For the Love of Nick Page 5

  “Yeah.” There was a rough timbre to his tone and a darkness in the depths of his eyes. His fingers flexed on her lower back, then relaxed. Though he spoke utterly calmly, the bulge between his thighs, the one pressing against her lower belly, belied that calmness. “I can’t help my reaction to you, Danielle. I mean, look at you. You’re beautiful. Smart. Fascinating.” When she scoffed and tried to look away, he held her still. “You excite me,” he said very quietly. “You always have.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. But I happen to be able to control myself. We’re going to my house to develop your film because staying here is a bad idea. And we’re going to get you some much-needed rest. Okay?”

  She stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. “The film and the rest part. But I don’t know about the stay-over part.”

  “One thing at a time, then.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  His smile was slow, and somehow both sweet and hot at the same time. Good thing he still had his hands on her, she needed the support. But then he backed away with a wry grimace. “I haven’t had this sort of problem since high school.”

  “Problem?”

  Now the wry grimace turned into a wry laugh, and he shoved his fingers through his hair, disturbing it, before cramming his hands deep in his pockets. “Uncontrollable erections.”

  “Oh,” she said, her face flaming, and unable to control it, her gaze was suddenly glued to the spot in question.

  “That will make it worse,” he said very silkily.

  Putting her hands to her hot cheeks, she turned away.

  NICK STOOD next to Danielle in the darkened studio knowing he was in trouble. He just wasn’t sure how he’d managed to get there.

  He was taking her home with him because she needed him.

  Okay, not entirely. It was just that he felt loath to let her walk right back out of his life as if nothing had happened.

  And nothing had happened.

  Unless one counted the way his heart had leaped into his throat at just the sight of her. Maybe if he didn’t look at her…

  He looked at Sadie instead. “She looks hot,” he said, watching the huge dog pant.

  “She needs water.”

  “Here, then. Before we go.” He backed into the office, opened the darkroom and took out a bin. He was used to the dark in here, unlike Danielle, who bumped into his chest.

  “Oh,” she said, flattening her palm over his heart.

  At the light touch, his blood pounded. He’d dreamed about her during his most impressionable adolescent years, but this was ridiculous. “Wait right here.” Moving away from her, he filled the bin from the cold water in the sink, then set it down for Sadie.

  The dog pressed between them, diving for the water. No dainty lapping for this dog. She stuck her entire face in and slurped at it, making water splash over the sides onto the floor, his shoes, everywhere.

  Then she lifted her head, looked right into his eyes and let out a sharp bark, nearly piercing his eardrums.

  “She’s thanking you.”

  He studied the dog, who had water all over her face, running in two long streams out either side of her mouth. He thought about the mess on the floor and what his sisters would say. Thought about how he was going to have to get down on his hands and knees and scrub. He sighed. “She’s welcome.” He’d come back tomorrow and clean up. When his life returned to normal and he was back on vacation, with nothing demanding his time or efforts.

  Just then Danielle’s scent came to him—clean woman—and he found himself inhaling deeply, wanting to bury his face in her hair. “Let’s go,” he said a little gruffly.

  They were on the steps outside when he heard the car pull up. Beside him, Danielle tensed, and so did Sadie.

  Nick looked into the street and got a little tense himself. Damn it, he’d forgotten something that had seemed so important to him only a few hours before.

  His date with…ah, hell. Muffy? Missy? He couldn’t quite remember her name. They’d met in a bar only two nights ago and the place had been incredibly noisy.

  By arrangement, they were to meet here at six o’clock. It couldn’t be that late already, could it? But one glance at his watch assured him it could and was.

  “Yoo-hoo!” His date waved from her car as she double-parked. Then Missy…Muffy… No, Molly. Molly leapt out the driver’s door, her wild blond hair cascading down her back in ringlets, her short, short, short gold sundress shimmering in the sun. Mile-long legs strutted. Full, round breasts jiggled as she hurried toward him, smiling with that wide, painted mouth he’d thought so sexy only a few nights before.

