Page 3 of Texas Tycoon's Christmas Fiancée
He saw an envelope with his name neatly typed on the front. The bill was inside and she had gone. He tapped the envelope against his palm. She hadn’t been the woman he had expected. What would an appointment with her Monday bring?
Shivering from the cold winter night, Grace drove away from the high-rise condo where Nick resided in an exclusive, gated area near downtown Dallas. She heaved a sigh of relief. Visions of dark chocolate-colored, thickly lashed eyes bedeviled her. Nick Rafford was charismatic, overwhelming, sexy, and accustomed to getting what he wanted. Each time she had been near him tonight there had been a disturbing electricity between them. What woman wouldn’t feel tempted around a man that attractive?
She had tried to hide her initial shock when she had entered the room to meet him. It was the first time she had seen one of the Rafford men in person. She had seen pictures and knew Michael had their black hair and dark eyes, but in person, she noticed more. Michael and his uncle had the same straight nose and thick eyelashes, a dimple in the right cheek. The seven-month-old baby under her guardianship bore a strong resemblance to his uncle. Michael had good genes.
As she drove, she recalled glimpses of Nick smiling, laughing with friends, shaking hands, talking earnestly. He was breathtaking, handsome, too appealing. His white shirt with flashing gold cuff links and navy slacks added to his commanding appearance and there had been no mistaking his arrogance. The man made it obvious that he expected to have his wishes granted.
What did Nick really want? Was he coming after Michael? Another chill ran down her spine. Yet the coldness vanished as she continued thinking about Nick. No one could stay chilled remembering Nick.
She didn’t want the Raffords in Michael’s life. She admitted to herself she was terrified they would take the precious boy from her. She’d had him from the moment he left the hospital after his birth and loved him as if he were her own son. She mulled over the strong resemblance to his uncle. His incredibly handsome uncle.
Her fears had heightened when she had stepped into Nick’s ritzy condo with its glass walls in the living area and panoramic views of the city. The opulent furniture and lamps were expensive. The kitchen had been state-of-the-art and when she had stepped into a spacious bathroom, the mirrors, plants and sunken tub with gold fittings had been as luxurious as the rest of the condo. She remembered seeing a spread about his home in a Dallas magazine. Imported marble, a New York decorator, priceless antiques, original oils, a lavish backdrop that added to his aura of wealth and power.
She wished she could shake Nick out of her thoughts, hoped even more that she would never see him again.
When she entered her small ground-floor apartment, she greeted her aunt, who was babysitting Michael.
Dressed in a gown and robe, Clara Wayland brushed brown hair away from her sleepy green eyes. “How was it?”
“The job went well. He seemed pleased.”
“And?”
“And I have an appointment with him at my office Monday morning. Otherwise, I’m as uninformed as ever about what he wants. Well, maybe I know a little more, since I’ve actually met him. I’ll tell you about it after I change clothes and look in on Michael. How was he tonight?”
“An angel. A happy baby who went to sleep about nine.”
“I’ve missed him.”
“You always do,” her aunt said as Grace went into her bedroom, shedding clothes and changing into cotton pajamas and a robe. She tiptoed over to look at the crib, fighting the urge to pick up the sleeping baby and hold him in her arms. A chill gripped her. There could be no good reason Nick Rafford wanted to meet her. None. She didn’t want him near Michael. She gazed at the baby, so aware of the startling resemblance to Nick. She leaned down to brush Michael’s cheek with a light kiss and caught a whiff of baby powder. “You’re mine now, sweetie. Not the Raffords’,” she whispered.
She rejoined Clara, who had fixed cups of hot chocolate. “Monday morning, you can call your lawyer to go with you,” Clara said.
“I won’t need a lawyer to just talk to the man. Tonight is the first we’ve met.”
Clara sighed. “I need to remember that you won’t let him intimidate you or frighten you into doing something you don’t have to do.”
“I don’t think that will happen,” Grace said. “He was courteous. Obviously, he wants something concerning Michael. He hired my catering service to scope me out.”
“Don’t borrow trouble,” Clara said.
“When Bart Rafford kicked Alicia out, he didn’t want anything to do with his baby. He denied the baby was his. I can’t imagine the jet-setting multimillionaire uncle has any interest in Michael. His brother never did and since Bart wasn’t killed until Michael was three months old, he had time to meet his son if he’d wanted.”
“Does the uncle have a wife and children?” Clara asked.
“No. Nick is single,” Grace said, remembering his dark brown eyes on her as he grasped her hand in their handshake. “He’s in society pages, so that’s how I know he isn’t married. He’s busy and has a reputation as shrewd in business. From what Alicia told me, at that time, the grandfather had no interest in Michael and I’ve heard the grandfather’s health has failed lately. An ailing grandfather, a single uncle—those are the only relatives. I can’t figure out what, but they want something from me concerning Michael. I’ll learn what it is on Monday morning.”
“Please call me the first chance you get. I’ll be worried about you.”
“Don’t fret,” Grace said, smiling at Clara. “Legally, Michael is mine.”
“Grace, the Raffords have an enormous fortune. You wouldn’t stand a chance of stopping them if they—”
“Don’t think about it,” Grace said.
“You’re right.” Clara smiled. “I think I’ll turn in. I wish you’d sleep in your room and let me take the sofa here.”
“I’m fine. Thanks for staying tonight.”
