Bid Me Now

by Rebecca Gilise

  “But, that’s just it. It wasn’t fair and square. George called me last night with the news. Apparently Wilkins and Davies know the bids were leaked before the deadline, and because Brannagh Enterprises put in the highest offer, the leak had to be to them.”

  Miri sank down on the bed as her legs started to give way. “What do you mean? How could they have done that?”

  “We’re not exactly sure, but apparently, the other bids were emailed to an anonymous source before the deadline. Of course, now we know why Nick’s offer was only just above yours. He knew your offer, and all he had to do was top it by a couple of thousand and the mill was his.”

  Miri froze, her finger poised over the last stubborn button of Nick’s shirt. “Oh, no. Surely that can’t be true. Why would he even bother to cheat on a small job?”

  “A small but lucrative job. Of course, it means their offer is invalid, maybe even illegal. And of course Wilkins and Davies won’t want to admit anything publicly until they’ve investigated. By the way, where are you?”

  “Nowhere important. I have to go.”

  “Marisa, are you with Nick?”

  “I can’t talk now. Can I call you later?”

  “Oh, my darling, you are with him. I’ll come and get you. Are you at the Endeavour?”

  “Yes…no. I’m fine, Alex. I’ll call you later, I promise.” Miri ended the call, terrified she was going to faint.

  She sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers clutching Nick’s shirt, her mind sick with horror at Alex’s words.

  Ten minutes ago they had made love. Three minutes ago Nick’s suite had been her paradise. Now it looked sordid. Ugly. A place of cynical manipulation. Nick had acted as if he cared for her. And she had let herself care for him. More than she could ever have imagined. Stupidly, she’d made it so easy for him by inviting herself to his suite. He had the mill, and now he’d had her for a night. A double victory for him.

  The full realization of the situation hit her like a cruel slap.

  Without warning, nausea rose in her throat.

  Seized by a frantic need to get out of the suite before she threw up, or worse, before Nick came out of the bathroom looking for her, she began a frenzied search for her clothes. Retrieving her panties from under the bed, she dragged them on, then pulled his shirt off and struggled into her dress, which Nick had carefully placed across a chair. Swallowing a sob at the irony of his apparent thoughtfulness, Miri fought back her tears and rising nausea.

  Her escape from the suite might have been successful if she hadn’t left her cell phone on the bed. Just as she grabbed it, Nick emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. His super-muscular body gleamed with moisture where he hadn’t toweled himself off, and the mouth that had kissed hers a thousand times wore a broad grin.

  “I thought you were joining me, but you’re dressed,” he said, his grin fading to a puzzled frown. He started walking toward her, and Miri took a step back.

  “I…I have to go. Something has come up.” Miri shoved her phone in her bag and turned to the door. She couldn’t bear to look at him.

  “Don’t you want to stay to eat?”

  “No…no, I can’t.”

  “Let me get dressed, and I’ll drive you. Whatever it is, maybe I can help.”

  She could barely stand now as her dizziness threatened to buckle her legs. “No.”

  Nick took three long strides to reach her, his arm slipping around her waist. “Miri, what is it?”

  As she looked up at his face, his brow was so furrowed with worry that Miri could almost believe his act. He must have done this before to be so good at it.

  “Did you get a call with bad news?”

  She jerked away, almost falling as her ankle gave way. “Don’t. I just need to get home.” He hadn’t realized that she knew, and no way was she going to tell him. The final humiliation.

  He stepped back, bewildered. “Sweetheart, let me help you. Just tell me what it is.”

  His endearment brought a rush of blinding fury that had Miri shaking. “I don’t want your help, and I’m not your sweetheart,” she whispered savagely past clenched teeth.

  He flinched but didn’t move. “What the hell is going on?” Nick’s voice had gone very low.

  “You tell me.” She felt a sudden swell of tears. No, she wouldn’t cry. That would mean he’d won.

  “What does that mean?”

  She swallowed back a sob. “What do you think it means?”

  “Why won’t you tell me what’s happened?” He put a hand to his head, then lowered it again, staring at her as if he’d just figured out something. “Do you think last night was a one-night stand or something? Because that’s not…”

  “Was it?”

