Christmas Eve (26 page)

Uncomfortable with the turn of their conversation, Eve strolled across the room to study the art along another wall. "Houses in my neighborhood seldom change hands."

Nick picked up his empty glass and followed. "Sounds to me like you owe your grandparents a lot."

Her laugh held no humor. "Everything. Especially my sanity."

"This sounds like a story I want to hear, but first, let me refill our glasses."

For some unexplained reason, she wanted to tell Nick about the emptiness of her childhood, the pain of growing up she'd never shared with anyone.

He returned with two glasses and a champagne bottle in a bucket of ice on a silver tray, placed his burden on the coffee table before the black leather sofa and offered her a seat. He sat beside her, his arm casually draped over the back not quite touching her. She wished it were.

"You were saying..." Nick prompted as he poured the bubbling liquid into her glass.

"My grandfather lived in Las Vegas all his life," Eve began quietly. "Early on, when this desert oasis was just becoming known for its gambling, his grandfather made a killing in real estate. I guess you could say I'm keeping up the family tradition."

Nick shrugged. "I don't see anything wrong with that."

"My father does. He tells people his daughter earns her living 'selling dirt.' When I first heard him say that about my grandfather when I was small, he made it sound like Pops was unclean. Later, as I grew up and began to compare the two of them, it was my father who didn't fare so well."

Nick lifted his glass, swallowed slowly, his head back, then turned to her with an encouraging smile.

"Pops and Dad never saw eye to eye. My father comes from a long line of wealthy New Englanders. Princeton, Nantucket, the whole nine yards. Mom met him in college and adopted his skewed beliefs. She accepted his lifestyle as her own and always sided with him. Pops, equally outspoken, disapproved of Mom and Dad's parenting and frequently told them so."

Nick grinned and his eyes warmed again. "You must take after you grandfather."

"I hope. Pops argued my parents left me alone too much, first with governesses, and then at boarding school. I was incapable of breaking with my father's hands-off yet tight-control-of- my-life approach until I left home to go to college. He enrolled me at Bryn Mawr, where Mom received her degree. Secretly, I applied and was accepted at UNLV. The day I arrived in Las Vegas, Pops took me under his wing. Said he didn't want me beholden to my father for another cent."

At Nick's quizzical look, she hurried on. "Dad doesn't just have strange notions about old and new money. He kept trying to run my life even
after
I turned twenty-one. What I would do after college was about the only thing he ever took an interest in where I was concerned. We fought over it constantly."

"But you survived."

After a thoughtful moment, Eve plunged ahead. "Not all that well, I'm afraid. Some of my father's weird notions about money have managed to influence my life."

"Like what?"

"At an early age, I inherited his mother's estate and my father was forever telling me 'men are only interested in you for your money'."

Nick huffed. "And you
believed
that?"

"How could I not? Every young man I ever went out with had dollar signs where his heart should be. Not one of the men who earned my father's stamp of approval gave serious thought to love."

Nick's smooth knuckle caressed her cheek. "Then you never dated the right man."

"Maybe." Even to her ears she didn't sound convinced. "Those 'acceptable' men I went out with belonged to the country club set, sons of my father's friends. He was a firm believer that 'without money, a man is nothing,' and 'money opens doors'.

"But regardless of their family's high standing in the community, by our second date those socially acceptable men thought nothing of hitting me up for a loan to start their own business, one that would allow them to escape from under their father's thumb just as I was desperate to do."

Nick's appalled expression loosened her tongue more than the champagne.

"It was as if every last one firmly believed I'd gone out with him for the express purpose of securing his financial future. Not one ever spoke of love. But each of them eagerly proposed a slightly different investment scheme that would make him filthy rich overnight and free him from parental control. All he needed to do was convince me to marry him or float him a loan."

"No wonder you became cautious." She watched as he raised her hand to his lips.

