Needing Nicole (The Cantrelle Family Trilogy Book 2)

by Patricia Kay

  And when he erupted, he felt as if something inside him had shattered, and he held onto her as tightly as he could. He called her name over and over, and when he was finally spent, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her damp cheek.

  He had made up his mind. Nicole was too important to him to take any chances with her life.

  Tomorrow he would cancel the plan.

  The first thing Saturday morning Jack called Jenny. “Look,” he said before she could say anything, “I’ve been thinking. You were right. It’s too dangerous to go ahead with this plan of ours. I’ve decided to call it off.”

  Jenny gasped.

  “What’s wrong?” Jack said, but he knew.

  “It’s too late, Jack. Derek called me last night, and I told him.”

  The minute Jack hung up from talking with Jenny he called Paul O’Malley, the investigator he’d hired. “Derek Arnold knows,” he said.

  “I’ll get over to his place right away.”

  “Call me the minute he makes a move in this direction.”

  “I will,” O’Malley promised.

  Jack hung up the phone slowly. He stood there for a long moment, thinking. Then he walked into the kitchen.

  The smell of frying bacon filled the air. Nicole stood at the stove, a spatula in her hand, still in her thigh-high sleepshirt, disheveled hair tumbling about her shoulders. She was humming. Something twisted in Jack’s chest.

  She turned when he walked in, gave him a radiant smile and leaned toward him. He dropped a soft kiss on her upturned lips, said, “Umm, that smells good.”

  There was a question mark in her eyes, and Jack knew he hadn’t covered his concern well. He’d better be more careful. He didn’t want her worrying, too. He smiled to show her there was no problem, and slipped his hands around her waist.

  She sighed and rested against him for a moment. He breathed in the sweet, clean fragrance of her hair, buried his face in its softness for long moments. “You smell even better than the bacon,” he said.

  “Flattery will get you anything,” she murmured, laughter in her voice.

  “Anything?” The ache around his heart expanded. He hadn’t known love could hurt this much. He caressed her, running his hands over her body to assure himself that she was there, in his arms, safe and warm and full of life.

  “Keep that up,” she said, “and your bacon will burn.”

  He squeezed her tight, kissed her neck, then released her. Grinning, he smacked her bottom. “You’d better not burn my breakfast,” he muttered.

  “I’ll burn something else if you’re not careful,” she said, laughing and grabbing for him.

  He feinted, dancing out of her grasp.

  Nicole turned back to her cooking, still laughing, and Jack thought how much fun she was. He’d never realized an intimate relationship could be so much fun. He appreciated her ability to tease him and play with him and make him feel special.

  He walked to the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup of coffee, then leaned against the kitchen counter and watched her. Several times as she finished frying the bacon, she’d turn and wink at him over her shoulder.

  “Nicole,” he said. “I talked to Jenny, and she said she talked to Derek Arnold last night.”

  “Oh?” Her shoulders stiffened. She kept her face averted as she picked up the plate of cooked bacon and brought it to the table. When she finally looked at him, he knew exactly what she was thinking. “So this might be over soon.”

  He nodded. That was the other thing that was bugging him, the thing he didn’t want to recognize, the thing he wished would just go away.

  They both knew that once Derek Arnold made his move and they were able to resolve Elise Arnold’s fate, there would be no reason for Jack to stay in New Orleans. The knowledge hovered in the air between them, burned in her dark gaze, quivered in her taut body. He could see how hard she was fighting to keep her tone normal, to keep him from seeing how upset she was by this news. He wanted to reassure her. He wanted to tell her that what existed between them would always be important to him, that he’d never forget her.

  But his throat was too full to speak.

  He knew those words wouldn’t be enough.

  And there were no other words he could say.

  * * *

  Nicole tried to pretend everything was okay. But she was filled with a terrible uncertainty, a sick fear that gnawed at her and grew as the day wore on. She did her best to hide her unhappiness, but she didn’t think she was doing a very good job of it.

