Nancy Holland - Owed - One Wedding Night

“No.” That was true enough. “But with my trust fund, we’ll manage.”

He leaned forward in his chair, arms on the desk. With an effort she managed not to draw back, away from the masculine energy of his body.

“And how to you plan to pay back this loan? Out of Dartmoor’s profits? Unlikely, any time soon. Out of your salary? I don’t think so.”

“Jake, I have a photo of you at my christening.” He flinched, probably at the image of himself as a bored, but adorable four-year-old in a stiff black suit. “If you loan us the money, you know I’ll pay you back, no matter what happens.”

“I doubt either of us will live long enough for you to pay me back that kind of money out of your paychecks.”

Somehow Jake must have missed the news that she’d finished her MBA at the top of her class. She sat up a little straighter. She might not have made much in the short term if she’d taken any of those jobs, but in a year, ten years, she’d have been earning the money to pay him back several times over. A man as smart as he was could figure that out. Maybe he wasn’t ready to accept that he’d been wrong when he tried to veto her plan to go to business school.

The impulse to run away that had lurked at the back of her mind ever since she entered the building took over. She set both feet on the floor, ready to stand up, when she remembered that this time it wasn’t about her. It was about her mother and saving the family legacy.

She sat back and crossed her legs. If she had to stay, the best defense might be a good offense.

“If you’re worried I might stiff you for the money by dying, I could take out a life- insurance policy for the full amount and make you the beneficiary. If I pay you back most of it and something happens to me, you’d make a nice profit on the deal.”

He scowled. “That’s not the point. The point is that a loan implies an ability to repay the money. Frankly, I can’t see how that’s supposed to happen. Maybe your MBA will take you right to the executive suite.” She flinched, but he didn’t notice. “Or maybe you’ll get laid off or have an employer fail on you, and then where would I be?”

“Still filthy rich.” Not exactly the right attitude when she was asking him for such a big favor, but the man knew how to push her buttons. All of them.

“So you want me to give you the money for old times’ sake?” He leaned back in his chair and looked her straight in the eye.

She shook off the shattering impact of his gaze, impatient at her inability to keep the past behind her.

Apparently he couldn’t forget what they’d shared either. But she couldn’t believe he’d refuse to help because their wedding plans had fallen through. That didn’t sound like the Jake she’d once adored. She searched for that Jake in the face of the stranger in front of her.

“Is that what you would have said if it was my mother sitting here?”

“Not in those words, no, but whatever I said to her would have led to the same outcome – no loan.”

“What about half that amount?” It was better than nothing.

He shook his head.

The clang of a cable-car bell found its way up from the street below. She took a calming breath against the anger that simmered just below the surface.

“I expected better of you, Jake. I expected you to at least look at my plan to turn Dartmoor around.”

“Because?”

“Because you’re a fair man. And you know I will repay you, no matter what.”

He shrugged and picked up a pen from his desk with a this-conversation-is-over gesture.

“I think we all learned a long time ago that I am the last person to predict what you will or will not do.”

She leaned forward, hands on the edge of his desk. “I’m not asking you to do this for me.” No power on earth could make her stoop that low. “I’m asking you to do it for my mother.”

“I won’t be doing it at all. I was always fond of your mother, but this is business.”

She sank back. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected from Jake, but certainly more than that icy dismissal. When he didn’t say anything more, she reluctantly gathered her purse and briefcase to leave, mind already searching for other ways to get the money.

She was halfway out of the chair when he said, “Madison.”

She sat back down and lifted her head.

“Tell your mother I’m sorry.”

“I'm sure she’ll find that a great comfort when they liquidate her family business because you refused to help.”

His eyes narrowed as he stood. “You never do know when to shut up, do you?”

Anger propelled her to her feet. She would not let him loom over her like a predator over its prey.

“Maybe not, but I do know refusing to marry you was the smartest thing I ever did.”

On that blatant lie, she turned to walk out.

“Madi.” The old nickname came unwanted to Jake’s lips. He couldn’t let her go. Not with those words hanging in the air between them.

She turned. Hope battled with wariness in her sea-green eyes as she waited for him to say something. But what?

He needed time to think. To adjust to having her so close he could smell her perfume – the same exotic French scent he remembered, full of unspoken promises. So close he could see the little worry line between her eyes, could touch her…

“Dinner,” he said.

She frowned.

“I don’t have time to listen to your plan now. Let’s have dinner tonight. I can look at what you’ve come up with then and decide whether it can turn Dartmoor around and make a loan viable.”

A glow lit up her face.

“I’m not making any promises.” He just wasn’t ready to let her walk out of his life again.

The light in her eyes dimmed. “Of course not.”

“The Yacht Club?” His turf – and the opposite of romantic.

“Sure. What time?”

“Seven.” That would give him time to have a drink in the bar first. He’d need it. “Do you want me to send the limo for you?”

“No.”

He thought he heard an echo of disappointment in her voice. She couldn’t have expected him to pick her up. This wasn’t a date. It was strictly business. Suuuure it was.

“I haven’t had to sell the Ferrari yet.”

Her sad smile twisted his heart.

“Oh.” He’d refused to let her return his engagement gift after the wedding fell through. What would he have done with the damned car? And she loved it so much.

Her smile faded as they stared at each other for a moment too long. Long enough for the good memories to outnumber the bad. For him, at least.

Luckily his cell buzzed noisily before he could do or say anything stupid.

“I'll see you tonight.” Her voice told him nothing.

He nodded and took his call, all too aware of the door closing behind her as she left.

He couldn’t settle down to work after he ended the call. He walked to the windows and gazed down at the busy parade of people on Montgomery Street, the heart of the San Francisco financial district, several floors below. His father had preferred the office next door overlooking San Francisco Bay, but Jake had switched his office with the boardroom when he took over Carlyle's. The Bay was his father’s escape, an escape that eventually proved fatal and made Jake President and Chair of the Board before he was thirty.

The darkness of those days lingered. The tinge of Madison’s perfume that hung in the air was an aching reminder of how he’d longed to have her comfort and strength beside him through it all. But she’d made her choice. She’d chosen business school and left him at the altar.

Which is why Jake preferred Montgomery Street. It put the past behind him, where it belonged. The energy of the busy street below recharged him, motivated him, drove him. He needed all that and more after the scene with Madison.