Million Dollar Mistake

help me, I love her more than my life.
But as she suddenly turned her head to meet his intense gaze and he caught
sight of stormy eyes with the tracks of tears still on her face, he had a feeling
he’d have to fight his way to everlasting bliss first.
She looked around as if seeking an exit. He raced over to stop her and pulled
her out of line, ignoring the interested stares from the surrounding crowd.
“Raven, what do you think you’re doing?”
“Leaving.”
“No, you’re not,” Nicholas said. “Not without me.”
Raven jerked her arm away. “You have nothing to say about it.”
“Yes, I do. I love you.”
“That doesn’t mean a thing.”
“It means everything,” he said, reaching for her again.
“No. When you really love someone, you trust them,” Raven said, poking him
the chest. “You open your heart, you welcome them inside.”
“Is that what you did?”
“Yes.”
Nicholas grabbed her hands, holding them close. “Then what were all those
games with Jackson about?”
“I didn’t say I haven’t made a few mistakes,” Raven said, pulling her hands
from his.
“A few?”
Raven glared at him. “Don’t start counting, pal. Your record doesn’t stand
straight up, either.”
“I know, I know,” he agreed.
“You should have told me about your little business deal.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out. I arrived at J.R.’s like an Antarctica
explorer seeking shelter from a blizzard, for God’s sake,” Nicholas said, shaking
his head.
With an annoyed toss of the head, Raven said, “I didn’t think too hard about it.
You were just there so I—”
“Grabbed me, used me, abused me?”
Raven rolled her eyes. “As if.”

---

He stepped closer, whispering, “Want to abuse me some more?”
She shoved him back. “No. I’m too angry.”
Nicholas glanced at the people trying to pretend they weren’t soaking up the
scene. He tried to pull her farther away from prying eyes, but she dug in her
heels and didn’t move. “Raven, look, I was wrong, I admit that. Can’t we
overlook that and move on?”
“Move on where?”
“Um, well…” He stumbled for a moment. He hadn’t thought beyond stopping
her, getting her to talk to him again, and then begging her forgiveness. Finally he
said, “To a relationship.”
“What does that mean?”
“What is this, Twenty Questions?”
“I think I deserve some answers before I decide if this is what I want for my
future.”
“You deserve some answers? What about me?”
She placed a fist on her cocked hip and challenged him with, “Go ahead, ask
away.”
His eyes narrowed. “Do you love me?”
“Yes. Next.”
“That’s it?” He blinked at her, then said in a disgruntled tone, “Very romantic.
You might as well be ordering a drink.”
“Oh, now you want romance.”
He tugged at his hair. “God, you make me nuts. Okay, here goes.” He dropped
to one knee. “This is against all known wisdom and my better judgment, but—”
He took her hand. “Will you marry me?”
“Against your better judgment? That’s an unusual tactic, but is it guaranteed
to get a positive response?” She jerked her hand away. “Not!”
Nicholas groaned, yanking his hair. “Oh hell, Raven. You could drive a saint
to sin.”
“After that pitiful declaration, I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man
in the universe.”
He jerked to his feet as if a puppet master had pulled the strings. “You’ll have
to because your family is damn near broke. You need me to keep you in your
comfortable lifestyle, especially since Jackson has moved on to other pastures.”
“Are you calling me a gold digger?” she spat at him.
“If the shoe fits,” he spat right back.
“Ooohh! I can’t believe you said that.” Rearing back like a pitcher aiming for
the strike zone, she whirled and took a swing at Nicholas, much to the dismay of
the airline personnel staff, and to the delight of an amateur photographer who

---

grabbed his camera and took a picture.
After a fast duck, Nicholas lost his patience. He moved in, bent and put his
shoulder in her mid-section, lifting to toss her over his shoulder like a sack of
potatoes before picking up one of her bags and heading to the door, leaving
laughter, catcalls and applause behind him.
A young airline porter, who looked scarcely old enough to shave, stepped into
his path. “Uh, hold up, sir. What’s going on here?”
“Lovers’ quarrel.”
“Don’t listen to—owww,” Raven said, in response to Nicholas’s sharp tap on
her backside.
He turned his attention back to the young guy. “There’s fifty bucks for you if
you’ll get the rest of this luggage,” he said, raising his hand to show him a bag.
“Wow, that rocks, dude,” the porter gasped, before scurrying away for Raven’s
things.
Nicholas walked out of the airport with a fuming Raven hanging upside down,
pounding on his back.
“Put me down this minute, Nicholas Demetrious.”
“No. That could be dangerous.”
“You’d better believe it will be.”
Nicholas let her pound until he reached the car. Opening the door, he dumped
her inside on the passenger seat. Closing and locking the door behind him, he
turned to receive the rest of the luggage from the porter. He bundled it into his
backseat before peeling off a large bill and handing it to the grinning guy.
A hint of uncertainty crossed the young man’s face as he glanced inside at
Raven. “Uh, you aren’t pulling something funny, are you, mister?”
Nicholas grinned and pulled out his wallet to show the porter his ID. “Believe
me, when my fiancé gets her hands on me, funny is the last thing it’ll be.”
The kid studied the ID, then Nicholas, then the luxury car. “Well, okay.” He
jumped back as Raven pounded on the window. “Good luck. Man, I wouldn’t
want to be in your shoes.”
Nicholas followed his glance. “I know what you mean.” He unlocked the door
and slid inside behind the wheel.
Raven still pouted as she turned to annihilate him with a glance. “Now what?”
Nicholas turned the key. “Now we get married before I either break your
damn neck, or that photographer back there sells his exclusive photo to the
tabloids.”
“As a proposal, that still lacks something, darling.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Nicholas said, shoving the car into first gear and
pulling away from the curb.

---

She waved her hand, indicating the airport. “But all of this isn’t the way I
imagined someone proposing to me.”
He spared her a glance. “What did you imagine?”
“Moonlight, flowers, warmth, romance—not snow, slush, freezing cold and
being tossed around like a feed sack.”
Nicholas looked in the mirror and whipped into the departure lane, before
skidding into a circular byway at the far end of the terminals. He hit the brakes,
slammed the car into park then pulled her into his arms. “If it’s romance you
want, romance you’ll get.”
Ignoring the beeping horns, shouted expletives, and the camera being waved
by the amateur photographer who’d tried to follow them, he kissed her, pouring
all of his heart into it.
They emerged long moments later. Nicolas was shaken by the kiss and depth
of passion it evoked, and judging by her expression so was Raven.
After a quick glance around at the cars passing on the highway, Raven
grinned. “Holy hell, darling, when you let yourself go, you really let yourself go,
don’t you?”
Nicholas grinned back and flipped the lever that reclined her seat. “Baby, you
don’t know the half of it. But you’re about to find out.”
She fell back with a thump, but held him off. “What happens next?”
“A nice calm happy-ever-after, sweetheart.”
Raven laughed. “Nice and calm starring the two of us? That’s wishful
thinking, isn’t it?”
He dropped a kiss on her nose. “Then we’ll make up our own ending as we go
along.”

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About the Author
I wrote my first novel in the sixth grade but my writing career didn't last.
Instead I went into theatre before ending up in media as a writer-producer.
Over the years, I've been an actress, director, producer, copywriter, college
instructor, creative dramatics teacher, author, mime, mom and a school bus
driver. I’ve started two creative marketing companies and worked in all media
from network cable programming to games and corporate initiatives, but always
returned to writing. I have three married daughters, now creating chaos in
someone else’s life. My true hero is Guy. He’s survived life with four women,
two female cats and dogs, and still remembers how to tie his shoes. Visit Meg
Lacey at
www.meglacey.com.

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