For the Love of Nick Read online

  “Yeah.” Danielle tried to pull Sadie before the outdoor screen. Sadie didn’t want to go. Digging her paws in, jaw stubborn, she held back.

  But apparently Danielle was just as stubborn because she pulled and pulled with all her might. “You’re…going…to pose,” she grunted.

  Fascinated and amused in spite of himself, Nick watched. Danielle’s brow was furrowed, her hair in her eyes. Her face, tight with concentration, slowly turned as red as it had when she’d realized she’d shoved her very nicely curved bottom in his face.

  Filled with determination, she did indeed eventually budge the dog, and he had to admire the strength in her willowy frame for doing so.

  “You…could…help,” she rasped, getting Sadie on the right spot, tossing him an irritated look that only made his grin wider.

  “Why? You’re doing great.” The dog had to weigh over a hundred pounds. No way was he going to push it around and risk losing a finger or more. He was fond of his fingers. And fond, he discovered, of watching Danielle sweat.

  He wondered what else would make her sweat and grunt like that. Wondered if she liked down-and-dirty sex, if she—

  Whoa. Back the truck up. He was not having those thoughts, not about this woman.

  “Okay,” Danielle said breathlessly, straightening. “Get ready, Nick.” She stroked the dog, soothed her, kissed her nose, even rubbed her cheek against Sadie’s.

  Nick watched this honest display of affection and felt something tug inside, good and hard. Damn it.

  “Take the picture,” Danielle said. “Quick.”

  Nick moved behind the camera, watching through the lens as Danielle praised and hugged Sadie, with little disregard for the dog hair sticking to her clothing, for the drool that dripped down one arm, for her own wildly rioting hair, or the way she once again presented him with her delectable backside.

  “Ready?” she tossed over her shoulder.

  “Ready,” Nick said, eyes glued to her body as she quickly moved out of range.

  When the camera shutter closed, she sagged back against the wall in relief, closing her eyes, breathing deeply.

  Mesmerized by the emotions crossing her fine features, Nick moved from behind the camera and came to stand before her. “It’s just a picture.”

  Her eyes flew open. “When can I have them?”

  “In about three weeks.”

  “How about I pay you for the film? You can just give me the roll and I’ll get them developed myself.”

  “That’s not the way Providence Photography works,” he said, absorbing her growing panic. “Danielle—”

  The bell above the front door of the studio chimed. Danielle jerked to face him. “I thought you said you were closed.”

  “We are.” Nick groaned at the thought of taking more pictures. Because bad as a dog was, it could get worse, far worse.

  He could have to take a baby picture.

  “Nick.” Danielle gripped his shirt when he turned to go out front. “I need to tell you—”

  “Hang on, I’ll be right back.” But short of prying her fingers from him, he couldn’t budge her. Then he saw her face, which had gone colorless. “Hey.” Concern replaced everything else, and without thinking, he stroked her hair from her face, touching her cheek. “What is it?”

  “If it’s the police—”

  “The police?” He went very still. “Why would it be the police?”

  “If it is,” she repeated, swallowing hard. “I—”

  “Hello?” called a male voice from out front. “Sergeant Anderson. Anyone here?”

  4

  “OH MY GOD.” Danielle slapped a hand over her mouth. Her blood pounded in her ears as her heart dropped to her toes.

  Sensing her distress, Sadie butted her big head into Danielle’s stomach, knocking her back a few feet. She dropped to her knees and hugged the dog close. “Shh,” she begged, pressing Sadie’s broad face against her chest. “They won’t take you back, I won’t let them.”

  The promise was genuine, though she had no idea how to keep it. Above her, Nick swore under his breath, and she spared a second to feel incredibly stupid for getting into this situation. How had they found her?

  And what would Nick do now? Turn her in?

  Of course he would, anyone in his right mind would. He had no idea what was happening or what she’d done. No ties as distant as theirs were would warrant him getting in trouble with the law for her.

