His Marriage Bonus

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  The faintly disapproving expression on her dad’s face reminded Lauren of other times, when Payton’d been trying to protect her from getting involved with the wrong man. And, as it turned out, much to her chagrin, rightly so. “I thought this was what you wanted, for the two of us to get close,” Lauren persisted.

  “It is.” Payton rubbed the back of his wrist, as if it was bothering him. “But I also want you to have a wedding ring on your finger. Having the two of you act like platonic, rather than romantic, friends will not accomplish that.”

  Lauren admitted she wouldn’t mind marrying Mitch if Mitch were wildly in love with her, but he wasn’t. Hence, she couldn’t even consider it, because no matter how physically and emotionally attracted she was to Mitch, she didn’t want a relationship that was based on a mutually profitable business deal.

  “But an arranged marriage is not what I want, Dad,” she said quietly, hoping that when the week ended, and she and Mitch chose not to get married, that her father would accept their decision and let it go, and not dangle any more prizes in front of them.

  “You’ve still got four more dates to go.” Payton shrugged, a little stiffly, and sat back in his chair. Abruptly, he looked optimistic again. “Maybe you’ll change your mind by the end of the week.”

  And maybe, Lauren thought, as charming and fun as Mitch could be when he wanted to be, she wouldn’t. Because the last thing she wanted was to marry a man who—like her father—was so involved with his business dealings that he would actually marry a woman in order to cinch a deal.

  Chapter Ten

  Mitch spent the morning meeting with Internet consultants, and working on a proposal for an e-commerce site. At noon, another client not under written contract, bailed in favor of doing business with an Internet auction site. Mitch scrambled to fill the space on their container ship headed for Jacksonville, and eventually got some cargo on there, but it was at a lower rate than the initial client would have paid, and it narrowed their already slim profit margins for the month.

  Frustrated, Mitch went down the hall to Jack Granger’s office. “We can’t keep doing this,” Mitch told Jack.

  “For what it’s worth, I agree with you,” Jack said as he hit the screen saver button on his computer and a picture of a snowy mountain peak popped up on the monitor. “The sooner Deveraux Shipping enters the e-commerce shipping market, the better.” Jack closed the file on his desk, too, and rested his clasped hands on top of it. “The problem is, I’m not the one making the decision. Your father is, and he thinks we can’t afford it.”

  “We could if we start small,” Mitch said. And he’d put together a proposal demonstrating how to accomplish just that. Now all he had to do was get Tom to listen and agree to it. “Have you heard from my father yet?” Mitch asked. His own e-mail to Tom was still unanswered.

  Jack shook his head, looking equally disturbed by Tom Deveraux’s unusual disappearance. “I’m sure he’ll check in soon, though,” he said confidently.

  Mitch hoped so. This was the third day in a row Tom had failed to show up for work at the Deveraux Shipping Company offices. “If you hear from him, please ask him to call me on my cell phone,” Mitch told Jack. He wanted to set up a time to talk to Tom about his e-business proposal, and he wanted to tell him that Grace had moved out—two things that were best done in person, or at the very least, during a phone conversation.

  “Will do,” Jack promised easily, making a note on the pad in front of him.

  Mitch checked his watch. It was nearly five-thirty. Traffic would be brutal this time of day. “I better get going if I want to make my date. I don’t want to be late.”

  “Lauren Heyward again?”

  Mitch nodded.

  Jack shook his head wistfully. He looked at Mitch as if he had never seen such a romantic fool. “You must really like her to be going against your father’s wishes this way.”

  That was the problem. Mitch did really like Lauren, business deal aside. As for whether she was somehow involved in any counteraction or deal stealing against their company, that Mitch couldn’t say. He’d checked out the list of incoming calls on her cell phone last night, but the call from Lance had registered “private” on the caller ID history. Which meant he had no phone number to check out, and no last name. The “Lance” Lauren had been swearing to secrecy last night could have been anyone. Furthermore, Mitch ruminated, just because Lance was doing something to help Lauren and her father’s business, it didn’t necessarily mean he was also hurting Mitch or his firm. What Lance was doing could have had nothing to do with Mitch and the Deveraux Shipping Company whatsoever. Lauren could be completely innocent of any industrial espionage.

