A Family Circle 1 - A Very Convenient Marriage Read online

  Nikki took a sip of tea and considered possible responses to that question. In the end, she chose the simplest and most direct. "I'm getting married."

  The stark announcement brought Liz's head up so fast Nikki had visions of whiplash. "You're what?"

  "I said I'm getting married." Repeating the words didn't make them sound any more real. "In a few days," she added, feeling a flutter of panic at the thought.

  "Who?" Liz looked bewildered. "I didn't know you were even dating anyone."

  "I'm not."

  "But you're getting married?"

  "Yes."

  Liz stared at her, and then her eyes widened in understanding. "Your grandfather's will? You're getting married because of that?"

  Nikki nodded. "Max set it up. It's a friend of his. A police officer."

  "Have you met the guy?" Liz's tea was forgotten as she leaned forward, her eyes bright with interest.

  "This morning." Nikki shifted uncomfortably, remembering that meeting. "In Max's office."

  "What's he like?"

  What was he like? Sam Walker's image sprang into Nik-ki's mind, far more vivid than she would have liked. Why couldn't Max have found her the kind of guy you forgot as soon as they were out of sight?

  "He's tall," she said slowly.

  "How tall?"

  "I don't know. Six-one, six-two. I didn't have a tape measure with me.''

  "Skinny, fat, somewhere in between?" Liz asked briskly.

  "Somewhere in between." The lackluster description hardly did justice to Sam Walker's broad shoulders and narrow hips, but it was close enough.

  "Is he handsome?"

  "No. Yes. Sort of." Nikki flushed as her friend's eyebrows rose.

  "Nice to hear you sounding so decisive," she commented.

  "If I'd known you were going to be so interested, I'd have taken a snapshot." Nikki winced at the defensive sound of her own voice. She had to get a grip. "He has... dents in his face."

  Liz choked on a mouthful of tea, coughed briefly and then stared at her friend. "Dents? You mean a birth defect or scars of some kind?"

  "No." Nikki waved one hand to dismiss that idea. As far as she could see, Sam Walker was as close to perfect as it was possible for a man to be. If you liked that type, anyway. She'd never really seen the appeal of shaggy dark blond hair, blue eyes, a smile to die for and muscles like a Greek god. No appeal at all. "He's got a cleft chin and creases when he smiles," she said, aware that Liz was still waiting for her to explain what she'd meant by dents.

  "Creases?" Liz frowned, "Dimples? You mean the guy has dimples?"

  "Yes." She didn't want to think of them that way. Dimples sounded... attractive, and she didn't want to find anything about Sam Walker attractive. Not his dimples, not anything.

  "So, is he good-looking or not?" Liz asked, her frustration clear in her voice.

  "What difference does it make? I don't care if he looks the way Danny DeVito did in Batman Returns. All I need is a husband for the next year so I can get my hands on my money."

  "That's true. Still, if you have to spend a year married to some guy, it wouldn't hurt if he was attractive and pleasant to be around. Is he nice?"

  "Nice? I guess." Nice wasn't the word she would have used, but she supposed he hadn't exactly been un-nice. Or, at least, no more un-nice than she herself had been.

  "And the two of you hit it off?" Liz pursued anxiously.

  "Well enough," Nikki temporized. There was no reason to mention that they'd hit it off about as well as oil and water. "Since this is just a business arrangement, we don't have to be bosom pals."

  "True." Liz took a sip of her tea, her expression thoughtful. Michael was scooting his hew toy up and down the wall, making engine noises more suited to a 747 than a three-inch-long dump truck. "It's ridiculous that you should have to go to these lengths to get your inheritance. Your grandfather didn't make your brother get married before he got his money."

  "Grandfather didn't think much of women and their ability to manage money." Nikki got up and refilled the teakettle, more for something to do than out of a desire for more tea. "I gather Grandmother had feathers for brains, and I can't say Mother is much better."

  "There's nothing wrong with your mother's ability to manage money. Every time she starts running out, she marries someone rich. Efficiency itself."

