Nick held up a hand in defeat. “I know, I know. I sound like the biggest chauvinist ever. But it wasn’t Barbara’s ambition I was dissing. It was her personality. I just hate to think of you having been subjected to all her insults and tirades.”
She shrugged as she pulled her damp running top off over her head. “Her temper tantrums never bothered me. I knew most of it was only for show so I’d just try to block -”
His sharply indrawn hiss interrupted what she was going to say next, and she frowned as he stared at her in shock. His darkly tanned skin paled a little as his gaze raked over her upper body, now clothed only in a black exercise bra.
“Jesus Christ,” he rasped. “How the hell much weight did you lose anyway? I can count your fucking ribs, Angela.”
Her cheeks flushing in anger, she ruthlessly pulled her clean shirt on, covering up her admittedly bony torso. “Leave me alone, Nick,” she told him angrily. “That shouldn’t be too hard for you to do. In fact, I’d say you’re awfully good at that, wouldn’t you?”
“Angel.” He went to take her by the arm but she wrenched it out of his grasp.
“Don’t call me that,” she spat. “I’ve told you over and over not to use that name again. And stop pretending that you give a damn when we both know you don’t. You made it very, very obvious how little you cared about me and I got the message loud and clear.”
This time she couldn’t step away fast enough as he took her by both arms, his dark eyes glittering down at her fiercely.
“I care enough to want to know why you thought starving yourself was a good idea,” he bit out. “You have to know this isn’t healthy, that you look -”
“Like a skeleton. Or an anorexic. Yes, I’m well aware of how I look,” she retorted. “After all, everyone in my life nags me about it constantly. And I’m not trying to be skinny or lose weight. I don’t have a poor body image or think I’m fat. Eating is just – hard.” The last word was a whisper, causing Nick to grimace.
“How much weight did you lose and when?” he prodded.
She rolled her eyes. “God, some things never change, do they? You’re still demanding all the answers but never giving any in return. Well, maybe you should just butt out of things that don’t concern you from now on, Nick. Like me.”
He gave her a little shake, his mouth set in a tight, angry line. “But you do concern me. So, I’m asking again. Exactly how much weight did you lose and, more importantly, why?”
Angela tried to wriggle free but his big hands were like shackles around her frail upper arms. Angrily, she lashed out, “Fine, if you insist on knowing. At my lowest weight I was down a total of thirty pounds, but I’ve gained almost ten of those back recently. And I lost weight because food just didn’t seem very important anymore.” She closed her eyes, desperately fighting to stem the tears she could feel beginning to well up. “Not much of anything seemed important for a really long time.”
Nick uttered a low, succinct curse before releasing her carefully. “Because of me,” he stated flatly. “You stopped eating when we broke up. So this,” he gestured at her ultra-thin frame, “is all my fault.”
She scowled. “Don’t flatter yourself. Hard for you not to do, I know, but at least try. I told you a long time ago that I’ve always been thin and never had much of an appetite. When we – used to date, you’d practically force feed me. I’m just back to my natural weight now is all.”
He shook his head. “Uh, uh. Not buying that one. Granted, you packed those ten pounds on when we were together and looked fantastic as a result. But you were never this thin to begin with.” His gaze dropped to her tiny waist and the concave curve of her tummy before traveling down to her narrow hips and long, skinny legs. “And you never had this before, either. I noticed it when you were finishing the race.”
She made a little squawk of protest as he lifted the hem of her shirt and flicked the jeweled blue dragonfly that pierced her navel. She slapped his hand away and yanked her shirt back down.
“Do you mind?” she asked in indignation.
“I do, actually,” he drawled. “I’m not sure I like the body jewelry, not sure it suits you. What made you do something like that anyway?”
She began to pull on a pair of nylon track pants. “It was an impulse,” she admitted. “Actually, more of a drunken dare from one of my friends.”
