Bid Me Now (10 page)

Bree’s brow shot up. “
Affable
! What the fuck is affable? My God, the Jamieson man-proof veneer has been breached. One coffee and one affable dinner. I guess he won’t be demolishing the mill after all.”
 

Miri shifted in her seat and prepared herself for the inevitable. “We discussed it.”

“
And
?”

“It’s complicated.”
 

Bree opened her mouth to retort but promptly lost interest when Abe slid a platter of eggs benedict in the middle of the table.

“No more talk about dates and mills until after breakfast,” he warned, “or I’ll take it away.”

Miri silently thanked him. The man deserved a medal. She couldn’t believe she was so hungry. Piling two large English muffins, two eggs, and three large slices of bacon on her plate, she smothered the lot with hollandaise sauce and loaded her fork, aware that Bree and Abe were gaping at her. “What?” She scowled. “I’m hungry.”
 

Abe winked. “Burn some carbs last night, did we?”
 

Miri swallowed and poked her tongue out at him. At least they had lost interest in the topic of Nick.
 

It lasted a good ten minutes. “Miri, what about I write a feature in the
Charmford Chronicle
about the mill’s demolition?”
 

Miri looked up warily. “What brought that on?”
 

“To be honest, Alex called the paper and suggested it. You never know, it might help if Brannagh Enterprises knows the town is concerned about the demolition. The mill being a local landmark and all.”

Miri frowned. “Not a good idea, Abe.
 
They’re locked into a deal. Anyway, you’ll be far too busy covering the Maddison-Baxter society wedding this Saturday to be writing about mills.”
 

Abe groaned. “Don’t remind me. No one else in the office will do it. Bad luck for the bride and groom that their lunatic families don’t get on. It’ll be like a Hatfield marrying a McCoy. I ask you, is this a job for a talented journalist?”

“Find me one and I’ll ask him,” offered Bree from behind her paper.
 

“Hey, you’ll have Bree there with you. It’ll be fun,” Miri said.

Abe pulled a face. “Ya think? You
are
talking about the scary bridezilla buster?”
 

Bree lowered her paper and edged her bottom lip out in pretend hurt. “How can you say that, dearest?”

“It’s easy. I think it, and it comes out of my mouth.”
 

“Ha, ha. Maybe you should take your shower now?”
 

With a chuckle, Abe got to his feet. “Real subtle, princess. Okay, I’m off. Bree, you’re on cleanup duty.”
 

 
Bree leaned forward and fixed Miri with one of her laser-like stares. “Have you given up on the idea of owning the mill?”

Miri braced herself for the interrogation. “There will be
no
art studio at the mill. It’s finished.” She knew Bree wouldn’t let it go. Her friend wanted her dream almost as much as she did and, since the accident, had become overprotective.
 

“I don’t believe it!”

Miri got irritable. “He can’t sell the mill to me, even if he wanted to. They have contracts with suppliers and the land developer. Nick explained it to me last night.”

Bree’s hands went up, followed by a disgusted snort. “Oh, well, of course, contracts! How could we be so stupid not to realize? Have you thought he might be bullshitting you?”

 
“He’s not. He told me from the first he couldn’t sell. It’s not like he led me on about it.” Miri’s irritation gave way to petulance. “Anyway, it’s his property and he can do what he likes,
can’t
he?”
 

“Well, if you ask me, it’s effing strange that you lose the mill to a company that wasn’t even in the picture, then the owner starts romancing you. For all you know, he might be married.”

“Alex says he’s not married and besides, he’s not romancing me. It was just dinner. Please leave it, Bree.”
 

“Marisa, you’re the most cautious, most sensible person I know. But you’ve completely lost it over this guy. Can’t you see that?”

Miri didn’t want to see it. She was tired and uncomfortably full, and her hormones weren’t running on cautious and sensible. She put her dishes in the sink. “I’ll be working in the studio all day. Please thank Abe.”
 

Grabbing her mug of coffee, she was halfway out of the kitchen when she heard Bree give a loud sigh of frustration. Turning toward her closest and dearest friend, Miri tried to control her exasperation. “Bree, it really doesn’t matter. I’ll probably never see him again anyway.”
 

