Million Dollar Mistake

Little Bird. How many years has it been since he called me that?
She glanced around the snow-covered landscape. It looked so beautiful, so
peaceful, with all scars and blemishes hidden by pure white. People could be like
that too. Then the covering melted and you were smacked with the hidden
reality, whether you wanted it or not.
Raven strode off the driveway, making her way into the woods that
surrounded the estate. She picked a path and climbed small hills, wound around
fallen-branch barricades and lurched through snowdrifts until she stopped to
catch her breath. She closed her eyes, breathing heavily, as she sought a place to
hide, a place where she wouldn’t have to face the things that could hurt. When
she opened them again, she saw an old abandoned barn at the edge of a field.
The barn at Ravens Nest, along with the library and the woods, had been another
one of her childhood refuges. There among the animals, she could feel safe,
appreciated and loved.
Raven trudged across the field and slipped inside the doors to find herself in
an area that was now used as storage. In every direction were bales of hay, grain
and old farm equipment. She made her way down the aisle to the horse stalls.
There were no names on the beams above these spaces as there were in J.R.
Exeter’s stables. The animals that had resided here didn’t merit remembrance. In
her eyes, that made the barn all the more precious. To date, her life had been
made up of the importance of a family name and what you possessed as the only
measure of value. How strange to discover in this abandoned place that she’d
now rather people knew her for what she might accomplish someday.
She wandered into one of the stalls at the back of the barn. The back wall was
piled with bales of straw, which kept out the weather, making the space warm
and cozy. Piled against the neat stacks was a pile of hay covered with a crumpled
quilt. She paused, looking around.
“Hello?” she called. “Is anyone here?”
Silence answered her.
Raven smiled as she bent over to smooth the quilt. She studied the quilted
pattern. A “Drunkard’s Path“, she thought it was called, so named because the
fabric patterns meandered in a haphazard way across the material. Similar to her

---

own life, she thought pulling off her hat, scarf and gloves as she sat down. Her
fingers played with the material beneath her, wondering how it had come to be
here. Perhaps young lovers were meeting in this barn, or a traveler forgot it? Did
they wander here just as she had, seeking—
Raven yelped as the quilt moved beneath her hand. Scrambling to the other
side of the blanket, she stared at the restless lump praying, “God, don’t be a rat.”
Two big ears followed by a pointed face with whiskers and sleepy blue eyes
emerged. “Meow,” the kitten complained, its appearance followed by more small
movements and a chorus of mews.
Raven clapped her hands and flipped the blanket back to reveal the straw
beneath cradling the small litter of kittens. “Oh, aren’t you cute?” She reached
for the scruffy black and white kitten that’d first awakened. “I’m sorry. Did I
wake you up?”
Judging by the disgruntled answer, she had.
“Where’s your mama?” she asked, looking around. “Out hunting?”
“Probably,” Nicholas answered, looming in the doorway.
“Ohmigod,” Raven gasped. “Will you quit doing that? You scared twelve
years off my life.”
“Sorry,” he said as he drew off his mittens and scarf, tucking them into his
pocket.
“How’d you find me?”
“I tracked you.”
“Like a boy scout, you mean?”
He chuckled. “Hardly that. You left footprints in the snow that a blindfolded
hound dog with a cold could follow.”
“Oh.” She buried her nose in the kitten’s soft fur. “Now that you’ve found me,
go away.”
“That’s not very friendly.”
“I don’t want to be friendly. I want to be alone.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no? I can be alone if I want to. You aren’t the boss of
me,” she muttered, her bottom lip jutting forward like a stubborn child.
Nicholas laughed. “That takes me back. You used to say that every time I saw
you when we were younger.”
She flashed him a glance. “Still goes.”
“How about a truce?”
“Go away, Nicholas.”
Instead he sat on the quilt next to her. “Why? Because of last night? Or
something else?”

