“Mother.” Andrew sighed.
“Speaking of the cad, I haven’t seen him yet this evening. Do you think he’ll forgo his usual appearance with his bimbo du jour?” Lucy asked Andrew hopefully.
“I’m sure he’ll show up soon,” Andrew answered repressively. “He always does. And you will behave yourself, won’t you, Mother?”
Lucy’s smile was sweet enough to cause cavities, her expression perfectly—and suspiciously—innocent. “Of course, darling. Don’t I always?”
Andrew thought maybe he’d better end this conversation before his mother em
barrassed him further in front of Nicole. Not that Nicole seemed at all put off by Lucy’s barbed comments; judging from her expression, she was highly entertained. Andrew had already decided that Nicole had a rather wicked sense of humor lurking beneath that demure-looking exterior. What else would he learn if he spent more time with her?
He turned to her with carefully concealed determination. “Have you tried the dessert buffet in the other room yet?”
“No, but I’ve been told there are some positively sinful dishes on it.”
“Want to find out if those rumors are true?”
She smiled. “I can resist anything but temptation,” she murmured.
He almost groaned. Instead, he took her arm. “If you’ll excuse us, Mother—”
“Of course. You kids run along and get acquainted.” Lucy watched them leave with an eager hopefulness that Andrew noted ruefully. He only hoped Nicole hadn’t noticed. The way his mother was acting, one would think he’d never managed to get an attractive woman’s attention before.
Apparently she, too, had concluded that Nicole Holiday was unique.
2
AT ELEVEN FORTY-FIVE, Nicky Holiday stared into a gold-framed beveled mirror in the elegantly appointed ladies’ lounge and reminded herself that Cinderella had never been her favorite story. She’d always been one to take charge of her own life, rather than wait for some rich, handsome prince to come along and free her from her problems. She took care of her own family because she wanted to, not because she was ordered to. And she was the one who tended to do the rescuing.
So what was she doing whiling away the evening with a rich, handsome prince?
She’d joined the McClains this evening on a lark. They’d invited her to accompany them when they learned that she had just returned to town and hadn’t yet made plans for New Year’s Eve. Since she’d never been to this exclusive club, curiosity had propelled her to accept their invitation. Her decision certainly had nothing to do with their broad hints that she could use a wealthy husband to take care of her.
Joyce, of course, considered herself speaking from experience. A distant cousin of Nicky’s late father, Joyce had been raised with little money and fewer social connections. She’d met Norvell when she was a nurse and he a patient in the hospital where she worked. She’d had him all but roped and tied by the time he’d left his sickbed. Joyce hadn’t worked a day since she’d married thirty-five years ago, except to further her climb up the social ladder.
But when Nicky married, it would be for true love, not money. She hoped to marry someday, and loved the idea of having her own family. Family was very important to Nicky. But she’d never found anyone with whom she could envision spending eternity. In fact, she’d broken off her last serious relationship simply because she’d abruptly realized that she couldn’t imagine looking at his face across the breakfast table every morning for the rest of her life.
She’d begun to accept the possibility that she would remain single—and that was okay, too, she’d told herself. She was definitely not angling for a rich husband—not even one as attractive and intriguing as Andrew Colton Tyler III.
Touching her lips with a fresh coat of smudgeproof scarlet lipstick, she thought about the man who had stayed so close to her during the past hour and a half. She’d found him a pleasant enough companion for the evening. Easy on the eyes, a good dancer, an interesting enough conversationalist, if a bit stiff.
And the dazed expression in his eyes when he looked at her was certainly flattering. A much-needed boost to her ego, which had taken a few direct hits during the past couple of years.
Joyce had drawn Nicky aside for a moment to whisper that Andrew was considered the hottest catch in this part of the country. Single, rich, successful. He’d inherited his position with his company, had climbed the ladder of power with a speed that had been granted him initially because of his name and lineage. And yet he’d earned respect and admiration from his associates. He’d worked very hard, made the company even more successful than it had been when he’d taken over. And he’d gained international attention with his uncomproanising brilliance and competence.
Andrew, Joyce had suggested with less than subtlety, could prove to be the solution to all of Nicky’s problems. Nicky had only laughed and allowed Andrew to lead her back onto the dance floor.
It was obvious that he was taken with her, but Nicky didn’t try to delude herself that it was anything more than physical attraction. She knew she looked her best that evening. She’d deliberately dressed to fit in with the upscale crowd. Only she—and Cousin Joyce, of course—knew how deceptive her sophisticated, restrained, high-brow facade really was.
She told herself she really shouldn’t string the poor guy along any further that evening. She’d almost be willing to bet that once he got to know her, Andrew Tyler would take to his expensively shod heels. She harbored no illusions about where this chance encounter was headed. Nowhere. And she didn’t really mind, since Andrew wasn’t exactly her type, anyway. A bit too stuffy and regimented for her taste. Too predictable.
Even if he did have absolutely beautiful sky-blue eyes behind the lenses of his practical, executive glasses. And, oh, could he fill out a tux!
She checked her appearance one last time, and wrinkled her nose as she glanced at the primly upswept hairstyle of the woman in the mirror. Definitely not her usual style. And then she glanced at her watch. Ten more minutes until midnight. She supposed she should rejoin the festivities.
Andrew was waiting only a few feet from the door to the lounge. He smiled when he saw her. She’d noted earlier that his smile, attractive as it was, didn’t particularly soften the somewhat stem lines of his handsome face.
She’d bet that most of his employees found him rather intimidating. She didn’t—but then, she wasn’t easily intimidated.