  Now, though it felt cruel to think it, she seemed like nothing more than a toy, and he couldn’t imagine what he’d been thinking to ask her out. Maybe thinking hadn’t been involved. After all, they had nothing in common, nothing to talk about. She was nothing like…

  Danielle.

  “Hey there,” Molly purred, reaching them. She glanced at Danielle curiously but without any animosity, probably figuring Danielle far too plain, too quiet, too reserved for Nick’s taste.

  She couldn’t have been more wrong. To Nick, Danielle’s soft expression, her beautiful and not made-up eyes, her tasteful clothes, was a package proving to be more desirable than he could have imagined. “Molly.” He stepped closer, trying to head her off. “I’m sorry,” he started regretfully, reaching out for her hand in order to avoid—

  Nope, no avoiding it. Molly drew him in, squeezing him in a hug that smothered him in perfume and undoubtedly left lipstick where she’d planted her red mouth to the side of his.

  Over her shoulder, he caught a glimpse of Danielle, who was doing a great impression of someone who could care less, but in her eyes was a hurt that tugged at something deep inside of him.

  “Wait until you see what I’ve got on beneath this dress,” Molly whispered in his ear.

  Feeling stupid and awkward, he pulled back. “I’m sorry,” he said again, looking into her eyes, watching as they filled with disappointment. “But—”

  “You’re canceling.” Molly sighed. “Is it the hairdo?” She patted the over-the-top curls. “Too wild, huh? Or maybe the nails—” She held out metallic blue nails imprinted with little white letters that spelled erogenous zones of the human anatomy.

  “It has nothing to do with how you look. You look…” Ah, hell. He was no good at this. “Molly, it’s just that an old friend stopped by, and she needs some help, and—”

  “Oh, I understand.” Molly eyed the silent Danielle again, then smiled. “We’ll reschedule, then?”

  He looked into her hopeful expression, crossed his fingers and nodded. “Another time.”

  “’Kay.” Leaning forward, giving him an ample view of her generous breasts, she kissed him one last time. “See you soon,” she whispered with promise in her sultry voice. “Ta!”

  Nick waited until Molly had gotten into her car and driven off before turning to Danielle. “Uh…do you want to follow me? Or drive in my car and we’ll come back for yours later?”

  Her smile was brittle, her voice downright chilly. “Definitely, I’ll follow.” She pulled out a set of keys and didn’t look at him. “Didn’t mean to mess up your plans for the evening—”

  “Danielle, I’m sorry. I’d forgotten—”

  She turned to him. “Look, let’s get this over with, okay? The sooner the better, and then you can catch up with your…girlfriend.” She tried to go around him but he blocked her.

  “She’s not my girlfriend.”

  “Whatever.”

  She stopped trying to get around him and glared into his face. “That shade of lipstick really doesn’t become you.” Then she sashayed past him, her slim hips and curvy little butt wriggling with attitude and bad temper.

  TED BLACKSTONE couldn’t believe it. She’d left him. Danielle Douglass, the woman he’d thought so perfect for him, a complement to the rest of his life, had up and walked out.

  No one had
ever walked out on him.

  He’d grown up with the power of influential parents, and while he’d never actually spent much time in their company—they’d been too busy making money—he’d always enjoyed the fruits of their success.

  Later, as a formidable investor in his own right, he’d had the world at his own fingertips. Fabulous house, great car, nice bank account…but still, as always, he’d been…lonely.

  Until Danielle.

  She’d looked at him with worship. He was her world, and God, he’d loved it…and her. After he’d neatly folded her life into his, he’d finally felt satisfied. At peace. He’d had it all, even a champion show dog for added pride and glory.

  He loved glory.

  Oh yeah, things had been good. But then he’d made a few bad judgements on the market. He’d been forced to dip into his trust fund, and then, out of desperation, had kept dipping. In the blink of an eye his fat bank account had gone on an alarming diet, and his car and house were in jeopardy.

