What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG)

by CJ Roberts

  How did NicsBitch know where he was?

  To protect Lauren from the paparazzi, he’d kept his plans for the evening secret from everyone, including Vivian. The bike belonged to a friend and couldn’t be traced back to him. The clothes he wore were pretty much the opposite of his usual Nic The Lover style. And, with the helmets, he and Lauren should have been incognito. He leaned forward so he could see around Lauren and checked the entrance to the restaurant, including what he could see of the parking lot through the front windows.

  “I’d suggest you get your dinner to go and leave as quickly as possible. Let me know when you’re back in your room.”

  “Thanks for the warning.” He flipped his phone closed and put it back in his pocket. This was bad. If the paparazzi showed up, Lauren would be angry. But he didn’t want to leave before they had a chance to discuss the photo shoot. Could he risk staying a while longer?

  Lauren’s brows furrowed. “Do we need to leave?”

  “It’s nothing.” He’d keep an eye out for the paparazzi and sneak her out through the kitchen if they showed up.

  “I have an idea for a photo shoot,” she began as he picked up his fork and took another bite of chicken. “I read somewhere that you like hockey.”

  He put down his fork and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I have season tickets for the Los Angeles Kings, and I catch as many Montréal Canadiens games on TV as I can.” He’d also been on the high-school hockey team back in Chicago. Even though he’d only been a junior at the time, the college scouts had already started showing an interest in him. And the school newspaper often printed funny action shots of him—preparing a slap shot, celebrating a goal, taking a tumble.

  He’d had such a crush on the cute photographer from the school paper. Chuckling ruefully, he remembered how many times he’d purposely taken a fall so she’d take a picture of him. He seemed to have a thing for cute photographers named Lauren.

  Just as he was about to ask Lauren where she’d gone to high school, a glint in the parking lot caught his attention. He leaned sideways to get a better view. Only a few people remained in the restaurant and the parking lot stood nearly empty. Shaking his head at his overactive imagination, he returned his attention to Lauren.

  She turned to look over her shoulder. “Is something wrong?”

  “I thought I saw something outside.” He slumped back against his chair. At this point, he couldn’t decide what would be worse—a single stalker showing up or an entire army of paparazzi. Both had the potential to ruin his night. “So, what’s your idea?”

  “I want do the next part of the shoot at an arena.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “We’d do a few outfit changes and get some shots of you in and out of the goal. Yesterday’s shoot was posed and serious. With the arena shots, I want to capture your joy and spontaneity.”

  She picked up the paper napkin beside her plate and proceeded to shred it into tiny pieces. He reached forward and clasped her wrist. “Chérie, don’t be nervous. I trust your instincts. The results will be perfect.”

  “I’m worried Vivian will reject hockey photos because they aren’t sexy.”

  Captivated, Nic watched her nibble her lower lip and had to stifle a groan as heat arrowed straight to his groin.

  Lauren looked up. “She said the shots had to be sexy, not artistic. Magazines want photos that will get women to pick up their latest issue at the checkout counter in local grocery stores. I think the hockey photos could be both artistic and sexy, and women would want to buy the magazines so they could take the photos home and enjoy them in privacy.”

  Hundreds, perhaps thousands of women lovingly gazing at his photos, tracing their fingers over his jaw, his neck, his chest, his stomach, his… The image of Lauren doing just that flashed through his mind, arousing him further. Nic shifted uncomfortably. Next time he saw Lauren, he’d have to wear looser pants.

  “Why does that make you smile?” she asked as she took a sip of her wine.

  “You have passion and talent.” A frown continued to mar her otherwise smooth forehead, so he tried another angle. “Yesterday, during the photo shoot, could you envision how the photos would turn out?” She nodded. “And they turned out great, didn’t they?”

  She acknowledged his words with a quick jerk of her head. “I need to trust myself.” Lauren cleared her throat and ducked her head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to have a meltdown.”

  Was she embarrassed to share her concerns because of who he was? Celebrities were no one special. He should know. “You should have seen me the first time I went on stage. I had the role of Joseph in the school Christmas play. Half-way through, my nerves got the better of me. I ran offstage and threw up in the boys’ bathroom. Poor Mary had to deal with the three wise men alone.”

