The Golden Chance (12 page)

“Use your Lightfoot pull to get yourself a motel room in town.”

“I'd rather stay here.”

She spun around to confront him and discovered he was practically on top of her. Instinctively she backed up. She wondered how he'd gotten so close without her realizing it. “Why do you want to stay here?”

He reached out and gently caught hold of the lapels of her robe, drawing her close. “You know the answer to that.”

Phila tried to tamp down the energy that was beginning to sizzle through her. “Going to bed with you would be a very stupid thing for me to do.”

“You think I'm one of the enemy.”

“Aren't you?”

“No, Phila. I'm not.”

“You want my shares.”

“That's a side issue. The shares belong in the family, and sooner or later I'll get them back. But the fact has got nothing to do with you and me. It doesn't make me your enemy.”

“How can you say that?” She searched his face. “Damn it, Nick, how can you
say
that?”

“It's easy because it's the truth. I can say it loud or soft or anywhere in between.” His thumb moved along the angle of her jaw. “Take your pick.”

“I could never really trust you,” she pointed out, feeling desperate. A heady sense of awareness, a feeling of being gloriously, recklessly alive was kicking in for the first time in months.

“Yes you can. You can trust me, Phila.” His thumb moved across her lower lip, tugging it gently away from her teeth.

Phila shivered. “If push comes to shove, you'll side with your family.”

“Will I?”

“You've already admitted as much.”

“I've said I'll get back the shares. That's the only thing I've admitted. Don't read any more into it than that. What goes on between you and me has nothing to do with the families or those damn shares.”

She thought he was going to kiss her, but he did not. He just stood there, holding her lightly by the lapels, and waited.

She fought herself for a long moment, holding herself stiff and proud, trying to step back from the brink.

“Will you kiss me?” Nick asked softly. “I've been going out of my head wondering what it would be like.”

So had she. Phila finally admitted it to herself, moaned softly and surrendered to the unfamiliar driving force of passion.

She gripped his shoulders fiercely as the excitement raced through her. No man had ever sent her senses reeling this way, and she was frankly fascinated with her own responses.

Crissie had laughed at her in the past, telling Phila that her disappointment in sex was directly attributable to the fact that she'd never met the right mate. Crissie had encouraged greater experimentation, but Phila had shied away from that approach. It wasn't just her inbuilt sense of discretion that kept her from it. There was an old fear to contend with, a fear that made sex seem less that attractive. Because of what had happened to her, the thought of a man climbing on top of her was enough to awaken a primitive panic.

But tonight her sense of caution was a dim and distant voice. She ignored it in favor of the heat that was waiting for her in Nick's arms. Impulsively she brushed her mouth quickly, awkwardly against his, tasting brandy and desire.

“Yeah, that's it. That's what I want—” Nick's voice was growing thick. His hands framed her face. “Come on. Eat me up. A hundred miles an hour.”

A firestorm was building inside Phila. She was shaking with need, longing to know more about the tantalizing feelings flowing through her. She grabbed Nick's head in both hands and held him still so that she could plunge her tongue between his teeth.

Her fingers twisted in his hair, and her nose bumped against his glasses. When her teeth grated against his, Nick chuckled softly.

“It's okay, honey. I'm not going anywhere tonight. I'm all yours.” Nick caught her around the waist and lifted her high against him. “Why don't you try wrapping your legs around me,” he suggested softly.

“Nick, wait. I…we shouldn't…”

“It's okay,” he soothed gently. “Nothing to worry about. I'm healthy as a horse. Want to see my blood donor card?”

She shook her head frantically. “I'm healthy, too. That's not what I meant.” But she could no longer think clearly.

“Put your legs around me,” he urged again, his eyes brilliant with desire. “Do it, Phila.”

She did so instantly, hugging his hips with her thighs as if he were a stallion she intended to ride. Her arms locked around his neck, and her mouth fastened onto his again. Teeth clinked once more. His glasses were in the way, she thought.

