Brides and Grooms Box Set: Marriage Wanted\Bride Wanted\Groom Wanted (17 page)

“I haven’t
got
time,” the tall, stocky man said. Don
Griffin was in his fifties, and beginning to show his age.

“Is there a reason we need to rush?” Nash hated surprises. If Don’s ex-girlfriend was pregnant, he didn’t want to find out about it in the courtroom.

“Yes!” the other man shouted. “There’s a very good reason. I hate this constant fighting, hate having my reputation raked over the coals in the press. Twenty-seven years of marriage—and after one indiscretion, Janice makes me look like a serial murderer. The restaurant’s receipts actually dropped ten percent after that story was leaked.”

Nash didn’t know who was responsible for that, but he could make an educated guess. Janice Griffin’s attorney, Tony Pound, stirred up controversy whenever possible, especially if it helped his case.

Nash made a note of the lost revenue and decided that when he phoned Tony later this afternoon, he’d tell him Janice’s compensation might not be as big as she’d hoped—not if the business failed due to negative publicity.

“If it goes on like this,” Don continued, “we may be filing for bankruptcy next.”

“I’ll make sure Mr. Pound learns this.”

“Good, and while you’re at it,” Don said, waving his finger at Nash, “do what you can about me seeing my daughter. Janice can’t keep me away from Amy, and this bull about me being a negative influence on our daughter is exactly that—bull.”

“I’ll arrange visitation rights for you as soon as I can.”

“See if I can have her this weekend. I’m going to the beach and Amy’s always loved the beach.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Is there anything else?”

His client paced, rubbing his hands together. “Have you seen my wife and daughter recently?” he asked.

“No. That would be highly unusual. Is there a reason you’re asking?”

“I…I was just wondering how they looked, that’s all. If they’re well.”

It was there in his eyes, Nash saw, the way it always was. The pain, the loneliness, the sense of loss so strong it brought powerful men and women to their knees. Nash thought of these moments when clients realized they were about to lose what they’d once considered their anchor. The chains were broken. With the anchors gone, it became a struggle to keep from drifting. Storms rose up, and that was when Nash learned the truth about his clients. Some weathered these tempests and came out stronger and more confident. Others struggled to stay afloat and eventually drowned.

Sadly, he didn’t know which kind of person Don Griffin would prove to be.

* * *

The urgency in her father’s voice frightened Savannah. His phone call came during her busiest time of day. It took her a moment to decipher what he was saying.

“Mom’s in the hospital?” Savannah repeated. Her blood ran cold at the thought.

“Yes.” Her father, who was always so calm and collected, was near panic. “She collapsed at home…. I didn’t know what to do so I called an aid car and they’ve brought her to the hospital. The doctors are with her now.”

“I’ll be there in five minutes,” Savannah promised.
Fortunately, Nancy had come in to help her, so she didn’t have to close the shop.

She’d always hated the smell of hospitals, she thought as she rushed into the emergency entrance of Northend Memorial. It was a smell that resurrected memories she’d pushed to the back of her mind.

Savannah found her father in the emergency waiting room, his shoulders hunched, his eyes empty. “Daddy,” she whispered, “what happened?”

“I…don’t know. We were working in the yard when your mother called out to me. By the time I turned around she’d passed out. I was afraid for a moment that she was dead. I nearly panicked.”

Savannah sat in the seat beside him and reached for his hand.

“I forgot about you not liking hospitals,” her father said apologetically.

“It’s all right. I wouldn’t want to be anyplace else but here with you.”

“I’m scared, sweetheart, really scared.”

“I know.” Savannah was, too. “Have you talked to the doctors yet?”

He shook his head. “How long will it take? She’s been in there for over an hour.”

“Anytime now, I’m sure.” At the moment, Savannah wasn’t sure of anything, least of all how her father would cope without her mother if it turned out that something was seriously wrong….

“Mr. Charles.” The doctor approached them, his face revealing concern.

Automatically Savannah and her father got to their feet, bracing themselves for whatever he might say.

“Your wife’s suffered a stroke.”

