Millionaire in a Stetson (9 page)

“I did.”

“How old were you?”

“Twenty-two. I joined the navy right after.”

“Did it hurt for long?”

He gave in to the urge to rub his hand over the small of her back. “It gets better. You must miss yours a lot.”

“I do.” Another silence. “She wasn’t exactly a conventional mother.”

“How so?” Sawyer struggled to contain his eagerness. This was exactly the kind of conversation he’d been hoping to have.

The bartender banged something beside them, causing Niki to still. Sawyer held his breath.

But then the man moved on, obviously packing up the liquor.

“She was an orphan,” said Niki. “Her parents died in a car accident when she was eleven.”

Sawyer hadn’t known that. Interesting that it wasn’t something he’d come across in his research.

“She was in and out of a few foster homes. She ran away from the last one when she was fifteen, taking care of herself after that. She called it ‘living by her wits.’ Sometimes it meant sleeping with wealthy men. Not that they paid her for sex.”

“I didn’t assume—”

“They usually gave her a place to stay. You know, downtown apartments while their families lived in the suburbs. Things like that. They bought her gifts, gave her advice. She told me she listened carefully to everything they said, overheard hundreds of telephone conversations, and eventually discovered the stock market.”

Sawyer found himself grudgingly admiring Gabriella.

“She studied hard and learned how to put the pieces together. Eventually, she had enough money to take care of herself. But she still kept up the affairs. I think she felt safer with men who could never claim her as their own.”

Niki fell to silence. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

Neither did Sawyer. He was shocked at her openness. Not that she’d revealed her mother’s name. And she did assume he thought she was from Boston.

“Oh, I remember,” said Niki. “I had an unconventional childhood. That was my point. Ga— My mother and I were more like sisters or friends. She was only eighteen when she had me, and nobody had ever taught her how to be a mother, so she assumed what she found fun, I would find fun. And once she had money, we played our way from Rio to the South of France.”

“How did you go to school?”

Niki laughed. “Off and on. Luckily, I was smart, and I caught up easily.”

“I’m convinced you’re intelligent,” Sawyer told her honestly. “What happened to the money?”

“What do you mean?”

He chose his words carefully. “You’re living with your brothers. I assume that means that money’s gone?” It would also give her a strong motive for blackmailing the people in the diary.

“The money’s not gone,” she told him softly.

The storm continued to rumble above them. Aided by their cell phones and the occasional flashlight, people were making their way toward the exit. The bartender had loaded up a cart of supplies and was pushing them away.

“Yet, you’re here,” Sawyer said to Niki. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, but she was still a dim outline in front of him.

“I’m here to meet my brothers.”

“Are you staying?”

A soft sigh escaped from her lips, and she rested her hand on his thigh. “Some days, I wish I could.”

There were so many things he wanted to ask her, so many things he didn’t dare.

He put his hand on top of hers. “Where are you sleeping tonight?”

As soon as the words were out, he could have kicked himself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—I wasn’t asking—I wasn’t making you an offer. Not that I wouldn’t make you an offer.” Sawyer didn’t know what was the matter with him. He didn’t ramble like this. He simply didn’t.

She hadn’t responded.

“I’m not trying to flirt,” he assured her. “But it does seem to be some kind of a knee-jerk reaction when it comes to you.”

Her finger went across his lips. “You should probably stop talking.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sleeping at the Mayor’s mansion. Seth Jacobs is Katrina’s oldest brother.”

Sawyer barely heard the words. Niki’s index finger was soft and warm across his lips, and it was all he could do not to kiss it, draw it into his mouth, curl his tongue around it.

His hand wrapped around her waist. He widened his knees, drawing her closer still. The rain pounded on the metal roof, even as stillness closed in around them. They were all alone in the corner of the building.

He kissed her finger.

She sucked in a breath, but didn’t pull it away.

He touched it with the tip of his tongue, and she drew a line along his lower lip.

Sawyer’s heart rate kicked up, his blood pulsing heat into every inch of his body. With his palm, he stroked along her shoulder, up the curve of her neck, cradling her head, anchoring her while he came to his feet and dipped his head toward her.