Nick carried her down the short hall to the darkened bedroom and fell with her onto the bed. He rolled onto his back, one leg drawn up. His eyes gleamed in the shadows.

“Nick?”

“I'm here.”

Dazed and hungry, filled with emotions that left her shaking, Phila needed no further encouragement. She knelt beside him, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. She was in such a hurry now that when one button got stuck she yanked at it. There was a soft plink as it flew across the room and bounced off the window. She looked up. There was just enough light to see the grin on Nick's face.

“So help me, if you're laughing at me, you son of a…”

He stopped the words with two fingers across her lips. “I'm not laughing. I want this more than you do.”

Phila decided to take him at his word because in that moment she wanted desperately to believe him. She went back to work on his clothing, stripping the shirt from him with impatient, wrenching movements. Then she groped for the buckle of his belt.

Nick sucked in his breath as she unzipped his jeans. His manhood sprang free. He groaned heavily when she captured him in her hands.

For a short while Phila contented herself with exploring him intimately. She was enthralled with the fullness of him, captivated by the hard tension in his thighs. She laced her fingertips in the crisp curling hair of his groin and stroked the unbelievably hard length of his shaft.

“You're magnificent,” she whispered, awed.

“Oh, Jesus,” Nick's finger twisted in her hair.

The fire in her was very close to the surface now. She wanted to know what it would be like to quench it. Eagerly she pulled the last of Nick's clothing from his body. When he was lying naked on the bed, Phila knelt between his legs, drinking in the sight of him. He was a beautiful beast in the shadows.

“What about you?” he urged softly, toying with the hem of her robe.

“Oh, yes. Right.” Phila stripped off her robe and night-gown, almost unaware of what she was doing. She was too excited to think clearly. Nick was a treasure she had discovered and unearthed all by herself. He was hers to do with as she pleased, and she was so excited by the prospect that she could not decide what to do first. Her hands slid over him in soft wonder.

“You look like a kid in a candy factory,” Nick observed, his smile wicked and warm.

She heard the laughter in his voice but she no longer cared if he was amused. She could concentrate only on her own chaotic emotions. There was a liquid warmth between her thighs, an aching need that she knew Nick could satisfy.

“What are you waiting for?” Nick asked with a soft chuckle.

What was she waiting for?
He was just lying there. He was not trying to climb all over her. He was not going to crush her beneath his heavy body. Phila hesitated briefly as the old memories and the primal fear they always brought with them surfaced. But an instant later the secret dread dissolved. He was offering himself for her pleasure, not forcing himself on her.

She moved upward, straddling him. With eager fingers, she guided him toward the center of her pulsating desire. Quickly she lowered herself, trying to impale herself on him.

“You're tight. Small and tight.” His fingers slid up along her thighs to where she was fumbling with his manhood. He parted her softness gently. “You're hot but not quite ready for me. Give it awhile. There's no rush.”

But she
was
in a rush. Phila had never felt like this, and she was very much afraid that if she did not take advantage of the sensations immediately she would never experience them again. It was imperative to hurry. Frantically she pushed herself downward.

“Not so fast. Take it easy,” Nick murmured.

She paid no attention, forcing him into her snug sheath. It felt good, but it was not very comfortable. In fact it was almost painful. Phila gasped as her softness suddenly felt stretched beyond its limits. She eased herself carefully back up the length of him.

“I told you to slow down.” Nick's voice sounded half-strangled.

But Phila wasn't listening. She began to glide up and down more quickly as her body adjusted rapidly to his. He was big, but she wanted him and she was determined to have all of him.

He still felt huge inside her, but the sensation was quickly becoming pleasurable again. She splayed her fingers across his chest, clinging to him, lost in the wonder of it all. She increased the tempo of her rising and falling movements, her knees pressing tightly against his hips.

“
Nick
.”

