Revealing Nicola

by Sam Cheever

  A thrill of fear skittered through her when she saw the long guns resting comfortably in the men’s hands, their dark, hostile gazes finding her behind the tinted glass as if she wore a neon sign that read, “Hostile entity. Keep her in your sights.”

  As the gate slid slowly open, Nici’s gaze slipped over the well-kept grounds that rose steeply to a massive stone house. Low-lying clouds clung to the horizon around it, making the enormous home resemble Valhalla from Norse mythology.

  Gordon DeVitis resided in a large house on a small mountain.

  The twisting black ribbon of a driveway wound along the sides of the mountain until it was cut off by another fence. The second fence looked to be built of the same stone that surrounded the grounds and Nici guessed it was probably several feet thick and twelve feet high. Walking along the top of the fence were several stick figure outlines that she guessed to be more guards. “Quite the fortress,” she murmured unhappily.

  “And yet you managed to escape,” her “brother” shot back.

  She happily released the fear twisting in her belly in the form of anger, focusing it at the dark-eyed, dark haired, sinisterly-handsome man who assumed he knew her. “Has it never occurred to you how pathetic it is that your poor sister had to ‘escape’ her own home? What the hell kind of family is this?”

  Franco slid a warning gaze her way.

  She ignored him, daring Perry DeVitis to justify his family’s actions.

  He shrugged, looking much less uncomfortable with her accusation than he should have. “We’ve had this conversation a thousand times, Lena. I’m not going over it again.”

  Nici’s fists clenched and a tiny growl of frustration escaped before she could stop it. She was rigid with anger, her face flushed with heat. It was all she could do to keep from launching herself across the space and strangling the arrogant man in the opposite seat with her bare hands.

  Suddenly a large, warm hand covered both of hers, giving them a quick squeeze. She looked up into Franco’s impenetrable green gaze. He gave her a smile. “Your father will be relieved to see you. Why don’t you wait and ask him your questions once we get you settled?”

  She knew he was right. Throttling Perry wouldn’t gain her anything but a wonderful sense of satisfaction. If Gordon DeVitis was the man she had to convince, then convince him she would. His son be damned.

  She gave Franco a small nod and sat back, taking a series of deep breaths in an effort to calm herself.

  “You always did spoil her, Franco,” Perry said in a soft, judgmental voice. When Nici’s head snapped around, she noted the way Perry’s gaze had locked onto Franco’s hand covering hers.

  To his credit, Franco didn’t remove the hand, despite the warning glare his employer’s son gave him. “Spoil her? I don’t think so, Perry. But I do recognize she’s an intelligent human being with a right to an opinion. I can see why that would seem a foreign concept to you.”

  Perry stiffened, his face hardening. “You’ve got a smart mouth on you, Martin. One of these days my father won’t be in charge anymore and you’re going to answer for it.”

  Franco lifted a brow in apparent surprise. “I wasn’t aware your father had plans to retire.”

  Perry tore his gaze away, planting it on the gate they were fast approaching. “Sometimes plans go awry.”

  Nici didn’t like the sound of that. She flicked Franco a glance and noted by the tightening of his jaw that he hadn’t liked it either. Clearly she’d been right to dislike Perry DeVitis. She only hoped the rest of the family was less...unpalatable. The upcoming audience with the Patriarch was going to be difficult enough if he was nothing like his arrogant son.

  She wasn’t sure how well she’d be able to handle him if he was a total jerk too.

  The limo pulled up in front of the mansion and the driver climbed out. She recognized the guy from the night before but couldn’t remember his name. To his credit, when he opened the door, he didn’t glare at her for giving him a face full of mace.

  She bit down on the urge to apologize and thanked him softly as she stepped out.

