Beauty and the Barracuda (10 page)

The moment her inhales calmed, he kissed her, taking her mouth as intensely as he’d taken her body.

When they had to part for air, he swept her hair from her face and chuckled. “Oh, baby. I don’t think you’ll be able to fix this.”

Nyssa blinked, then turned her head to look at the mirror. She immediately burst into laughter. “Jesus Christ…I look like I had a hard night working my corner.”

His brows rose and she held up a finger. “Do. Not.”

Sansone’s mouth twisted about. “Don’t you have some type of fancy stuff in that little black thing?” He pointed to her clutch, which she’d dropped the moment he touched her.

“It’s called a clutch—I can honestly say I’m surprised you don’t know that—and does it
look
like I can fit anything in there other than a pack of gum and some lost hope?”

He picked it up and opened it. “Well, I see the lost hope…”

She hit him in the shoulder, and his head lifted as he laughed.

Something occurred to her and she momentarily stopped.

“What?” Sansone asked, wiping away some of her smeared lipstick.

“We can go home.” Killing two birds with one stone. She could get away from James
Woodpecker
Woodard, and she could spend the rest of her night with exactly whom she wanted. Yeah. Home. Now.

He seemed to be searching her eyes. “Home?”

Nyssa nodded. “Home.”

Swallowing, he gently extracted himself from her sex and looked down at his trousers. “Er…right about now, I’m thinking that’s the most viable option,
cara
.”

She tried not to laugh in his face. She really did. Sadly, Nyssa failed.

Something had shifted. What exactly that was, Sansone didn’t know. But he had no shame in taking advantage of it. With Nyssa’s hand enveloped in his own and his tuxedo tails untucked and covering the evidence of what had just transpired, they slipped outside through one of the many doors in Noel’s home and trekked around to the front.

He had two goals—get her home, get her naked. In her brief moment of panic she’d looked for him
.
She’d turned around and she’d looked for
him.
That knowledge alone was enough to leave him anticipating the second he’d get her across the threshold of her place. Nyssa squeezed his hand as they rounded the side of the mansion and made a beeline toward the valet. Sansone had already texted Noel to let him know that he would be sending him a check for his and Nyssa’s plates later this week.

He shot her a quick grin, and her returning smile sent his pulse into overdrive. Sansone would never have a faster or more potent response to another woman.

Stopping as they finally reached the valet, he pulled her to his side. “Did you drive?”

She shook her head, mussed tendrils of hair moving about her bare shoulders. “I had a car service drop me off. I hate trying to drive in more than three-inch heels.”

Excellent…

He stepped up to the kid at the kiosk and handed him his ticket stub. “The quicker you get it back the bigger your tip will be.”

Said kid moved with a purpose.

Nyssa laid her head on his shoulder and Sansone placed a kiss on the crown of her head. “Did I tell you how amazing you look tonight?”

She snorted. “You mean
before
you completely demolished it with your love laser?”

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “You
always
look amazing. Even while snoring.”

Pinching his arm, she growled, “I don’t snore.”

“You do. The first time it happened I had to check you for extra hair in unnecessary places, make sure I wasn’t sleeping with a lycanthrope.”

Sansone yelped when she twisted one of his nipples.

“You tell anyone else that and I will rip this off and turn you into a living Ken.”

He waggled his brows. “How will you be able to attach clothespins to them then?”

Her lips curved. “I hate you.”

Following the delicate curve of her jaw with his fingers, he replied, “You want to but you can’t.”

She blinked and he caught something foreign yet amazing in her hazel irises. “That’s where you’re wrong, Sunny,” Nyssa responded softly. “I want to do a lot of things with you…hate doesn’t even factor in.”

“Unless you want me to ask you for a live demonstration, I suggest you stop looking at me in that way,
cara
.”

“What way?” Her voice told him she knew precisely what she was doing. Oh, this game would be
fun.

Sansone rubbed her nose with his. “Like you want me to ruin you.”

She bit her lip. “I think you already have.”

Sansone sucked in a deep breath, ready to take her mouth when the sound of approaching footsteps caused his head to snap upwards.

“Nyssa?”

He stiffened and caught sight of Woodard just over her shoulder.

Her sigh was defeated as she turned to look at the prick. “James?”

The other man took a few cautious steps forward, clearly forgetting Sansone was right there. When Sansone growled, Woodard stopped, his gaze bouncing between Nyssa and him. “I wanted to talk to you earlier but you disappeared before I could get the chance.” He seemed to be taking in her rumpled appearance as he awkwardly searched for something to say and came out with, “Uh… How are you?”

