The Scarlet Night (Rose Gold Book 0)

by Nicole French

  For several minutes, we sat, collecting ourselves. Fight together, Nonno used to say. Is this what he meant? The bottle of wine was almost empty, and I needed food, but I wasn’t going anywhere without her. And, to my satisfaction, Nina didn’t seem to have any intention of leaving either. Not without me.

  Hey, a man could hope.

  “I’m sorry too,” she said finally.

  I arched a brow. “Yeah?”

  She sighed. “I—yes. But, Matthew?”

  I tipped my head. “What, doll?”

  “Let’s not fight anymore tonight.”

  I leaned in a few inches. Not because I was trying to kiss her, although the idea did cross my mind. I just wanted to get a better look at her. This close, I could see a sprinkle of tiny freckles along the straight line of her nose. I wanted to touch them. Trace them. Learn them by heart.

  “Done,” I promised.

  She inhaled sharply. Her hand fluttered out. Shyly, she touched the edge of my vest, tracing its diagonal path across my chest. I fought the urge to clasp it there. Force her to feel the way my heart was beating a little faster. Just for her.

  “You’re very well dressed,” she said softly. Her hand continued to outline the vest, over the edge of my shoulder, which I did keep up at the gym, thank you very fuckin’ much.

  “If you’re going to do something, I think you should do it right?” I said. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

  She stared at the progress of her fingers. I didn’t move a goddamn muscle.

  “I suppose I do,” she said. “My family likes things done…properly, I suppose. No white after Labor Day. Skirts below the knees to church services. That sort of thing.”

  I looked her over again, enjoying the excuse to ogle her as openly as she was me. “That looks like white to me. And excuse me for noticing, but it’s January. Well past Labor Day.”

  “This isn’t white,” she protested. Her hand flattened on my chest. And didn’t move away. “It’s pearl.”

  I raised a brow. “Looks like white to me.” I fingered a bit of her sleeve, butter-soft silk. Nice stuff. A lot better than the polyester shit I could afford if I ever bought anything new. “Very nice.”

  “Yours—it’s very—” Nina cleared her throat. “I mean to say, you look very nice too.” She eyed my vest and pants with a practiced eye. “How does a prosecutor afford Armani? Did you have a private practice at one time?”

  I swallowed again, thickly. It wasn’t easy having someone as gorgeous as this looking at my inseam. I cleared my throat too. “I—one of my sisters owns a vintage shop uptown. She gives me first pick of the menswear.”

  Every tease and taunt my sisters had tossed at me over the years for my old-school preferences were worth it in this moment. The way Nina was looking at me, I didn’t think I’d ever wear anything less than a full three-piece suit again.

  Finally, her gaze drew back up, widening when it met mine. The naked hunger I felt must have been plain—and why not, with a girl like this? Why hide it?

  “It fits you,” she said as she fingered my tie. Her thumb drifted over the clip, toying with the chain. “It’s very…dignified.”

  “Dignified?”

  She tugged on my tie, and the pull sent a current straight down to my dick. Goddamn. The time for small talk was over. Real talk. Deep talk. Any type of talk. I needed to yank this thing off and use it to tie Nina to her bed. I needed that mouth on mine, and then I needed it a bit lower too.

  Dirty. I needed Nina on her knees, begging, pleading, absolutely filthy with desire.

  “This green,” she said as she stared at the stone at the center of the tie clip. “It matches your eyes.” She looked up. “But you’re Italian.”

  I nodded. “I am.”

  “But your eyes are so…brilliantly green. Dark, but still vibrant.”

  Her tug on my tie intensified, though I wasn’t sure she even noticed. She seemed as entranced by me as I was of her.

  “They change color depending on my mood. When I’m calm or bored, they’re closer to brown. But when I’m charged up. Upset. Happy. Inspired. That’s when they turn green.”

  “And are you…inspired…now?”

  “You could say that.”

  My gaze drifted to her lips, soft pink pillows that begged to be kissed. I wondered if she was the type who liked a lot of tongue. Or if she would be too shy to do anything more than closed-mouth. Nina was buttoned up tight, but something told me she was like a caged tiger, dying to be let out.