  The driveway beneath her feet was formed of cobblestones, which made Nici think of days long gone. A rabid historical romance buff, she couldn’t help feeling as if she’d been transported back in time and was about to enter a portal to another era. The massive stone house was fronted with a porch as wide as the building, the ornate veranda supported by a series of huge white pillars and cooled by ceiling fans that spun lazily in the high mahogany ceiling. Wooden rocking chairs adorned the porch and massive concrete planters lined the railing, spilling a vibrant explosion of color through the vertical slats. She turned as Franco exited the limousine and noted the massive concrete horse cavorting in a glossy pool that formed the center of the circular drive. The rider on its back looked as if he was dressed in a military uniform from the country’s early history, which seemed to verify her sense of going back in time.

  A warm hand wrapped around her upper arm. “Ready?”

  She looked up at Franco and he gave her a reassuring smile. Something in her gaze must have given away her trepidation. She took a deep breath and started up the broad, curving steps toward the porch. As they approached, the beautiful mahogany and glass door at the center of the home opened.

  Nici straightened her shoulders, preparing to face off with a stern-faced butler 4 haughty attitude. Instead, she had to adjust her vision downward. Way downward. To find a small, oval face with pink cheeks and shining blue eyes. “Lena!” The little girl bounced out of the house and threw herself into Nici’s arms, giggling happily. “I knew Franco would find you.”

  Nici was at a loss what to do with the little girl burrowing into her. She looked a plea for help toward Franco, but it was Perry who came to her rescue.

  “Leave her be, Bridget. She’s here to see Dad.”

  The diminutive Bridget stuck her tongue out at Perry, drawing a laugh from Nici. On an impulse, she clasped the little girl’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “You tell him, honey.”

  The little girl beamed up at Nici for a beat and then started pulling her toward the door. “Come on. Mama fixed a tray and they’re waiting for you in the important room.”

  Nici let herself be pulled inside, her gaze wide as she took in the surprisingly comfortable interior of the big home. Instead of a massive formal foyer as she came through the door, she found herself looking at an unbroken expanse of warm, golden wood floors spilling toward a wall of windows that looked out over a beautiful splash of bright green grass, broken only by a dozen or so flower beds in full bloom. Other than a wide, curved staircase in the center, the enormous room was segmented only by clusters of furniture and the occasional white pillar that did little to impede the breathtaking view.

  She must have made a small sound of pleasure because little Bridget grinned up at her. “You look like you’ve never seen it before,” she laughed.

  Nici squeezed her grimy hand. “I never get used to how pretty it is.”

  Bridget nodded as if she understood. “You and Mama did a bang-up job of it.”

  The words sounded so strange coming from the little girl’s lips that Nici laughed.

  “That’s what Daddy says,” Bridget explained. “But you already know that, silly.”

  Footsteps sounded on the wood floor and Nici saw a rotund woman with dark hair and rosy cheeks hurrying toward them. “Ah, there ya are, miss. So glad to see ya back.” The woman’s lilting voice sounded Irish and her dark hair and green eyes seemed to support that impression. Nici didn’t know what to say so she just smiled.

  The woman bore down on little Bridget and bent over her, wiping a kitchen towel over the tyke’s dirty face. “Ah, look at ya now, child. You’ve been playin’ in the woods again, haven’t ya?”

  Bridget pushed the towel away with a grimace. “Leave it, Ciara. The dirt helps me hide.”

  Ciara put her pudgy hands on her fleshy hips and gave the child a long-suffering look. “And who ya hidin’ from today
, child?”

  “The Magical Foundation of Wizardry of course. They want to steal my brain and put it in a bottle.”

  The woman’s green eyes sparkled. “Ah, yes. Of course. A wee bottle it would be, eh?”

  Cocking a tiny hip with pique, Bridget frowned up at the woman. “Shows what you know. They had to order a special bottle to hold all my brains.”

  Ciara winked at Nici. “I see. Well, that’s good then. I don’t suppose ya’d care ta have a few cookies, still warm from the oven, before ya go get your brains bottled?”

  The child’s eyes went wide. She grabbed Nici’s hand. “Come on, Lena. Let’s go have some cookies and milk before the boys find out and eat ’em all.”