  The oddly erotic sight of Lauren politely trying to stifle her laughter with her hands pleased him. Soon, they were both laughing so hard the other restaurant patrons turned to stare at them.

  Nic met her gaze and his laughter evaporated. With her glittering eyes and pink cheeks, she was beautiful. His own face heated as he pictured her naked and flushed, her sweet moans singing in his ears. Averting his eyes, he took several deep breaths before he could return to their conversation. “When do you want to do this?

  “Do this?”

  Her bewildered tone brought his eyes back to her. The beautiful Lauren appeared a bit dazed, as though her thoughts had been along the same lines as his. “The hockey thing.”

  “Right. If you’re available tomorrow, I can try to book the Pepsi Center for a couple hours. The Avalanche are away for the next few days.”

  “Perfect.” Good thing he’d already arranged for a few days off. “Do you want any coffee or tea, or some dessert?”

  She glanced at her watch and shook her head. “It’s late. I’m sure these poor people can’t wait for us to leave, and I should get to bed.”

  After settling the bill, Nic looked out the windows. When he was sure no paparazzi were hiding in the parking lot, he took Lauren’s arm and led her outside. He considered driving in circles around the hotel to extend the ride so he could feel her heat against his back and her cold hands on his chest again. He coughed into his hand to hide his grin.

  After a short ride back to the hotel, he parked the bike. As they crossed the lobby toward the elevators, she said, “I know you don’t like to be out in public, so you don’t have to walk me to my room.”

  Nic had to grin at her naïveté where the press was concerned. Odds were high that the paparazzi had staked out her room rather than his because hers was booked under her real name.

  “But maybe I want to,” he said.

  As she was removing her coat, Nic pressed the button for the eighteenth floor. Lauren raised an eyebrow. “You know my room number?”

  He relaxed against the elevator wall and caught the reflection of her backside in the mirrored doors. “Sorry?” She had a perfect round butt, beautifully outlined by her tailored pants. He barely stopped himself from reaching out.

  “How did you get my room number?”

  With effort, he pulled his eyes away from the entrancing sight to focus on her face. “The hotel operator gave it to me when I called your room yesterday.”

  “A woman?”

  He grinned. “Of course.”

  “She wasn’t supposed to do that.”

  “No, but I’m hard to resist.” When the elevator doors opened, he stepped out and scanned the hall for any waiting paparazzi. It was empty.

  At her door, he pulled her close and kissed her on each cheek. The feel and taste of her tempted him. Behind her door, a nice big bed waited for them. One word from her and she’d be underneath him. Reluctantly, he released her and stepped back. The paparazzi could arrive at any time, and he couldn’t risk exposing her again.

  He walked back to the elevator, his steps slow. If he turned around, she’d probably welcome him with open arms. When the elevator doors closed, he let out a relieved sigh. A war raged in
side him, and he’d almost lost the battle.

  He had to stay away from her.

  As he stepped out onto his floor, his phone rang. Not recognizing the ringtone, he read the caller ID: 514, the area code for Montréal.

  “Mr. Lamoureux. This is Dr. Marseau at the CHUM.” Why was The University of Montréal Hospital Centre calling him? He glanced left and right to make sure the halls were empty. The last thing he needed was for some reporter to overhear this conversation.

  “Do you know a Rachel Lamoureux?” the doctor asked. “Her medical file lists you as next of kin.”

  The air rushed out of Nic’s lungs. “What’s going on?” he croaked as he raced to his room where he could talk freely. Rachel didn’t deserve to have her life splashed on the front page of the newspapers.

  “We admitted her an hour ago. She was kicked by a horse and sustained multiple fractures of the left tibia. Because of her condition, this is very serious. The break is messy and she’s running a fever. If the fever persists overnight, we’ll need to operate.”

  Jesus. He hoped Rémi was with her. After letting the doctor know he’d be there as soon as possible, Nic ended the call.

