by Maggie Marr
“Noel!”
She swallowed and her tongue stroked along his shaft. Her mouth sucked with a hard intensity, and her hand squeezed his balls. She wanted every drop of him in her mouth.
“Fuck!” His legs tightened and the jet continued. She pulled at his cock with her mouth. A tremor shot through his legs as she slid her mouth up his shaft and her tongue stroked along the head of his cock. After a minute, she pulled him from her mouth and looked up at him. His hand reached down and lifted her back up and onto the bed where he placed her head on the pillows, his mouth kissing her lips, her nose, her mouth.
“Noel, oh my God. Noel, you didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
He gave her pleasure and she wanted to make him feel good. Nick lay down beside her and pulled her close to his body. Lights circled the edge of Lake Michigan. These moments with Nick felt stolen. Captured from the harsh reality of the world. High above the city after a romantic dinner, in his penthouse, they could pretend that only the two of them existed. They could even pretend there was a future, down there in the reality of the world, that they could carve out together. But what Noel needed and what Nick needed were two different things. She needed to help people—hands-on help. Nick needed to run North Industries.
“Hey?” Nick said and lifted her chin. His silver eyes gazed into hers. “What is it? You were happy and then you weren’t.”
“I just …”
Their naked bodies were reflected in the window of the penthouse. The muscles of his back, the curve of his ass, his arm slung over her body.
“How does this work?” Her gaze locked with his. “We didn’t work last time. Why do we think this will work now?”
“I never understood why this didn’t work before,” Nick said.
“How could you not understand? I couldn’t be the person that you expected me to be. That your family expected me to be. I’m not that person. I’m not the woman who pretends I don’t have goals for myself in my life. Being your wife, being Mrs. Nick North and all that entails, wasn’t enough for me. Still isn’t enough for me.”
“Such a horrible fate? Being my wife? Us living together forever? To create a family and a home? To make children together—beautiful, beautiful children?” Nick glanced over her shoulder. “Children who look like their beautiful mother.”
“No. Of course not.” Noel sat up in bed. She pulled the sheet around her body. “Those were the things I wanted. A family with you, a life with you. What I didn’t want was all the expectations that come with being a part of your life. All the requirements.”
“I never asked you to do any of those things. I never once said you had to stop being you. I wouldn’t want that.” Nick leaned toward Noel, and his hand stroked her neck. “I never expected any of that from you, Noel.”
“Your mother told me and so did your father.” Noel glanced past him toward the window. “I thought it would be unfair to you. There was a certain type of wife that you needed.” Noel stood from the bed and walked toward the bathroom with the sheet around her body.
“The type of wife I needed was you.”
Noel closed her eyes. His words hurt. Her heart hurt. Had she run away because she was fearful of their love? She didn’t want to deal with this now; she didn’t want to discuss their past again. She didn’t believe they could find their way to a future. “I need to go see Nonna.”
Nick was across the room in an instant. His hand grasped both Noel’s wrists, his features a dark cloud filled with passion and certainty. “I could have married a thousand other women by now.”
Noel’s bottom lip trembled. She tore her gaze from his. Why would he be so cruel? Why, after these most intimate moments, these moments of vulnerability and loss, why now would he talk of all his affairs?
“The perfect socialite wife? They grow on trees. They abound in this rarefied world of society. The wealthy are like a factory machine that pumps out the perfect female accessory for a CEO. Do you know why I haven’t picked anyone else? Why I don’t want any of those women? Women that chase me as though they’re jackals and I’m a wounded wildebeest? Do you know why?”
Noel’s heart hammered in her chest. Her bottom lip trembled. Her feet remained in place on the cold black marble floor, and she fought her desire to run. She wanted only to be free. Free of her desires for Nick. Free of his penthouse. Free of the clutch of his hand. Free to not feel these emotions of love and lust and confusion that cascaded through her chest.
“Because, Noel Klaus, I continued to love you.”
Her nostrils flared. She didn’t want him to love her. She didn’t want to love him. Their love was inconvenient.
