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

by CJ Roberts

  It was possessive.

  Todd had never needed her the way Nic seemed to need her. And she delighted in the knowledge of that need. She pulled him into the circle of her arms. He tensed for a moment before accepting her embrace. When he sank against her and tightened his hold, relief flooded her. “I didn’t understand. I never meant to hurt you.”

  He leaned back. His gorgeous blue eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite identify—worry? Distrust? Hope? “What didn’t you understand, chérie?”

  Swallowing audibly, she took his hand in hers and pressed it to her chest before answering. “I understand now why you got upset when I called you Nic The Lover after we….” She trailed off. As his expression became carefully blank, her nerves jangled.

  Voice flat, he pressed her. “What is it you think you understand?”

  Oh God. For five years she’d been on her own, and she wasn’t ready to let Nic go, didn’t want to let him go. Her fingers tightened around his hand.

  He grimaced. “Lauren, your nails….”

  Immediately, she loosened her grip and brought his hand to her mouth. “You must think I’m crazy. I’m trying to apologize, and instead I end up clawing your hand.”

  Despite the heat that warmed her cheeks, and his stoic expression, she needed to finish what she’d begun. “For you, there are two Nics. There’s the public one—Nic The Lover. He’s outgoing and charming. Then there’s the real Nic. He hates the media and craves privacy. Am I close?”

  Jesus Christ. He wasn’t ready to have this conversation with Lauren.

  With his gaze fixed on the fireplace across from the couch, Nic let out a ragged, tired breath. “You make me sound like I have some sort of split personality disorder.”

  She chuckled. “I really do get it. Nic The Lover is an act. I’ll admit I was confused at first. But can you blame me? You didn’t win that Oscar for nothing.”

  No, he couldn’t blame her. He’d been playing the part so long he’d forgotten how to be himself with a woman. Since meeting Lauren, he’d been delving into his Nic The Lover repertoire, trying to impress her. Maybe he and Nic The Lover weren’t so different anymore. Maybe Nic The Lover was rubbing off on him.

  And now that she knew about his act, she might accept his extreme need for privacy at face value. Maybe he could have Lauren and still keep his secrets. “To make it in Hollywood, I had to create this image, and now I’m stuck maintaining it.”

  With a flick of her wrist, she pushed her hair over her shoulder and gave him a saucy grin. “Well, do you know which Nic I want?”

  Desire shot through him; his cock instantly hardened. He returned her grin with one of his own. “No, but please enlighten me.”

  Straddling his thigh, she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, “I want you. I want the real Nic. The same sweet, considerate Nic I knew in high school.”

  What the hell? “High school?”

  Lauren jumped off his lap and slapped a hand over her mouth. Apparently she hadn’t meant to let that nugget slip. “Come on, Lauren. We’re being honest here, aren’t we?” Yeah, yeah, he was a hypocrite. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander and all that. But fuck it.

  Red-faced, she turned away from him. “We went to the same high school.”

  Nic crossed his arms. He needed details. He’d remember a girl like Lauren. “What school?”

  “Mundelein High School.” No hesitation. When he continued to stare at her, she added weakly, “Go Mustangs!”

  “Were we in the same grade?”

  She nodded. “Eleventh.” Again, no hesitation.

  Images of everyone he could remember from high school flashed before his eyes. And that’s when it hit him—Lauren was the cute school newspaper photographer he’d chased after his entire eleventh grade. He’d started to make the connection that day at the restaurant but had gotten sidetracked and hadn’t asked her. After Rachel’s accident, his memories of Chicago had blurred, but he hadn’t forgotten the teenaged Lauren. She just looked nothing like the adult Lauren.

  “Were we friends?”

  “No… not really.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Anger sparked in her eyes as she turned to meet his gaze, hands planted on her hips. “Well, we couldn’t be friends when you never even noticed me, now could we?”