  Oh, dear God. How would she survive it when Jack left her? This question beat at her until it was all she could think of. Ever since she’d made such a disastrous mistake with Mark, she had been afraid to trust her instincts; she’d been leery of getting too close to any man. Since Mark, Guy was the only man she had dated. And that was because he had been safe, and she knew it.

  She’d gone dancing every Friday night and flirted and had a good time, but she’d never even considered any of the men she met as possible candidates for her heart or her bed. For a while, after Mark had run out on her, she had even tried to change herself, thinking she was at fault for the whole fiasco. She’d tried to tone herself down, wear more conservative clothes, subdue her lusty, physical nature.

  She’d been miserable. Gradually, she’d come to realize that she didn’t have to change her entire personality, that there was nothing wrong with her wearing colorful clothes or having fun. The only thing she had to be careful of was who she chose to spend her time with, who she chose to share her life.

  And she had been careful.

  She’d been so careful she’d been bored silly.

  Until she met Jack.

  Jack had brought a dimension into her life that she’d sorely missed. He’d brought excitement, adventure, passion and love. When she was with him, she felt wholly and completely alive. But she was scared silly. Scared that once he left her, nothing would ever make her feel alive again.

  The phone rang at three-thirty that afternoon. Jack jumped to answer it. “It might be Paul O’Malley,” he said.

  Nicole nodded.

  But it wasn’t. It was Nicole’s Uncle Justin, as Nicole was able to figure out from Jack’s end of the conversation. He talked to her uncle for a few minutes, then held the phone out to her. His expression was thoughtful. “He wants to talk to you.”

  Nicole took the phone. “Hello, Uncle Justin.” She wondered what he thought about Jack’s answering her phone.

  “Nicole, chere, I have remembered something, something I think might help Jack find Elise. He will tell you about it.” He paused, then added, “I have been thinking about this for the past two weeks.” His voice became choked up. “I am praying that Elise is still alive, that the good Lord will see fit to have spared her life. I... I know it will be hard, chere, but I will tell Lisette everything if I have to. I hope and pray that I will be granted another chance... a chance to know this child of mine...” His voice broke.

  Nicole felt his pain and was ashamed of herself for being so wrapped up in her own problems she hadn’t given much thought to how he must be feeling. Of course, Jack’s news about Elise Arnold would have shaken her uncle. Of course, he had been worrying and praying. Given the kind of man he was, his warmth and goodness, of course, he had been suffering. “Uncle Justin,” she said softly. “We’re going to do everything we can to find her.” She didn’t say, if she’s still alive, but knew they were both thinking the same thing.

  “God bless you, chere. Please call me the moment you have any news.”

  Nicole slowly placed the receiver into its cradle, then turned to face Jack.

  “He finally remembered the name of Michelle Sonnier’s aunt,” Jack said. “He said it took awhile, but something triggered the memory yesterday. The woman lives in Abbeville—or at least she did twenty-nine years ago.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Marie Sonnier.”

  “You know, Jack, Abbeville is a really small town.
If Marie Sonnier is still alive, if she still lives there, she’d be easy to find.”

  “If she’s still alive. There are a lot of ‘ifs’ in this equation,” Jack said.

  “This is still the best lead you’ve got.”

  “Yes, it is. I wish it had come before. I—” He broke off, gave Nicole a worried glance.

  “Are you sorry we let Derek Arnold know about me? Is that why you’re acting so worried?”

  Jack grimaced. “I thought I was hiding it rather well.”

  Nicole smiled. “I know you too well by now. I knew something was bothering you when you walked into the kitchen this morning, but I thought...” She didn’t finish the sentence, because what she wanted to say, and couldn’t say, was she thought he was feeling guilty about the fact that he would soon be leaving New Orleans and he didn’t want her to know. “Are you going to go to Abbeville?” she said instead. She had to stop feeling sorry for herself. She’d gone into this relationship with her eyes open. She had decided it was worth the risk, so she’d gambled.

  And lost.

