The CEO Buys in (Wager of Hearts #1) (28 page)

It wasn’t a mistake. It was a disaster.

He needed to tell Miller and Archer to back off, and then he needed to gain back the ground he’d lost with her.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said into the silence. “I shouldn’t be so ungrateful. It’s lovely of you to want to buy me pretty things and football tickets. I want you to know I appreciate it.”

Now she was apologizing. Chloe, who never backed down from him. He needed to get things back to normal. “I wasn’t being nice. I was being an arrogant ass who tried to force something on you that you didn’t want. Tell me I’ve forgotten how real people live or something along those lines.”

She started, and turned to look up at him with a question in her eyes. He gave her his best master-of-the-universe look. Her gaze went soft and nearly undermined his determination to provoke her back into her usual tart self.

“Being generous doesn’t make you an arrogant ass,” she said, grazing her hand down his arm to lace her warm, slim fingers with his. He felt her touch right into his core. “You just need to keep it in proportion.”

“I guess I’ve lost my sense of that,” he said, wondering how true it was.

She smiled. “It must be hard not to when you’re you.”

As she touched up her lipstick in the ladies’ room mirror, Chloe tried to regain her balance after the emotional roller-coaster ride she’d just taken. She’d excused herself on the way to the table because she was finding it hard to breathe when she was anywhere near Nathan. His revelations and her reactions kept rolling over her like tidal waves.

On top of that, she had to face his two famous friends and the gorgeous women with them. Yes, she felt intimidated. If this were Nathan’s office, she’d be fine, but the social setting made her feel out of her depth.

She tucked her lipstick back in the shiny clutch and squared her shoulders under the blue lace. At least she
looked
like she belonged here.

She walked out of the ladies’ room only to be pulled up short by the sound of Nathan’s voice coming from behind her. She spun around, but he wasn’t in the subtly lit hallway. She started toward the sound, the heels of her crystal-studded Jimmy Choo d’Orsay pumps clicking on the marble floor as she tried to figure out where he was. The sign for the men’s room indicated it was around the corner in the opposite direction, so that wasn’t the source. She took a few more steps and spotted a partly open door. She hesitated, wondering if she should interrupt what might be a private conversation since he’d chosen to have it in a private room. Then she heard her name.

“Chloe’s a smart woman,” Nathan was saying. “She’s already asked me what’s going on. So lay off the interrogation, Miller.”

“Will you tell her about the bet, or will that be our little secret?” That was Gavin Miller speaking, amusement coloring his tone.

Chloe froze. They’d made some sort of a bet about her?

“I say keep it to yourself.” Luke Archer was in there too. “It might just make her mad.”

The quarterback was part of it as well. And he thought she’d be mad.

“Why wouldn’t she be flattered to know she won the bet for you?” Miller asked. “By the way, I can see why you chose her. She’s got that certain something. Well done.”

It sounded like Nathan had deliberately picked her for something. Was it about seducing her? Had he told them about that? Anger and humiliation welled up in her chest.

“You’re both getting way ahead of yourselves.” Nathan’s voice sliced sharp. “I’ll take Chloe home right now if you don’t back off.”

“Hey, talk to Miller, not me,” Luke said.

Gavin’s laugh felt like it was pounding against her temples. “You’ve got it bad, my boyo. I’ll behave, if only so I can watch you guard your Chloe like a dog with a bone.”

“You’re an idiot,” Nathan said, but he sounded more irritated than angry.

Chloe realized the discussion was ending and she needed to get out of there. Moving fast in the sky-high heels wasn’t easy, but she managed to reach the safety of the ladies’ room before the three men came out of their powwow.

She sank down on the same vanity stool she’d vacated a few minutes before. She could feel hot, furious tears welling up in her eyes. Would Nathan really have talked about sex with her to his two
acquaintances
?

She couldn’t believe that of him. Yes, he was arrogant and overbearing, but he wouldn’t share their intimacy. He wasn’t that kind of man. It had to be something else. She gulped in a few deep breaths to fight back the tears. Gavin had at least pretended not to be aware that she’d temped for Nathan, so he didn’t know even the basic details about their relationship.