  Nic wanted to laugh. He’d done more than notice her. He’d followed her around school and acted stupid, hoping she’d take his picture. Christ. Stupid didn’t cover it; he’d been an utter moron. That night when he and his buddies had been drinking… he hated to think about what he’d done to try to get her attention. His crush on her had been of monumental proportions, but he’d never approached her directly. A stupid jock like him wouldn’t have fit in with her friends.

  She’d hung with the smart kids, the ones who were part of the photography club, the school newspaper, the math team. He’d loitered in the hall outside the darkroom after school to catch a glimpse of her when she walked out. But he couldn’t let her know any of this.

  “Chérie, believe me, I would have noticed you.”

  “Yeah well.” She shrugged. “I looked a lot different then.”

  No kidding. She’d been skinny and shy in a quirky, oddly attractive way. “I’m sure you were beautiful.” She smirked.

  Time to change the topic. Taking her hand, he led her back through the kitchen to the patio. “We’d better check on Kaden before our steaks become charred lumps of coal.”

  “What? He told me he was the best steak griller around.”

  “Let’s just say he has a very high opinion of his skills.” The panic on her face made him laugh. She raced ahead and was soon engaged in a lively exchange with Kaden.

  As Nic watched them bickering like brother and sister, he acknowledged his earlier jealousy had been unfounded but not surprising. Jealousy had consumed him each time he’d seen her with another guy at school. Late at night, he’d lain in bed imagining talking with her, touching her.

  He wanted to confess everything. To tell her how beautiful she’d been. To erase the self-doubt he’d seen in her eyes. He wanted to tell her how madly in love he’d been. How much he’d wanted her, even then. He hated lying, but he couldn’t risk her finding out about Rachel.

  After pouring a glass of chardonnay for Lauren and grabbing two beers from the fridge, he walked out to the patio to join his friends. Because yeah, despite everything, these two people, who knew the real Nic, were his friends. And for the first time in his life, he was hosting a dinner party.

  Lauren sat at the table sipping her wine, admiring Nic and Kaden’s rearview as they stood at the grill. Kaden was a little taller than Nic and outweighed him by about thirty pounds of muscle. But for her at least, there was no contest. Nic won hands down. After his shower, he’d changed into a pair of faded jeans that were obviously old favorites. While he chatted with Kaden about the art of proper grilling, she philosophized to herself about the art of wearing denim and determined that Nic was indeed a master. Admiring the way the material molded his butt and cupped his package, she flashed back to what they’d done that afternoon.

  Nic turned and caught her ogling his posterior. His knowing look caused heat to flood her cheeks, and she had to stifle an embarrassed laugh. After setting their plates on the table, he took a seat beside her. “A penny for your thoughts.”

  “Oh I think these thoughts are worth more than a penny.” She loved the crooked smile he wore whenever she teased him.

  He curled his hand around her nape. “Would you consider this appropriate payment?” His mouth descended on hers in a highly charged kiss, shooting her arousal from mild to extreme in a matter of seconds.

  The kiss reverberated throughout her entire body, her inner walls clenching tightly. With his mouth he mimicked his earlier actions, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted him again, deep inside. “More.”

  Kaden coughed, reminding them they weren’t alone.

  Abruptly she pulled
away from Nic, her face flaming. She risked a glance in his direction and caught his cocky expression. “Does that meet your price, chérie?”

  Rat fink.

  But that kiss had definitely been worth more than a penny. With a saucy grin of her own, she teased him some more. “You’ve earned the right to my thoughts, but…”

  “But what?”

  “Can you handle them? I mean, I don’t know if you can live up to your reputation….”

  Nic pinned her with his eyes. “So, when you were screaming my name earlier, it was an act? Maybe you’re the one who deserves an Oscar.”

  “Nic!”

  “Yeah, something like that,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Now, now, children,” Kaden interrupted them. “Settle down so Daddy can enjoy his dinner. If you behave, I’ll let you go to bed early.”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “Oui, papa,” Nic said, looking like a properly chastised little boy.

  A moment later, they burst out laughing. Then Nic picked up his glass and raised it in a toast. “To my friends.”