* * *

In the past few weeks, Nash had made a habit of staying late at the office. He no longer liked spending time at the house. It’d been nearly a month since Savannah had been inside his home and he swore that whenever he walked inside, he caught a whiff of her perfume. He knew it was ridiculous, but he’d taken to placing air fresheners at strategic points.

His bed was also a problem. Savannah had left her imprint there, as well. When he woke in the morning, he could sense her presence. He could almost hear her breathing, feel her breath, her mouth scant inches from his own. It bothered him that a woman could have this powerful an effect on him.

She’d meant what she said about ending the relationship. Not that he’d expected to hear from her again. He hoped he would, but that was entirely different from
expecting
her to call.

More times than he cared to count, he’d resisted the urge to contact her. He’d considered sending flowers with a humorous note, something to break the ice, to salvage his pride and hers, then decided against it.

She’d made herself clear and he had no option but to abide by her wishes. She didn’t want to see him again. So she wouldn’t. The next move, if there was one, would have to be hers.

As for that absurd proposal of marriage…Seldom had he regretted anything more. It embarrassed him to think about it, so he avoided doing so whenever possible.

Someone knocked softly on his office door. He checked his watch, surprised to discover he wasn’t alone at 10:00 p.m.

“Come in.”

The door opened and Savannah stood there. She was pale, her features ashen, her eyes red-rimmed as if she’d recently been crying.

“Savannah,” he said, hurrying around his desk. “What’s wrong?” He didn’t reach for her, much as he wanted to, not knowing if she’d welcome his touch.

“I’ve come,” she said in a voice that was devoid of emotion, “to tell you I’ve reconsidered. I’ll accept your offer of a marriage of convenience…. That is, if it’s still open.”

Ten

“Y
ou’re sure about this?” Generally Nash wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this time was the exception. Something had happened to cause Savannah to change her mind, something drastic. Nash was convinced of that.

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure.” Nervously she reached inside her purse and took out a well-creased slip of paper. “I’ve made up a list of issues we need to discuss first…if you’re willing.”

“All right.” He gestured toward the guest chair and sat down himself. “But first tell me what happened.”

“My mother,” she began, and paused as her lower lip began to tremble. She needed a moment to compose herself enough to continue speaking. “Mom’s in the hospital…. She had a stroke.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Savannah nodded. “Her prognosis for a complete recovery is excellent, but it frightened me terribly—Dad, too.”

“I understand.”

“Mom’s stroke helped me realize I might not have
my parents much longer. I refuse to allow them to sacrifice their dreams because of me.”

“I see.”

She unfolded the piece of paper in her hands. “Are you ready to discuss the details?”

“By all means.” He reached for his gold pen and a fresh legal pad.

“There will be no…lovemaking. You mentioned earlier that you preferred this to be a marriage of convenience, and I’m in full agreement.”

That had been a hasty suggestion, certainly not one he’d carefully thought out. In light of their strong physical attraction, Nash didn’t believe this stipulation would hold up for more than a few days, a week at the most. The minute he kissed her, or took her in his arms, the chemistry they shared would return.

“You’re sure about this?” he asked.

“Positive.”

Suggesting they wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off each other would inevitably trigger a heated argument. Savannah would accuse him of being arrogant. Nash decided to agree with her for the present and let time prove him right.

“Do you agree?” Her eyes challenged him to defy her.

Nash rolled the pen between his palms and relaxed in his leather chair, not wanting to give her any reason to suspect that he had reservations or what they were. “If a marriage in name only is what you want, then naturally I’ll agree to those terms.”

“Good.” She nodded, much too enthusiastically to suit him.

“Unless we mutually agree otherwise at some point,” he added.

Savannah’s eyes darted back to his. “I wouldn’t count on that if I were you. I’m agreeing to this marriage for one reason and one reason only. I want to be sure you understand that.”

“In other words, you don’t plan to trick me into falling in love with you.” He heard the edge in his own voice and regretted it. Savannah had sacrificed her pride the minute she’d walked through his door; goading wasn’t necessary.

