Joined By Marriage

He didn’t mean to—he just was!

‘It’s just that it’s an unusual name.’ He frowned darkly. ‘Almost masculine.’

‘Well, I can assure you—I’m not!’ she bit out impatiently, wishing she had never told him her first name; he was making such a meal out of it!

His mouth once again twisted into what Brianna assured herself must be a smile—although it looked more like a pained grimace to her. ‘I can see that.’ He dryly acknowledged her prettily petite but definitely feminine figure in a fitted skirt and neat, fitted blue blouse tucked in at her slender waistband.

He showed as much male awareness of her as a woman as a stick might, Brianna decided. And time was pressing; she would be late back to work if she didn’t soon settle this.

‘Maybe I had a male relative named Brian; I really don’t know,’ she dismissed. ‘No one has ever bothered to explain.’ She glanced at her wristwatch; she really would have to leave soon. ‘I’m afraid, Mr Landris, that if you can’t help me—’

‘I’m afraid I can’t.’ Without her being aware of it, he had stood up and was even now moving around his desk, as if to escort her to the door. ‘It really would be better if you made an appointment with Hazel. It’s my father you want to see.’

Brianna felt as if she was being swept along in the middle of a tidal wave as he clasped her arm, once she had stood to her feet, and began walking her toward the door. But she came to an abrupt halt at this last remark, looking up at him suspiciously. ‘How do you know that?’ He hadn’t known it in the reception area. Or, at least, he hadn’t appeared to...

He shrugged broad shoulders beneath the dark suit he wore. ‘The reference at the top of the letter is obviously his.’

He had known exactly who the letter was from, and which Landris she should have seen! Her eyes flashed accusingly; she was getting more than a little tired of the feeling of being shunted from one person to another, with none of them more willing to be of help to her than the last. What was the mystery, for goodness’ sake? She was the one who had been sent the letter; she hadn’t come here uninvited!

Brianna snatched the letter out of his hand, glaring up at him. ‘Why didn’t you just tell me from the first that it’s your father I need to see?’

‘Because he isn’t here at the moment,’ Nathan Landris answered firmly. ‘But I’m sure Hazel told you that...?’

‘She said he wasn’t available,’ Brianna scorned, ‘whatever that’s supposed to mean!’ She wasn’t sure any more!

Icy blue eyes unwaveringly met deep blue. ‘It means he isn’t available,’ Nathan clipped. ‘But I’ll tell him you called.’

‘Will you?’ she challenged; she had the feeling this man wanted to forget ever setting eyes on her! In this case the feeling was mutual. Pompous, overbearing, bossy—

‘Yes, I’ll tell him,’ Nathan Landris confirmed dryly. ‘But I suggest you make an appointment with Hazel, nonetheless.’

‘For “some time next week”,’ she said disgustedly. He gave a haughty inclination of his head. ‘If that’s the first appointment available to you, then, yes.’

Brianna looked at him. ‘Despite what you said earlier about my own qualities, Mr Landris, I have a feeling you’re quite formidable yourself in a court-room!’ she said slowly.

He gave what could only be described as a wolf-like smile—that of one which had just pounced on its prey! ‘I have been known to win the odd case or so,’ he drawled.

She bet he had—he’d certainly managed to effectively divert her from her initial purpose here! ‘I’m sure,’ she accepted scathingly. ‘If you’ll excuse me.’ She walked to the door. ‘It seems I have an appointment to make!’

She turned and stormed out of the office, neither thanking him—she had no reason to do so!—or saying goodbye. Somehow she had a feeling, despite the fact that there was absolutely no reason why they should, that they would meet again...

‘I’ll come with you.’

Brianna turned to him in the carpeted corridor. ‘There’s no need for you to do that—I’m not about to steal the company silver!’

He looked down at her from his imposing height, dark brows raised reprovingly. ‘Are you always this—forthright, Miss Gibson?’ he said carefully.

‘Probably,’ she dismissed. ‘I suppose, despite what you said earlier, that excludes me from taking up law as a profession?’

The insult hung in the air between them, only a nerve pulsing high in Nathan Landris’s cheek, as he reached up to remove his glasses, telling of his response to it.

She hadn’t particularly meant to insult the man, but it was nevertheless true that he didn’t appear to have a forthright bone in his body. ‘I’ll go and make that appointment,’ she said quickly. ‘Er—thank you for your help,’ she added, with the gratitude she had omitted earlier.