---

“I don’t want to talk about last night.” She did, but she didn’t know how to
start the conversation, especially now that she had more pressing things on her
mind.
“I do.”
“No,” she stated. “Maybe I don’t want to talk about last night because of the
way you reacted this morning in the drawing room.” Of course she did want to
talk about what had happened last night, but on her own terms, so she tried to put
him on the defensive.
He looked puzzled for a moment, then smiled. “Lorianne, you mean?”
She seized on the diversion so she didn’t have to discuss either her father’s
phone call or the one Nicholas had with him earlier. “Lorianne is different than I
thought.”
“I agree.”
“Well-bred, respectable, even gutsy, I think. She’d be a very good match for
any important man, like yourself or—”
“Uh-huh. There’s only one problem.” His fingertip tilted her chin and turned it
in his direction. “She’s not you.”
Raven was silent for a moment, confused by the warmth and longing in his
eyes. She couldn’t face it, not when she wanted him so much. “No. I have a
feeling she’s a lot more than I am in many ways.”
“Don’t say things like that.”
“It’s true, isn’t it?”
“It doesn’t have to be, Raven.”
Her mouth drooped, with regret this time. “No, but let’s face it, my life hasn’t
made much of an impression so far.”
Nicholas chuckled as he traced his finger over her full bottom lip, making her
shiver. “I’m not sure I’d put it that way, sweetheart.”
“I don’t mean trying to get attention any way I could.” She shrugged, trying to
slough it off. “Which I accomplished beyond my wildest dreams.”
“You’re still young and sowing wild oats. Others have done it.” His
expression darkened for a moment, “Some still are.”
“Some, such as…?” She gave him an opening to mention her father, since
he’d practically dropped the subject in her lap. He didn’t take it. She turned to
face him, the words finally bursting out of her as if they were jet-propelled. “You
called my father a wastrel, and said I’ve been following in his footsteps.”
Lifting an amused eyebrow, he leaned back a bit. “A wastrel? That’s a bit
eighteenth century, don’t you think?”
“Don’t try to change the subject. Did you call him a wastrel?”
“I used a more modern term, but yes.”

---

“I see.”
“I doubt it,” he commented, ignoring her glare. “What else did your father
say?”
“That he went down on his knees, begged you to lend him money and keep
our family from ruin, but you laughed at him and refused. Is that true also?”
“Yes, I refused,” he answered in a careful tone. “But I wasn’t laughing. Far
from it.”
“Then we have nothing more to say to each other, do we?”
“Yes, we do. You need to understand why I said no.”
“Besides the fact that you consider my father an idiot for making some bad
investments?”
“Is that what he told you?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe you’d better ask him the rest of it?”
“What rest of it?”
Nicholas shook his head. “No, I don’t want to—”
“Are you talking about my father’s former business manager? The one Daddy
discovered was abusing his trust.”
“Abusing how?”
“Hiding money, getting involved in risky deals, that sort of thing.”
“You got that from your father too?”
“Yes. He was very truthful about all of it.”
“Oh he was, was he?”
“Yes,” Raven said, with an emphatic toss of her hair. “He even went so far as
to give his blessing to my marrying Jackson so I’d be taken care of as I deserved
since he’d let me and the rest of the family down so terribly.”
Lips twisted, Nicholas stared back at her. “That’s noble of him.”
“Don’t you sneer at my father. Don’t you dare.”
He grabbed her arms, pulling her toward him. “Raven, for once in your life,
stop hiding and face the truth.”
“Your version of the truth, you mean?”
“No, the reality of it. Your father is following in my father’s footsteps more
closely than I’d like.”
“Oh please—” The light dawned and she jerked away from him. “Gambling?
You’re talking about gambling? You’re crazy. Daddy doesn’t gamble. He hates
Las Vegas. And,” she pointed out with a firm finger poke to Nicholas’s chest,
“he doesn’t even like cards.”
“No. But he does like the ponies, the dog races, big-time sports, anything else
he can find to drop a bundle on.”

