The Other Man (Rose Gold Book 1)

by Nicole French

  I held my hands up in surrender. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I’m sorry, all right? I’m just trying to help your family.”

  “No, you’re not!” Now that Nina had gotten started, she wasn’t stopping. “You didn’t ask me a single question about the two people you’re claiming to help. Any discussion of Eric came as an afterthought, and John Carson didn’t come up once. You took advantage of the fact that I care about my cousin a great deal to lure me to this dinner and force me to—”

  “Force you to what?” I prodded. “Eat fresh pasta and drink some decent wine?”

  “Divulge my life story to a perfect stranger!”

  I took a step back like I’d been slapped in the face.

  “Stranger?” I asked. “I’m a perfect stranger? Is that what you usually say to a man who’s been eight inches deep?”

  Her hand flew out and met my cheek with a crack hard enough to throw my jaw to one side.

  “You,” Nina seethed, “are no gentleman.”

  I worried my jaw, my hand touching the mark she’d no doubt left there. “Baby,” I growled, “you got that right.”

  And then, before I could stop myself, I snaked a hand around her waist and kissed her.

  It wasn’t a nice kiss. Not even close. More like something to take the fuckin’ edge off. Like we were junkies feening for our next hit, and once it was offered all we would do was jab the needle in deep.

  Soon both of us were clawing at each other right there on the street. Mouths feasting, tongues warring, hands grabbing, pawing, smacking at each other. I hadn’t realized how much I needed it until that moment.

  I was tired of talking. It was all just bullshit. I didn’t want to act like a nice guy when I wasn’t. I didn’t want her to pretend she was innocent when she wasn’t.

  We were both angry. Maybe more at ourselves than at each other, if we were being honest. But for the first time all week, maybe in months, that anger had somewhere to go, and the hell if it didn’t feel fuckin’ great.

  “Mmmph!”

  Nina’s fingers gripped at my shirt collar hard enough to choke. That, of course, only turned me on more.

  “Stop.” Her breath was a hiss, shaking her entire body.

  “You stop,” I growled again. “And let me kiss you, goddamn it.”

  But before my mouth could find hers again, she shoved me away. Her own chest heaved with the action, though the hand on my collar couldn’t quite let go. I stared at her lips—swollen, puckered, still dewy from the kiss.

  I stretched out my jaw. “Nina…”

  “I…I…” She was staring at my mouth too, like she was starving and I was the buffet.

  Yeah, baby. I know the feeling.

  I leaned in. The hand at my collar tugged me closer. But right when I was about to hit money all over again, she started to sputter.

  “What—what—we—no!”

  Suddenly, with both hands on my chest now, she pushed hard enough to make me fall back on my heels, then ducked out from under my outstretched arms. Her chest still rose with the effort of each inhale, but she had wrapped her arms across her body like she was barring me from entry to her person.

  “D-don’t chase me. Please, Matthew. Don’t.”

  I considered ignoring her. Christ, lust was ringing in my ears like an entire fuckin’ bell tower. A chorus, not a solo, and deafening at that. But it was the look on her face that stopped me in the end. There was desire, sure—she couldn’t get rid of it that easily. But the heat was written over with fear. Chilling. Cold.

  Nina’s eyes were ice-glazed moons in the night air, blinking steadily, like she hoped she might only be stuck in a dream. Like she was willing herself awake, over and over again.

  Like I was a nightmare.

  I held out my hands. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. Nina, it’s okay.” I spoke slowly, like I was approaching a spooked animal. “Baby, I won’t do anything, all right?”

  “D-don’t call me that.” She stuck out her chin. “I’m not your baby. I’m not anyone’s baby.”

  The bitterness at the end of that sentence punched me in the gut.

  “Oh, really?” I asked. “What about that husband of yours?”

  “Do not bring Calvin into this. Not after that. We are happily married, and you just kissed me!”

  “You really think I believe that? No one kisses another man this way when they’re happy with the one they’ve got!”