  You just had to have the right key.

  “You looking for a bit of color, sweetheart?” I asked.

  Immediately, she drew into herself. “Why do you ask?”

  I smiled. “Well, Ms.…I’m sorry, what did you say your last name is, anyway?”

  “I didn’t. Why do you need my last name?”

  Her tone was sharp again. Imperious. Which only made me want to toy with her more.

  “Because you look like you’re used to being addressed by it, that’s all.”

  Her diamond eyes glittered with the challenge. “All right,” she said. “It’s…Astor. Nina Astor.”

  “Was that so hard?” I leaned closer, enjoying the way her fair skin heated under my breath. “But fair warning, doll. If I ever call you Ms. Astor, it will be when you’re on your knees. Doing exactly as I say.”

  When I backed away, she had that perfectly pink lip clenched so tightly between her teeth, I thought she might draw blood.

  “You’re very…impertinent.”

  I raised a brow and took a sip of wine. “Am I?”

  I guessed I was. It was a little strange, actually. Normally I was the reticent one. Content to be led. I enjoyed the chase, sure, but mostly the game. The part where I let a woman’s inner desires come out and dictate the terms. See how I could twist them around. I wasn’t a rule-breaker, per se. I just let them take the first steps.

  But not this one. As Nina’s ice-gray eyes traveled up and down my body with the heat of a glass forge, I was ready to toss the rulebook out the window. Maybe it was because she obviously wasn’t from around here. Maybe it was because she so clearly needed to be knocked off that prim pedestal. Something about her pristine appearance made me want to mess everything up. On my terms, not hers.

  I finished my wine, set the glass on the bar with an unnecessary force, then stood up to put on my coat. “You want to get out of here, princess? Continue this conversation somewhere a little more…private?”

  Nina stilled. “What did you call me?”

  Okay, then. Obviously the wrong pet name. Of course, that only made me want to use it more.

  “Princess,” I said with a sly grin as I leaned on the bar just a few inches from her. I was invading her space, and it made her uncomfortable. I didn’t give a shit.

  I reached out and twirled a bit of her golden hair around one finger. “You’re all dainty and shit, sitting on your throne, sipping on your wine. Like a princess. It fits.”

  She swallowed, looking fairly angry angry, although the way her tight nipples were pointing at me through her blouse said she felt a lot more than that. Inwardly, I shrugged. Angry sex was just fine by me.

  “I don’t like being called princess,” she informed me, though she didn’t bat my hand away.

  I tugged on the lock. She inhaled sharply. I dropped her hair and toyed with the edge of her blouse instead, slipping it over the curve of one shoulder. Good fuckin’ Christ, she was a work of art. All it took was a few inches of her bare skin, and I was about ready to embarrass myself.

  “Fair enough,” I said. “Now. You coming or not?”

  Six

  Outside, the rain had finally stopped. We wouldn’t have been able to see the stars above New York’s glow even if they had been there, but the cool, dry air was a welcome reprieve from the dank of the bar. I was a son of this city, but there were definitely days when I felt like it would strangle me.

  Nina, however, started shivering almost immediately. She was tal
l and slim, with the build of a ballerina, so it was no surprise that the cold passed right through her.

  “Can you walk a bit, doll?” I asked Nina as she hurried on a gray cashmere coat. “Might warm us up. I need a bite to eat after all that wine.”

  “I—yes, I could eat. Somewhere close, though?” She looked at her feet. “I’m so sorry, but I’m afraid these shoes weren’t made for long treks.”

  “Don’t ever apologize for those shoes.”

  I was rewarded with another mild blush and a murmur of something like, “I’m glad you like them.” I took Nina’s hand, and for a split second, the cold disappeared as a shock of heat passed through my fingertips. Jesus, Mary, this was some kind of electricity.

  Nina started as if she’d felt it too. Her bright eyes found mine, then drifted to my lips. For a moment, I considered kissing her. I’d wanted to for hours at that point, and I was pretty sure she wanted it as well. But she had a skittish quality that reminded me of the alley cats by my house, like if I took a step too quickly, she’d bolt.