---

“That’s not true.”
“It is true. This isn’t the first time he’s come to me to bail him out.”
“I don’t believe—”
“It’s the fifth. But this time the money is a lot bigger. The stakes are much
higher. This time, he got in way over his head.”
Raven was silent, staring up at him, unwilling to accept his words but seeing
the truth on his face. “No,” she finally said, “we would have known. My mother
would have known.”
“Mine didn’t.”
“He said my sisters would have to cancel their weddings.”
“I won’t let that happen.”
“And my mother’s health is suffering. But you don’t care.”
Nicholas flinched. “I offered him an out.”
“He said you wouldn’t help.”
“Not true. Your father turned me down.”
“No. He wouldn’t do that. Not under these—”
“He did. I offered to pay off all debts this one last time if he’d go into rehab,
Gambler’s Anonymous. After that, all of his assets would go into a trust
managed by me as the Kristof family representative and by someone else of his
choosing.”
“Daddy could appeal to cousin Darcy.”
“Raven, I’m speaking for Darcy too. I didn’t make this decision on my own.
Darcy and I talked it over.”
Her lip curled. “I’ll bet you did. And I’ll bet you enjoyed telling him, didn’t
you?”
He looked hurt as well as annoyed. “No, I didn’t. It wasn’t easy saying this to
your father.”
“This can’t be necessary, Nicholas. You’re prejudiced and you’ve made Darcy
that way too. My father isn’t some degenerate lowlife who hangs out in smoky
betting parlors. Look at his background, for heaven’s sake. He’s not like-” Raven
bit her lip.
“Like my father, you mean? What? Just because your father had a royal
ancestor way-back-when, he’s too good to get himself into the same situation as
my mongrel dad?”
Raven laid her hand on his arm, saying gently, “I’m sorry. That came out
wrong.”
“No, it didn’t. You just remember one thing, sweetheart. The litters bred from
mongrels are hardier than most purebreds.”
At that moment, the black-and-white kitten tired of being ignored. It climbed

---

into Raven’s lap, hunkering down to growl and bat at her fingers. She looked
down at the scrappy kitten, for which mongrel was probably a kind description.
“You’re probably right. There’s nothing impressive about this little vagabond, is
there?”
“Nothing except the attitude.” Nicholas smoothed her hair back, tucking it
behind her ears. “It reminds me of someone.”
Raven looked up, a slight smile trying to break through the emotion and worry
she could feel tightening her face until she thought it would crack. “Anyone I
know?”
“Someone I don’t want to live without.”
Raven stared into his eyes. “My father wants me to marry Jackson. If I have
anything more to do with you, he threatened to cut me out of the family. Cut all
rights and privileges and never speak to me again.” A wry smile twisted her lips.
“I’ll bet that doesn’t include denying me the family fortune, does it?”
Responding to her humorous attempt, Nicholas smiled and touched her hand.
“Not unless he agrees to my deal.”
Raven played with the kitten for a moment. “I’ve discovered something about
myself recently. I’m tired of being that scared, lonely little girl who needs to be
noticed. I want more than that. I don’t need a high-profile marriage to a rich up-
and-coming blueblood to matter. I just need me.”
“It’s always been more than enough, Raven. You just didn’t open your eyes
enough to see it. So you overcompensated.”
“Like you did?”
“You’re right,” he agreed, somewhat surprised. “With me it was money and
business success. With you—”
“Notoriety and masculine attention. Something Freudian in that, I’m sure.”
She was quiet for a moment, then chuckled. “Growing up isn’t for wimps, is it?”
Nicholas tickled the kitten. “Some find it easier than others. No matter what
type of litter they come from.”
“I hate to tell you this, but you’re not the only mongrel in the family,
Nicholas. My parents prefer to forget it, but my branch of the family tree also
sprang from a disreputable great-great-grandfather who drank his way through
every bar in the territory, scraping rocks from the ground before he finally struck
a massive silver deposit.”
Nicholas grinned. “I forgot about that too.”
“So did I. Maybe it’s time I put more of that scrappy part of my heritage to
good use.”
“You’re not going to do what your father wishes?”
“I’m not going to marry Jackson, if that’s what you mean.”

