by Leanne Banks
"Stop! I can't eat any more," she said, laughing.
"Full of the fruit of knowledge," he said.
"Full of grapes," she corrected.
A moment of silence stretched between them, and Olivia's emotions began to tumble through her. Before, the quiz had kept her feelings at bay. Now she realized she felt seduced by Nick all over again. She had begun the evening afraid of what she didn't know for the exam. Now she felt confident because of all she did know.
How had he done that? she wondered. How had he given her such a gift? And why? He could have had just about any woman joining him tonight as he celebrated his victory. Instead he'd stayed home with Olivia and helped her prepare for her exam.
Olivia took in the sight of his unbuttoned white dress shirt and ruffled hair. He hadn't even changed out of his work clothes. He cared for her. Butterflies danced in her stomach. "Thank you," she finally said.
He munched a grape, then swallowed. "For torturing you?"
She smiled and walked around the table toward him. "You do it very well. Torture," she stressed.
His lips twitched slightly, but there were layers of darker emotions flickering in his eyes. "It's completely reciprocal."
He circled her wrist with his thumb and forefinger and, holding her gaze with his, he tugged her closer. It was so natural to lower her head and press her mouth to his that it was scary.
He sipped at her lips, sucking gently, exploring her with his tongue. She felt his kiss all the way to her toes. He wanted her. Her nipples grew stiff although he only touched her mouth and wrist. Her skin turned hot. When he slid his tongue in and out of her lips, she remembered another more intimate joining, and she felt warm and swollen between her thighs.
He must have sensed her arousal. She sensed his. Yet he pulled back and looked at her for a long moment. "Get some rest, Olivia. You're going to ace the exam."
Olivia took a slow, deliberate mind-clearing breath. "Thanks," she said, backing carefully away. "G'night."
As she climbed the stairs, she knew she owed him yet another thank-you. Two more seconds of his mouth on hers and all memory of western civilization would have been wiped out.
* * *
Nick opened the front door and immediately caught the spicy-sweet scent of Chinese food. Olivia bounded toward him, her dark hair flying behind her, her dark eyes shooting sparks of joy. "How'd it—"
She threw her arms around him. "I did it! I did it! I didn't just pass that exam. I conquered it!" She bounced up and down on the hardwood floor of his foyer. "I was awesome!"
Her exuberance spilled into him, making his chest fill with pride. He chuckled. "I bet you were awesome, Miss Olivia. Did you put out so much heat they had to call the fire department again?" he teased.
Olivia gave him a playful thump on the arm. "No, but I did great. And you're partly responsible."
"No." Nick shook his head. "You—"
"Yes, you are. Stop arguing. You do that all day," she told him, pulling him toward the kitchen. "I didn't have time to fix a real meal, so I picked up some Chinese and a bottle of domestic champagne. It's not much," she said, "but thanks."
Nick looked into her eyes and felt the kick of wanting all the way down to his stomach. Olivia was right. He should stop messing with her switches. She was too emotional, too unconventional, too vulnerable. The only problem was now that he'd had her, he didn't want her less. He wanted her more.
"It was my pleasure," he said, and joined her at the table.
They shared cashew shrimp, chicken lo mein, and rice. Nick couldn't tell if Olivia was giddy from her success or the two glasses of champagne she'd sipped. He only knew he couldn't take his eyes off of her.
After they read obscure messages from their fortune cookies, she insisted on refilling his glass and ended up spilling some of the liquid on his shirt. She gasped, looking instantly contrite. "I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," he said, unbuttoning the cuffs. "The shirt's cotton and was headed for the dry cleaner tomorrow anyway."
"That's good. I'm sorry," she repeated with twitching lips, "but if you hadn't moved your glass, I wouldn't have spilled it."
He did a double take at the gentle reproof in her voice. She was blaming him for her spill. Chuckling, he stood. "Is that so?" he asked, putting his hands around hers on the bottle and tilting it toward her chest.
Olivia gasped again, this time, when the cool liquid seeped through her shirt to her skin. She gaped at him in disbelief. "You dumped champagne on me!"
