“I got me into this by taking this case,” she finally said. “I’ll get me out of it.”
She sidestepped him and this time he let her go, turning around to watch her leave. “Nicole,” he said, as she reached for the door. Looking back over her shoulder, her gaze sought his, a question in her eyes.
“This isn’t over,” Constantine stated.
Tension charged the air, seconds passing by before she turned and left, the door shutting behind her.
Constantine sat down on the bed and pounded the mattress. Time and time again, those he cared about ended up hurt. He had to make this go away. Had to protect Nicole. The idea of something happening to her destroyed him. Damn it, he didn’t want to care about her. But he did. And no matter how hard he tried to run from that fact, he couldn’t. He was in love with Nicole.
* * *
THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Nicole finished up a long day in court. Nasty details that should have been revealed to the jury had been suppressed and then manipulated by the defense; Nicole’s frustration over the judge’s decision was high.
She walked toward the exit, Constantine waiting for her, leaning against the back wall, watchful. He wore black slacks, a black dress shirt and tie, his hair pulled back. He even made dress clothes look dangerous and sexy, and right now she hated him for it. To say she was intensely aware of him would be an understatement. Every inch of her body screamed with arousal when she looked at him. Anger and hurt did nothing to dispel the feeling. She was all for fighting battles, all for standing up and making a difference, but for once, she’d thought she wouldn’t be doing it alone. She’d been wrong. And she wished she’d never felt that “together” feeling—how do you miss what you don’t know?
Constantine grabbed the door for her, and for an instant their eyes met. Her stomach fluttered, and she quickly averted her gaze. By the time she slid into the back of an unmarked car with him, their knees brushing together, Nicole was ready to come unglued. She shivered despite herself—with want, with emotion.
Another agent started to slide in on the opposite side of the backseat, and Constantine held up a hand. In other words, “go away.” The agent nodded and did as ordered, shutting them into the backseat. Alone. A tinted glass window gave them privacy from the driver. She turned to him, surprised at his actions, not sure what to expect. The drive was short, a mere two blocks. But she didn’t have to guess his intentions for long.
Suddenly, she was in those big, strong arms, warmth surrounding her, his lips slanting over hers, tongue delving into her mouth with possessive heat. Passion and emotion washed over her, taking control, stealing her breath.
When the kiss ended all too soon, Nicole stared up at him, searching his dark eyes, eyes she could lose herself in for a lifetime. Eyes telling her he cared. A knock sounded on the window and she jumped. The short ride was over. No. They needed more time.
“One minute,” Constantine called, his attention never leaving Nicole. “I have to know you’re okay.”
She didn’t ask why. The kiss, the look in his eyes, the way she felt in his arms, told her everything. He cared. He hadn’t shut her out. “Then stay with me.”
His eyes softened a second before another knock sounded. They had to get out and pretend to be strangers again, at least until the trial was over.
Constantine brushed his cheek against hers and whispered her name. Nothing more. The next thing she knew, the door was opening, and with regret, she followed Constantine out of the backseat. Distant, but not nearly as distant as before.
She entered the hotel room a few minutes later filled with the warmth of knowing she and Constantine were finding their way back to each other. Their shared glances, as they decided to order a pizza instead of room service, were so hot, she didn’t know how the other agents could miss the sizzle. But she didn’t care. The trial was almost over, and these guys hated Alvarez. They wouldn’t work against her. They’d been rooting for her in court.
Waiting for the pizza, she sat down on the couch and wrote down notes for her closing statements to review with her team. The two agents on duty played poker on the desk. Constantine took a call from someone, went to his room a few minutes to talk, then to her surprise, returned, no longer avoiding her. He took over a nearby chair and studied a security report that Agent Nelson sent him each evening.
When a knock came at the door, her stomach grumbled hungrily. “Yes!” she said, setting down her papers, preparing to get a soda.
