by Cait London
In his darkened room, Nick stripped away his clothing and stepped into the shower, letting the water sluice over him, praying that it would take away his need to hold Silver. Drying quickly and wrapping a towel around his hips, Nick braced himself for a long, lonely remainder of the night and his grandmother’s tongue-lashing in the morning. He took one last look in the steamy bathroom mirror and shook his head. Nick recognized his father’s ability to charm, and beneath it all a savage, raw power to possess.
Every year of his life lodged wearily in his bones, every dirty deal his father had committed, including the murder of the Tallchief parents, and the filth that he and his brothers had crawled from, fought to escape. He knew how to survive; he was a predator. Silver deserved—
Silver flung open his bedroom door, eyed him and stepped into the room, slamming the door behind her. Covered by his dress shirt and nothing else, she braced her fists on her waist, tightening the material around her body. “Finally. You’ve come home.”
Nick locked his body, forbidding it to reach out and take her into his arms. He forced himself not to look at her long legs, outlined in the dim light, the thrust of her breasts against the material, that dark band of her briefs. Tired and vulnerable to this woman, he jerked up his defenses.
She sniffed delicately, then stalked across the room to sniff his jaw and throat. “You showered, but it’s still there.”
“What is?” His need of her? His past? Nick’s mouth dried as he caught her scent, the quiver of her breasts beneath the light fabric. He wanted to—hell, no, he wasn’t grabbing for her. His body had hardened immediately at the first sight of her, and her breath upon his skin had caused his entire system to hike into “Alert.”
“That newscaster-woman kissed you.”
“She’d gotten a good story. She was thanking me.” He placed his hand on her chest, fought the need to lower it to her breast and held her away from him. He needed time—
“She was trying to suck you—Nick, you’re hurt.” Silver blinked up at him, her eyes widening as her finger traced the scratch along his jaw. She looked down at her hand, the smear of blood on her skin, and suddenly hurled herself into his arms.
Reeling back from the impact of her body, Nick realized that Silver’s long legs gripped his waist. Clutching his hair in her fists, she covered his face with kisses. Just when Nick had adjusted to the happy-dizzy grin that began inside him and spread to other parts of his body, and his hands began lowering to cup her bottom, Silver dropped away lightly, agilely from him.
She scanned his body, eyes widening at the purple bruise along his side, caused by an unfriendly rock. “Oh! Oh!”
She hurried to kiss the bruise, and when Nick sucked in his breath, his body hard and aching, his limbs shaking, Silver tugged his hands toward her. She turned up his palms where rope bums formed thick pink stripes across his skin. “Oh, Nick...”
The tenderness with which she drew his palms to her lips, kissing them, frightened him. He stood very still, heart racing, aware that no one had ever tended him so earnestly.
“Don’t you move. Stand right there.” Silver hurried to the bathroom, retrieving an ointment tube and a roll of gauze. She smeared the salve gently onto his palms and smoothed it with her fingertip. “I wish I had time to mix an herbal salve for you, but this commercial brand will do for now.”
She glanced up at him. “You’re shaking, Nick. You’re uncertain and vulnerable now, just because I’m caring for you. I know that you were never touched like this, that your mother died when you were very young. When you three were struggling to survive, Rafe and Joel did what they could, but you don’t know how to take tenderness when it is meant just for you. I like tending you, putting my hands on you. I’d like to cut your hair—it’s gotten too long and you’re looking as if no one cares about you. Well, I do. I care very much what happens to you, apart from Palladin, Inc.’s investment in me.”
She leaned to kiss his chest lightly, then continued her ministrations to his hands. “You jumped, just then, shocked by affection. You act so surprised and unworthy, so humble. It’s part of your appeal, that helpless little boy beneath all that grim, macho aura. I almost wish I were pregnant with a little boy like you—You’ve got to clear that with Mamie—Though I doubt I’d have any resistance at all to him, just like I don’t have when you—Never mind about that now.”
