by Leanne Banks
"What did she say?"
"I really don't want to talk about it."
Nick's stomach knotted. He could tell Kendra had in fact found a way to hurt Olivia. "Then what was your last statement?"
She still didn't look at him. "Do we need to keep talking about this?"
"If your remark was about me, isn't it fair that I know what it was?"
She gave a heavy sigh. "I said I might not know much, but at least I'm not stupid enough to call Nick Nolan an ambulance chaser when it's obvious that he is so much more."
Her words sank beneath his skin, to his bones, to the very heart of him. His chest tightened and he pulled her against him. "Oh, Olivia, she's not one-tenth the woman you are."
She finally met his gaze. "You don't have to say that to make me feel better."
"I'm not," Nick told her. "I'm saying it because it's true."
The vulnerability in her eyes kicked out the cornerstone of his restraint and he did what he'd been wanting to do too much lately. He took her mouth, and a little taste only made him want more. He rolled his tongue over hers. She molded herself to him as if she couldn't get close enough. She kissed him as if she wanted to consume and be consumed.
The restless edgy need for her that he'd buried inside himself threatened to explode. He slid his hands over her bottom, curling her into his hardness, and she instinctively meshed with him, moving sinuously.
In her mouth, he tasted her struggle, the barest hint of reservation and wild voluptuous desire. Filled with an overwhelming urge to possess her, he wanted to make the reservation disappear. He wanted to be inside her. He wanted her inside him. Maybe then, his gnawing need would be eased.
He slipped his hands underneath her dress to touch her thighs and rubbed his mouth over the softness of her throat.
"Nick—" she whispered in a breathless voice of both uncertainty and invitation.
He felt the rapid pounding of her pulse against his cheek as he slid the loose collar of her dress lower and lower until one full breast was bared. He stared at her, aroused by the sight of her erect, dusky-rose nipple.
As he lowered his head, he could feel her holding her breath, waiting for him. He took her nipple into his mouth and she moaned. Her fingers slid beneath his hair, urging him on.
The sensation of her in his mouth made him crazy. Pushing her stockings down her thighs, he sought her feminine secrets with his hand. Inside the silk of her panties, he found her wet and warm. It was all too easy to imagine plunging himself inside her. He stroked the swollen bead of her pleasure until she began to pant.
"Nick," she said. "This is crazy."
"It is. Do you want me to stop?" he asked, caressing the tender spot.
She gasped and closed her eyes. "No."
"I need more, Olivia," he said, and plunged his finger inside her.
She clenched and clung to him, shivering. "I—I need to be with you," she breathed, her eyes dark with desire.
"I want inside you as deep as I can get."
She wanted the same thing. He could see it on her face. Holding his gaze, she lowered her hands to his hard, aching masculinity. Sliding his zipper down, she cupped and stroked him.
It was an exquisitely sensual sight. Olivia with her gaze traveling to his bare erection. She rubbed her thumb back and forth in increments over the tip of him until a drop of arousal formed.
The sensation was so incredible he couldn't hold back a moan. Then, she lifted her thumb to her tongue to taste him. Nick nearly lost it.
Taking her mouth, he tasted himself on her while she slid her hand back around him and pumped. It was too much, he'd wanted her too long, denied himself too often. With her silken tongue sucking him gently into her mouth, she pushed him over the edge, and he spilled his pleasure into her hand.
Swearing, he wrapped his arms around her tightly. He waited for the aftereffects of sweet release. He waited to feel like he wanted her less. He waited, but he still wanted her. "I have to have you, Olivia. I have to make love to you tonight." He gazed into her eyes. She looked as needy as he still felt. "Say yes," he told her.
"Yes," she whispered.
* * *
During the drive home, Olivia kept wondering when her sanity would kick in. The cold December night should have cleared her head, but Nick had kept her warm by kissing her as he helped her into his car. Reason should have trickled in with the passing of time, but at the stoplights, he murmured sensual promises and stroked her swollen breasts through the velvet of her dress.