“I can’t be the wife you need,” Noel said. “I want too much. I have too many things to accomplish.” Her gaze roamed his penthouse bedroom. “This isn’t the life for me.”
“I don’t need this to be our life,” Nick said. “I just need our life to be ours. Do you understand? I want us to be together. I’ll live in a walk-up on the south side if that makes you happier. I don’t want to be without you.”
Noel dropped her eyes. Her heart broke in half. The last time Nick had asked her to share his life with him she’d said no, and her heart had broken. The wound had taken so much time to heal. Hot tears dripped from her eyes and over her cheeks and down her chin as Nick stood there.
His eyes implored her, begged her, to make a different decision this time. A decision that would include a future together.
“Nick,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper. “I’ve been offered a job with Water for People.” She closed her eyes. “It’s in Africa. I’ll be gone for three years.”
Her wrist dropped free, the pressure gone. His head jerked back and he stepped away from her as though she’d hit him, slapped him, or perhaps jabbed him with a jagged knife. The pain in Nick’s eyes shredded the little bits of her heart that remained. Pain jolted through her. What had she done? Why had she done it? She’d been too weak to say no, too in love with him still to walk away from his touch.
“Then this was? What was this?” He squinted and his eyes went from hurt to anger. The hard cold that had been in his eyes the day she’d chained herself to the front door of White Pines had returned to his eyes, as though any part of Nick she might have thawed was closed over and frozen solid once again. Gone was the vulnerability, gone was the love and the desire, now replaced by the hard, cold Nick North.
“Was this a … a ploy? To save your grandmother’s home?” He narrowed his eyes as though he could barely believe she would be so cruel. Didn’t want to believe, but yet that was the only logical explanation his wounded heart and brain could come up with.
“No,” Noel said softly. “I …” Her heart constricted. She turned her gaze to him. How awful, how wrong, how selfish of her. “I still love you.” Breath filled her lungs. “I think …” She turned away, unable to look into his eyes. “I think I will always love you. It’s just …” She looked back at him. “My place isn’t here. I can’t accomplish all I need to do from here. I was selfish—I should have told you that I had been offered the position. I should have—”
He stood tall, his face hard now and without emotion.
“We’ll leave for the hospital when you’re ready.” Nick turned away from her.
“Nick?” she said across the widening distance between them. A distance that she doubted could ever be bridged again. He turned to her and she saw her own pain reflected in his eyes.
“We could have accomplished so much together, Noel. I never wanted you to change. I wanted you to build a life with me. A life for both of us and then eventually a life for our family.”
Noel swallowed back her tears. The lump in her throat grew. Why couldn’t she say yes, why couldn’t she believe that together they would build a life that served them both?
But she couldn’t. This … this money, this power, this place that Nick maintained in the world, was too much for her. She felt swallowed whole by the demands, the char
ity events, the appearances. She wanted a life that effectuated change on a micro scale. She wanted her hands in the dirt, she wanted to get clean water to children, to be in a classroom in Africa, to teach English, to see the light in their eyes as she became part of their lives. Here, high above the city of Chicago, she felt so distant, so above it all, so … just too huge.
“I want to build things with my hands,” Noel said. “I want to make change.”
“Oh, Noel,” Nick said and shook his head, a sad look filtering over his face. A look of surrender, as though he knew this was a battle, a fight, that his words could not win. “I build things every damn day. I offer you a kingdom with which to build the future, and you run from me and my money as though I want to devour you whole. You’re right.” Nick’s tone grew hard. “If you don’t trust that I love you as you were then and as you are now, then there is no future for us. I can see that now. It’s very clear. Who you think I am is not who I’ve ever been.”
He turned from Noel and left her alone and brokenhearted on Christmas Eve, just as she had once left him.
Chapter Twelve
“You can both stop fussing over me, I’m fine,” Nonna said.