  To top off the indignity of it all, Danielle, his beloved Danielle, had left him, stealing his prized show dog—the only investment he had left that was worth anything—in the process. He wanted it all back.

  Especially Danielle. And what Ted Blackstone wanted, he always got.

  7

  DANIELLE FOLLOWED Nick in her borrowed car, doubting herself the entire way there. In fact, she didn’t even know where there was, other than they weren’t leaving Providence. She knew almost nothing about the man she’d somehow ended up trusting. Again.

  Nick Cooper. It was still hard to believe. He’d been the most interesting person in her high school, not because of status, or jockhood, or that he kissed like absolute heaven. Which he did.

  But because he hadn’t cared what others thought of him. It was a rare person who had that much confidence, and that he’d had it so young had really struck a chord with her.

  He still had it in spades.

  And he had something else that never failed to amaze her.

  Kindness.

  “Doesn’t say much for me,” she muttered. “That a sweet word and a light touch leaves me following after him like a dog.”

  Sadie shot her a baleful glance out of her dark eyes.

  “Sorry.” Danielle stroked the dog’s massive head. “It wasn’t just the kindness anyway.” She sighed and downshifted as she followed him into a town house complex that was very classy, very New England. “You might have noticed how remarkable-looking he is.”

  Sadie yawned.

  “Right.” They were on a secluded side street, lined with oak trees and wildflowers and groomed lawns. There were no fenced yards in sight, which probably meant dogs weren’t welcome.

  Nick parked, and she stopped next to him, but didn’t get out of the car, not yet.

  He came around and leaned on his passenger door, long legs crossed, hands in his pockets. Lazily, he thrust his chin toward the lovely two-story town house in front of them. “That’s mine.”

  “It’s…nice.”

  He shook his head and laughed. “You should know, you have a caged-in look about you.” Casual as you pleased, he smiled. “So why don’t you tell me what you think is going to happen up there?”

  “Absolutely nothing.” She bit her lower lip. “Right?”

  Pushing away from the door, his smile still in place, though now his eyes held a grimness she didn’t understand, he opened her door.

  She expected him to pull her from the car. Maybe sidetrack her with another smile and a touch of his warm, strong hands.

  She didn’t expect him to hunker down at her side, right at eye level and just look at her.

  Staring in front of her out the windshield, she ignored him.

  But unlike Ted, who’d always seemed to have a lot to say, Nick said nothing.

  She fiddled with her seat belt. Touched her backpack. Chewed her lip. “What?” she finally demanded, her gaze whipping back to his. “What are you looking at?”

  “You tell me.”

  “I don’t want to play any guessing games here, Nick.”

  “Funny. Me, either.” He set a hand on hers, over the steering wheel. “Come up. Get your pictures. Get some rest. The end. Can you do that?”

  “Especially the end part.”

  Now his smile reached his eyes. “That’s a girl. One step at a time, right? Let’s go.”

  One step at a time. Easier than it sounded, but she got out of the car and grabbed Sadie’s leash. She hadn’t wanted to put him out, hadn’t wanted to be any sort of burden, but she’d already blown his obvious plans for the evening with the human Barbie Doll.

  And as it had been all those years before, he hadn’t said a word to make her feel bad, not one. Hadn’t told her how stupid she’d been to get into this ridiculous situation in the first place.

  Hard as it was to accept the help, after so many nights in the cramped car if he had so much as a comfortable chair for her to nap in, she’d be eternally grateful.

  He led her through the small front yard. On either side, there were impeccable gardens. Grass so green and thick one could get lost in it, flowers of every hue in the rainbow.

  In contrast, Nick’s yard was mostly brick, with two large potted trees.

  “Low maintenance,” he said, putting his key in the lock. “I’m gone for long stretches. No need to keep killing pretty flowers with my neglect.” He gestured her in first.

  But Danielle hesitated. “What about Sadie?”

  “Does she have an aversion to being inside?”

  “No.”

  “Well, then, show her in.”

  “She’s…” Danielle looked down at Sadie, knowing that while the dog was her own personal treasure, she was also not easy. “She can be a bit messy.”

