“No more rude than my thoughtless participation in the destruction of the planet,” he drawled, definitely teasing this time.
Her eyes flew to his and at one look at him her chagrin instantly faded and she laughed, not soft or low, but with great feeling and it was so catching, he found himself grinning at her.
And in that moment, his resolution was completely forgotten.
“Yes, true,” she was no longer laughing but her eyes were still dancing, “you are definitely ruder than me. You should feel ashamed, Nate, very ashamed.”
He asked before he could stop himself, before he could start thinking or remembering all the reasons why he should not, “Are you staying tomorrow?”.
“I’m sorry?” She tilted her head quizzically, her gorgeous eyes still smiling.
“Tomorrow. Are you staying with Laura and Victor another day?”
“I…” she hesitated, watching him, “I don’t think so. I’ve taken too much advantage as it is. Your um… parents are very kind but fish and guests stink after three days.”
“What?” He no longer had to stop himself from thinking because all he could think was that had no idea what she was talking about.
“Something my grandmother used to say, fish and guests stink after three days. Her way of saying not to wear out your welcome when you’re a guest.” She alighted the last two steps, stood in front of him and tilted her head up to look at him. “What I’m saying is that it’s time for me to go home.”
“You’ve only been here two days,” he informed her helpfully, smiling into her upturned face. Something changed in hers as she caught his smile and for some reason this caused another blush to creep into her cheeks.
“The way I figure it is, I didn’t even know Laura and Victor when I arrived so that has to shave off at least a day, maybe two. So I’m passed my expiration date.” She gave him her quirky grin and he had to concentrate all his effort on not snatching her into his arms.
She was close, not unseemly close but close enough so that she filled his vision, so he could feel the warmth from her body, so that he could smell her subtle perfume.
He straightened from his lounge against the banister. This brought them only inches closer but enough so that the once decorous distance was now not.
“Stay another day,” he urged, his voice lower in timbre as well as coaxing.
Her body gave an almost imperceptible jerk and she had to tilt her head back further to look at him.
“Why?” she whispered, her eyes adorably bewildered.
He moved closer and her head tilted back more. This was how she would look before he kissed her, he knew, and the thought shot through him like a bullet.
She seemed frozen, rooted to the spot. He lifted the hand which was not carrying her litter-saving cigarette and captured a tendril of her hair that had escaped at her neck. He twisted it around his finger and felt its softness.
“So I can take you to dinner tomorrow night,” he replied quietly.
It was then Nate realised she wasn’t breathing.
There was something about her that made him understand he was in complete and total control of her. The way she was looking into his eyes, she was lost in him, she was, quite simply, his to do with as he pleased. She communicated this with only a look not uttering a single word.
And this knowledge shook him. That this perfect, pristine, untouchable creature could be lost in Nate McAllister, the boy from the wrong side of town, the son of a whore. He had the unspeakable but heady desire to shout his satisfaction and the equally strong desire to bury himself in her, bury his tongue in her mouth, bury himself deep inside her, claim her, possess her, do something violent and long-lasting that made her truly his.
“What about your fiancée?” she breathed.
“I don’t have a fiancée.”
“Your girlfriend then… what’s her name, Georgia?”
“Georgia and I are no longer together.”
After he spoke, without hesitation she said, “Okay.”
He released her hair, lifted his hand and ran his finger down the soft skin of her hairline, right in front of her ear, down to the spot where her jaw met her neck.
Her lips trembled.
“Okay, what?” he asked softly.
“I’ll stay another night,” she answered, her voice just as soft.
Nate smiled.
Lily sighed.
Chapter Eight
Lily
“Nathaniel’s here, Lily.”
Lily jumped. Victor had peeked his brown head around the door of the guest bedroom and after one look at her, he started smiling.
He opened the door fully and straightened in its frame. “You look lovely.”
“I do?” Her voice was uncertain and maybe a little frightened.
“Yes, Lily, you do.”
“I…” She didn’t know what to say, she didn’t consider herself lovely. She’d never been lovely. She had no idea that she was lovely.
In fact, she had no idea why Nate had asked her out in the first place. Temporary insanity, she decided. Or more likely thinking she was suffering from it and feeling sorry for her after she went off half-cocked at his innocent flicking of a cigarette butt. Thousands of people flicked thousands of cigarette butts a day. She acted like he’d just gone on a murder spree. The thought of it made her nearly expire from mortification.
But she was not going to look a gift horse, or in this case Fazire’s magical genie horse in the mouth as the whole reason Nate asked her out had to be Fazire’s magic.
The only thing she could think to say to Victor was, “Thank you.”
Victor inclined his head and she could swear he was laughing at her, not, however, unkindly.
This was the weirdest situation she’d ever been in, in her whole entire life.
Not that she had been in very many weird situations; she’d lived a pretty sheltered life.
That was, of course, if you didn’t count the fact that one of the “adults” participating in her upbringing was a real-life genie which she didn’t count because, as it was all she’d ever known, she found it the most natural thing in the world.