Then what on earth was the bet about?

She couldn’t sit in the ladies’ room much longer or Nathan would wonder what was wrong. She forced herself to stand up even though her knees felt wobbly. As she searched for her courage, Nathan’s words echoed through her mind. She’d given him things he hadn’t gotten from anyone else. The knowledge sent a surge of reinforcing strength up her backbone.

She smoothed the exquisite blue lace of her dress down over her hips. No stupid male bet was going to keep her from having her Cinderella moment. She would admire all the beautiful clothes, enjoy every bite of gourmet food, and tuck away memories of her conversations with all the famous people. Taking one last look in the mirror, Chloe walked out of the ladies’ room and into the glittering crowd.

Although it was well after midnight, Nathan leaned on the railing of the terrace, gazing across the Hudson. The big river reflected the lights from both shores while a few sparkling stars managed to compete with the million-kilowatt glow. A sharp, chilly breeze flattened his shirt against his chest, making him shudder.

He stared into the night, knowing Chloe was there across the river, tucked into her bed. Would she dream of him, or would the distance he felt widening between them tonight send her dreams in another direction?

He gripped the cold metal of the railing as he frowned. Something had happened during the evening to make her pull away from him. All during dinner, he’d caught her slanting looks at him. And they weren’t the kinds of glances that said she was thinking about sex in the Rolls. Although when they finally got away from the damned party, she had responded to his touch with an almost desperate abandon that had surprised him. She’d seemed to be channeling some pent-up emotion into making love. He just couldn’t figure out what that emotion was.

Miller and Archer had stuck to their promises, carrying on perfectly normal conversations with Chloe. She’d held her own with them, even though on the way to the dinner she’d confessed to being nervous. An odd sense of pride swelled inside him. His Chloe didn’t let anyone intimidate her.

Including him.

She still hadn’t invited him to dinner with her grandmother. He respected her love and concern for Grandmillie, but it was putting a roadblock in their relationship. There had to be a way to get around it.

His smile faded as a realization hit him: Chloe didn’t want to get around it. She showed no signs of frustration at having to snatch a few hours here and there with him. He was the one who kept badgering her for more time together.

Straightening away from the railing, Nathan paced back and forth across the tiled floor, reliving every minute of the last two weeks with Chloe. He examined each encounter, allocating words and actions into imaginary columns marked “she cares” or “she doesn’t.”

He stopped as something twisted in his chest. The final tally was inconclusive.

Pivoting on his heel, he walked back inside. There was one thing he could do to tip the scales in his favor.

Nathan walked down the hallway, trying to remember where the family sword was stored. Chloe wanted him to bring it to the wedding as a peace offering to his father. The irony of that was not lost on him.

He paced through the downstairs rooms, looking for the wooden case that held the antique artifact. Most of these rooms were used for business and charitable entertaining, so he didn’t spend much time scanning the decor. The living room, dining room, and media room were a bust. He knew it wasn’t in his office or den. That left the library, a room he’d expended some thought on setting up but then rarely occupied. As he entered, the aroma of leather and paper made him inhale in appreciation. He’d become so tied to his electronics that he’d forgotten the delights of physical books. He scanned the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, enjoying the glint of gold leaf on bindings.

And there it was, sitting in its own niche on the shelves—a simple mahogany box, long and flat with two polished brass hasps secured with matching padlocks.

The sight of it churned up a storm of emotions. His earliest memories included that wooden container. It had been kept in the family china cabinet in every house they lived in. His father would open the cabinet’s glass doors and lift out the box, placing it reverently on the dining room table. When Nathan was a little boy, he’d stood on a chair as his father unlocked the small padlocks and opened the hinged lid to reveal the sword and scabbard nestled in the custom-made compartments lined with blue-black velvet. He had learned the simplest version of the sword’s story as soon as he was old enough to understand the words. As he grew older, his father added more and more detail until Nathan could repeat the sword’s entire history.