"Cautious isn't the right word. Burned is a more apt description." Nick tenderly kissed her knuckles, one by one, making it almost impossible for her to speak.

Suddenly standing, he began to pace. "At one time," he said, pausing long enough to catch and hold her gaze, "I had some funny notions about money, too."

"Like what?" she asked, wondering what about their conversation was unsettling to him.

"Like, 'Money is power,' and 'Money is the root of all evil.' I was born on a run down farm, the soil too poor to even grow weeds. And grew up wanting to get my hands on some of that money Pa was always longing to own and find out for myself which one of those sayings applied."

"What made up your mind?"

He paused by the fireplace and stared at the artificial log glowing there. "Finally having more than just nickels in my pocket."

Yes, the position of concierge in a large hotel
would
pay well.

The phone rang and Nick excused himself to answer it. For a moment, he spoke quietly into the receiver, then hung up and walked to the wall. Pushing a button, he grinned at her. "Dinner is on the way up."

She glanced at her watch. Nine o'clock, on the dot.

Nick grinned again. "Our chef is always prompt."

His expression inexplicably changed. He inhaled a troubled breath, then locked his gaze with hers. "Look, Eve, I owe you an apology. The night you knocked on my door, I was expecting someone else, a call girl who never arrived. The last time I saw you, I insulted you by offering you money, and I'll never forgive myself."

"For mistaking me for a professional?" she said, a catch in her voice.

"For neglecting to mention I had fallen in love with you."

The artificial log in the fireplace was not responsible for the heat suffusing Eve's face.

Out in the foyer, the elevator bell dinged. "That will be our dinner. I should have postponed this conversation until our food arrived, but I wanted to clear the air so we could enjoy our meal."

That said, Nick hurried into the foyer, where the elevator doors opened and a waiter and busboy stepped out pushing a covered cart.

"Where would you like this, sir?" the waiter asked.

"On the table near the hearth."

Eve watched with polite interest while the two men set the table and transferred the food, her thoughts in a whirl. The busboy placed three long-stemmed yellow roses in a bud vase beside her place and stepped back. "For you ma'am. Anything else, Mr. St. Clair?"

"No, that will be all, Rex."

The murmur of voices receded as Nick strolled into the foyer to see them out.

"Are you ready to eat?"

She stood. "I wasn't hungry until those two wheeled in that cart. What are we having? Something smells delicious."

Nick pulled out her chair and seated her. "Roast pheasant, a specialty of the house," he said, surprising her with a tender kiss behind her ear, her ear lobe, then her bare shoulder.

Eve closed her eyes and let the sweet sensations roam free.

Then, leaning back into him, she sighed. Nick was everything she could ask for in a man. And more. But she would never again make the mistake of believing a man had a romantic interest in her. There was too much money heaped in her lap to make
that
mistake twice.

Nick gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, then seated himself and lifted his fork.

Eve buttered a roll. "So, if money isn't power, or the root of all evil, what
does
it mean to you?"

Call her ten kinds of a fool for pursuing their earlier conversation, but for a reason she couldn't fathom, was anxious to know how Nick felt.

He thought a moment. "Personal wealth doesn't make a man. It's a question of what a man does with the money he has. When I first inherited mine, I was afraid to spend one red cent."

Nick had inherited, too
?

"You see," he went on, unaware that her heartbeat had jump started in her chest. "I'd never had more than a dollar in my pocket that was not owed to someone else. Then, more money than I could possibly spend in this lifetime suddenly became mine."

Swallowing her curiosity about how he came into so much money, she asked, "What did you do?"

Nick looked thoughtfully at the thick bite of fowl he'd just cut. "For a while I just sat and counted it.
On paper
, that is. Then I started taking business classes at night. Like you, I didn't want someone talking me out of what was rightfully mine."

"And you spent your days..."

"Right here. I also inherited this hotel and casino."

The bite of roast pheasant Eve fought to swallow seemed determined to lodge in her throat. While her thoughts ran in dizzying circles, she downed the rest of her champagne.