Nick crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “Don’t tell me, let me guess – the infamous Lauren. From everything you’ve told me about her, that sounds like something she’d do. Did she get her belly button pierced, too?”
“Not that night, no. But she did get another tattoo.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Please tell me that your so-called friend didn’t talk you into getting inked as well as pierced? Frankly, the more I hear about this woman the less I like her.”
Angela smirked. “That’s okay. Because she really, really doesn’t like you, even without knowing your name. You should actually hope you never meet her in person because she’s usually got a switchblade with her.”
“Nice company you keep,” he replied sarcastically.
She reached inside her bag for the bottle of recovery drink she forced herself to consume after each workout. Unfortunately, the chocolate variety didn’t taste much better than the vanilla.
“Lauren might have a few rough edges but she’s the best friend anyone could ever ask for,” Angela said soberly. “She’s held my head over the toilet plenty of times to prove it.”
She’d meant the words as a joke, as sarcasm, but Nick apparently didn’t think it the least bit funny, given the way his eyes glittered darkly in response.
“Been drinking a lot, have you?” he asked almost menacingly. “I thought we got that under control, Angel.”
She uncapped her drink and took a sip, refusing to let him intimidate her, reminding herself that he had no rights over her any longer, no business butting into her life. “I really don’t see how that’s your business,” she replied tartly. “Especially since the only rules I obey these days are my own.”
“Is that right?” he drawled in a deceptively lazy tone. And then, without warning, he grabbed hold of the long, thick braid of her hair, wrapping it around his wrist and yanking her flush against his body. She gasped in alarm, one hand reaching out to brace herself against his heavily muscled shoulder.
“Thank God you still had enough sense left not to cut your hair,” he muttered, giving the braid a sharp tug. “But as far as I can see that’s about the only sensible thing you’ve done in the last four years. Looks to me like someone needs to be reminded of the rules she once agreed to obey.”
Anger and indignation blazed through her, and she slapped furiously at the hand that held her braid captive. “Fuck you,” she spat, in a tone she would never have dared to use in the past in his presence. “I’ll tell you one thing, Nick. The days of me obeying anything you tell me are dead and buried. So let go of me and then go piss off.”
He only snickered and pulled her even closer against him. She was startled to realize that he was aroused, and bit her lip to stifle the groan that threatened to escape as she felt the thick ridge of his erection brush against her thigh, felt the heat of his body pressed against her chest.
“I’m not used to this feisty side of you,” he said half-jokingly. “But I think I like it. For now, though, I want you to do what I say and come out to breakfast with me. And you’re going to eat whatever I order for you – a full stack of pancakes with a side of scrambled eggs and bacon, plus a protein smoothie. For starters.”
Angela would have sooner died than admit the super-sized meal he’d just described actually sounded delicious, and her tummy rumbled automatically in response. But, determined that he would never have the opportunity to order her around again, she held up the bottle of recovery drink.
“I’ve actually got my breakfast right here, thanks. And if you don’t mind letting me go, I need to get home.”
Nick gave the
bottle’s label a quick, scornful glance. “You consider that a meal? Christ, no wonder you look like a scrawny chicken. Where did you buy this crap anyway? It’s not a brand I’ve ever heard of before.”
Defiantly she took a long swig. “It’s not crap. It’s a very healthy, high protein recovery drink, specially formulated for endurance athletes. And I got it from my – my boyfriend.”
Nick scoffed. “Right. The boyfriend. The guy with no name that you keep mentioning. I’m far from convinced this so-called boyfriend even exists.”
She finished off the drink. “He definitely exists. And his name is Dwayne Conroy. I went to high school with him and we met up again last Thanksgiving.”
“So, he was your high school sweetheart or something?” asked Nick sarcastically.
Angela smiled, recalling just how big a nerd Dwayne had been back then, and how she hadn’t even given him the time of day. She’d been touched – and felt more than a little guilty – to have learned he’d had a crush on her for a long time.
