by Cari Quinn
“Oh, who ascertained that?” Nick demanded. “You?”
Lila clearly hadn’t been told a damn thing. He’d known Donovan’s admin hated him and hadn’t properly relayed the message he was there. Telling Donovan wasn’t even close to the same thing.
When Lila started to urge him back out the door, Nick nudged her out of the way and wedged into the doorway, his gaze alighting on her boss.
Now Nick understood why he hadn’t risen. The asshole’s shirt was open, his tie hanging loosely off his collar. Six-pack—hell, forget six, try eighteen-pack—abs on full display.
Nick glanced back and forth from Donovan to his wife. “What the hell is going on?”
Lila rolled her eyes. Actually rolled them and set Nick’s temper from broiling to full steam. “We’re having a meeting, Nicholas. He spilled coffee on his shirt. That’s all.”
Nick cocked his head. “You got pants on under that desk, Lewis?”
One dark eyebrow of Donovan’s winged up. “You play the role of jealous husband quite well, Crandall.”
Nick snorted. “I am not jealous. You know why?” Lila’s hand came out to restrain Nick as he moved forward, but it was like trying to hold back a gust of wind with a couple of fingers. “If you ever so much as thought about touching my wife, I’d make you lose that upper crust accent so fast, your pretty little head would spin.”
“Nicholas,” Lila gasped, but it was Donovan’s reaction that intrigued Nick far more.
He simply nodded and rose, gesturing to the finely tailored gray jacket folded on the back of his chair. A stain was visible on the left sleeve and on the open panels of Donovan’s formerly crisp white shirt.
Nick swallowed and gripped the back of his neck. He hadn’t truly believed that Lila would cheat, but Jesus, would he ever be able to keep a leash on that hair-trigger temper of his when it came to other men even looking at her?
No. No, he would not. Because to him, she was everything, and he couldn’t imagine another man being in her sphere without wanting her. It was truly incomprehensible.
“I can’t believe you.” Lila glared at Nick but he simply shrugged. “Never mind the apology you owe me, you owe Donovan one as well.”
Donovan held up a hand when Nick opened his mouth to toss back a reply. “He’s understandably protective of you. No man who is being honest could blame him.”
Nick jutted his chin at Lila, though he wasn’t nearly as smug as he probably seemed. Hearing a guy like Donovan acknowledge that Nick was right to flip his wig didn’t exactly set his mind at ease. He would’ve preferred it if Donovan acted as if he was an irrational lunatic.
Lila didn’t appear to hear Donovan. Her focus was solely on Nick. “We need to talk.”
Nick held up his hands, palms out. “By all means.”
“Here, feel free to use this space. It’s getting late. We’ll discuss more about the addition of Sabrina tomorrow.” Donovan picked up his soiled jacket and hung it jauntily over his shoulder as he moved to the door.
“Donovan, no,” Lila protested. “We won’t drive you out of your own office—”
“You aren’t driving me anywhere. Time got away from me and I have a dinner engagement. Just do a full lockdown when you leave, please.” He smiled at Lila before turning toward Nick. His smile noticeably thinned. “Understanding your position doesn’t mean you are in the right. She deserves far more credit.” Then he shifted back toward Lila again. “Tell him what we discussed. It’s important.”
Lips pressed together, Lila nodded. “I will.”
Nick frowned as the door shut softly behind Donovan. “What discussion?”
“Not yet.” She moved to Donovan’s desk and did something quickly on the computer. She was probably hiding all vital financials or something from Nick’s prying eyes.
Like he gave a shit what Donovan got up to in this icy tower of his.
Finally, she stepped back and took a shaky breath. “Do you truly think so little of me?”
Nick swallowed hard. “Li—”
She shook her head and strode to the windows, opening the fancy reflective blinds that obscured the view. The lights of LA in the distance appeared, the vantage from Donovan’s lofty tower perch beyond stunning.