But even as the words came out of her mouth, Miri prayed they weren’t true.
 

• • •

Miri was hotter than the Sahara.
 

All day Nick had tried to delete the memory of last night, but it kept replaying in his head like some erotic dream stuck in rewind. He couldn’t believe she had wanted it so bad. He couldn’t believe he had turned her down. That had been a first. And hot damn, it would’ve been good. Good, followed by a major guilt trip. The little angel might have been more than willing, but no way was after-dinner car sex her normal.
 

As it was, he blamed himself for what had happened. Parking away from her house had been a mistake, but it had seemed the best way to get around the problem of her nosy roommate watching them from the window. No, he should have walked her to her door, kissed her on the cheek, and left it at that. But after that second kiss in his car, he was gone. It was all he could do to finally pull his brain out of his pants and put a stop to the whole thing. Not in his wildest fantasy — and he’d fantasized about her for days — had he ever pictured her doing that.

He checked his watch. Just after nine. Walking out to the balcony of his suite, he stared moodily at the harbor. A day of flip-flopping over whether to call her was wearing the hell out of him. But calling her would put him past the point of no return. There’d be no walking away from her. She was the serious, commitment type, and he wasn’t. With Miri Jamieson, there would be dates and flowers and going to the movies. That’s what she’d expect, and truthfully, that’s what he’d want for her. Was he up for that?
 

He picked up his cell.
 

She answered with a soft “hello.”

She sounded sleepy. Maybe she was in bed in her old-fashioned pajamas. Nick ordered himself not to ask. “Did I wake you?”
 

She gave a small gasp of surprise. “Nick? Oh, no, you didn’t wake me. Not at all.”

“Did you sleep well last night?”
 

“No, I hardly slept at all.” She paused, and her voice dropped a little. “What about you?”
 

“The same. Took me hours to settle down.” Totally true. He’d had to settle himself twice last night and once this morning.

“Sorry about that,” she answered with a small laugh. “You did seem quite unsettled, as I remember.”
 

She was flirting. “Right. So, any particular part of the evening stand out for you?” Hell,
he
was flirting.
 

“Well, there was that part where you…” She trailed off.

“Where I what?”

“You know,” she said, her voice so low he wondered what was coming next. “Where I offered you my cherry.”
 

Nick closed his eyes, remembering how her tongue had traced along her lip. He was unsettled again. Damn, she was good. Damn, he had to know.

“Where are you?”
 

“In bed.”

Shit. “Pajamas?”

She gave a small laugh. “No.”
 

Was she naked? Every cell in his body urged him to find out. Fuck, he shouldn’t do this. Just another frustration that he’d have to settle.

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, did you finish your sculpture?”

“Uh-huh, late this afternoon. It feels so liberating.”
 

“And are you pleased with it?” He needed this. The distraction. Otherwise, he’d have to drive over to her place and liberate the hell out of her.

“What? Oh, yes, it’s not bad,” she answered, as if she hadn’t been listening. “But don’t forget you agreed to be a nude drawing model.”
 

He could hear the soft, teasing smile in her voice. “So I did. When would you like me to come?”

Nick groaned inwardly when she laughed. “Anytime you like, Mr. Brannagh.”
 

He paced the room. He was
not
going to do phone sex with Miri. Dammit, he was going to be a gentleman and ask her for a date.
 

“Sounds good. Aside from art classes, will you have time to meet me for lunch tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? That’s Monday.”

“Yeah.” Was he missing something here? Did she not do Mondays?

“I can’t. We’re installing the Egg Beater,” she clarified.
 

“What about Tuesday?”

“Tuesday?”

“Yeah.” If he had to keep going through the week until she was free, he’d do it. It might take awhile, but he’d do it.

“I can’t because the unveiling is on Tuesday evening, and I’ll be getting things ready.”

Nick opened his mouth to suggest Wednesday when she added, “Would you like to come?”

Come? No problem. “Sure. What time should I pick you up?”

“No need, because I’ll be there early. The unveiling is at eight-thirty at the medical center, so anytime around then would be fine.”

“Great. I’m looking forward to seeing you and the Egg Beater. Very much.”

“Ditto. I mean, I’m looking forward to seeing you, too.”
 