  “That sounded serious.”

  “Jesus Christ!” What the fuck was she doing in his room again? Nic glared at Vivian. “You scared the shit out of me.”

  “Darling, what’s wrong? Did you get bad news?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to figure out what to do. “Rachel’s been hurt. If I leave right now, I can be in Montréal by morning.”

  “Do you need me to get you a rental car?”

  “I’ve got a friend’s motorcycle.”

  “Nonsense. A ten-hour drive on a motorcycle at night would be very uncomfortable, not to mention dangerous. A rental car will be waiting for you in front of the lobby in fifteen minutes.”

  He kissed her cheek. Maybe he had been too hard on her lately. After all, she’d proven over and over that he could count on her. “I almost forgot. Lauren is setting up a photo shoot tomorrow. Let her know I had an emergency.”

  She pulled a cell phone out of her purse and began dialing. “Darling, start packing.”

  Nic raced to gather his belongings. Please God. Let her be okay. How much more could Rachel take? She’d already suffered enough. Nothing he could do would erase all the pain he’d caused her. But he could show her how much he loved her, how much she meant to him, how sorry he really was.

  As he’d done a million times since the accident, he wished he could switch places with his sister.

  4

  Another yawn threatened to crack Nic’s jaw, despite the gallons of caffeine he’d slugged back during the long drive through the high peaks, deep valleys, and breathless turns of the Adirondack Northway. During the day, it was a sight to behold. At night? A roller-coaster ride in unrelenting darkness. But as he drove over the Jacques-Cartier Bridge onto the island of Montréal, the Saint Lawrence rushing underneath sparkling in the morning sun, his heart felt a little lighter. He was home.

  At the end of the bridge, Nic followed Rémi’s directions to the visitor parking lot of the CHUM’s Notre-Dame Hospital pavilion. He cut the engine and took a moment to prepare for the scene inside. Even if Rachel didn’t need surgery, her injury was still very serious, and Nic had to be ready for anything the doctor might tell them. He had to be her rock. He white-knuckled the steering wheel and gritted his teeth. For Rachel, he’d deliver an Oscar-winning performance and be a regular ray of sunshine.

  In the hospital lobby, he detoured into the gift shop. He laughed out loud when he spotted a bear dressed like a nurse in blue scrubs. Rachel would love it. He also chose a box of Turtles and a bouquet of wildflowers.

  The flowers reminded him of Lauren, of the smell of her perfume and her expression as she described the apple blossom bouquet he’d had delivered to her in D.C. He regretted having to postpone the photo shoot, but Rachel had to come first.

  Nic paused outside the door to Rachel’s room. Taking a deep breath, he pasted on a happy face. One step into the room, a shudder tore through him, almost making him drop the gifts he held in his arms. His sister looked frail and vulnerable, her face drawn and pale, surrounded by a multitude of tubes and machines, her injured leg suspended in a hammock with ropes and pulleys. When she pushed her long dark hair behind her ears, her slender fingers trembled. Quickly, he rearranged his features to hide his shock, his remorse, and his shame.

  Rachel’s eyes widened, and a smile spread across her face as he approached. “You’re here!”

  Unable to speak, Nic placed his purchases on a table at the foot of her bed and pulled her into his arms. He buried his face in her hair as tears threatened to escape and his chest ached with emotions he couldn’t show. Nic swallowed hard and blinked several times, fighting to regain control.

  “I can’t believe you came all this way to see me.”

  “Family sticks together in times of need, ma chouette.”

  Rachel leaned around him and winked at Rémi, sprawled in the room’s only chair. “Did you teach him that one?”

  Rémi held up his hands in surrender and grinned. “No way. He came up with that fortune cookie bullshit on his own. Iroquois expressions are much more eloquent.”

  Nic shot his friend a playfully stern look, then turned back to Rachel with a crooked smile. Rémi had obviously been working overtime to keep her spirits up.

  “How’re you feeling?” Nic asked softly.

  She lifted a shoulder and shrugged. “I didn’t get a fever, which was the doctor’s biggest concern.”

  “I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that.”