“Yes. Oh, God, yes,” Nick muttered as she moved faster and faster on him. “I shouldn't let you run wild like this. Not yet. You're going too fast. A hundred miles an hour. But it feels so good.
So good
.”

And then he went taut beneath Phila, shouting hoarsely, shuddering heavily as he exploded deep within her.

“Nick is sleeping with her.” Victoria stabbed her grapefruit with her spoon.

Darren glanced up from the head of the table, frowning. “How do you know that? Nick was supposed to spend the night over at the Lightfoot cottage. Hilary told me she'd had her housekeeper prepare his old room.”

“Well, I guess Hilary lied,” Victoria said, taking some small pleasure from making the comment sound terribly casual.

“Vicky, really, dear. That's no way to talk.” Eleanor, seated at the other end of the gleaming fruitwood dining table, glanced first at her daughter-in-law and then at her son. “Hilary certainly did not lie. Why on earth would she do a thing like that? I know Nick was expected to sleep at the Lightfoot cottage last night.”

“Well, he didn't.” It wasn't often she got the satisfaction of surprising both her husband and Eleanor. Castletons were notoriously difficult to startle. It took something on the order of an unknown illegitimate daughter's sudden appearance out of the blue to do that. “Jordan and I stopped by the Gilmarten place a while ago when we came back from our walk along the beach. I wanted to talk to her, so I thought I'd see if she was up. She wasn't. Nick was. He opened the door when I knocked.”

“I see,” Eleanor said blandly. “Darren, dear, would you please pass the cream? Thank you. Maybe Nick went for a walk this morning, too, and just decided to say good morning to Miss Fox.”

“He was barefoot and he wasn't wearing a shirt. All he had on were the jeans he was wearing yesterday at the party. I asked if Phila was awake, and he said she wasn't but that when she woke up he would tell her I'd stopped by to say hello. Take my word for it, he spent the night there.”

“It's hardly any of our business,” Eleanor proclaimed primly.

“You don't think so?” Victoria looked at her.

“No, I do not. Really, dear, this is hardly a subject for the breakfast table.”

“Don't fret, Eleanor. I think we're all adult enough to handle it,” Victoria said. Jordan was safely out of earshot, having eaten breakfast earlier in the kitchen.

Darren ate a wedge of grapefruit. “I don't know why you're acting like it's a big deal, Vicky. It was pretty obvious yesterday Nick had something going with her.”

“Maybe he's trying to seduce the shares out of her,” Victoria suggested, thinking about it. “Or, maybe she's just a little tramp like Crissie was.”

“Quite possible,” Eleanor agreed with a sigh of resignation. “Probable, in fact. They both come from the same sort of background, I understand.”

“You think she's a tramp?” Darren shook his head. “I doubt it. Not the type.”

Victoria was irritated. “For heaven's sake, Darren. You're a man. That doesn't make you a good judge of women.”

“No?” Darren regarded his wife with a level look.

Victoria flushed angrily and went back to work on her grapefruit. “Whatever the reason, Nick's sleeping with her and I'll bet Hilary is furious.”

“Why should Hilary be upset?” Eleanor inquired politely.

“Because she probably figured she could manage Nick if he ever returned to the fold. It would be just like her to assume she could manipulate him the way she does everyone else around here. She's never really understood Nick. She doesn't know him.”

“She was married to him for eighteen months,” Eleanor pointed out. “I'd say that gives her some insight into the man. We all know what she went through because of him.”

“Well, she was wrong about one thing. She thinks Nick left three years ago because he was weak. That was a stupid assumption. He left because he was sick of the whole mess. Who can blame him?”

“Vicky, I think you've said enough,” Darren began warningly.

“But,” Victoria continued, “the first night Nick's home, he goes off with another woman. Poor Hilary didn't even get a chance to sink her claws back into him.”

“I said that's enough, Vicky.” Darren did not raise his voice, but his tone was harsh.