  Jack regarded Mitch respectfully, his own reservations about the situation still evident. “But, on the other hand,” Jack said, “if your relationship with her leads to a better working relationship between our two shipping companies, or even the merger you’ve been wanting, Deveraux and Heyward shipping companies would both benefit because they’d be better able to fend off the increasing competition from the Internet auction sites.”

  Mitch agreed. The only problem was that he’d begun to lose his enthusiasm for bringing about such a coup. It wasn’t that they didn’t need the merger. With competition stiffening daily, both companies needed to combine forces and take up a bigger share of the market, more than ever. Mitch’s real regret centered around Lauren. He was pretty sure she would see the merger as proof positive that all he had ever really been interested in was the joining of the two companies. And while that had been true in the beginning, when her father had first pitched his proposal to them, it was no longer the case. Now Mitch was genuinely interested in Lauren. To the point he wished he had never allowed himself to be talked into the agreement with her father. Because now, even if everything else worked out, she was never going to believe he was interested in Lauren, for Lauren, and not for some business deal….

  LAUREN MET MITCH at the door of 10 Gathering Street. Although they were supposed to go out to dinner shortly at Magnolia’s restaurant downtown, she was still in rumpled khaki slacks, a much laundered denim work shirt and paint-splattered sneakers. She’d swept her golden-brown hair onto the back of her head and secured the tousled length of it in a tortoiseshell clip. Her cheeks were tinged with pink, her dark brown eyes shimmering with excitement. She looked so pretty and sexy, in fact, it was all Mitch could do not to sweep her into his arms the moment he crossed the threshold and take her straight upstairs for the tenderest, most intimate lovemaking session of her life.

  Oblivious to the lusty direction of his thoughts, Lauren grabbed his hand and tugged him along beside her as she hurried him through the downstairs hall. “Oh, Mitch!” she enthused breathlessly, looking every bit as glad to see him as he was to see her. “I can’t wait to show you what I just found! You’re never going to believe what I just discovered!”

  Given how happy and excited she looked, Mitch could think of only one thing. “Buried treasure?” This was, after all, a very old house that had once been inhabited by some very wealthy Charlestonians.

  “Even better.” She tightened her grip on his palm, her hand feeling warm, soft and capable in his as she took him to the first-floor library, chattering excitedly all the while. “I was checking out some of the bookcases, you know, dusting them, and then suddenly, I felt something funny—a little piece of wood sticking out of one of them. I thought it was just a piece of scrap wood or something that had gotten stuck in there when they were constructing it, so I pulled on it a little and voila! The door started to open.” Lauren flashed Mitch a dazzling smile and paused to demonstrate.

  Right on cue, the bookcase swung open, revealing a twelve-foot-square room hidden behind the library. It had been decorated in a very feminine manner. There was a pale pink-colored Aubusson rug covering the floor, a burgundy-silk chaise and delicate rose-patterned wallpaper on the windowless walls. Books of love poems were scattered around the room. A big old-fashioned steamer trunk sa
t in one corner. Next to it was the outline of another door, and a lever next to it. It looked like a love nest or trysting place from another era.

  “Where does that lead?” Mitch asked, inclining his head at the door.

  “I don’t know.” Lauren bit her lip and looked perplexed. “I hadn’t gotten that far— I just found this room a few minutes ago.”

  Intrigued, Mitch continued to look around. His gaze fell on an exquisite crystal vase filled with red, white and pink roses that were so fresh the petals were just beginning to open up. “Nice flowers,” he murmured, taking in the subtle feminine fragrance.

  “They aren’t mine!” Lauren said. “And I didn’t dust in here, either.”

  Mitch turned to Lauren in surprise. “You think the previous owners or Realtors who sold the place to your father put them in here?”