But there she was, staying with people she barely knew although she felt like she’d known them forever. She was taking advantage of their kindness although her mother and especially her father, who thought politeness and good manners were practically more important than oxygen, taught her not to take advantage of anyone. And she was going out on a date with their son although somehow it seemed that she was their daughter and they were unbelievably proud she was going out on a date with the tall, dark, handsome, popular captain of the football team.
Unsure of what to do, Lily just stood there.
She’d never been on a date in her life.
She’d dressed in one of the outfits she’d bought the day before while out shopping with Laura. She couldn’t afford it but she adored it so she charged it as well as everything else she bought yesterday. If her mother knew she was using her credit cards on anything but necessities, Becky would have a brain haemorrhage.
She wore a straight, pencil skirt in the palest pink that was boldly patterned around the hem in vermillion and orange. She topped it with a tight-fitting, pink cotton camisole and a lightweight cotton vermillion cardigan that she left open at the front. Laura had loaned her a pair of her shoes (what Lily didn’t know was that they were Danielle’s and if she had known she wouldn’t have worn them, she’d had the same reaction to Danielle as she’d had to Jeffrey), red, spike-heeled sling backs.
She looked straight from the fifties without the scarf. A Pink Lady with even more attitude.
She felt like an idiot.
She had absolutely no idea she looked stunningly chic.
She picked up the small, sleek, matching red bag Laura had loaned her.
“Is everything all right?” Victor was watching her closely.
“I…” She started again and stopped then she looked at him hopelessly. She didn
’t know him as far as she could throw him but somehow she trusted him enough to tell him, “Victor, I don’t know what to do.”
Her voice was so quiet she was surprised he heard her. But he did and he walked into the room.
“What do you mean?” He looked slightly bewildered and his usually very controlled face showed it.
She tucked the bag under her arm and brought her hands up, her fingers fidgeting then she studied her manicure.
“I’ve never been on a date,” she confided to her hands, her voice even softer.
“Bloody hell,” Victor cursed, “you must be joking.”
Her head came up and her hands went out. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
She meant her appearance, what she considered her bizarre Pink Lady outfit, just her. She was, she knew from all the teasing at school, years and years of teasing, no raving beauty and she never would be. She’d lost weight, she wasn’t blind, she could see herself in the mirror and read a clothing label but regardless of that, she’d never gained any confidence.
“How old are you?” Victor’s eyes had narrowed.
“Twenty-two.”
“Bloody hell,” he repeated.
“That isn’t helping,” she tried to joke but she sounded as scared as she was.
“You must have grown up in a convent school, am I right?”
She was surprised at this response but answered honestly, “No, just a small town in Indiana.”
He came forward.
“Same thing,” he said dismissively, his hand went to the small of her back and he guided her resisting body firmly to the door. “You just go downstairs, smile at Nathaniel and after that, I promise, Nathaniel will take care of the rest.”
She relaxed enough to let him guide her down the hall. “Why do you call him Nathaniel when everyone else calls him Nate?”
There had been much talk of Nate. It seemed Nate was a popular topic of conversation with just about everyone. Her first night with Jeffrey who, Lily thought, might not like Nate very much; the next day when she met Danielle who talked about Nate quite a lot and liked him a whole lot more than their brother; at the party last night where everyone mostly wanted to know where Nate was in order to talk to him; and all day that day, a day she spent with Laura and Danielle out to lunch and shopping in stores where she couldn’t even afford to buy a hair clip.
Lily was trying to keep her mind on other things, anything other than her date with the man of her dreams, the man of her most fervent wishes, the man she’d been reading about in her romance novels for years. A man come alive and now, taking her out to dinner.
But try as she might, she couldn’t stop herself from asking about him.
“Nathaniel is the name of a gentleman, a genius, a man of means and power. Nate is just a name. And my Nathaniel is a Nathaniel,” Victor said it with such pride that Lily couldn’t stop herself from turning and smiling at him.
“You know, I think you’re right,” she told him and Victor beamed his approval at her words.
“He prefers Nate, to my and Laura’s everlasting annoyance,” Victor confided in a mock-whisper.
They were walking down the stairs by this time and she tilted her head back and laughed at his comment. And she found at that moment that she very much liked this intense man. He reminded her of her father. And therefore, being Lily Jacobs, she told him so (in a manner).
“You’re a very kind man, Victor, thank you for all the kindness that you’ve shown me.”
He stopped nearly to the bottom of the stairs, abruptly and in deep surprise. He turned to stare at her as if her words were audacious.
“I…” It was his turn to stammer and she found herself uncomfortable with his loss of control. He seemed a man who needed to be in control at all times.
She was however, confused. He had to know he was kind, for goodness sake, it wasn’t as if she told him he was Superman and she thought he could catch bullets with his teeth.
He found his control and she was happy for that as he seemed to need it, seemed to wear it like armour.
Then he remarked, “I must say, Lily, I’m delighted your purse was snatched.”
“What?” she said somewhat loudly on an effervescent giggle.
“If it hadn’t been, we may never have met you,” he explained, taking her hand and patting it in a fatherly gesture that seemed entirely out of character for him.