It started out as that now-familiar grimace, but then it went one step further, and, to her surprise, Brianna found herself looking at a smiling Nathan Landris. It was quite amazing what a difference it made to him—his blue eyes warm, that hard, unyielding face suddenly rakishly attractive.

Brianna stared at him, totally thrown by the transformation. God, this man had it all, didn’t he: a razor-sharp brain, a lethal coldness, and, when that failed, a sudden charm that was breathtaking. At least, Brianna felt suddenly breathless. Clark Kent and Superman—and she had thought they were both ficticious characters!

‘I think so.’ He answered her facetiously made remark. ‘You speak first, and think afterwards.’

‘Whereas a lawyer thinks first and often doesn’t speak at all.’ She acknowledged the fact that, although he might think he had almost told her his life story, he had in fact told her nothing she had come here to find out. And she was no longer sure that was because he didn’t know anything... ‘Very well, Mr Landris, we’ll do this your way.’ She doubted it was very often done any other way! ‘You escort me back to Reception, I’ll organise my appointment, and then we can both get back to work.’

He walked at her side down the corridor, the glasses firmly back on the bridge of his nose. ‘And what work do you do, Miss Gibson?’

She glanced up at him, tongue slightly in cheek as she answered him. ‘I’m a receptionist.’

This time the smile that closely resembled a grimace didn’t even get a look in. That rakish grin appeared instantly, accompanied by a throaty chuckle. ‘Miss Gib—Brianna, you really are...!’ He shook his head, the grin still curving his lips. ‘I don’t think you need any assistance in organising your appointment. I—’ He broke off, looking at a man walking down the corridor toward them, and his humour faded, his expression suddenly becoming grim.

‘Can you find your own way back to Reception?’ he prompted Brianna distractedly, still looking at the other man.

‘I would think so,’ she answered him humorously, also looking at the man approaching them. He was dressed as formally as Nathan Landris but he wasn’t quite as tall as him, although he had an equal air of purpose about him. Nathan Landris’s two o’clock appointment, Brianna decided.

‘Could you wait in my office for me?’ Nathan addressed the man, confirming Brianna’s suspicions. ‘I’ll be with you in a moment.’

‘I’m in rather a hurry, Nathan,’ the older man said sharply.

‘This won’t take long,’ Nathan assured him.

‘I can see you’re busy.’ Brianna lightly touched Nathan’s arm. ‘I won’t take up any more of your time.’ She gave an apologetic smile to the older man—who, despite being much older than Nathan, did give her a male response, openly staring at her.

Brianna’s parting smile included both men as she walked away, and as she glanced back, before turning the corner into the reception area, it was to find both men still watching her, the older still staring at her. Nathan Landris might be made of ice, but his client certainly wasn’t!

Brianna, out on the street minutes later, her appointment made for next week with Landris Senior, felt distinctly dissatisfied with the whole morning; she was no nearer to knowing what all this was about than she had been when she’d received the letter earlier that day!

CHAPTER TWO

‘YOU really shouldn’t have gone there alone, Brianna.’ Her father spoke across the dinner table to her. ‘I thought we agreed before you left for work this morning that you weren’t going to do anything until we had another chance to talk this evening?’

‘Don’t worry, Dad.’ Brianna leant across the table and squeezed his hand reassuringly. ‘For all the good it did me, I might as well not have bothered! I feel as if I just made a complete fool of myself.’ And Nathan Landris had helped her to do it!

She had thought on and off during the afternoon about her conversation with him; the more she thought about it, the more annoyed she became, both with him and herself. Who had been trying to glean information from whom?

‘I think it’s ace,’ her brother piped up. ‘Perhaps you’ll find out you’re the daughter of a rich Arab sheik, and that you’ve been left millions in his will!’ Gary grinned expectantly.

As a family, they had never made any secret of Brianna’s adoption, and, because they were all so close, it had never mattered to any of them—Gary was Brianna’s brother, and her father was exactly that.

She grimaced now. ‘With this colouring? Knowing my luck, it’s more likely I’m the daughter of a debtor—and I owe millions!’

Her brother grinned, she noticed, but her father still looked far from happy with the situation. ‘Dad—’ She broke off as the telephone rang out in the hallway. ‘You aren’t on call tonight, are you?’ She frowned.