Her assistant nodded.
“Would you mind waiting for him? Brian won’t be going anywhere. I’ll be on my cell if they need any more information from me.”
On the way home a new thought wrapped itself like a nice warm scarf around Gabby’s chest. She’d proved she wasn’t the thief. Nicolas would have to admit he was wrong now. Wrong on so many levels. A thrill skimmed her skin. Maybe he’d actually apologize and maybe, maybe she might just start to catch a break.
Chapter Eleven
On his way home in the car at seven, Nicolas tried to stretch out his aching legs and failed. He lifted them awkwardly out of the footrest and attempted to extend them onto the other side of the car. That didn’t work either. The first hundred or so children hadn’t seemed heavy, but after the second hundred, every little butt which landed on his bruised thighs got heavier and heavier. If he could just stretch out the ache. He’d thought about walking home, it was almost criminal to be driven such a short distance, but when he’d finally managed to get the Santa beard off his face, he couldn’t bear the thought of the cold evening air on his newly raw skin. Never again would he mock an actor who played Santa for a living. It was damn hard work.
Scanning through the messages on his phone he saw he had three missed calls from Malcolm. This was either really good, or really bad. Dialing the man’s number he looked out at the snowy streets. Despite his tired body, it had been a good day. A great day. Watching the slow smiles build as each child listed off the reasons why they’d been good made him feel pleased to be alive. And having Fraser next to him, hearing the compliments the boy got for his politeness, and patience, and charm, gave him a sense of pride he never knew he had.
He was still angry at Gabby. Furious. But maybe now he could start to build a relationship with the boy. What he felt for Gabby Phillips didn’t have to come into the equation. Except—except what? Except that every time he spent some real time with her he never wanted to leave. Except that under the layers of anger and frustration, he didn’t hate her. Perhaps never really had.
Nicolas listened as Malcolm breathlessly related everything that had happened that day. “And it was Ms. Phillips who discovered him?” Nicolas said when Malcom paused.
“I know it looks convenient, but she had nothing to do with it,” Malcom said. “This guy had planned on using her as cover in case it caught up with him but he clearly didn’t have the stomach for it. Fessed up to everything.”
“Still. She could have done a number on him?”
“Nope. He took the money to pay his wife’s medical bills. Once he got talking, there was no stopping him.”
The excuse didn’t carry much weight with Nicolas. Not when he and his grandmother had had to make do with so little their whole lives, and he’d still made good. Sure he’d had a few lucky breaks early on, but if he’d stolen when things were tough, he’d have never made it to the top. But. “So Gabrielle Phillips is clean.”
“As the driven snow sir.” Malcom paused. “Where to next. I locked in an office while I double checked the files. He’s still there. Apparently Ms. Phillips suggested that you wouldn’t call the police if he came clean now.”
“She did, did she?” Nicolas rubbed his face. Despite the guy framing her, she’d sought to protect him? That was some serious Christmas Forgiveness Spirit. Pure generosity. “Do you believe him? That his wife’s sick?”
“Yes. He showed me pictures on his phone.”
The guy was clearly desperate. “What the hell, it’s Christmas. Tell him he’s fired and he’ll have to pay back the money. Every penny. But we won’t call the police.”
They pulled into his building and swung into his private park. Nicolas cut off the call and stepped out of the car. Gabby might have helped save Brian’s future, although Christmas without a job wasn’t much of a future, but she’d still stolen five Christmases with his son. It was time for answers.
Opening the door to his apartment he discovered Gabrielle and Fraser playing cars on the floor. Nicolas held a breath, trying to harden his heart to the happy family picture in front of him. She hid your son from you. For five years.
“Santa!” Fraser yelled. “I mean, Nicolas. I mean…I don’t have to call you Santa anymore do I? And did you tell the real Santa that I was good?”
“Course I did.”
“Come on buddy, time for bed,” Gabby said.
“Awww.”
“No complaining. You’ve had a great day.”
Fraser’s frown cleared. “I had ice cream,” he told Nicolas with something like awe.
“Really. Bit cold isn’t it?”
“Is it?” Fraser seemed genuinely confused. “I thought you could only get ice cream when it snowed.”
Gabby jumped in. “We haven’t had it many times.”
“Only for specials,” said Fraser and took the hand Gabby offered him to walk down the hall to his bedroom.
The kid knew nothing about the simple pleasure of cold ice cream on a hot day. The frugal life Gabby had proclaimed was the truth, there was no doubt of that now, but that Fraser had been living the life of scarcity Nicolas had known as a child made his heart ache, especially as Nicolas had so much to spare. He started down towards Fraser’s room but stopped and sat. This was a bigger conversation. A question of the future. A question he’d never thought he’d be answering and certainly not one that provoked such a turmoil of emotions. Or one that featured Gabrielle Phillips in it as the mother of your children.
Gabby returned, hesitantly, walking down the hall to perch on the edge of the sofa at the other end to him. “Thanks for today. He had a blast.”
He waited and the silence grew. Nicolas watched as she bit her lip.
“Did Malcolm ring you?” she asked finally.
“Yes.”