Victoria slanted him a scornful glance. “I'm merely mentioning a few facts. Hilary is accustomed to having men make fools of themselves over her.”

“Now, dear,” Eleanor murmured, dabbing at her lips with a white linen napkin. “I really do think you've said enough.”

“Damn it, Vicky, close your mouth. You don't know what you're talking about.” Darren poured himself another cup of coffee from the silver pot.

Victoria smiled grimly. “You're wrong, Darren. I do know what I'm talking about. I'm not blind. Hilary's an expert. She knows how to make men jump through hoops.”

“How can you say that after what she went through?” Darren demanded.

“It's easy to say because it's the truth.”

“Would anyone like some more fruit?” Eleanor asked, picking up a heavily scrolled silver-plate tray that contained a selection of fresh strawberries and grapefruit.

Darren ignored his mother. “Let's close the subject.”

“I don't feel like closing it,” Victoria retorted. “Nick got free of her three years ago and from the look of him this morning, my guess is that he's in no danger of falling into Hilary's clutches a second time. But we all know the situation with Reed. During the past three years he's gradually turned over the entire Lightfoot half of the company to Hilary. He's given up. Now she's working on you, Darren.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Darren snapped.

“She wants to run the Castleton side of things as well. And she's going to do that by offering you what you want most.”

Darren pushed aside his grapefruit dish and folded his arms on the table. “What can she offer me that would make me give up running our half of the business?”

“Freedom. The freedom to devote all your time to your political career. And C&L money to wage your campaigns.” Victoria glanced from one startled face to to the other. “Don't you see? She's already starting to do it. This past year she's graciously taken over more and more of the daily decision making so that Darren can be free to set up the foundations of his gubernatorial campaign. Little by little, Hilary's assuming full responsibility, and you two don't even see what's happening.”

“Hilary is the current CEO. She's not
taking over
, she already has the day-to-day responsibility of running C&L,” Eleanor said soothingly. “I, for one, feel the firm is doing very well under her management. We can rely upon her.”

“You don't understand, Eleanor. She's acting as if she really owns the business, not as if she's just been elected by the rest of us to run it.”

“Hilary is family. She has the firm's best interests at heart, and that's all that really matters.” Eleanor paused. “Actually, now that you mention it, I've been giving the whole matter some serious consideration. It could be an excellent arrangement, you know.”

“What would be an excellent arrangement?” Victoria demanded. “Letting her handle C&L while Darren runs for office? Believe me, there would be a price to pay. One of these days we're all going to wake up and find out we're just puppets, totally dependent on her.”

“Damn it, Vicky, you're acting like a spoiled brat,” Darren said. “You know what's wrong with you? You're jealous. Hilary's worked hard to get involved with the business, and you're envious of her ability. That's what this is all about. She pulled herself together after Nick walked out and she lost the baby. She's made a career for herself, and you resent her for it.”

“Maybe you're right.” Victoria felt the angry, resentful tears welling up in her eyes. “After all, the only thing I've done during the past few years is bear your son and play the part of an up-and-coming politician's wife. Putting on dinners for a hundred potential backers and serving tea to fifty campaign workers is hardly a worthwhile career, is it?”

“Take it easy, Vicky. I didn't mean that the way it sounded,” Darren said lightly.

“How did you mean it?”

Eleanor picked up the silver bell on the table and tinkled it loudly. When the door to the kitchen opened, she turned to smile at the housekeeper. “Oh, there you are, Mrs. Atkins. I believe we need more coffee.”

“I'll bring it right out, Mrs. Castleton.”

“Thank you.” Eleanor looked from her son to her daughter-in-law as the housekeeper disappeared. For a moment the sweet, vague look disappeared from her eyes. “I really do feel it would be best for all of us if Hilary stays in charge of C&L. The most important consideration now is that Darren have the freedom and the financial backing to run for governor. We can only be assured of his having both if Hilary remains at the helm.”