His lips met hers, hot, soft and ready. Their tongues tangled, before he fully captured her mouth.

One arm anchored her, while the other slipped up into her hair. She wound her arms around his neck, tipping her head, her breasts pressing hard against his chest. His hand spanned her waist, finding the curve of her hipbone, moving upward. Unable to resist, he cupped her breast.

A moan emerged from deep in her chest, and his passion jackknifed. He slid his hand downward, following the curve of her bottom, to the hem of her dress, touching the soft skin of her thigh. Her arms tightened around his neck, and she deepened the kiss, molding herself to him.

He marshaled his strength, broke their kiss, looking around to make sure they were still all alone. Thunder echoed through the cavernous building. Other voices sounded far, far away.

“You’re beautiful,” he growled low. “So incredibly, amazingly exquisite.”

His hand slipped beneath her hemline, sliding up to the silk of her tiny panties.

She groaned.

He kissed her deeper.

Thunder rumbled, lightning brightening the room.

She wrenched back. “We can’t.”

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized, appalled that he’d taken the kiss so far, and in a public place.

“I think I must be drunk.”

“We got carried away,” he allowed. He couldn’t quite bring himself to let her go, holding her loosely, promising himself he wouldn’t make another move.

After all the lectures he’d given himself, and the rational reasons to keep his distance from her, he’d made out with her in a dark corner? What was he, eighteen?

“Can we forget this ever happened?” she asked in a small voice.

“We can try.” He knew he wouldn’t be forgetting about it anytime soon.

“Sawyer.”

“Fine.” He scooped her up into his arms.

“Hey!”

“It’s forgotten.”

“What are you
doing?
”

“There’s broken glass all over the floor. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t get hurt,” she huffed.

“Now that’s just ridiculous. How do I get you to the Mayor’s house?”

* * *

Still carried securely in Sawyer’s arms, Niki stared out from under the arena awning at the whipping wind and the crashing rain. One of his arms cradled her shoulders, the other supported her thighs, positioned to ensure her dress kept her appropriately covered.

“Wow,”
the word whooshed out of his mouth. “Now that’s a storm.”

Few people remained on the sidewalk, and the parking lot was quickly emptying, SUVs and pickup trucks splashing through large puddles, while their headlights broke through the thick darkness of the blacked-out night.

“Were you supposed to meet the Terrells somewhere?” Sawyer asked.

“Katrina and I took a cab to get here, but we didn’t have any specific plans for the ride home.”

Sawyer set her gently down on her feet on the damp concrete. The rain was blowing all around them, whipping them with the occasional spray of cold mist.

He shrugged out of his jacket, draping it around her shoulders, at the same time extracting his cell phone.

“Thanks.” She pushed her arms into the big sleeves. The satin lining was still warm from his body.

Sawyer tried a number and listened for a few moments. He drew the phone from his ear and tried something else.

“Lines are jammed up,” he said to Niki.

She wasn’t surprised to hear that. The blackout probably affected the service, and everybody in town must be calling each other right now. “Can I try Katrina?”

He handed her the phone.

Niki pressed the buttons for Katrina’s number. “It’s ringing,” she said to Sawyer.

“Hello?” came Katrina’s voice, muffled by the noise of the storm. The lightning flashes crackled on the signal.

“It’s Niki.”

“Oh, thank goodness. Where are you? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I’m at the entrance to the arena. With Sawyer.”

There was a pause. “You’re not with Travis?”

“No. I danced with Travis. But then we got separated.” Travis had been such a good sport about the matchmaking that Niki didn’t want to confess they were only going to be friends just yet and spoil his fun.

Sawyer’s expression soured ever so slightly.

“Did you make it to Seth’s?” she asked Katrina.

“We just got here. Trees are coming down all over the place. I can send the driver back for you.”

“Should she send the driver back for us?” Niki asked Sawyer.

“Tell her I’ll drop you off. I’ve got my pickup.”

“Sawyer’s got a pickup,” she said to Katrina. “He can drop me off. Are you worried about Travis?”

“Travis can take care of himself. I’m worried about you.”