  “I can’t go anywhere until we know what Derek Arnold’s going to do.” He hesitated.

  “What?”

  Jack sighed. “We have to face the fact that there may be no reason to go to Abbeville. Maybe all this looking and questioning people is like chasing windmills. Maybe it’s completely immaterial.”

  “Because Elise Arnold is dead,” Nicole said.

  “Yes, because Elise Arnold is dead.”

  Nicole chewed on her bottom lip, her own misery forgotten for a few moments. “For my uncle’s sake, I hope we find out something soon. If she’s dead, well, he’s got to learn to live with it.” Her face twisted. “Oh, I hope she’s not. I hope Derek Arnold comes to New Orleans and does or says something that will tell us positively that Elise is alive. And I hope you can find her.”

  Jack sighed. “I hope so, too.

  At six o’clock the phone rang again, and this time both Nicole and Jack jumped.

  “Let me answer it,” Nicole said. It was going to be bad enough once Jack left; she didn’t think she needed the added complication of trying to explain to her friends and family what exactly he’d been doing there. Worse, she didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for her.

  Jack stood at her elbow. His blue eyes were anxious. “Hello,” Nicole said.

  “Hi! It’s me, your cranky old boss!” Julianne said.

  Nicole grinned. “Hi, Julianne.” She waved Jack away. “You’re not cranky, and you’re not old.”

  “Thanks. Listen, what’re you and the gorgeous hunk doing tonight?” Julianne was one of the few people who knew Jack was staying with Nicole—and why.

  “We hadn’t planned anything. We’ve been sticking kind of close to the house.”

  “Why? Has something happened?” Julianne said eagerly. Nicole knew their plot to trap Derek Arnold appealed to Julianne’s sense of the dramatic. “Not yet, but all the traps have been set.”

  “The husband knows about you, you mean?”

  “Yep. He called Jack’s sister last night, and she told him what we’d told her to tell him. So now we’re waiting.”

  “Are you nervous?”

  “A little,” Nicole admitted. She lowered her voice so Jack wouldn’t hear her. “Actually I’m too miserable to be nervous.”

  “Miserable? Why?”

  “Because this situation will probably be resolved soon, and then Jack will leave me.”

  “Oh, Nic,” Julianne commiserated. “Maybe he’ll surprise you. Maybe he won’t leave.”

  “Yeah, sure. And I’m going to hit the sweepstakes next week.” She laughed cynically. “Actually, I probably have a better chance of winning the sweepstakes than I do of keeping you-know-who here.”

  “You need to get out, forget your troubles, kiddo,” Julianne said. “Which is why I called, anyway. How’d you like to come and see me act tonight?

  “Act tonight! You didn’t tell me you’d gotten a part.”

  “I was keeping it as a surprise.” Julianne chuckled. “Actually, I was afraid I’d be so bad I wouldn’t want anyone to see me, but... I’m pretty good! If you and lover-boy want to come, I’ll leave tickets for you at the box office.”

  “We’ll be there,” Nicole promised.

  * * *

  Jack wasn’t enthusiastic about going to see Julianne in a play that evening. He really thought they should burrow in at Nicole’s, but he could see that Nicole needed distraction, and Lord knows, he probably could use some himself. He was beginning to feel like a first-class rat.

  The play was fun—a one-act comedy by a local playwright—and Julianne was very good, he thought. She played a secondary role, but it was a meaty part, and she had some of the best lines in the production. Afterward, flushed with excitement and success, she asked them if they’d like to join her and some of the other actors.

  Jack could see that Nicole, who was usually the first person ready to go somewhere and have a good time, wasn’t really excited about the prospect, so he made it easy for her. “I think we’d better get home. I’m expecting a phone call.” Julianne nodded, gave Nicole a quick hug and told them goodbye.

  Nicole was very quiet on the way home. Jack wanted to say something, anything, that would take that look of pain out of her eyes, but he felt helpless. He’d always known there could be no future for them. He simply couldn’t give Nicole what she wanted. What could he say? I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I have to leave you. You’ll get over this. Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d get over this.