He chuckled. "I didn't dump it," he corrected her. "I spilled a little." Following a wicked impulse, he pulled the bottle from her and poured more on her. "That's dumping."
Her eyes widening again, she pushed at him. "I don't believe this. You're so neat and controlled and perfect, and you're making a mess!"
He put down the champagne bottle, silently agreeing with her assertion. He'd studiously avoided messes. Maybe that wasn't such a good thing. Still chuckling, he unbuttoned his shirt. "I'd forgotten how much fun getting into a mess could be. Here," he said, reaching for her. "Let me help."
"Help!" she howled. "After you dumped it on me."
He pulled her, squirming and slightly damp, into his arms. "I just want to help you out of your wet blouse."
"And what else?" she asked in a dark voice, but she didn't move away.
His chest grew tight with the need to be with her, and his urge to chuckle faded. "Everything else," he said, lifting his hand to touch her cheek. "You know I want you."
A flash of need flared in her eyes before she squished them shut. She covered his hand with her own. "I thought you were going to stop messing with my switches," she whispered.
"I did," he said. "It didn't work."
She sighed, then opened her eyes and met his gaze. "What am I going to do with you?"
"I have suggestions," Nick said, lowering his mouth to hers. "But I'd like to start with you."
"Damn you," she said, then kissed him.
Her mouth was soft and sweet and hot. It all added up to a passion that fired in his belly like dynamite. Nick was accustomed to control, but Olivia not only made him lose it, she made him like losing it. He shoved the boxes to the side of the table, unfastened her blouse and bra, and gently pushed her back against the kitchen table.
He dragged his mouth down her chest and slid his tongue over her breasts, tasting the heady combination of her skin and champagne. He took her nipple into his mouth and gently suckled it. She rippled beneath him and tugged at his slacks while he pushed her jeans down.
Nick wanted everything at once. He wanted to take her with his hands and mouth and body. He wanted inside her. Slow down, he told himself, sucking in a shallow breath of air. He grabbed the champagne bottle and poured a little on her belly.
She gasped, digging her fingers into his biceps. "What are—"
He watched the liquid slide down her abdomen and disappear into the mound between her legs. "Hold on," he told her, and followed the tiny drops all the way down with his tongue. He wanted every intimacy with her a man could share with a woman. He wanted to get as close as he possibly could get to her. He tasted her velvet soft femininity, stroking her and feeling her grow swollen beneath his tongue and lips. With each little sensual movement of her body, he grew harder and more needy. She slid her fingers through his hair and cried out in pleasure.
The taste and sound of her was so addictive he didn't want to stop. Over and over again, he took her with his mouth and pushed her over the top.
"Stop!" she finally begged in a husky voice. "I can't—" She shook her head helplessly. "I want—" Her dark eyes asked for everything her words couldn't. She skimmed her hand over him and Nick was again consumed with the primitive need to make her his.
He slid on protection, and thrust inside her. She squeezed his hardness with her silken femininity, and Nick followed her to a place where every sight and sensation centered around Olivia. Control spiraled away from him, and in the middle of his need to posses
s her, he wondered if she was possessing him.
* * *
The following morning Nick's alarm clock rudely awakened Olivia and him. He slapped the snooze button and reached for her as she moved for the side of the bed. "Oh, no, you don't," he muttered, pulling her against him. "I think I'll go in late today."
She chuckled, wiggling in his arms. "I bet you've never been late a day in your life."
Irritated that she was correct, he narrowed his eyes at her. "What makes you sure?"
"Because you are a superior man," she said, her gaze teasing and unwittingly tempting. "You wouldn't lower yourself to exhibit such a mediocre lapse."
"Superior, huh?" he said.
She pushed against his chest. "Yes, but you don't need me to tell you that. To tell you the truth, I've wondered how hard it must be for you to carry such a big head all the time. How do you do it?" she asked, batting her eyes innocently.
"Are you always cranky in the mornings? Or is it just because I'm going to leave soon and you won't be able to abuse my tender body and spirit until I get home again?"
