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"I know she is."

Once more, Tim thrust his fingers through his hair. "Damn it, you're stubborn."

"So you've told me before."

"Nick, why are you doing this?"

"I've already told you. I want a wife. I want a home life. I want children."

"But why this way? Why marry someone you barely know and don't pretend to love?"

Nick smiled sardonically. Tim was a romantic. Under the bluster and legal brilliance and prudence, Tim was the kind of man who really believed in fairy tales and happy endings. "Of all people, you know better than anyone what a disaster my marriage to Jill was."

"Don't pile one mistake on top of another, then."

"This isn't a mistake." Nick rose, walked to the buffet server and poured himself a cup of the fresh coffee Wanda kept in plentiful supply. He considered his words carefully. Because Tim's friendship meant a lot to him, he wanted him to understand. "Every goal I've ever set for myself, I've met, with one exception."

Tim leaned back in his chair.

"My personal life has never been successful." Just saying the words out loud made Nick feel unsure of himself, a feeling he despised. Uncertainty was for the meek, the weak, those afraid to take what they wanted from life. He'd vowed long ago, when he'd been shunted from one foster home to another, that he'd be strong, as strong as necessary, and he'd never be afraid to go after what he wanted.

When Tim still said nothing, Nick continued, "I'm forty-two years old. If I'm ever to have a family, I'd better get started." He grinned. "I don't want to be the oldest man in the P.T.A." Then he became serious again. "For the past several years, I've been looking for a suitable wife. The search has been futile. Finally, I realized the reason I was having no success was because I wasn't approaching the problem the way I tackle difficulties in business. As soon as I realized I had to apply the same successful strategy to my personal goals, everything became clear to me."

"So you decided to buy a wife?"

"Why not acquire a wife the same way I'd acquire a company? Look over her assets, her liabilities, her strengths and weaknesses, see how we might complement one another, what she can offer me as well as what I can offer her?"

Tim shook his head. "I'm not believing this."

"It makes perfect sense when you think about it. The reason my personal life has been such a failure is I've allowed emotions to rule rather than sound reasoning. That's why 1 lost my edge. That's why I failed."

"Well, I think you're destined to fail this time, too."

"Why?"

"Because in your zeal, you forgot one of the cardinal rules of business. Cover your ass."

Nick frowned.

"Think about it," Tim said. "You want me to draw up a contract that protects both her and her mother no matter what happens in the future. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"What about your protection?"

"I don't need protection from Claire," Nick said, beginning to get irritated.

"I say you do. As your legal counsel, I say if you're insistent about going through with this scheme, at the very least you need a full-fledged prenuptial agreement that not only spells out what you're going to do for her but guarantees what will happen if she doesn't live up to her end of the bargain."

It irritated Nick that Tim was right. Nick couldn't imagine entering into any other kind of business deal without a written contract. Perhaps in the old days a man could depend upon another's word, but this was the twentieth century and things were no longer so simple.

"If this really
is
a business deal, then surely you see the advisability of doing it perfectly. As a matter-of-fact, I don't think you should sign anything until Ms. Kendrick has a physical examination. How do you even know she can have children?"

Damn. He should have thought of that himself. What if she
couldn't
have children? Reluctantly, he said, "1 know you're right. Okay. Set it up."

"Will she agree to it?"

"Yes. I'm sure she will."

Tim jotted some notes on the legal pad he held. "We'd better make this agreement airtight. If we don't, and something should go wrong, this dame could take you to the cleaners."

Nick stiffened. "Don't call her a dame. Her name is Claire," he said tightly.

Tim's brown eyes met his for a long moment. "All right. Sorry. Anyway, Claire could marry you, have your kid, divorce you, then take the kid as well as half of what you own."

Nick hated to admit Tim was right on all counts. Although he didn't want to believe Clarie would ever renege on a promise, people
did
change. Sometimes even the best intentions evaporated when things didn't go the way you expected them to go. He sighed. "You're right. Get started on drawing up the contract."