  Nici wished with all her heart she could go sit in the kitchen with the wonderful Ciara and the captivating Bridget. But she had something far less palatable to do. “I’ll have to take a raincheck, little one. I have to speak to your...um... to Dad first.”

  Bridget sighed expansively. “Okay. I’ll save you some.”

  “I’d like that.” She watched the twosome hurry away toward the back of the house and then turned to Franco. He was staring at her as if she had something in her teeth. Her hand moved self-consciously to her face. “What?”

  He shook his head. “You haven’t called her that for a long time.”

  “Called who what?”

  “Bridget. You used to call her little one all the time. Until you decided your life was miserable and you pretty much stopped talking to everyone.”

  Even knowing he wasn’t talking about her...not really...Nici felt badly about that. “She’s adorable. I always wanted a younger sister.”

  He held her gaze for a moment longer, something warm sliding through his green eyes, and then pointed toward a pair of French doors down the hallway. “The king awaits.”

  She smiled. “At least tell me he’s not an ogre king?”

  “Not an ogre, no. But very fearsome.” The words had the flavor of a warning and they made Nici’s pulse rise.

  Franco placed his hand in the small of her back, urging her forward. She pulled air into her lungs as need spiked hard and visceral from the innocent touch. To her amazement, he didn’t lower the hand as they moved toward the doors. She realized he was giving her moral support and was suddenly very grateful.

  She was also grateful that Perry seemed to have made himself scarce. She really could only deal with one fearsome beast at a time.

  Even with Franco’s pulse-lifting support.

  He knocked softly on the door and a deep, gruff voice called out for them to enter.

  Franco gave her a last smile and then dropped his supportive hand from her back, turning the doorknob, and pushing the door open.

  She stood rooted in the spot for a long moment. Unable to work up the courage to walk through the door. But Franco lifted an eyebrow and she felt the censure like a punch to the gut. She was being cowardly. If there was one thing Nicola Roche had always prided herself on being it was brave.

  Though she’d realized over the last twenty-four hours that she’d really had nothing to be brave about before she fell into Franco Martin’s clutches.

  What a difference a few hours...and a delicious bodynapper...made.

  Taking a deep breath, Nici stepped through the door and took three steps before stopping dead. The first thing she noticed was a rolling cart with a large tray on its top. The tray held the makings of coffee or tea, complete with delicate china cups that Nici would be afraid to use. On a plate beside a silver pot was an assortment of tiny frosted cakes that she could smell all the way across the room.

  However, the tray was quickly forgotten when she the man and woman standing beside it.

  They were the most beautiful couple she’d ever seen. Franco had been right, Gordon DeVitis was indeed a king. Or at least he could have been if he’d lived in another time and place. But he held himself like royalty and his thick mane of wavy dark hair, which touched his ears and curled away from the back of a strong neck, made him look like he’d been born for a throne. He flexed a square jaw, bristly with a shadow despite the fact it was barely midday and briefly narrowed his gaze, blue like a stormy ocean, as he looked at her.

  Nici felt as if she should say something but nothing came to mind.

  She was vaguely aware of Franco moving up just behind her. She could feel his heat, smell his clean, intoxicating scent. But even his presence wasn’t enough to keep her knees from softening beneath her. Because the woman standing next to Gordon DeVitis was beautiful and oh so familiar.

  She wore her fifty-ish years magnificently. The years and DNA had served her well. But Nici felt as if she were looking in a mirror thirty years from that moment.

  Anshelle DeVitis lifted her hands, tears slipping like silver rain from her beautiful hazel eyes. She bit her bottom lip, shoved a nervous hand through her thick fall of blonde hair, and looked at her husband.

  He gave his beautiful wife the smallest of nods and she sobbed once, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. “I can’t believe it’s her.”

  Nici realized in that moment that something big had changed. Behind her, Franco went very still. Clearly he’d felt the change too.

  “Mr. DeVitis...” Nici said, stopping to clear the frog from her throat.

  Anshelle moved away from her husband and Nici quickly found herself wrapped in a tight hug. “My sweet baby girl.” She cried softly, one hand rubbing Nici’s back as she crooned nonsense into her ear.