Olivia thumped his arm, buried her head in his chest, and groaned.
He enjoyed the vibrating sensation of her mouth on his skin. "No reply? You're taking the Fifth already?"
"I'm not going to argue with a man who does it for a living."
He raised his eyebrows. "It hasn't stopped you before. I think," he said, "I'm going to see how the other half lives and go in late today. Being human might not be so bad, after all."
She glanced up at him warily. "A first?"
"I never had a good reason before," he told her, anticipating the way her eyes widened slightly with nervousness. With what he had planned for her, Nick was pretty sure her nervousness was going to get worse before it got better. It was fair, he told himself, considering the fact that she had him twisted inside out. Toying with the strap of her flimsy pink sleeping gown, he smiled as he remembered pulling it from a drawerful of flannel nightshirts last night when she had insisted on wearing something to bed. "I got something for you," he said, and made sure his tone was casual.
"What?" she asked, all curiosity.
He shrugged and pulled them both into a sitting position. "Something I wanted you to have."
"That sounds vague," she said.
"Close your eyes," he commanded.
"I want to—"
"I thought you weren't going to argue with me." He gently covered her eyes with his hand and reached inside the bedside drawer for the small velvet box. Pushing back a sliver of concern that she might reject his gift, he pulled the ruby and diamond ring from the box. He felt her pry his fingers apart.
She gasped. "It's a ring!"
He grinned at the mixture of bewilderment and delight in her voice. "Yes, it is."
"It's beautiful," she said in awe. "Rubies and diamonds. Heavens, Nick, it's beautiful!" She gingerly touched it, then immediately pulled her hand back as if she'd burned it. "You can't…" she began, shaking her head. "I can't … we—"
"Can," he corrected, trying to quell her panic before it got out of control. "I can and I did. It's just a ring, Olivia," he said, downplaying what it meant because he wanted her to keep it.
"Just a ring," she echoed, and blew her bangs off her forehead in disgust. "You didn't get this out of a bubblegum machine."
"It's not an engagement ring," he assured her. "But when people ask to see your ring, you can show it to them."
She looked at him with serious eyes. "Nick, we're not going to be engaged much longer. My thirty days is almost over."
Nick refused to acknowledge the way his gut twisted at her words. "I know. That's why I said it's not an engagement ring."
She shook her head in disbelief. "Then what is it?"
He paused. She'd taken him off guard. A rare event for him. He'd known getting her to accept the ring would require some heavy-duty selling on his part, but he hadn't thought this far into the conversation. Any other woman would have had it on her finger already, he grumbled to himself. "The ring is a gift, dammit. No strings attached. I want you to wear it all the time," be told her. "Even after we're not engaged any more."
"But—"
"But nothing," he said, his frustration growing. "This is a friendship ring. It makes perfect sense," he said. The rubies and diamonds, which reminded him of her fire and sparkle, seemed to mock him. "I sure as hell have never had a friend like you, Olivia, and I never will again. If I want to give you the freakin' Hope Diamond, it's my prerogative. There's no law against it. Now will you stop arguing and put the damn ring on your finger?"
Olivia blinked at him, then shook her head and smiled. She slid the ring on her finger. "You almost had me going for a minute, Nick. I could've gotten the crazy idea that this was some kind of romantic gesture. But you brought me back to reality when you started fussing." She shifted to meet his gaze and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you, Nick," she said softly. "I want to be your friend forever."
Nick tightened the embrace. She wore the ring and was in his arms, but he wanted more.
* * *
Chapter 10
« ^ »
Friendship ring.
After Nick left, Olivia couldn't sit still the rest of the morning. She didn't want to be alone with her doubts rolling around in her brain like a hundred Ping-Pong balls.
Rattled by the thoughts she didn't want to be thinking and feelings she absolutely shouldn't be feeling, Olivia resolved to keep herself busy the rest of the day. With her exams complete, all she could do now was wait for her grades. Lissa Roberts had been weighing heavily on her mind, so Olivia called the teen and invited her for shopping or a movie.