“No, we didn’t date back then,” she replied shortly. “And he happens to be competing in a track meet back in New York today that’s going to be on TV in an hour or so. So, sorry to cut this scintillating conversation short, but I need to leave now if I want to catch the broadcast in time.”
But Nick had very deliberately positioned himself to stand in front of the driver’s side door, effectively blocking her entry to the car. His expression looked thoughtful, almost bemused. “So this Dwayne guy – he’s a runner, too?”
Angela shook her head. “High jumper. He won the U.S. indoor title in February, and just missed making the podium at the world championships. He’s got a great shot at making the next Olympic team.”
“How sweet. Maybe you’ll have his and hers matching medals,” smirked Nick. “But tell me – does Dwayne think you’re too skinny? Or maybe he’s into women who have the body of an eleven year old boy.”
Her face burned with indignation at his very intentional insult. “It’s none of your fucking business what he’s into,” she flung back. “Just like I’m not your business. But if you must know, then yes. He does think I’m too thin. And unlike everyone else who’s so quick to nag or insult me about it, Dwayne has actually taken the time to discuss the problem rationally and try to help me with my diet. He’s also a clinical dietician, has a degree in nutritional science. And this recovery drink you just dissed – it’s actually very calorie dense so it’s an easy way for me to try and pack on a few pounds.”
“Fine,” he conceded reluctantly. “But it’s still no substitute for a real meal. You’d probably have to drink a case of this shit a day to get back to a decent weight. Tell Lover Boy he needs to figure out a way to put some meat on your bones in a hurry.”
“Stop nagging me,” she warned. “You’re beginning to sound just like everyone else. I’ll eat when I feel like it and nobody is going to force me to do otherwise. Especially not you. Now, can I please get inside my car?”
“In a minute.” Nick seemed in no hurry whatsoever to move and was deliberately ignoring her growing agitation. “So, are you living with this guy?”
Angela sighed. “Really, Nick? I find it hard to believe that this is the most interesting thing you’ve got to do on a Saturday – quiz me about my private life. And, no. Dwayne and I do not live together, he doesn’t even live in the area. He’s based up at the Nike training facility in Eugene.”
“Hmm. So you don’t even see this guy half the time?” replied Nick scathingly. “Doesn’t sound like much of a relationship to me.”
Her fingers curled into tight little fists, her nails digging into her skin as she fought the urge to ram her fist into his rock hard gut. Or his jaw. Or, better yet, his balls.
“You’ve got some nerve,” she told him through tightly clenched teeth. “As though what you and I had was any sort of relationship, huh? I may not see Dwayne all that often but at least I can call or text him whenever I want to, I don’t have to lie about him or keep him hidden away from my family and friends, and he doesn’t expect me to obey his asinine rules like I’m his property or something. I’d take a long distance relationship with him any day over what your warped idea of one is.”
Nick’s face was darkly flushed, and his eyes blazing with anger as he yanked her hard against him, his fingers biting painfully into the bony protrusion of her hips. “You agreed to obey those rules, Angel,” he bit out. “No one ever held a gun to your head. And I think it’s way past time for me to start imposing those rules again, telling you how to do things. After all, it doesn’t look like you’ve done a very good job at taking care of yourself these past years, does it?”
This time she did hit him, or at least tried to, but her palm barely grazed his cheekbone before he clamped his fingers around her wrist. Wincing in pain, she nonetheless continued to glare at him furiously.
“The day I let you order me around again will be a cold one in hell,” she snarled. “And considering how long it took me to crawl out of there the first time, there’s no way I’m ever going back in.”
Nick’s tight, angry expression softened then, and she could swear she saw something resembling real tenderness in his eyes.
“It wouldn’t be like that this time, Angel,” he murmured soothingly. “I was a prize winning jackass to you, I admit it freely. And I realize things would have to be different between us, that I’d have to – well, compromise.”