  Lauren shrugged. “I think it’s highly unlikely. I mean, they didn’t bother to dust or clean up the rest of the house. Why would they clean up this little room? Besides, I’m not sure they knew about it. I called my father and asked him if they had any secret rooms here, and he said ‘Not that he knew of.’”

  Mitch mulled that over. It was possible this was just a fluke. It was also possible it was a device meant to distract him from company business. Mitch tested the chaise and found it very comfortable indeed. Folding his hands behind his head, Mitch looked up at Lauren and asked, “Did you tell your father what you’d found?”

  “Not yet. I wanted to show you first.”

  Mitch tried not to attach any significance to her revelation. It wasn’t easy. Since the romantic, hopeful part of him wanted to do just that.

  “Mitch—” Lauren sat down next to Mitch on the chaise “—I think someone may have been using this room to, uh, well, rendezvous with someone else.”

  Mitch lifted his eyebrow in speculation. With Lauren leaning over him like this, her thigh brushing his, that was certainly his inclination. “You mean an illicit affair?”

  Lauren’s smile widened merrily as she tried to figure it out. “Why else would you meet in a windowless room in the middle of a deserted mansion?”

  Good point. Mitch decided he better get up if he didn’t want to end up making love to Lauren here and now. He rose, electing to satisfy his curiosity instead. “Let’s see where this other door leads.”

  “Okay.” Lauren moved closer to him, inundating him with her signature fragrance. Mitch pulled the lever. The door swung open onto a narrow hall with no lighting. “I always wanted to be Nancy Drew,” Lauren murmured.

  Maybe it was because she was such a take-charge woman, but Mitch had no problem imagining Lauren hot on the trail of some mysterious happening. “And I had a thing for the Hardy boys. Do you have a flashlight?”

  Lauren shook her head.

  “I’ve got one in the glove compartment of my car. Wait here. I’ll go get it.” When he came back, Lauren was pacing the small room.

  “Let’s go,” Lauren said impatiently. She latched on to his sleeve. “You lead the way.”

  “So much for playing a girl detective,” Mitch said dryly as they entered the narrow brick passageway with the wooden floor. He would have expected it to smell dank and stale, but instead it smelled like fresh air and spring flowers.

  “There are some jobs that are just meant for men. This is one of them. And as I recall—” Lauren paused to shoot him a teasing glance “—the Hardy boys were quite fearless.”

  “Sure, for characters in a book,” Mitch said, liking the sensation of having her pressed so close to his side. “I doubt they would have gotten into some of those scrapes in real life. If they’d had a lick of sense they would have just called the cops first and solved the mystery later.”

  “If they had,” Lauren returned, studying the long and winding passageway in front of them, “the books wouldn’t have been nearly as exciting.”

  “You read them?” Mitch wrapped an arm around Lauren’s shoulders as they rounded yet another corner.

  “The complete sets of both,” Lauren confirmed, pressing herself companionably against his side. “I wanted a boyfriend just like Frank.”

  Aware Lauren was trembling slightly, whether from the chill of the passageway or the uncertainty, he didn’t know, Mitch slanted Lauren an amused glance. “Why Frank and not Joe?” he probed.

  Lauren had to think about that for a second. “Frank was older, more mature, less impetuous,” she said finally, wrapping her arm around his waist. “He was also tall and handsome, and he had dark hair.”

  Simultaneously, Mitch realized Lauren could have been describing him. As he looked at her in a way that made Lauren acutely aware of what she had just said, she turned her glance back to the passageway ahead and steadfastly avoided Mitch’s eyes. “Did you read Nancy Drew?” she asked cheerfully.

  “No, but Amy did, so I heard all about her adventures. I’ve got to say, she sounded like quite a babe.”

  Lauren smiled sweetly, but still didn’t look at him. “I identified with her a lot,” she admitted candidly.

  “Maybe because you’re a babe,” Mitch said. He grinned when he saw her look away. No doubt about it. She was as aware of him as he was of her.

  “How much farther, do you think?” Lauren asked in an oddly muffled voice.