  Instead, I raised her hand to examine it. Her skin was so fair, almost translucent. I could practically see her pulse moving. Slowly, I pressed a kiss over the lace of veins that crisscrossed just below her knuckles.

  Nina sucked in a breath. When I dropped our hands, she had her other one pressed to her chest, as if to hold her heart in place. I couldn’t blame her. One brief touch, and mine was practically jumping out of my chest.

  “You all right there, beautiful?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Yes, I—I just thought…”

  I cocked my head. “You thought what?”

  She blinked, looking a bit embarrassed. “I thought you were going to kiss me.”

  I knew it.

  I shrugged. “I thought about it. But I figured I’d be a gentleman and wait until you asked.”

  At that, amusement danced over her glossy features. “A gentleman from the Bronx,” she murmured.

  “Well, Brooklyn, now.”

  “Brooklyn?”

  “I live in Red Hook. Closer to work than the Bronx.”

  The side of Nina’s mouth quirked. “Red Hook comes from the Dutch, did you know that? It was one of the largest ports in New York until the 1960s. My family actually ran part of it until it closed.”

  I cocked my head. “A little shipping family history?”

  She blushed under the streetlight. “You could say that. Sorry, it must be rather dull for someone like you.”

  “Someone like me?”

  She shrugged.

  “Nina?”

  She looked up, and the uncertainty there just about killed me. I didn’t understand it—one moment, she seemed to have all the poise and confidence in the world, the next she was as shy as a small child. What caused something like that?

  Where had Nina Astor come from?

  Tentatively, I slipped a hand around her waist and guided her closer. Her breath grew just a bit coarser.

  “Just so we’re clear,” I said, “you could read the damn phone book, and it would sound like Puccini to me.”

  She blinked. “Is that a good thing? A lot of people don’t care for opera.”

  “A lot of people are idiots.” I smiled. “Opera is the language of love, baby. It doesn’t get better than that.”

  Again, her eyes drifted down to my mouth, and I found myself staring at hers too. It was such a beautiful thing, like two rose petals waiting to be parted. I found myself wondering what they would look like painted in red. For all her chilled beauty, Nina reminded me of a blank canvas, begging to be splashed with color.

  Well, I thought as I considered the way she blushed under the right conditions, there’s more than one way to skin a cat.

  I leaned in. A kiss, just one kiss. Its own kind of aperitivo, a precursor of what, God willing, might come another time, another day, maybe even another hour.

  “Maybe I’m not such a gentleman after all,” I growled.

  But before we made contact, Nina pressed a hand to my chest and stepped away. “I—we should eat.” She sounded like she had just run a mile rather than stared at my mouth for a solid thirty seconds.

  I cocked my head. “You sure about that, doll? I can think of…other…things we might do.”

  But she shook her head stubbornly. “No, no. You said you were hungry. I have to take care of you too, Matthew.”

  Her shy smile melted my cold, Bronx-born heart. It was easy to be disillusioned with people in this city, even more so when you knew exactly what kind of filth lurked in its sewers. Maybe that was what was wrong with me tonight. I was so used to assuming everyone wanted something. If a stranger said “Hello,” my immediate reply was, “What do you want?” Maybe I needed a face like this, a smile like this, to remind me that light still existed in New York after all.

  If that were the case, I could be patient. A woman like Nina was meant to be savored. Sipped like a fine wine.

  And if she wanted to take care of me too, I was more than happy to let her.

  We passed several restaurants on Orchard Street that seemed fine to me, but Nina took one look at the crowded interiors and shook her head.

  “You know a lot of people usually indicates good food, right?” I joked after she turned down the fourth one.

  She looked slightly embarrassed. “Yes, I do know that. I only—well, I’d prefer a bit of quiet. It’s hard to have a conversation when you’re trying to shout over a mob.”

  Conversation, huh? Is that what we were doing here?