For a second, Nick returned to a much different night, years ago now. One where Li had given him a proper dressing down before a difficult concert and he’d followed through by visiting her office afterward. She’d been nearly alone in the building, as it had been late that evening too. Even later than it was now. When he’d walked into her office, full of righteous fury and so much more, she was gazing out her window just as she was now, though her scope was different than Donovan’s due to the tower’s incredible height. She’d seemed utterly alone to him, and at once, his anger had ebbed.
He didn’t have anger in him now, just regret.
“I’m sorry.” He shut his eyes and shook his head. “Jumping to conclusions like that is indefensible.”
She was quiet for a long moment. “Do you think I’d ever do that to you?After my past, do you honestly think I could?”
“No,” he said finally, hating that what he’d done and said had reminded her of her fucker ex for even one second. “It’s not about what you would do.”
“Oh, really.”
“You’re the fucking sun and moon to me, and I can’t believe a sane man could even be near you and not want you. But it’s not because I don’t trust you. It’s all of them.” He let out a frustrated breath as she pivoted to face him, one slim brow raised in a fashion much like her boss’s. “Also, Lewis is a female’s fucking wet dream. All these years, I’d kind of hoped his suits were just cut really well and he wasn’t a goddamned Adonis under there. But nope.” Nick shook his head in disgust. “Bastard.”
A hint of a smile curved her lush mouth. “I’ve never noticed him that way. Clearly, you have.”
“Who hasn’t? I’m straight as an arrow, but I have eyes.”
“Yes, well, so do I, and I don’t view him in a sexual manner. He’s my employer, Nicholas, and only my employer.”
“You mean like I was just your client?” He didn’t mean to say it. Especially not when he sensed her irritation in his direction was weakening.
But not her hurt, and he’d just brought it storming back to the fore with his insensitive remark. Asshole.
“Look, I didn’t mean—”
“Oh, yes, you did. And you aren’t wrong.” She ran a hand over her hair, adjusting the tidy clip that held back the silken strands he’d felt against his skin more times than he could count. Never enough.
He’d never have enough of her.
“I never intended to be like Martin and misuse my influence,” she said, bringing him back to the conversation. “I resisted for a long time.” She smiled faintly. “I did a fine job of convincing both of us I hated you.”
“You didn’t misuse shit with me, and we both know it. If I hadn’t come to your office that night, you never would’ve made a move. I’d still be fucking dreaming of you and you’d be—goddammit, I don’t know what you’d be. Alone still? With some traditional dude who is perfect for you on paper and couldn’t begin to love you the way I do?”
The tilt of her head allowed him to see the minute tremble of her chin. “You don’t know what would’ve happened. I don’t know either. You can wonder and question the difference one action would make, if the timing had just been a little different, if things had aligned in another way—”
“Randy.”
She nodded. “I can’t stop thinking about it. I feel responsible.”
“Fuck, no.” He’d been trying to give her space because she wasn’t happy with him right now, but there were conversations he couldn’t have with distance between them.
This was one of them.
He crossed to her and drew her into his arms, gratified when she went without protest. She fit against him as if they had matching grooves, meant to lock together. “You’re the band’s rep for Ripper, no
t God. You couldn’t have done any more than you did. None of us knew—”
“I should’ve put more of the pieces together. It wasn’t just Randy.” She pressed her face into his neck and inhaled. “Ricki got hurt. It could’ve been worse, so much worse.”
He didn’t need her to remind him. He’d never stop having nightmares about that very thing.
“Could’ve. It wasn’t. That big lug she’s marrying was there, and he’ll always be there for her. If I didn’t believe that, I’d kick his ass for daring to touch her.” When Li tipped back her head to smile weakly, he narrowed his eyes. “I could kick his ass. No one thinks I can because he’s like a Mack truck and an Amtrak train had a baby, but I’m scrappier than I look.”
“Of course, you are, honey.”
Her belief in his fighting skills was obviously lukewarm at best. At least when it came to hand-to-hand combat with giants.
“Guess my belated New Year’s resolution is gonna be to hit the gym more with Kagan.”
“More? When have you ever gone to the gym with Simon?”
