Millionaire's Woman: The Millionaire's Prospective Wife / The Millionaire's Runaway Bride / The Millionaire's Reward

He turned with two plates, putting one in front of her and sitting beside her as he began to eat. ‘Eat, Cory,’ he said softly. ‘We can talk another time. Don’t worry.’

She risked a glance at him and then wished she hadn’t. She wanted him. She wanted him so much. She reached for a slice of toast and put a little of the scrambled egg from her plate on it. Mechanically she began to eat. Another time he had said. So she didn’t have to say goodbye today. It was worth the migraine.

CHAPTER SIX

CORY sat staring at the case file spread out on the desk in front of her but her mind was miles away. Should she have taken the bull by the horns and said something before Nick had left yesterday? She’d had plenty of opportunities because he had stayed most of the afternoon.

She wriggled in her seat. But it had been so nice, she wailed silently. Special. She had lain with her head in his lap on the sofa and he had stroked her hair as they had talked a little and dozed quite a lot. He had been tender and gentle and relaxed; it had been one of the few times when she’d been with him and had not been assailed by a hundred and one different emotions, all of them disturbing.

He had looked after her, she thought with a feeling which was half pain and half pleasure. He hadn’t thought of his own needs at all; he’d just been wrapped up in caring about her.

The phone on her desk rang and she picked it up automatically, still thinking of Nick. ‘Miss James. How can I help you?’

‘I can think of a good few ways and all of them X-rated.’

‘Nick?’ She could hear the warmth in her voice herself and tried to moderate her tone as she continued, ‘What are you doing ringing at ten in the morning?’

‘Enquiring how my favourite girl is,’ he said smokily.

Cory shut her eyes. She could just picture him sitting at his desk, black hair slicked back and face freshly shaven. He would probably have discarded his suit jacket as soon as he’d got to the office and for certain his tie would be hanging loose. He hated the constriction of a tie. She took a deep breath. ‘More or less back to normal, except for feeling ridiculously tired, but a few early nights will fix that.’

She wondered if he’d picked up on the subtle hint that she wouldn’t be seeing him that night. She had known as she’d waved him goodbye the evening before—after a kiss which had set her toes tingling, never mind the rest of her—that she had to cool things down rapidly. It was time to take a big step backwards and maybe if she did that he would do the same. If this relationship could just wane naturally it would all be for the best. Wouldn’t it?

‘Sure,’ he agreed lazily. ‘Best thing.’

She frowned at the phone. He wasn’t supposed to say that. And then she caught the pique, angry with herself for her inconsistency. She wanted him to bow out of her life gracefully on the one hand but on the other she wanted him to fight tooth and nail to see her every moment. She was a bundle of contradictions and she was driving herself mad, never mind Nick. Nevertheless her voice was cool when she said, ‘That’s what I thought.’

‘The other reason I’m ringing is to say I’m out of town for a few days from this afternoon. I’ve been putting off a trip to Germany for some time but certain reasons make it imperative I go this week.’

‘Oh, right.’ Suddenly the sunshine streaming through her office window was less bright, the sky less blue. ‘I…I hope it goes well,’ she said in a small voice.

‘It will.’ He sounded positive and forceful and clearly couldn’t care less that for the first time since they’d been seeing each other they would be spending some time apart.

Cory was suddenly furiously angry with him. She knew it was unreasonable but she couldn’t help herself. She also knew she had to wait a moment before she spoke because the last thing she wanted was for him to pick up on how she was feeling.

‘Cory? Are you still there?’

‘Yes, sorry. Someone was handing me something,’ she lied quickly.

‘I’d better not keep you any longer. Look after yourself and don’t work too hard. I’ll ring you.’

‘Yes, all right. Bye.’

‘Bye, sweetheart.’

The receiver went click at the other end but Cory stared at the phone in her hand for some seconds before slowly returning it to its stand. Sweetheart. She couldn’t remember him calling her that before and his voice had been different when he’d said it—warm, soft, as though he’d really meant it.

Stop it. She was thinking again and she thought too much. She had decided action was the only answer to this incredible tangle she’d got herself in, and action spelt distance in this case. She just hadn’t expected it would be Nick who would do this distancing. But that was fine, just fine. It was. It had to be.

Nick rang just as she was getting into bed that night. ‘Cory? It’s Nick. I haven’t got long but I wondered how you’re feeling. Headache still under control?’

She sat on the edge of the bed stupidly, her mouth opening and shutting, her heart pounding at the sound of his voice. She hadn’t expected him to call. ‘I feel fine,’ she said at last, her voice thankfully steadier than she felt. And then, as a burst of laughter came down the line, she added, ‘Where are you?’

‘Out to dinner with some people. Sorry, it’s a bit noisy but it’s the first chance I’ve had to call.’

‘You shouldn’t have bothered.’ That sounded awful. ‘You’ve plenty to think about without worrying about me,’ she qualified quickly.

‘Perhaps I want to worry about you,’ he said softly, or as softly as the background din would allow. ‘Anyway, it’s unlikely I’ll be able to call the next day or so and I wanted to tell you to keep the weekend free. I’m taking you somewhere.’

‘Taking me somewhere?’ She was so surprised she forgot to tell him she couldn’t possibly go. New regime and all that.

‘Somewhere nice.’

‘Somewhere nice?’

‘Cory, you’re repeating everything I say,’ he said patiently. ‘Look, I’ve got to go.’ The noise swelled even more. ‘I’ll see you Friday evening. Pack a bag.’

‘Nick—’

‘Dream of me.’ It was husky and deep and she felt the impact trickle over her nerves like warm honey. ‘Only of me.’

‘Nick—’

‘Because I’ll be dreaming of you, especially now I’ve seen exactly what I’m missing.’

Cory blinked. She had been quite impressed that he hadn’t mentioned her faux pas yesterday; she might have known he couldn’t keep it up. ‘That was below the belt,’ she said with what she hoped was haughty displeasure.

‘Below the belt, above the belt, I saw it all.’

She knew he was grinning. She could hear it in his voice.

‘And very nice it was too. More than nice…’

She heard someone call his name. A female voice.

‘Look, I have to go,’ he said quickly. ‘They’ve brought us out for dinner after a meeting that went on for hours; they’re so hospitable.’

Yes, well, they would be, wouldn’t they? Cory thought waspishly. She bet ‘they’, whoever they were—and there was certainly one woman among them, at least—didn’t get many British visitors who looked like Nick Morgan. ‘Nick, about this weekend—’

‘Bye, sweetheart.’ The line went dead.

Two sweethearts. Cory stared at the carpet. Two sweethearts and a weekend away somewhere. This was definitely the lead up to the big seduction scene. Maybe he had even planned the trip to Germany to make her miss him and be more receptive when he got back?

And then she immediately dismissed the thought, telling herself not to be so cynical. Nick wasn’t into mind games the way William had been. If she didn’t believe that she wouldn’t still be with him.

But she couldn’t go away somewhere, to a lush hotel or whatever, and then tell him that far from sleeping with him she actually was going to end their affair. She would have to talk to him as soon as he got back to England; failing that, when he arrived to pick her up on Friday evening. That was if he didn’t call her again in the meantime.

She rubbed her hand across her face to wipe away the tears seeping down her cheeks. How would she bear not seeing him again? How was she actually going to say goodbye? But far better to do it now than in a few months, a year, even a couple of years, by which time she would be unable to exist without him. This was self-preservation at its rawest.