The Twenty-Four-Hour Bride

by Day Leclaire

  Planting his hands on the desktop, he leaned across it. “Wrong. It’s Peter’s name my child will bear. And if you think for one minute I’m going to allow that to happen, you’re dead wrong.”

  She hadn’t thought of that. She honestly hadn’t. “We can legally change it.”

  “That won’t be necessary. When he comes into this world he’ll already bear my name.”

  “She.”

  “What?”

  “The baby. It could be a she.”

  “Fine with me. She, he and all the ones that follow will be Colters. I don’t intend to negotiate on this point.”

  All the ones that follow? She swallowed. No. No way.

  She’d suspected he’d do this once he found out about the baby, suspected he’d sweep into her life with demands and conditions, forcing her to examine and acknowledge feelings she’d kept safely locked away for almost a year. “I don’t plan to negotiate, either. I’m not—I repeat not—going to marry you. Got it?”

  “We’ll go to the county courthouse and apply for a license first thing in the morning. You choose whether we take our vows before a judge or a minister. I can live with either one.”

  “You’re not listening to me.”

  “By tomorrow night we’ll be man and wife.”

  “Stop it, Nick!” She stumbled to her feet. “Just stop it. I’m not marrying you or anyone else, and that’s final. Don’t you get it? I never want to marry again.”

  He drew back as though he’d just realized how aggressive his stance had become. His eyes narrowed as he considered her expression. “You may not want to marry again but you have a responsibility to the child you carry that outweighs your personal desires.”

  She shook her head in instant denial. “Lots of single women raise their children without benefit of a father.”

  “Not when the father is ready, willing and able to contribute his fair share.”

  Heaven help her, she’d never won a verbal battle with him before. But this time would be different. For sanity’s sake, it had to be. “We’re already business partners. That’s quite enough, thanks.”

  “You’re sidestepping the issue. Our partnership has nothing to do with the baby or its conception.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Does it?”

  “You know it doesn’t.” She shot him an apprehensive glance. This probably wasn’t the best time to broach her next problem. Still... If it got him off the subject of marriage, she’d risk it. “As long as we’re talking about Security Systems International—”

  “We weren’t. We were talking about our child.”

  “Well, now we’re talking about SSI,” she persisted. “And I think you should know that I’ve reached a decision. I want you to buy me out.”

  The change in him was instantaneous. One moment his eyes were alive with fierce intent, and the next the life force behind that cobalt glare winked out of existence. All expression was bleached from the taut planes of his face. “Why?”

  “Peter was the one interested in SSI, not me. After all, you and my father-in-law started the business. I just came along for the ride.”

  “You’re an important part of the firm.”

  “I’ve never understood about computers and security systems. You know that. Besides, I’m of no use to you or the company. It seems pointless to continue.”

  “Peter wasn’t computer literate, either.”

  She heard the criticism behind the comment and chose to ignore it. The two men had argued at length about that particular fact.

  And as much as she hated to admit it, Nick was right. A man owning half of a computer security system should, at the very least, have a working knowledge of computers. “Granted, Peter didn’t have your expertise, but he was a born salesman. He brought in a lot of clients.”

  “Wrong. You brought in the clients. They listened to you, not Peter.”

  “I can’t believe we’re arguing about this. I seem to remember your offering to buy us out on a fairly regular basis.”

  “An offer Peter always rejected.”

  She gazed at him steadily. “I won’t be rejecting this offer.”

  Nick folded his arms across his chest with a finality she couldn’t mistake. “That’s because I won’t be masking one.”

  “I don’t understand. For years you encouraged us to sell our interest in SSI.” Frustration edged her voice. “Now you want me to stay? Why?”

  He shrugged nonchalantly, but she noticed the taut play of muscles that ridged his shoulders and tightened his jaw. Tension rippled just beneath that impassive exterior, she’d stake her share of the business on it. “I need you,” he stated with devastating simplicity.

  She smiled in genuine amusement. “You don’t need anyone.”

  He acknowledged her observation with a wry nod. “So I’ve always been told. Nevertheless, I need you. At least for now.”

  “Why?”

  To her surprise he began to pace. It left her with an uneasy feeling. Nick never paced. He never made unnecessary gestures, never allowed his expression to betray his emotions. And he never, ever permitted an adversary a glimpse of any possible vulnerabitities—assuming he had any. And yet... He paced, revealing with distressing clarity his inner turmoil.

  How utterly un-Nick-like.

  As though he was aware of her thoughts, his restless movements stilled, and an impenetrable calm cloaked his thoughts. “The truth is, I’ve spent almost a year overseas restructuring our international division. Unfortunately it’s caused me to neglect our domestic clients.”

  “How does that—”

  “We have competition now. Serious competition. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed.”

  “I’ve been preoccupied,” she stated with a touch of irony. “I know we’ve lost a few clients, but—”

  “And we stand to lose even more if we don’t put a lot of time and effort into recovering that business. You’re invaluable when it comes to wooing clients.”

  She gestured downward. “I’m not in a position to woo anyone. I’m about to have a baby, in case you didn’t notice.”

  “Oh, I noticed.”