  “Fine!” she spluttered. “What do you want me to say? That we can’t stand each other? That we fight like cats and dogs? Would you like me to tell you that he beats me too and ties me to bed posts for fun? That he locks me in a dungeon like a princess just waiting for rescue?”

  My skin prickled. “Is it true?” Just the possibility turned me feral.

  She scoffed like it was an insane notion. “Are you crazy?”

  “Maybe,” I snapped. “I’ve been walking around this city like a fucking ghost for the last two months because the woman of my dreams vanished into thin air.”

  “I’m married, Matthew, not a ghost.”

  “I don’t give a shit!”

  “I’m married,” she said again. “Why can’t you get that through your thick head? I have a husband!”

  I leaned close so she could hear my lowered voice. “Were you thinking of that husband when I was giving it to you up the ass, baby? Or when you were screaming my name to kingdom come?”

  I stepped away with a smirk, too full of myself to be prepared for what was coming.

  Nina’s hand swept across my cheek once more with the heat of a bullet and fury of a house fire.

  I snapped back like a rubber band, hand clutched to the searing spot. “What the hell, Nina! Stop fuckin’ doing that!”

  I won’t lie. This wasn’t the first time a woman had given me exactly what I deserved. Sometimes I even asked for it. Hell, I’d asked her to do it, and like a champ, she had delivered, all night long.

  But this was different. This was the first time I regretted it.

  “I love my family very much!” Nina shouted. “What right do you have to question that? Or are you going to throw my one indiscretion in my face every time I bring them up? You can’t erase them, Matthew, no matter how hard you try!”

  “I—”

  All manner of blithe comebacks rose to my lips, but they faded immediately as I watched Nina’s desperation rise and fall through her body. She was mad, yes. But she was also as confused as I was.

  “Why?” she demanded. “I’m not available for you, Matthew. Why can’t you just leave it alone?”

  “Because I can’t…I can’t stop thinking about you!”

  The words erupted from my chest and propelled me backward onto the steps of a brownstone. I collapsed against the bottom stairs and buried my face in my hands.

  “This is going to sound crazy. But that night, in that hotel room, with you in my arms…Nina, it felt like I had been wandering my entire life and I’d finally found my purpose. Like I had found a, a, a calling, I guess is the best word for it. That action I can do better than any person on the planet. Be with you. Worship you. Love—”

  “Don’t say it.”

  Her voice was kind. Gentle. As gentle as the touch that feathered over my knuckles and pushed my hands away from my face. Wordlessly, she asked me to look at her, to see the earnest admonition there.

  “Don’t say that,” she said. “Not when I’m not worth it. And not when it isn’t true.”

  “You said it,” I replied. “I asked if you believed in love at first sight. And what did you say, Nina?”

  It wasn’t just the sex. I mean, it was. Even lying here, exhausted and depleted, I still wanted her as badly as I had in the bar. Her hair was tangled, skin blotchy from my attentions. She looked as worn out as I was, but somehow, even more beautiful.

  But yeah, it wasn’t just the sex. It was every conversation in between. It was the way she felt when I held her. The twinkle in her eye when she laughed at one of my stupid jokes. Her quiet wit
when she thought I wasn’t listening.

  There was so much more to this woman than I could ever discover in one night. I needed to memorize these final moments. Do everything I could to capture this feeling. I didn’t know if I would ever see her again, but one thing was for sure: I went out looking for something missing in my life, and I had found it. Maybe it wouldn’t last with her, but I wasn’t going to settle for anything less. Not ever again.

  We lay there for a while longer, and eventually, Nina’s eyes drooped shut. Her lashes cast shadows just below her eyes, and her mouth fell open slightly.

  God, she was so beautiful. Relaxed. Perfect.

  “Do you believe in love at first sight?” I wondered as I gazed at her. “Or is that just a story old men tell at the ends of their lives when they wish they’d lived them better?”

  I stroked her sleeping face. She shifted, then nuzzled my palm.

  “Not until tonight,” she hummed. “Until I saw you.”

