by Debra Dixon
“I know all of that, Bess. I’ve watched him too. Watched him chase and catch anything in a skirt. But I’m not my father. I don’t chase women.”
She shot him an irritated look. “No, you don’t. And why should you? You haven’t the faintest notion what qualities are the ones that make a marriage work. I should have fought your father over those damned boarding schools. They didn’t teach you anything. What you needed was a home, not some fancy education. But your dad was dead set on you getting the best education money could buy. His way of making up for the mothers you couldn’t keep. He taught you how to quit. He taught you how to be just like him.”
“Thank you for that inspiring reading of my character, Bess. Are you finished yet, or do you want to accuse me of a few mass murders?”
“No, I’d like to shake some sense into you. I’d like you to realize how lucky you are. You’ve had a political career handed to you on a silver platter. But you’re walking around with that look on your face—the one I saw on your face every time a woman patted you on the head, got in a cab, and drove away. And as for today, I’m tired of watching you pick up the phone and put it down without dialing.”
“Bess, I do not want to talk about this.” Zach shifted in the chair and drummed his fingers against the arm.
“Of course you don’t,” she said.
Zach leaned forward. “Bess, this is my life, and you are meddling.”
“Do you love her? The way your grandpa loved me?”
Sighing, Zach said, “I don’t know.”
“And you never will if you don’t go after her. You’ll lose her to somebody who’s got more guts than you. And you’ll deserve to lose her.”
Zach gave a short humorless laugh. “That’s the best part, Bess. If going after her would have made any difference, I would have already done it. She doesn’t want me or Cutter’s Creek. And until she comes to me, there isn’t a damn thing I can do. Except want her.”
“What is this woman’s name?”
“Niki Devlin. Nicolette Devlin.” Zach waited for a reaction from Bess, but she did nothing more than turn her head in thought.
“Ah, Nicolette. I see.”
Frustrated, Zach slammed his hand hard on the chair. “Does everybody know about Niki except me? What the hell is her deep, damn, dark secret anyway?”
Raising her eyebrow, Bess said, “I suggest you ask Nicolette that question.”
The noon sun was finally beginning to warm the day when Niki plumped up her determination and reached for the brass knocker. Squaring her shoulders, she knocked twice.
When the door opened, Niki wasn’t surprised to find herself looking into piercing gray eyes. However, she had expected the look to come downward from Zach’s familiar eyes instead of upward from an elderly woman. The woman wore one big fuzzy white bunny slipper and leaned on an elegant black cane.
“I have a bunion on my toe.”
Niki was prepared to answer simple opening questions like “Who are you?” and “What do you want?” But she wasn’t clear on the appropriate response to “I have a bunion on my toe.” Finally she said, “I’m sorry. I’m sure it must be painful.”
“Hurts like hell. I’ve wandered around here for the past week, banging my foot into walls, chair legs, footstools, you name it. Yesterday my grandson saw these damn bunny slippers in Devlin’s and brought them home.”
By biting the inside of her lip, Niki managed to contain the amusement that threatened to escape into laughter. “I see. You’re wearing the bunny slipper for therapeutic reasons.” Niki nodded her head sagely. “Entirely understandable.”
The woman shook her head at Niki’s polite understanding and tapped her cane against the marbled entryway. “Nothing worse than a vain old woman, is there?”
“A foolish young one.”
The older woman chuckled, but stopped suddenly. She gave Niki a hard, long look. “Dammit. You must be the Devlin girl.”
Startled, Niki said, “Yes, I am, but how—”
“You have your father’s eyes. If that irritating grandson of mine keeps getting what he wants, he’s never going to learn to fight and hold on tight. I’m Bess Weston. Come in, and careful of my toe.”
This time Niki didn’t bother to squelch her smile as she followed Bess and her bunny slipper. She’d come to find Zach, but she had an odd feeling that she’d fallen down a rabbit hole and found the Mad Hatter.
By the time Zach came downstairs, he’d begun to wonder who was paying a call on his grandmother. When the tip of Brass’s tail disappeared into the study, Zach heard a startled feminine exclamation followed by the unmistakable sound of china clattering to the floor.
“Brass, down!” Zach yelled, and sprinted toward the study.
“Zachary Phillip Weston!”
