From This Moment On (6 page)

“It’s been a while for me, too
."

Unexpected jealousy hit her at the vision of Marcus standing in this kitchen with another woman that he’d picked up for a one-night stand. She had no claim on him, no right to that tightening of her chest.

But she felt it anyway.

Especially since she could place a million-dollar bet on the fact that she was the only woman who had ever dozed off...before they’d even had their first kiss.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you last night.”

His lips finally moved up into a small smile. He’d been so serious until now that she was beyond surprised to see the corners of his mouth twitch in an upward direction. Those butterflies that had gathered in her belly at her first sight of him in the club, so big and strong-looking, started flying in every direction at his smile
.

She still wanted to kiss him, of course, but suddenly, she wanted to see him smile, too. Wanted to see his chocolate-brown eyes look at her with laughter and know that she was responsible for it.

“You were clearly exhausted.” He wasn’t smiling anymore, but his gaze was warm. Giving. He handed her a cup of coffee. “I didn’t mind being your pillow for the night.”

That same sweet feeling that had come over her when she’d learned what a good son and brother he was stole through her again. Nicola was sure any other guy would have been angry with her right now, would have been expecting her to drop to her knees, unzip his pants, and make up for what she hadn’t given him last night. But Marcus seemed more concerned about how she was feeling than he was with being left high and dry.

If he’d been coming at her aggressively demanding a do-over, she would have kicked him straight to the curb and been out of there so fast his head would spin. Instead, she was trying to find her footing in this strange new world where she’d finally met someone who didn’t seem to want anything from her at all.

Not her fame, which he clearly didn’t know about, and not even her body, which she’d outright offered to him less than a dozen hours ago...verbally, at least.

“You were a really great pillow.”

This time, the smile he gave her had her smiling back. She wasn’t a big believer in things she couldn’t see, taste, hear or touch, but in that moment she could have sworn an invisible ribbon reached out between them and wrapped itself around them both.

No longer quite as ready to run, she sat on one of the bar stools. “Please, sit with me
."

Last night she hadn’t wanted to know anything about him beyond whether or not he could make her scream with pleasure. But since they hadn’t even gotten near first base due to her strangely narcoleptic behavior, she decided to give in to her urge to find out more about the mystery man who’d held her hand while she slept soundly for the first time in ages.

Marcus hesitated for several seconds, and just when she thought he was going to refuse her invitation, he picked up his cup and walked toward her.

“So, I take it you don’t live in San Francisco, either?”

He shook his head. “Napa Valley.”

“I’ve driven through it a couple of times and the area is really beautiful.” She left off the fact that she’d been there to play a couple of private gigs for some high-profile Napa residents. She sipped at her coffee again. “But I’m not much of a wine drinker.” She shrugged. “I never know what to order with what
."

If she were being straight about who she was and what she did, she would have told him that even a light buzz made it hard for her to keep hold of her control. And with so many people surrounding her all the time asking her questions, coming at her with contracts and offers, she had to work double time to remain fully present and lucid. Which was why she rarely drank anything at all. Only with Kenny had she made that mistake. And how she’d paid for it
.

“Are you in the wine business
?"

He nodded, then said, “You don’t live here, either, do you?”

She hadn’t missed the fact that while he’d answered her question, he’d quickly changed the subject afterward
.

It was a reminder that this was just small talk between two strangers who were never going to see each other again. She shouldn’t be upset that he didn’t want to tell her where he worked. He was probably afraid she’d hunt him down and become a big nuisance. No doubt plenty of girls had tried to latch onto him over the years
.

Besides, she wasn’t exactly gung-ho about sharing a bunch of details about her life with him, was she?

Nearly as vague as he’d been, she said, “I’m from a teeny, tiny little town in upstate New York, but I’ve always loved the west coast.”

There. That was perfectly impersonal. They were both behaving like two rational adults who had almost made the mistake of having a one-night stand, but had somehow slipped out of the night unscathed.

She should be happy.

But she wasn’t.

Because for a few wonderful minutes the previous night, she’d reveled in irrational, unfettered desire and anticipation.

Rational sucked by comparison
.

She swiveled on her stool to face him more directly. “I’m still really embarrassed about calling your mother like that.”

The last thing she expected was for his laughter to rumble through the room
.

It was such a beautiful sound—rich and deep, if a bit rusty—that she had a sudden vision of capturing it like the sea witch had Ariel’s voice in the
Little Mermaid
movie, in a little locket she could wear around her neck and take out to replay whenever she needed a pick-me-up.

“Trust me,” he told her, “I’m sure she enjoyed talking with you. A great deal.”

“What are you going to tell her?” She quickly clarified, “About me, I mean, and the question I asked her about you.”

“If you were safe with me
?"

Her breath left her in a whoosh and it was all she could do just to nod as the sensual tension between them jumped up a notch.

But instead of dropping it, she said, “I was safe with you,” barely above a whisper. Almost before she realized it, she was reaching out to touch his hand, only inches away
.

She wished she’d been awake for long enough to really appreciate his holding her hand. Instead, she’d slept through some of the most wonderful moments of her life—Marcus’s hands holding hers, his warmth cradling her.

Now, as the sunlight streamed in through the large kitchen windows of his brother’s house, she pulled her hand back barely an inch before she would have made contact.