She capped the ointment bottle briskly and began rolling gauze around his hands, taping them securely. “That should do for now.... On the other hand, I’m very angry with you. I know where you’ve been—” The flat of her hands hit him on the chest, hard; the back of his knees hit the bed and Nick went sprawling over it.
He lurched to his feet, a little mortified that a woman had unbalanced him, and found Silver’s shaking finger beneath his nose. “You’ve been out there—dinging yourself around a rock bluff, having a magnificent time while I worried about you. Oh, no, not a word to me about leaving—oh, you’re really in for it now. There you were on television, swinging from your helicopter on the truck, to the ground. You’re not agile, Nick. You’re built for power and endurance, not for swinging from limbs. I could have helped you, you jerk. You made my nose stuff up when I cried. A ‘Nose’ can’t afford that. You could ruin my career, but most of all you stopped my heart—the sight of you all muddy and clothing ripped. You protect everyone but yourself, Nick.”
She wove slightly to the left, blinked and frowned at him. “You can’t put me under your wing, Nick. I know what I want, and I’m going to get it. You are not stuffing up my nose again, got it?”
A delicate hiccup preceded her nose nuzzling his damp chest. She swayed backward and lifted her hand to run it through his wet hair, fisting it. “All this honor staff, Nick...it’s really outdated. Not that I don’t appreciate the effort, but I’m certain that I’m not a fallen woman, just because you and I made love. I wanted you. I took you. It was as simple as that. You are not obligated to many me.”
Nick was too tired and vulnerable to match wits with the woman he wanted to hold in his arms. The idea that she could knock him off balance still nettled him. The concept that she wasn’t exactly welcoming his first foray into marriage irritated him. Tempers and emotions at a bargaining table were useless.... Nick inhaled abruptly. The image of himself as the bargain spread on the negotiating table was a little humiliating. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
But Silver was gaping at his lower body. “You’re naked. All of you.” She took in his body from feet to head, running her fingertip downward until Nick eased it away. “You’re magnificent... a gangster, a pirate. You can’t have my ship, and Mamie is going to be very disappointed when her great-grandchild isn’t on the way.”
She held her head in her hands. “It’s all so sad. Poor Mamie.”
“Are you going to be sick?” Nick asked cautiously as she fumbled with the button at her throat.
“No, but Mamie’s heart could give out at any minute. She doesn’t qualify for a transplant, and the doctor said that the slightest upheaval could be fatal. Don’t tell her about the nonbaby, Nick.”
Nick frowned and helped Silver ease the shirt from her. His mouth dried at the sight of her curved, warm body, the delicate flow of her rounded hips into the V of her thighs. He closed his eyes, sniffing delicately at Silver’s scent. There were advantages in developing his sense of smell. He remembered the scent of their lovemaking, of her arousal, and shuddered. “Mamie told you that?”
His eyes opened when she pushed her nose into the hollow of his throat, looped her arms around his neck and nuzzled him. “Poor sweet Nick. Just trying to make his grandmother’s last days happy. I would have understood that, Nick.”
“I think my grandmother will be fine, sweetheart,” Nick said above her head as the enticing scent took her nose lower. He sucked in his stomach as she nuzzled his navel, sniffing his wonderful scent.
His hands clamped on her shoulders, stilling her. “Take it easy with that nose.”
<
br /> “I like her. We’re not going to let anything happen to her, are we, Nick? She’s raised you and your brothers, struggled with you—” Silver raised to tap Nick on the nose with her finger. “You were always in trouble, Nick, and she worried most about you. She’s delicate, you know. Always has been. You were a burden, but her son—your father—that must have been awfuL”
“It was. Nothing is going to happen to Mamie, sweetheart.” Nick lifted Silver to pour her into his bed. He stretched out beside her, and before he could escape, Silver wiggled upon him, getting more comfortable.
