by Leanne Banks
“Is Damien more like you or Rafe?”
“Damien is me times ten,” Michael said. “He used to be described as the terminator because he never let his emotions affect his decisions. Rafe hides his wounds with a joke. I remember when we were kids, he stepped on a nail and tore up his foot. My parents didn’t take him to the doctor until the next day because he kept saying it wasn’t that bad.”
“So, he was like that even before your family was split up,” Nicole mused, and even though she’d heard the story of what had happened to the Medicis before, the horror of it hit her again. “Rafe’s been so determined for Joel to know that he has a father and that his father will always be there for him. I know the loss was terrible, but Rafe comes across as so strong. He’s so confident, it’s almost-”
“Frightening?” Michael finished for her. “You look beneath the surface. You won’t underestimate him.”
“My sister did,” she said, and wondered if Tabitha had been afraid of Rafe because of his raw power.
“I think you’re smarter than that,” he said.
She laughed and shook her head. “Smart enough to know I’m not the right woman to handle that man.”
“What makes you say that?”
“He needs a woman who can stand toe-to-toe with him and look him in the eye without flinching. Plus, most powerful men aren’t satisfied with just one woman,” she said.
Michael wore an odd expression on his face and looked just beyond her shoulder.
“The things I learn when I leave my younger brother with the lady of the house,” Rafe said and Nicole felt a wave of embarrassment mixed with frustration.
“I’m not the lady of the house,” she said.
“I don’t see any other ladies around here except those who are employed to work here. I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted,” Rafe said. “You not only know what kind of woman I need, you accuse me of running around on my future wife before I’ve even made it down the aisle.”
“I didn’t say you, specifically. I said most powerful men. In my previous life, I saw the inner workings of a lot of those power marriages, and trust me there was definitely a shortage of love and loyalty.”
“Sounds like you might be a little prejudiced when it comes to successful men,” he said lightly, but his gaze held hers.
“Again, I didn’t say successful. I said powerful. There’s a difference. With everything I’ve learned, I came to the conclusion a long time ago that if I ever marry, it will be to an ordinary man.”
Michael chuckled.
Rafe dipped his head, but his eyes were full of challenge. “You may have a tough time pulling that off given the fact that you are not an ordinary woman.”
“You’re full of flattery, but I see straight through it,” she said.
“Michael,” he said, “tell me, would you call Nicole an ordinary woman?”
“Not in a million years,” Michael said.
“She looks like she would be sweet and demure,” Rafe said. “That wealthy upbringing and those classy manners. Then she opens her mouth.”
“You don’t have to talk about me as if I’m not here,” she said, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. Damn it if the man didn’t make her feel more alive than she’d felt in years. She just wasn’t sure she loved or hated the feeling.
“Handful,” Rafe said. “Definitely a handful.”
Unable to bear another moment under his seductive and challenging gaze, she lifted her hands. “I’m going to bed. You two deserve each other.”
“Giving up so easily?” Rafe called after her.
“To quote your brother,” she said over her shoulder. “Not in a million years.”
“You’re right,” Michael said after Nicole left the room. “She’s a handful. What do you have planned for her?”
Rafe glanced at his brother. “I’m going to marry her.”
Michael’s eyes widened. “Whoa, that’s fast.”
Rafe shrugged and took a swallow from his bottle of Corona. “It may take longer than I want, but it will happen.”
“Does she know this?”
“She will soon enough.”
“I see some sparks between you, old man, but I’m not sure she’s sold,” Michael said with more than a trace of doubt. “She doesn’t seem all that impressed with your success.”
“She isn’t,” Rafe said, narrowing his eyes. “But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that she is Joel’s mother and I am his father and we will be a family. I won’t have Joel’s life torn up like mine was. She’ll come around.”
Silence followed. “Pardon my ignorance, but I didn’t hear anything in that plan that includes romance, let alone love. I hear most ladies want one or the other, if not both.”
Rafe shrugged. “I went head over butt over Nicole’s sister. I acted like a fool. I did my lust/love time. I’m not doing it again. Nicole will come around because she has Joel’s best interests at heart. Joel is the most important person in the world to her. She will see that marriage between us is the best thing for Joel.”
“Hmmm,” Michael said, his tone noncommittal.
His brother’s lack of confidence in Rafe’s plan grated on him. “What? You don’t think I can make this happen?”
“Maybe,” Michael said. “I just don’t think this woman is going to commit to you so easily. She seems like she has an ax to grind with super-successful men. Add to the fact that you’re not going to do anything to romance her or even pretend that you love her, and I’m not sure you can pull it off, bro. Not even with all your charm, and heaven knows you got the lion’s share of it among the brothers.”
“Don’t be surprised when I call to tell you I’m hitched,” Rafe said.
“Whatever,” Michael said, clearly still unconvinced. “So, what do you think about our Auntie from Italy? Do you think she’s legit?” Michael paused for a long moment. “Can you imagine if Leo were alive?” he asked, his voice full of a bone-deep wish borne of too many sleepless nights to count.
