The Stanislaski Series Collection, Volume 1

by Nora Roberts

  Too many, he admitted. Something about the lady had hooked him, and Zack wasn’t sure whether he wanted to pry himself loose or be reeled in.

  And the last thing he should be doing now was thinking of his libido, he reminded himself. He had to think about Nick.

  Obviously Rachel’s brother was resisting, but she wasn’t taking no for an answer. When she switched to heated Ukrainian, Zack reached over to toy with the spitting cobra in the center of the coffee table. It drove him crazy when she talked in Ukrainian.

  “Tak,” she said, satisfied that she’d worn Alex down. “I owe you one, Alexi.” She laughed, a rich, and full-blooded laugh that sent heat straight to Zack’s midsection. “All right, all right, so I’ll owe you two.” Zack watched her hang up and cross long legs covered in a hunter-green material that was silky enough to whisper seductively when her thighs brushed together. “Alex and his partner are going to cruise around, check out some of the Cobras’ known haunts. They’ll let us know if they see him.”

  “So we wait?”

  “We wait.” She rose and took a fresh legal pad from a drawer. “To pass the time, you can fill me in a little more on Nick’s background. You said his mother died when he was about fifteen. What about his father?”

  “His mother wasn’t married before.” Zack reached automatically for a cigarette, then remembered. Recognizing the gesture, Rachel rose again and found a chipped ashtray. “Thanks.” Relieved, he lit a cigarette, cupping his fingers around the tip out of habit. “Nadine was about eighteen when she got pregnant, and the guy wasn’t interested in family. He took off and left her to fend for herself. So she had Nick and did what she could. One day she came into the bar looking for work. Dad hired her.”

  “How old was Nick?”

  “Four or five. Nadine was barely making ends meet. Sometimes she couldn’t get a sitter for him, so Dad told her to bring the kid along and I’d watch him. He was okay,” Zack said with a half smile. “I mean, he was real quiet. Most of the time he’d just watch you like he was expecting to get dumped on. But he was smart. He’d just started school, but he could already read, and he could print some, too. Anyway, a couple months later, Nadine and my father got married. Dad was about twenty years older than she was, but I guess they were both lonely. My mother’d been dead for more than ten years. Nadine and the kid moved in.”

  “How did you…how did Nick adjust?”

  “It seemed okay. Hell, I was a kid myself.” Restless again, he rose to pace. “Nadine bent over backward trying to please everyone. That’s the way she was. My father…he wasn’t always easy, you know, and he put a lot of time into the bar. We weren’t a Norman Rockwell kind of family, but we did okay.” He glanced back at her photographs, surprised at the quick twinge of envy. “I didn’t mind the kid hanging around me. Much. Then I joined the navy, right out of high school. It was kind of a family tradition. When Nadine died, it was hard on Nick. Hard on my father. I guess you could say they took it out on each other.”

  “Is that when Nick started to get into trouble?”

  “I’d say he got into his share before that, but it got worse. Whenever I’d get back, my father would be full of complaints. The boy wouldn’t do this, he did that. He was hanging around with punks. He was looking for trouble. And Nick would skulk off or slam out. If I said anything, he’d tell me to kiss his—” He shrugged. “You get the picture.”

  She thought she did. A young boy unwanted by his father. He begins to admire his new brother, and then feels deserted by him, as well. He loses his mother and finds himself alone with a man old enough to be his grandfather, a man who couldn’t relate to him.

  Nothing permanent in his life—except rejection.

  “I’m not a psychologist, Zack, but I’d say he needs time to trust that you mean to stay part of his life this time around. And I don’t think taking a firm hand is wrong. In fact, I think that’s just what he’d understand from you, and respect in the long run. Maybe that just needs to be balanced a bit.” She sighed and set her notes aside. “Which is where I come in. So far, I’ve been just as rough on him. Let’s try a little good-cop/bad-cop. I’ll be the sympathetic ear. Believe me, I understand hotheads and bad boys. I grew up with them. We can start by—” The phone rang and she snagged it. “Hello. Uh-huh. Good. That’s good. Thanks, Alex.” She could see the relief in Zack’s eyes before she hung up. “They spotted him on his way back to the bar.”