Nyssa put a hand to Sansone’s chest, clearly intent on keeping him still. “I’m fine.” Her head tilted slightly. “You wanted to talk to me
why
?”

Woodard rocked back on his heels. He then waved a hand at her. “You look…
incredible
.”

“James…”

“It’s been a long time since I last saw you and—”

“You’re speaking but you aren’t saying nearly enough,” Sansone cut in. “What. Do. You. Want?” He didn’t want him talking to Nyssa. He didn’t even want him in the same space as her, breathing her air. He was tainting something that had just unfolded so beautifully right before Sansone’s eyes, and he could
feel
it in the way she tensed beneath his touch, saw it in the way her jaw clenched. She was withdrawing, pulling away unknowingly, and it was this asshole’s fault. Sansone had made a mental promise, and it was taking everything within him not to keep it.

Blue eyes narrowed on him. “What I
want
is to talk to Nyssa.”

Sansone gave him a sharp smile. “And as a little boy I wanted to star in my own sitcom.” He mocked. “What happens to a dream deferred?”

Woodard’s jaw clenched. “Eight years and you’re still playing the guard dog role, Sultana?”

He stepped forward. “Careful, Woodard. As you can see, I’m off the leash.”

Nyssa gripped the back of his jacket. “Stop.”

Sansone did and the dickhead smirked. “Are you really?”

Pointing at Woodard, Nyssa said, “If I let him go, I’m going to spend my night downtown trying to explain how you got twisted inside out, so cut the shit.”

His lips flattened into one thin line and he held up his hands. “I’ve been looking for you all night. I thought we could go someplace quiet and I could explain some things.”

“Oh, this is just
unreal…”
Sansone muttered.

“James, I’m not exactly sure what it is you’d like to explain after almost a decade but I
am
sure that I don’t want to listen to
any
of it.” She shook her head when Woodard opened his mouth. “Just…go back inside…or home…or wherever you’ve been all this time. I don’t care which one.”

“Nyssa.” He took another step forward, reaching out.

Sansone shrugged out of the jacket, leaving it to hang from Nyssa’s fingertips as he got between the two. He was at least a foot taller, his body wider than Woodard’s by a few inches. “If I’m not mistaken that was a distinct
no.
Turn around. Go back. Save yourself the horror of publicly sobbing.”

Woodard attempted to stand straighter. “Exactly who
are
you aside from an annoyance? The last time I checked—which was around five minutes ago—Nyssa was
very
single.”

He smirked. “Who am I?” Leaning down, Sansone made direct eye contact. “I’m the man who’s going to shove your feet down your throat if you don’t make yourself invisible and
quickly.”

“Sunny…”
Nyssa warned.

Sansone raised a hand. “No,
cara.
This
figlio di puttana
is obviously feeling courageous. Why not show him
exactly
why he should be anything but?”

“Because that would mean I’d have to sleep alone tonight,” she answered softly, giving him pause.

Woodard’s eyes jerked toward her as Sansone spun around.

Sweetly, she slid her arms through the sleeves of his jacket and wrapped it around herself. “You wouldn’t subject me to that, would you?”

Ire forgotten now, he stared at her. “No, baby. I wouldn’t.” She’d said it out loud. Nyssa had referred to their relationship, and it wasn’t just to burn the bastard near Sansone. No, if it had been, she would’ve been looking directly at Woodard but her eyes were focused solely on him, silently
begging.

She held out a hand. “Then take me home.”

“Just
please…”
Woodard tried again. “I know I should’ve done this a long time ago, and I probably don’t deserve the opportunity to do it now but—”

“I’m giving you to the count of five to play on your reptile-like abilities and slither quietly away,” Sansone interrupted calmly. “One…four…five…” When he turned around Woodard was already backing away, hatred burning in his glare. No matter how brave he may have felt before, he obviously comprehended what true bottled rage sounded like.

Nyssa grabbed Sansone’s hand and nodded toward the valet who’d brought his car around. It was definitely time to leave.

“Well, well, don’t the two of you look mighty rested and happy?”

Nyssa’s lips twitched at the accusatory tone as she approached Alana’s desk on slightly shaky legs. “I know
I
look rested and happy but—”

“Nyssa?”

She glanced up from reaching for her mail.

