Love Script (29 page)

She meant to leave, but he prevented her by placing his hands on the armrests of her chair, trapping her in her seat. “I need you to listen, dammit.” He shrugged uncomfortably. “I know this isn’t fair to you, but I need you, Laney. I can’t do this without you.”

Her frown softened a little. She so hoped he would say the magic words that would fix everything between them. “What do you need?”

“I need you. . .” His gaze held hers for long seconds. “I need you to host a dinner party with me for the Zelmans.”

Her gaze went frosty.
“You want me to what?”
She could not believe what she was hearing. “I can’t believe you. Have you learned nothing from al this?

You and I can barely be in the same room together, and you want me to continue this farce with you?”

“This is the last time.”

“How do you know that, Nick? What if Wil cal s you a week from now and invites us to dinner?

What wil you do then?”

He dragged a hand through his hair. “I’l figure something out.”

“And if you do get his account, what happens when he finds out you real y aren’t married? He’s bound to find out, you know. You can’t keep something like this a secret forever.”

“Laney, I’m wil ing to compensate you for your time—”

“It’s not about the money, Nick!” She pushed aside his hands and stood, virtual y feeling the steam coming from her ears. “I only did this to get a promotion. It was never about your damn money. I’m not like the women from your past. I won’t settle for whatever you throw at me. You can’t buy me off. I don’t want your money, and I don’t want anything to do with you!”

“Lower your voice. Do you want the whole world to know about this?”

She gasped. “Oh, I wouldn’t
dream
of exposing you, Nick.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

“The last thing in the world I would want to do is let anyone know you were involved with
me
.”

“Damn it, Laney! I didn’t mean it like that.” There was a beep from his phone before his secretary’s voice could be heard. “Excuse me, Mr.

Sinclair, but you have Kimberly Dawson on line five.

She’s confirming dinner plans.”

Nick swore. “Linda, tel her I’m in a meeting.”

“Yes, sir.”

Laney shook her head at him. “Don’t let me keep you. You should take that cal .”

“We aren’t finished.”

“Yes, we are. I’m leaving.”

Nick moved to stand in her way. “Wait.” He held his hands up in surrender. “Forget Heidi. Forget Kim. Tel me what you want me to do. I know I’ve offended you in the past and didn’t handle things wel between us. I see that and I apologize. Just tel me how I can make it up to you.” He pul ed her hands to his chest. “Whatever you want, I’l do it. I just need this last favor from you. I can’t have this dinner without you.”

It was a dark moment. In that instant, Laney understood that furthering his career by scheming his way into the Zelman account was more important to him than she could ever be. Her heart ached from the truth, and she fought to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “I’l do this for you, Nick, under one condition.”

“Anything.”

“I never want to see you again.” She withdrew her hands from his. “Never.”

“Laney, be reasonable—”

“You can e-mail me the details for the dinner; I promise I’l be there.” She walked to the door. Just before leaving, she paused. “For the record, I’m more valuable than you think.”

And with that magnanimous statement, she left the room, closing the door softly behind her. She had official y washed her hands of him. He told himself he should be thankful, but he wasn’t. It was becoming harder and harder to watch her walk away from him.

❧ ❧ ❧

She was thankful Danny was not at home when Nick’s limo parked in front of her apartment building; she had no doubt he would have had a fatal heart attack. But the grandeur of riding in a limo did not compare to the splendor she was about the behold.

The car merged into its far lane and turned onto a scenic road that flowed through mature trees. For a moment, Laney felt a little disoriented. Large masses of trees, with the exception of decorative palm trees, were a rarity in San Francisco. With such a high ratio of people and limited land, homes were practical y built right on top of each other. The trees didn’t stand a chance.

She leaned closer to the window, trying to get a better look, wanting to figure out their location. It was nearing sunset and the view was dim, but she was just able to make out what she thought was a golf course. Aside from that one time she’d tried her hand at golf with Nick on the cruise ship, she’d never so much as held a golf club. So she wasn’t familiar with the locations of various golfing ranges surrounding the city or the neighborhoods they resided in. She got her first clue when the car veered right onto El Camino Del Mar. She knew instantly where she was. They were headed toward Sea Cliff, one of San Francisco’s more pricey neighborhoods.

She knew she was right when she lowered the window and could hear the rush of the Bay somewhere in the distance. She leaned back in her seat, as the car wove its way smoothly down the curvy road. She closed her eyes and tried hard not the think about what was to come. Whether she liked it or not, she’d promised Nick she would come. And in exchange he promised to keep his distance. She would hold him to his word.

The car slowed as it emerged from the canopy of trees. It crawled past five houses before turning left into a drive. Laney craned her neck to get a better look, but her view was blocked by a thick wooden security gate. It was impossible to see anything from this angle, which is what she suspected was the purpose of the gate.

The driver was talking into a speaker. The conversation did not last long, and within seconds, there was a clicking sound and the gate began to open. Laney’s eyes grew large as Nick’s estate unfolded before her. The car ascended a short drive that opened onto a lush, manicured lawn. He had a yard. Not just a sprinkle of shrubs, he had a real yard with ful shade trees and an elaborate garden with beautiful fragrant flowers which wrapped around the side of the house. Tal bushes lined the wal s, encasing the property’s perimeter. It felt like she’d been dropped into another world, leaving the noise and bustle behind for this calm, luxuriant greenery.

The house itself, built snugly into a rocky hil side, was an exquisite example of English Tudor with Gothic detail. It was a mansion that had been revitalized recently. From this angle she guessed it was three stories, but it could be more. It was hard to say, since the home continued down the hil and out of sight. Without question, the home was stunning.