“Compromise?” Her tone was scornful. “Wow. A word I never thought was even in your vocabulary. But it doesn’t matter, Nick, not even a little. You could go so far as to let me set down all the rules and it wouldn’t matter.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute, Angel,” he told her with a smug grin. “What we had together was too good, too special, for us not to give it another shot.”
Angela stared at him. “Are you high? Or having a serious mental breakdown? What we had, Nick, was a one-sided relationship where you had absolutely everything your way all the time. Granted, the sex was hot, but since you’re far from the only guy in this world with a big dick and a dirty mouth, I’d say you don’t have a hell of a lot going for you these days.”
For a minute he looked so furious that she was half-afraid he was going to shake her again, and then tightened his fingers around her wrist so fiercely she was convinced it was going to snap in two. Gradually he regained his composure and loosened his grip some, but still didn’t release her completely.
“We had a lot more than just good sex,” he replied tersely. “Only I was too much of a self-centered prick to admit it. And I realize now that I’m going to have to earn your trust again after the way I treated you. But just so we’re clear, Angel – you will be mine again. I don’t care about the high jumper. You don’t belong to him because you’ve never stopped being mine.”
“I don’t belong to anyone,” she snapped. “And if you think I’d ever willingly go back to you, then you’ve gone completely off the deep end.” She closed her eyes, fighting back the tears once more as she mumbled, “It almost killed me, Nick, losing you. I won’t go through something like that ever again. So just stay away from me, please? I realize that by some fucked up twist of fate we’re stuck working in the same office, but I’ll transfer to a different branch if I have to. So, please – leave me alone.”
He was silent for long seconds, his face almost devoid of expression, and Angela wondered wildly what kinds of thoughts were running through his head right now.
When he finally spoke, his voice was somber, almost hollow. “I’ll leave you alone for now. But this isn’t over, Angel. We’re not over, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to make you realize that.”
She tugged futilely at the wrist he still held imprisoned between his fingers. “Can I go now?”
He let go of her wrist only to take her by surprise and bring her palm to his cheek instead. “Just answer me one more question before you leave.” At her nod, he gave her hand a quick squeeze. “Why are your
hands so cold now? One of the things I remembered was that your hands were always so warm and soft. What happened to change that?”
She tried valiantly to ignore how good it felt to touch him again, even just his cheek, and replied in a cool, impersonal voice. “You know that old saying about cold hands, warm heart? Well, that’s just a stupid old wives tale because my heart is covered in ice, too.”
This time when she jerked her hand away he didn’t try to hold her back, simply standing there and watching as she drove off.
***
“Good morning, Cara. How’s everything going so far today?”
Cara Bregante glanced up from her computer monitor at the sound of the deep, masculine drawl and gulped. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to the effect the tall, dark, and ultra-intimidating Nick Manning had on her. Of course, she assured herself hastily, it seemed like he had that same effect on nearly every other woman in the office so she was hardly alone in her weakness. And while Nick did seem to pay far more attention to her than he did to any of the other females, Cara knew it wasn’t because he was hitting on her. No, she knew exactly why he stopped by so often, and why she’d so willingly joined forces with him.
She grinned up at him, trying not to feel dwarfed by the way he towered over her. “Really well, Mr. Manning. She was so ticked off after you stopped by earlier that she ate a whole bagel. With extra cream cheese.”
Nick grinned back, giving her a wink. “Atta girl. One way or another we’re going to pack some more weight onto that boss of yours.”
“She already looks a lot healthier than when I first started working here,” chirped Cara. “Though I’ve got to admit it’s a little weird that she tends to eat more when she’s angry or irritated.”
“Emotional eating,” declared Nick. “It’s a well-documented fact. Admittedly most cases are when someone is stressed or depressed but apparently the key with Angela is when she’s pissed off at me.”
Cara giggled merrily. “You really made her mad this morning. When I went in there after you left, she’d thrown a book against the wall. And then she ate that whole bagel without even being aware she was doing it.”
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