by Soraya Lane
“You done?” Nate asked, pissed off but not about to deny the truth.
“No, I’m nowhere near done. Because somehow you ended up in bed with my sister. Somehow you ended up having something more with her than I’m guessing you’ve ever had with any other woman before, and now you’re acting all weird and she’s all upset.”
“Which leads you to your theory about me being in love with her?” Nate asked, trying not to laugh. He should have been pissed with Sam for being so damn nosey, but at least he wasn’t trying to actually break Nate’s nose this time.
“Am I right?” Sam asked, knocking back a shot of whiskey.
“Yeah,” Nate said. “You are. I let the little minx get under my skin, and now I’m doing everything I can to win her back.”
“You hurt her . . . ,” Sam warned, pointing at Nate.
“You kill me; I get it.” He rose, moved toward the window, and stared out. “But what you don’t get is that your little sister hurt me, Sam. Not the other way around.”
“And if she means it? If she doesn’t want you?” he asked. “You know that saying about letting something go if you love it?”
“She tells me to leave her the hell alone, I will. But I ain’t giving her up without a fight.” Nate hadn’t thought about the fact that she could tell him to leave her alone entirely, focused only on what he was doing and what he wanted her to say. But he would let her go; if he had to he wasn’t going to make a fool of himself by begging. No damn way.
“You give me your word that you’ll respect her wishes, and I’ll repress the urge to smash your face in every time I think about the two of you together.”
“Deal,” Nate agreed. “And I promise I won’t come crying to you if she becomes the first woman to break my heart not once but twice.”
They both laughed. Nate poured them each an extra shot and held his glass up.
“Who’d have ever thought my little sister would be the one to tame you, without even trying.”
Nate chuckled. “Not me, that’s for damn sure.”
Chapter 18
It wasn’t often that Faith was genuinely nervous. Although if she was honest with herself, she hadn’t been much better at Clay’s funeral. Her palms were sweaty, her hair was clinging to the back of her neck, and she was pacing. She never paced! Faith took a deep breath, shut her eyes for a moment to calm herself down, and decided to pour herself a glass of water.
The problem was that she had no idea where they were going or what they were doing. After Nate had phoned in and confirmed on a six-figure Mark Bradford painting the day before, her boss had virtually begged her to spend the day with him and see what else he might like to add to his collection. She personally doubted he even liked abstract, multilayer collage-style art like the Bradford, but she couldn’t deny that it would be a good investment. They were selling it on behalf of a collector who was going through a divorce settlement, which meant Nate had gotten it for a good price.
A knock sounded out downstairs and she jumped, spilling the glass of water she was holding. Faith cursed and tipped the rest out, crossing the room to collect her small case. She had a couple changes of clothes, jeans and a cute top as well as a dress, both outfits she could wear with the heels she had on if she needed to. She hated surprises and she especially hated the idea of being unprepared for an entire day of being with Nate. And the fact that he’d left a message for her saying they’d be out of the town for the day and that she might like to pack a few things had her even more antsy.
The knock sounded out again and she walked slowly toward the door, opening it even though she was certain the smarter thing to do would have been to keep it shut and go hide in her room.
“Hi,” Nate said, stepping back instead of filling the entire doorway.
“Morning,” she replied, pleased she’d dressed up now that Nate was here. He was wearing a tailored black suit with a soft pink shirt open necked beneath it, and he looked so damn good it actually annoyed her.
“You look”--he held out one hand and scanned her with his eyes--“stunning. Very professional.”
“If you’d told me where you were taking me, I’d have known how to dress.”
“Believe me, your cute little skirt and leather jacket ensemble is perfect.”
The corners of Faith’s mouth twitched, desperate to break out into a smile, but she tried her hardest to refrain. The last thing she needed was to start thinking about Nate like that again, or make him think that anything more was going to happen between them.
He reached past her and took the case, lifting it rather than wheeling it, and walking back to his SUV.
“I wasn’t sure how much luggage you’d have, so I thought I’d bring something big for transportation.”
She fake-laughed. “Ha-ha.”
Nate’s grin was infectious and she found it impossible not to smile as she hopped into the passenger seat.
“Your taking me somewhere in the plane, aren’t you?”
He started the engine, then turned to her. “Yes.”
Faith stared him straight in the eye. “And where are you taking me?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you that once we’re on the plane.”
She leaned back in the seat as he started to drive. “If you’re trying to impress me with the fact that you can just whisk me off somewhere . . .” Faith didn’t even know what to say. She’d told him that this sort of thing only made it more clear to her that they were from different backgrounds.
“I’m not trying to impress you with the plane,” he said, eyes on the road. “I would have flown you coach, but none of the flight times worked, so this is just a means to an end.”
“Bullshit,” she said, laughing. “I don’t think anyone could convince Nate fricking King to fly coach. No way.”
He was silent for so long she almost reached over to poke him to make sure he was okay.
“You could,” he finally said, his voice soft and low. “I reckon you’re probably the only person in the world who could make me do anything, aside from maybe Harrison or little Rose.”
