Million Dollar Mistake

Nice? Raven glanced from tense face to tense face. Yes, and Satan is an altar
boy. For the first time that evening, Raven relaxed. So much drama, and for once
not hers. Or—feeling a slight twinge—not completely.
Raven felt Irina’s sharp eyes studying her. Casually she turned and smiled at
her. After a moment, Irina smiled back.
“You and I should get to know each other a bit, Raven.”
“I’d be honored, Mrs. Exeter.”
“Call me, Nana, child. Everyone does.”
“Then how can I refuse?” Raven said in a smooth society voice that would
have made her mother proud.
Jackson hurried over to her side, attempting to ignore Lorianne who was
making polite conversation with Margaret and J.R. while surreptitiously eyeing
him.
He positioned himself between Raven and Nana, cupping their elbows to
usher them forward. “Ladies, Tilda is hovering in the doorway. Shall we go in to
dinner?”
Feeling three sets of eyes stabbing her like daggers in the back, Raven allowed
Jackson to lead her to the dining room. She slipped into her chair. Dinner. How
difficult can it be?

---

As difficult as a blind yak in a snowstorm finding shelter.
The meal qualified as a natural disaster. First, veiled comments from the
Exeters made it very apparent that Lorianne was part of the family and Raven
was interfering with the natural order of things—which wasn’t her intention, but
no matter. Then Jackson’s unsubtle attempts to show his family that he was
interested in Raven, not Lorianne, increased the tension. Finally, Lorianne’s
attempt to smooth the atmosphere with polite chatter ended up in disaster when
she knocked over her wine goblet followed immediately by her water glass.
Under the circumstances, maintaining polite conversation was equal to holding a
country dance in a minefield. It was enough to give anyone indigestion. Even
someone used to setting the world on its ear. The only person who enjoyed the
food was Nana, who despite her ninety-pound frame ate like a stevedore, then
suddenly fell asleep in her chair. Raven envied her.
She jumped at a chance to escape when Jackson suggested a game of billiards.
Raven would have played even if she didn’t know a cue ball from a kumquat. As
it was, she was an expert. It was the one thing she and her father did together
when she was little, her sisters not being interested in the game. She’d treasured
those times. He’d actually noticed her then.
Raven coolly surveyed the table, studying the green baize that sported only a
few balls left to decide the game.
“Six in the corner pocket.”
As Jackson muttered a doubtful comment, she couldn’t help showing off with
a bank shot, her angle so perfect she might as well have used a protractor and
ruler.
After watching for a moment longer, he broached the topic she’d hoped to
avoid. “You must be wondering about Lorianne.”
“Not true,” Raven said.
“We grew up together, more or less. And our families were close and always
hoped—”
“Yes, she seems very attached to your family. Uncle J.R. and all.”
“She always called my parents Aunt and Uncle. Courtesy titles, you know.
You don’t have to be jealous of that.”
“What? Oh, I’m not.”
“Good, because there’s no need.” Jackson slid his hand down her arm.
“Raven, you are the most exciting, beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Uh-oh. Raven moved, naturally dislodging his touch, stopping him in mid-
comment as she bent over the table again and lined up a shot. What might have
pleased her ego earlier was now making her a bit uncomfortable. His intensity
seemed to increase in proportion to the negative family reaction this evening.

---

“Look, Jackson, here goes another one into the pocket. You’d better start
concentrating, luv, or this game is going down in history. My history.”
A bitter chuckle came from Jackson. “History. My God, I’m so sick of that
word.”
Raven straightened, sending him a puzzled glance. “Why?”
“Because my destiny is history. According to my father.”
Raven murmured, “Most parents have plans—”
“You heard about that, too?”
“Heard about what?”
“My preliminary political ambitions?”
Raven sent him a surprised look. “I didn’t realize that. I just meant, they seem
proud of you and care a great deal.”
“Too much,” Jackson muttered. “My entire life they’ve—”
“Well,” Raven said, using her most tactful expression, “you can’t have too
much love.” She’d been trying her entire life to get it, so she knew what she was
talking about.
“No, you can’t, can you? Raven—”
The ardent tone in his voice warned her. Coming here with him might rank as
one of the bigger mistakes she’d made lately. She’d only come for fun. Didn’t he
realize that?
“Ever since I met you…”
Obviously not.
“Raven, I’ve—”
“Oops.” To avoid further talk she did the only thing she could, she missed a
shot so he’d have to take a turn. “Bad luck. You’re up, Jackson.”
Jackson waved it aside. “I don’t care about that. Raven, I want to—”
“Finish this game while the night is young? I agree.”
He placed his pool cue on the table and stepped toward her. “No. From the
moment I first saw you, I’ve been considering—”
“Jackson”—she faked a huge yawn—”I think the combination of scotch and
the wine at dinner were too much for me. I’m getting very sleepy. Would you
mind if we continue this discussion tomorrow?”
“I…”
She gave him her most appealing look. “Please.”
His face fell, but he responded courteously, “No, of course not.”
Raven slipped her pool stick into the wall rack, blew a kiss then sauntered
through the double doors, leaving Jackson staring at her with a puzzled look. She
made it as far as the hallway before taking a deep breath and accelerating her
pace. She didn’t exhale until she’d closed her bedroom door behind her.

---