Alana’s brow flicked upwards. “The third button on your blouse is open, and I’m pretty sure what I’m seeing constitutes sexual harassment in the workplace. Because I’m gracious, I won’t sue, I’ll just quietly ask why you have so many bite marks and if you need me to call someone for help?”

Shit!
The night before, Sansone had kept her up for hours on end after returning home from Noel’s event, making her come until she was hoarse and very close to placid. Rolling out of bed this morning had been the hardest of struggles. As was getting back to her place and putting herself together for work. What made it so hard? A large, persistent, bilingual bastard!

She swallowed and finally answered, “You mention this ever again and I put your desk next to sweaty Dave’s. Got it?”

Her secretary looked thoroughly amused as she cast a quick glance toward Sansone, who was unlocking his office door. “Guess this means I won the pool.”

Nyssa blinked. “There was a pool?

“Unh-hunh.”

“On Sunny and I?”

“Unh-hunh.”

“Between who exactly?”

Holding up a hand, Alana ticked off all the participants. “Mr. Wayne, the interns, the legal department, the mail carrier, the delivery guy who brings lunch, me and—”

“Stop,” Nyssa interrupted before saying, “You’re all fired.”

The younger woman began to laugh. “You love us.”

“I
tolerate
you.
Tolerate.”
She pointed at Alana. “Stop laughing. Stop it right now, dammit. I’m putting you out.”

Alana smirked as she sat back. “You get rid of me and you get rid of the one who knows how to properly intimidate those who irritate you.”

“
You
irritate me.”

“I also make sure your iron fist falls like a war hammer
before
giving you lists of all the places you can go to get your favorite designer shit for prices that would make a drag queen faint.”

Goddammit.

“All right,
you
get to stay.” Nyssa jerked her head. “But everyone else is fired…because the sight of their faces annoys me.” She picked up her messages.

“Keep on telling yourself that. Perhaps you’ll start to believe it.”

Fighting a smile, Nyssa slipped into her office and closed the door, determined not to wander behind Sansone like a lost puppy. Their talks had been few and far between last night. It was almost as if he were trying to fuck away the memory of James. And she’d let him. Nyssa had taken everything he had to give and gave back twice as much. He’d been there when she needed him, like he always
was. Her anxiety hadn’t lasted long because, like the shadow he often played, Sansone had been right behind her.

Sighing, she flopped down into her desk chair and did a quick spin before going through mail and notes Alana had written. She stopped upon seeing one in particular.

James…

Eye twitching, she crumbled up the note. He just wouldn’t
disappear, would he? He had to continuously remind her of what he’d done. He had to make himself seen because he couldn’t seem to grasp that he no longer had a say in what she did and didn’t do. His ego would never allow that. At one point she’d found his commanding nature attractive but now, compared to Sansone, James simply looked like a little boy still chasing his favorite toy car around, attempting to get it back after someone else took it.

James had never understood rejection and wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of it. Over the years she’d had her fair share of overzealous pricks with too much money and too much time on their hands, but this one rankled her more than most. Why? Because at one point she’d been planning a life with him. She’d thought she had found the thing that little girls dreamed of and grown women searched for. She’d thought she’d found…what she had with Sansone.

As if materialized from her very thoughts, he came strolling into her office and flopped back on her love seat, completely unaware of the panic currently choking her.

“Have you noticed,” Sansone questioned mildly, “that Luc and Sammie have been extremely quiet lately?”

She blinked, trying to find her voice while controlling the inclination to blurt, “I’m in love with you!” What would happen the moment
those
words left her mouth?

Heart hammering, Nyssa cleared her throat. “Uh…
have they been quiet or have we been having sex in every place imaginable?” There. She’d put them firmly on a neutral subject. Deflection had become her best gift over the course of their ridiculously complicated relationship. She hadn’t let it slip as of yet and she wouldn’t now.

He grunted. “A little bit of both, methinks.”

“Now that you mention it,” she said, feeling fully in control of her impulses now, “
I haven’t heard Sammie on her radio broadcast lately. I should probably check on her.”

“And I need to go back to visiting the Trenton home with Luc. I’ve been neglecting my duties lately,” he replied, mentioning the orphanage where Luciano had grown up. He was currently relocating it to a better part of town. Sansone spent a majority of his time there, mentoring the younger kids and donating funds to keep things running like clockwork. Occasionally Nyssa visited with him, enjoying her time with the toddlers, wondering if she’d ever get to the point where she’d be a mother—wondering if she’d be a mother with the man lying next to her.