  Nikki snorted with laughter at this blunt summation of her mother's money management techniques. They'd known each other long enough and well enough for Liz to speak her mind without fear of offending.

  "I don't think Grandfather had your appreciation for Marilee's methods." Nikki glanced at her watch. "I'm supposed to be having lunch with her today. She's on her way to Europe tomorrow to look for husband number five. Or is it six? If I'm lucky, she'll marry another count or earl or something and stay in Europe for the next year. If I'm really lucky, I can be divorced before she even knows I'm married. Let's face it, my mother is a ditz, my grandmother was a ditz. Ergo, according to my grandfather, I must be a ditz. He figured he was protecting me by forcing me to get married because everyone knows men are better at managing money." There was more resignation than anger in her voice.

  "Yeah, right. Bill couldn't balance a checkbook if his life depended on it. And look at your brother. He ran through the money your grandfather left him in a couple of years. Why didn't Alan have to get married to inherit his half of the money? I know, I know." Liz waved one hand, forestalling Nikki's response. "We've had this discussion before. Alan's a man and the last of the Beauvisage name. Therefore, he gets his inheritance up front instead of being forced into marrying some total stranger."

  "I don't have to get married," Nikki said as she poured fresh hot water into both of their cups. "I could just let the money go to Alan, which it will do if I'm not married by the time I'm twenty-seven. I do have a trust fund that's mine whether I marry or not. It's not like I'D starve without it."

  "No, but you couldn't afford to keep your house."

  "It's too big for one person anyway." Nikki tried to sound as if the thought of losing the house she'd grown up in didn't bother her. But in reality she loved the big old house and hated the thought of letting it go.

  "And you couldn't afford to keep the Rainbow Place going," Liz finished, playing the trump card.

  Nikki was silent for a moment, thinking about the daycare center she funded in a low-income area. She'd started it four years ago when she'd graduated from college and realized that a degree in American history didn't do much to prepare her for a job in the real world. Not that she'd needed a job, but she had needed something to occupy her time, something to make her feel as if she were making some contribution to the world.

  She not only provided the operating capital, she also worked there three days a week. It had become a vital part of her life and it would leave a real hole if she had to give it up. But far more important was the impact it would have on the mothers and children who'd come to depend on Rainbow Place. Without safe day care available, many of the women would have to quit their jobs to stay home with their children. Many of them would end up on welfare.

  No, she couldn't let the center close. With the money she'd inherit when she got married, she could afford to keep it open. Without that money, the center's future was in serious jeopardy. She sighed.

  "How'd you like to come to a wedding?"

  "You and the guy with the dents in his face?" Liz's hazel eyes sparkled with laughter.

  "Me and Sam Walker," Nikki confirmed. She picked up her cup and cradled it between her hands, staring down into the amber-colored tea. "Of course, we still have to get Uncle Jason's approval," she added, not sure whether she hoped to get it or prayed that they didn't.

  Chapter 3

  Nikki adjusted the cuff of her kelly-green suit jacket, using the motion as a cover for a discreet glance at her watch. It was almost one-thirty and, the message she'd given Max had been for Sam Walker to be here at one o'clock.

  He was late and she was going to ki
ll him with her bare hands.

  He knew how important this meeting was, knew they had to have her uncle's approval in order for her to get her inheritance. But he couldn't even bother to show up on time. This was probably some macho attempt to show her that he didn't have to take orders from her. Not that she'd given him any orders. She'd simply left a message with Max stating the time and place of the meeting she'd arranged.

  Perhaps she had been a bit peremptory, but Max would have softened that when he passed the message on to Sam. Which meant that there was no excuse for him being late at all. Except to annoy her, and he was certainly succeeding in that. She became aware that Jason was speaking and forced her attention away from plans for Sam Walker's demise.

  "...so I drew out my sword and ran him through, which was an unconventional way to win a trial but effective nonetheless."

  "What?" She stared at Jason in bewilderment, wondering just what it was she'd missed. "What are you talking about? Who did you run through?''

