For the Love of Nick (11 page)

N
ICK SLEPT
with Danielle that night, and the next, both against his better judgement.

But he was discovering, when it came to Danielle and his emotions, there was little better judgement to be found. They made love, they talked, they laughed.

And continued to play at being engaged for Nick’s family.

But though staying had been his own choice, it turned out to be incredibly difficult, because with each passing day he became more and more sure of the one thing Danielle wouldn’t want to hear.

They were meant to be together.

One morning, he woke up to an empty bed. When he surged up with a moment of panic, Sadie opened one eye from her perch on the floor and sent him a baleful stare.

“Well, if you’re still here, she must be, too,” he decided, relaxing.

Without comment, Sadie closed her eye, ignoring him.

But when Danielle came out of the bathroom, fully dressed, Sadie leaped up to be petted.

“Hey,” Nick said softly, still prone. “Come back to bed and wake me up.”

“You look awake to me.”

“I’m having a nightmare. Comfort me.”

She reached down and clipped Sadie’s leash. “Sadie needs to be walked.”

With a sigh at leaving the warm, cozy bed, Nick rose, jammed his legs into his jeans and came up behind her. “How do you do that?” He stroked a finger over the shoulder left bare by her sleeveless sweater.

“She has to go—”

“Love me with all your heart during the night, then in the light of day pull back. Distance yourself.”

She went very still. “I don’t do any such thing.”

“Really?” He turned her to face him, and looked into her cool gray eyes. “You’re doing it right now. Working up a temper to avoid the real issue.”

“Which is?”

“Us.”

“Nick—”

“Why is that, Danielle? Why do you let me in only when I’ve got you naked and writhing and desperate for me to make you come—”

“I’m never desperate.”

She tried to turn away again but he pressed her into the door. “Wanna bet?” he asked silkily, his thumbs brushing the barest of touches on the very undersides of her breasts, a spot he knew by now made her stretch and purr like a stroked cat.

Her eyes fell closed. “That…won’t work.”

“Uh-huh.” He’d heard the helpless hitch in her voice, and made the movement again, this time reaching slightly higher, nearly to her nipples.

At the base of her neck, her pulse raced. He put his mouth there, tasting the spot, and she let out a little whimper.

“This is…” She trailed off to gasp when he dotted hot, wet, openmouthed kisses down her throat.

He lifted her, just enough to press his erection against the V of her shorts.

“Nick…what are you trying to prove?”

He could hardly remember. “Something about making you desperate for me,” he muttered, his mouth still full of her flesh.

“I’m…never desperate.”

But the words sounded satisfyingly weak when
he ran his hands up the backs of her thighs, spreading them open so he could step between them.

By the sound of her, she could barely get her words together. Good. Neither could he, damn it.

“The records,” she managed. “They should come today.”

He knew that, he’d wakened up knowing it, just as he knew she’d be out of here when they did arrive.

“This is it,” she said. “We shouldn’t—”

“Damn right, we shouldn’t. But we are.” Not wanting to hear all the reasons they were being fools, his mouth covered hers.

He knew the reasons, every one of them. The kiss obliterated it all from his mind the moment she surrendered with a cry and started kissing him back, hot and hard and wet.

He felt a blinding need, an intense stroke of emotion, and heat raced through his body, so that if he didn’t take her now, he would die. Then her shorts were gone, his jeans opened. Lifting her higher yet, he surged into her, making them both cry out. He wasn’t sure how he could continue to want her this way, this all-powerful, earth-shattering way, but the wanting consumed him.

“Nick…” It was a sob, torn from her throat, telling him she was consumed, too.

“Wrap your legs around my waist…there. Yeah,
there.
” Using the door, he thrust into her glorious, giving body, until with another keening cry, she came. Watching her fall apart, shuddering, mindless, his name on her lips, he followed her over the edge.

It was several moments before he could move, but he finally lifted his face from where he’d planted it against her neck.

Danielle’s head was thrown back against the door, her eyes closed, and he could feel her limbs still shaking. He would have touched her, but as his own limbs were still trembling like crazy, he was afraid to let go of his two fistfuls of her bottom, or he’d drop her.