The fear of failure held her desires in a chokehold. She’d seen so many relationships fail in their line of work.
So many couples who appeared to have it all, just to walk away angry and torn apart.
Her own relationship with James served as an example of that very thing. She didn’t want that for her and Sansone. She needed to be sure that this was the end-all, be-all for both herself and Sansone before either of them did damage that couldn’t be repaired.

“They should really stop avoiding the inevitable and admit that they’re meant for one another,” Sansone stated.

Nyssa shrugged. “I think they’re scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of the unknown. Neither one of them is sure the other is really all in. It’s keeping them both from crossing over.”

“Hmm.”

She caught his stare. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That
hmm.
What was that?”

He closed his eyes. “It was nothing.”

“That’s a lie.” Nyssa sat up. “It was definitely
something.
You never make that noise unless it’s
something.”

“Maybe this time, it was simply a noise.”

She wasn’t buying it and opened her mouth to tell him that very thing when a soft knock on her office door stopped her.

Looking up, she found what appeared to be a delivery guy with a bouquet of flowers standing there. “Miss Blackwell?”

Nyssa shot a questioning glance at Sansone who simply shrugged before she stood and walked toward the doorway. Taking the flowers from him, she said, “Let me get you a tip.”

He shook his head. “No need, ma’am. It’s already been taken care of.”

“Oookay…” she replied slowly as he tipped his hat and left her there.

Turning the small vase about, she looked for a card, and once her eyes landed on one she let out an exasperated breath. “Jesus Christ…”

Dinner?–James

A hand reached past her and snatched the small piece of paper. She turned just as Sansone crumbled it. “What part of
no
is he not understanding?”

Nyssa sucked in a deep breath. “He’s persistent. That’s been his game since we first met. He sent flowers, candy, whatever he could until I agreed to just have coffee. No matter how many times I refused, it only made him work harder. Part of me believes that’s why he was so successful.” Playing with a few of the petals, she sighed. “I don’t know how long he’s in town or exactly what he’s here for but I can say, in all honesty, that he won’t stop until I agree.” It was true. She knew it like she knew that whatever affection she’d had for him died the day he depreciated what she thought
she meant to him.

But he’d given her something amazing, hadn’t he? Something frightening yet incredible. Something she could never give up, no matter how many times she’d said she would. But she could never truly enjoy it without allowing past insecurities to haunt her. She refused to open a new chapter with Sansone because the last one was still bookmarked. Perhaps it was time to end that.

“Which will be never.”
Sansone snarled, bringing her thoughts to a halt. “He doesn’t get to talk to you. He doesn’t get to look at you. Sometimes we want what we just can’t have.”

“Logically what you’re saying is right.” She walked away to place the vase on the edge of her desk.

“But?” he hedged.

Turning around, she leaned back, folding her arms across her chest. “There shouldn’t be a ‘but’.”

His jaw worked. “And yet there is, isn’t there?”

She squeezed her biceps. “But I’m thinking this is one particular battle that has been a long time coming. In the light of day I need to put it to rest.”

“Why?”

Nyssa frowned. “Why what?”

“Why do you need to put something to rest that should already be dead?” He took a step forward.

“You said it yourself last night. He still has the ability to pull a response out of me.” Rubbing the back of her neck, she added, “I want it to stop. I can’t keep associating this”—Nyssa waved a hand between the two of them—“with
that.”
She then waved a hand at the flowers.

“And you need to sit across from him in a steakhouse to make it stop?”

“I’m sensing tone.”

“You’re fucking right you’re sensing tone,” he responded. “I want you far,
far
away from him.”

“Why are you getting so worked up?”

“Because I don’t want whatever bullshit he tells you to damage all the progress we’ve made.”

She blinked as irritationality quickly sparked in her chest. “
What you’re saying is that you
honestly
believe
he
could make me forget that I crawl into
your
bed every other night.”

“That’s not—”

“What you’re telling me is that
he
has the ability to completely erase how I spoon-fed you chicken noodle soup just a week ago after you managed to catch a cold because you didn’t listen to me when I told you to stop sleeping with the window open on the nights I’m not there.”

“I didn’t—”

“What you’re basically informing me,” she said, her voice dropping to a low, hard, whisper, “is that
he
can come along, snap his fingers, and I’ll pretend like I never even knew you.”