"I had way too much to learn in a short time. There are a great many labor unions involved in an establishment of this size. Numerous laws for an employer to become familiar with and try not to break. And all the while in the back of my mind I knew I wanted to do more with my life, not just run a hotel."

"What did you decide to do?"

"Create jobs for people who grew up just like me, ones who have never had more than two dimes to rub together in their lives. Since this hotel was already fully staffed, it has taken a while to put my plan in place, but I'm almost there."

Eve's heart thumped against her ribs.
This hotel really does belong to Nick
.

She
'
d pictured something small, no more than twenty or thirty rooms out on Boulder Highway. Certainly not this, quite possibly the largest hotel and casino in town.

"At first, I couldn't seem to make it work, but for one reason or another, employees have a way of leaving, and my plan slowly began to shape up." He stopped talking to take a bite.

"Your... plan? "Nick's proud grin revealed more than he knew.

"I started a scholarship program at the local colleges and universities. Any promising second quarter student eligible for financial aide can apply. Once a student gets accepted, all educational costs are covered and a part-time job here assured."

Eve felt her heart swell.

"Those not suited for hotel work wind up managing one of my car washes. The least successful find themselves changing oil."

Nick was giving back to the community some of what chance had given him. Only one unanswered question remained.

She raised a bite of savory comfit nearly to her mouth, set her fork back on her plate. "There's something else I'd like to know, Nick."

His warm smile sucked the breath from her lungs. "Ask away."

Eve's skin heated. "Why... Priscilla's?"

He had the courtesy not to grin. "Still bothered about that?"

"About my behavior, yes. No wonder you thought I—"

She swallowed a sip of champagne and tried again. "You made an honest mistake and all is forgiven, but I'm curious to know why you, of all people, would need to..."

While Eve gripped the linen covered table with both hands, her face turned what must be painfully red.

"Let me guess. You're wondering why I need the help of an escort service? " Chuckling, Nick reached across the table and slowly stroked her tense fingers. "It's all right to ask and it shouldn't surprise you to learn I have a similar problem when it comes to choosing a date. The women I encounter socially all want one thing. A hand in my pocket, as deeply as it will go."

Her astonished expression caused him to grin, and he threaded her fingers through his. "Contracting for one of Priscilla's girls for an evening allows me to unwind with no strings, then see the lady to her car and send her home."

Eve blinked.
And she just walks away, part of her job
.

Surprisingly, she didn't feel as determined to do the same thing as she once had.

Turning her hand over, she stared at their entwined fingers. Her hand belonged in Nick's. She needed to be touching him, absorbing his strength, feeling his gentle touch as surely as she needed to draw her next breath and with a soft sigh of surrender she stopped fighting those needs.

"Eve, would it help if we start over?"

Nick's words stilled her heart the way his tender caress had stilled her hand. She smiled hesitantly.

"If you wouldn't mind."

Nick's thumb circling the back of her hand made her shiver and she leaned expectantly toward him.

"Hello, Eve. My name is Nick, and for the better part of a week the only thing I've been able to think about is
you
becoming part
of my life
."

Eve's heart beat stuttered. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, but before this relationship goes any further, there's something you should know, Nick. This has all happened so fast. I think I started falling in love with you the minute you took me in your arms for that first dance, but flowers and candles and music—"

"—are material things meant to open your heart, Eve. To allow the seeds of our newfound love to grow."

"I have... It has... That's what frightens me, Nick. I never believed in love at first sight."

"I never believed in love at all, until I met you."

Swallowing, Eve blinked back the tears of happiness blinding her eyes.

Now it was Nick's turn to blink. Eve watched his feelings for her take the form of a delighted smile that spread across his finely-carved face. "Eve Adohr, I love you," he said in a choked whisper.

"And I love you, Nick St. Clair, with all my heart."

The End

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