Threads Of Desire (Creative Hearts Book 3) (14 page)

She brought her head up, attempting to meet his eyes again. “Yeah, we do. Check in the kitchen under the sink.”

Nick got up carefully and felt his way to the kitchen. He was grateful to find a flashlight and some candles. At least she was resourceful. He knew his bother wasn’t the type to be so prepared. He lit a candle in the main room, hit the flashlight, and made his way back to the bathroom.

“Really, you don’t have to,” Gabby said, still from her little spot on the floor. Looking at her by the light of the flashlight he paused, his heart constricting a bit. She looked like she had had it. Like this day had done her in, and slipping and landing on the floor was just the cherry on the top of an already shitty cake. The exhausted look in her eyes made him feel like he was finding a survivor after a natural disaster. Albeit a gorgeous, naked, and sexy survivor, but a survivor all the same. Her wet curls clung to her face and neck then flowed down her rounded shoulders. The towel was now draped around her tightly, pushing her breasts closer together, sending the ample globes up and out. And her knees were locked tight, her ankles spread apart haphazardly sort of like a rag doll. But still, her luscious thighs could not be contained by the cream towel, and her curves there spilled out. It took all Nick’s strength for him not to drop the flashlight and fall to his knees to worship at the altar of her hips.

Gabby looked down, her lashes sweeping her cheeks, and then looked back up at him, the full on defiance back in her eyes. “I can make it on my own, you know. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Nick shook his head and let out a frustrated sigh. She really did have to control it all. Without a word, he sat the flashlight down on the back of the sink so that the light illuminated upward to the ceiling. He then leaned down and reached around Gabby, blocking out any sputtering protests that she was uttering in his ears. He slipped one arm under hers around her naked back, lifting her to her feet. Her protests died in a sudden hush as she came to standing and had to now fight the battle of keeping her naked body covered with the small towel with one hand, while holding onto him with the other and keeping weight off her ankle.

“You know, you can let the towel go. Like I said it’s not like I haven’t seen it all before, darling.”

She shot him a glare and shoved her body away from his. “Don’t push it, Nick. I told you, I’m not inviting you to see it again. Ever.”

She stared at him hard and he gave her a grin to break the tension that was bubbling over into what he could sense was anger with her embarrassment at having to accept his assistance and added a waggle of his eyebrows. “We’ll see about that,” he said, with a playful laugh.

But she gave him a not-so-playful shove. “Oh screw you. I’ve got it. I can make my own way.”

But she didn’t have it. Pivoting on the ball of her bad foot, she winced and had to come forward into his arms again, the towel slipping and falling, as he circled an arm around her waist. He was almost knocked over by the power of it. Gabrielle naked and wet and against his body. His cock instantly stood at attention and his own towel threatened to fall as her breasts collided with his chest. The smell of her body heat mixed with her honeyed shampoo tickled his nose.

“Ouch,” she hissed out.

Nick forced himself to focus on the task at hand. But damn it was hard since all the blood was being pulled from his head to the lower half of his body and now he had the task of walking for two. Gabby pushed away from him to pull her towel up. “I just need to make it to my room.”

“What you need is to get to bed.”

She looked at him, cocking a brow and then pushed away again, attempting to take another step.

“Oh, Miss Russell, you are a feisty one.” With that, Nick stepped in front of her and slipped a hand under her knee and then around her back. Lifting her, he was satisfied to hear her suck in a surprised breath.

“I could have made it just fine.”

He looked down at her, trying his best to ignore the delicious curve of her ass as it was currently snuggled against his groin, and the feel of her flesh, soft and warm in his hands. He knew she could have made it to her bedroom. The apartment wasn’t all that big, the hallway not all that long, but he’d wanted her in his arms, and if he had to use this as an excuse to get her there, then damn it he would.

Her wet hair ticked the back of his arm and Nick wondered what it would feel like running down his chest, covering his thighs. He wanted to bury his face in that hair. Get lost in those curls. He frowned. Her mouth was moving. Forcing himself to focus, he opened his ears to hear the sound.