  “I’ll be right out,” he called out to the waiting sergeant. He stared down at Danielle. “I’m in the darkroom, just give me another second.”

  Then he dropped down beside her, forcing her chin up. Odd, but his long, warm fingers on her throat were the most comforting thing she’d felt in a very long time. So was the way he looked at her, as if he was deeply concerned. As if she mattered.

  His body was close, so close she could have moved a fraction of an inch and let him support her. Tempting. God, so tempting.

  But that would be weak, and one thing Danielle refused to be was weak.

  Nick brushed up against her. He put his mouth to her ear, eliciting a shiver at the feel of his breath fluttering her hair. “I take it you’re in some deep shit?”

  He smelled good, pure male, she thought inanely. His hair curled over his ear so that her breath disturbed the strands. He felt warm and solid, and she wanted to press closer.

  Why was she noticing such things at a time like this?

  “Danielle?”

  “You…might say that I’m in a tad bit of trouble,” she whispered.

  “What’s going on?”

  “It’s a long story.” She didn’t want to tell him how pathetic she’d been to have had her entire life taken away from her. Closing her eyes, she waited for him to call out and announce her presence. Any self-respecting citizen would.

  “Did you hurt anyone?”

  Her eyes flew open. “No!”

  “Commit murder?”

  “God, no!”

  “Okay.” He put his mouth to her ear again. “Whatever they think you did do, are you innocent?”

  This time his lips touched the sensitive skin just beneath her ear, and another shiver wracked her frame. A shiver he must have taken for fear because he ran a hand down her arm.

  “No,” she managed, blinking up at him because he wasn’t betraying her. Why wasn’t he betraying her? “I’m not innocent. But I only did it to protect—”

  “Hello?” the officer called out again, sounding unmistakably annoyed.

  “Coming!” Nick looked at her for another long heartbeat before closing his eyes briefly, muttering something about being a damn, sentimental fool. “Where did you park your car?”

  “It’s not mine, it’s my friend’s. Down the street and around the corner. There wasn’t any free parking out front and I didn’t have change—”

  “Thank God for small favors. Get in the closet. Sadie, too.” He opened it, put those hands of his on her hips to guide her in.

  “Wait.” She resisted his hands when she really wanted to close her eyes and whimper at the feel of them on her. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

  “I do fine in that area all on my own, thanks. Now get in.”

  “I don’t need your help, Nick.”

  “I hate to argue, but it would appear you do. Again.”

  Yeah. Again. God, that burned. Especially when her pride was all she had left. For a moment, she almost wished he was a perfect stranger, that they had nothing in their past to give them this odd, inexplicable connection she didn’t understand and didn’t want. “I can do this myself.”

  “How? By running out the back door and hoping they don’t hear you? Get in,” he urged, pushing her in the closet. Leaning in after her, he squinted into the dark. “You okay in here for a few?”

  That he would take the time to ask nearly broke her. But she gathered up every last dollop of inner strength she had and nodded as if she did this every day.

  Nick turned to Sadie.
“You too, dog.” Apparently unwilling to push the dog in, he waited to be obeyed.

  Drooling, Sadie studied the wall.

  “Get in,” he repeated, cautiously reaching out with his foot to gently shoo her in.

  Sadie leapt as if he’d tried to kill her.

  Nick looked as startled as the dog. “Hey, just get in the damn closet.”

  “Here,” Danielle said quickly, pulling Sadie in herself, letting out an oomph as the nervous dog sat her considerable weight in Danielle’s lap.

  “Don’t make any noise,” Nick commanded in a hushed tone. And then he was gone.

  Danielle sat there in the dark with her one-hundred-fifty-pound baby. In her life she’d been in some pretty tight and uncomfortable situations, but this…this definitely took the cake. “We’ll be okay,” she said softly.

  Sadie turned in her lap, nearly breaking her legs in the process, pressing her warm, wet nose into Danielle’s neck. Four paws shifted up and down in nervous excitement, wondering when the games began.

