Nick’s fingers curled around my own without hesitation. “Why is that?”
I forgot what we were talking about. All my senses focused on how Nick held my hand and how spellbound it made me feel. “Uh . . .” Disengage, my brain yelled. Right. I tugged my hand free. My heart yelled what an idiot I was.
Nick’s lip ticked up at my obviously flustered state. “Everything all right?”
No. “Yes.” I distanced myself from him. The miniature magnolia tree was blooming and beautiful. A great distraction. I headed for it.
Nick wasn’t going to be ignored. “What were you saying about Skye? Who is now out of my sight and alone with Liam.”
I lightly touched the petals of one of the blooms. “First of all, Liam thinks of you as a mentor, even a second father, so don’t ruin that. And Skye needs to know you trust her. As her only parental figure, that’s more important than ever.”
I turned and noticed Nick’s fist clench.
“Does Skye have any contact with her mom?” I asked nonchalantly. Or as nonchalant as you could be when you ask that kind of question.
“None. I suppose you are going to tell me that it’s unhealthy.”
“Not at all, as long as Skye understands why and she agrees with it.”
“She does,” Nick said brusquely.
I silently moved on to the beautiful pond full of lily pads. Two swans glided along the water. There was a stone bench near the edge. I took a seat on it. It was such a serene spot, even knowing a murderer had owned it a long time ago. The swans placed their heads together forming their iconic heart shape.
Nick sat next to me and sighed. “I find myself apologizing more around you than I ever have.”
“Are you saying you’re sorry?” A smile played in my words.
“I suppose I am. Talking about Alessandria is difficult. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
“You don’t need to apologize, I understand.” More than I cared to admit.
Nick opened his mouth to say something, but for some reason didn’t articulate it. Instead he gazed into my eyes. I could tell he was holding something back.
I turned back to the swans before I got lost in him. “Did you know many swans mate for life?”
“I think I’ve heard that.”
“Most remain faithful partners their entire lives.”
“That’s important to you.” He wasn’t asking.
“Very,” I whispered.
We both sat in silence taking in the swans for a few minutes.
“What is a post consultation?” He caught me off guard with the question and abrupt change of subject.
“Are you talking about the interview we have with our clients when they want to date someone new?”
“Yes, that.”
“It’s a series of questions to see where things may have gone wrong, strategies for the next connection, things like that. Do you want to schedule one?”
“Why not do it here?”
“Now?”
He shrugged. “Why not?”
“Are you sure you don’t want to give it another go with Chanel? You only went on one date.”
“That’s all it takes to know.”
My eyes narrowed while I studied him. His eyes dared me to contradict him, so I didn’t. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
“Okay, fine. Were you attracted to Chanel physically?”
He tossed his head side to side. “She was attractive, but I wasn’t attracted to her.”
“Did you feel like based on your profile we correctly matched you?”
“No.” He didn’t even have to think about it.
“I’m going to disagree with you for now, but what would you like to see different in a future connection?”
“How can you disagree with me? You know I’m right.”
“Your profile is more than your questionnaire.”
A wicked grin played on his face. “So what is your diagnosis of me?”
I rubbed my chest where my blouse was unbuttoned. “I don’t diagnose people at Binary Search.”
“Sure you do. What is your opinion of me, doctor?”
The floating lily pads became awfully fascinating. “This isn’t part of the post consultation questions.”
“I think you can make an exception.”
He was one big exception. Fine. He wanted to know. I faced him. “Honestly, if it were anybody but you, I wouldn’t have allowed you to go on to the next phase based on my initial assessment.”
I thought he would be upset, but instead a hint of gratification appeared on his face. “Now we are getting somewhere. Why is that?”
“Because of that right there. You’re arrogant and, honestly, you have narcissistic tendencies,” I blurted.
He leaned back. “Is that what you really think of me?”
“I don’t know,” I breathed out. “You’re a living dichotomy.” I faced the pond, trying to regain my equilibrium that he could so easily steal.
He drew close and spoke barely above a whisper. “Just so you know, you confuse the hell out of me too.”
A small laugh escaped me.
“Is this the reason you were made my relationship manager? You were worried about me?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“I’m happy it worked out that way,” he whispered in my ear. Not at all upset that I had branded him with a possible disorder.
His breath against my skin made me shiver.
“Carry on with your questions. . . please.”
I took a deep breath, not wanting to ask the next question and more than that, stupidly hoping it didn’t apply. “Do you feel like you were . . . intimate too soon?” I asked the last part in a rush.
He raised his eyebrow. “Is that a real question?”
“It is, but . . . you know, on second thought, let’s skip it.”
“Oh, no. I want to hear the good doctor’s feedback.”
“You were intimate with her?” That made me feel sick to my stomach.
“Is that a problem for you?”
“What you do is your business.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“Neither did you.”
“You got me.” He shrugged. “I kissed her.”
