Free Double Standards by Judith McNaught

engine roared to life, and she forced herself to relax and think logically. She had two immediate problems facing her: the first was that it was now obvious Nick intended to take her to bed this weekend. In his mind it was already a forgone conclusion. Of course, she could simply say no when the time came, but the second problem was that she wasn't at all certain she
wanted
to say no. Never before had she been so attracted to a man, or so affected by a kiss. Never before had she so wanted a man to make love to her.
    She looked at Nick's strong, capable hands on the steering wheel, then lifted her eyes to his ruggedly handsome profile. He was so attractive, so blatantly virile, that women probably took one look at him and eagerly went to bed with him without ever expecting any emotional commitment from him. Surely she herself wouldn't be such an easy conquest. Or would she?
    A rueful smile touched Lauren's lips as she turned her head toward the window. Everyone always said she was so intelligent, so sensible, yet here she was, already planning to make Nick Sinclair fall in love with her… because she knew she was already falling in love with him.
    "Lauren, this trip is getting a little lonely on my side of the car. What are you thinking about?"
    Filled with thoughts of their destiny, Lauren turned to him and, smiling, slowly shook her head. "If I told you, it would scare you to death."
5
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    L auren's gaze strayed admiringly over the panorama of Lake Michigan 's sparkling blue waves swelling and frothing with white as they tumbled lazily onto the sandy beach. "We'll be there in a few minutes," Nick told her as he turned off the highway onto a well-maintained country road that wound through towering stands of pine trees. Several minutes later he turned left onto an unmarked blacktop driveway. For at least a mile the smooth private drive meandered gracefully between stately mountain-ash trees, their branches laden with magnificent hanging clusters of bright orange fruit.
    Lauren looked at the manicured landscape on both sides of the drive and realized that the ordinary lake cottage she'd originally envisioned when Nick invited her here for the weekend was not going to be what she would find. Nothing prepared her, however, for the sight that greeted her when they shot out of the dappled shadows into the golden glow of the setting sun and pulled to a stop behind a long row of expensive parked cars.
    In the distance, against the backdrop of a steep bluff, sprawled an immense, modernistic three-story glass-and-stucco house. Acres of lush green lawns, dotted with colorful umbrella tables, sloped gently to a sandy beach. Waiters in light blue jackets were passing trays among what had to be at least a hundred guests, who were lounging on chaises around a gigantic kidney-shaped swimming pool, talking and laughing in animated groups on the lawn, or strolling on the beach.
    Silhouetted against a pink-and-gold sky, gleaming white yachts rode languidly at anchor on the swelling water. Lauren decided they looked serenely unimpressed by a lake that was nearly a thousand feet deep in places, and unintimidated by the fact that storms could rage across its 22,000-square-mile surface, whipping it into a turbulent gray fury.
    Nick got out of the car and came around to open her door. With his hand at her elbow, Lauren had no choice but to walk beside him along the winding row of racy foreign sports cars and luxurious sedans toward the throngs of guests.
    At the edge of the lawn she stopped and surveyed the people with whom she was about to mingle. Besides several famous movie stars, there were other vaguely familiar faces—faces she'd seen repeatedly in magazine articles about the international jet set and the fabulously rich.
    She glanced at Nick, who was slowly scanning the crowd. He looked neither impressed nor intimidated by this glittering assembly of the beautiful and the rich; in fact, he looked irritated. When he spoke, his voice was