“You could throw your back out picking me up like this.”

He laughed at her. “You’ll have to do a lot more than what you’re doing to throw my back out, love.”

Focusing on his task, Nick took a few quick steps to her bedroom. She leaned down and opened the door as Nick carefully stepped over the threshold, pausing a moment before he stepped inside her private sanctuary for the first time.

He could easily make out the bed by the light of the moon; it was a sweet, but in a way sensual, old-fashioned thing. The brass frame was curved with tarnished spindles, and just holding her lush figure in his arms and looking at that bed got all sorts of erotic images flashing through his mind. He looked up, and the twinkling of the crystal chandelier above the bed seemed to tease him too.

Nick had to bite back a growl as the image of him lying on that bed and looking up at her—oh yes, her—gyrating above him, those beautiful curls flowing wildly around her shoulders, the chandelier creating a crystal halo around her head. Nick felt his cock jump. 
Shit
. He hoped she didn’t feel it too. The last thing he needed now was to come off as the dude who got the hard-on while helping the limping girl to her bed. But he couldn’t help it; his mind was full of newly discovered fantasies about slipping silk ties around those pretty wrists and tying her to that sexy brass bed.

Nick audibly growled this time and hurriedly carried Gabby the rest of the way to the bed, dropping her in place.

“Got a little heavy for ya?”

He looked down at her with irritation. “What?”

“I heard you grunt. So I got I little heavy, huh?” She shrugged. “I told you I was no lightweight.”

He frowned, shaking his head. “And I told you. It would take a lot more than a few steps for you to be heavy to me.”

“All right then, He-Man. No need to get testy.”

Nick felt his jaw tighten. Why the hell did she have to always do that? It was bad enough that he felt an instant coldness, an irrational emptiness when her body disengaged from his. Why did she have to try to pick a fight with him on top of it? He turned away from her. “I’ll just go and get you a candle, or something, and some ice for your ankle.”

“You don’t have to do that; I’ve got it. Really, I think I’ll be fine with just some rest.”

But Nick was already gone, Gabby’s voice distant, as he was halfway down the hall and on his way to the kitchen, putting some much-needed distance between himself, temptation, and that bed.

Chapter 11

Gabby was dumbstruck.

Nick had picked her up and carried her, 
her
, to her bed. No man had ever picked her up and just carried her as if she were some light as a feather little stick figure. And then to top it off, he was all flustered! As if she was the type to make one fluster. But there were no two ways around it: Nick Ross was flustered.

She crossed her arms over her chest, the towel shifting and giving her a reminder that she needed to do something about her current state of undress. But a smile quirked at the corners of her mouth as her brow rose with devilish intent.

Was it the towel that was the turn on for him? Maybe that was the thing that got him all hot and bothered. Hell, he hadn’t been that moved when he saw her completely nude, popping out of the bath. Did Nick have some damsel-in-distress fetish? That hard prick nudging her ass on the way down the hall told her that he did.

She had to find out for sure. After all these years of flapping over the unflappable Nick Ross, it was nice to see him a little off kilter. Not that she wanted to go poking the beast and all—although from the feel of things, poking at his beast could be all sorts of fun. Her grin went wider as she fanned herself. This was quickly turning into an opportunity that was just too sweet to pass up. It wasn’t every day that a girl like her got picked up and carried down the hall and to her bed. Gabby bit at her lip as an uneasiness threated to settle in her belly. She’d just told herself she wanted to try a new lane, but messing around and shifting too fast with a proven danger like Nick could end up with her crashing and burning.

Gabby jumped and straightened when she heard him coming back down the hall.

But Nick was looking more like his no-nonsense self. She was slightly put out to see that he’d changed and was back in his basketball shorts. He even had on his sneakers and a tee shirt, and seemed not flustered at all anymore. Damn. Maybe she was completely off with her theory. “Here’s a candle from the living room and baggie with some ice.”

