Coming Home (9 page)

"I can imagine," Nicole murmured. "Parents usually have very definite ideas about what they want their children to do."

"You sound like you speak from experience?" Maria asked as she spooned two bowls of the salad and sat next to Nicole.

"Of course. My mother had my life all mapped out from a very young age. The best schools, the best people, an excellent college where I could meet a young man from the same background as myself and sink my hooks into him."

Maria laughed out loud.

"You think I'm kidding?"

"No, no," Maria said. "She sounds much as your father described her. How did they ever end up married?"

"Mother once told me she'd been young and foolish and he'd been handsome and virile and that was the beginning. He was fresh out of school, a young vet working for her father. I was the product of what was supposed to be a summer fling. They got married, got miserable and got divorced. I don't remember much of the time they were together. Just lots of fighting."

"I'm sure neither regrets the marriage, since you were the result," Maria said, reaching over to squeeze Nicole's hand.

"Hey, don't feel sorry for me," Nicole insisted. "I was not an unhappy 'divorced' kid. My childhood would have been much worse if they'd stayed together. By splitting up, they each remained the unique people they are...if they hadn't, I imagine my father would have given in and become someone very different."

"That would have been a tragedy."

Nicole nodded, unwilling to even think of her father becoming the kind of man her mother preferred: aloof, sophisticated, driven for success. She shuddered at the thought.

"I had the best of both worlds. Culture, world travel, the best education from my mother...and lots of normal kid happiness with Dad." Nicole finished her fruit salad. Still hungry, she got up, helped herself to some more and returned to the table.

"I suppose she wasn’t happy about your career choice.”

"You got that right! But she didn't say too much. I guess she figured me becoming a vet was better than if I’d gotten married as a teenager to someone she deemed totally unsuitable."

Maria nodded as she sipped her coffee. "Then it all worked out for the best. Look how well life has treated you."

The doorbell rang before Nicole could reply. As Maria went to answer, Nicole thought about what she'd said. Life had indeed treated her well. Certainly better than she'd expected at seventeen. It had been at this very table, with her Dad sipping coffee out of possibly the same cup she held in her hand, that she'd broken down in tears and told him she was pregnant.

It still bothered her to remember the look of pain on his face. But he'd forced his own feelings aside to comfort her, holding her close while she cried and worried aloud about having to admit her pregnancy to her mother. He hadn't pressed her for answers, simply asking once, "The Clayton boy...he's the father?"

She'd nodded miserably and responded, "I've waited and waited to hear from him. He promised he'd call me, but he's been gone for three weeks and I haven't heard a word."

"I'll take care of this, Nicky. Don't you worry."

Nicole shook off the memories as she heard footsteps entering the kitchen. Expecting to see Maria, she flinched as she saw it was Wyatt standing just behind her. He wore his typical tight jeans and cotton shirt, managing to look cool and comfortable in spite of the heat of the morning.

"How's Winnie?" she asked.

"Better today, trying to scratch at her stitches, just like you said she would. I kept her distracted yesterday, and Simone's keeping a close eye on her now."

Nicole nodded and sipped at her coffee, wondering why she suddenly felt tongue-tied around Wyatt. They'd spent a grueling night together, yet now she found herself confused by his friendly smile and gentle tone. It was almost better when he'd been growling at her. It had been easier to keep her guard up.

"You up for a road trip today?"

She nodded. "I suppose. Just what did you have in mind?" Even as she said the words, she cursed herself for the slightly flirtatious tone he had to have heard.

He was courteous enough to pretend not to. “There's a ranch over near the east coast, south of St. Augustine, with a pretty interesting stallion for stud. The owner and I have been corresponding, but I'd really like for you to check him out, if you don't mind."

"And you're going over today? On a Sunday?"

"Sure. It's one of the few times I can get away for an entire afternoon."

"All right, just let me change," she murmured as she stood from the table.

He glanced over her, and his eyes widened, as if he’d noticed for the first time that she wasn’t exactly dressed for visitors. She wore a pair of short, summery pajamas. They were light pink cotton, designed for coolness and comfort. The neckline was scooped, modest really, but the fabric was thin, clingy. Beneath, she wore just a skimpy pair of panties—no bra.

As he continued to stare at her, she felt her skin begin to prickle. Her nipples tightened, and she grabbed a newspaper off the table and hugged it to her chest. The smear of black ink on pink fabric couldn’t possibly be worse than having him see just how quickly, and easily, he affected her.

“Back in a few,” she mumbled, having to move right by him to leave the kitchen. They didn't touch, yet she imagined she could feel the faintest brush of their bodies.

The air conditioned house suddenly felt a lot hotter than it had a few minutes ago. And though her loose pajama shorts swished as she walked, the material suddenly felt a little tighter. Or she’d just become a whole lot more sensitive to every sensation against her skin.

All because of him.

Reaching the stairs, she paused, looked back at him, and caught his appreciative stare. He’d been ogling her butt as she walked by. She ruthlessly forced away the tiny thrill of pleasure that came with that realization.

"Damn, Nick, you always could fill out a pair of shorts," he said with an I-can’t-help-it-I’m-male shrug.

Closing her eyes, she tried to focus. A voice inside told her she was crazy to consider doing this. Staying away from Wyatt was not only good for her own peace of mind but for her actual sanity.

Then she thought about the promise she’d made to her father’s doctor. Considered his health and how worried he’d be if he thought she wasn’t really taking care of his practice for him. And she knew she had to do it.

Just a job, that’s all it is
.

Right. It was strictly work. They were driving down to look at a prize animal, that was all.

How much trouble could she possibly get into?

She was in big trouble. Major trouble.