Where was her rational resolve? she wondered as she felt herself consumed by her need to be with him. There was a peculiar whisper of destiny to her making love with Nick, but Olivia pushed it aside for the louder voice of her desire and his. Her feelings for Nick were too complicated for her to comprehend, let alone name. Desire was easier to understand than destiny, easier to control than all the other things she felt. By the time they arrived at his house, however, she was ready to rip off her clothes and his.
They climbed the stairs in spurts broken by kisses and discarded clothing. "This isn't wise," she told him as they stood in front of each other naked in the darkness of his room. It wasn't wise, yet she was unable to keep her hands from his bare shoulders and back, unable to stop from rubbing her breasts against his hard chest.
"Not wise," he agreed, his gaze full of such intense desire that it took her breath. "But necessary." He picked her up and carried her to his bed.
The coverlet was cool to her back, but Nick's eyes and hands were warm. "Since you've been in my house, you've been an itch that won't go away."
Olivia felt a sliver of sensual apprehension. His wide shoulders blocked the light from the hallway and he was fully aroused. His power and strength moved her again. She sensed this would be no easy taking. "Itching?" She swallowed. "Are you sure that doesn't mean you're allergic to me?"
He gave a sexy, rough chuckle and followed her down onto the bed. "If I am, it'll mean you're responsible for another trip to the emergency room." He skimmed his hand possessively down her hip to her thigh. "Later," he added, and took her mouth and made her head spin.
He kissed her and caressed her with a passion that never abated. He left no part of her body untouched. His fingers made love to her skin, her nipples, her thighs. He made her wet and eager and scared at the same time. She wanted everything.
She couldn't hold back a moan as he slid between her thighs and took her with his mouth. Intimate kisses that sent her spiraling and crashing. He held her tightly when she cried out. He brought her a pleasure she'd never known. It was his combination of ruthless tenderness, however, that scored her heart.
He gently pressed his finger against her birthmark on her forehead, then leaned forward to press his mouth against the same spot. "I always liked this about you," he said.
Her heart still hammering, she searched his face. "Why?" she asked, thinking the way he'd touched her birthmark had felt as intimate as everything else he'd done to her tonight.
"You'll laugh," he said, lowering his mouth to hers.
Olivia felt his hardness against her inner thigh, the urgency in his kiss, and she was almost distracted. She turned her head to the side breathlessly. "Tell me."
He groaned against her neck, then with a resigned sigh, rolled back. He grabbed protection from the bedside table, put it on and finally met her gaze. "I thought a fairy kissed you before you were born and left a mark so everyone would know you were special."
She gaped at him in surprise. She would never have dreamed Nick would think such a thing, not even as a kid.
"Satisfied?" he demanded.
She nodded, still speechless, moved. Of all the explanations she'd been given for her birthmark, his was the most magical. Although she'd grown used to it, she'd always considered it a flaw.
"Good," he said, fresh arousal making his smile fade. "Then it's my turn." His gaze intent, he thrust inside her, and she gasped. "Too hard?" he asked, his jaw clenching with restraint.
&nb
sp; She shook her head as she felt her body stretch to accommodate his sensual invasion. "No, you're just—" She wriggled and he grabbed her hips to still her.
"I'm just what?" he asked.
"Bigger than I expected," she said, closing her eyes and moving yet again.
Nick shuddered. "Oh, Olivia, I'm not going to last."
She opened her eyes. "You already have."
Nick shuddered again and began to slide in and out of her in a rhythm that threatened to take her mind.
The edges of the room blurred and there was only Nick above her and inside her. Only Nick. Again and again, he buried himself deeply inside her. With each stroke, she felt more taken. With each thrust, she felt her heart begin to slip.
Then he arched and his body rippled with release. As she held him while he shattered, she felt shattered, too. It struck her that even in that moment of vulnerability, he seemed so strong.