Rafe felt a stab of sympathy for his brother. Michael had suffered from guilt over Leo’s death for most of his life. “Like I said before, Michael, I wouldn’t count on it.”
“If he is, I’ll find him,” Michael said, the hope dimming in his eyes, but still there.
“Yeah. It’s a long shot, but I’ll look into it from my end, too,” he said.
“It was a long shot that you would be as successful as you are,” Michael said.
“Yeah,” Rafe agreed. “I guess almost anything is possible.”
“Good luck convincing Nicole of that,” Michael said.
Rafe gave him a fake punch. “Don’t give me a hard time. She’s doing a good enough job for three of you.”
On Saturday morning, Rafe took care of business from home, worked out and was sipping a cup of coffee as he read The Wall Street Journal when Nicole and Joel came down the steps. He glanced up to find the two of them dressed almost identically-jeans, T-shirts and tennis shoes.
Spotting a gleam of purpose in both their gazes, he felt an odd pinch of disappointment because he’d decided the three of them could take another cruise this afternoon.
“You look like you two have plans,” Rafe said.
Joel gave a big solemn nod. “We got something important to do. After we eat breakfast, we’re giving soup away.”
Rafe did a double take and met Nicole’s gaze. “Soup?”
She nodded, pride emanating from her. “Yes. Joel and I are going to help at a soup kitchen today. We volunteered in Atlanta and we’re doing the same here in Miami.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I could have donated enough soup for the kitchen for several months, if not a year,” Rafe said.
“It’s not about money,” she said. “It’s about service. Taking action. Giving of yourself.”
“Oh,” he said, seeing that she was trying to teach Joel a different lesson. He also saw that Joel seemed quite proud of the fact that he was participating in the endeavor. Rafe
felt a surprising spike of his own pride. He put aside his newspaper. “Well, hell, I’ll join you.”
Nicole blinked. “You will?”
“Sure,” he said. “Why not? It’s just giving soup to people. I can do that.”
“True, but you have to respect them,” she said.
“Respect?” he echoed, pointing to his chest. “I can give respect.”
“Okay,” she said. “Can we skip using your chauffeur this time?”
He chuckled. “Embarrassed by my wealth?” he asked and shook his head. This was a first and he kinda liked it.
Two hours later, he felt his perspective turned ninety degrees. He served soup to a former CEO, a homeless woman and a dozen children. Rafe had always dedicated a generous amount of his income to charity, but this visit to the soup kitchen made him feel his contribution had been paltry.
At the same time, he couldn’t help but admire Nicole’s empathetic nature and Joel’s industriousness. He saw the joy Joel brought to both the adults and the other children and felt a swell of pride.
Afterward, he drove the three of them to an ice cream shop. “You were good, Joel,” he said. “Give me a high five.”
Joel lifted his hand and Rafe gently slapped it. “You did good, too,” Joel said. “Since it was your first time.”
Rafe heard Nicole unsuccessfully swallow a snicker and glanced up at her. “What?” he asked. “I don’t serve soup on a daily basis.”
“You just need some practice,” Joel said. “Daddy,” he added.
Rafe’s heart twisted in his chest, and he pulled Joel against him. “Yeah, I need some practice at a lot of things.”
Out of the corner of his gaze, he saw Nicole rub one of her eyes before she pulled her sunglasses on to her nose. “I’d say you’re doing pretty good,” she murmured.
“High praise from you,” he said. “You’ve got tough standards.”
She shrugged. “Being an instant single father has got to be tough.”
“I don’t feel single,” he said, allowing Joel to step away and eat his ice cream. “I feel like I have an expert partner.”
Her mouth stretched into a grin and she gave a low laugh. “I haven’t given you Daddy lessons in a while. It’s time for lesson number two. There are no expert parents. We’re all amateurs doing the best we can.”
He met her gaze and felt a dipping sensation in his gut. Nicole touched him and challenged him on more levels than any woman ever had. Oddly enough, Rafe had the sense she’d only scratched the surface of how she could impact him.
“If that’s lesson number two, then what’s lesson number one?”
“Just love ’em,” she said.
“I’m listening, teacher.”
She looked into his eyes and he felt a strange zing that mixed with a longing deep inside him. What would it take to get Nicole to marry him?
Hours later, after the three spent the later afternoon in the pool and enjoying a barbecue dinner, Nicole had retreated to her bedroom. Rafe had noticed she’d been distracted several times throughout the evening.
He’d also noticed that she’d frowned when she’d looked at her cell phone.
That didn’t stop her from helping to put Joel to bed, but she’d disappeared to her room before Rafe could question her. Unable to sleep, he worked on an international expansion plan for his business. He finally grew drowsy and went to bed.
Nicole’s screams awakened him. He sat upright in bed and raced toward her room.
She tossed and turned, struggling with sheets and some unnamed demon. “No, no. You can’t have him. You’ll ruin him.”
He eased his hand over her shoulder. “Nicole, you’re dreaming.”
“No. I won’t let you take him.”
Frowning at her words, he gently nudged her. “Nicole, sweetheart, you need to wake up.”