  “This isn’t fun time,” Danielle whispered. “Shh, now.”

  But Sadie was convinced it was a game, and got herself all wound up, which meant more drooling, more rustling, more frantic maneuvers on Danielle’s part to calm down the young dog. “I know,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around Sadie’s bulky neck. “I know, I know. You want to play, but hang on.”

  Her legs were killing her, strained with the weight of the heavy, overgrown puppy, but there was little room to shift in the loaded closet. Still, she managed to lay back, scooting over to give Sadie enough room so that she could get off her lap.

  Marginally better. She had no idea what she was stretched out over, but it was actually quite comfortable, soft and pliable, and she relaxed slightly.

  Finally getting the message that it was quiet time, Sadie cuddled up beside her.

  It was so dark. She could hear Nick’s voice, could hear the policeman’s voice, but couldn’t make out the words. A wide yawn escaped her. She had hardly slept in days, and she felt it now, in every ache of her body, in her fuzzy—and quickly getting fuzzier—thoughts.

  Don’t fall asleep, she told herself, though Sadie already had. Her deep, steady snores mocked Danielle’s exhaustion.

  Counting didn’t help. Neither did thinking of the mess her life had become.

  Nick. She’d think of Nick. He had a smile on him, a smile that went all the way to his eyes. Ted hadn’t smiled like that, as if he really meant it.

  Why had she never noticed that before?

  Nick had a voice on him, too, she was listening to it now as he talked to the officer. In her not-too-distant past, she might have fallen for a voice and a smile like his, but not now. Falling meant trusting, and she just didn’t have it in her to do that, not ever again.

  “It’ll be okay,” she whispered to her sleeping dog. Somehow it would, and she curled up and closed her eyes.

  SERGEANT ANDERSON EYED the photo studio reception area, his sharp eyes missing nothing, but thankfully, there was nothing to see.

  Not out here anyway, Nick thought.

  “You’re certain you don’t have anyone scheduled for today?” the officer asked yet again.

  “As I mentioned, we’re closed,” Nick answered. “My sisters run the place, and they’re on vacation for several weeks yet.”

  “You’re not a photographer?”

  “I’m a journalist.”

  “What if someone calls you, wants to book an appointment?”

  “I’ll book it.”

  Sergeant Anderson narrowed his eyes and watched him very carefully. “But you won’t be opening for business?”

  Danielle, what have you done? “Have you ever tried getting good pictures of a baby? Or a high school grad student?” He shuddered. “Nightmare waiting to happen.”

  Anderson slowly nodded, his gaze taking another slow tour of the place. “Yeah, I have one of those grad students. She’s into makeup, boys, looking at herself in the mirror, and more boys.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So anyone wanting their picture taken is going to get turned away?”

  Nick didn’t look at the south wall, where at this very moment, on the other side, sat Danielle and her damn dog. If either of them made a noise, or so much as sneezed, they were all in very big trouble.

  What the hell had gotten into him when he’d shoved her in there and had offered to help? Had he lost his mind?

  Yes, he admitted. One look into her lovely but vulnerable eyes and he had indeed lost brain cells at an alarming rate.

  And now, though it made no sense, he offered his first lie. “Turned away flat. So what’s this about, anyway?”

  Anderson took one last look around. “I’m looking for a woman who’s going to want a professional photograph of a dog she’s stolen. There’s only two photograph studios in the immediate area, so…” He headed toward the door.

  Nick walked him there, hoping that would be the end of it, but of course, nothing was ever simple.

  Anderson had one last thing to say. “If a woman named Danielle Douglass comes in with a dog, here’s my card. Call me.”

  Nick took the card, controlling his dread. “What will happen to her?”

  “We’ll worry about that.”

  After he’d shut the door, Nick leaned back against it and drew in a deep breath. At heart, he was a journalist. He hunted out stories and told the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth.

  There was a story here, a big one, only he didn’t know the half of it.

  He would though. He definitely would. Pushing away from the wall, he moved down the hallway, into the studio and opened the closet door.