The silence in the room might as well have been as deafening as the thunder rolling inside her. Olivia began to tremble. She clung to him, wanting to hold on to the moment as long as possible. She didn't understand why everything still looked blurry until she felt a tear slide from her eye down her temple. Olivia had long accepted that she was an emotional person, but she wished for a thread of control at the moment.
Quickly batting her eyes to dry them, she took a long, slow breath. Nick's earlier words, however, twisted her heart. "Did you really think I was special when we were kids?" she whispered, almost hoping he would say no. His tenderness made her susceptible to him in ways she didn't know how to fight.
Nick lifted his face from the hollow of her shoulder and looked at her. "No. I knew it." He flicked his finger over her birthmark. "And I know it now."
* * *
Olivia squinted at the bright morning sunlight and quickly covered her eyes with her hand. She was aware of too many muscles and nerve endings in her body, a few she hadn't known existed.
He'd allowed her little sleep. Every time he'd made love to her, she'd been reminded of his strength, and with no darkness to hide her now, Olivia felt the edge of fear slip in. If she wasn't careful, she could lose her heart to him.
Turning her head, she slowly lowered her hand from her eyes and looked at Nick. She found no softness at the sight of him. His hair was slightly mussed from her fingers and his firm jaw roughened by a morning beard. His body was hard and muscular, too, as she intimately knew.
Even in sleep, he emanated power.
Olivia's stomach dipped, and she fought with uneasiness. He was too strong, too confident, too everything for her. His personality was so forceful she sensed he could swallow her up. She could get lost in him, and Olivia didn't want that. She'd known he was an innately strong and powerful man. Making love with him had reinforced the message a hundredfold. She must have been out of her mind to go to bed with him.
Suddenly his eyes slid slightly open and his hand reached out to snag hers. "Stop thinking," he said, pulling her hand to his mouth.
Olivia's heart bolted, and she stared at him. "How did you know—"
"I could hear you," Nick said in a wry voice, still moving his mouth over her hand. "You were thinking that last night has changed everything between us."
Last night had changed everything, but… She shook her head. "Actually, I was thinking maybe it's my turn for a trip to the emergency room."
He glanced at her in an assessing way that made her extremely aware of her nudity. "You look fine to me. Why the emergency room?"
She surreptitiously pulled the sheet up over her breasts and tried to retrieve her hand, but he held fast. "I was wondering if I might need a mental health professional."
"You're not saying you regret spending the night with me, are you?"
The possessive look in his light eyes made her heart race. "I, uh, I wasn't thinking of the word regret," she hedged.
When he kissed the inside of her wrist, alarm bells went off.
"Would you please give me back my hand?"
He nodded, then moved closer to her and touched her birthmark. "If you weren't thinking of regret, then what were you thinking?"
Olivia felt vulnerable and confused. She swallowed over a knot of emotion in her throat. "More like crazy," she whispered. "Very crazy."
He lowered his head, and she felt his lips on her forehead. Her heart squeezed tight.
"You can stay in my room," he told her.
Panic raced through her and she scrambled away from him, partly unwrapping the sheet that covered her. "That would be crazy, too!"
He narrowed his eyes. "So you think last night was a one-night stand," he said.
"Yes," she replied certainly, when she felt anything but. "Wasn't it?"
He held her gaze for a long moment, and she felt that strange sense of fate echoing inside her again. "It was a one-night stand," she said, trying to sound firm.
* * *
Chapter 9
« ^ »
Nick saw the alarm in Olivia's eyes and quickly rose from the bed to stand in front of her. She looked ready to bolt. He didn't want her to leave. If Nick believed in magic, he would say he and Olivia had made magic again and again last night. "You were incredible."
He watched her swallow. "No, I wasn't," she said, her voice wavering with nerves. "I wasn't incredible. I was just … you were just…" She took a deep breath. "We were just kinda worked up."
"'Kinda worked up,'" he repeated, and couldn't quite swallow his chuckle. "Olivia, that's like comparing a neutron bomb to a sparkler."