  The soft timbre of his voice worried her. It always had.

  Whereas Peter would frequently erupt in a volcanic display of fury, she’d never seen Nick lose his infamous calm. Instead, he grew progressively quieter, his husky voice dropping to a rumbling murmur that was far more intimidating than any of Peter’s explosive tantrums.

  “Well, if you noticed, then you must realize that I don’t have a lot of time to put into SSI right now.”

  “I won’t need a lot of your time.” He frowned. “Why the sudden urgency to sell? It’s been almost two years since Peter died. What’s happened to prompt all this?”

  Dani hesitated, uncertain how much to tell him. He was so analytical, so logical, so shrewd. How could she confess her innermost longings to him? It would be like explaining emotions to Gem. “It’s time I got on with my life,” she finally answered. “I’d like to sell this monstrosity Peter called a house and buy something cozier. And I’m thinking that I might...well, that I might start up a business.”

  “You already have a business.”

  “It was never mine, and you know it. You and my father-in-law got it off the ground. And though Peter and I attempted to step into his shoes when he was killed—” She fixed Nick with a candid look. “They were shoes neither of us adequately filled.”

  “How are you going to start up a business and care for a newborn when continuing at SSI is too much for you?” he asked with aggravating—and all too typical—logic.

  “Obviously I won’t,” she conceded. “Not at first.”

  “Then until our baby is born and you’re ready to begin this new venture, you can continue with our company.”

  Our baby. Our company. She suspected he used the word deliberately to weave a connection between them, a connection she longed to break. She fought to control her irritation, rubbing the ache building in the small of her back. “Do you thin
k we could discuss this later? I’m rather tired.”

  He was at her side in two seconds flat, a supportive hand beneath her elbow. “Sit down, Dani. Try to relax.”

  “That’s a little difficult at the moment,” she retorted.

  “That’s only because you’re making the situation more complicated than necessary.” Before she had time to argue, he asked, “When did you last see a doctor?”

  “This morning.”

  “No complications, I assume?”

  “None.”

  He hunkered down beside her, his keen gaze level with her own. She’d missed him, she realized with a pang. Missed his concern and kindness, his sharp intelligence and calming influence. The panic she’d experienced when he’d first appeared faded, replaced by the tentative stirring of emotions she refused to name.

  “You haven’t been sleeping, have you?”

  “It’s been difficult,” she confessed. “It doesn’t seem to matter how many pillows I use or where I put them, I can’t get comfortable.”

  “It won’t be much longer,” he said consolingly.

  If only he wasn’t so close. It brought back memories, memories she’d spent nine long months struggling to excise. The fact that she’d been totally unsuccessful only served to fuel her discomfort. It didn’t matter that Nick cloaked himself in the trappings of civilization or that his crisp white shirt and Frank Lloyd Wright inspired tie lent credence to the illusion. Nor did it matter that he possessed the logic of a computer and kept his emotions harbored snug within the polar ice caps. She knew the truth.

  One touch gave him absolute power over women.

  “You’re thinking about that night.”

  His words were whisper soft, slipping beneath her defenses and summoning a series of images she’d long ago banned from her memory. That night! Why couldn’t she forget? It was New Year’s Eve, and she’d gone to his house to deliver some papers she’d found locked in Peter’s personal safe—financial—documents she thought Nick would need. At his request, she’d waited while he’d studied them.

  Apparently, he hadn’t been any more successful at deciphering the jumble of figures and handwritten comments than she. Although judging by the frown that lined his brow, the parts he’d managed to assess hadn’t pleased him. After a full half hour of silence he’d carefully set the papers aside. But instead of showing her to the door, he’d tossed a log on the fire and turned on the stereo. Next he’d offered her a glass of champagne, and then...

  And then the clock had chimed twelve.

  “It’s New Year’s,” Nick had said with an odd smile. “Why don’t we start it off right?”

  So Dani had found herself in his arms, exchanging a quick, friendly kiss. She’d been particularly vulnerable that night, or so she’d told herself. After all, it was the anniversary of Peter’s death—a full year to the night since he’d announced his intention to divorce her. A full year since he’d walked out the door, climbed into his Lotus and then proceeded to wrap the car around a telephone pole. Nick would be leaving in a few short hours for Europe. And she’d felt so alone, anchorless. At least that’s how she’d rationalized matters when the morning sun had arrived, returning with it her sanity.

  But that one kiss had astonished her. Nick’s mouth had been firm and determined, tasting of champagne and passion. It definitely hadn’t been in keeping with a man nicknamed Ice. The contradiction intrigued her, tempted her to sample his mouth again and then again. He’d given everything she’d asked of him with each escalating kiss—and more. Far more, as it turned out.

  To be brutally honest, she hadn’t thought about consequences that night. Other thoughts occupied her mind. From quick, friendly kisses to lingering, heated exchanges, they’d slipped swiftly toward a burning, hungry demand. His dress shirt and tie angered her, and she’d stripped the silk from around his neck before tackling the buttons.

  “Do you always dress this formally when you’re at home alone?” she’d demanded.

  “Not usually. I was out earlier.”