But the agent didn’t return with pizza. Instead, he returned with an awkward look on his face. He glanced at Constantine and then Nicole. “You have a visitor,” he informed her. “Mike Parker. He’s on the list. Says he’s, ah, your husband.”
“Ex-husband,” she corrected, eyeing Constantine. He was already on his feet, his jaw set tight, eyes averted from hers. This was so not good. Her heart felt as if it had slipped to her stomach.
“Let him in?” the agent queried.
Reconciled to her situation, she nodded at the agent. “Let him in.”
A few seconds later, Mike entered, dressed in designer dress slacks and a starched button-down shirt. Blond hair, blue eyes and a million-dollar, prep-school, fake smile were a few of the traits he used to manipulate people, both in and out of the courtroom.
He flashed her one of those smiles. “Good to see you, Nicole.” The words held the hint of flirtation that he couldn’t seem to speak to a woman without using.
She didn’t invite him to sit down. “What can I do for you, Mike?” she asked, her cold tone reserved for him. Coldness meant to repulse his advances. He’d never stopped looking at her as his possession and tried to assert his claim every chance he could. Keeping him at a distance was her best defense.
Mike’s gaze traveled to the table where the two agents played cards and then settled over her shoulder—to where Constantine stood, a flash of discomfort showing on his face; most people wouldn’t notice, but she knew Mike better than she wanted to. Inwardly, she smiled, enjoying his discomfiture.
With a slow slide, Mike returned his attention to Nicole, acting unaffected by Constantine. A lie. He was good at those. “Watched you in court today,” he said. “You looked good.” He winked and glanced at her wrist. “See you still wear the bracelet I gave you for good luck.”
The air crackled with tension. Willpower, pure and simple, was all that kept her from turning and explaining. She wore the bracelet as a reminder of what she never wanted to be again—either as an attorney or as a person. But Constantine would think otherwise. He would think she still cared for Mike—or worse, for her old life.
She swallowed hard, desperate to be rid of Mike and explain to Constantine. “Cut to the chase, Mike. What do you want?”
His lips twisted a bit. “Your father asked me to talk to you.”
Figured. “So talk.”
He glanced over her shoulder again and then back to her. “Can we do this alone?”
She considered declining but decided she’d better hear Mike out. “Fine,” she said, pushing to her feet and heading to the bedroom, her gaze seeking Constantine, who was entering his own room.
Mike followed her into her room and tried to shut the door. She pointed to it. “Oh, no. It stays open.” He grimaced, but left it open.
Nicole crossed her arms and turned to face him. “Now talk.”
He was close, too close, but backing away more would make him feel powerful, as if he had intimidated her. And since he got off on intimidation, that would only drag this out further.
“Your father didn’t send me,” he announced. “I simply thought it past time we talked. You ran off over some outbreak of conscience. I get it that you felt you had to, but it’s time to end this little emotional relay you’re running. Now you’ve gone and put your family in danger.” He took a step toward her and she countered with a step backward.
An evil smile formed on his lips at her actions as he continued, “You’re going to win this case, and it’s a masterpiece of a win
. You’ll pay back whatever debt you feel you owe society by putting Alvarez away. It’s done. You can come home again.”
“We’re divorced! And, my God, you must think I am stupid,” she said. “You and Daddy planned this, didn’t you? An effort to put the firm in the spotlight by way of the press I’m getting.”
He moved quickly then, grabbing her before she knew his intentions. “You took the perfect life and threw it in the trash,” he said, pulling her against his body. “I work for your father. I am supposed to be married to you. Have your affairs, have a separate life, but stop tearing apart the core of this family.”
“You and I are not the core of anything!” She shoved at his chest. “Get off me or I swear I will get all three of those agents to make you leave.”
“It’ll only take one.” Nicole looked up at the sound of Constantine’s voice, thick with danger, his attention fixed on Mike, as he added, “You have no idea how badly I want to hurt you right now, so I suggest you let go of her.”
Mike didn’t let go, possessiveness in his rebuttal. “Touch me and I’ll sue.”
“If you live.”