Nonna sat on the chair in the living room. Nick kneeled before the fireplace. He wore blue jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. How gorgeous he looked, his muscles taut against the fabric of his shirt, his ass firm against the denim. He looked so normal, building a fire for her and her grandmother. Noel had a sudden desire to kiss him. To lean forward and place her lips on his cheek was what she wanted. But she’d lost that right earlier in the morning. Since their conversation, he was polite to her and warm to Nonna, but a chill hovered around them both.
He placed two logs and an old newspaper and struck a match. Noel walked through the dining room and into the kitchen. Nonna was home for Christmas Eve. It’d taken until well after noon before the paperwork was complete, and now it was nearly dark, but Nonna was home.
“Do you want cinnamon coffee?” Noel asked.
“Yes, please,” Nonna called. “And Nick will have a cup too.”
Noel nodded and forced a small smile to her lips. Noel ground the beans and put them and fresh cinnamon into the coffee press while the hot water came to a boil. When she entered the living room with a tray containing three cups of coffee, a fire was roaring in the fireplace.
“This will chase the chill away,” Nonna said.
Noel handed Nonna her cup of coffee. “After this, do you want to put on pajamas? Maybe the soft flannel ones?”
Noel glanced to where Nick sat in the chair beside Nonna. He returned her gaze, but his eyes held no emotion.
“Pajamas?” Nonna shook her head no and smiled. “Of course not. We have Christmas Eve mass in a few hours.”
“Nonna, you just got out of the hospital. Are you sure you’re up for it? I mean … the church will be packed and—”
“I’ve never missed a Christmas Eve mass, and I won’t begin now. The music, the nativity, it’s my favorite mass of the year.”
Noel took a long, deep breath. She wouldn’t argue with Nonna on this. How many Christmas Eve masses did Nonna have left?
“A little dizzy spell and a bump on the head won’t keep me from celebrating Christmas.” Nonna turned her gaze to Nick. “Will you come with us, Nicholas?”
“To mass?” Nick asked. One of his eyebrows pulled up. His gaze flitted from Nonna to Noel. “Thank you for the invitation, Nonna, but no. I have other plans.”
“Oh.” Nonna settled back into the cushions of her chair. “That’s right. Your mother hosts the North family Christmas Eve dinner. I remember now.” Nonna tilted her coffee cup and took a sip of coffee. “Noel went one year, didn’t she?”
Nonna’s face had a smile, but her eyes contained a hardness, a knowing. After that Christmas Eve, Noel had returned to Nonna’s and cried. She’d cried long, hot tears into Nonna’s shoulder about how she could never be a North. The expectations, the coldness of his family, his mother … The type of woman Nick’s family wanted was not the type of woman Noel would ever be.
Noel pressed her lips tight and shot a pleading look at Nonna. She didn’t want to relive that Christmas Eve, nor did she want Nonna to disclose all the things Noel had said that night as her heart was breaking, the very night she’d decided to end her relationship with Nick.
“Will your sister be there?” Noel asked. Katy North had been one of the bright spots in the entire night. Katy had been home from college and was an absolute dream of a girl. A girl Noel had felt certain she could become friends with.
“She’s spending Christmas Eve with her boyfriend’s family.”
“Must be serious,” Noel said, “if they’re spending Christmas Eve together.”
“Yes,” Nick said. His eyes again held sadness. “It must be.”
Noel looked away from him. She hadn’t even thought before she spoke. Yes, it would be serious, most likely as serious as her relationship had been with Nick when he’d invited her to his family’s Christmas Eve dinner. After which Noel had broken up with him. Nick stood and reached for his coat.
“I must go. Thank you for the coffee.” He pulled the coat on and then walked across the room to Nonna. “I’m so happy you’re feeling better.” He leaned forward and placed a kiss on Nonna’s cheek.
“Nicholas, you won’t forget about tomorrow?”
Nick paused. His gaze went from Nonna to Noel. Noel nodded slightly.
“I’ll be here by noon,” Nick said. He clasped Nonna’s hand in his. “Have a lovely time at mass.”
Noel followed Nick down the hall and toward the door. He turned to face her. His gaze was on her and even with the knowledge that they would soon part, her body wanted his.