But what was even more impressive than the grand exterior of the house was what loomed ahead of her.

Since the house was built into a hil , there were no neighbors behind the property. Instead, there was a clear, unobstructed mil ion-dol ar view of the Golden Gate Bridge floating above the Bay. It was sunset now, and the fading sunlight shimmered off the water surface, making it look like waves of golden glitter.

The view alone made the house priceless. An older gentleman

with

neatly

combed

white

hair

approached the car, opened the door and gave her a kind smile.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Sinclair. I’m Jeffery.” Jeffery, whom she assumed was some sort of manservant, saw to her things and led her into the main foyer. It was beautiful. She could spend hours staring at it, but one glance at Jeffery told her time was of the essence. She was quickly introduced to Nick’s housekeeper. Laney didn’t catch her name; she was too busy admiring the numerous artworks strategical y placed throughout the home, peeking into the living room and catching glimpses of the bridge from nearly every window. She was ushered to a guest bedroom upstairs. Upon delivering her things to her room, Jeffery announced that Nick was just leaving a meeting and would be home shortly.

He nodded and exited the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

So Nick had his entire household in on his
scheme?

It felt odd to be in Nick’s home. Like his office, it was spacious and tasteful y decorated, everything in its place. It was perfect. But there was something off-center. In the short time she’d been in the home, she thought,
this is the home of a bachelor
. Although it was obvious he lived here, the large home felt slightly neglected. It lacked any real warmth. It lacked a woman’s touch. It would be a decorator’s dream, but it gave the empty impression a model home might, pretty but nondescript. Clearly, a herd of decorators had dressed the home from top to bottom with little or no direction from the owner.

Laney supposed if they’d planned this more thoroughly, she could have brought over some personal items, pictures and such. She instantly reprimanded herself for even considering the idea.

This was Nick’s lie to weave. She was determined to forever disassociate herself from this charade.

She’d arrived a few hours before the Zelmans were scheduled to appear. Taking her time applying her makeup, she slipped on her dress last. She wore a gold dress, which hung off her shoulder. She liked this dress, as it complimented her shape without confining her, which was her preference tonight, seeing as she hadn’t been feeling wel lately.

She admired herself in the mirror, assessing herself from different angles. Although she didn’t feel it, she wanted to look nice tonight. Not because Nick would be there, but because. . .because. . . Her mind went fuzzy and she thought about the first night they’d slept in the same room, the night he’d insisted they kiss. The press of his soft lips against hers had made her feel smal and helpless. The memory of it was just as potent. She lifted her fingertips to her mouth and pressed them gently against her lips. Her eyes closed, and she could almost taste his kiss.

“You look beautiful.”

She jumped. Laney whirled around to see Nick leaning against the threshold. She took in his neatly pressed suit. During their time on the boat together, she had grown used to seeing him in casual clothing.

“Thank you,” she said. “You look nice.”

“I clean up wel .”

She turned away from him to give herself one last look-over in the mirror.

“Thank you for agreeing to do this, Laney.” She responded by nodding her head.

“Laney.”

He whispered her name against her ear. She hadn’t realized he had moved. His tal form pressed behind her, the sudden heat from his body making her shiver. She couldn’t move, could not even deny him should he plan to take her right here.

He was about to say something when a soft voice murmured behind them.

“Mr. Sinclair,” Nick’s housekeeper cal ed from the doorway. “Your guests have passed the gates; they wil be here momentarily.”

“Thank you.” He looked down at Laney. “Are you ready?”

She nodded, refusing to look at him.

“You’l need these.” Taking her hand, he careful y slid her wedding rings on her finger, applying his own before offering her his arm. The look they shared spoke volumes. He broke the tense moment with a weak smile. “May I escort you to dinner, Mrs.

Sinclair?”

She accepted his arm, needing the support. His nearness was a drug to her senses, and she leaned into his side as he guided her down the staircase.

For the next few hours, they belonged to each other.

She would cherish every moment.

Laney welcomed Wil iam and Vivian Zelman with a bright smile. Both kissed her on the cheek, embracing her like a close family member. Vivian was especial y ecstatic to see her.

“Laney, it’s so good to see you again!”

“Thank you for coming.” She said, laughing. “I hope the drive here wasn’t too painful.” Vivian waved her hand in the air. “We would have been here sooner if Wil hadn’t insisted on driving himself. He always gets lost.”

Wil iam shrugged. “You make one wrong turn and she won’t let you forget it.”

Laney patted his arm. “Wel , we’re happy to have you over. Please come in.” Laney looked over her shoulder, not entirely sure where they should go.

Placing his hand on her hip, Nick guided her toward the formal living area. “Please make yourselves at home.” He indicated a comfortable settee to their guests. “Dinner is almost ready.”

“Oh, do you cook, Nick?” Vivian leaned forward with interest.

He gave a rakish smile. “I prefer to watch safely from the sidelines.”

Vivian smiled. “You and Wil have a lot in common.” She looked around the room. “Laney, I love what you’ve done to your home. Did you decorate it yourself?”

Laney looked around the room. It was a work of art. Deep ambers and reds, with a touch of gold, were complemented by rich textures and smooth leather. It was very romantic and distinctly masculine.

“I had a little help,” she said vaguely.

“That’s an interesting piece.” Wil iam Zelman pointed to a painting on the wal . “Is that a Bel ika?” He was looking at Laney when he asked this question.

Laney looked at the painting for the first time, her confusion obvious.

“Actual y, it’s a McAl ister.” Nick pretended to look guilty. “I’m afraid I purchased it without my wife’s approval.” He rubbed Laney’s thigh affectionately.

“The artist is Coda McAl ister; he’s out of New York.