“You did?” Jealousy flared inside of me. “I mean, okay, moving on.”
“I don’t think so.” He waved his finger back and forth. “Why is that an issue for you?”
“It isn’t.”
“You’re lying.”
I hated he could read me like a book. Even more, I hated that it was an issue for me. More than that, I found myself wishing it was me. This was so wrong.
“If you weren’t attracted to her, why did you kiss her?”
“Because she wanted me to, and I thought of it like a parting gift.”
I delivered the biggest stink eye ever. “You probably gave her the wrong impression.”
“It was a kiss, nothing more.”
“Maybe for you.”
“She wasn’t attracted to me either.”
“Are you kidding me? She was turning cartwheels when she found out she’d been paired with you.”
He sat up straight, ire filling him. “She wanted Nicholas Wells. She wasn’t interested in Nick.”
I let that sink in. How was it that he always had me regretting judging him? I blew out a large amount of air and stared out into the distance.
“Kate.” He brushed back my hair with his hand.
I turned toward him.
“Do you get this worked up with all your clients?”
“You’re my first and last.”
“Has it been that terrible for you?”
“You have no idea.” I wasn’t teasing.
He searched my eyes. “What are your feelings about intimacy? We never got to your rules about it and I’m sure you have some.”
That I did. “So are you asking about my personal or professional feelings?”
“I have a feeling for
you they are one and the same.”
He was right, and it frightened me how well he seemed to know me.
This time I didn’t turn from him. I wanted to gauge his reaction. “First, there is a difference between true intimacy and physical affection. Unfortunately, most of us have forgotten that because everything from movies and TV to our peers sell us sex and make us think that’s all you need to have in a relationship, and if you aren’t having it, something is wrong with you. But having a real relationship means putting in a lot of hard work. We have lost the art of courtship in our culture.”
“You want to be courted?”
I nodded. That was exactly what I wanted in a relationship.
“Deep down I think most people do, but they’re afraid. And too often they make sex the anchor in the relationship because it’s easy, or at least they think it is, but it never carries enough weight to hold a relationship steady. And once it crumbles or wanes, they have nothing left. Now, if they make true intimacy their foundation, meaning they get to know someone deeply and build a place where compassion and commitment can happen, they build a place of safety amid vulnerability. If that is their anchor, then sex gets to be the pleasure cruise it was meant to be.”
“I’ve never heard nautical terms used to describe sex before.”
I tucked some loose hair behind my ear. “You think I’m ridiculous.”
It was his turn to become interested in the swans and lily pads. “I think you have some valid points. It’s easy to mistake sex for love. I’ve probably done it more often than I would care to admit.” He rested his hands on his knees and took a moment. “I certainly did in my marriage.”
I also leaned forward on my knees. “Tell me about Alessandria.” Whoa. Where did that come from?
His head tilted my way. “Are you inviting confidences? Because that door swings both ways.”
I thought for a moment. He was right. It wasn’t fair to ask him such a question if I wasn’t willing to reciprocate.
His eyes drew me in to the point I found my head gravitating toward him before I stopped myself. Then he asked a poignant, maybe even painful question.
“Are you willing to be open with me?”
“It’s not really my strong suit, but believe it or not, there was a time it was.”
“Before you were married?”
I jumped up, shocked. “How did you know I was married?” My voice cracked. I began to pace in front of the pond, feeling like I was naked.
Nick jumped up and hesitated for a moment, but before I knew it he’d wrapped me in his arms. “Hey, there.” He stroked my hair like I’d dreamed about when I would watch him to do it on his TV show. It felt better than I ever imagined.
I wasn’t sure if I was in heaven or hell, but I had never felt so safe and insecure all at the same time. I wanted to pull away, all while desperately wanting to sink into him.
“Your dad told me,” he whispered in my ear.
I pulled away, though I still found myself in his grasp. “Why would he do that?” It was something we never talked about with anyone unless it was amongst ourselves, and even then, we rarely spoke of it.
“I think he’s afraid you keep scaring off your friends.”
I laughed even though I felt like crying. “Technically, I wasn’t married.”
“I remember you saying that. Your dad mentioned it was annulled.”
There was that ugly word again. “Best and worst thing that ever happened to me.” I released myself from his clutches and started to walk around the pond. “I still can’t believe he told you.”
Nick stayed by my side. “I’ve upset you.”
“No. Yes. I don’t know. It’s embarrassing.”
“Why?”
“Because I allowed myself to be so taken in by somebody. Did my dad tell you the guy was already married?”
I saw Nick nod from the corner of my eye.
Out of nowhere, a floodgate opened. I wasn’t sure if it was because my emotions so desperately needed to be released or if I’d finally lost my mind. “Did he also tell you that he cruelly used me and left me while I was carrying our baby? And when I miscarried, he shoved the knife in further by dismissing me like I never meant a thing to him. Because I didn’t. I was a pawn in the game he played.”