  “Let me guess. Business, right?”

  A bitter chill crept into his eyes. “What else is there?”

  His comment inexplicably angered her, just as it filled her with a painful sadness. “Let me show you what else.”

  A reckless determination seized her, stealing the last of her reserve—and common sense. He didn’t protest as she plucked his gold cuff links from their holes and swept the shirt from his shoulders. If anything, she sensed his amusement—and something else. Not vulnerability. No, not Nick. But there was an odd hesitancy about him, a caution she’d never before associated with his decisive nature. She remembered wanting to analyze it, wanting to question him about it. Unfortunately, she’d become distracted at that point, perhaps because what she’d discovered hidden beneath his crisp white shirt had so astonished her.

  She’d found the broadest shoulders she’d ever seen on a man. The muscles were beautifully shaped, carved into clean, utterly masculine lines. She couldn’t believe she’d never noticed them before. How could she have missed something this impressive? His skin gleamed like golden cypress, full of light and warmth and begging to be caressed. She pulled back ever so slightly, allowing firelight to lick across his corded biceps, watching in fascination as it curled into his furred chest.

  She reached for him, tracing a path from his shoulders to where the pelt of dark brown hair began. The color was such an unexpected and striking contrast to the white-blond streaks capping his head. Yet even more fascinating was the abrasive texture. It stirred a delicious tingle across the surface of her palms, a tingle she’d never gotten from Peter’s boyishly smooth skin. She stroked Nick’s chest, unable to resist. And all the while, inch by agonizing inch, her fingers dipped ever lower, following an enticing path that led past the flat, rippling plane of his abdomen straight to his belt buckle.

  There he stopped her. “Are you sure this is what you want? There’s still time to change your mind.”

  “No. I’m afraid there’s not. It’s now or never.”

  “Don’t start something you don’t plan to finish,” he warned roughly.

  Perhaps if she hadn’t been so impulsive, she’d have listened. But all she heard was the need seeping from beneath his harsh tones. And she responded to that desperate call with all her heart.

  She left his arms and stood close to the fire. And while he watched with eyes hotter than the bluest star, she stripped away her black dress, followed by scraps of rose-red satin. Finally, all that remained was the clip that held her hair in place. Kneeling at his side, she discarded even that. Her hair had fallen past her shoulders in a heavy curtain of thick, dark waves, curling across his knee. And still he didn’t move.

  “Nick?” she’d murmured uncertainly.

  “Please. Don’t let this be an illusion.”

  She hadn’t known how to answer his whispered plea. Not that she needed to. Nick drew her close and held her with such a devastating combination of urgent passion and gentle concern that she’d wept. And what had followed had changed her. Utterly and completely. His lovemaking had revealed a wondrous secret—a secret that had been kept from her all the years of her marriage to Peter.

  Nick had shown her the true meaning of love.

  “You can’t forget that night, either, can you?” he asked quietly.

  Dani closed her eyes, fighting to bury the memories. Not that she’d succeed. At least, she never had before. “I can’t forget the next morning, either.” Disillusionment had set in that day, when she’d woken to a cold, empty bed and a lover long gone.

  “I had no choice but to leave. You know that.”

  “I don’t want to discuss it!” she retorted with an edge of despair. “The entire episode was an aberration.”

  “That aberration created our child.”

  It was her turn to flinch. She curled a protective hand around her stomach. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “No! I want this
baby.”

  He didn’t miss a beat. “So do I.”

  She couldn’t mistake his sincerity. It came through in every word he uttered. Unfortunately, she’d spent the last nine months thinking of the baby as hers. It came as a distinct shock to realize that he might have similar emotions. Her mouth curved in a whimsical smile. Nick experiencing emotions? Now there was a peculiar thought—as peculiar as believing Gem could feel.

  “It would seem we have a small problem on our hands,” she stated.

  “Not at all. I’ve already given you the solution.”

  “Marriage.”

  His gaze remained rock steady. “Marriage.”

  “And if I don’t agree?”

  His expression turned implacable. “You will. You don’t have any choice.”

  “There are always choices,” she insisted.

  “Not this time, sweetheart.” The endearment sounded more natural than she’d have thought possible. “You want me to buy out your share of the partnership. You also want to start your own business. You can’t do either without my agreement and cooperation.”

  She couldn’t believe it. Not of Nick. She regarded him numbly. “And the price of your agreement is marriage?”

  CHAPTER TWO

  IF NICK FELT ANY REGRET at forcing her hand, he didn’t show it. Instead, he inclined his head as coolly as though he’d just proposed she take bleu cheese on her salad instead of ranch dressing. “One year of your time,” he said. “That’s all I’m asking. You help firm up our domestic sales, and on the baby’s first birthday, I’ll buy you out if that’s what you still want.”

  “And our marriage?”

  He didn’t answer, and Dani studied him in frustration, wishing she could read him as easily as he seemed to read her. But in the five years they’d been partners, she’d never successfully deciphered his thoughts. This time proved no different.

  “You can’t keep what you never had,” he replied cryptically.

  “Give it to me in English, Colter. Will you agree to a divorce?”