  “Matthew, stop.”

  I wasn’t exactly a taciturn guy. A lawyer, I made my living with words, twisting them around in a million different ways to make whatever argument I wanted. But with her, I couldn’t twist the logic. And I didn’t want to manipulate her. Ever.

  I couldn’t force her to say the things I wanted to hear.

  Nina took a seat next to me on the steps. “That night…” She shook her head, like she was shaking away cobwebs. “I really do try not to think about it.”

  The admission was a shot to the heart.

  “Wow,” I said. “Okay.”

  “Not for the reasons you might think,” she continued. And when she looked at me, those expressive gray eyes were shining all over again. “Because if I go there, I’m genuinely afraid of what I might do. The way you feel, Matthew…I understand it. I do. There, in that room, it was the first time anyone ever looked at me like you did. You struck down every wall I had. I felt accepted. I felt whole.”

  She reached over tentatively and picked up my hand. That somewhat familiar shock of electricity passed through us again, but neither of us flinched. It was like we were ready for it.

  “You were right,” she said quietly. “That night, I was very unhappy with my marriage. I wasn’t sure I would be able to go back to it. I thought Calvin had done something…”

  “What?” I asked sharply. “What did you think he had done? I’ll find out if he did, Nina—”

  “He didn’t do it. And it’s not important now.”

  I had never been less convinced.

  “Nina,” I said. “The night we met, Eric was in jail. You were wracked with guilt. You felt responsible.”

  She nodded. “Yes, I did.”

  “My cousin,” she said. “His wife. They’re—they’re in danger now. He’s gone, and she’s—” She shook her head, clearly warring with herself. “I can’t really talk about it, but it’s my fault.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean, it’s your fault? Sounds like it was your friend’s fault for almost ruining the wedding, not yours.”

  “It’s not just that,” Nina said. “They’ve mostly recovered from that. But other people close to me…they’ve continued to wreak havoc in their lives. And I’ve done nothing to stop it. Because I’m a coward. Just like my father. My mother. Just like everyone else in my godforsaken family.”

  I blinked as our conversation came back to me. “Who was it?”

  “Who was what?”

  “The person who continued to mess with Eric.” A light went on. “Was it Calvin? Is that why you were angry with him?”

  It made sense. If she thought her own husband had something to do with Eric’s persecution, I could understand why she would have been so upset. I could tell her right now there was nothing she could have done, but she wouldn’t have thought that at the time.

  Which still begged the question: what the hell did her husband do? Maybe he was the key to bringing down John Carson once and for all.

  Nina watched me for a long time. I didn’t move an inch. She was going to tell me what I needed to hear. I knew it.

  “Matthew,” she said, “you can demonize my husband all you want. But that won’t change what he is. My husband.”

  And just like that, my hopes deflated, right along with my self-righteousness. Fuck, I’d be in confession for half a day after this conversation. Because really, who wishes that another man was a criminal just to make his wife available?

  It wasn’t just coveting. It was mental sabotage.

  “That night, I was referring to my friend. You remember, I told you about her.”

  “The one who tried to ruin Eric’s wedding?”

  Nina nodded. “Yes, that’s the one. She was there the night he was arrested. I think she was rather enjoying herself.”

  Fuck. I was a terrible person. A really no-good, fucked-up scumbag. I didn’t deserve a woman like this. Not when I was doing everything I could to make her life sound uglier than it was.

  “You gave me a gift,” she said quietly. “And I am so grateful. Without it, I don’t know if I could have returned to my life.”

  “Yeah,” I muttered as I rubbed my hands over my face. “Okay.”

  “But I did need to go back,” she continued. “To be the mother my daughter needs. To be the person my family needs.”

  She squeezed my hand, then stood up. She brushed off her coat, and it was like we had never been crumpled there on the sidewalk together. The princess of the Upper East Side was back, and she was more immovable than ever.

  I stood too. The evening was over, now that I had royally fucked it up. She was right. About everything.

  It was time to go.