  He expected…well, he didn’t really know exactly what he expected, but it wasn’t the sight that greeted him.

  Danielle had fallen asleep among a throng of stuffed animals his sisters used during photo shoots for kids.

  But as the light fell on her, she sat straight up blinking sleepy eyes, looking dazed, rumpled and a little confused.

  And sexy. Very sexy.

  “Did you really fall asleep?” He refused to let his eyes soak in the very arousing sight of her lying stretched out over stuffed toys. She should have looked ridiculous, but instead, looked warm and…inviting, as though if he pressed in and joined her, she’d welcome him by leaning back and opening her arms. She’d wrap those bare arms and legs around him and—

  “Was he looking for me?”

  He looked into her eyes, the color of an approaching storm. “You know he was.”

  With her hair falling over her shoulders, she set aside the stuffed teddy bear she’d been hugging. “I couldn’t hear what you were saying out there.”

  “It’s hard to hear when you’re asleep.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  But she had been, and all he could think was, what kind of exhaustion could override being sought out by the police? “I think we should start at the beginning, Danielle.”

  “The beginning?”

  “Is Sadie that rare?”

  She followed his finger to the blissfully sleeping Sadie. “Yes.”

  “What makes her so?”

  She stroked the dog. “She’s called a ‘typey’ dog.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, as I told you before, she shows all the characteristics of her breed to maximum effect. It’s her coloring, it’s as perfect as there’s been in a hundred years. Her marking, the black outlining, the stripes? It’s as the breed was originally intended. She wins shows on her appearance alone.”

  “Lots of money involved with that winning?”

  “No.” Her mouth twisted wryly. “Silly as it sounds to someone not in the business, it’s not about the money. It’s about prestige. Glory.”

  “Ah.” Nick looked at Sadie and tried to imagine glory in running the dog around a ring filled with spectators and dog crap.

  “Sadie has that prestige and glory, and she gives it to whoever has her.”


  Nick rubbed his temples. “So what’s the story here? You haven’t murdered anyone, or physically hurt anyone. We got that far.”

  Danielle climbed out of the closet. At the loss of her beloved master’s body heat, Sadie lifted her head, yawning so widely it seemed she could swallow a man’s head whole. Then, realizing she was alone in the closet, she scrambled to all fours, only to slip. Without breaking stride, she was up and trying again, her toenails scratching the floor as she clamored for purchase where there was none to be had.

  “Slow down, sweetie,” Danielle murmured, reaching out to stroke her massive head.

  When the dog had finally freed herself, she leaned against Danielle, who staggered under the weight before bracing her legs farther apart.

  Sadie rubbed her head against Danielle’s belly, making Danielle smile at Nick sadly. “She loves me.”

  “I can see that.” For a moment, a very brief moment, he wondered what it was like to be the object of such deep love and devotion. But then he imagined how much the dog must eat a day—and excrete—and shuddered.

  He was not a dog owner and was quite satisfied with that.

  Danielle patted Sadie’s head. Her own hair was a mess, and she had a crease across one cheek where she’d lain her head on a teddy bear but as she leveled that somber smile on Nick, his heart simply stopped.

  Then her smile slowly faded. “I stole Sadie. I co-owned her with a man. My boyfriend.”

  Nick didn’t know which was more disturbing. The fact he’d lied to the police over a damn dog or that Danielle had a boyfriend.

  Not that he should care one way or another. He had his own life, a good one. He even had hot dates lined up. Dates that wouldn’t require thinking, wondering, dreaming or yearning.

  Given that Danielle required all of that and more, he ought to show her the front door.

  “When we broke up,” she said, “Ted wanted Sadie.”

  They’d broken up.

  “She’s worth money,” Danielle admitted. “But for Ted, it’s all about the glory. She’s a champion, and her bloodlines are incredible. He expected me to breed her, handle her descendants.”

  Nick shook his head. “This is a custody battle.” He couldn’t believe it. “Over a dog?”