Lissa accepted, and Olivia followed directions to her house. As Olivia pulled into the Roberts's driveway, the sight of the ring on her finger distracted her. It was an exquisite piece of jewelry, and every time she thought about the fact that Nick had selected it for her, her stomach felt as if she were headed down the up elevator.
Friendship ring? Yes, they were friends. But they were also lovers. Olivia drummed her fingers on the steering column. Heaven help her, how had this gotten so complicated? What was going to happen to her heart when her thirty days was done?
A sharp sliver of fear cut at her and she closed her eyes to fortify herself. She was a survivor, she told herself. She had survived many things. She would survive this, too.
"Besides," she muttered as she got out of the car, "I'm not in love with Nick."
She slammed the car door loudly to silence the loud protest of her conscience. Lissa burst out the front door and ran toward the car like a bird that had been freed.
Lissa wore dark glasses and a hat, but the sight of the smile of the teen's face made Olivia's heart lighten. "Did you decide on a movie or shopping?" Olivia asked, waving at Lissa's mother.
"Both," Lissa said. "I went to a movie last week, and it was dark and great. No one even noticed me. I also want to buy some Christmas presents for my family."
The two of them got into the car. Olivia turned to look at Lissa. "Is it my imagination or do your scars look better?"
Lissa beamed. "I'm wearing makeup that covers the red, but the doctor said the scars may not be as deep as he'd thought. I'll always have some scars, but not as many and probably not as bad. It's just going to take forever for them to heal."
"Forever?" Olivia asked.
"Until I graduate from high school."
Olivia made a face. "I bet that does feel like forever. Have you let any of your friends visit you?"
Lissa nodded. "Last week, my best friend before the accident came over, I was nervous and she asked a lot of questions, but she acted glad to see me. She's trying to talk me into going back to school."
"Are you thinking about it?"
Lissa shook her head. "No way. I can't stand it when people stare at me."
Nodding slowly, Olivia started the car and headed toward the mall. Recovery was taking time, she thought, but there were signs of "li
fe" in Lissa Land.
She took Lissa shopping first because the mall was less busy in the morning. They grabbed a quick bite to eat, then watched an early afternoon movie. Afterward, Olivia found a table in the corner of the food court while they ate ice cream.
Lissa looked longingly at a group of teenage girls laughing as they walked through the mall. "I used to do that with my friends," Lissa said.
"You will again," Olivia said. "You need time for your heart and your face to heal."
"My mom wants me to see a therapist, but I don't want to talk about the accident. And I don't want anyone feeling sorry for me," Lissa said in a heated tone.
"You've been through a lot of trauma," Olivia said. "Your mom wants you to get better."
"I don't need a therapist."
"You might not," Olivia conceded, avoiding a head-on confrontation about an obviously sensitive subject. "Then again, you might just try it a couple of times." She smiled. "Kinda like going to a manicurist."
Lissa paused as if she were considering Olivia's perspective. She took another bite of her ice cream. "One thing I know for sure, I'll never get asked out by a guy again."
Olivia heard Lissa's need for hope in her fatalistic tone. "Of course you will. You'll date a few jerks, then you'll find a guy who loves your strawberry hair, your eyes, and your smile. And more importantly, he'll love you for surviving your scars."
"Is that the way Mr. Nolan is with you? Does he love you the way you always wanted to be loved?"
Olivia bit her lip. She felt like a fraud. Especially at this moment, she wanted to be authentic with Lissa. "He doesn't look at appearances only," she said, feeling honest, at least, in her statement. "That's part of the reason he's so special."
"You're lucky," Lissa said.
Olivia's smile felt strained. She didn't feel particularly lucky at the moment. She had to remind herself that she was indeed lucky to have Nick as a friend.
"Do you think you'll have babies as soon as you get married?"
Olivia's heart missed a beat. "Excuse me? Babies?" The image of her carrying Nick's baby made it difficult for her to breathe. "I won't have babies until I finish college."
