Million Dollar Mistake

part of the woodwork. However, she couldn’t help a moment’s longing for the
shy, gawky, ignored young woman she used to be. At least she wouldn’t have
found herself in this situation. Her lips twisted. No, she’d have been lucky to
find herself at all. She’d almost been invisible. She glanced in the mirror.
Well, not anymore.
She’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the attention she now received.
There were times though when she wondered if she had gone much too far. This
was one of them.
Her father had requested her to be nice to Jackson Exeter, so she was.
Although when he first invited her to come skiing, she’d refused. Which only
seemed to make Jackson more determined. He’d smiled, charmed and practically
begged her to come.
Go, Daddy had said, enjoy yourself. As if she had nothing better to do than
run around the world and play.
Truth was, she didn’t. She’d spent the past five years that way. It was
beginning to pall. Same conversation, many of the same people, same concerns
—nail, hair, wardrobe, who is sleeping with whom, did you know so-and-so got
her eyes done, her face lifted, her butt tucked? And then there were the constant
sleazebag reporters, whom she’d supplied with outrageous antics for years,
always digging for new dirt.
But now when she saw her life reflected in Nicholas’s eyes, her impatience
with her lifestyle was replaced by shame. She didn’t want her life remembered
as this week’s headline or next week’s exposé photo op. There was more to her
than that. A tear rolled down her cheek. She brushed it away. Damn, Nicholas
Demetrious. Who cares what he thinks?
She did, it seemed. She’d been fascinated by him as a child, on those
occasions when she’d seen him at some extended family function. He was only
five or six years older than her, but he’d always made an impression.
Tall, dark and handsome—the perfect cliché. Unfortunately it fit Nicholas to a
T. So did cool and self-possessed, which only added to his attractiveness and his
mystique. Then when he dropped his guard to reveal some vulnerability and
sense of humor, Raven couldn’t help responding to him like a flower welcoming
sunshine. But even so, she’d always had a feeling he was hiding part of himself.
That underneath that smooth exterior was a street fighter decked out in leather
and riding a big, bad, to-hell-and-back Harley. That hint of danger which he hid
so well, pulled at her, made her itch to get his attention. She’d sensed the
darkness rippling underneath and that was much more appealing than the silky
side he showed the world. As a teenager, she’d watched from the shadows as her
sisters fell all over him, only to have him smile and move on. She’d vowed to

---

make him notice her when she grew up.
She’d succeeded.
Raven blinked rapidly to stop another tear from falling. Then she walked over
to the dressing table for a tissue, sitting on the bench to blow her nose.
Yes, Nicholas noticed her all right. For years she’d lived for his disapproval,
for the guilty pleasure of watching him lose his suave manner every time he
showed up to deal with one of her fiascoes—as he called them—all of which he
said reflected badly on the Kristof family. As the corporate watchdog, he had to
think about things like that. The more exasperated he became at her behavior, the
more she set out to annoy him. She wasn’t sure why. It just seemed the way it
was. Getting under his skin was more fun than being ignored.
Raven grabbed her brush, ruthlessly pulling it through her hair. In a way, she
shouldn’t have been surprised to see him today. He had an uncanny knack of
showing up when least expected.
She smoothed gloss onto her lips to soften them and had just snatched a cotton
ball to remove her eye makeup when a discrete knock on her bedroom door
made her turn from the mirror. The knock came again, a bit louder. She rose and
crossed the room to open the door.
Jackson stood on the other side, his gaze stunned, then hungry as it roamed
over her. From the way his eyes were almost crossing, Raven realized she should
have slipped into her robe.
She inhaled. “Jackson, what are you—”
He seemed transfixed for a moment, his eyes riveted on her chest before
lifting his gaze to meet her eyes. “I had to see you.”
“Jackson, this isn’t a good idea.”
“May I come in?”
She denied him access with a sharp shake of her head. “I don’t think so.”
Jackson locked his jaw. “I either come in or we have this conversation in the
hall.”
Raven looked into the hall before stepping back from the door. “Oh for—all
right. Come in.”
Jackson strode to the center of the room and looked around, seeming unsure
what to say now that he was inside. “This room suits you, you know. Tasteful,
yet exotic. It’s always been one of my favorites.”
Raven glanced around. She thought the room a bit garish, with its rose damask
walls, gold leaf furniture, intricate colored velvets and lace. Rather like a room
in a high-priced brothel. All she was missing was a mirror over the bed. For the
first time she wondered if Margaret had given her this room for that reason. She
smiled to herself. Wouldn’t it be a kick to think Margaret actually had a sense of

