“I’m happy now.”
He entwines her hand with his. “Me too.”
After dinner, she snuggles against him in the limo, her head resting on his shoulder. Goosebumps freckle her arms and legs as he plays with her hair, twirling the long strands around his finger. Wonderfully relaxing, except for the fact she keeps imagining the feel of his hands other places.
“What would you like to do now?”
“I’m embarrassed to say it.”
He slides his finger under her chin, tipping up her head up to look at him. “Don’t be. Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”
“Well, they didn’t have any Bananas Foster…”
He bursts out laughing before pushing the button to lower the divider between them and the driver. “Jacks, can you please take us to that gelato place on Sunset?”
The chauffer raises his eyebrows as he looks at them in the rearview mirror. “Of course.”
Once the partition is back in place, he turns to her and winks. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever surprised him.”
The limo slows in front of the shop, the patio unexpectedly empty for a Saturday night. “Is this okay? I don’t want you to be inundated with fans.”
Giddiness tickles her stomach at his thoughtfulness. The real date is a perfect one too. “Yes, it’s good. Thank you.”
Inside the café, her finger trails over the glass display case, trying to decide. Choosing between salted caramel or mocha espresso is a good problem to have. He leans over and whispers in her ear, “You can pick two if you want.”
“You know me too well.” After she signs an autograph for their server, they sit at one of the open tables. “I have to admit your real date is a success, Mr. DeMarco. Between here and the restaurant, this is the best food I think I’ve ever eaten.”
“Well, Miss Armstrong, tonight’s the best night I know I’ve ever had.”
She winks before licking the last of the chocolate from her spoon. “I already said yes. You don’t have to keep trying to impress me with your slick lines.”
His brow furrows before he shakes his head. “Sweetness, you don’t know how much I mean it.”
Their usual light-hearted banter stalls at his unexpected vehemence to her teasing. She sets down her cup and grasps his hand with both of hers. His weak smile pierces her heart, hinting of hurt maybe he’s endured too. Another thing they have in common. “I think you’ve just moved from great to excellent.”
“I’m working toward outstanding.” He tosses his cone in the trash and wraps his jacket around her shoulders, gently tugging on the lapels, pressing her against him. “Where to now? There’s a cupcake place down the street if you need another fix.”
The playfulness of his voice gives her the courage to reveal her real desire. His eyes darken when she tells him, “Your house.”
Nick helps her out of the limo, and they walk hand in hand into the quiet foyer. Not sure if she’s happy or relieved no one else is home.
“Would you like a drink?”
“Yes, please.”
After rummaging through the wet bar, he pours wine for her and a whiskey for himself. Her hand shakes as she brings the glass to her mouth. He takes it from her and sits it on the table. Concern etched in his face, he rubs his palms up and down her arms. “Are you cold?”
“No.” Shivers of desire surge through her body. All night he’s been the perfect gentleman, never implying he wants anything other than a romantic dinner. Which makes her want him even more. Without giving herself time to change her mind, she leans forward and presses her mouth to his.
After the slightest pause, he kisses her back, parting her lips with his tongue. He delves inside, deepening the intensity as he cups her face. She moans and curls his shirt under her fingers, breathless with the need to pull him closer. Running his hands up her back and into her hair, he gently tips back her head, scorching her skin with urgent kisses under her ear and down her throat. Her fingers fumble with his shirt buttons, aching to feel his bare skin against her.
He stills. “Are you sure?”
She smiles at his whisper, and nods her head. In one quick movement, he stands up and pulls her against him, searching her face before they walk upstairs.
In the darkened bedroom, lit by a single lamp, he stops next to the bed. Stripping off his shirt, he throws it on the chair. His eyes never leave hers as he reaches behind her and slowly unzips her dress. She trembles as it drops to the floor, and she steps out of the pooled fabric. He reaches for her again, caressing the back of her head while he holds her. “Thank you for coming into my life.”
Overwhelmed by the reality of being in his bedroom, wearing only her bra and panties, she lets out a shaky breath, unable to find the right words to respond. He kisses the top of her head before stepping back. “Don’t move. I need to get something for you.”
Her heart pounds as he walks over to the dresser and picks up a T-shirt before coming back. “It’s kind of big, but why don’t you put this on?”
After pulling it over her head, she wraps her arms around herself. Humiliation heats her cheeks. He no longer wants her. “I don’t understand.”
Caressing her cheek, he smiles at her. “I think we should wait. I don’t want you to be scared. I want you to be excited. It’ll happen when the time is right.” He tugs the fabric between his fingers. “But will you still stay with me tonight?”
Even with her unintentional indecisiveness, his tenderness never wavers. After she nods, he draws back the white comforter on the platform bed. He climbs in next to her, wrapping his arm around her waist and laying his head on her shoulder.
“I don’t want to embarrass you, but you’re so nervous I need to know. Are you a virgin?”
She puts her arm on top of his, almost hugging herself more than him, comforting herself from being so wounded she can’t hide her fear. “No. I had a boyfriend in college. We were each other’s firsts.”
“What happened to him? Why did you break up?”