On his twelfth birthday, Nathan had been given the solemn and weighty responsibility of caring for the sword. His father had handed him a flat, featherlight package wrapped in blue-and-gold-striped paper. Nathan opened it to find a pair of lint-free cotton gloves. He’d known immediately what they signified, since he’d watched his father wax and oil the sword while wearing a similar pair many times. His heart had leaped at this rare sign of his father’s trust.

Of course, the trust had lasted only about two years. Once he and his father began their battle over Nathan’s future, Nathan deliberately shirked his duty as sword polisher. He’d never done damage to the sword, though, even at the height of hostilities. He could be grateful for that.

Nathan walked over to the shelf and lifted the box down the way his father had, placing it on the huge leather-topped desk in the center of the room. The key lay on top of the box, since there were no children in his house who needed protection from the sharp blade. Or vice versa.

The brass of the key and the padlocks gleamed in the soft light of the overhead chandelier. Probably Ed’s handiwork. Ed respected the sword as much as the general did. Removing the padlocks, Nathan flicked open the hasps and raised the lid.

He was struck by how utilitarian the sword was. In his memories, it glowed in its nest of velvet. But this was a weapon that had been used in battle on a regular basis. There were nicks on the blade to prove it. The basket hilt was dull steel with a tint of ancient rust, and its curlicues were not delicate ornaments but bold swirls and bars meant to protect its owner’s hand from an attacker’s slashing blade. The brass scabbard was a little fancier and more polished because it had been an officer’s sword, but it also showed the scratches and dents of daily use.

His father had explained that you didn’t strip clean a sword like this, because that would wash away its history. You oiled the grip and waxed the blade to preserve its integrity for the next generation. And Nathan had done just that for two years, first with his father coaching him through the steps, and then with his father simply sitting with him, sharing their heritage.

Nathan felt a clench of emotion at the back of his throat. He’d forgotten those times when the two of them would talk as he wiped the sword down with a soft cloth. His father had told him stories of his childhood, of his military training, and even of some of the missions he’d taken part in, although those were heavily edited. Nathan had shared information about school and sports and even his friends. He’d never discussed his fascination with technology, though. That topic brought a tightness to his father’s jaw that Nathan had learned it was better to avoid. But those infrequent afternoons had been good ones.

That was what Chloe and her grandmother had all the time.

Nathan gazed down at the sword as he let the memories flow over him. Then he went rummaging through the desk drawers until he found what he was looking for: a box containing lint-free cotton gloves, baby oil, kerosene, a jar of carabellum wax, and several clean cloths. He’d known Ed would keep the supplies near the sword. Lifting the supplies out of the lowest drawer, he shook out the folded piece of felt that lay beneath them, spreading it over the desktop before he pulled on the gloves.

He slipped his fingers under the hilt and blade of the sword and laid it on the felt. Opening the jar of wax, he dipped a cloth in it and began to apply it to the blade with a touch so gentle the sword lay motionless on the felt.

Chloe shoved the last bobby pin into her neatly twisted bun and scanned her reflection in the mirror. The foundation was doing a decent job of lightening the circles under her eyes. The last twenty-four hours had been tense and sleepless because she’d alternated between trying to persuade herself she wasn’t in love with Nathan and wondering exactly what his bet was about.

How stupid was she? She’d known from the beginning that their relationship had an end date. Chloe just wished it wasn’t so soon and that she didn’t have to be the one to break it off. Although Nathan clearly wasn’t in love with her, she kept remembering his statement that she’d brought joy into his life. As ticked off as she was about the existence of the bet, she still hated to cause him pain. Because she didn’t want to hurt the man she loved.

With a huff of angry exasperation at herself and Nathan, she picked up her lipstick and carefully applied the rose color before tucking the tube into her Alexander McQueen handbag. She couldn’t help running an admiring finger over the bag’s metallic surface. Then she opened her closet door to check every detail in the full-length mirror.