She shook her head then blinked her eyes. Seconds passed when he could tell that she struggled for consciousness. She took several shallow breaths.
“Rafe?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
She took another breath. “It was my father. He called again and left a message on my phone. He’s trying to get Joel.”
Alarm shot through him. “What? Was this a dream?”
She shook her head and licked her lips as if they were dry from fear. “No. He’s always wanted Joel. I couldn’t let him have Joel. He would have destroyed him.”
“Nicole, are you sure of what you’re telling me? Is your father trying to take Joel away?”
She closed her eyes. “He always wanted Joel, but since I refused his support, he couldn’t take him. He’s always watching me, waiting for the day when I weaken or fail.”
Rafe swore under his breath. “And you’ve been living with this since Tabitha died?”
She nodded. “He called over a week ago. He wanted to come down to visit. I think the only thing that kept him away was some deal he was working with someone in Greece.”
Rafe narrowed his eyes. “Argyros,” he said.
She nodded. “That sounds right.” She opened her eyes. “He left a message on my phone today, telling me he insists on coming down for a visit. I can’t let him take Joel.”
“There’s a solution,” he said.
“What?”
“Marry me.”
Eleven
Nicole tried to keep up with her galloping heart. “How would that solve anything?”
Rafe shrugged. “Even with all your father’s money and influence, he wouldn’t stand a chance against you and me together,” he said, a tinge of bitterness sharpening his voice.
She met his gaze. “But how can I be sure?” she asked. “How can I be sure that you will be good to Joel?”
“How have you seen me act so far? What’s the evidence? If being devoted to my son were a crime, would I be convicted?” he asked.
His fervent response stabbed at her heart. He was right. Rafe may not have stepped into fatherhood shoes perfectly, but he’d done it with passion and gentleness. She couldn’t deny that truth. “Okay,” she said and knew she was about to take a huge leap. “How do we do this? When?”
“As soon as possible,” he said. “I’ll make the arrangements.”
On Monday morning, Rafe took Nicole to the county courthouse to obtain the marriage license. In exchange for the presentation of their photo IDs and eighty-six dollars and fifty cents, they were given a sixteen-page booklet, which pretty much provided a bounty of reasons why a man or woman would run screaming from the institution of marriage.
Rafe barely resisted the urge to snag the document from Nicole.
“This could be a huge mistake,” she said, flipping through the pages.
‘It’s full of worst-case scenarios,” he said, reaching over to cup her knee in reassurance. “You and I are intelligent adults. We share the same goal.”
“Division of assets,” she said. “Spousal abuse. I think I’m going to be sick.”
“I will never abuse you or Joel.” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “I can’t promise what I’ll do if your father even hints of threatening you or Joel, but I’ll keep you safe. I swear it.”
She took a deep breath. “Part of me believes you, but your size is intimidating.”
“Would you rather I be weak? Don’t tell me you find an out-of-shape guy more attractive?”
He caught her shooting him a sideways glance and a reluctant smile. “I didn’t say that. I just-” She broke off. “Your strength is both comforting and intimidating.”
“And a turn-on,” he said.
She sucked in a quick breath. “I didn’t say that.”
“But it is.”
“That could sound cocky,” she told him.
“But it doesn’t,” he said.
“Because it’s true.” She paused. “We haven’t discussed how this marriage is going to work. Do you expect monogamy?”
“Yes,” he said before she finished.
He felt her gaze on his face. “Better
be careful not to promise to do something you can’t,” she said.
Surprised at her comment, he pulled into a parking lot. “What are you saying? That I expect more from you than I’m willing to give of myself.”
She chewed on her lip, but continued to meet his gaze. “I grew up with a man who was wealthy and powerful. He felt that the reciprocal rules of monogamy didn’t apply to him. I also know that many women consider wealth and power an aphrodisiac. There’s a lot of temptation out there.”
He nodded, unable to keep his cynicism in check. “Are we talking about your father or about me?”
Her eyes flashed with a half dozen emotions. “There was a time when you wanted Tabitha. I’m not-and never will be her.”
Rafe lowered his head and took her mouth in a brief, but firm kiss. “Good.”
Over the next twenty-four hours, Nicole doubted herself and Rafe every other moment. Had she lost her mind?
When she calmed down enough to think it through, however, she believed in her heart that Rafe only wanted to do what was best for Joel. She could tell that he loved his son and was devoted to him.
Rafe’s relationship with her, however, was a different story. He might want her, but he wasn’t crazy for her. The reality hurt. It shouldn’t, but it did. She wanted him to love her like no other. Why? Because, despite her best efforts, she had fallen for him.
Heaven help her if he never gave his heart to her. She would spend an eternity wanting more than he could give. She could only hope that somewhere along the way, he would also fall for her.
The next day, she dressed for her so-called marriage. On a whim, she’d gone shopping while Joel had been in preschool. She’d found a cream-silk-colored, empire-waist tank dress that flirted with the tops of her knees. She’d purchased a cream, lace purse and wore the pearls her mother had given her when she’d turned eighteen.