  The opposing attorney, of course." He seemed surprised that she had to ask. "A very annoying man with an irritating habit of rubbing his hands together like Uriah Heep gloating over his coins. I never could stand him, and neither could anyone else, which is probably why the judge cited me for contempt of court rather than murder."

  His blue eyes, only slightly faded by his sixty-five years of living, twinkled at her through the lenses of his neat horn-rimmed glasses. "You missed all the best parts, Nicole. It was a very good extemporaneous effort on my part, if I do say so myself."

  "I'm sorry, Uncle Jason." Nikki's smile was both regretful and affectionate. "I guess I faded out on you."

  "That's quite all right, my dear. Worried about your young man, are you?"

  "Just a little." She nearly choked on hearing Sam referred to as her young man. "It's not like him to be late." She didn't have any idea whether it was like him or not. For all she knew, Sam Walker was always late for incredibly important appointments.

  "Would you like to call and find out what's delaying him?"

  "No, that's all right. I'm sure he'll be here any minute." She could hardly admit that she didn't know where to call. All she knew was that Sam was a cop; she didn't have the slightest idea what city he worked for.

  Luckily, before her nerves were completely shot, Jason's secretary ushered Sam into the office.

  "Mr. Walker." Jason rose and went to greet him, which was just as well because Nikki was momentarily paralyzed by her first sight of her husband-to-be.

  She'd wondered what he'd look like cleaned up and wearing decent clothes. Even covered with several layers of dirt and rags, he'd had a definite impact on her senses, but that was nothing compared to what she felt now.

  Not that he looked all that different, it was just that he looked... different. Taller, even broader through the shoulders, lean hipped and with a long, rangy walk that bespoke confidence and maybe just a touch of arrogance. His dark blond hair was neatly combed and considerably cleaner than it had been the first time they met, but there was still something a little untamed about the way it curled against the back of his collar.

  He wore a well-tailored gray suit and a white shirt. Paired with this conservative attire was a fuchsia-and-black tie, patterned with indescribable swirls and dots. Just looking at it made her dizzy.

  Or was it looking at Sam Walker that made her lightheaded?

  "Mr. Drummond. I'm sorry I'm late. I had to testify at a hearing this morning and the proceedings were delayed."

  "I understand. The legal system is many things, but timely if s not."

  The two men shook hands. "I think Nicole was beginning to get a little worried, though," Jason continued, turning toward her with a fond smile. "I thought she was going to wear out her watch, she looked at it so many times."

  "I'm sorry you were worried, darling. I should have thought to call from the courthouse." Sam's smile was a masterpiece of concerned affection.

  "Darling" stared at him, barely managing to keep her mouth from gaping. This was the unwashed, unkempt, uncivil man she'd met less than a week ago? This attractive, well-dressed man looking at her as if be adored her?

  She realized that Jason was watching them, waiting for her response, and she managed to force a smile that she hoped looked more natural than it felt. "That's all right. I knew it had to be something important that kept you." She stood up so that she wouldn't feel at quite such a disadvantage.

  "Next time, I'll be sure to call and let you know I'm running late."

  He crossed the room to where she stood and reached toward her. Momentarily confused, Nikki half extended her hand, thinking he meant to shake it. But that wasn't what he had in mind. He did take her hand, but only to use it to draw her toward him.

  The wicked glint in his eyes dispelled the illusion of loving affection and gave Nikki warning of his intention. She turned her head slightly and the kiss aimed at her mouth landed on her cheek instead. Even that small contact had more impact than she liked. He was too close, too large and too male. She could smell the subtle, woodsy scent of his cologne, feel the faint, masculine roughness of his chin. She didn't like him being so close, forcing her to be so aware of him.

  Sam lifted his head and looked down at her with every appearance of adoration. "I'm sorry I worried you, sweetheart, but I'm glad you care enough to worry."

  Nikki guessed there were women who would have been charmed by his boyishly wicked smile. Foolish women who might actually enjoy this little game he was playing. If they'd been alone, she would have shoved him away and probably planted her fist in his face. But with Jason looking on, she couldn't do either. A quick glance told her that the other man was standing behind his desk, watching them with an indulgent expression.