The relief swept over her face then drained away when he said nothing else. “So you know it wasn’t me? That I didn’t steal anything. That I never have and never would.”
“Never?”
“No.” Now confusion played in her eyes. “My father might have been a thief but I’m not. I was only ever trying to help my father. And you. My father was a master manipulator, and he left me in a deep mess. But you can’t blame me for that. Not now.”
Again Nicolas had to cool his emotions and focus on getting answers. He still didn’t know one hundred percent that Fraser was his. “Are you sure you’ve never stolen anything from me?”
“No.”
“Stolen hours of conversation I might have had, the first moments I’ve missed out on?”
Something twigged, but he could see her fighting to admit it. “What do you mean?”
“Fraser.”
The one word was all he needed. Her face paled and she stood. “I’m not sure…”
“Oh come on. I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. I guess it just never occurred to me that you would do something like that. Fraser’s my son isn’t he? He’s got my eyes, my hair, he looks exactly like I did as a child. He even has some of my mannerisms.”
Gabby sat again as if someone had punched her.
“Am I right? Is he mine? You didn’t cheat on me, you just left me. Left me and stole my child.”
She nodded.
Although he’d told himself it was obvious, having it verified was still a shock. Fraser was his son. Someone else in the world shared his DNA. His blood, his lineage. “He’s a Morganti.”
Gabby’s chin rose. “He’s a Phillips. It’s on his birth certificate.”
“Only because you ran out on me and never bothered to let me know. What gave you the right?”
“You said you didn’t like children. That they were an inconvenience, and got in the way of business, of life. You said you didn’t know why people thought it was such a good idea to breed.”
Nicolas was silent. “People change.”
She snorted. “You don’t change. You believed I stole from the company. You invited us here so you could keep an eye on me. And if I’d told you I w
as pregnant you would have accused me of trying to trap you and then found a way to take over.”
Was she right? Best defense, offence. “You haven’t said you’re sorry,” he said.
“Sorry? For what?”
“For keeping me from my son. For making me miss his first five Christmases. For bringing him up with nothing when he could have had anything he wanted, everything he needed.”
“You think money would have made everything better?”
“It wouldn’t have hurt.”
“Shows what you know about love.”
“I know plenty about love,” Nicolas said, thinking of his grandmother. But what Gabby said clenched his chest like a fist. The mother of his son thought he was cold blooded. Incapable of love. And? And he’d shied away from commitment before but he knew what it was. He blinked slowed then looked at Gabby as if taking off sunglasses. He knew exactly what love was. Exactly what it looked like. And it was standing right in front of him. Hell. He stuffed his hands into his pockets to hide the fists he’d made at his own stupidity. Now what? Now he had to keep Gabby and Fraser close till he knew what he was going to do next.
Gabby carried on, oblivious to his revelation. “It’s not just about love, it’s about life. You think money fixes everything. If I hadn’t left you would have sent me one of your Tiffany’s boxes, admit it. You think a sparkly trinket can make everything better. That’s not how it works in the real world.”
“What do you mean the real world?”
“The world where kids get sick and all they want is a hug, not a new toy. I didn’t tell you about Fraser because I knew you wouldn’t really want to be in his life. You’d just want to own him. To put him in your collection.”
“That’s unfair.” Was it? Of course it was. Fraser was a child, not a possession. One he didn’t know how to be with because he’d never had the opportunity.
“Maybe.” As if she’d read his thoughts, Gabby’s outrage diminished but the fire remained in her eyes. God she was beautiful when she was angry.
“Having a son might not have been in my life plan back then, but you still should have told me. I might have surprised you.”
Gabby bit her lip. “You might have tried to take him from me.”
“I might have. I still might.”
“You wouldn’t.” She paled.
No. Damn. This was going all wrong. He didn’t mean to hurt her more. Just get her to admit what she’d taken from him. To understand what Fraser meant to him too.
But the anger hadn’t left Gabby yet. “I didn’t steal from your company. I am not a bad person. I’m a good mother, and I work damn hard to make sure Fraser doesn’t miss out on anything.”
“No, you’re not a corporate thief,” Nicolas said gently.
“And?”
“And I’m sorry I thought you were just like your father.”
“Thank you.” If she could have, he was sure she would have burnt him with her eyes.
“Your turn.”
“My turn what?”
“Apologize.”
She gritted her teeth. “I’m sorry.”
“Say it like you mean it.”
“I’m sorry.” It was almost as if he could see through her skin. Her tendons were wound up tight, her muscles clenched ready to spring. But whether she was ready to run or to attack him he couldn’t decide.
“Sorry you left me and kept Fraser from me, or sorry that I found out?”
“Sorry I didn’t tell you. I haven’t decided if I’m sorry that you found out.”
“Really? And what will help you decide on that?”
“What happens next.”
Smart. “I could still apply for custody if you refuse to stay here. I don’t know how you’re going to make it work without a roof over your heads.”
“Please don’t.”
No begging. No tears. A class act. But Nicolas could see that if he pushed it too far, she might crack. It would have been easier if she’d been unreasonable that he knew how to deal with. This—whatever this was, was harder to comprehend than a billion dollar merger. “You’ll stay here until I decide.”