What can she say about the man who loved her, but her mother hated? Who wanted to give her a nice, quiet life as a doctor’s wife when she tired of the frantic pace of the music industry. Who her mom swore would leave her for some gold-digging nurse at the hospital. “Evan’s very sweet. A really good guy. The kind of man you could marry and be happy with for the rest of your life. But he and my mom didn’t get along.”
His body stiffens next to her, his arm tightening around her waist. “Why not?”
All three of them guilty. All of them making irrational decisions that hurt themselves and each other. Not realizing the effect on her until she met Nick. “She didn’t trust him, even though he never gave either of us any reason not to. She said he was just like every other man—if you gave him your heart, he would break it. I never could convince her he wasn’t like that.” She takes a deep breath, seeking to release her tension from the memories. “I tried to make it work. Eventually, I had to choose between them.”
“So, you would be with him now if it wasn’t for your mom?”
“I hadn’t thought about it like that, but yes, I guess so.” No more questions come. Unable to see his face in the darkness, she entwines her fingers in his, trying to make a connection with him again. “What about you? You’re a cute guy. You’ve probably had lots of women in your life.”
He laughs softly, his breath warming her shoulder through the thin fabric of the borrowed T-shirt. “Not as many as you seem to think.”
“What’s not too many?”
“I dated a few women in college. Nothing serious. There was a woman I was seeing a few years ago, but it wasn’t good. I seem to have a bad habit of dating women who have a lot of drama in their lives.” His hand grazes her cheek as he nuzzles her hair. “I think I’ve made a better choice this time.”
She smiles at the humor in his voice, responding to his returned playfulness. “Oh? I didn’t realize you were seeing someone.”
His fingers move to her ribs, making he
r squeal with laughter. “Always trying to be funny, aren’t you?”
They’re quiet for a few minutes. She traces his arm with her fingertips, wondering why he settles for cuddling with her when both of them want so much more, questioning how he can accept being with her like this when there are so many women willing to give him what he needs.
“Do you regret it?” His soft voice in her ear brings her back to him. “Do you wish you were still with Evan?”
Rolling toward him, she wraps her arm around his waist and whispers, “No, because then I wouldn’t be here with you.”
He turns away and sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
She reaches for him, the muscles in his arm pulsing under her fingertips. “Nick, wait! What’s wrong?”
Grasping her hand, he kisses her palm before pressing it to his chest and letting out a long breath. “When you say stuff like that, it makes it hard for me to hold back. I just need a minute to cool down.”
Her heart races as she curls up behind him and rests her cheek on his back. One word is all it would take to have him turn around and take her in his arms. Make love to her like she wants. Too scared to admit her true feelings, she closes her eyes, letting the tears escape. She’s a fool for ever thinking she could let herself be loved again.
He shifts around on the bed and cups her face. “Please don’t cry.”
She wraps her fingers around his. “You’re so patient with me. I don’t know why I can’t stop being afraid and be with you.”
“I want you.” He gazes at her through hooded eyes. “God, do I want you, but I’ll wait forever if I have to.”
Rubbing his thumbs across her cheeks, he wipes away the tears and kisses her gently. She lies down again with him curled behind her, his arm wrapped around her waist. Peace fills her body as she snuggles against him, welcoming his warmth and protectiveness.
As she drifts off, a faraway voice whispers in her ear, “I love you, Shae.”
Her eyes fly open. Familiar panic fills her chest. He may think he loves her, but she needs to protect her heart. Waiting for his breath to slow with sleep, she plans her escape.
* * * *
In the dim morning light, Nick squints, trying to make out the numbers on the clock. 8:02
He smiles to himself as his head falls back against the pillow. He never sleeps this late. Because he’s never had a woman like Shae lying next to him, warming his bed with something more than sex. Ignoring the throbbing of his groin from thinking about her delicate softness pressed against him, he reaches for her, but all his fingers caress is the cold sheet.
Sitting up, he scans across the sitting area, wet bar, and fireplace. The room is as empty as his bed. Her dress and shoes are gone. The improvised nightgown lies folded neatly on the bedside table. Bringing the T-shirt to his face, his heart constricts at the smell of her light, flowery scent.
He jumps out of bed and jogs down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Only silence greets him as he races through the foyer. “Shae?”
In the kitchen, Max looks up from pouring whey powder into the blender for a protein shake. “She left about three hours ago. Marta took her home.”
“Fucking shit!” Nick drives his hand through his hair at the realization she still doesn’t trust him, at the disappointment she’d rather sneak away than give him a chance. “Why the fuck didn’t you wake me up?”
Max chuckles and shakes his head. “Because she asked me not to.”
His head throbs from clenching his jaw so tightly. He spits out the words through gritted teeth, “Now you’re taking orders from her? Who the fuck do you work for?”
“Right now, I wish it was her, you stupid fuck.” Tossing the measuring cup back into the canister, Max rolls his neck before looking at him. “What the fuck did you expect me to do? I find a scared woman alone in the living room who’s freaking out and wants to leave. You really think it would be a good idea to force her to stay while I get your ass out of bed? I knew Marta would be going to six o’clock mass, so I asked her to take Shae home.”