  "That's all right, darling."

  Her smile was enough to chill Sam's blood but there was no time to avoid the spike heel that was planted squarely on the toe of his soft leather dress shoe and then slowly ground down. Pain sliced across the top of his foot.

  If they'd been alone, he wouldn't have bet money on his ability to resist the urge to shake her until her perfect white teeth rattled. Probably caps, he thought uncharitably. His hands tightened on her shoulders and their eyes did batde.

  She was a spoiled, rich little brat and the next year stretched ahead of him like an eternity.

  He was an overbearing, obnoxious, mercenary male and the next year was going to be absolute hell.

  "You two will have time for that later," Jason said, smiling at the pair of them. "Why don't you have a seat, Sam. I hope you don't mind if I call you Sam. I don't see any need for formality, do you?"

  "Not at all." Sam released Nikki's shoulders and swallowed a sigh of relief as she removed her heel from his foot. He resisted the urge to check for blood. From the feel of his foot, she must have sharpened the heel of the damned shoe into a stiletto.

  He sat down in the chair beside Nikki's and tried not to notice the subtle floral scent of her perfume, which was like a summer breeze wafting across a bed of roses. An ounce of the stuff probably cost as much as he made in a week, he reminded himself.

  "Nikki told me that she'd explained the situation with her grandfather's will to you and the necessity for this interview," Jason said. "She tells me that you'd just as soon walk away from this inheritance rather than rush her into marriage."

  The look Sam shot Nikki held grudging approval. He'd wondered how he was supposed to convince her grandfather's attorney that he wasn't marrying Nikki for her money. She'd done a perfect job of smoothing the path.

  "I don't want her to feel as if she has to make any decisions in a hurry. It's not like I'm marrying her for the money," he added, with a smile. Which was more or less true, since his money, the money for Mary's surgery, was coming out of what she already had. One thing he'd learned from doing undercover work was that it was always best to stick as close to the truth as possible.

  "I'm glad to hear it." Behind the smile in Jason's eyes was a shrewdness that
warned Sam that it would be foolish to underestimate him. He steepled his hands together on the desk. "Nikki hasn't really told me much about the two of you. Where did you meet?"

  "Meet?" Sam looked at Nikki. He cocked one eyebrow, as if to suggest that she should answer the question. She swallowed and searched her suddenly blank mind for a reasonable response. God, why hadn't they worked out these kind of details ahead of time?

  When the panic in her eyes made it clear that she didn't have a clever response handy, Sam answered Jason's question himself. "We were introduced by a mutual friend, actually. After everything Max told me, I knew even before I met her that Nikki was the perfect woman for me."

  Nikki was torn between gratitude and anger. There was nothing in what he'd said that could arouse Jason's suspicions but she was not blind to the double meaning behind his words. "After everything Max told him," indeed. All Max had had to say was that she was rich.

  "Max?" Jason asked. "Didn't I meet him at your house, Nicole?"

  "Yes. We've been friends for years."

  "A lawyer, isn't he?"

  Nikki swallowed. He couldn't possibly suspect the truth just because Max was a lawyer, could he? "Yes, he is."

  "Seems like there are a lot of us around," Jason said casually. He leaned back in his desk chair and studied the two of them for a moment. "Nikki tells me that the two of you haven't known each other long."

  "Not long," Sam admitted. "But I knew exactly how I felt about Nikki from the first moment I saw her." He threw a loving glance at Nikki, who fumed under the laughter in his eyes.

  "Love at first sight, hmm?" Jason's smile was indulgent.

  "Something like that."

  Nikki would have given a great deal to have planted her fist smack dab in the middle of Sam's smiling mouth. She could only hope that Jason would take her blush for one of modesty rather than rage.

  "I didn't approve of the way Lyman drew up his will and I made no secret of that. But he was a stubborn man.'' He peered at Sam from under bushy gray eyebrows. "You might be warned that stubbornness is a family trait," he added, smiling.