The queen had spoken. Victoria knew she had been given her orders. As always, she would follow them. She folded her napkin and placed it beside her coffee cup. Then she got to her feet and rose from the table. She was aware of Darren watching her in angry silence as she left the room.

* * *

Phila shifted drowsily under the covers. Something was missing, something she had grown accustomed to having next to her during the night. Something warm and comforting and male.

She came awake slowly. Memories trickled back; memories of strong, gentle hands guiding her; memories of a masculine voice laced with husky amusement, wicked and urgent and exciting as it commanded and cajoled and pleaded; memories of coming very close to a thrilling promise of release, a promise that had slipped out of her fingers at the last moment but one that she was sure she could capture the next time around. She just needed another shot at it, that's all.

At least she now knew for certain that there was, indeed, something to go after the next time. Crissie had been right, after all.

Phila opened her eyes and saw Nick sitting, legs spread wide, on a reversed ladder-back chair. He had his arms folded across the back of the chair and he was leaning forward, watching her intently. He had on his jeans and a shirt, although he hadn't bothered to fasten the buttons of the shirt. She could see the heavy mat of his chest hair through the opening.

The expression on his face was the one she remembered from the occasion of their first meeting: hard, remote, unreadable. A faint trickle of dread lanced through her. Then she saw the gun.

It lay on top of the nightstand, gleaming dully in the early light. The ammunition clip lay beside it. Too late she recalled she had carelessly left the drawer open last night in her rush to answer the door. Nick must have seen the gun the minute he opened his eyes.

Phila sat up slowly, her eyes going from Nick's cold, set face to the gun and back again. As the blankets fell away she remembered she was nude. Automatically, she pulled the sheet up to her chin.

“Nick? What's wrong?”

“You tell me.”

“I don't understand.”

“The hell you don't.”

“You're wondering about the gun?” she hazarded.

“Yeah. Good guess. I'm wondering about the gun. You said you had some questions about what happened to Crissie Masters. You said you thought the Castletons and Ligthfoots might bear some ‘moral responsibility’ in the matter. But you forgot to mention you intended to play lady vigilante if you didn't like the answers you got.”

She stilled, shocked by his interpretation of events. “Nick, you've got it all wrong.”

“You really had me fooled, lady. I've got to hand it to you. What do you think you are? A hit woman? You put on a hell of an act. I went for it every step of the way, didn't I? Brought you right through the gate myself. Introduced you to all the Castletons and Lightfoots. Gave you free run of the place. And just to top it all off, I even let you seduce me.”

“You can't possibly think I've come here to kill someone.”

“What else am I supposed to think?” He nodded toward the gun. “That's an expensive 9-mm automatic pistol, not a squirt gun.” He studied her with chilling detachment. “What the hell do you think you're doing? And what made you think I'd let you get away with it?”

Phila edged backward, taking the sheet with her. The look in his eyes frightened her as nothing else had since the Spalding trial. “You don't know what you're talking about. Please. Give me a chance to explain.”

He reached out and snagged the sheet, tearing it from her grasp. “That's exactly what I'm going to do. You're going to explain the gun, your plans and what you think gives you the right to hunt my people.”

“
Your people
,” she repeated scathingly as she battled another jolt of fear. She felt horribly vulnerable. She was crouched naked in front of him, the wall at her back. She felt dizzy. Once before she had been in a position like this, and the old memories were starting to get tangled up with the present reality. “I suppose we're talking about your precious Lightfoots and Castletons?”

“Yeah, we're talking about Lightfoots and Castletons.”

“I told you last night that when the crunch came, you'd side with them.”

“Against a nut with an automatic? You'd better believe it.”

She could not tolerate this position any longer. Fear was gnawing at her stomach now. It was as though a mask had been thrown aside and she was finally seeing the real Nicodemus Lightfoot. This was not the man she had felt so gloriously free with last night, the man whose body she had learned to enjoy with such wholehearted abandon. This was a very dangerous stranger.