  “I’m sorry about those shitty things I said,” I told her. “It’s not an excuse. I’m just jealous that he got to you first. I’m jealous because I convinced myself I deserved you more. I was wrong.”

  It was the truth. Even if it did hurt like a barbed spear.

  “Oh, Matthew,” Nina said sadly. “You don’t deserve to have me. Not because you’re a bad man, but because I’m just not available to be had.”

  “I don’t want to have you,” I said and suddenly realized it was the truth. “You’re not a fucking object, Nina. You’re not some pretty toy I want to have on my shelf to take down whenever the mood strikes me. You’re a person. I just…wanted to know you. Because you are worth knowing, doll. I don’t know much, but I do know that.”

  I must have hit a nerve, because suddenly she turned, and her eyes shone brighter than the rock on her finger, silvery and wet under the night sky.

  She cleared her throat a little too loudly. “Well. It seems I’m letting everything go tonight. I’ve answered all your questions, Matthew. Is there anything else you want to know? My bank account numbers? Maybe my social?”

  Everything, I wanted to say. Anything. I want to know what you look like when you wake up in the morning. I want to know if you prefer coffee or tea. I want to know what kind of eggs are your favorite and whether you say prayers before you fall asleep and if you’d ever think about walking away from this life to be with a poor fuckin’ nobody like me.

  “Just—just one thing,” I lied. And maybe I shouldn’t have asked at all. But I had to know. I suddenly needed the answer like I needed my next breath. “Is he good to you?”

  Nina stared like she hadn’t understood the question.

  And then, to my utter fucking horror, she burst into tears.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I scrambled across the sidewalk, shooting glares at people clearly wondering just what the hell I had done to make the girl cry.

  Without thinking, I gathered Nina close, cradling her between my arms, stroking her hair, urging her face into my shoulder so I could soak up every morsel of pain she was currently feeling. Fuck. Fuck. Normally it wasn’t like this. I was an asshole, sure, which was why I made do with other assholes. Other men’s girlfriends, wives, who had even fewer scruples than I did.

  I didn’t even care about kissing her anymore. I was just
glad I could hold her again, even if it was to offer her comfort against what I had already done.

  How fucked up was I?

  “Shhh,” I crooned. “I’m sorry, baby. It’s going to be okay.”

  Nina hiccupped and swiped under both eyes with quick, vicious movements. Then slowly, she disentangled herself from me with a long sigh.

  “Sometimes,” she said. “I do forget. What it’s like to have someone who…cares. I don’t have many friends these days, you see. The cost of coloring outside the lines of my set, as it were.”

  “You mean what happened with your other friend?” I asked. “The one who liked Eric?”

  “Turned the rest of them against me.” She pulled a compact out of her purse, took a look at herself, and sighed again with resignation. “Look at me. Like a bloated punching bag.”

  She looked fucking beautiful.

  Bitches, I thought. Catty shrews, all of them.

  “You need a friend, doll?” I asked gently.

  More tears appeared, and though she sniffed them back, a few still managed to escape, then a few more when I wiped the first off her cheek with my thumb. For a moment, she closed her eyes, almost like she wanted to lean into my touch.

  But she didn’t. And against every instinct I had, I pulled my hand away.

  “Friend,” she murmured. “Really? Would you be friends with someone who slapped you twice in one night?”

  “I’ve been friends with a lot worse,” I offered, trying to sound as light-hearted as I could. “I’ll be your friend, Nina. You need one, let me do the job. Please. It’s the least I can do after what I’ve put you through.”

  She offered a shaky smile as she pushed one final tear from her cheek. “Just friends?”

  I bit back a cheeky grin. “Just friends. I promise.”

  She examined me for a moment. “All right. Friends.”

  We looked at each other across the pavement for a long time. I waited with her while she called a car to pick her up, but decided not to pressure her anymore. I didn’t want to break Nina de Vries. If anything, I yearned to make her stronger. I wanted to see that fight in her again. And I was patient enough to wait for it.