She jerked the sheet upward another inch. "Okay, we were very worked up, but that doesn't mean we should get worked up again."
"Do you really think one night is going to take care of what's between us?"
"Yes," she said.
Nick stepped closer. "I make a career of reading people sweetheart, and you're lying."
Olivia took two steps backward. "I don't think we should do this again."
"We can't go back after last night," he said.
Dragging the sheet, she hustled out of his room. "Yes, we can. I'll just go back to the guest room."
He followed her down the hall. "Olivia, this is crazy. We—"
"I agree! It's crazy and it needs to stop." She scooted into her room and used her door as a barricade. She peeked out of a three-inch space. "You were wonderful. Too wonderful," she said, her eyes welling with unshed tears.
His chest tightened at the raw emotion that vibrated from her.
"You don't want to be involved with me. I don't want to be involved with you. You don't love me, and I don't love you," she said with a slight wince. "I told you I had turned the switches to my heart and hormones off." She bit her trembling lip. "Stop messing with my switches."
* * *
He stopped messing with her switches.
Olivia told herself she was relieved. She needed to get back on track, to fortify her heart and focus on her studies. While Nick worked long hours on a case, she prepared for final exams. In quiet moments late at night, however, she struggled to banish the memory of how she had felt in his arms. She couldn't escape the feeling that she had belonged there.
After spending the better part of Wednesday cooped up in her room studying, she fixed a cup of tea in the kitchen. Nick burst through the front door, instantly dissolving the soothing effects of her first few sips.
"I won," he said, his broad grin contagious. He stepped around her shoes and continued toward the kitchen.
"Congratulations!" she said, feeling a rush of pleasure at his obvious exhilaration. She hesitated a couple of seconds, but stopping herself from hugging him seemed wrong. Wrapping her arms around him, she immediately felt the sizzle flare between them, so she pulled back and reached for the cup of tea she'd left on the table. "You're not surprised, are you?"
Nick held her gaze for a long moment, looking at her as if he knew all her secrets, as if he knew she fell asleep every night thinking of him. Olivia glanced down into her cup.
"
I knew I would win. It just took longer than I wanted. Three years," he told her, loosening his tie and heading for the refrigerator. He grabbed a can of beer and popped it open.
"Three years," Olivia said. "I thought you were known for your speed."
"I am, and three years wasn't bad. Under normal conditions, it could have taken five years. This was a big case. The settlement involved a lot of zeroes."
"Five years," Olivia echoed, making a face. "Gosh, that's longer than it will take me to get my degree. I don't see how you stand it."
He shrugged. "I do more than one case at a time and keep my eye on the finish line." He took a long swallow of beer and gave her a considering glance. "Sometimes after I cross the finish line, I celebrate with dinner. You game?"
The light challenge in his eyes made her chest tighten. She wanted to go. No, she didn't, she corrected herself. "I, uh, can't," she said. "I really can't," she added when his gaze turned skeptical. "I have a Western Civilization final tomorrow."
He paused and cocked his head to one side. "Rain check?"
She felt her chest tighten again. "If you like," she murmured.
"I would," he said. "In the meantime, where and when were the first European civilizations developed?"
Olivia blinked. How had he switched gears so quickly? She cleared her throat. "On Crete and other islands in the Aegean Sea around 3000 B.C."
"The idea of democracy spread—"
"During 400 and 300 B.C. in Greece," she said, feeling an odd rush of adrenaline at his pop quiz. "What are you—"
"But then a hotdog from Macedonia took over," Nick said.
"Alexander the Great," she said, shaking her head. "How in the world do you remember all this?"
"I had a minor in history," he said. "Want an A?" he asked. "Stick with me."
For the rest of the evening, she did. While they munched on sandwiches and snacks, Nick grilled her mercilessly on everything from the Roman Empire through the Middle Ages to the Renaissance. He made studying a crazy, playful duel that bolstered her confidence. By the end of the evening, he was throwing grapes at her for every correct answer she gave.