Faith didn’t have an answer to that. They stayed quiet on the short drive there, and when Nate jumped out and ran around to her side she let him. The airport was fairly quiet, and she followed beside him as he led the way into the terminal, his Range Rover being valet parked since it seemed they were only going to be gone until late evening.
“When’s your painting being delivered?” she asked, just trying to make conversation and stop the stretch of silence that had formed between them.
“Ah, next week, I think. It’s going to my office.”
She nodded. “Great choice. I’ll definitely keep my eye out for anything else by the same artist that will complement it.”
Within minutes they’d walked through a door and were out on the tarmac and facing the King jet; to say it was impressive would have been lying. Still, Faith refused to be all fangirl over Nate and his big bad plane.
A way too beautiful blonde waved, dressed in a tight-fitting suit, hair twisted up and off her face. As they got closer Faith could see that her makeup was flawless and she was easily the most attractive flight attendant she’d ever seen. Although she hadn’t exactly traveled a lot, there was no denying how gorgeous the woman was.
“Please don’t tell me you’ve slept with her,” Faith muttered as he reached for her hand to lead her up the stairs.
“No I haven’t.”
“But you’ve thought about it?” she asked, wishing she hadn’t. “I mean, I know you like blondes.”
Nate chuckled, squeezing her hand. “Honey, I like all women, but I certainly don’t have a thing for blondes over . . .”--he paused and touched a lock of her hair-- “incredibly stunning brunettes.”
She forced her mouth to shut.
“But I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about sleeping with her. I met her before you turned up that day.”
“Hey, at least you’re honest.” But if she was truthful, al
l it made her want to do was punch the blonde’s perfect little white teeth from her painted pink-lipped mouth.
“You want honest?” He chuckled. “Every beautiful woman I meet, I wonder how good she’d look naked. But you’ve ruined me, darlin’. Nothing compares.”
She burst out laughing. “Come off it, Nate.” There was flattery, and then there was just . . . she had no idea what that even was.
“Good morning, Mr. King,” the blonde said, gesturing for them to enter. “We’ll be wheels up as soon as you’re settled.”
“Thank you,” Nate replied, nodding and keeping hold of Faith’s hand, barely acknowledging the attendant. “I’d like to make sure we have chilled water, the bottle of New Zealand sauvignon blanc I sent over earlier, and a selection of food. Once you have all that sorted I’d prefer not to be interrupted except in case of an emergency.”
She looked taken aback but nodded politely. Faith forced herself to smile as she passed—it wasn’t like she was the only woman on the planet attracted to Nate King.
“New Zealand wine?”
“Only the best, darlin’.”
“You need to stop calling me that.”
He stopped, let go of her hand, and crossed his arms. “You used to like it, if I remember correctly.”
Faith blushed. When he’d used that sexy drawl in bed and called her all kinds of pet names she’d loved it. Now it just reminded her of what she couldn’t have.
“So where are we going?” Faith asked.
“New York,” he said simply, as if he’d just announced they were heading down to a local café for lunch.
“New York?” she spluttered.
Nate shrugged and sat back in his seat, gesturing for her to take the one opposite him. She sunk into the soft leather, putting her purse on the seat and wondering how the hell anyone could afford luxuries like a private jet. With the exception of maybe movie stars.
“Why are we going to New York?” she asked, more composed this time.
Nate’s stare was warm, his gaze fixed on hers, unwavering, as he looked into her eyes. Nothing about the way he held himself gave away his thoughts or his emotions. He had his legs spread wide, arms resting on his knees as he leaned forward.
“Because I’ve never met anyone as passionate about art as you and you deserve to see the best galleries in the country. Or at least one of the best.”
Faith swallowed. Hard. Like she’d been stranded in the desert for days she was so dry. “Why? Why are you doing this for me?”
Her question hung between them, Nate’s eyes still fixed on hers. She thought he was going to look away, that he was going to blink and avoid what she’d asked, but he proved that nothing scared him when he finally answered her.
“Because I love you.” Her eyes had been leveled on Nate’s lips, as she thought how soft and kissable they looked as he sat not saying anything, but she quickly raised her gaze when he said words she’d never, ever expected to come out of his mouth.
“Nate . . . ,” she cautioned, not sure what else to say.
“I love you, Faith, and this is me proving it to you.”
Nate sat back, unfazed by what he’d just told her, so damn comfortable in his own skin that it drove her wild.
“You can’t just say things like that.” Her voice sounded weak, like she wasn’t sure of what she was saying, and she was. Only hearing him say it . . . She cleared her throat. “Is that what this is about? You trying to tell me I need to move back into your place so we can keep having crazy-good sex.”
He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the sides as he pushed his too-long hair from his face. It was so at odds with his suit, the hair that should have been cut a little shorter but was instead left to be unruly.
“Sweetheart, I’ll take you in my bed anytime; that’s a given. But I want a whole lot more from you than your bedroom skills.”