It was extraordinary how much taller she looked because of the perfect fit of the dress. The sky-high heels lengthened her legs and gave her more height. She arranged the blue wrap around her shoulders, appreciating the way it brought out the blue touches in the dress and the shoes.

This was the armor she wore to face Nathan and his father.

She picked up the purse and went out into the living room to twirl in front of Grandmillie.

Her grandmother pursed her lips and nodded her approval. “I guess those designer clothes do have something special about them. Not that I approve of the ridiculous prices, but that dress looks like it was made for you.”

“I feel like a million bucks,” Chloe confessed. “Fortunately, the outfit didn’t cost quite that much.”

Grandmillie snorted out a laugh before a look of sadness crossed her face. “I wish you could buy prettier clothes for yourself all the time.”

Chloe came over to kneel beside her grandmother. “No matter how great a job I have, I’d never be able to pay for this myself. I only agreed to buy this because I didn’t want to embarrass Nathan in front of his father, especially since they have a strained relationship. I feel like I’m going to be examined under a microscope.”

The sound of a powerful automobile engine signaled Nathan’s arrival. Chloe gave Grandmillie a quick squeeze of the hand and an air kiss before she straightened. “Time to join the jet set.”

“Cinderella going to the ball,” Grandmillie said. “You deserve it.”

Chloe scooped up the handbag and headed for the front door. The bell rang just as she turned the knob to open it.

The Nathan who stood on her front porch was every inch the CEO in a tailored navy suit, a white shirt, and a red power tie. The gleaming waves of his hair were subdued, and his black wing tips shone like mirrors. Even his face seemed carved into commanding angles.

“In full intimidation mode, I see,” Chloe said, although her heart and her pulse leaped at the sight.

That loosened the tense set of his jaw. He gave her an appreciative scan and then brushed his lips against her cheek. “You are every inch my match.”

“Me, intimidating?” Chloe shook her head, but she liked the idea.

“Beauty can be very formidable.” He stepped into the foyer and glanced through the door to the living room. “May I say hello to your grandmother?”

“Of course.” Chloe led the way through the door.

“You look worthy of my granddaughter,” Grandmillie said.

He smiled and Chloe blessed her grandmother as the tension in his shoulders eased a bit more. “That’s a high compliment,” he said with a slight bow. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a business card and handed it to Grandmillie. “Dr. Cavill will be at the wedding, so I wanted to give you his partner’s direct phone number, just in case you need it. Please don’t hesitate to call for any reason at all.”

Chloe held her breath, but Grandmillie didn’t throw the card in his face. Instead she read the name on it. “Dorothy Scott. Nice solid name, and a woman. I like that.”

Chloe cast a grateful glance at Nathan. She’d arranged for their neighbor Lynda to stop in a couple of times to check on her grandmother, but this was an extra level of care. Evidently Grandmillie was willing to accept it from someone other than Chloe.

He tucked Chloe’s hand in his elbow. “We should be back by eight at the latest.”

“I wish your father much happiness,” Grandmillie said. “He’s fortunate to get a second chance.”

Chloe felt Nathan stiffen as he nodded.

He escorted Chloe out the front door and to the Maserati, opening the door and handing her in. As he steered the car down the narrow residential street, he reached across the gearshift to take her hand in his. Chloe used her other hand to trace along his knuckles. She loved the texture of his skin, the cradling strength of his grip, and the sense of connection she felt.

“I brought the sword,” he said.

She twisted around to see a long, flat leather case lying on the backseat. He’d listened to her. “I think it’s the right thing to do. The family sword should be a part of an important family celebration.”

His grip tightened. “
Celebration
might be too happy a word.”

“He must be so nervous,” Chloe said.

“The general, nervous?” He slanted her a glance of disbelief.

“He’s going to be a father again after thirty-odd years.”

“Fatherhood didn’t bother him. He just went on as he always did, steamrolling over everyone in his path.”

“Remember what Grandmillie said about second chances? Maybe he’s hoping to be a kinder father this time.” She paused. “I won’t say a
better
father, because he did something right in raising you.”

