The Red Diary

by Toni Blake

  She slid one hand beneath the covers and gently stroked him until he was growing, hardening-and waking. "What ... " he murmured in half sleep.

  She rained tiny kisses across the dark dusting of hair on his chest, her hand now wrapped firmly around him below. It struck her how comfortable she felt this quickly, touching him so intimately, waking up beside him. It wasn't like her, and it should feel foreign, strange. But the fact that he'd stayed had somehow changed everything.

  "Mmm," he said.

  "1 want you again," she whispered in the darkness. "Then take me," he breathed.

  Soon she sat astride him, gently impaling herself on him. Not long after, they were coming together, hard and furious, and she was collapsing on his chest and feeling the heaven of his arms falling around her, just before sleep captured them both again.

  Nick lay with his hands behind his head, watching the ceiling fan turn in slow circles. Although the blinds were closed, sunlight filtered through the half-moon window.

  "You're still here."

  He shifted on the pillow to find the beautiful blonde next to him flashing a playful smile. She looked good in the morning. "Yeah," he said. "Was it so bad?"

  "Not so bad." He wasn't sure it had been wise, but it certainly hadn't been bad. In fact, waking to find her naked body next to his beneath the sheets was even better than he'd expected.

  "Do you want breakfast?"

  "Ah," he said, tipping his head back lightly, "staying comes with perks."

  'That's right. Now go down to the kitchen and make it."

  He let out a small laugh as he reached for her, the gesture automatic, unplanned. "I worked hard to keep you happy last night, woman, and you expect me to go make breakfast?"

  Her voice dropped to a coquettish whisper, their faces only inches apart. "I worked pretty hard on you, too around three in the morning.Remember?"

  "Mrnrn, you did do all the work that time."

  "I'm glad we agree then," she said in the same confident tone. "There are some cinnamon rolls in the fridge you can heat in the microwave, and juice glasses are in the cabinet by the sink."

  Conceding the loss, he slowly eased himself out of bed. He didn't bother putting on clothes-the house was secluded enough that he didn't worry about being seen through the windows. And as he moved naked around her kitchen, he realized the last time he'd done anything like this for a woman was ... never. Nick was used to women fawning over him. And sure, the princess fawned in ways, but sometimes she also expected things in return. He wanted to hate that expectation--but at the moment, all he could really do was ask himself how the hell he'd ended up making breakfast for her.

  When he carried a tray of rolls and juice back into the bedroom, he found Lauren sitting up, the covers at her waist. "You look good like that."

  "Like what?" ''Topless.''

  She laughed. "You look good like you are, too." "Naked?"

  She grinned. "Naked and serving me."

  "Sounds like I'm fulfilling a fantasy here or something." He lowered the tray table over her lap, then made his way to the other side of the bed.

  Her expression turned wistful. "Lots of them, actually," she said softly. and his heart beat harder. When he'd brought the rose and other hints of her fantasies into their relationship, he' d been trying to surprise and arouse her, but now it seemed much more pleasurable to just do what he'd said, fulfill her fantasies. The very idea made his blood run hot, but it also reminded him-a huge secret still lay between them.

  Plucking a cinnamon roll from the plate, he used his finger to stop a drop of warm white icing from dripping onto the covers. On impulse, he leaned over and dabbed it onto her pert pink nipple before bending to lick it off. "Mrnrn, more perks," he said, a fresh thread of desire stretching taut inside him.

  She giggled and sighed, and as he looked into her pretty eyes, he had to admit waking up with her was much easier than leaving her. Of course, she probably thought it meant something, his staying, when it didn't. Couldn't. For one thing, she was Henry's daughter, and she always would be. And for another, Nick didn't do relationships with women. If that was next on her list of expectations, she'd be sorely disappointed.

  Despite those thoughts, however. he couldn't fight letting things go where they wanted to, just for the moment. Especially since he'd just watched her dip one long, tapered finger into the icing on her own roll and paint it onto her other beaded nipple. "Have another perk," she nearly purred at him.

  A growl escaped his throat as he leaned to lick her clean, letting his tongue linger and circle until she released a light moan. "How'd that taste?" She lowered her chin provocatively.