  Relief sparked quickly into anger. “When I get my hands on him—”

  “You’ll ask, in a very reasonable fashion, where he was,” Rachel told him. “And to make certain you do, I’m going with you.”

  * * *

  Nick let himself into Zack’s apartment. He figured he’d been pretty clever. He’d managed to slip in and out of the kitchen without setting off Rio’s radar. The way they were watching him around here, he thought, he might as well be doing time.

  Everything was going wrong, anyway. He ducked into the kitchen and, since Zack wasn’t around to say any different, opened a beer. He’d just wanted to check in with the guys, see what was happening on the street.

  And they’d treated him like an outsider.

  They didn’t trust him, Nick thought resentfully as he swigged one long swallow, then two. Reece had decided that since he’d gotten out so quickly, he must have ratted. He thought he’d convinced most of the gang that he was clean, but when he’d spilled the whole story—from how he’d been caught to how he’d ended up washing dishes in Zack’s bar, they’d laughed at him.

  It hadn’t been the good, communal laughter he’d shared with the Cobras in the past. It had been snide and nasty, with T.J. giggling like a fool and Reece smirking and playing with his switchblade. Only Cash had been the least bit sympathetic, saying how it was a raw deal.

  Not one of them had bothered to explain why they’d left him hanging when the cop showed up.

  When he’d left them, he’d gone by Marla’s place. They’d been seeing each other steadily for the past couple of months, and he’d been sure he’d find a sympathetic ear, and a nice warm body. But she’d been out—with somebody else.

  Looked as though he’d been dumped again, all around. Nothing new, Nick told himself. But the sting of rejection wasn’t any easier to take this time.

  Damn it, they were supposed to be his family. They were supposed to stick up for him, stand by him, not shake him loose at the first hint of trouble. He wouldn’t have done it to them, he told himself, and heaved the empty beer bottle into the trash, where it smashed satisfactorily. No, by God, he wouldn’t have done it to them.

  When he heard the door open, he set his face into bored lines and sauntered out of the kitchen. He’d expected Zack, but he hadn’t expected Rachel. Nick felt a heat that was embarrassment and something more try to creep up into his cheeks.

  Zack peeled off his jacket, hoping he had a firm grip on his temper. “I guess you’ve got a good reason why you skipped out this afternoon.”

  “I wanted some air.” Nick pulled out a cigarette, struck a match. “There a law against it?”

  “We had an agreement,” Zack said evenly. “You were supposed to check with me before you went out, and tell me your plans.”

  “No, man. You had an agreement. Last I looked it was a free country and people could go for a walk when they felt like it.” He gestured toward Rachel. “You bring the lawyer to sue me, or what?”

  “Listen, kid—”

  “I’m not a kid,” Nick shot back. “You came and went as you damn well pleased when you were my age.”

  “I wasn’t a thief at your age.” Incensed, Zack took two steps forward. Rachel snagged his arm.

  “Why don’t you go down and get me a glass of wine, Muldoon? The kind you served me the other night will do just fine.” When he tried to shake her off, she tightened her grip. “I want a moment alone with my client, so take your time.”

  “Fine.” He bit off the word before he stalked to the door. “Whatever she says, pal, yo
u’re on double KP next week. And if you try to sneak off again, I’ll have Rio chain you to the sink.” He gave himself the sweet satisfaction of slamming the door.

  Nick took another puff on his cigarette and dropped onto the couch. “Big talk,” he muttered. “He’s always figured he could boss me around. I’ve been on my own for years, and it’s time he got that straight.”

  Rachel sat down beside him. She didn’t bother to mention that she could smell the beer on his breath and he was underage. Why hadn’t Zack seen the raw need in Nick’s eyes? Why hadn’t she seen it before?

  “It’s tough, having to move in here after having a place of your own.”

  Her voice was mild, and without censure. Nick squinted through the smoke. “Yeah,” he said, cautiously. “I can hack it for a couple of months, I guess.”