“This isn’t a game to me, Nash,” she said, her voice sharp. “I’m serious. If you aren’t, maybe we should call it quits right now.”

“I was the one who suggested this,” he reminded her, not bothering to mention that it had been a spur-of-the-moment idea he’d deplored ever since. He stared at Savannah, noting the changes in her. He’d always viewed her as delicate, feminine. But there was a hardness to her now, a self-protective shell. She didn’t trust him not to hurt her. Didn’t trust him not to destroy her once-unshakable faith in love and marriage.

“I’ll draw up the papers to read that this will be a marriage of convenience unless we mutually agree otherwise. Does that wording satisfy you?”

“All right, as long we understand each other.” Her gaze fell to her list. “The second item I have here has to do with our living arrangements. I’ll move in with you for a brief period of time.”

“How brief?” This didn’t sound any more encouraging than her first stipulation.

“Until my mother’s well enough to travel south. That’s the reason I’m willing to go through with this,
after all. But to be as fair as possible, I’ll stay with you until a senior partner’s named.”

“I’d appreciate that.” The announcement would come within the month, Nash was certain, although it was taking much longer than he’d assumed. He’d like nothing better than to pull a fast one on Paul. The pompous ass would likely leave the firm. Nash smiled just thinking about it.

“After that there won’t be any need for us to continue this farce. I’ll move back to my home and we can have the marriage, such as it is, dissolved. Of course, I’ll make no claims on you financially and expect the same.”

“Of course,” Nash agreed. Yet this talk of divorce so soon after marriage grated on him. It wouldn’t look good to John Stackhouse and Arnold Serle if he was only married for a few weeks. And a quick divorce—
any
divorce—was the last thing he wanted. “For propriety’s sake, I’d like to suggest we stay married a year,” he said.

“A year,” she repeated, making it sound as long as a lifetime. She sighed. “Fine. I’ll accept that, provided we both adhere to all the other conditions.”

“Anything else?” he asked, after making a second notation on the legal pad.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I have a few more points.”

Nash groaned inwardly, but presented a calm exterior.

“While I’m living with you, I insist we sleep in separate bedrooms. The less we have to do with each other, the better. You live your life the same as always and I’ll live mine.”

Nash wrote this down, as well, but made a point of
hesitating, making sure she was aware of his uneasiness about this latest dictate. This would be the ideal setup if he was looking for a roommate, but Nash was seeking a deeper commitment.

“Since you mention propriety…” Savannah began.

“Yes?” he prompted when she didn’t immediately continue.

“Although our marriage will be one of convenience, I feel strongly that we should practice a certain code of ethics.” The words were rushed, as if she thought he’d disagree. “I expect you to stop dating other women,” she said, speaking more slowly now. “If I were to discover that you’d been seeing someone else, I would consider that immediate grounds for divorce.”

“The same would hold true for you,” he returned calmly. It made him wonder what kind of man she thought he was. “If I found out you were interested in another man, then I’d see no reason to continue our agreement.”

“That isn’t likely to happen,” she blurted out defensively.

“Any more than it is with me.”

She clamped her mouth shut and Nash guessed she didn’t believe him. Where had she gotten the impression that he was a playboy? It was true that after his divorce he’d occasionally dated, but there’d never been anyone he was serious about—until Savannah. “We’ll need to be convincing,” she said next, her voice quavering slightly, “otherwise my parents, especially my father, will see through this whole thing in an instant. They aren’t going to be easily fooled, and it’s important we persuade them we’re getting married because we’re in love.”

“I can be convincing.” He’d gained his reputation swaying twelve-member juries; an elderly couple who wanted to believe he was in love with their daughter would be a piece of cake.

“I’ll do my best to be the same,” Savannah assured him, relaxing slightly. She neatly folded the sheet of paper, running her fingers along the crease. “Was there anything you wanted to add?”

Without time to think over their agreement, Nash was at a disadvantage. “I might later.”

“I…was hoping we could come to terms quickly so I can tell my parents right away.”

“We’ll tell them together,” Nash said. “Otherwise they’ll find it odd. What do you want to do about the actual wedding ceremony?”