  So he said nothing.

  That night there was a desperate edge to their lovemaking. When Jack kissed her, and touched her, he could feel the hunger and yearning in her response. He tried to bury himself in her, in the sensations and feelings their act of love evoked. He tried to forget that this might be one of the last times they’d be together like this.

  He forgot about skill and technique and patience. Instead, his kisses were hungry and needy, and he couldn’t wait very long before he was driving into her with a raw urgency that he couldn’t control. And when their release came, within seconds of each other, she cried out his name and clutched him, her fingernails digging into his back.

  Afterward, exhausted and damp with sweat, he gently turned her over, then gathered her close so that her back was fitted tightly up against the front of him. For a long time, he lay there listening to her breathing, his nose buried in her fragrant hair. He could feel her steady heartbeat, and he wondered what was going through her mind. Every so often he would stroke her, as if to remind himself that she was there, that nothing had changed.

  But they both knew that before long everything would change. The most that Jack could hope for was that he wouldn’t hurt Nicole too badly in the process.

  Chapter 13

  When Nicole left for work Monday morning, Derek Arnold had still not made a move toward New Orleans. Jack talked to Paul O’Malley, who called from his car phone at six a.m., and Paul reported that all was quiet.

  So Jack took Nicole to work, made her promise to stay in the building the entire day and told her he’d be parked at the curb at five o’clock when she quit.

  Actually, he hadn’t wanted her to go to work at all, but she had insisted. “He doesn’t know where I work, Jack. How can anything possibly happen to me there?”

  Jack shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just worried, that’s all.”

  She had given him a sad smile, kissed him and said, “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  Afterward Jack felt guilty. Hell, he should have been the one to reassure her, not the other way around. He kept thinking of how young and beautiful, how vulnerable she’d looked in her soft turquoise wool dress when she’d walked through the wrought-iron gates to her building.

  He drove quickly back to her place. He wanted to be there if Paul O’Malley called. In his gut, Jack felt if Derek Arnold was going to do anything about the information Jenny had fed him Friday n
ight, today would be the day he’d do it. He would have had all weekend to sit and think about it, and by this morning, he would have made up his mind.

  Jack made himself a pot of coffee and sat at the kitchen table with his notebook. He looked at his notes about Elise, but they didn’t interest him. Not this morning. His gaze wandered around the cheerful kitchen. Everywhere he looked he saw touches of Nicole’s personality, her life with Aimee. Aimee’s yellow plastic mug. Her high chair. The big red porcelain pig that held cookies. A pair of Nicole’s silver earrings that lay forgotten on the kitchen counter. A crayon drawing hung on the front of the refrigerator with a magnet.

  Other things reminded him of the past week: the open pantry, where he’d cornered Nicole one night, and where they’d ended up making love; the chipped sugar bowl sitting in the middle of the table and how she’d teased him about putting two heaping teaspoonsful of sugar in his coffee; even the stove and how he loved to slip up behind Nicole and snake his arms around her while she cooked. Even now, thinking about it, his palms remembered the exact texture of her firm breasts, how they seemed to fill his hands perfectly, as if they’d been made with him in mind.

  Jack laid his head in his arms. He could hear his heart beating, keeping time with the kitchen clock. Suddenly, he just had to hear the sound of Nicole’s voice. His head told him there was absolutely no reason to worry about her; she was perfectly safe at work. His heart told him to call her.

  He walked to the phone in the hall, picked it up, pressed the numbers he’d already committed to memory. He waited impatiently for her to come on the line.

  “Miss Belizaire’s office,” she said in her soft, throaty voice.

  Something warm curled into Jack’s stomach at the sound. “Hi,” he said. “How’s it going this morning?”

  “It’s a typical Monday. Very busy.”

  She sounded too businesslike. “Is someone there? Can you talk?”

  “I can talk for a minute. Have you heard anything from Paul?”