  “Jesus.”

  He couldn’t even deny it. Sickness heaved in her stomach. “I need to use….” She turned and fled to the bathroom, slamming the door shut so he couldn’t follow.

  Miri threw up, but it made no difference to the pitching nausea and the headache climbing up the back of her neck. Rinsing her mouth with water, she stared at herself in the mirror, barely recognizing the frightened, ghost-white reflection. The words “if something seems too good to be true, it usually is” fell into her head. Nick had been too good to be true. Even Bree had seen it.

  A surge of self-loathing and nausea swept her so hard, Miri braced her hands on the basin to hold herself upright. How could she have been so stupid? Allowing herself to be carried away by someone who was little more than a stranger. She’d made love with him over and over, and all the time he’d hidden his smug lie. What did that make him? It didn’t matter. What mattered was that she needed to get out of his suite.

  Miri drew a deep breath for steadiness and walked out of the bathroom to face him. He was sitting on the end of the bed, holding the hair comb she’d left it in his car after their dinner at Jean-Paul’s.

  For a moment, she looked at his handsome face, the grief of what might have been threatening to overwhelm her again. She watched him rise and start toward her, the comb in his hand, his expression a mixture of confusion and anger.

  “Talk to me, Miri. I deserve at least that much.”

  Miri caught the steel in his voice that she imagined served him well in managing his company. She wasn’t surprised. From the first, it had been that hard edge that had attracted her. In reality, she had only herself to blame.

  Swiping a hand across her tear-filled eyes, Miri found her own steel. “You deserve nothing!”

  Her words stopped him in his tracks as if she had physically struck him.

  Miri picked up her shoes and opened the door, knowing he was watching her and hating herself for still wanting him.

  “Good morning, madam.” The room service waiter smiled brightly from behind his trolley, but Miri put her head down and pushed her way past to the elevator opposite.

  Her one-night stand would end with a cab ride home.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Abe was right. For the so-called society wedding of the year, the Maddison-Baxter nuptials were an unruly affair. Definitely one of Bree’s horror weddings.

  Miri stood on the outskirts of the fray, watching Bree corral the wedding party into a group pose while the guests looked on at the sideshow with a mixture of delight and sympathy. Still, Bree seemed to have it in hand, circling around the wedding party like an enthusiastic sheepdog, barking orders that had them all jumping to attention.

  Miri couldn’t say that she was enjoying herself, but at least it was a distraction. It had been two days since she’d left Nick’s hotel suite, and she still needed all the comfort she could get, even if it did mean toting Bree’s heavy photographic equipment bag around when she should be home working.

  Bree slid to a stop beside Miri. “Thank God, nearly done. Some in-laws have no gratitude. Anyway, all good shots. Thankfully, I’m only doing the stills. That guy with the video camera looks all in.”

  Miri mustered a small smile, more for Bree’s benefi
t than her own. She hadn’t managed anything close to the real thing for days. “Looks like you’ve both got it all under control. Thank you for insisting I come as your packhorse.”

  Bree squeezed her arm. “Good to see you smile. For a while I thought I’d have to get Alex’s pool guy to lift your spirits.”

  “Oh, God, when Alex offered to introduce me to him as her so-called remedy for a broken heart, I couldn’t believe it. He looks about seventeen. I’m sure she was joking, but you never know with her.”

  Bree laughed. “Those abs of his sure are something.”

  “You don’t think that Alex and he…?”

  Bree shook her head. “Nah. Way too young, even for the Widow Olivet. Alex has two requirements when it comes to her lovers. Must be legal and have a six-pack. Oh, and a pulse helps.”

  “Lord, that’s awful, Bree. We shouldn’t laugh — she’s been so kind.”

  Within minutes of Miri arriving home from the Endeavour, Alex had turned up to take her home like she was a sick kitten that needed round-the-clock care. Bree, being too lazy to cook, had gone to Abe’s place for two days, leaving the house empty.

  “Well, it’s over with now. Anyway, I’m glad you’re back in residence. Just a couple of extra group photos and one of that son-of-Chucky horror of a ring bearer.”