  Nici knew she should feel uncomfortable being hugged by a virtual stranger. But instead, she had a sensation of déjà vu. As if she’d lived that moment in time before.

  Then Gordon DeVitis spoke again and Nici’s world came crashing down around her.

  “Welcome home, Nicola. Your mother and I are very pleased to finally meet you.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  She gently pushed Anshelle DeVitis away, her eyes locked on the man who’d just ripped her world out from under her. “I’m sorry. You’ve made a mistake.” Nici was appalled to discover that her voice was breathy and weak, as if someone had just punched her in the stomach.

  Probably because that was exactly what he’d done.

  Gordon DeVitis approached, an understanding smile on his handsome face. “I know this is a lot to take in...”

  Nici shook her head, backing away from them as the need to run suddenly overwhelmed everything. “You’re not my parents. My parents are Walt and Cindy Roche. They’ve loved me my whole life. I don’t even know you people.” Her glare found Anshelle DeVitis and she injected it with venom for the woman who looked far too much like her. Because if what they were telling her was true, she’d been cast aside like garbage when she’d been her most vulnerable.

  She was immediately sorry for the blurted rejection when Anshelle jerked as if she’d been struck. Her husband wrapped a protective arm around her slender shoulders. When he looked at Nici again, his gaze was cold. “I’m sorry this has caught you off guard, Nicola, but it is the truth. The sooner you adjust to it the better. Now that you’ve become a target you must stay with us so we can protect you.”

  A cold terror slipped up her spine and dizziness swamped her. She was surrounded by crazy people and, if she didn’t get out of there soon, she’d be trapped. Imprisoned like the unfortunate Elena. Who’d apparently taken a short lifetime to escape her confinement.

  What a difference a few moments made. Nici had just been feeling sorry for Elena. But she suddenly envied her. She turned and started running toward the door. Someone called her name. There was a sob. And then an angry bark of orders as Franco was engaged.

  She flung the door open and smashed into the man who’d driven them there. As usual, his handsome face wore a harmless-seeming smile. “Whoa there. No running in the house. Ciara’s rules.” He reached out to steady her as she almost fell. She tried to jerk away.

  A firm, warm grip encircled her arm. “Come on, Nicola. I’ll show you your room.”

  Despite her
attempts to get free, Franco easily propelled her toward the wide, curving staircase. He pulled her close against his side and lowered his head, murmuring softly. “Take care, Nic. Consider the situation before you act rashly.”

  It sounded so much like a threat she gasped.

  Franco’s grip on her arm softened slightly but the stern look on his face didn’t relax a bit. “Take a few deep breaths. It’s all going to be fine, I promise.”

  She jerked her arm, anger rising when he held her easily. “Like it was for Elena?”

  His gaze hardened, his jaw tightening. Clearly her words hadn’t earned her any favors.

  He pulled her toward a wide door in the center of a long hallway. Like everything else in the beautiful home, the door was pristine, painted in glossy white paint. Franco pushed the door open and tugged her inside.

  Nici barely noticed her lush surroundings before trying to pull away again, intending to run right back out the door.

  Franco kicked the door closed and ushered her gently but firmly toward a massive bed on the long wall opposite the door. When her knees hit the mattress he shoved her onto it. Bending closer as she turned herself around, her irate prison guard bracketed her hips with his hands, pressing them into the mattress as he intruded on her space. When he spoke, it was as if he had to tear every word from between his sexy lips. “I understand you’re shocked. I know you have a thousand questions. Lord knows, I have questions too. But Anshelle DeVitis is one of the kindest souls I know, and hurting her will not buy you a drop of goodwill in this house.”

  His words only served to make her even more angry. “I’m sorry if the special snowflake got her feelings hurt. But this is my life...my world they’re ripping apart. If they choose to lie to themselves about who I am that’s their problem. Not mine.”

  He shook his head, straightening away from her with disgust. “They’re not lying. Trust me. Gordon DeVitis wouldn’t claim you unless you were one of his.”