“I like you trapped where I can know that you are safe. The newscaster said that one spark could set off a fire and you’d be—Your grandmother was worried, watching the broadcast with me, and we shared a bit more champagne. She said you were a fierce little boy, stubborn and contrary, and leaping in to defend your brothers. When arguing wish her wouldn’t work, you used your charm, that whimsical little-boy smile. It still works.... Don’t rock the boat,” Silver muttered as Nick pulled the black satin sheet over her back. She caught his hands, ached at the sight of the bandages, kissing them. Nick cared so much about other people, and little for his own needs. “I was so worried about you.”
Nick’s voice was very deep and uneven. “I’m safe. Go to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
His hands slid up and down her back, the caress comforting, and Silver snuggled upon him. There was one need she knew that Nick took very seriously, greedily—his need of her. She tapped his nose lightly. “You need me, don’t you, Nick?”
His heart thudded heavily beneath her breast and when he spoke, it was very carefully. “Very much. You complete me.”
“Likewise. But you can be irritating, and I didn’t like being dumped in that horse watering trough. A nose has to be very careful, and a cold can ruin a reputation.” She sniffed lightly at his ear and he inhaled sharply as she tasted the contour with a flick of her tongue.
She dragged her breasts across his chest experimentally and Nick shuddered, his hands opening and closing on her bottom. Silver lifted to study him. “Nick, you’re flushed and warm. We’ll have to do the best we can without those pearls, Nick.”
Nick tensed, his expression grim. “If you want pearls instead of the rubies—”
She waved her hand high in the air, studying the glittering bloodred rubies. “Nah. I love them. I love you. You need me.”
“I really think we should get some sleep.” Nick couldn’t move, stunned by Silver’s admission. He decided to be gallant and not pursue a commitment she might regret. An athletic, health-conscious woman, a nondrinker, Silver was likely influenced by the champagne.
Still. Nick gathered the precious words into him, hoarded them. He’d never been told he was loved, not even casually. Mamie had looked at him with tenderness, but in her hurried struggle to maintain a corporation and to raise the unruly youths, she had not voiced her affection. Silver had just provided him with a unique, somewhat shattering, woozy emotion.
He struggled to collect himself as Silver braced her arms on his chest and toyed with his hair, combing it through her fingers. “I would really like to trim this—”
She kissed his lips lightly, ran her open mouth along the hard bottom contour and across the top one. “You’ve heard that before, haven’t you? Those three little words.”
“No, but I like the sound of it,” he said warily. Strange what those words could do to a man, almost disabling every logical thinking process. He focused on logic—waiting until the morning, having a logical discussion with Silver about their relationship, making himself appealing to her—Nick sucked in his breath and stared at the woman rubbing her nose against the hair on his chest.
Silver inhaled his fragrance, bringing it into her. Perfect. Masculine, yet vulnerable. A gallant man struggling with his emotions. Nick was perfect, sweet, shy, adorable. He could look so boyish, but right now he looked like a big, dangerous challenge, a very fit, tanned playground. He loved his grandmother. He was gentle. Love burst out of Silver like flowers and sunshine. “I love you, I love you, I love you....”
She glanced downward, found him hard and thrusting against her stomach. She stared, fascinated, at the difference between them and touched him lightly with her fingertip. He groaned unsteadily, as though the sound was torn from him. She was just moving down to explore him further when Nick shuddered again and eased her upward and to his side. He turned to her, covered her shoulder with the satin sheet. After a lengthy pause, Nick said, “I’m glad you came to me tonight.”
Silver smiled softly. She realized that Nick was uneasy with sharing his emotions and that he wanted to say exactly the right thing. She snuggled against him. “You need me. On the television, I saw the desperation on your face, those haunting eyes, and I knew that you needed me.... Nick, I think I may have inherited a little of my ancestors’ seer and shaman talents.”
“You may have, but I’ve needed you all my life. I’ve waited for you.”
His admission came slowly, as if the words were rusty and uncared for, afraid of light and tenderness. She’d had a family who loved easily, sharing it, but Nick’s life had been cold—She caressed his chest and allowed her band to wander downward. Nick sucked in his breath and caught her hand, drawing it up to his lips.