Nick heard a small, stifled yawn. “Right, well I guess you’ll need a good night’s sleep, so I won’t keep you.” She needed her sleep. He needed a cold shower and an hour of ESPN.

“Oh, you’re not keeping me up.”

 
No, but she was keeping him up. He had a fair idea she knew that. “Still, you must be tired.”

“Kind of. Nick.” Her voice was drowsy now.

“Yeah.”

“I lied.”
 

“Really?”

Her whisper caressed his senses like liquid silk. “I’m in my PJs.”

“’Night, Ms. Jamieson.”

“’Night, Mr. Brannagh.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

“It’s magnificent, Miri. You are extraordinary!”
 

Miri put on her most patient face as Marcus paced around the
Circle of Life
for the umpteenth time, lifting the cover every few steps before dropping it and starting on a fresh circuit. He was gushing, but Miri didn’t mind too much. She was proud of this piece and thrilled that her client loved the work.
 

“How did you get the proportions so perfect?”

“Just lots of hard work. Luckily, the installation went without a hitch.” Thankfully, the assembly had been straightforward, but all the same, it had taken five hours to carefully bolt each section together and do the final polish. With two artist friends as helpers, Miri had scampered around playing anxious overseer which, as one of her helpers had put it, reminded him of a demented chicken on uppers.
 

 
She sighed and adjusted the cover for something to do. Running on nervous tension for the past three days and having had very little food this afternoon had her lightheaded. In the next forty-five minutes, ninety people would cram the lobby, and she would need to be on bright-and-chirpy host duty.
 

“I’m so pleased you like it and that it’s installed before the center officially opens. When will that be?”
 

Making conversation with Marcus was starting to wear on her. As nice as he was, she wanted to be left to her thoughts, and that mostly involved thoughts of Nick.
 

“Around two weeks at the most. Just a couple of offices for Lockarts to complete, but the medical facilities are ready.” He took a step forward, making Miri take an uneasy step back. “I was so sorry to hear that you missed out on the mill. Did Nick Brannagh change his mind?”

Miri had hoped to avoid this conversation. “Sorry, what do you mean?”
 

“Well, that was why you met with him at Jean-Paul’s,
wasn’t
it?”
 

Miri caught the accusing tone in his voice. “Oh…yes. No, he didn’t change his mind.”

Marcus frowned. “Pity. But at least you can put it all behind you now, and you don’t have to see him again. I didn’t like the look of that guy.”

Miri shifted uncomfortably on her satin wedges. This was the time to open her mouth and confess all. But the words didn’t want to come, so she stared down at her shoes, flexing each foot as if checking for fit.
 

“We should toast your masterpiece while it’s just the two of us.”
 

Miri brought her head up to find Marcus inches away, holding two glasses of champagne. For a moment she thought he wanted to link arms, but he held a glass out for her to take. “To the
Circle of Life
,” he said with a happy grin.

Miri laughed and took a sip. “Aka the Egg Beater.” She turned around to stare longingly toward the kitchen behind the reception area, listening to the clatter of stainless steel and crockery and the faint hum of the caterers’ voices. Maybe she could escape to the kitchen on the excuse that she was hungry.
 

“You look beautiful tonight, Miri.”
 

What? Miri spun back to face Marcus, who was inches close, her hair slapping him across his face. Marcus was so different tonight. Intense and, frankly, straight-out unnerving. If he was about to ask her out again, she would definitely make an excuse to go to the kitchen.
 

“Thank you. I bought this dress in London.” True, her dress was beautiful. Even the fussy Alex had approved. In brilliant crimson, the stiff, ballerina-style tulle skirt fanned out around her ankles, contrasting prettily with the fitted silk bodice with its low-cut back and red piping.
 

Miri shifted on her wedges again and checked her watch. Just after eight o’clock, which meant that Bree and Abe would be here any minute if they’d followed her orders to arrive early. Alex would, as usual, make one of her fashionably late entrances. Then sometime after that Nick would appear. She hadn’t heard from him since Sunday, so he might have changed his mind. Of course, if he came, he would be one big distraction for the whole evening. But dammit, she wanted his big distracting self. The thought of him made her feel a little weak. Definitely time to escape to the kitchen for food.