“I’ll see you both tomorrow,” Nick said.
“Yes, tomorrow,” Noel said.
He dipped his head but then caught himself, their lips so close and yet not touching. There was magic between them. She smelled the cinnamon mixed with mint on his breath. She wanted his kiss. He slowly pulled away from her, and his gaze swept over her face.
“Tomorrow then.” He pushed open the door and wind blew past them, a heaving force of bright and solid cold. Noel clasped her hands to her forearms and took a step back as Nick burst out into the cold winter night.
*
“Nick, my darling, you look so well!”
He bent down and offered his cheek to his mother. She pressed a kiss to his skin. She was porcelain perfection—her brows could not move, and there was not a crease in her ageless skin. She wore a long midnight-blue dress, and her thick silver hair was in a blunt cut just below her chin. He’d returned to his house and put on a suit, a tie, and cuff links. He couldn’t wear comfortable jeans and a casual long-sleeved T-shirt to his mother’s Christmas Eve party. Unacceptable.
“Thank you, Mother. As do you.” Nick removed his coat and one of his mother’s constantly changing servants took it from him.
“You know Katherine won’t be joining us. Seems she has other plans for the evening.” The cocked eyebrow and roll of his mother’s eyes conveyed her disapproval over his sister’s absence from the family’s Christmas Eve festivities.
“I heard.” Nick accepted a glass of champagne from a server who was circling the party.
“Some teacher she works with at that school. I believe she’s been dating him.” Nick’s mother ran her fingertips over her hair, then clasped the pearl necklace that adorned her neck. “A teacher? Can you believe?”
“Well, Mother, if she’s happy.”
“Of course she’ll be happy. As will he. Spending Katherine’s trust fund while the two of them are paid next to nothing to babysit the next generation of parolees?”
“I see you still hold Katy’s job in high regard,” Nick said.
“Please, Nicholas, it’s Katherine, not Katy. I’ve fought that battle my entire life, and with no help from your sister, I might add.” Sheila North waved her hand and her eyes rolled upward as though she were
searching the ceiling for patience. “What she does for those children is a drop in an ocean of pain. She’d be better served running the Red Cross. Why get down in the dirt when you can effectuate change from above?”
“Maybe she feels as though effectuating change on a case-by-case basis has more heart. More individual impact.”
Nick’s mother shivered. Her lips pulled down as though she smelled something rotten. A sigh crossed her lips and she took a long swallow of her drink.
“Have you met him? Jackson?” Nick asked. “The man Katherine is dating? He’s charming and funny, and he seems to adore her.”
“I’ve declined,” Sheila said. “I assume if it’s serious, I’ll have to.”
“If she’s spending Christmas Eve with his family, then Mother, yes, the relationship is serious. You do understand that, don’t you?” He followed his mother past the myriad assembly of North cousins twice removed, great aunts, and uncles. He nodded and smiled as he and his mother wove through the group that he only saw once, maybe twice, a year.
“Nicholas, we both know that spending Christmas Eve with someone’s family doesn’t always result in a wedding, now don’t we?” Sheila walked toward the doors to the dining room. “Didn’t you bring a girl to dinner one Christmas Eve? What was her name? The wretched thing with the curls and the rather loud liberal mouth?”
Nick’s chest tightened. He pressed his lips together, holding back the words that flew to his mind. He pulled out the chair at the head of the table for his mother.
“Remember? She came your final year of business school and then bolted off to some sub-Saharan desert in Africa, wasn’t it? Your father and I feared she’d be your wife.” Sheila placed her napkin in her lap and tilted her head up toward Nick. “But we lucked out there, didn’t we?”
Nick stepped away from his mother’s chair and walked toward the far end of the table where he was expected to sit. How had he been so foolish that Christmas Eve five years before tonight? He’d brought the woman he loved, cherished, and wanted to make his wife into this viper pit without so much as a warning. No wonder Noel had fled. Hadn’t she most likely hoped that Nick’s mother would at the very least be her friend?