Eyes still closed, she squirmed until he loosened his grip, then she reached for the clothes they’d scattered across the room.

Sweater held to her breasts, she turned to him, eyes miserable. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“This, as in making love?”

“This, as in playing house.” She shoved her legs into her shorts. “This pretending to be engaged.” She pulled on her sweater, forgetting her bra.
“This…” She gestured to the door that they’d just done it against.
“That.”

Before he could respond, there came a knock at that very door.

“Nick?” Maureen called through the wood. “Honey, Clint and I just opened some champagne with breakfast. A gift from our distributor. Bring your soon-to-be wife down, we’ll have a toast.”

Nick looked at Danielle, who gave him a long, solemn, sorrowed look that said
see? It’s wrong.

“Give us a minute,” Nick said.

Danielle just shook her head.

She didn’t want to play the game anymore, but that was okay, because neither did he. And it was time to tell her. He watched her search for a sock and find it. “I want the real thing, Danielle.”

The sock fell from her fingers. “You what?”

“I don’t want to pretend anymore, either. I want to sleep with you at night, wake up with you wrapped around me. I want to share your life, and have you share mine.”

“You’re crazy,” she whispered.

“Maybe.”

“You can’t want to share my life.
I
don’t want to share my life.”

“I love you, Danielle.”

Her expression shuttered and she turned away. Walking to the window, she stared down at the gardens, so alive with color. “That’s ridiculous. You don’t know me.”

“I think I do,” he said evenly, which was difficult, as she’d cut him deep with her disbelief.

“Okay, then.” Danielle’s shoulders were stiff. So was her neck. Hell, her entire body felt so tight she was going to crack and fall apart, limb by limb. “
I
don’t know
you.
”

“Just because you feel like your back is up against the wall,” he said, more quietly now, “isn’t a reason to lie to me.”

She whipped back to face him, a hot retort on her lips, but it died when she saw that while his voice had sounded confident, he was far from sure of himself.

Above all else, his love for her was shining in his eyes. “Oh, Nick.”

His jaw tightened. “You’re thrilled.”

Terrified, more like. How could facing his love be harder than facing Ted’s hatred? “We lead very different lives.”

“So?”

“So…you’ve told me yourself, your job takes you far and wide. You’re rarely home.”

“And I’ve also told you, I’ve enjoyed this break. So much that I’m thinking a little lifestyle change wouldn’t be a bad thing. I can still write, Danielle, and not vanish for months at a time.” His gaze deepened. “If it’s permanence you’re looking for.”

“That’s just it. I don’t know what I’m looking for.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“Yes, you do. You just don’t want to admit it. God forbid you share yourself—”

“I’ve tried that, thank you very much!”

“Not with me, you haven’t.” His eyes were hot. “Don’t lump me in with him, Danielle.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“I’m tired of beating my head against the wall to get you to trust me. To want me.”

“I want you, Nick. That’s never been the problem.”

“I’d rather have your trust.”

Her ribs felt too tight. Her stomach hurt. She needed air, badly. “I don’t do trust.” She found her shoes, shoved them on.

“You do at night.”

Damn it, where was Sadie’s leash?

“You trust me when it’s dark,” he said behind her. “When you can fool yourself into believing it’s just sex, it’s just comfort, it’s just temporary.”

The leash was already on Sadie. Grabbing it, she faced Nick, seeing all his anger and hurt, which made her heart clench tighter.

“But it’s in the light of day that the challenge comes,” he guessed correctly. “Well, guess what, Danielle? I’m not like him, and I’m never going to be. I’m never going to shove you into some mold, force you to do things you don’t want to do. I’m not interested in changing you, or asking you to be someone you’re not. I want you, just as you are.” He put his hand over hers on the door handle. “But I won’t have you look at me with that look, the one that says you’re wondering how long before I show my true colors, the one that says that no matter how often you let me make love to you, you’re still going to hold back a portion of your heart.”

“Nick, stop. Please stop.” God, she had to think.
Breathe.
She hauled open the door.

Sadie whined, not happy with the tension, and Danielle gave a little tug on the leash. “Come.”