Nate liked flirting with Faith. Hell, he liked doing almost anything with Faith, especially after not seeing her for so long.
“You know how to play backgammon?” he asked.
Her eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?”
He passed her a bottle of water. They were about to take off and he was happy to get in the air. It was going to take a few hours, and the sooner they got there the better.
“I was thinking we could play. Or I could teach you.”
“Teach me?” she asked, a wicked smile curving her mouth. “I think I’m just about done with you teaching me things, Nathaniel.”
“I love it when you call me that,” he teased.
It was strange how they could go so long without seeing each other and then slot straight back into talking shit and having fun. Which was why he liked her so damn much.
“Yes, I can play backgammon, Nate. You don’t think that Sam was able to play so well against you without having someone to practice with, do you?”
He sat back. “You’ve got to be kidding me? I wondered how the hell he got so damn good. Son of a bitch!”
Faith was smiling. “He taught me, but I haven’t played in years. I’m game if you are, though.”
“Let’s do it,” Nate said, reaching for the board he had stashed away. His brothers hated playing, so he was damn happy to have someone to spar with. “And while we’re playing, we can discuss all those reasons you claim we couldn’t work.”
“Ha,” she said, clicking her seat belt on as they started down the runway. “So this is actually some kind of therapy session where I get so distracted playing backgammon that I end up telling you my life’s secrets?”
He shrugged. “Could be. Or maybe I just really like playing backgammon and I actually give a shit about why you’re so scared to commit to anything but work.”
He set the board out, fingers moving fast to place the counters in their rightful places. His counters were magnetic, not like the expensive leather set he kept in the library at home; he took all games seriously, which meant he had no intention of risking the counters flying off the board in turbulence.
“So tell me again why you left me?” he asked.
She sighed, rolling a dice in one hand. “Nate, you know I think you’re a great guy, but this was never going to work. We’ve been through this. I’m not going to . . .”
“Make the same mistake your mom did. I know that,” he finished for her.
“So why are you covering old ground when we could just be . . .”--she paused--“I don’t know, enjoying each other as friends?”
Nate glared at her, trying to stay calm and failing. “Because you and I know that we’re never going to be just friends again, not even friends with benefits. It might have started out like that, but it sure as hell ain’t ending like it.”
Her eyes were damp when she looked up. “I don’t want to argue with you, Nate.” She threw her dice, took the move when hers was the higher of the two. “It doesn’t matter how I feel or how you think you feel right now. We can’t be together as anything more than . . .”
“Fuck buddies?” he suggested.
“I wouldn’t have put it so crudely, but yeah.”
“Well, screw that,” Nate said, staring at her and wishing he could just take her right there on the goddamn plane, kiss some sense into her, and just tell her how it was going to be, whether she liked it or not. “And by the end of the day, maybe you’ll realize that I’m not the same asshole who broke your mom’s heart. Okay?”
She swallowed; he watched the movement of her throat, the way she glanced from him to the board. “How about we just start with playing the game?”
He threw the dice. “Deal.”
Chapter 19
By the time they landed, Faith was exhausted. Just being with Nate was enough to drain every inch of energy from her. She’d tried so hard to forget about him, to put him behind her and move forward with her life, but it had been impossible. Then somehow she’d seen him once and ended up running straight back into the lion’s den.
“Do I get any clues yet?”
Nate chuck
led, stretching as he stood. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
“This doesn’t change anything,” she said, reaching for her purse instead of looking at Nate as she spoke.
“It will,” Nate replied, moving to stand too close to her. She could feel his presence behind her, hated that her body reacted so instantly to his every single time he was near.
She didn’t say anything, not wanting to encourage him. She should never have gotten on the plane. Being with him was a huge mistake.
“It can’t.”
His hands were on her shoulders, resting there, warming her before making her turn. She resisted, but there was only so long she could stay strong and not give in.
“Nate--” she started.
He put a finger to her lips, silenced her as he watched her so intently, his gaze so kind and different from the way he looked at so many others. To some he seemed intimidating, powerful, arrogant even, but with her he’d always been gentle, kind instead of ruthless, loving instead of careless. Which was why he’d blindsided her, when all she’d expected was some fun between the sheets.
“I know why you’re scared, and I know why you don’t think this can work,” he said, moving his hand to cup the back of her head, his other softly touching her face, tips of his fingers against her cheeks. “Just give me today, Faith; that’s all I ask. If you tell me to walk away after today, I will. For good.”
They were the words she wanted to hear, but they also hurt. Because deep down, part of her was desperate for him to fight for her, to prove that he wasn’t what she expected from him.
“So where in New York are you taking me?” she asked as his mouth moved closer to hers. His lips mesmerized her, reminded her of the times they’d shared together, of what she was missing out on.
“To a gallery,” he said, finally closing his lips over hers, so gently she almost couldn’t feel them. But she could. His kiss was light, warm, and she tried to stay still when all she wanted was to throw her arms around his neck and make him kiss her harder.