---

He grinned. “It wasn’t. That’s a given.”
“You think so?”
“I know so, sweetheart. I have other plans for you.”
Her heart was beating so loudly she wondered if he could hear it. Wanting to
ask what he meant, but delaying the moment to let the anticipation build, much
like a slow devastating orgasm, she returned to her concern about her father, “I
have no choice but to tackle my father with the truth.”
Nodding, Nicholas looked doubtful. “I hope he’ll listen to you.”
Her jaw firmed. “He’ll listen.”
Nicholas gave her a wry smile. “Somehow, I think you’re right.”
“If I get him into rehab, will you help him again? Or is that offer off the
table?”
Nicholas looked away for a moment. “I’m tempted to say it’s off just so he’ll
finally stand up and take responsibility for his actions, but,” he looked back at
her, his expression making her quiver, “I can’t do that. Not anymore. So, yes, the
offer’s still on the table. It’s the only way I’ll ever get what I want out of this
mess.”
She held her breath, then plunged. “What do you want, Nicholas?”
His eyes met hers. “I want you.”
Even as she tried to keep her pride, she knew her expression revealed the hurt
and humiliation she was feeling from their encounter the night before. “You
could have had me. You stopped, remember?”
“We need to talk about last night.”
“The time for talking is past, Nicholas.”
Nicholas stared at her for a long moment, hunger and something else at war in
his eyes. His mouth hardened as he tried to exert control before he surrendered.
He grabbed her arms and pushed her back onto the quilt, surprising the litter of
kittens. The black-and-white kitten squeaked, growled and scrambled to safety
along with his brothers and sisters.
“You’re right. We’ll talk later.”

---

Chapter Nine
As she lay back on the quilt, Nicholas joined her, his movements so deliberate
they were almost slow motion.
Her body tensed with need, ripened with longing as he settled against her. No
matter how much she loved her father, regardless of her father’s demand, she
could no more cut this man from her life than she could stop breathing. But if
forced to choose between Nicholas and her father, what would she do? What
could she do? They were both necessary in her life. Past or future? It was her
decision.
Raven stared up into his brilliant gaze, into dark eyes that could freeze with
displeasure or warm with humor, eyes that now heated with passion. “Nicholas,”
she sighed, the sweetness of his name lingering on her lips.
“No more words,” he muttered, his hands diving into her hair.
“I just wanted—” She caught her breath as his mouth rained kisses soft as a
spring shower over her face.
“You’ll get what you want, sweetheart, and this time by God, so will I,” he
whispered into her ear before he caught her earlobe between his teeth.
She shivered and wrapped her arms around him, urgent now, desperate to feel
him against her, to feel the weight of him pressing her down, his contours fitting
against hers. Then she surprised both of them by giggling.
Nicholas raised his head and glared down at her. “What?”
“You’re wearing a coat.”
“Yeah?”
“So am I.”
He stared at her as if she’d gone mad. “It’s winter and frigging freezing
outside.”
She patted his down jacket. “It’s like trying to make love to a polar bear.”
He scowled at her for a moment, and then caught the humor of the situation.
He sat up and started ripping at his zipper, swearing when it got stuck. He
swiped a hand through his hair before renewing his attack. He speared another
glare at Raven as she giggled again.
She sat up and slapped his hands aside. “Let me help.”
Her fingers made quick work of the problem. She parted the coat and placed
her hands on his chest, against the fine wool of his sweater. Holding his eyes
with hers, she slid her hands up to his shoulders, removing the coat as she did so.