Sadie merely ducked her head and used her weight to tug back.

“Running, Danielle?” Nick asked while she played tug-of-war with the dog.

Damn him for not understanding. This wasn’t easy for her, it—

With another whine, Sadie sat on Nick’s feet.

“You’ve run before,” Nick noted, putting a hand on Sadie’s head. “Hasn’t worked for you yet. Why don’t you take a stand and work this out?”

Danielle glanced down at her dog, who—she couldn’t believe it—refused to budge.

“Go ahead,” Nick suggested. “Run. Keep on running. Don’t let me in. Don’t acknowledge how I feel for you. You’ll be happier that way. Right?”

What did he know about it? “Come on, Sadie.” She stepped outside the room, but Sadie didn’t.

“Leave her.” Nick’s eyes dared her. “If air is all you need.”

“You don’t even like her.”

His eyes roamed over her before he shook his head. “Still not seeing me, I see.”

She stared back at him, tough and tense. He thought he loved her. My God.
Loved
her. She couldn’t breathe again, and dropping the leash, she ran for the trails.

Alone.

As always, alone.

N
ICK LOOKED DOWN
at Sadie.

From her perch on his feet—which were quickly losing circulation—she shot him a reproachful, hurt look, as if this mess was all his fault.

“Hey, you’re the one who decided to stay here,” he pointed out.

Sadie butted his stomach with her head, tilting her face up to blink huge, melting eyes at him.

“Oh, no. Don’t give me that. I’m second fiddle and I know it. You should have gone with her.”

Sadie let out a long sigh. A pathetic sigh. A poor-me sigh.

“Ah hell.” He shoved his fingers through his hair and crouched down. “You know I’ve grown stupidly attached, right? To the both of you?”

Sadie leaned on him, knocking him to his butt on the floor, and something inside him warmed slightly as she crawled into his lap. “Fine mess, huh?” he muttered, trying to be tough but it was hard with a hundred and fifty pounds of dog sitting on him. Giving up, he wrapped his arms around the damn dog—not an easy feat—and gave her a hug.

The big oaf put her head on his shoulder and let out a long strand of drool, right down his back. He hardly noticed. “It’s going to be okay,” he told her.
Somehow.

But how? He could still picture the glitter of tears in Danielle’s eyes as he told her he loved her.

His love made her nervous.

His heart cracked at that, and a good amount of his temper drained. But for a man who hadn’t even imagined his own happily-ever-after, not quite yet, he had a lot of expectations.

Like being loved back.

N
ICK TOOK
S
ADIE
out back. They sat on the large deck overlooking the gardens, and beyond that, the hillside dotted with bike trails. Far below lay an open meadow, filled with green.

It was a beautiful spot, and Nick knew if peace was what Danielle was seeking, she’d find it out there on the trails.

Maureen came outside and sat by him. “Two things,” she said in her usual blunt style. “I had a friend at the station run that Ted of yours.”

He could tell by the look on her face she’d found something. “And?” he asked.

“Model citizen. Dedicated worker. Always pays his bills, yadda, yadda.”

“But? I think I sense a but at the end of that sentence.”

“Oh, yeah, there’s a but. Several charges of aggravated assault.”

“Convicted?”

“Nope. All the charges were eventually dropped.
But if you take those, along with the fact he was quietly released from two different private investing firms over the past five years for the same reason, again no charges filed, you get a different picture of this so-called model citizen. Do you know this hot-head?”

“Not personally.” A grimness settled over him. “What’s the second thing?”

“Did you go trampling through my newly planted veggies against the east wall of the inn?”

“Are you kidding? And risk certain death?” When she didn’t smile, he glanced at Sadie, wondering if she could possibly charm Maureen into forgiveness, for Maureen’s possessive feelings about her gardens had become well-known. “Are you sure they’re people prints?”

“They’re not only people prints, they’re male prints. Definitely not Clint’s though, he wouldn’t dare. Plus, they’re too big.” She narrowed her eyes at his feet.

“Innocent,” he swore, lifting his hands. “But who’d want to be peeking in the windows—”
Ah, hell.

Ted, aggravated assaulter, dog abuser and all-around asshole.