  “When I first moved out, I was a little older than you—not much. I was excited, and scared, and lonely. I wouldn’t have admitted to lonely if my life had depended on it. I’ve got two older brothers. They checked up on me constantly.” She laughed a little. Nick didn’t crack a smile. “It infuriated me, and it made me feel safe. They still get on my back, but I can usually find a way around them.”

  Nick stared hard at the tip of his cigarette. “He’s not my real brother.”

  Oh, Lord, he looked young, she thought. And so terribly sad. “I suppose that would depend on your definition of real.” She laid a hand on his knee, prepared for him to shrug her off, but he only switched his gaze from his cigarette to her fingers. “It’d be easier for you to believe he doesn’t care, but you’re not stupid, Nick.”

  There was a hot ball in his throat that he refused to believe was tears. “Why should he care? I’m nothing to him.”

  “If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t yell at you so much. Take it from me—I come from a family where a raised voice is a sign of unswerving love. He wants to look out for you.”

  “I can look out for myself.”

  “And have been,” she agreed. “But most of us can use a hand now and again. He won’t thank me for telling you all this, but I think you should know.” She waited until he raised his eyes again. “He’s had to take out a loan to pay for the stolen property and the damages.”

  “That’s bull,” Nick shot back, appalled. “Did he lay that trip on you?”

  “No, I checked on it myself. It seems old Mr. Muldoon’s illness drained quite a bit of his savings, and Zack’s. Zack’s gotten the bar back on a pretty solid footing again, but he didn’t have enough to swing the costs. A man doesn’t put himself out like that for someone he doesn’t care about.”

  The sick feeling in Nick’s gut had him crushing out the cigarette. “He just feels obligated, that’s all.”

  “Maybe. Either way, it seems to me you owe him something, Nick. At least you owe him a little cooperation over the next few weeks. He was scared when he came looking for me tonight. You probably don’t want to believe that, either.”

  “Zack’s never been scared of anything.”

  “He didn’t come right out and say it, but I think he believed you’d taken off for good, that he wasn’t going to see you again.”

  “Where the hell would I go?” he demanded. “There’s nobody—” He broke off, ashamed to admit there was no one to go to. “We made a deal,” he muttered, “I’m not going to skip.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. And I’m not going to ask you where you went,” she added with a faint smile. “If I did, I’d have to put it in my report to Judge Beckett, and I’d rather not. So we’ll just say you went out for some air, lost track of the time. Maybe the next time you feel like you’ve got to get out, you could call me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I know how it feels when you need to break loose.” He looked so lost that Rachel skimmed a hand through his hair, brushing it back from his face. “Lighten up, Nick. It’s not a crime to be friends with your lawyer, either. So what do you say? You give me a break and try a little harder to get along with Zack, and I’ll do what I can to keep him off your back? I know all kinds of tricks for handling nosy older brothers.”

  Her scent was clouding his senses. He didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed before how beautiful her eyes were. How deep and wide and soft. “Maybe you and I could go out sometime.”

  “Sure.” She saw the suggestion only as a breakthrough in trust, and she smiled. “Rio’s a terrific cook, but once in a while you just got to have pizza, right?”

  “Yeah. So I can call you?”

  “Absolutely.” She gave his hand a quick squeeze. When his hand tightened over hers, she was only mildly surprised. Before she could comment, Zack was pushing the door open again. Nick jumped up as if he were on a string.

  Zack passed Rachel her wine, then handed Nick the ginger-ale bottle he had hooked under one finger. Taking his time, he twisted off the top of the beer he had hooked under another. “So, did you two finish your consultation?”

  “For now.” Rachel sipped her wine and lifted a brow at Nick.

  It wasn’t easy, especially after what she’d told him Zack had done, but Nick met his brother’s eyes. “I’m sorry I took off.”

  The surprise was so great that Zack had to swallow quickly or choke on his beer. “Okay. We can work out a schedule so you can have more free time.” What the hell did he do now? “Uh…Rio could use some help swabbing down the kitchen. Things usually break up early on Sunday nights.”