  "Damn good," he said, wondering when the princess had become such a vixen.

  An inquisitive smile made its way slowly to her face.

  "So tell me, Nick, do you sleep with a lot of girls on the job or just me?"

  Where had that come from? "Why?" "Just wondering."

  ''Well ... I can't say it's never happened. But it's not common." As the words left him, he realized it would have been simpler to lie and claim total innocence, but it was better to be honest, better to remind her what type of guy he was. "And that condom you had with you the other day ... you had it because ... "

  "Because I'm always careful, like I said." Then he winced. "Before you, I mean."

  She tilted her head. "I was the only time you weren't?"

  He nodded, and was glad she didn't pry into the why part of that, since he didn't have an answer. "Speaking of the other day on the sink-"

  "I was hoping," she interrupted, "we could avoid mentioning the sink." She lowered her eyes as the color in her cheeks deepened.

  "Why?"

  She peeked up at him. "It was just ... a first for me, that's all. In the same way you're not a missionary position kind of guy, I'm not a sink kind of girl."

  He let a slow grin spread across his face. "You just smeared icing on your nipple for me, but now you're gonna play innocent?" He felt a curious heat fill his gaze when he added, "How would you answer Carolyn's question? Where's the most unusual place you've ever done it?"

  She smiled. ''The sink."

  "Before that," he said with a scolding expression. Her cheeks darkened again. "Nothing all that unusual, I'm afraid Carolyn was exaggerating. Cars, back in college ... and a tent, once." She shook her head. "That's really about it prior to the sink. Pretty boring, huh?"

  "Trust me, you don't bore me. But back to the sink ... what were you doing when you hurt your thumb?"

  An abrupt change in topic, he knew, but he ignored her questioning expression as she replied, "Cutting some roses." "And before that?" He supposed he just wanted to know, had wondered ever since he'd met her ...

  "Pulling weeds," she laughed. "Why?"

  He gave her a slight smile. "No reason, really. Just wondered if rich girls did that sort of thing."

  Her mouth dropped open playfully, as if shocked by the implication. "Nick, just because I have money doesn't mean I'm not human."

  "No," he said softly, "guess not." And as he sat gazing at her in bed, he realized maybe that'd been his problem all along-he'd forgotten she might be human underneath the money, underneath the Ash name. Beneath the killer body and long blond locks, she was good and kind, and sometimes the expression in her eyes turned so sweet that, despite himself, it gave him the urge to kiss her. It was like that right now, in fact, so he leaned over, lifted one hand to her silken neck, and drew her into a long, warm kiss laced with cinnamon.

  When it ended, she was smiling. "I like when you're like this."

  "Like what?"

  "When you talk to me."

  Damn. He guessed he had been talking. He hadn't even thought about it, hadn't kept things at that comfortable surface level like he usually did with women. "I'd rather kiss," he said, then slanted his mouth over her sweet lips once more. "We've kissed a lot," she said afterward. "We've only talked a little."

  His chest tightened. He wasn't at ease with the idea of shari
ng his thoughts and feelings-and with Henry's daughter, no less. "I'm ... not much of a talker." He slid back down in the bed until his head found the pillow.

  Her blue eyes shone on him from above. "Sometimes you are. If I hadn't pointed it out just now, you might have talked to me all day."

  He shook his head lightly. What was it with women and talking, anyway? "Just what do you want to talk about so badly?" "Anything. Your business. Your family." She thoughtfully bit her lip. "You could tell me what happened to Davy." He shook his head and replied softly. "No." That was one story he'd never be able to tell. to anyone.

  "I remember him, too-though not as well as I remember you. I think he threw sand in my eyes at one of the company picnics, and your mom yelled at him."

  Nick laughed lightly-that sounded like Davy in those days. "He was kind of a troublemaker when we were kids," he told her. "It's funny-he's still as much a little boy as he was then, but he'd never do something like that now, never hurt anybody. He's always trying to save things, always bringing home injured animals and driving my sister nuts."

  "Your sister?"

  "Elaine. Davy lives with her."