“What’s going on?” Jeffrey was slouching against the wall of the entry, his arms crossed on his chest, his face registering his unhappiness.
Lily and Victor finished descending the stairs and at the sight of Jeff, Lily felt a twinge of guilt she didn’t quite understand. She also noted that there was a difference to how Jeffrey stood with his shoulder against the wall than how Nate did it. Jeff’s was an insouciant slouch while Nate’s was a predatory lean.
“Lily and I were sharing a private moment,” Victor stated, his voice somehow shut off.
“Lily seems to be amassing a fair few private moments with members of the family in a very short period of time,” Jeff commented.
Something about his words stung and the way he said them made it stunningly clear that was his intention.
Victor’s face turned to stone as he stared at his son.
“Oh Lily, you look lovely!” Laura was coming out of the drawing room no doubt heralded by Lily’s near-shout and thankfully broke the odd tense moment. She was followed by Nate and at the sight of him, Jeff’s residual sting faded away and Lily caught her breath.
It was the first time she’d seen him when he wasn’t wearing a suit, instead he was wearing a pair of faded jeans, a black, v-necked sweater and black boots.
And he looked absolutely beautiful.
“It’s going to be hard for her to get on your bike in that get-up.” Jeff’s voice had gone from glum and contentious to jovial and vaguely snotty.
“Bike?” Lily murmured, confused, her awe at the sight of Nate melting.
“You can take the Jag,” Victor offered.
“You rode here on a bike?” She stared at Nate, the very thought of Nate on a bike was preposterous. Romantic heroes didn’t pedal around on bikes. It was, of course, London where bicycles were likely the best and easiest transport but she just couldn’t credit it and she found it somewhat disappointing even though she knew that was not very nice.
“The car, unfortunately, was scheduled to go in for a service. We’ll take a taxi,” Nate explained.
“Bike?” Lily repeated, still at a loss.
Jeff pushed away from the wall.
“Yeah, his Ducati. Nate likes to go fast, live dangerously, that kind of thing.” This was said in a way that was cutting but it seemed there was jealousy underlying his tone.
“What’s a Ducati?” Lily turned to Victor, still bemused but Laura answered her.
“A motorcycle, my dear, and he shouldn’t ride it. It’s dangerous. I keep telling him he’s going to kill himself, racing around on a motorcycle and in that blasted sports car but does he listen to his mother? No, he most certainly does not.”
Her eyes flew to Nate with delight.
A motorcycle!
Lily completely dismissed the idea of a man like Nate, a man who looked like Nate, a man who acted like Nate, a man who rode a motorcycle (like Nate), listening to his mother ever.
All she could think about was his motorcycle.
Her father had a motorcycle; he used to take her out on it all the time because she’d beg him to do it. She loved it, loved being out in the open air. She loved the speed, the danger (though there was no real danger, Will was always very careful and never took chances, but she could pretend).
Therefore she cried excitedly, “I love motorcycles!”
She had been telling herself all day to be cool, calm and collected. To act the sophisticate, as she was sure Nate was used to, not to let on she was just a small town girl which she was sure would bore Nate to death.
But, a motorcycle!
She had
no idea that she looked exactly, enticingly, alluringly as excited as she sounded.
She turned shining eyes to Nate and asked, “Can we take your motorcycle?”
Nate, who she saw, and Jeff, who she did not see, were both staring at her, lost in her look of delight and abandoned desire.
Nate forced himself out of his daze first.
He walked towards her, a grin playing about his sensual lips.
“I’d say your skirt is not conducive to a ride on the bike.”
Without a hint of artifice or any idea of the reaction her words would cause, she waved her hand casually in front of her and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll pull it up.”
Victor cleared his throat.
Laura dropped her head and smiled at the floor.
Jeff’s (she did not see) mouth fell open and immediately (also Lily did not know) he decided silently that he hated Nate even more.
Nate’s eyes warmed in a way that made Lily’s belly do a funny flutter.
“Do you have an extra helmet?” she asked, doggedly pursuing her opportunity of a ride on his bike just as she doggedly ignored the strange flutter in her belly.
“I keep one here, yes,” his deep voice answered.
“That settles it,” she announced, clapped her hands in front of her and linked her fingers, staring up at him with glee.
“Lily.” His tone said he was going to refuse her and she leaned toward him.
“Nate, please? My Dad has a cycle,” she pronounced this “sickle” as many people in Indiana did the same, “he used to take me out all the time. I’m a good rider, you’ll see. I won’t be distracting at all. I promise.”
Her words were said in all innocence and amusement flickered in Nate’s eyes just as Jeff muttered, “That would be impossible.”
She turned to Jeff.
“No really,” she said on a huff, “I’m a very good passenger, Dad said so.” And she turned back to Nate.
He was watching her as if she was the most fascinating creature ever born.
Somehow at the same time, he also had an expression that clearly said he was going to say no.
“Please,” she begged on a whisper and Nate’s eyes flickered again and again her belly did a funny thing that felt just like a somersault.
Three Wishes Page 8