“Oh, sorry. I’ve got a candle right here,” she said, nodding toward the lavender-scented candle by her bed. In her brain scatter she had forgotten about it. For a moment Nick’s eyes went from the candle by her bed back to the lit one he was holding in his hand. Then his eyes raked over her body leaving behind the physical sensation of touch. She clutched at her towel and looked up at him. “Why are you dressed?” Damn, was that her voice all squeaky and weak like that? She coughed. “I mean, it looks like you’re going out.”

He took two long strides, coming closer, leaned over her, and lit the candle. His face glowed mahogany in the flickering light. Those eyes swept over her again. “We’re low on ice. I just checked my iPad and it looks like most of Manhattan’s without power. I’m going to run out for a minute before things get too crazy. You just put your foot up. I’ll be right back.”

He quickly grabbed the pillow by her side and brought it to the foot of the bed. Gently, he went to lift her foot, and Gabby grabbed at the towel to cover her lower region.

“Don’t worry, I’m just going for your foot.”

“I know,” she answered, hoping her voice wasn’t too husky with need.

His lips curled in a half smile, half smirk that was so unreadable it poked at her nerves. “I’m sure you do.” Then his fingers caressed smoothly around her ankle, and he lifted and twisted it a bit. “You okay? Any pain?”

It was tender, but she was fine. It didn’t hurt all that much. “It’s not so bad. I think it’s just bruised. It doesn’t seem to be swelling.”

He poked around and touched at one spot, and she winced. “Hmm, we’ll see.” Nick placed the ice gently around her foot. “You stay put. I’ll be right back. You want me to pick up anything else? Something to eat?”

She was still a little hungry, but now she was too tired to eat. It seemed her appetite had gone the same way of his amorous mood. Maybe she’d imagined the whole thing. Gabby shook her head.

“Okay. Don’t get up,” he said, as if she’d go traipsing around in the dark with nothing but a glimmer of firelight to lead her way. She just nodded and, with that, he was gone.

• • •

Gabby didn’t know she had dozed off until she felt Nick again at her feet. She jumped, pulling her foot back and letting out a small “Ouch.”

“Shh, it’s okay, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He rubbed at her foot for a long moment, pinning her with his dark eyes. For a moment she wondered if she was dreaming. She looked to her right and saw the candle flickering low, then back at herself barely covered in that towel, then back at him on the edge of the bed staring at her, gently rubbing her hurt foot. She suddenly found it hard to breathe.

“How long have you been sitting there?” The words came out much lower than she intended. She swallowed and coughed, feeling the need to clear her throat.

“Not too long…but long enough,” he replied, his eyes not wavering. His hand was still on her bare foot. His voice was deep and husky and full of something she’d never heard before. Gabby’s hands instinctively clutched the towel closer to her breasts. Slowly she began to pull her foot away from his hand, but then his gaze left hers and Nick leaned down, kissing the spot that had given Gabby pain. The intimate shock of it sent a thrill right to her most sensitive erogenous zone.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Kissing the hurt,” he said, meeting her eyes.

The candle had burned low and the darkness surrounded them but still she saw him. She saw his eyes and saw the boy she knew in the dark all those years ago.

All at once her body raged war with her mind. She wanted him even more now, if it was possible, than she’d wanted him back then. It was those eyes. They were deep, dark, and deadly serious.

“What are you really doing, Nick?” Gabby fought for control, to keep her true feelings and emotion from her voice. She had to show him she wasn’t the same person she was back then.

He pulled back, sitting up straight and moving the now melted ice bag away and placing it on the floor. He held up another, going to place it on her ankle. “I don’t know, Gabby. I hardly ever know what I’m doing. All I know is seeing you here, now, I know this is what I want.”

Once again, Gabby was stunned. Why was he telling her this? Why now? She sat up a little straighter in the bed, pulling the magic towel with her.