---

With an impatient grunt, he extracted his arms from the sleeves and tossed the
jacket aside. Then he got Raven’s jacket off so fast she almost missed it.
“In a hurry?” she teased, climbing onto his lap to straddle him.
“Yes. No,” he said, sliding his hands up her back and under her hair to cup her
neck. He tugged her head back. “Look at me.”
“I am.”
“Really look at me.”
She wrinkled her brow as she stared into his intense gaze. “I see you. I want
you.”
“Do you? No matter what? Because I’m just a man, Raven. I make mistakes.
God knows I’ve made my share with you.”
“We all make mistakes. My father—”
“Let’s keep your father out of this.”
“How can I?”
“Because he has nothing to do with this. With you and me.”
“He has everything to do with us. You must know how much it means that
you’ll help—”
Nicholas dropped his hands to her shoulders and gripped hard. “God dammit,
Raven, this,” he said, thrusting his hips upward to emphasize his point, “isn’t a
way to repay me.”
When his hips surged against her, Raven’s blood started to heat even as her
heart began icing over at his words. “I never—”
He gave her a little shake. “That’s not what this is about.”
Her denial dried up as she stared back at him. She licked her lips, trying to get
enough moisture to form the words that could change her life. “What is this
about?”
His gaze warmed as he stroked a finger down her cheek and around her lips.
“Don’t you know?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not a mind reader, Nicholas.”
“Then why don’t I show you, love?” he whispered, his lips a hairsbreadth
from touching hers.
Love.
He’d called her that before. It was an endearment she used herself, always in a
lighthearted, sophisticated way, as had he. But this time, it was different. This
time the word lingered on his lips to melt on hers as they met. The sweetness
slipped inside as he opened his mouth to caress her. His hands gentled as they
slipped down her back and slid under her sweater to stroke her flesh. With a
small mew of delight, she shifted her head, allowing his tongue farther access to
all the recesses of her mouth, opening herself to his agile touch, and to the

---

upcoming duel of desire. Her arms encircled him, trying to bring him closer, and
when that wasn’t enough, they darted under his sweater to knead his strong back,
much as a kitten kneaded its contentment.
Raven felt him shiver.
Nicholas surrendered, letting go, as he hadn’t dared last night. With her body
on his, he hardened and his mind filled with her, her heat on his crotch, her lips
full and sensuous, her lashes drooping to shade eyes bright with desire. He didn’t
know he could want one woman this much. Need one woman this much. His
hands continued to explore her body, pushing the sweater up, seeking, searching,
before reaching the first prize. He traced the lace edging of the nude-colored bra
that revealed more than it concealed. Cupping her breasts, he marveled for a
moment at their fullness, at her skin softer than down on a new chick. Her figure
was lush. He’d discovered that firsthand last night. But for some reason it
seemed fuller, riper, more tempting at this moment, inviting a promise he was
now ready to give. Here in this forgotten place, the time was right. No more
fighting—himself or anyone else. For better or worse, Raven Rutledge was his.
And he was hers. He could finally admit that. He could stop denying what he’d
always known deep inside. She was made for him. And he for her. And no one,
father or not, was going to stand in his way.
He lowered her back onto the quilt once again. With a flick of his fingers he
opened the front catch of her bra, his expression reverent as her flesh spilled free
into his waiting hands.
“So beautiful,” he breathed, as awestruck as if he’d never seen a woman
before. He lowered his head and dropped a kiss on each breast, inhaling the
sweet fragrance that was Raven. His thumbs rubbed her nipples, teasing each
into hard points. He glided his fingertips over the tense nubs, smiling as she
gasped her delight. Drawing back, weight resting on his elbow, he swept an
awed glance over her seductive pose, eyes lingering on each attribute like a kiss.
“Your body’s like a fine instrument, Raven. Sensual, sensitive, incredibly
responsive.”
He kept his eyes on hers as he skimmed his right hand down, following the
curve of her breast to her waist, over the material of her pants, then around to
cup her bottom and pull her closer. “It’s capable of making grown men weep.”
“Nicholas,” she breathed, her eyes wide with wonder and with questions as
she watched him, “I’ve never…” Emotion swamped her as she lost her words.
He smiled again and finished her sentence, ”…heard me talk like this before?”
Nicholas leaned down and tongued her breast, tugging the nipple into his
mouth, sucking gently, the feeling inside him strong and complete. He looked

---

up. “I’ve never felt like this before.” Under his fingertips, her heartbeat leapt.
His hunger overwhelmed him. With a sound between a groan and a moan, he
cupped the other breast, bringing it to his lips, laving the nub and finally pulling
it deep into his mouth.
Raven’s hands pulled his sweater up, the heat of her palms steaming against
his back as they grasped his flesh. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she repeated over
and over again.
“I can’t,” Nicholas gasped, lifting his mouth only so he could reassure her as
he took her lips in a ravenous kiss. They kissed—mouths open, tongues seeking,
probing, dueling, caressing, Raven’s lips and body communicating the same
feelings that he was too wary to believe and afraid to say—