  “Sure, no problem.” Nick started for the door. “See you, Rachel.”

  When the door closed, Zack dropped down beside her, shaking his head. “What’d you do, hypnotize him?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Well, what the hell did you say to him?”

  She sighed, tremendously pleased with herself, and settled back. “That’s privileged information. He just needs someone to stroke his bruised ego now and again. You two may not be biological brothers, but your temperament’s very similar.”

  “Oh.” He settled back, as well, swinging an arm around the top of the couch so that he could play with her hair. “How’s that?”

  “You’re both hotheaded and stubborn—which is easy for me to recognize, as I come from a long line of the same.” Enjoying the wine and the quiet, she let her eyes close. “You don’t like to admit you made a mistake, and you’d rather punch your way out of a problem than reason it through.”

  “Are you trying to say those are faults?”

  She had to laugh. “We’ll just call them personality traits. My family is ripe with passionate natures. And what a passionate nature requires is an outlet. My sister Natasha had dance, then her own business and her family. My brother Mikhail has his art. Alexi has his quest to right wrongs, and I have the law. As I see it, you had the navy, and now this bar. Nick hasn’t found his yet.”

  He brushed a finger lightly over the nape of her neck, felt the quick quiver that ran through her. “Do you really consider the law enough of an outlet for passion?”

  “The way I play it.” She opened her eyes, but the smile that had started to curve her lips died away. He’d shifted, and his face was close—much too close—and his hands had slipped down to her shoulders. The warning bell that rang in her brain had come too late. “I’ve got to get home,” she said quickly. “I’ve got a nine-o’clock hearing.”

  “I’ll take you in a minute.”

  “I know the way, Muldoon.”

  “I’ll take you,” he said again, and something in his tone made it quite clear that he wasn’t talking about walking her to her door. He tugged the wineglass out of her hand and set it aside. “We were talking about passionate natures.” His fingers skimmed up through her hair, fisted in it. “And outlets.”

  In an automatic defensive gesture, her hand slammed against his chest, but he continued to draw her closer. “I came here to help you, Muldoon,” she reminded him as his mouth hovered dangerously above hers. “Not to play games.”

  “Just testing your theory, Counselor.” He nipped lightly a
t her lower lip, once, twice. When that teasing sample stirred the juices, he crushed his mouth to hers and devoured.

  She could stop him. Of course she would stop him, Rachel told herself. She knew how to defend herself against unwanted advances. The trouble was, she hadn’t a clue as to how to defend herself against advances she didn’t want to want.

  His mouth was so…avid. So impatient. So greedy. She wondered if he would swallow her whole. He used lips and tongue and teeth devastatingly. If there was an instant, some fraction of a heartbeat, when she could have resisted, it passed unnoticed, and she was swamped by the hot wave that was his need, or hers. Or what they made together. On one long, throaty moan, she went under for the third time, dragging him with her.

  He’d been prepared for her to slap or scratch. And he would have accepted it, would have forced himself to be satisfied with that quick, tempting taste. He was a man with large appetites, but he had never been one to take what wasn’t offered willingly.

  She didn’t offer. She exploded. In that blink of time before his mouth covered hers, he’d seen the fire come into her eyes, that dark, liquid fire that equaled passion. When the kiss had gone from teasing to fevered, she had answered, pulling him far deeper into that hot well of desires than he’d intended to go.

  And that moan. It sprinted along his spine, that glorious feline sound that was both surrender and demand. Even as it died away, she was wrapping herself around him, pressing that incredibly lean and limber body against his in a way that had a chain of explosions rioting through his system.

  She heard his breathy oath, felt the long cushions of the couch press into her back as he shifted her. For one wild moment, all she could think was Yes! This was what she wanted, this wild flurry of sensations, this crazed, mindless mating of flesh. As his mouth raced down to savage her throat, she arched against him, craving the possession.

  Then he said her name. Groaned it. The shock of hearing it ripped her back to reality. She was grappling on a couch in a strange apartment with a man she barely knew.