---

humor under that block of ice she called her face?
Raven forced her attention back to Jackson, who’d continued to comment on
the room. “Did you come to discuss the décor?” she interrupted.
He smiled. “I wish I did. It would probably be safer.”
His blue eyes blazed into hers, leaving her the teeniest bit uneasy. She
mentally shook herself. This was Jackson, for heaven’s sake. He was a man.
There wasn’t a man living she couldn’t handle. Except for Nicholas, a nagging
little voice commented.
She forced herself to relax and smile back at him. “Probably.”
“But as it is—”
“We should have this discussion tomorrow. And not in a bedroom.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so, Raven. Not after what happened today.
You’ve been putting me off since we got here.”
“That’s because I don’t want you to say something you’ll regret.”
“I won’t regret anything I say.”
“Yes, you will. You just don’t think so at the moment.”
He stepped closer to her, curving his hands around her arms. “Look, Raven, I
know this is moving fast. We’re moving fast.”
“Not me. I’m not moving at all.”
“I knew it. It’s too fast for you. Is that why you had to play that little scene?”
She was unnerved by his nearness. “What little scene?”
“The one in the hallway with Nicholas Demetrious this afternoon.”
“Oh, that.”
“Anyone with eyes could see through it.”
“They could?” She recovered enough to add, “—not. They could not. There
was nothing to see through.”
“I know why you did it.”
She stepped back, forcing him to release her. “Why?”
“You were afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“Of us. Of life. Of taking a risk.”
Raven shook her hair from her face in a gesture of sheer bravado. “I take risks
all the time.”
“Then take one with me and I’ll do the same,” he pleaded, the enticing tone in
his voice surprising her.
“Jackson, you don’t know what you’re saying. I shouldn’t have come here.
I’m not the right person for you.”
“I don’t care.”
“Well, you should care.”

---

“Why?”
“Because.”
He tilted his head, a slight smile lifting the corners of his lips. “Because
why?”
Words eluded her as she met his twinkling eyes, so she settled with, “Because
you should.”
He laughed. “That’s not solid reasoning.”
“Jackson, please, you have to leave. Right now.”
“Afraid?”
She strode as well as her gown would let her over to the door. “Please go.”
“Tell me you’ll think about it—about us.”
All she could think about was the possibility of someone finding him in her
room. Someone like Nicholas. Not that he’d come to her room, but still—
“Yes, all right. I’ll think about us.” She opened the door. “Now go.”
Jackson strolled over to her, stopping in the doorway, turning to look back at
her. “Have I told you how beautiful you are in that color?” He stepped a bit
closer. “How much I want to take you in my arms?”
She placed her hand on his chest to stop him from moving even closer.
“Please,” she whispered.
To the causal observer that whisper must have sounded as if she were begging
for him to kiss her because Jackson leaned down and placed his lips against hers.
She was so stunned by his move that she fell back against the doorframe, mouth
opening in surprise. A move Jackson took full advantage of, slipping his arms
around her and pulling her closer.
She fought her way back from the kiss, placing the palms of her hands against
his chest to push him back. He reared back a bit, only far enough to create some
space. She turned her head to the side to have her eyes meet those of Lorianne.
Lorianne was walking down the hall, carrying a steaming cup and saucer that
filled the air with a delicious chocolate scent. She jerked to a stop, pain filling
her face as she looked from Jackson to Raven. Then her mouth tightened and she
looked as if she’d like to dump her cup all over them.
“How many men does she need, anyway?” Lorianne muttered, loud enough
for Raven to hear.
Raven gasped and gave Jackson a mighty shove that had him stumbling back
into the hallway.
At a momentary loss for words, Raven stared at Lorianne, who mastered her
emotions well enough to give her a cool stare back. She even managed a chilly,
“Once again, so sorry to interrupt.”
Turning redder than her negligee, Raven switched into denial mode. “This—