  As the clinking of glass on glass echoed in the room, Lauren’s heart swelled. Tears burned her eyes, but not with laughter this time. He considered her a friend, like Vivian. Even if their relationship were short-lived, she just hoped that when it was over, their friendship would endure.

  Nic wiped away the moisture from the corners of her eyes, then gave her the sweetest, most tender kiss she’d ever had. It was the exact opposite of the one he’d given her earlier, but its effect was no less devastating. Her chest tightened almost painfully with an emotion she refused to name. She was going to enjoy this time she had with Nic, no strings attached.

  The conversation flowed smoothly throughout the rest of the meal. When was the last time she’d felt so happy and relaxed? As she got up to clear the table and get dessert, Nic’s phone rang. He excused himself to take the call in the living room. She turned to Kaden. “One of his hockey friends?”

  “They’re speaking French, so it must be Rémi Whitedeer, Nic’s best friend back home.”

  “Does Rémi visit often?”

  “No. He stays in Montréal to keep an eye on Nic’s… uh… he stays in Montréal.” Kaden averted his gaze.

  Keep an eye on Nic’s what? She’d never seen more than cursory information about Nic’s past in any articles about him. It was as if his life started when he’d arrived in Hollywood at the age of twenty. Had the lockdown on his personal life been Vivian’s idea or his?

  He hadn’t admitted to knowing her in high school, but it wasn’t as if his name were John Smith. And she’d never mistake his smile or his deep blue eyes. He was hiding something—or someone—in Montréal. Something connected to the phone call he’d received during the photo shoot? He’d spoken French then too. And what about the emergency that had forced him to leave D.C. so quickly?

  Nic wouldn’t cheat on a wife or a girlfriend. Her mouth filled with the taste of acid, like she’d swallowed a vat of processing chemicals. God, she hoped she was right about that. But could he be hiding a child? Whatever it was, she had to know. He’d said she was a friend, but he didn’t trust her fully yet.

  To gain his trust, she’d have to break down his walls. Something she’d accomplish, even if it took a battering ram.

  Installing cameras in Nic’s loft had been a brilliant idea. She could monitor him anytime she wanted. And since she recorded everything, she could enjoy the show whenever it pleased her. And please her, he did.

  Although watching Nic shower was usually the highlight of her day, watching his first day back at the loft had, in many ways, been even better. Using the remote control, she paused the video on an image of Nic and leaned back in the chair. She didn’t have time right now to watch the entire footage, but what she had seen so far was a nice appetizer.

  When the photographer followed Nic into the bathroom, fury had consumed her. How dare the bitch ruin Nic’s homecoming? But then he’d seen her love note on the mirror and forgotten all about the whore.

  The look on his face when he’d seen her blood vow—pure passion. Her heart stuttered just thinking about it. She couldn’t wait to have all that passion focused on her.

  Maybe using her own blood hadn’t been the best idea, but she wasn’t worried. By the time the police figured things out, she’d have Nic tucked away in their new home. She chuckled. He hadn’t appreciated the blood as much as the words, but she’d had to do it. She needed to poke at his weaknesses every now and then. To toughen him up.

  To let him know she was in charge.

  He wouldn’t be upset for long though. When he learned she’d taken care of the situation with Summer, he’d be thrilled. It was one more proof of her dedication, of her devotion. He truly had no idea of the extent of her love, how far she’d go to have him… her way.

  Summer had dared to trick her and hurt Nic, but the lying bitch wouldn’t be hurting anyone ever again. Once more, the cameras had come in handy. Watching the video of the night Summer had given him the Rohypnol, bile had burned her throat. But she’d forced herself to watch it all. Because she’d needed to know. And she’d been right. Even drugged, Nic had resisted Summer’s pathetic attempts at seduction.

  The idiot had thought that because she was young and had big boobs, Nic would be slobbering all over himself to have sex with her. But Nic wasn’t interested in a child; he wanted a woman. And, a true woman, she’d taken care of her lover’s little problem.