“I’ve gone,” he said defensively, glancing away from her arched brow. “Okay, so it’s been a while, and the gym was at his place. I walked by it a few times. That counts.”
Her lips twitched as she patted his stomach. “Don’t worry. Your dad bod still works for me.”
Nick made a noise in his throat. His belly was still flat, he’d checked. Good enough. “Dad bod, my ass. Since Simon’s in muscle man mode right now for the tour, might as well.” Add in Donovan’s eighteen-pack, and yeah, it wouldn’t hurt to do a little maintenance. “Once we get back, I’ll be on that shit.”
She stiffened in his embrace and he cupped her cheek. “What is it?”
Her answer was slow in coming. “It wasn’t just about what happened to Randy and Ricki,” she murmured.
“The others could’ve been hurt too.”
“God, you’re just a colossal idiot, you know that?” She punctuated the question with a soft jab to his chest. She would’ve spun away and out of his arms, but he wasn’t allowing that any more tonight.
“Duh, yeah, noted. But why now?”
“You could have died.” She jabbed him again when he wouldn’t let her go, and this time, his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her neck. “Don’t you realize that?”
He started to throw back a glib response. It was his way, especially when they were sort of fighting. But the sheen in her eyes stopped him cold.
“No.”
“Yes.” She fisted her hands in his shirt. “Just because you think you’re too tough and strong for anything to harm you, he had a gun. A fucking gun he wouldn’t have hesitated to use on you, and you would have hesitated to defend yourself. You did. I saw it through the monitor.” Her lips parted on a tormented breath. “He wanted to kill you, and you still couldn’t bring yourself to do the same.”
“You’re wrong. If it had been a choice of him or me, he would’ve been out the door in a bag that zipped. As it was, he was anyway, because my sister is a goddamn steady shot.”
“She could do it. You couldn’t have. You loved him too much to—”
“I loved him once. A long time ago. But you honestly think if it had come down to him or me, to me living for you and the girls, he would’ve had a chance?” He softened his grip on her and framed her beautiful face in his hands. The tears that quivered on her lashes, a heartbeat away from dropping, shredded him into pieces. “You and our girls and my sister are my everything. I won’t leave you. Ever. Especially not because of that lowlife piece of garbage that tried to ruin everyone we love.”
She covered his hands with her own, lacing their fingers together. “I…” She faltered and he steadied his hold on her, waiting her out. She so rarely stumbled, even for a second. “I’m afraid now, in a way I wasn’t before. I never knew true fear until Randy and Ricki, and having to watch you fight for your life on a monitor when I couldn’t do a thing to help you.” Her eyes overflowed. “I would’ve died too.”
Even as his heart lurched, he drew her in, pulling her head to his chest. He’d never guessed any of this was living inside her. After that night, she’d gone back to the role she seemed to play so effortlessly. Strong and cool and resolute. He’d never seen her scared about anything. Not for long.
Definitely not over him.
“I didn’t die. I’m right here standing beside you.” He took her hand and brought it to his chest, pressing hard. “That’s my heart beating with yours, the way it will always be. But I’ll tell you this anyway. If something had gone wrong,” he didn’t stop at her soft sob, “you wouldn’t have died. Because you have two little girls who need their brave, strong mother. You underestimate yourself, but I don’t. I don’t,” he repeated as she lifted her head to meet his gaze, her eyes still streaming. And now his were wet too to match. “I did for a second tonight, when I walked in and saw Abs of Steel half naked. Not entirely my fault though. I thought his suits were permanently attached to his body.”
Her laughter was the sweetest balm, sweeter than any riff he’d pulled out of his head or heart. “He’s also gone shirtless at the Ripper volleyball tournaments we used to have in the early days. I didn’t swoon then either.” She gave a delicate shrug. “Turns out I like hotheads more than control freaks.”
“Donovan plays volleyball?” He pushed that aside to process at another time. Instead he rubbed his thumb roughly over her lower lip. “Like, huh?”
She smiled slightly under his thumb. “Tell a guy you would die without him and he still has to play word games.”
