“She stays,” Stephen said, pulling out a seat for her.
“Stephen, really, whatever game you two have concocted, it’s in poor taste,” Marguerite replied. She motioned to their attorney, who had just entered the room, lugging his briefcase. “This is business, not an ice cream social. Fieldman’s people will be here any moment.”
“My wife stays,” Stephen said succinctly, and had the pleasure of watching three mouths drop open.
Derek surged to his feet. “Wife? What do you mean, wife? When did this happen?”
“Saturday, in Las Vegas. You know, cousin, the place where fortunes are won…and lost?”
“You married her?” Marguerite looked suddenly pale.
“You won’t get away with this,” Derek said.
“I believe that was my line last week. Try to be original.”
“Lyle, say something,” Marguerite snapped.
The attorney smiled, relief flooding his expression, and offered a hand. “Congratulations, Stephen.”
Marguerite swatted his arm. “Don’t be a fool, Lyle. Congratulations aren’t in order. Don’t you see what he’s doing? He only married Catherine out of spite. Surely there’s something we can do.”
“If the marriage is legal, there’s nothing. Under the terms of the codicil, Stephen now owns ninety-five percent of Danbury’s.”
“But that’s not fair,” Marguerite had the gall to say.
“You still have your five percent,” Lyle reminded her. “And Derek is hardly a pauper. He has other assets, although he may not be able to live quite so lavishly from now on.”
“You haven’t heard the last of this,” Derek fumed, as he and Marguerite headed to the door.
When they were gone the room was silent for a moment, then Lyle sank into a chair and grinned. “I can’t tell you how happy I am for you, Stephen.”
“But last week you stood with them. You claimed I knew about the codicil.”
“I never claimed that. Marguerite did. I just never corrected her, for which I’m sorry.” His expression sobered. “They can be very persuasive, Stephen. My son had a little trouble a few years back, a gambling debt. A very large one to the wrong people, if you know what I mean. I engaged in some overbilling to gather enough to pay it off.”
“Why didn’t you just come to me?”
“I should have. I was ashamed. Keith’s not a bad kid, and he’s turned his life around. But in trying to help him I broke the law. Derek found out about it somehow, and he used it to find out what Maxwell was planning in his will. When he learned about the codicil he blackmailed me to keep it from you until it was too late.”
“But it wasn’t too late.”
“No. Derek wanted to gloat.” Lyle smiled again when he added, “His Achilles’ heel.”
“And I made the most of it.”
“It obviously never occurred to him that you would beat him at his sleazy game.”
The lawyer shifted uncomfortably after he said it, apparently realizing the unintentional insult his words contained. Glancing at Catherine, he said, “My apologies, Mrs. Danbury, that came out wrong.”
“An understandable mistake,” she replied graciously, even as Stephen watched the color stain her cheeks.
“My congratulations and best wishes to both of you.”
“Thank you,” she said.
The other man fiddled with the handle of his briefcase for a moment, then cleared his throat. To Stephen, he said, “I’ll be resigning as your legal counsel, and I’ll understand if you want to take action against me, legally or with the bar.”
Stephen was quiet for a moment, considering. “I have no plans to do either. As you know, that pair tends to bring out the worst in people. I’d appreciate the name of a good firm, though.”
Lyle’s face brightened. “I know one of the senior partners at Rockwell, Martin, Stanwood. It’s an old and respectable firm. I can have them brought up to speed in no time.”
Stephen nodded.
“Do you want me to stay for the meeting with Fieldman’s?”
“No need.” It was Stephen’s turn to grin. “I canceled it yesterday.”
“Of course you did.”
Lyle was chuckling as he walked out the door. When Stephen closed it behind the man and turned to face Catherine she swore the room got smaller.
“You didn’t have to come.”
It didn’t sound like a criticism, but the intense way in which he watched her made her uneasy, defensive.
“I felt I did.”
“Satisfied with the payback?”
“That’s not why I’m here.”
“No?” He’d walked forward as they spoke, and now he stood near enough that she was forced to look up, despite the stylish Italian pumps that added nearly three inches to her height.
“I thought you might need me.”
Something flickered briefly in his eyes and one side of his mouth lifted. “Worried about me?”
“I hear that’s what wives do,” she said lightly.
She thought of the other things wives did and nearly blushed. Just for a moment she was tempted to reach out, trail a fingertip over his chest and then use his very tasteful silk tie to pull him forward for a kiss. God, the man wore clothes well, which made her curious about what lay beneath them. They could lock the door, request that his secretary hold all calls. A vivid picture of what could come next filled her mind, shocking in all its sensuous detail.
She blinked and took a step back. What was wrong with her? She’d never entertained thoughts like this before. Indeed, she hadn’t thought herself capable of sexual fantasies. But this one was a doozy, not to mention highly impractical. After all, a desktop had to be incredibly uncomfortable.
She was sleep-deprived; that was it. And there was no denying that Stephen was an attractive man. Stress. She filed the excuses away, satisfied that at least her brain still seemed capable of functioning. She’d wondered for a moment there.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Fine. I’d better be going.”
“Busy day today?” He said it without the sneer that she now realized Derek had often used when referring to her work.
“Yes, I have a meeting at noon to discuss Project Christmas.”
“Project Christmas? It’s August.”
“The end of August. And Danbury’s has had wool sweaters on display for at least a month.”
“Touché.”
“Planning takes time if you want to do something right. I don’t believe in doing things halfway.”
She watched one dark eyebrow lift, but he said nothing. And again she thought about his desk and the sizzling fantasy that her sleep-deprived, stressed-out brain had manufactured. Catherine was not a woman known for her spontaneity, and yet she wondered if planning were required to do something like that right.
She had to clear her throat before she could reply. “We can count on Danbury’s to host our drop boxes again this year, I hope?”
“Of course. Project Christmas