He squeezed her hand before letting her go to steer the car through traffic. “I suppose he was a good example of what I didn’t want to be.”

“Sometimes that can be as useful as a role model.” Chloe took a breath. “Maybe he just couldn’t understand that you weren’t like him. Your talents drew you in a direction he hadn’t even thought of.”

“He’s never once come to Trainor Electronics,” Nathan said. His jaw looked as though it was carved from granite.

“So he’s as stiff-necked and stubborn as you are.” But Chloe’s heart broke for him. He’d built something spectacular, and his father wouldn’t acknowledge it with his presence. “But you’ll never convince me he’s not proud of you.”

Nathan made a sound of repudiation. She hoped that the loan of the sword would soften the general’s attitude toward his son. The man must be an idiot if he couldn’t see how magnificent the child he’d raised had become.

“What’s the story behind the sword?” she asked.

“Family lore claims the sword was given to General Nathanael Greene by a British officer who served under Cornwallis in the Revolutionary War.”

“Is that who you’re named after?”

He shook his head. “My name comes from a Confederate general, Nathan Bedford Forrest, whose career my father particularly admires. He was a brilliant tactician, his men loved him, and his name struck fear in his enemies’ hearts.”

“He sounds like a good namesake. But tell me the rest of the sword’s history.”

“The officer gave Nathanael Greene his sword because he was impressed with the superb strategy General Greene displayed in retreating.” Nathan gave a bitter laugh. “Greene presented the sword to one of his subordinates for bravery on the battlefield. That subordinate happened to be my ancestor, William Trainor.”

“Did they actually use it, or is it one of those dressy swords for show?”

“It was used in battle. You can see the nicks and scratches and dents. It’s called a three-quarter basket hilt sword, made by Samuel Harvey.”

She was impressed. “So it must be valuable even apart from your family’s connection.”

“More than you know,” he said with an odd note in his voice.

He swung the car onto an access road that led to a manned gate, showing his ID to the guard who waved them through. They drove around a hangar, and there was the now-familiar black-and-silver Trainor Electronics jet standing on the tarmac. Nathan slotted the car into a marked space along the hangar’s wall and twisted toward her in his seat. “Would you humor me with something today?”

She didn’t trust his too-guileless smile. “That depends.”

He reached into his pocket and brought out two Tiffany boxes. “I would like you to accept these as a loan just for today. Then you can return them to me.”

“Forgive me for being suspicious,” Chloe said, not moving to take the proffered packages, “but I still have a whole pile of Saks Fifth Avenue boxes in my closet that haven’t been returned.”

“I’ll have everything picked up on Monday. You have my word.” He continued to hold the blue boxes out to her. “I’d like to see if my choices suit you. Just for my own satisfaction.”

“I’m on to your tricks,” Chloe said. But it seemed ungracious and even unkind to refuse when he was so on edge. “But I’ll pretend you fooled me this time.”

She put one of the boxes in her lap and untied the white satin ribbon from the other one. Inside lay the sapphire-and-diamond bangle from the auction. Chloe touched the sparkling stones with her fingertip. “Your bid won.”

He took the open box from her. “Now the other one.”

She tugged the ribbon free and lifted the lid to reveal the matching earrings. “I have to admit, these are perfect for this dress.”

Gratification lit his eyes. “My thought exactly. However, if you prefer to wear your pearls, please don’t feel obligated to wear these.”

The cultured pearl studs she wore were no match for Nathan’s gift. She removed them and hooked the Tiffany earrings through her lobes.

“Let me help you with the bracelet,” Nathan said. He deftly flicked it open before fitting it around her wrist and snapping it closed. He held her wrist to admire the bangle, his long fingers warm where they lay against her skin. With a swift movement, he lifted her arm to brush a kiss on the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist, his breath tickling across her hand. “Thank you for indulging me.”

As she watched the bracelet send a confetti of light dancing around the car’s interior, Chloe knew it was herself she was indulging, and in more ways than wearing expensive jewelry.