  “Oh, I think I know.” She grinned impishly as she eyed the table where he’d set his purchases. “Anything in that pile for me, or are all those gifts for the nurses?”

  Nic laughed. God, he’d missed his sister. He got up and handed her the flowers.

  Rachel inhaled the heady fragrance, pleasure evident on her face. “I love them! They smell like the meadows on the ranch.”

  Rémi fetched a water pitcher and with great fanfare arranged the flowers, amusing Rachel with his antics. He was the best friend a man could have. When he was done, Rémi turned to Nic and waved to the pile. “Don’t stop now, my friend.”

  Nic presented her the box of Turtles.

  “Aren’t you going to open them? I have to try at least one.”

  Since he shared her addiction to chocolate, Nic couldn’t deny her plea. He slit open the box, but before she could take one, Rémi’s hand was already there. Nic pulled the box away. “Ladies first.”

  “Age before beauty,” Rémi retorted.

  Nic raised a haughty eyebrow. “Fairies before fiends.”

  “You snooze—you lose.”

  Rachel’s laughter rang out. “Guys, enough, please. My sides are sore from laughing so much.”

  Rémi shot Nic a triumphant grin, and the two of them cracked up.

  “Okay, you win. This time,” Nic conceded. He placed the box on Rachel’s lap and held out his final package.

  Rachel grinned when she pulled the nurse bear out of the bag.

  “Oh, look,” Rémi said. “He came bearing gifts.”

  “She’s adorable! I didn’t have a nurse in my collection.”

  Nic’s heart constricted. Rachel had always been so easy to please. “She’s the only nurse cute enough to bring home,” he joked.

  “I’ve got to disagree with you there, man.” Rémi shook his head. “The little night nurse was f—”

  “Hey! Watch your mouth. There’s a girl in the room.” Nic cuffed his friend on the arm, but his heart was bursting.

  Rachel’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “I’m twenty-two, you twit.”

  “Speaking of women who are no longer children.” Rémi picked up the magazine on the nightstand. “Tell us about the bodacious brunette.”

  Rachel grinned. “We want all the details.”

  Nic groaned and scrubbed his face. On the
cover was the photo of him and Lauren caught in the throes of their Paparazzi Kiss. Did he want to explain how he’d felt sparks in the air when he’d walked into that hotel room in D.C.? How his lips had burned when he’d kissed her knuckles? How he’d lost total control at the first touch of her lips?

  He really didn’t. But he had to tell them something. “Lauren’s a photographer from Seattle. We did a photo shoot together last Friday.”

  “Looks like you did a little more than shoot a few photos,” Rémi teased.

  “Things got a little out of hand.”

  “I’d say things got a little in hand…”

  “Rémi! I think he really likes this woman.” When Nic didn’t respond, she prodded, “Don’t you?”

  No matter how much he might want to at this moment, he couldn’t lie outright to his sister. “She’s just starting out, and I want to help her, if I can. But it’s strictly professional. I’m not interested in a relationship right now.”

  Rachel considered this. “I can’t imagine that photo and article did her career any good. She’ll need some good solid work to live this down.”

  Ouch. As usual, Rachel’s assessment was spot on. He hadn’t been thinking—at least not with the head on his shoulders. But he wouldn’t let his thoughtlessness ruin Lauren’s life the way it had his sister’s.

  “Her photos are incredibly creative. We discussed some of her ideas last night, and once we’re done with this next photo shoot, magazine editors will be beating down her door.”

  Rachel and Rémi smiled, a little too smug for his taste.

  He narrowed his eyes at them. “What?”

  “Sounds to me like you want to be the one beating down her door,” Rachel said.

  “Nah, he doesn’t want to beat down her door. He wants to bang—”

  Rémi was interrupted by a knock on the door. The doctor entered the room. “I received your lab results. There doesn’t seem to be any infection, but we’ll continue the antibiotics to be safe. However, you do have multiple fractures, which will take some time to heal.”

  “Am I going to have a cast?” Hearing a quaver in her voice, Nic sat down beside Rachel and held her hand.