  Lauren nodded, apparently remembering. "Is Elaine married?"

  He shook his head, and though he'd never thought about it before, it struck him as sad. He wasn't the sort of person who wanted that kind of commitment, someone to share your whole life with, but Elaine would probably like that.

  "What kinds of animals has Davy brought home?" "He has a knack for finding birds with broken wings or broken legs. and one day a year or two ago, he spotted a dog that had been hit by a car on Alt 19. Made me stop and get him, but we didn't know what to do with him. We ended up taking him to a vet and spending a lot to get him on the mend. But Elaine didn't want to keep him, so we gave him to a little girl on their street."

  Lauren set the tray off the bed and eased down next to Nick. "Poor Davy. Did he want the dog?"

  "Yeah. Elaine didn't think he'd take care of it, but I think he would've. He's good with animals, good with a lot of things. And he really sees things."

  "What do you mean?"

  He gave his head a slight shake, trying to think how to explain. "He's always pointing out things I'd miss otherwise. Unusual trees or clouds, days when the ocean gets choppy along the causeways. He named my company."

  "Really?"

  "We were walking on Clearwater Beach one night, watching birds dive for fish. I'd just quit painting for James Staley to start my own business, and I asked Davy to think of a name. Quick as that he snapped his fingers-"Davy said I should call it Horizon. He said it would tell people I could turn things all the colors in the sunset. And I hadn't even noticed the sunset, but I looked then, and the sky was orange and purple and pink, practically glowing. We sat down on the sand and just watched it, all swirling and changing as the sun sank. So I named it Horizon for Davy."

  She bit her lip, then leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek. He ignored it, turning away slightly, but slid his arm around her at the same time. Shit, when had she tricked him into talking again?

  Lauren rested her head on his chest, still unable to believe he'd stayed, and they were communicating, like normal people,

  real lovers, and--Oh, the sex. She ached just remembering it, because that had changed, too. While at times just as hot and hard as their previous encounters, it really had been closer to making love. She'd made love before; she knew how it felt, how it could be rough and tender in the same breath. And she didn't know why or how, but things had shifted since yesterday. Nick did have a soul, and he was letting her see it, even if reluctantly.

  In that moment, his words from the night before sprang to mind. Hold on to the back of the chair. And don't let go. So close to her own words-in her journal. A chill rippled through her body, just as it had when he'd spoken them last night. A coincidence? Maybe. But added to everything else-no, she couldn't believe that. And she still didn't know what it meant, but it made her feel all the more attached to him, like she could confide in him.

  "You want to know something?" she asked softly. "Sure."

  ''The night you took me to Fred Howard Beach, it was so dark and isolated that I was a little nervous."

  "I wasn't trying to make you nervous. I just wanted to get you away from that meat market of a party."

  She let a hint of amusement leak through her expression. "Maybe I'm misjudging you, Nick, but you strike me as the sort of guy who would appreciate a good meat market."

  "Meat markets are fine if you want to be in one. You didn't look like you wanted that."

  She lowered her eyes. "I'll admit I've spent a lot of time fending off unwanted attention at parties like Phil's." "Why do you go?"

  "Sometimes it's just a result of ... peer pressure, I guess." She sighed. "Carolyn hounding me, trying to make me feel like I'm boring if I'd rather stay home with my cat than go out and get propositioned thirty times. But sometimes, like the other night, it's sort of a business obligation. Phil is my dad's partner, and I work with him on a regular basis. And when I know my dad and a lot of the other higher-ups at Ash will be there, it becomes a professional thing."

  "Princess," Nick said pointedly, "that was the least professional gathering I've ever been to."

  She tilted her head against the pillow. "Really?"

  He nodded emphatically, and it made her feel a little thick.

  "I guess I don't have much to compare it to. I mean, my dad's get-togethers are always like that, so I just assumed .. ." "They are?" "Yeah."