“What do you want me to tell her?”

She lifted her eyes from his large hands, hands she still couldn’t stop wishing were holding her, caressing her, and despite the warm sun coming in, a shiver went through her as she looked up at him
.

“Maybe,” she said slowly, “you could tell her you made a new friend last night.”

“A new friend.”

As her words came back at her in his deliciously low voice, she thought,
I wish it were actually true. I wish we actually were friends. And more. So much more.

She licked her lips and his eyes followed the path of her tongue. When his gaze met hers again, the heat from the night before was back in spades.

She knew he had to see it in her gaze, too. A part of her thought she should try to hide it, but nothing had changed between last night and this morning. She was still senselessly attracted to him
.

On the verge of saying something else to try and break the sensual tension between them, she suddenly wondered why she was so intent on pushing him away. Marcus was gorgeous, the best-looking man she’d met in forever. Okay, so last night hadn’t worked out, but she was in town for several more
.

Oh God, she was terrible at this, didn’t have the first clue how to proposition Marcus for the second time in twenty-four hours. Last night, she’d been able to play off the loud music, the dark lighting, her leather dress and heels. But sitting here in a kitchen drinking coffee in an oversized sweatshirt...she had none of those sexy trappings to help her find her way.

The thing was, she already knew she’d regret it like crazy if she walked away from Marcus without even trying
.

One night. She deserved one night with a guy like this, didn’t she? Just because she’d blown last night by falling asleep, didn’t mean she should give up. If that had been how she’d approached the music business, she never would have gone beyond playing open mics at coffee shops.

Of course, she’d have to tell him who she was if he agreed to another night with her. Heck, she knew she needed to tell him anyway. How unfair would it be to him if he walked out of here and got a call from one of his friends or family asking him why he’d been holding out on them about being Nico’s newest flame?

Not looking forward to that part of the conversation one bit, she decided to lead with, “I’m going to be in the city for a few more nights.” She picked up her cup again and gulped the rest of the coffee.

His expression was unreadable. She didn’t have the first clue what he was going to say to her proposition. But she knew she needed to make it anyway, or forever brand herself a coward.

Her throat felt tight and dry as she said, “I’ve got to get going in a few minutes, but I was wondering if maybe you’d like to try and get together tonight
?"

She swore she saw heat flare in his eyes, the heat neither of them had been able to bank
. Oh please, please, please let him say yes!
Because now that she’d put herself out there, now that she’d admitted what she wanted—him!—she couldn’t stand the thought of not getting it.

“How old are you, Nicola?”

“Twenty-five.” She tried not to say it defensively.

“I’m thirty-six.” He pushed off his stool and picked up both coffee cups as he headed for the sink. “I shouldn’t have been in that club last night.” His shoulders were tense as he explained, “I was angry about something and I thought I could get over it by going to a club and taking someone home for sex.”

It was the first time either of them had used the word.

Sex.

One syllable, three little letters, sizzled between them. And, oh, it made her want him more than ever, even though he was trying to use the word to back away from her, trying to set up reasons why they couldn’t have their night.

Her parents had always said what a stubborn child she’d been, and nothing had changed for her as an adult. If anything, her experiences in the music business, dealing with almost constant rejection and having to bounce back from it, had only made her more stubborn
.

“I had my reasons, too,” she told him. Only, those reasons had changed. Last night had been all about getting something everyone already thought she had.

This morning she didn’t care about anyone else, didn’t give a fig for what a bunch of strangers thought about her. Now her reasons were all about wanting Marcus entirely for herself.

“Even if I weren’t too old for you—”

Nicola cut him off. “We’re both adults.”

He looked at her, head to toe, and she knew he was taking in the too-big sweatshirt that went past her knees. Despite the fact that she knew she looked really, really young with no makeup on, she lifted her chin and said, “You thought I looked plenty old enough last night.”

His jaw tightened. “Last night was a mistake. And if you hadn’t fallen asleep it would have been a truly huge mistake.”

Wow. That hurt.

She had to turn away from him on the stool and scoot off so that he wouldn’t see just how bad his words had made her feel. She’d thought she was a pro at letting rejection just bounce right off her. Turned out she had a long way to go, if only a few words from Marcus could make her feel like crumbling inside.

“Nicola.”

She didn’t turn around to face him when he said her name, didn’t stop heading for the couch where she hoped her shoes and purse were. She stripped off the sweatshirt while she walked, wanting nothing more than to just leave, to get the heck out of the house and drown herself in work, the work she’d been drowning in for the past six months.

She was just bending down to pick up her shoes when Marcus beat her to them.

“It’s not your fault. Nothing that did or didn’t happen is your fault.”

She held out her hand and willed it not to shake. “Can I have my shoes, please?”

For a few seconds, she wasn’t sure he was going to give them to her, but then, he finally handed them over.

She made sure their fingertips didn’t touch as she took them from him, then sat down on the edge of the coffee table to slip them on. Somehow she was going to keep it together long enough to sweep out of the house like a woman who couldn’t care less if one man found her attractive or not. There were plenty of others who wanted her. One day, when she was feeling stupid and reckless again, she would find one of them
.

“You’re beautiful, Nicola.”

She’d been certain nothing he could have said would have stopped her from stomping out of there.