---

this isn’t what it looks like.”
Jackson became aware of Lorianne at that moment. “Oh yes, it is.”
“No, it isn’t. I was trying to explain why I can’t.” Raven waved her arm at
Jackson. “Why we can’t—that we shouldn’t—”
“Interesting way you have of explaining, I’d say.” Lorianne pursed her lips as
her gaze roamed over them.
“Look, never mind. Just take my word for it. There’s nothing between Jackson
and myself.”
Lorianne gave Raven’s revealing nightgown a pointed look. “I can see that for
myself.”
“I wouldn’t say that, Raven.”
“Stay out of this,” Raven snapped back at Jackson.
Lorianne gripped her saucer tighter. “I suppose there’s nothing between you
and Nicholas either?”
“No. That’s right. I mean, no, that’s wrong.”
“What is it right or wrong?”
“Right. There is something.”
“I thought that was wrong before.” Lorianne was obviously enjoying herself.
Raven was confused for a moment, then her eyes narrowed as she stared at the
other woman. Finally she said in a soft tone, “Having a good time at my
expense?”
Lorianne’s eyes widened into round pebbles. “I was just trying to understand
clearly. I love clarity.”
“That’s convenient,” Nicholas’s dark liquid fudge voice flowed into the
conversation. “So do I.”
Raven whirled to face the man who’d come up behind her. Jackson did the
same, while Lorianne just stared at him, her mouth opening then shutting like a
fish starved for oxygen.
“Am I missing something?” Nicholas asked. His casual tone belied the steely
expression in his eyes.
“No,“ Raven said.
“Yes,” Jackson contradicted.
“Maybe,” Lorianne added.
Nicholas glanced around, his knife-sharp eyes dissecting Raven first, before
stabbing into Jackson. Finally, he sliced his gaze over to Lorianne. “Maybe?” he
questioned, gentling his voice.
“Well, I don’t want to tell tales, but… They…”
Horrified at what Lorianne might say, or the interpretation she might give to
what she’d seen, Raven rushed to explain. “The kiss meant nothing.”

---

“That kiss meant plenty,” Jackson protested. “You kissed me back. I know
when a woman is kissing me back.”
“You surprised me is all.”
Nicholas’s brows snapped together and he frowned, a thunderstorm in the
making. “You kissed him?”
“It sounds worse than it is…uh, was.”
“What’s going on out here?” J.R. joined the party. He was still holding a file
folder, apparently having just come up the stairs from his study.
“Nothing, Father.”
“Nothing? Then why is everyone standing in the hall? Are we having a fire
drill?” He chuckled.
Lorianne gave his joke a perfunctory smile. “No, just a misunderstanding,
Uncle J.R.”
“I’ll say,” Nicholas muttered, directing his stare at Raven, who flinched then
flung her shoulders back, ready to ride out the storm.
“What type of misunderstanding?”
“Nothing for you to worry about,” Nicholas answered in a firm tone.
J.R. studied each person in a careful fashion. “This is my house. I worry about
everything.”
Jackson stepped forward. “If you must know, Father, Lorianne saw me kissing
Raven.”
J.R. turned on Raven. “What? What the hell were you doing kissing my son?”
He turned to Nicholas. “I thought she was kissing you?”
Nicholas gave him a sardonic smile. “She was—earlier.”
Glaring at Raven, J.R. demanded, “Who’s next, young lady, the gardener?”
Raven started to reply when a firm grip around her arm shut her up. She
glanced at a very annoyed Nicholas warning her not to respond. She replied
anyway. “Mr. Exeter, this incident has been blown out of proportion. Perhaps we
can discuss this tomorrow after we’ve—”
“Not until I know if you’re planning on kissing my son again, young lady.”
Raven flushed all the way to her navel. And in her current attire she was
positive everyone could follow the color en route. “No. I’m not planning on
that.”
“I’m planning on it,” Jackson added.
Nicholas glared at Jackson. “You can forget that idea right now.”
“Why should I do that?” Jackson challenged. “I’m in love with her.”
“Oh,” Lorianne gasped, her face turning pale.
“God bless me, boy. I told you—” J.R. exploded.
“Great, just great,” Raven muttered.

---

“Nice going, champ,” Nicholas whispered. “See? Chaos follows you.”
For the first time in many years, Raven would have given anything not to be