choirgirl innocence as she swept past him once again. “What look?”

  As if she didn’t know, Mitch thought, frustrated she would select this moment to clam up. “The one that says you’re disappointed in me,” he explained. When it was possible it should be the other way around.

  She shrugged, abruptly looking as wary of him as he felt of her. “I’m just trying to figure out what kind of man you are.”

  “A talented businessman.” Mitch smiled.

  “Besides that,” Lauren qualified.

  Mitch stared at her in confusion as she spritzed on some perfume. He’d thought if anyone could understand the importance of making something of yourself instead of resting on the family laurels and living off a trust account, it would have been a successful, career-oriented heiress like Lauren. In fact, he was willing to bet if asked to define herself, she would say that she was one of the city’s premier real estate brokers.

  “What else is there?” he asked, wondering what it was exactly that Lauren wanted from him—aside from possibly bailing her father out of whatever financial or business trouble Payton Heyward had gotten himself in.

  Lauren rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Exactly.” She sighed.

  LEAVE IT TO HER, Lauren thought as she led the way back downstairs, to be looking for a Renaissance man where none was to be found. Still, she wanted to know more about Mitch. Even if he was loath to tell her. “Pretend you’re writing an ad about yourself for the personal section of the newspaper.” She gathered up her purse and stepped out onto the front porch. “What would it say?”

  “I have no idea,” Mitch replied dryly as she turned around and locked up behind them. “Since I neither find nor advertise for dates that way.” One hand braced on the brick just above her head, his body lightly, protectively caging hers, he peered down at her mischievously in the muted evening light. “Do you?”

 

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