He reached down to grip her waist, hitching her up onto his hips and carting her over to Donovan’s far too neat desk before she could do more than gasp. He deposited her on the blotter and hooked his fingers in the dainty strand of pearls around her pale throat. “It’s been too long since I’ve bound your wrists with pearls.”
Her lashes fluttered. “This is a place of business.”
Hmm, he’d expected more of a refusal than that. Maybe his dirty side had rubbed up against her own innate one enough to kill some of her prim and proper side. Or else she knew how to torque him just right.
Only one way to see.
“It is. And he made a mistake of leaving me alone with you in here when all I can think about is spreading you out and fucking you on his desk just like I wanted to fuck you on yours that night after the concert. The night I finally got to touch you.” He tugged lightly on the pearls as her pupils blew wide. “I wanted to from the very first time I saw you. Such a good girl, and all I wanted to do was tarnish you.”
She wet her lips and wound her legs around his hips, not so subtly drawing him in closer. Into all that heat he couldn’t wait to sink into. “Not so good.”
“I might’ve forgotten. Since you work so much and I barely see you now.”
Her throat rippled against the backs of his fingers, still tangled in her necklace. “I didn’t want to break down on you, and I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t.” She let out a dry laugh and tossed back her head, the ends of her sultry blond hair trailing over the desk. “Then I did anyway, except I did it at the doctor’s.”
His mind was already scrambling from the sight of her tight breasts swelling against her blouse, straining the buttons until they nearly popped. But the word doctor cut through all of that. “Why were you at the doctor?”
Her head lifted and her laughter faded into a small, regretful smile. “I’d made the appointment in October to make sure all looked good to go off my birth control. The appointment itself wasn’t until late January. I was thinking after the holidays.”
He blinked. “Huh?”
She laughed again, and this time, it stuck around. She sat up more and cupped his cheeks. “Still want another baby?”
He didn’t have to think. “Of course. But you weren’t in any hurry—”
“Yes, well, time flies. The last few months proved that, didn’t they?” She turned her head. “I almost cancelled after the sho
w.” Her shoulders shook. “After Randy and Ricki.”
“You changed your mind.” His newly rising joy was snuffed out, just like that. “Not the right world to bring more kids into, blah, blah, blah.”
“That’s a reasonable thought, but no. I said I was afraid.” She closed her eyes. “The idea of getting pregnant will always scare me because of my miscarriage. Add in what happened, and I just didn’t think I could risk anything else. Maybe people only get so many miracles, and I’m asking for more than my share. We already have so much with the girls—”
“That’s bullshit. This world doesn’t hand out participation prizes. You want something, you go for it and you grab on with both hands. And you fight like hell anyone or anything who tries to rip what you love away.”
She opened her eyes and nodded. “Why I’m starting counseling, to help remember the good. The reasons to fight and not to let the fear win. It’s also why I spoke to Donovan about bringing in grief counselors to Ripper, so they’re available for all the tough guy and girl rockers who don’t need help from anyone, ever.” She watched him far too intently. “This way, they’re on site and someone can go once or ten times, their choice. No one needs to feel pressured or has to seek help on their own. It’s available if they want it.”
His throat felt too tight, and his ribs ached as if he couldn’t take a full breath. Almost unconsciously, he untangled her legs from around him and shifted back, bumping into Donovan’s rigid desk chair and sending it skidding over the sleek floor. Probably marble or some crap. Always the best for the big boss man.
Nick gripped his neck and turned away, fleeing to the window like the coward he was.
Of anything she could have said, this he’d expected least. She wasn’t anyone he would’ve ever assumed could need counseling. As for himself, the idea was laughable. He wasn’t a guy to easily spill his feelings to people he cared about, never mind strangers. And she believed any of his friends might want to either? Not hardly.
Maybe Jazz would. She was open to shit like that. Gray too since he’d been in rehab and his feelings had basically been dissected like that night’s catch of the day. But Simon? Hell no. Well, maybe, because of Margo…