The tears that had been pricking my eyes dropped one-by-one down my cheek, forming a tiny stream. I tried to wipe them away, but it was useless; they kept on coming.
Nick stopped in his tracks. This was obviously news to him. Great. I bore the rest of the tragedy without having to. I figured since my dad blabbed about the annulment, he’d given him all the gory details. I was going to keep walking, but my name on Nick’s lips made me pause.
“Kate.” We came face to face with each other. His gaze zeroed in on my blurry eyes. In his eyes I saw fury. “He’s a bastard.”
“I agree.” I wiped my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Kate.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s not your fault. But now you know why I have my rules and why I do my best to keep people away, albeit not intentionally. I actually like people.” I smiled
He stepped closer. The fury in his eyes was replaced with a low, burning passion. “I like you, Kate.”
The fire in his eyes was consuming the oxygen between us, making me feel like I couldn’t catch my breath. His next question didn’t help.
“Do you like me?”
I do.
Chapter Thirty-One
I don’t know if Liam likes me.
With Nick and Liam with us all day, Skye and I hadn’t had a chance to really talk. I rolled onto my back in bed. I had almost been asleep when her text came in. The Wells family still lived on Pacific Time instead of Eastern.
He’s just shy, and your dad makes him nervous.
Are you sure?
Positive.
I saw the way the kid looked when they came out of that maze. He was staring at Skye like she was the sun in his sky. At the same time, Nick was awkwardly trying to wipe away the mascara that had run under my eyes. That was a fun conversation, to explain why I was crying and why it looked as though Nick and I were having an intimate encounter. It had ended with me blathering that I should buy waterproof mascara and I liked babies. It wasn’t my finest moment.
Okay. You’re the best.
Do you want to get pedicures and Chinese one night this week while your dad is doing one of his workshops?
Yes!!! Please!!!
Perfect. Let me know which night.
I will. Gotta go. Liam texted.
I told you. Good night.
I didn’t get a response. At least not from her.
Are you still awake? Nick texted.
If I said, no, would you believe me?
My phone buzzed.
I answered it, “I guess that was a no.”
“Hello, Kate.”
“Hello.” I bit my lip.
“Sorry it’s late.”
“That’s okay. Can I help you with something?”
He paused. “We didn’t get to finish our conversation.”
“Which one?”
“You asked me about Alessandria and I never got to answer you.”
“I probably shouldn’t have.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“You are?”
“I want to dispel anything you may have read about us, about me, during that time.”
“Despite what my mother says, I didn’t obsess over every detail of your life when I was younger.”
“So you didn’t cry when you found out I got married?” There was a gleeful, bordering on evil tone to his voice.
Searing heat emanated from my cheeks. My parents were both getting an earful from me, and I was banning them from Nick. “Moving on.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I should have listened to my fans.”
“The breakup of a marriage never makes me feel happy, even when it is a good thing. At least not now,” I conceded. I was more than
giddy when I learned about the demise of his marriage. I’d had a lot of growing up to do at that point in my life.
“Like you, there never should have been a marriage, but . . .” he inhaled deep enough for me to hear, “I did what I had to do to save my child.”
I sat up in bed. “What do you mean?”
“The only anchors Alessandria and I had were our images and . . . sex. When we met, it was a PR dream, and we had explosive chemistry. It worked to further our careers. We let being the ‘it’ couple go to our heads and our bank accounts. Then reality hit. Alessandria got pregnant. She wanted to—” he could hardly say the word, “terminate . . . the pregnancy.”
I placed my hand over my mouth, thinking about Skye not existing. And worse, knowing from the conversation I’d had with Skye that she knew her mother never wanted her.
“I convinced her,” he continued, “what a good opportunity this would be for us. We would allow the press access to our wedding and our journey into parenthood. I felt like I had to sell my soul, but my child was my priority.”
There was a long pause where neither of us spoke.
“Did you love her?” I braved asking.
He didn’t answer right away. “We were too in love with ourselves to be in love with anyone else. But I thought I loved her. I wanted us to be a family. That being said, I didn’t know what real love was until Skye was born. From the moment I held her, my life changed.”
He had me choking up. “I envy you.” I tried to keep my voice steady.
“You want children, don’t you?”
“More than anything.”
“I hope you get your desire.”
“Me too. How about you? Do you want more children?”
“Hmm,” he thought. “With the right woman, perhaps.”
“Perhaps?”
“Skye will be graduating before I know it, and I don’t want to be collecting social security and chasing after toddlers like some of my cohorts back home.”
He made me laugh. “You have a ways to go before that.”
“All I know is I would choose a better mother next time. And keep the press out of my marriage.”
“I hope so, for both Skye’s and your sakes.” I yawned. “I should probably get to bed. Some of us have to work for a living,” I teased.
“Today was a work day for me. I even wrote some when we got back.”
Dating by Design Series Box Set Page 72