Mike let go. He stepped back as if burned. And Nicole didn’t blame him. Something in Constantine’s words, his presence, oozed downright menace. “Leave,” Constantine said.
Mike headed toward the door. Constantine eased back enough for Mike to pass…barely.
Constantine faced Nicole. “You also have no idea,” he said, his words taut, “how much I hate the idea of that pencil-neck, preppy lowlife touching you. But you know what I hate even more? I hate that you wear his bracelet.”
And then he was gone, leaving her to gape after him. She couldn’t lose Constantine over Mike. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Mike was nothing. Constantine was everything. Constantine was… She loved him. She loved him so very much.
She didn’t think anymore; instead Nicole stormed out of her room—unconcerned about the other agents’ noticing her—with one destination in her sights. Constantine’s bedroom.
21
NICOLE DIDN’T BOTHER to knock before charging into Constantine’s room. She slammed the door shut and leaned against it, hands flat on the wooden surface behind her, her chest heaving with anxiety.
Constantine sat on the bed, face buried in his hands. He looked up at her. “Go away, Nicole. We have nothing to talk about.”
His words cut through her with the sharpness of a blade. “Mike means nothing to me.”
He ran his hand over his thigh. “I don’t want to hear this.” Pain dripped from his words, although he tried to appear cold, as cold as she had been to Mike.
She didn’t want Constantine to hurt, but at least she knew he cared. She darted toward him then, falling to her knees in front of him, and put her hands on his muscular thighs. Touching him. Touching him felt right. “I wear the bracelet to remind me of what I never want to become again. To remind me that no matter how bad it gets in court, I am not like him.”
In response, he distanced himself from her—no sign of him reaching for her. His eyes were black ice. “That you need that reminder says everything,” he whispered. “Your past defines who you are.”
She ripped the bracelet from her arm. “I don’t need the bracelet. I’m done running from the past. I’m done letting it define me. I’m resigning from my job. I’m going to start fresh. I need to start fresh. And I want to do it with you.”
Surprise flashed in his face. A hint of hope. Then it was gone; the coldness, back. “Until I do something that makes you question yourself, or maybe my intentions. Something that has you painting me as a bad influence.”
“No.” How could she get through to him? At this point, proclaiming her love would fall on deaf ears. He believed she had a negative opinion of him and, on some level, didn’t trust him. She recalled a conversation they’d had back in Houston—she knew what to do.
Her eyes traveled the room, looking for the tool she sought before pushing to her feet. At the window, she tugged away the sashes holding the curtains and returned to her prior position, on her knees, in front of him.
Nicole stared up at him, hoping he saw the truth in her eyes as she spoke. “I believe in you. I trust you.” She held out the sashes. “Tie me up, Constantine. You know I wouldn’t let you if I didn’t completely trust you. Be the first. Be the last. Be the only one.”
A look of disbelief crossed his face. “What?”
She repeated her words, eager to make them take root in his mind. “You said I wouldn’t let you tie me up until I trusted you completely. I do. I… Constantine.” She drew a deep breath for courage. “I have no idea how you feel about me, but I—”
And then she was in his arms. He lay back on the mattress, pulling her with him. A second later, she was the one on her back, Constantine’s big body on top of her, kissing her, devouring her with passion and warmth.
Long moments later, he tore his lips from hers. “You want to know how I feel about you?” he asked, staring down at her. “I love you, Nicole. I love you with all of my heart.”
Her arms wrapped around his neck, her heart swelling with joy. “I love you, too. I love you so much.”
Tenderness filled his face. “Then do run away. Run away with me, Nicole. Take a year off from work, and travel the world. With me. We’ll be careful. Carlos won’t be able to follow us.”
Her mind was still reeling from the “take a year off and travel the world” statement, when he spoke again.
“It’ll work, cariña. If we’re lucky, he’ll be in custody by the time you and I hit our first destination. Nelson is waiting for a yes, and then he’ll coordinate everything. So say yes.”
