Page 1 of Texas Tycoon's Christmas Fiancée
One
Festive lights twinkled on Reunion Tower and across the sprawling metropolis of Dallas. Nick Rafford barely noticed his view. While he enjoyed guests at his party celebrating his return after being in Côte d’Azur the past three weeks, his attention focused on Grace Wayland, his caterer.
He had never seen her until tonight. His secretary had made arrangements for the catering company to do this Christmas party. From the first glimpse, Grace had surprised him.
Memory flashed back to the moment his butler had announced Grace’s arrival and shown her into the penthouse study.
Rising to his feet, Nick suffered a jolt to his system as sea-green eyes met his gaze. For an instant she seemed equally startled because color drained from her face and her eyes widened. It was fleeting, vanishing when she regained her composure.
Grace Wayland’s plain black dress should have caused her to fade into anonymity. Instead, he was riveted as she crossed the room and held out a slender hand to shake his.
When his hand closed over hers, the contact sent a sizzling current. She stood only a few feet away and hot attraction engulfed him. Mere seconds or a minute—he didn’t know how long their gazes remained locked. Breaking the spell, she said in a low voice, “I’m Grace Wayland.”
Her name was enough to bring him out of his daze, causing his second surprise of the evening. Brilliant green eyes mirrored his own anger. He had anticipated a different response, expecting her to fawn over him, to do all she could to please him with this party. Curious about her cool manner, he studied her.
“And so I meet one of the Raffords,” she added.
“You knew who I was before my secretary called about this party?”
“Of course,” she said, removing her hand from his, warmth lingering from the slight physical contact. “I imagine you’ve heard about me, just as I certainly have you. We have something in common—Michael. That’s who this is about, isn’t it?”
Nick kept his features impassive, hiding his surprise at her bluntness. “I figured I’d be the one to bring up Michael. My party isn’t the place or time for a discussion. Will you be available if I come to your office Monday?”
“Fine. I’ll be free around nine. How’s that time?”
“I can be there at nine,” he said, having already cleared his Monday calendar in anticipation of meeting with her.
“I assumed Michael was why you paid an exorbitant fee to get me to cater tonight. You could have saved yourself money by coming to me directly to book the party,” she added, her voice dropping to a whisper.
He shrugged. “You were highly recommended and I thought this was a way to meet. Tonight, my focus is on my party,” he said, suspecting it was going to be difficult to keep his mind on his party or his guests with Grace around. As he’d answered her, he noticed her full, rosy, inviting lips.
“When it comes to Michael, to my baby, I doubt we have anything to discuss,” she declared.
His surprise over her responses deepened. Mixed reactions were churning inside. He wanted to remind her that her “my baby” remark had been inaccurate, but he restrained himself from antagonizing her unnecessarily. His annoyance battled his attraction. Once more, their gazes collided, the heated moment stretching until she broke the spell.
“I have your instructions regarding the party. My help is waiting in the van to bring in the food and get ready.”
“I detect reluctance about catering for me,” he said.
“This job will be good for my business,” she replied, the barrier of coolness still in place.
“Summon your help. I’ll have someone show you around,” he said, while he considered her professional, noncommittal answer. Nick walked to the intercom to talk briefly to his butler, who responded in seconds. As Grace left with him, Nick watched her walk out, noticing her long legs and narrow waist.
Casually, while guests arrived and mingled, he checked on the arrangements, finding food, setups—every aspect of the preparations—flawless and accomplished with no disruption to him.
Later in the evening he stood with his two closest friends. He was only half-listening to their conversation while he watched Grace replenish a dish on his dining table.
“I don’t blame you for paying little attention to us,” Tony Ryder, Nick’s tall, curly-haired friend, said. “Where did you find her? The hors d’oeuvres are excellent, but I don’t think it would matter how the food tasted if she came along with it. Is she the manager?”
“Manager and owner. It’s a small business I heard about, so I thought I’d try it.”
“Right,” remarked Jake Benton, his blue-eyed gaze flicking to Grace and back to Nick. “How soon are you taking her out?”
Nick shook his head. “I don’t think so. So how has the basketball game been while I’ve been away?”