  “I hadn’t noticed,” he said dryly, waiting with that same calm patience he’d shown her since she’d first walked into the photo studio. The same calm patience he’d shown her all those years ago.

  “Be good,” she whispered to the dog.

  “Make yourself at home.” Nick took them through a wide, open living room sparsely furnished with light oak furniture, photographs from all over the world and the biggest couch she’d ever seen.

  Covered in cushions, it was dark forest green and so inviting she nearly crumpled on it right then and there. Her body actually leaned toward it, begging, but Nick kept walking.

  With an exhausted sigh, she followed, Sadie in tow, her toenails clicking on the hardwood floors.

  The kitchen was light and airy, too. There was a basket of fruit on the counter that had her mouth watering. And a loaf of bread right next to it.

  When had she last eaten? There’d been the burger for lunch, but nothing for breakfast…

  Nick opened the refrigerator. “You’re in luck, I actually bought some food the other day. Usually this place is empty. What would you like?”

  “The photos.”

  “Yes, your pictures,” he said with the first hint of impatience in his voice. “But first, food. When did you last eat? What did you last eat?” He craned his neck and looked her over. “You look like a good wind could blow you over. Never mind,” he said in disgust when she just lifted her chin. “Good God, why would anyone ask a woman what she wants to eat? She’ll say nothing, and then just as likely eat everything on my plate. We’ll have soup and sandwiches,” he decided, talking to himself now. “Fast and filling.”

  Pride warred with fierce hunger at the thought of hot soup and a big sandwich. “Do you always feed perfect strangers just because they look hungry?”

  “We’re hardly perfect,” he said calmly, opening a can of soup, pouring it into a pot and putting it on the stove. Then he pulled out the sandwich fixings and started working, as if he were an old pro in the kitchen.

  She tried not to notice how utterly sexy he looked concentrating at putting mustard on bread.

  “And as for the strangers part…” He lifted his head and pierced her with a hot, intimate look that curled her to
es. “I already told you. I stopped thinking of you as a stranger long ago.”

  She forced her gaze back to the job at hand—food. His long, tanned fingers delicately placed lettuce on the bread. “High school was a long time ago.”

  He nodded, his mouth curving in memories.

  Helpless to resist the lure of the thick turkey he was now layering over the lettuce, she moved closer. “You…haven’t forgotten how horrible it was.”

  “I’ve forgotten nothing.”

  “I’ve never really forgiven myself for those days.”

  “You sure enjoy paying for the sins of others, don’t you?” He leveled his timber-green eyes on hers while he brought his hand up and sucked a drop of mustard off his thumb. “It wasn’t your crowd I dreamed about.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.” A smile grew. “Oh.”

  She looked into his now-mischievous gaze, her heart catching at what she saw in it. “You really dreamed…”

  “Oh baby, you have no idea how many fantasies you headlined for me over those years.”

  She actually looked behind her. “Me?”

  “You.”

  “Well, that’s…” Thrilling. Tantalizing. Terrifying. “Disgusting.”

  Still smiling, he looked unconcerned. “Most high school boys are. And I was all boy.” He went back to the sandwiches, adding cheese.

  “You really had…sexual dreams about me?”

  “Hmm.” He sucked his thumb again, closing his eyes, a fully sensual, passionate creature, enjoying every possible sensation. “Good dreams, too,” he murmured, his voice impossibly husky. “Did I mention I had a great imagination?” His gaze, scalding now, skimmed over her from head to toe, then slowly back again. “And even in my wildest dreams, I never, ever, put you together as good as the reality.”

  He poured her a bowl of soup from the stove, loaded one sandwich on a plate, then dumped half a bag of potato chips on it. “Enjoy,” he said lightly, gently shoving her onto a bar stool at the counter.

  He turned back to the cutting board and chopped up some turkey and cheese. Then he set it into a bowl and eyed Sadie. “Watch my fingers, dog,” he warned, putting it on the floor.