Tim rose. "Good. But I still think this is the craziest idea you've ever had."

* * *

Claire liked Nick's doctor. At first, she'd balked at having the physical, but after thinking about it, she realized Nick's request was reasonable. If, for some reason, she was unable to bear children, he had to know. So she kept the appointment, had the physical, and was told she was in perfect health.

"I see no reason why you can't have a dozen children," Dr. Ardale said. "You're a very healthy young woman."

Claire left the office knowing Nick would be pleased when he received the report from the doctor.

She was still walking around in a kind of rosy glow, even though she'd had ten days to get used to her new status as Nick Callahan's fiancee. At least once every thirty minutes she'd lift her hand, moving it back and forth so her engagement ring would catch the light, watching the way it sparkled with fiery brilliance. From the day she'd said she would marry him, her life had turned upside down, each day bringing some new delight to savor.

Nick had insisted that everything concerning their engagement and wedding be done exactly right. She thought back over the long conversation they'd had the Sunday after she accepted his offer. They had spent hours discussing how and when each event would take place. Claire envisioned a small wedding, but Nick had other ideas.

"We'll have an official engagement party in two weeks. Can you give my secretary a list of the people you'd like invited by Tuesday?"

An official engagement party? What would she wear? But in a few minutes, that question was answered.

"Tomorrow I'll have Wanda call the different shops and establish a line of credit for you." He mentioned places Claire had only read about—shops that carried designer labels where one item might cost more than her entire wardrobe. "You're going to need a lot of clothes because many of my friends and business associates will want to have parties for us. You'll also need a couple of furs, but don't buy jewelry. That's something I'll take care of."

As if she would have, Claire thought, totally bemused.

"I'll also have Wanda investigate and recommend a bridal consultant for you to work with. With someone good you should be able to have everything done and ready for a June wedding. What do you think?"

Claire didn't know what she thought. Her mind was whirling.

"My sister Natalie will be coming in for the engagement party. She lives in Los Angeles."

Claire remembered reading somewhere that he had a sister. But her research into his background had yielded little else about his private life.

"When you go into work tomorrow, give Ken Boudreaux your two weeks' notice. You're going to be too busy to work from now until the wedding."

"I don't want to quit working!" Claire protested.

"You won't have enough time to get ready for the wedding if you continue to work. Besides," he added, "it wouldn't be fair to my other employees to have you there. It would put them in an awkward position." He smiled, which took the sting from his words. "Didn't you realize you'd have to give up your job if you married me?"

"I ... I guess I hadn't thought that far ahead," Claire admitted. He was right, she knew he was right. But she didn't have to like it. She began to feel as if a steamroller were mowing her down. Her carefully disciplined life was toppling faster than she could keep up with it.

So she'd given her notice, and now she only had three more days to work. And in four days, the big engagement party would take place. My second big hurdle, she thought, knowing she'd leaped the first with her positive report from the doctor.

She looked at her engagement ring again. Prisms of light and color dazzled her.

There would be a lot of hurdles to get over in the next months, she knew, but only one really frightened her: her wedding night.

Could she pull it off? Could she make love with Nick without love between them, without letting her own emotions go out of control? Because Claire had decided that no matter what her feelings were, she would stick to the spirit of their agreement. She knew if she allowed her emotions to rule her, she would put a strain on their relationship. He would begin to feel guilty because he couldn't offer her love, and then her position would be untenable. He might even begin to avoid her.

No, Claire thought. I want this marriage to work. I want him to feel comfortable around me. I don't want him to regret his decision to marry me. I've made a bargain and I'll stick to it. And if that means keeping my feelings hidden, so be it.

* * *

The party was going quite well, Nick thought, as he watched Claire talking to his sister, Natalie. With half an ear turned to Howard St. Martin's excruciatingly boring description of his latest African safari, he murmured encouragement at appropriate intervals, but his attention was centered on Claire.

