Unexpectedly His(52)
Marianne spun through the revolving glass doors of the Morgan building and practically into the arms of a man she recognized from the firm’s casino night.
He reached out to steady her. “Marianne, right?”
She blinked twice and resettled the horn-rims against her nose. “Yes, I’m—”
“Going to see your fiancé,” he said. “I’m Drew Evans. I work with Nick.” He ushered her away from the door and glanced down at the basket swinging from her elbow. “Lunch, huh? Lucky guy.”
She tightened her grip on the basket. Drew Evans might be smiling at her, but he didn’t seem friendly. He seemed more like a man with an agenda. “I’m the lucky one.”
“Seems like it,” Evans tilted forward and lowered his voice, “considering how Nick pulled you out of thin air.”
Her brows knit together. “I don’t under—”
“No need to play games, Ms. McBride.” He looked over his shoulder and then back to her, keeping his voice quiet. “That was quite a show you put on the other night.”
“A show?” Unfortunately, his agenda was becoming as clear as the sky outside.
“Pretty good at cards for such a casual player. Made me think you might be good with numbers, so I did a bit of research.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I think we both know good with numbers is an understatement.”
Her uptown girl training kicked in, and she gave him a beatific smile that failed to reach her eyes, but telegraphed her cool disapproval to perfection. “Nice to have met you, Mr. Evans,” she said, making a move toward the elevator, needing to tell Nick, to warn him.
“Not so fast, Marianne.” Evans took a small step to block her path. “I know all about you and your not-so-squeaky-clean past.”
Marianne’s heart lodged in her throat. This could not be happening. She’d been avoiding the idea that her father’s conviction could touch Nick. After all, she wasn’t a trader anymore. Besides which, their engagement was only temporary. But now she saw it was naive to think she could avoid a guy like Evans, even for six weeks.
His gaze took in her discomfort, and he smiled. “I’ve heard all the accusations that you were a dirty trader like your jailbird father, a garden-variety criminal all wrapped up in an angelic, buttoned-up package. But you’re not so buttoned-up, are you?” He took a step back and straightened his tie, a mocking gleam in his eye. “I know you’re smarter than to think your dad’s conviction won’t kill the Nickster’s partnership dream. Once the board hears about daddy’s indiscretions…well, let’s just say, they are pretty conservative around here.”
Her entire body trembled in anger. “Go to hell.”
“Tough words from such a nice girl.” He lifted the top of the basket, peeked inside, and let the wooden lid drop down with a soft whack. “Enjoy your lunch.”
She watched him walk away. His words stung, but the truth of what he said hit home. Determined not to hurt Nick or be the cause of his partnership circling the drain, she decided to forget the steamy picnic. Instead of warning Nick, she’d go back to his apartment and clear out now before his colleague destroyed Nick’s dream of a partnership.
Her heart might be broken, but his would survive. Let Nick tell the firm that she’d withheld the information, which, if she was honest with herself, in a way she had. Let him say he’d broken it off because of her deceit, that he was reeling from the end of his engagement, ready to devote all his resources to the firm.
#p#分页标题#e#
Or maybe Jane could find him a second temporary fiancée who didn’t have an unremitting scandal chasing her, one who could offer a long-term relationship, and a chance for a real love. The thought of Nick falling for another woman caused hot tears to form in the back of her eyes. But he deserved love. Even if he didn’t know it, Nick was a man capable of real, true love, the kind Marianne finally understood. Hiking the picnic basket against her elbow, she walked back through the revolving doors to catch a cab back to SoHo, determined to pack up her six-week fantasy.
Her inner siren had gotten more than she’d bargained for when she’d popped out of that three-tiered cake. She’d been looking for a chance to bust out of her shell—to test drive her inner sex goddess and challenge her statistics and by-the-book ways. But Marianne McBride, part numbers girl, part seductress, had gotten so much more. Despite her intentions and plans, she’d fallen inescapably, irrevocably in love with her temporary fiancé. Temporary.