“I’m warm and dry,” said Niki, pulling Sawyer’s jacket more fully around her.

“You won’t stay that way for long,” Katrina warned.

“I’ll live.”

“There’ll be cookies and cocoa when you get here.”

“Sounds yummy. Thanks.”

“See you soon.”

Niki rang off and handed the phone back to Sawyer. “Far to your truck?” she asked.

“It’s on the creek side of the parking lot. Quite a ways over. I’ll go and get it.”

She took in the lines of traffic snaking their way in all directions in the parking lot. “It’ll take you a long time to backtrack.” She looked up at him. “I think I’d rather be sitting in a warm truck than standing here waiting in the wind.”

He hesitated, but then agreed with a nod. A second later, she was hoisted back up into his arms.

“I can walk,” she protested.

But he was moving forward. “Didn’t we already have this argument?”

“There’s no broken glass out here.”

“We don’t know that for sure. And the puddles are deep. And the parking lot is muddy. And I don’t want you to slow me down.”

They came out from under the shelter, and fat raindrops pelted them. Niki reflexively turned her face into Sawyer’s chest. He increased his pace.

“I must be heavy. I’m sorry.” She felt obligated to apologize.

He chuckled. “I’ve carried bigger loads in worse conditions.”

“I’m a
load?
” Wasn’t that flattering.

“An easy load. If it makes you feel any better, you’re a lot prettier than a mooring line, and nothing’s pitching beneath my feet.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ever been on board a frigate in thirty-foot seas?”

“I’ve been on a cruise ship.”

“In a first-class cabin?”

“Usually, a high-end suite,” she admitted. “But we had some rough water.”

He took long strides around the numerous puddles that had formed on the gravel parking lot. “I’m sure it’s pretty much the same thing.”

“You’re mocking me.”

“I’m trying to reassure you. You’re not that heavy, and you’re a lot more fun to carry than my usual cargo.”

“Oh, well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Here we are.” He came to a halt, popping open the passenger door on a shiny, blue pickup. He deposited her on the bench seat.

She put a hand on his arm. “Seriously, Sawyer, thank you.”

He smiled, rainwater dampening his face and dripping from his hat brim. “Seriously, Nellie, you’re welcome.”

He closed the door, sloshing his way around to the driver’s seat, where he hopped in and slammed the door against the rain outside. He tossed his hat into the backseat, then he extracted the keys from his jeans pocket and shoved one into the ignition.

He turned it.

Nothing happened.

He turned it again, but there was dead silence.

“Battery?” Niki speculated.

“Seems unlikely,” he frowned.

“Did you leave your headlights on?”

“It was still light out when I got here.”

Just then, a lightning flash cracked across the sky, illuminating the hood in front of them, revealing a black streak from the windshield to the hood ornament. The paint was bubbled and peeled to the metal.

“It was struck by lightning?” Niki could barely believe it.

“Must have fried the electrical,” said Sawyer, sitting back in his seat.

“That can’t be good.”

“It’s not good.”

She glanced out the windows. “Are we safe here?”

He craned his neck, looking up at the dark sky. “The storm’s moving on. And, really, what are the mathematical odds?”

“Of lightning striking twice in the same place? I’ve heard they’re higher than you might think.”

“Are you afraid?”

“Not really,” Niki answered honestly.

He was right. The storm did seem to be moving on. And she had no desire to brave the rain again to get back inside the arena.

Sawyer extracted his cell phone, trying a few numbers, but failing to connect.

Then he handed it to Niki. “You seem to have better luck than me.”

She dialed Katrina, but didn’t get through. She wasn’t even getting a dial tone anymore.

She handed back the phone. “What now?”

He took it. “We can walk back or wait here. Up to you.”

She squinted out at the storm. “I don’t have any desire to go back out there.”

“Then we wait. The chaos will calm down eventually. The phone lines will free up, and we can call a cab, or get through to Dylan or Katrina.” He reached behind them to the jump seat in the back, rattling something out of a plastic bag.

“Horse blanket,” he told her, bringing it forward. “But it’s brand-new and pure wool.”