  "Honey," he said, "my company might not be as big a deal as Ash, but I have a Christmas dinner for my guys and their families every year. We go to Leverock's, eat some seafood, drink some beer, and talk about work or the weather or the football season. It's pretty tame, but a decent night out. And nobody's sneaking off to have sex or anything. At Phil's, on the other hand, I met Carolyn coming out of the bathroom with that guy, Jimmy, and I stumbled onto Phil himself getting it on with somebody."

  She lifted herself onto one elbow. "Jeanne?" That didn't sound like Jeanne. Not at a party, and not as busy as she'd been with the hostessing duties that night.

  Below her, Nick shook his head. "No, not Jeanne. I saw Jeanne. It wasn't her."

  "But .. ." She pulled in her breath. "Then who .. ."

  She shook her head as the shock hit her. "Wait, that's impossible. Phil would never do that."

  "Phil would," Nick said. "Did." Then he winced. "I wouldn't have said anything, but I didn't realize it was a secret. I mean, the door was open."

  Lauren was speechless. She knew Phil was no choir- boy, but ... "You're sure it was him? Absolutely sure?" "Yeah."

  "I ... can't believe it." "A lot of people do it."

  ''Well, that doesn't make it right," she replied, still stunned. "Oh God, poor Jeanne."

  Nick shrugged. "Maybe she knows."

  "No." She and Jeanne weren't close friends, but well enough acquainted that she knew Jeanne thought her marriage was fine. Lauren sat up in bed, nearly beside herself over what she'd just learned. What the hell was Phil thinking? How could he do that to his wife? She clenched her fists as shock and disbelief transformed into anger.

  "Listen," Nick said below her, ''forget I said anything if it bothers you."

  She glanced down at him. "You don't understand. I consider Phil a friend, and I thought I knew him. I thought he was a good person, and a good husband. I don't know if I can forget about it."

  Sliding his arms around her, Nick drew her back down with him, his sexy voice coming low in her ear. "Why don't you let me try to take your mind off it." His hand closed over her breast, and ... mmm, to her surprise, maybe he could take her thoughts elsewhere. Her worry remained in place, but pleasure was slowly surrounding her.

  "Don't think about anything but you and me, Princess," he told her. "Think about this." His free hand found hers and dragged it under the sheets until it rested between his thighs.

  Chapter Twelve

  Laur
en thought she was about as satiated as a woman could be as she zipped toward the Ash offices with her car's top down, the wind whipping through her hair. The last eighteen hours had seemed like something she might have dreamed. Well. okay, if she'd dreamed it, maybe she would have changed a few things. Nick wasn't as warm as her previous lovers. And there wasn't that feeling of knowing you both cared deeply, knowing you were involved in something real and lasting. But she'd certainly gotten much more than she'd ever expected from him. He'd talked to her. And he'd held her while they'd slept. And he'd shown her just how gentle he could be when he wanted to.

  Certain undeniable questions flitted about the edge of her mind. Where would this lead? Would it go on? And the unavoidable one that had to do with her father: Was Nick using her somehow? Did having sex with her make him feel like he was getting back at Henry in some way?

  But she shook her head at her doubts. She'd dived into this headlong, knowing the risks, and she had to face them. Accelerating to merge with the traffic on Route 19, she reached to turn up the radio, letting the music rush through her along with the warm breeze, refusing to let anything bring her down. Because even in its lack of perfection, something about her and Nick, together, simply felt ... magical. Maybe there really was something cosmic connecting them, drawing them together. You're thinking insane things again, she scolded herself, yet it seemed a more plausible explanation for the bizarre twists in their short but frantic relationship every day.

  Of course, heading to the office was putting a slight crimp in her mood. Because she wasn't going for anything business-related, yet it was something she felt she had to do or she wouldn't be able to live with herself. A part of her wished she didn't know about Phil's indiscretion, but now that she did, she couldn't keep it bottled up inside.

  "Oooh, meow," Sadie said when Lauren stepped in the front door in her leopard-print mini. "I'd give my right arm to be able to wear that."

  Lauren laughed. "That's a little extreme, Sadie." "Okay, I'd give my right arm to be able to wear that and to get to fool around with that big, sexy Nick Armstrong."

  "Shush!" Lauren let her eyes go wide. "Keep it down, would you?"