“We’ll work out our relationship, Silver,” he began carefully. “I know this is too soon for you—”
“Stop troubleshooting and negotiating. You smell quivery... unstable, your basic notes are trembling like tiny antennae. The top, distinctive note is your insecurity about me. The middle note is that you’re feeling guilty. You want to apologize for your gangster-pirate act, your attempt at takeover. You’re sorry. How sweet.”
He glowered at her, a male who had always concealed his more tender emotions, suddenly exposed as sweet. “I am not insecure, and the attempt was successful. I am rarely called sweet.”
“You are uncertain and shy. Nick, don’t be afraid to show your feminine side with me...don’t act prickly and wary and arrogant, because I know it’s all a cover-up. Tough-guy time is over, Nicholas Palladin. You are shy of me.” She grinned at him, suddenly outrageously happy. Nick wanted her desperately and she was flying, powerful, filled with awe. “Are too.”
“Am not.”
Then he grinned slowly, magnificently confident, and Silver couldn’t resist. She slid her hand downward, curled her fingers and captured him. Nick sucked air, his body stiffening immediately. He shuddered. “Careful.”
Silver laughed with delight, her emotions tumbling into desire. “I want you,” she cried out fiercely, and launched herself against him, locking her arms around his shoulders and her legs across his, her face mashed to his.
Nine
“Silver, wait—” Nick wanted to reassure Silver that he wouldn’t hurt her. He wondered then if the son of Lloyd Palladin could make that promise—
Then Silver placed him inside her, that moist, clinging, tight sheath, and her tiny constrictions took him deeper. The fantastic sounds of her arousal shook him. She was already flowing, heating over him, her breasts dragging erotically against his chest—In an effort to slow her, to control his almost bursting body, Nick reached for her wrists and she pushed against him, her hips thrusting against his. Turning her, Nick realized too late that they were on the edge of the bed. He twisted his body as they slid down the satin sheets onto the lush carpeting. He turned again, protecting Silver, covering her with his body, as he deflected the lamp that had been caught by Silver’s flaying hand. It crashed a distance away from them.
“Make me hear bagpipes, Nick.” Silver whispered desperately.
Nick shook his head, toying to understand. He’d heard his heart thunder when he made love to Silver, he’d heard the music of her sighs, but—“What?”
“Bagpipes. Mamie said you played them. Oh, Nick. I’d love to hear you play—”
“Mamie talks too much,” he managed to say before Silver’s tongue slid across his lips, and he pl
unged into the hot, hungry kiss, meeting her.
A heartbeat later, as Silver’s agile body recaptured his, her arms locked around his neck and her legs drew him up tight inside her, a soft but persistent knock sounded on Nick’s door. He groaned, passion racking him as Silver’s body went taut beneath him—“Yes?”
“Nick?” Silver whispered desperately, her expression a mix of panic, frustration and desire. Her nails lightly raked down his back, and instinctively Nick found her breast, gently biting it—with a cry, she bolted high against him, arms flying over her head to latch onto the nightstand. He deflected the champagne glass tumbling toward them, and it crashed against the door.
The knock sounded again, louder this time.
In an attempt to soothe Silver, who was racing on without him, Nick placed his hand on her breast, caressing the softness. She groaned shakily, and he knew that for the moment, the doo-wop boys were far behind his lead. Her body tightened again, tiny constrictions enveloping him and Silver reached for a pillow, jamming it over her face. Her muffled, frustrated cry delighted him.
“Are you all right, sir?” Mamie’s elderly butler asked on the other side of the bedroom door.
Nick couldn’t be finer, buried deep inside Silver’s thrashing, hot body, her frantic muffled sounds exciting him. In an effort he considered heroic, as her tiny muscles began to squeeze him again, Nick managed to say unevenly, “I’m fine.”
“Very well, sir. Breakfast at six, as you asked.”
“Make that, ah, later.”
Nick tugged the pillow away from Silver’s flushed face and found her mouth, taking it with a hungry desperation he couldn’t stop. Silver loved him. Everything was going to be just fine.