“Oh, no, we can’t. I’ll find a place.”
Nicolas waved a hand at her. “You’ll stay here. You ran off once. I’m not having you do it again. And you’ll tell him the truth tomorrow.”
“What?”
“That I’m his father. No more lies.”
“I can’t. Not just like that. It’s too soon. Too confusing.”
“You’re going to have to find a way to make it make sense.”
She slumped further, and he saw her eyes shine with moisture. “I’m not going to run. I told you. But if you take Fraser, I don’t know how I’d…”
Damn. He rushed to her side and took her hand. “We’ll work it out.”
“How? You can hardly stand to look at me sometimes.”
“You think I can’t stand to look at you?” Nicolas was genuinely shocked.
“You get that cold look in your eye. I can see the cogs turning. God. It’s so demoralizing. We can’t stay here. When you’re off with your mistresses, what will I tell Fraser? And what if you bring one of them home? It’s not fair on him and it’s not fair on you.”
“And what about you?” Rocked again by her selflessness. This was what he wanted, what he needed. She couldn’t leave him again. He had to make sure of it.
“What about me? This isn’t about me, this is about Fraser. I am sorry you missed out. And I’m sorry Fraser missed out on having a father.”
Those two sentences melted the rest of Nicolas’s reserve and he put a hand to Gabby’s face. “Someone should worry about you.” Pulling her towards him he kissed her forehead. Rather than pull away, she leant into him. He drew back, enfolded her in his arms and let her rest her head on his chest.
“I’m not going to sleep with you just so that you let us stay,” she said in a small voice.
“Wouldn’t expect you to. I’d hope you’d stay because you wanted to. That you realized it was the right thing and that all the rest,” he waved an arm. “All the rest we’d work out as we go along. I’ve only been a father for ten minutes. There’s a lot to learn.”
He felt her nodding against his chest.
“So, now you know you don’t need to worry about leaving, why are you going to sleep with me?”
Was that the merest flicker of a smile?
“Who says I’m going to?”
“I do.” He turned her face up to his and kissed properly, this time demanding full access to her mouth, his tongue daring hers to dance, indulge, mate.
Scooping her up in his arms, he carried her to his room and set her down on the bed. “No more talking until tomorrow.”
She opened her mouth to speak but he put a finger to her lips. “Don’t tell me you don’t want this.”
She shook her head and he smiled, before running his hand from her throat to her collar bone. His hands traced her shape, relearning her curves, the heat of her breath, the softness of her skin. It seemed like an eternity since he’d held her, since she’d kissed him, caressed him, been his. Mine. His mind let the word wrap itself about the two of them, making them inseparable. United.
Her tongue danced with his, twining them together as man and woman. As she arched beneath him he cupped the soft weight of her breast, thumbing the hardening nipple through her shirt and bra.
“Nicolas.”
The way she said his name undid him and with no more politeness he tore at her clothes and shed his own efficiently. Her skin was so warm, so beautiful. Breathlessly he looked down over her body. Perfect.
“Come here.” Her demand held none of the softness of her expression and he was more than happy to oblige, laying himself over her petite frame so she was completely covered by his body. He raised her arms above her head and held them with one hand so the other was free to explore, to tease and to pull her to him. Her kisses deepened and the moan moved from the back of her throat to a sound that dem
anded action. Sliding his hand up her bare thigh he covered her sex and she thrust herself into his hand. “Touch me.”
Her eyes already closed, she threw back her head and he watched as she bit her lip, holding back the passion he could feel mounting inside as he twirled a finger just at the edge of her moist entrance.
“No more. Please. All of you now.” She opened her eyes, and the desire they held in their indigo depths rocked Nicolas. This was a woman who spoke her mind, who had been working, alone, to raise his son the best way she knew how. A woman he’d been missing in his bed for a long time.
He kissed her, long and deep and she opened her legs wider beneath him, urging his ready erection towards her center. Having already sheathed him ready erection, he thrust himself all the way inside her in one long movement, the glory of it drawing a groan from him.
Catching her eye, he held it and as the two of them began to rock together, she locked her gaze to his, daring him deeper, harder, faster.
“We should slow down,” he managed, but she shook her head. “We’re well beyond that. Just let go, take me with you.”
His focus narrowed till all he was, was their rhythm, their pulse, their heat.
“Gabby,” he managed and as her cry mingled with his, he lost himself in her.
They were still for the longest time. Quiet. Easy. Together.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her beautiful indigo eyes fluttering and finally closing as she fell asleep in his arms. Her dark hair spread out across the pillow, and Nicolas was struck again by the contrast that her fragile beauty had with her strong spirit. She still didn’t know what she did to him. What she’d always done to him. She still thought he didn’t know what love was. Shuffling his arm slowly out from under her, he padded to the kitchen for a glass of water, his thoughts churning. Sipping his water, Nicolas stopped and stared out the full wall windows over New York City. The lights danced with the cold wind and snow, and he felt his heart lurch at the beauty of it. He was getting sentimental. Well why not, it was almost Christmas.
What did he want for Christmas? It had been years since he’d bothered to ask himself that question. Tonight the answer seemed to be staring him in the face.
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