  “Yes, well, Chucky won’t stand a chance against you.”

  “That’s true. Little brat. Anyway, will you be okay?”

  “Fine, don’t worry about me. I’ll talk to Abe if I get bored. He’s with the minister.”

  Miri looked across to see Abe standing in the church portico in conversation with the Reverend Pike. Both wore expressions of pained endurance, clearly wishing their duties were over.

  “All right, now where’s that demon kid?” Bree slung her camera back over a shoulder and trudged off.

  Miri gratefully retreated to a stone bench to watch from a distance. It really was something to see Bree managing Lilian Baxter, the mother of the bride, a woman of remarkable tenacity when it came to the arrangement and photographing of her daughter’s veil. Bree, of course, quickly took the upper hand. Every time Lilian advanced, Bree waved her away as if the poor woman was contagious.

  “Well, that’s it for now,” wheezed Bree as she arrived back beside Miri to start packing up her gear. “I hope they don’t want divorce photos in six months. With Lilian in the family, it just might happen. Anyway, I’m off to the wedding breakfast venue for Round Two. You wanna come?”

  “Actually, would you mind if I went home? I need to work. Besides, Carly said she’d call in late afternoon and might stay for supper. She’s got some ceramics ideas from last weekend’s Huntington Art Workshop.”

  The good thing about Carly’s company was her constant chatter, and that’s what Miri needed right now. Lots of blah-blah to distract her for the rest of the afternoon. Besides, she had to get back to her normal routine, and what was more normal than talking to a friend and fellow sculptor about art?

  “No problem. Hey, look who’s turned up. The Chronicle’s society reporter.”

  “Hi, ladies, behaving ourselves?” inquired Abe cheerfully as he strolled up, his hands jammed deep in the pockets of his faded khaki pants. “Some wedding, huh? So, Miri, I have that piece about the mill ready for Monday morning’s edition.”

  Miri made a small grimace. “I’m not sure about this. Do you have to do it?”

  “Yep, the town needs to know that the mill is going to be demolished. They could start tearing the place down any day. This is an important issue.”

  “They already know, and I still think it might be best left alone.” Miri gnawed and worried at her bottom lip. Provoking Nick could backfire on everyone. She’d seen a glimpse of his steel. He wouldn’t take kindly to interference in his business.

  “If you want my opinion, do the article,” Bree chipped in, slipping an arm through Abe’s. “Can you drive me to the wedding breakfast so Miri can have the car to go home?”

  “Sure, no problem. I’ll finish the piece this afternoon, and then you can check it before publication. Okay?”

  Miri sighed, knowing she was outnumbered. And it was his job, after all. “I don’t want to see it. Just email it to Alex first.”

  “You know that Alex won’t let this go without a fight. Be prepared,” said Bree.

  “I know,” Miri answered, accepting the inevitability of Alex confronting Nick. It would be messy. Apart from anything else, she would have to see Nick again. Hopefully, any contact would be in the presence of Alex, or better still, an attorney when he signed the mill over to her.

  Miri said her goodbyes and headed home. Although she needed to work on the drawings, what she really had in mind was to lie in a bubble bath for a couple of hours with a book.

  But not a romance novel. Today she was feeling far too raw for that genre.

  • • •

  Fresh from a long soak in the tub, Miri had only just pulled on an old green cut-off tank top and her favorite denim shorts, frayed by so many washings that they now showed an indecent amount of her backside, when her cell phone rang.

  “My precious,” came Alex’s familiar purring voice, “how are we today?”

  “We’re okay, Alex. Thank you so much for having me stay. It helped a lot.”

  “You are most welcome. Now we need to get together early this week for a discussion about our next steps.”

  “Do we need next steps? Quite frankly, I’d hoped we could leave it.”

  “Oh, no, my dear, we can’t do that. It must be dealt with, and quickly. Now, I understand Abe has the article on the mill’s demolition ready for publication.”

  “Yes, but he’ll email you the draft beforehand.”

  “That’s good. There are a few things that need to be included. Now, don’t worry about a thing. I’ll make a time later this week to catch up.”