The muscles contracting in his neck release. Max is right, and he’s a fucking dick. “Good move.”
“You’re welcome.”
Nick puts his fists to his eyes. “Why does she keep doing this? Why does she keep running from me?”
“I don’t know. But from what I’ve seen, she’s the kind of woman worth chasing. You need to find out what’s scaring her and fix it.”
“I’m trying, Max. I’m really fucking trying.”
Nick grabs his phone from the counter before heading into his office. His mind races as he drops into his desk chair. Last night was perfect. Never once did she seem anything but happy. A little timid in the bedroom. His groin tightens at the thought of her wearing only that silver bra and tiny panties. Well okay, maybe a lot timid. Unlike any of the other women he’s had in there. Different from any woman he’s ever known. Exactly why he wants her, no matter how long he has to wait for her to believe it.
He takes a deep breath and types on the screen.
Hi.
Her response is almost instantaneous.
Hi.
The taut muscles in his chest relax. She’s not completely gone, even if the connection is only through their phones.
Why did you leave?
I don’t know.
Neither does he. But, he sure as hell is going to do everything he can to make her stop running, to find a way for her to trust him.
I want to see you. Will you come back?
No answer.
Can I come over there?
Nothing. His fingers tap furiously, but pause as her text comes through.
Yes.
I’m on my way.
His breath catches as he pulls into her driveway. She stands in the doorway, wearing a pink and yellow sundress with straps so tiny they would snap if pulled too hard. With one hand behind the door and the other on the knob, she uses it almost as a shield, partially hiding herself. A shy smile crosses her face as he climbs out of the car.
Forcing himself not to run, he strides up the white, stone sidewalk. Unable to hold back once he reaches her, he sweeps her up, burying his face in her neck, breathing in a hint of her soft, flowery perfume. “What do I have to do to prove I love you and won’t hurt you?”
“Nothing.”
Her answer is a wisp of breath against his hair. If he didn’t have her pressed against him, he wouldn’t have heard it. The death grip she has on him, her arms coiled around his neck, and her legs squeezing his waist, tell him even more than her words she believes him. At least in this moment. “If you get scared or upset, tell me. Don’t run away.”
She nods, her deep breath tickling his neck. As relief washes over him, another sensation begins to build. Her sweet body clings to his, the cashmere skin of her bare shoulders sparkling in the sunlight, dress bunched up so he could easily slip his hands underneath. He swallows hard, trying to clear his throat and his mind. “What do we do now?”
Slowly sliding down his front, she looks up to him. Both her eyes and her smile sparkle with happiness. “Will you spend the day with me?”
He would take a bullet before he’d tell her no. “Here? With you? I guess so…”
She giggles at his teasing before her small, soft hand slides into his. “Come on. I’ll show you my favorite thing to do on a lazy Sunday.”
They walk through the house to a two-tiered wooden deck cloaked by thick walls of trees and bushes. On the lower level, a patio table with a red umbrella and four yellow and red stripped chairs sits near a silver grill. An enormous white hammock swings between two wooden posts a few feet in front of them. Three small stacks of books cover the table next to it. He nods towards them. “Are those yours?”
“Most of them. Carrie has a few, but she doesn’t really like to read.”
He reaches over and picks up one with a half-naked man on the cover. “Are you reading this?”
Her bubbly laughter as she sh
akes her head eliminates his remaining tension. “No, it’s Carrie’s. She likes the naughty ones.”
He flips to the bookmarked page and begins to read aloud. “‘I’m going to take you now. I’m going to take you hard and fast until you scream my name. When you scream my name, then I’ll know you’re mine. All mine. You belong to me.’” He raises his eyebrows. “This explains a lot.”
Pink tinges her face as she plucks the book out of his hand and tosses it back on the table. “Come on, let’s find something better.”
She picks up The Winter of Our Discontent and hands it to him. They lay cuddled together in the fabric sling as he reads the first few chapters aloud, his fingers stroking across her cheek and into her silky hair. Her even breathing and soft body confirm she’s relaxed too. A quiet easiness between them he never knew he craved until she created it for him. He stops and smiles at her attempt to muffle a yawn. “Am I boring you?”
“Sorry! No, my…boyfriend kept me up late last night. I’m a little bit sleepy.”
His heart skips a beat at the message she sends with her choice of words. “Well, he must be a real ass keeping you from your beauty sleep.”
She lifts her head and looks at him. An emotion he hopes is love swirls in her deep blue eyes as her chin rests on his chest. “Absolutely not. He’s perfect.”
Rising up on his elbow, he kisses her lips. “I could go for a nap too, but you have to promise me you’ll be here when I wake up.”
“I promise.”
With her curled next to him, he closes his eyes and lets himself go, allowing the thought of her always being with him to float into his mind. She fits perfectly in his arms and in his life, sealing his fate from the moment he watched the first graceful curve of her hands across her body.
An hour later, the buzzing of his phone interrupts their slumber. Fishing it out of his pocket, his stomach tightens at the number scrolling across the screen before he puts it to his ear. “Give me two minutes.”
Wine and Whiskey (Surviving Absolution #1) Page 8