  And it had been a pleasure.

  She opened the journal resting on her desk and turned to the next free page. After jotting down the latest developments, she inserted the memory card from her camera into her laptop. Moments later, she was staring at the photo she’d taken of Summer this afternoon. She had big plans for this picture. It would serve as a warning to the other bitch who kept getting in her way. She printed off a copy and glued it into her journal.

  After launching the photo editor, she pulled up her favorite wedding picture. Using the eraser function, she carefully removed her husband’s neck, head, and hair. She opened her favorite shot of Nic, the one where he sported a black Armani suit and tie along with a silk shirt. Carefully, she selected his head and copied it. Returning to the wedding photo, she pasted it on top of the body.

  When she was done, she examined the image from different angles. The differences in body shape were barely noticeable. This would be another photo to add to the collection in her journal. Anytime she felt sad or lonely, she’d flip through the pages. The images reminded her of her goal, of why she was working so hard, of what she was willing to do for Nic. Of how far she was willing to go to be with him.

  Later, she’d review the video to see how the rest of his first day back home had gone. Watching him made her feel closer to him, less alone. She wanted to be with him, taking care of him. The photographer shouldn’t have touched Nic, even to play nursemaid when he cut his hand on the mirror. The bitch shouldn’t even be in his home. How she wished she’d had time to wire the first floor as well as the upstairs. She hated not knowing what they were saying or doing out of camera range.

  As she flipped back to the photo of Nic lying on the ice, covered in blood like a gunshot victim, a smile tugged at her lips. If the photographer didn’t get out of the picture soon, Nic would get another surprise. One guaranteed to make him seek her out. He’d need her like she needed him. He’d crave her like she craved him. He’d be hers like she was his.

  Till death us do part.

  13

  Nic parked his butt in the armchair facing the wall of windows and brought the phone to his ear. “Rémi. Is Rachel okay?”

  “She’s fine, now that you’re out of the hospital. By the way, you owe Kaden. If he hadn’t called in regular reports, Rachel would have dragged me out there to check on you.”

  Which would have been a fucking disaster. The last thing he needed was for Rachel to show up in L.A. “Sounds like I’ll have to give the man a raise.” How many wa
s that today? Two? Lucky bastard.

  “Rachel said you had some company.”

  “Yeah.” He couldn’t keep the grin out of his voice. She’d surprised him today. “Turns out I knew Lauren in high school.”

  “No way.”

  “Yeah way. But I told her I didn’t remember her.”

  “Why hide it?”

  “If I admit I’m that guy, she’ll put two and two together. I don’t want her to know what I did.”

  “No one forgets someone who looks like her.”

  “She looked a lot different.”

  “You had the hots for her even then, didn’t you?”

  “Fucking A. I trailed after her like Mary’s little lamb.”

  Rémi chuckled. “I would have paid some serious cash to see that. So, what happened?”

  “The girl never noticed me.” Then he remembered her outburst. “Funny thing is, she says I never noticed her.”

  “Sounds like a case of stupid teenager-itis.”

  “Yep, but I’ve grown a brain since then.” He wasn’t going to blow things with her this time. After all, how many people got a second chance?

  “You’re Nic The Lover. If anyone can make this work, you can.”

  He’d do his damnedest. “I’ll try.”

  “As the great Yoda once said: Do or do not. There is no try.”

  Nic smirked. “Your geek is showing.”

  Rémi barked out a laugh, but then his voice turned serious. “A lot of shit’s been coming your way lately.”

  “And it just keeps on keeping on.”

  “Something new happen?”

  Nic paused and rubbed his eyes. His pulse pounded behind the sockets every time he thought about it. “Bitch left a blood message on my bathroom mirror.”

  “Shit. How did she get in?”

  “Same way she got in when she brought me home from the bar.” He blew out a breath. “She got my key and the code to the security system. I’m going to find her, Rémi.” Nic got up and started pacing. He usually thought better on his feet.