  “Fine. By the way, I never asked you what you said to Nick at the unveiling. What was it?”

  “Oh, well, I congratulated him on buying the mill, and asked him if he was surprised at his bid being so close to yours. Just checking his reaction, of course.”

  “And?”

  “All he said was that can happen with sealed bids, and he didn’t want to discuss it further. If only I’d told him of my suspicions, none of this would have happened.”

  “Please don’t blame yourself. You’ve been wonderful.”

  “But I should have known what would happen with that big hunk of simmering testosterone. A man like Nick Brannagh is an experience, and only for the experienced. Not for unwary innocents. Now, would you like to come over for dinner again tonight? Bring Bree as well.”

  Miri winced at being reminded that she was an innocent. But Alex was right. Her two love affairs hadn’t exactly prepared her for Nick. “Thanks, Alex, but I’ve got to keep working on the library sculpture drawings. They’re due in a week.”

  The front door chimed. “Anyway, I have to go. I’m expecting Carly, and that’ll be her now.”

  Miri snapped her phone shut and checked her watch. A little after two-thirty, so far too early for Carly, but then Carly did have a tendency to be time-challenged. Holding her hair up in a twist, a bobby pin in her mouth, Miri padded down the hallway in bare feet to wrench open the front door. It took three full seconds to recognize her visitor through the blinding afternoon sunlight.

  It wasn’t Carly.

  It was Nick, and he was staring at her like he meant business.

  His gaze didn’t move beyond her face, the strength of his stare not allowing her any latitude to look away. Slowly extracting the pin from her mouth, she released her hair and put her hand on her hip, daring him to speak so she could slam the door halfway through his sentence.

  “Are you all right?”

  For a split second Miri was caught off guard, surprised that he was inquiring after her health. “I’m fine, so you can leave.” Now was a good time to shut the door in his face. But just as she stepped back, Nick brought hi
s arm up and rested it against the doorjamb.

  “If you don’t mind, I need to get back to work.” Miri’s limbs started to shake. Framed in the doorway, he seemed intimidatingly large.

  Nick adjusted his arm against the door, his thick bicep straining the sleeve of his white T-shirt.

  Miri tried not to look, certain he’d only done it for her benefit. But she couldn’t stop herself any more than she could stop the earth from turning on its axis. When she looked back to his face, she saw the flicker of acknowledgement in his eyes. Damn him.

  “It’s obvious you’re not fine. I want an explanation,” he pressed, his eyes heavy with expectation. Clearly, he wasn’t going to make this easy.

  “Surely you know!” Did he really want her to spell it out for him?

  “No, I don’t know. Your cell phone has been off for two days, and no one’s been here. So what’s going on?”

  All right, he would get his explanation. Then she would order him out. She would have closure.

  She shrugged and stepped back. “All right. Come down to the studio.”

  She walked ahead of him down the passage to her studio, sashaying her hips as payback for him catching her staring at his muscles.

  Stopping just inside her studio, she turned to see him pause in the doorway and sweep his gaze over her sculpting equipment, books, and art supplies. When he finally settled his stare on Miri, she felt its cold inquiry. So different from their night together.

  The night her heart had sung.

  She moved to her easel, now regretting her decision to let him into the house, let alone her studio. Her sanctuary. Alex’s words spiraled in her head. He was an experience, and only for the experienced. Well, he had given her a lifetime’s experience of hurt, so she should feel confident to deal with him, right? Except she didn’t feel confident with her face as red as a poppy and him looking at her like this was all her fault.

  Her studio felt filled with his presence. And infuriatingly, he kept his eyes locked on hers, giving her no chance to organize her thoughts. Well, if he was going to stare like that, she might as well give him something to stare at. Taking a step back, Miri leaned against her easel, pulling her shoulders back so that her tank top lifted to reveal more skin. Not intending to leave the house for the rest of the day, she hadn’t bothered with a bra. A lucky decision on her part. All that skin on display and him knowing her breasts were bare under her tank top would tempt him like hell. She smiled a fraction, willing his eyes to drop.