Everything was falling into place. “I… Yes. Okay.” Her fingers brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. “But I can’t just run off for a year, as wonderful as that sounds. I have to figure out what is next for me. Maybe my own firm. I have some money, but—”
He grabbed her hand tenderly and kissed it. When they were intimate, he did that often, and she loved it. “Forget money,” he said. “I told you, I have money. For travel, for whatever you need.”
“I can’t forget money.” Working as a public servant didn’t allow her much saving, and taking money from her father meant working for him, which would never happen again.
“If money weren’t an issue, would you take the year and enjoy it?”
“Yes, but—”
He kissed her. And kissed her some more. By the time his lips left hers, she ached with need, and couldn’t remember what they had been talking about. But he did. “Money isn’t an issue,” he declared. “We’ll leave the day the trial ends.”
She didn’t consider arguing. She loved him and he, her, and she believed in that for the first time in her life. “All right, then,” Nicole whispered. Somehow she still held the sashes in her hands. She smiled. “Want to tie me up to seal the deal?”
“Later,” he murmured huskily. “Now I just want to make love to you, Nicole. Nice and slow.” And he kissed her again, starting with her lips and then exploring, tasting, loving, until she shivered with release. And then he started all over again.
* * *
THREE DAYS LATER Nicole stood in the courtroom. She was ecstatic as she heard the jury’s guilty verdict for every charge against Alvarez. Deliberation had taken a mere four hours. This was a victory Nicole felt on so many levels that she wanted to dance with joy. Next up would be Flores, but her boss was handling that one.
The minute she broke free of the chaos that followed the court’s adjournment, her eyes found Constantine’s, sharing a silent look of happiness with him. They’d done it. Alvarez would never hurt anyone again.
As for Carlos, the Bureau had tracked him down through an informant and executed the arrest perfectly.
Reporters and flashing cameras awaited them outside on the courtroom steps, and Nicole gave a short statement. Not soon enough, it was over, and she slid into the passenger seat of a car, Constantine by her side.
Nicole
and her family would be safe. Everything about Constantine’s plan had fallen into place.
Nicole couldn’t wait to get to Greece—the pictures in the ads had been gorgeous. For once, she was living for the pure thrill of it, taking chances, and loving it.
Constantine held her hand as he drove the car away. Nicole smiled at him. Smiled because she was embarking on a new adventure, and she couldn’t wait to see what came next.
She was happy.
Epilogue
NICOLE LAY TIED to a massive bed with fluffy white linens, ensconced within the massive walls of the Greek villa that Constantine had rented for an extended stay. A month, maybe two. Then they would be off to a new destination.
A breeze blew in through the open patio doors, the sheer white drapes of the bedposts billowing with its cool touch. They were celebrating their future with champagne, chocolate and a game of sensual play.
Even further cause for celebration, Nicole’s sister had seen the light in the midst of all the darkness. She was going to travel for a while, with some hot man she had met in Hawaii, and then decide what was next. Nicole even thought they might open a law firm together. They’d both return from exploring the world and get back to work.
Right now though, there was only one thing Nicole wanted to explore. Constantine stood at the foot of the bed, gloriously naked and erect—a temptation she couldn’t touch. Her body ached with a burn only he could soothe. He devoured her with his eyes, and the result was remarkably arousing.
“Please come here,” she whispered hoarsely.
“Impatient?” he asked, teasing her with his voice.
“Yes. And please remember whatever you do to me, I intend to return tenfold.”
He laughed, the sound deep and sultry. His knees came down on the mattress, his hands spreading her thighs, until he lowered his shoulders between them. A warm trickle of breath touched her core, and she gasped.
She would have cried out for more, but his hands possessively moved over her hips and then, out of nowhere, a velvet box appeared on her stomach.
Her breath lodged in her throat. Was that what she thought it was? He kissed her stomach and peered up at her. “Say you’ll marry me, and I’ll let you see what’s inside.”
Winning Moves Page 33