Sitting with Wyatt in his truck during the ride from the airport the night she'd arrived had been bad. His animosity had smothered her with every mile. Since they'd worked together to save Winnie, however, he seemed to have gotten over his anger. On today's drive, he'd been perfectly polite—charming even. Wyatt when angry was formidable...when charming he was utterly lethal.

They were on the highway, having just left the ranch where they'd spent a good part of the afternoon. The drive to the coast had taken two endless hours, and Nicole dreaded the return trip. She didn't know if she could defend herself if Wyatt continued to be so darned friendly.

"So, what do you think of Tommy's Fancy?" she finally asked, breaking the silence in the cab of the truck. "Is he a suitable breeding candidate for Sultan's Daughter?"

"I think I'd rather just buy him," Wyatt admitted.

Nicole laughed out loud, then realized Wyatt was completely serious. "That would be a pretty major expenditure."

"What, you think I can't afford it? I'm not hurting. Tommy's Fancy would be a very nice addition to the Four C."

"I thought you told Brady you weren't in the market for any new stock," she finally replied.

"Listening at key holes?"

She shrugged. "You two were loud enough to be heard outside."

"Well, as far as Brady goes, I wouldn't trust him to buy a mule. The man's got no sense for animals. Now, I'll give him credit, he's very good at hobnobbing with the racing set. We've made a few sales I didn't anticipate because of him."

"Gee, you're even complimenting your cousin today. What's gotten into you?"

He flashed her a sudden grin. "I dunno. Maybe it's the sea air. How about we stop at the beach for a quick swim?"

Nicole laughed again, then realized he was completely serious. "But...we don't have bathing suits!"

"There are dozens of tourist shops along the beach in St. Augustine. I'm sure we could easily find something to wear. Come on, Nick, whaddya say? I know you love to swim in the ocean."

She couldn't respond. Her mouth went dry and her legs shook as she remembered the last time she’d been swimming with Wyatt. They'd driven down to the shore the night before he and Brady were scheduled to leave for Europe to visit Wyatt's mother and her new husband. Their relationship still a secret, Nicole had been anxious to find a place where no one they knew would spot them. She didn’t want any scenes or fighting between the cousins before they left to spend a month together overseas.

They'd made love and held each other in the sand. They’d whispered sweet declarations, and had promised to keep in touch constantly, both for the rest of August, and for the coming year. Because, by the time Wyatt got back from Europe, Nicole would already be back in Maryland, starting her freshman year of college, and Wyatt would quickly have to get back to his university as well.

That night had haunted her memories for a very long time. It was the last time she’d felt the absolute joy of making love with someone she loved with all her heart and soul.

"It's been a long time," she finally managed to say.

"Let's do it," he said as he pulled off the highway exit.

True to his word, Wyatt found a touristy beach shop almost immediately. Nicole dug through racks of swimsuits, longing for a plain one-piece. All she could find were beach bunny bikinis. Finally, tired of Wyatt calling to her under the door of the changing room, she chose a hot pink two-piece that she'd never have been caught dead in at her club in Baltimore.

"Finally!" he admonished when she slipped out of the dressing room with the bikini hidden behind her back. "I've already bought a couple of towels."

Nicole quickly paid for her suit, then asked the cashier if she could change into it before leaving the store. The teenage girl at the checkout shrugged with disinterest.

Fifteen minutes later they stood on a surprisingly un-crowded beach. It was a Sunday afternoon, on a hot summer day, but for the most part, the only other people around were surfers. Since there were no lifeguards, she assumed most of the tourists and local families had another popular spot.

Nicole watched as Wyatt began to pull his clothes off. She couldn't seem to make her eyes move away as he caught the bottom of his tee shirt and tugged it up. Each inch of skin he revealed was tanned, smooth, finely toned.

Her heart thudded and her breath thickened; she had trouble pushing it out of her mouth.

His hands went to his waist, and he unfastened his jeans. Now there was no need to force every breath. She simply forgot to breathe at all.

But as he dropped the pants to the ground, Nicole saw his long, brightly colored surfer trunks beneath them, and laughed out loud.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, I guess I just have a hard time picturing you as the 'hang ten' type," she said between chuckles.

"They aren't my usual style," he admitted with a heavy sigh. "But average black trunks were unavailable, so it was either these or those unattractive men's bikinis. And, aside from the fact that I wouldn’t be caught dead in one, I doubted I could find one that would fit."

He grinned an evil grin, forcing her mind to remember exactly how he was built. She shivered in spite of the heat of the day. No, she didn't imagine some skimpy suit would ever have covered Wyatt Clayton.

"Cool it," she muttered under her breath.

She couldn't. She tried forcing a smile to her lips, but it faded as she studied the trunks hanging below the tan line on his lean hips. The hair on his chest tapered down to a soft covering on his flat belly, and disappeared into the waistband of his suit. Wyatt turned around to lay his shirt on the towel, and Nicole saw how the soft material cupped his taut butt. She nearly groaned out loud.

She bit her lip as she watched him turn and walk toward her, his muscles rippling beneath his skin with each step. Nicole shivered again. Raw lust coursed through her veins, so unfamiliar she nearly didn't recognize it. The last time she'd felt such sharp—nearly painful—physical desire had been with this same man, on a beach near here, a long time ago.

"Well? Are you coming?" he asked softly.

She nearly snapped back a very sexual retort, but bit her tongue in time. She wasn’t going to allow Wyatt to see how much the sight of him affected her. No way would he ever know her body was betraying her mind and she'd consider dropping to the sand with him in a heartbeat with just a little provocation--one kiss, a touch, a hot, thorough stare. Hell, a single word.