  But I sensed she wasn’t interested in being teased, and instead allowed her to choose a place on Rivington that had only a few patrons, dim lighting, and a full bar. Well, if she wanted privacy, that was fine by me. I’d already informed her plainly that I wasn’t much of a prince.

  “Do you like to share?” I asked as we opened the menus. It was a small plates restaurant, where the food was meant to be eaten family style instead of consumed separately.

  Nina nodded. “I do. I never get to, but I do.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “Do you eat alone a lot?”

  For a moment, her face shuttered. “I—yes. Yes, I do.”

  Again, her response caused another unnecessarily strong bolt of anger. This was someone who should have admirers every night of the damn week. She should have a husband, a family, a whole host of people to come home to. Maybe I was benefiting from the fact that she was lonely, but it still pissed me off. I barely knew Nina Astor, but she didn’t deserve that.

  We ordered an assortment of appetizers—Nina was open to anything—and a bottle of wine pricey enough that I’d be drinking nothing but free crap at Jamie’s for a month. This place wasn’t cheap, that was for sure, and Nina plainly enjoyed the finer things in life. But it was worth it. It was worth getting to watch her close her eyes and moan with pleasure every time she tried something new.

  “You like to eat,” I observed sometime later.

  Nina stilled with her napkin to her lips, like she’d been caught stealing cookies. The idea made me chuckle.

  “Baby, you don’t need to be ashamed,” I said, batting her hand away. “I like watching you eat.” I picked up a prosciutto-wrapped date and held it out, urging her to take a bite.

  She examined the date, then me, then obediently opened her mouth. I watched, entranced by the way her lips wrapped around the small bit of fruit, by the softness of their texture when they pressed against my finger. Jesus fuck, I wanted her to do that to something else. Something a bit bigger.

  I popped the rest of the date into my mouth, enjoying the way her eyes opened wide at the sight.

  “I just had my mouth all over that.”

  I grinned. “Well, you haven’t let me kiss you, yet. It’s the next best thing.”

  “You’re incorrigible,” Nina said, then sighed. “I have a feeling that if I spend more time with you, I’ll gain ten pounds in a week.”

  “And I have a feeling you’d look like a queen either way,” I replie
d. “What next?”

  She eyed the food, then forked a couple of asparagus spears onto her plate. “How did you end up in Red Hook?” she asked as she cut herself a bite.

  “Well, I’ve lived in Brooklyn for almost…shit, seven years now,” I said. “Since I first started at the DA’s office. I was able to buy my house in Red Hook about five years ago, before the market really changed.”

  “Even then it was shifting. It only took you two years to save a down payment?”

  I shook my head. “We all got a bit from my grandfather when he passed. That, plus the benefits of a VA loan made it possible. But the house was still a shit hole. Took me five full years to make it livable, even with renters on the bottom floor to cover the mortgage. My sister and I shared a place in Sheepshead Bay until just last month, when we were able to move.”

  “Your sister lives with you?”

  I nodded as I tore off a bit of bread. “Yeah, with her daughter. They’re a pain in the ass sometimes, but she helps with the mortgage, and I feel good knowing my niece has a safe place to come home to, you know? Her dad ran off a while back. She needs a good man in her life.”

  “Every child needs role models,” Nina said quietly, inordinately focused on her food. “It’s good of you to provide for them. Especially when she’s not yours.”

  “She’s family. That’s what families do. Good ones, anyway.”

  It didn’t occur to me until after I’d said it that it was a bit insensitive, given the story Nina had told me earlier. But I stood by it. Truthfully, my big family was just as dysfunctional as anyone’s. We just happened to love each other too.

  For a moment, a part of me wanted to bring Nina home. If she came from a cold place, people who would just abandon each other at the drop of a hat, I wanted to warm her up with pasta and shouting and wine and people. Watch my sisters interrogate her over her clothes and hair, let the kids climb all over her with toys and sticky fingers, then have Nonna stuff her with amarettos until the she couldn’t eat another bite. There’s peace in certain kinds of chaos. I wanted Nina to know mine. For some reason, I thought she might like it.