She looked heart-stoppingly beautiful tonight. Her sea-green chiffon and lace dress was the perfect foil for her Dresden china beauty. He'd hardly been able to tear his eyes away from her since the moment she'd stepped across the threshold and into his home. When she'd smiled, shrugging out of her sheared beaver jacket, one of three furs he'd insisted she buy, and he saw her in the gossamer dress studded with tiny pearls, she had taken his breath away. The smile was radiant and he'd felt a surge of pride and possessiveness, knowing he was responsible for her obvious happiness. Her face glowed; she looked healthy and rested. Gone were the dark circles that she'd worn throughout the weeks she'd worried about her mother and her financial problems.

Now, as he watched her with Natalie, he was struck by the difference between the two women, yet pleased that they had seemed to like one another instantly. Natalie, like him, was tall, thin, and dark. Her gleaming ebony hair held a hint of silver at the temples and she was deeply tanned. Unlike his eyes, which he'd inherited from their mother, she had the dark brown eyes of their father. Natalie fairly vibrated energy and enthusiasm. She was a non-stop talker and a chain-smoker, a habit Nick had tried to get her to give up. He knew her husband, a brilliant neurosurgeon, had tried equally hard, but Natalie resisted all their blandishments.

"It's my body," she said stubbornly, dark eyes flashing.

Tonight, she looked striking in a black and white taffeta dress with dramatic lines that emphasized her angular, model's figure. To look at her, no one would ever guess what her background was. She looked like a jaded, petted, rich woman who had never done anything harder than play a rousing game of tennis. Nick smiled, remembering how different their lives used to be, how much he owed his sister. How much he would always owe her.

Now that he thought about it, she and Claire were alike in the important ways. Each had a fierce love of family and a strong sense of loyalty. And neither was afraid of hard work.

Now Claire laughed at something Natalie was saying, and Nick watched the way she tipped her head up and slightly to the side. Nick's breathing quickened as his eyes swept down the long line of her throat and rested on the sweep of her rounded breasts. She looked so cool, so elegant, so classically pure.

He smiled to himself. He had wondered if Claire, with her outward look of serenity, would be a responsive lover. He would have been able to live with it if she were passive, as long as she were willing. After all, the main reason he wanted a wife was to give him children. He didn't need passion as well.

But from the first moment he'd kissed her, he'd known she would be not only satisfying, but exciting and enthusiastic. In fact, the kiss had shaken him. He hadn't expected to enjoy it as much as he had, and he hadn't wanted to stop with the kiss. She'd been so sweetly willing and desire had raged through him, but he'd called on all his willpower and self-control to keep that desire banked. He had no intention of bedding her unless and until she was his legal wife. Tim might think he was crazy, but Nick was nobody's fool.

But soon she
would
be his wife. In three and one-half short months he would have the right to kiss her and touch her in all the hidden places, to take her mouth and her body and claim them for his own. To make slow love to her and watch her eyes as she flowered under his touch. To turn the cool, ladylike Claire into a trembling, eager lover.

"Nick, you're not listening," Howard said peevishly.

"What?" Nick looked at Howard, but his body felt taut with desire. The erotic images he'd conjured swirled in his mind and, suddenly, the months until his wedding day seemed like eternity.

* * *

"Well, Claire, when Nicky called me to tell me he was getting married, you could have knocked me over with a feather!"

Claire smiled at Natalie Bernstein. She couldn't get over how much she liked Nick's older sister. She'd been so nervous about meeting her, picturing someone who would be coldly suspicious of the unknown woman who had managed what so many women had been unable to pull off—snagging Nick Callahan. Claire knew that Nick hadn't told Natalie of their bargain. In fact, that had been one of Claire's conditions when they'd discussed the terms of their bargain. And he readily agreed, saying the only person who would know was Tim Sutherland, his lawyer, who was drawing up the prenuptial contract.