  “Not much farther,” Mitch said confidently, figuring with the distance and direction they had gone, they had to be near the perimeter of the mansion. Six steps later, he reached another dead end. And another hidden door, with a hidden lever. Mitch pushed the door open. And the two of them found themselves standing in the neglected flower gardens just outside the ivy-covered back wall of the mansion.

  “WOW,” Lauren said, feeling more worked up about a property than she had in a long time. “In three and a half days and four more dates, I’m going to own a home with a hidden room and a secret passageway.” This was so great.

  “I wouldn’t get too excited about that just yet,” Mitch warned with a frown as she shut off his flashlight.

  Lauren tensed in irritation. “Why not?” Lauren turned to him and noticed how handsome he looked in his charcoal-gray polo shirt and slacks. He had obviously shaved before coming over, too. The spicy, sandalwood fragrance of his after-shave clung to his skin.

  Oblivious to the libidinous nature of her thoughts, Mitch tapped the flashlight against his side. “Because someone has obviously been using that room, and sneaking in and out of here at night.”

  “Who?” Lauren’s glance trailed idly down his braced thigh before returning to his face.

  “Beats me.” Mitch shrugged his broad shoulders. “Maybe there’s a clue in the room. In the meantime—” he stepped back inside the corridor and tapped the walls “—maybe you should consider having this passageway walled off.”

  After all the romance that had happened there? Lauren thought. He had to be kidding. Only he wasn’t.

  She looked at him firmly. “Not a chance! That would be like destroying history.”

  “Better safe than sorry,” Mitch said as he closed the outside door and led the way back. “And until you know who is using that room and why—”

  Okay, so maybe he had a point, Lauren conceded reluctantly. Maybe she did need to be a tiny bit sensible about this. Already thinking, Lauren dashed on ahead of Mitch. “Maybe there’s a clue in the steamer trunk or some of those books.” She rushed back into the room and opened the lid of the trunk. Inside it were several beautiful ball gowns from many years ago. Satin dancing shoes. Pressed flowers. And a packet of ribbon-wrapped letters, yellowed with age. Lauren paused. “I feel funny about reading this.”

  Mitch shot her an empathetic look that let her know he wasn’t as unromantic as she’d first thought, then said quietly, “How else are you going to know who they belonged to or who should have them now?”

  “You’re right,” Lauren agreed with relief. She carried the letters over to the chaise and sat down in the middle of it. “These letters obviously should be with someone. I’ve got to find out wh
om.”

  Gently, Lauren worked open the first envelope, and because she knew Mitch was every bit as curious as she, began to read the first aloud to him:

  Dearest Eleanor,

  I used to look forward to the days I spent at the helm of my ship, sailing from port to port. No more. Now all I want is to be back in Charleston with you. But even that is not as free of difficulty as I would wish for us. I had hoped by now that Dolly would have accepted that I do not love her, and therefore, cannot marry her. But she insists on holding me to my promise. And swears she will put a hex on us for all eternity if I continue with my plans to one day tell everyone of my love for you. I do not believe such nonsense. And you should not either, my love. For we will be together one day soon. That, I promise you. In the meantime, I will leave Boston in another few days. As soon as we get the ship loaded again and be home again before you know it.

  All my love,

  Douglas

  Lauren looked up, shocked. “This letter is about the curse put on your family,” Lauren said.

  Mitch groaned as he sank down on the chaise beside her. “Not you, too. I am so tired of hearing about that.”

  Lauren swiveled toward Mitch. They were so close her bent knee brushed his thigh. She studied the skeptical expression on his face. “I take it that means you don’t believe in the legend?” she guessed.

  Mitch’s dark eyebrows lowered like thunderclouds over his eyes. “The curse is a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you believe there is no way you can live happily ever after with the love of your life, then you won’t be able to do it.”

  Deciding to play devil’s advocate for the heck of it, Lauren cited a little history. “Well, so far, your aunt Winnifred was widowed shortly after she married her husband. Your parents divorced. So did you.”