Wincing, Zach wasn’t sure he wanted to follow Brass into the room. When his grandmother used that tone, everyone on the ranch tiptoed. Summoning his courage, Zach strode into the room, words of apology and soothing calm on the tip of his tongue. But his carefully chosen words vanished the moment his brain registered the scene in front of him. Brass lay quietly amid a confetti of china. Bess leaned heavily on her cane and scowled meaningfully at him—and Niki Devlin sat in his favorite chair, pressing a hand to her mouth, trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile.
Niki Devlin back in Wyoming, in his house, in his chair, talking to his grandmother. Only concern about shocking Bess prevented him from crossing the room and tasting Niki’s smile with his lips. He wanted to snatch her up and reacquaint his senses with the softness of her hair as he pulled it free of her prim and proper French braid. He wanted to drown in the wonderful scent that was uniquely Niki. But he couldn’t. Not while Bess stood tapping her good foot and demanding his attention. Instead he drank in the pleasure of moss green eyes as they returned his gaze. For the first time since Niki left, Zach let out the mental breath he’d been holding.
“I see now why Brass was in such a hurry,” he finally said, never taking his eyes from Niki, afraid if he did she’d disappear again. “And I can’t say that I blame him.”
“Well, I can blame the beast,” Bess announced in disgust as she looked down at the debris on the lush jewel-toned Oriental carpet. “He chipped a saucer and cracked the sugar bowl.”
Dragging his attention from Niki, Zach surveyed the damage. He released Brass with a flick of his thumb. “Sorry, Bess. I’ll find some replacement pieces. Promise.”
While he gathered up the china, Niki wondered how she could have forgotten the nervous flip of her stomach every time Zach looked at her, much less looked at her like a drowning man who’d just been thrown a life preserver. Too many intimate memories flooded through her. His voice still sent shivers skimming along her spine, and the restless power of his body was all too apparent as he’d stood there inviting her scrutiny.
As she hugged Brass, Niki began to have second thoughts about facing Zach and the past. She wanted to be in control of her emotions. She wanted to be sure she was making good decisions this time. But how could she trust herself if her physical attraction to Zach kept getting in the way of her judgment? The same breathless feeling she’d had on the cattle drive was already back, and she hadn’t been in the room with him for more than two minutes.
“Here, give me that,” Bess ordered. “You’d probably trip on your way to the kitchen and break the rest of it!” She took the tray from Zach and hobbled away, muttering. “Damn dog. It was bad enough when he ate my favorite red cardigan sweater as a puppy. That I could understand. But a grown dog running through the house, hell-bent for leather—” Bess stopped at the door and turned around. “Well, it’s not acceptable. Zach, you’ll have to entertain your own guest while I take care of this mess.”
A smile creased Zach’s face as he watched her go, silently saluting her tact. “Bess is about as good as they come.”
“Yes, she’s been very gracious.”
Turning back to face her, Zach said, “You didn’t come here to talk about my
grandmother.”
“No, I didn’t,” she agreed in a low voice.
“God, I’ve missed you, Cookie.”
Niki curled her fists and pressed them against her knees. “Don’t confuse me. I can’t think clearly when you look at me like that. When you make me want—”
Suddenly Zach was only a foot away from her, and his hand reached out for hers. “Then take what you want.”
Without thinking, Niki let him pull her into his arms. Let him fit her body to his. She looked into gray eyes that bathed her with desire and tried to see past the passion, into the shadows. She wanted to find out why he had reached into her heart and found a place for himself. All she could find was confidence and welcome, but no answer.
Zach smoothed a hand across her cheek and lowered his head. “A lot of things can happen in a week. I fell certifiably crazy in love with you in less than an hour. Welcome home, Niki.”
His lips grazed hers gently, toying with her bottom lip for a moment before capturing her mouth in earnest. In that one kiss, she knew he was staking claim to her and daring her to deny him. His tongue coaxed hers, flicking seductively. His kiss was slow and thorough. Tendrils of desire began to steal up her abdomen, leaving a heady warmth in their wake. A soft moan escaped her as she leaned into his embrace. In Zach’s arms she felt cradled and protected and sensual.
When Niki pressed against him, Zach knew he had to pull away. If he didn’t, he might as well scoop her up in his arms and carry her to the bedroom. Before he could change his mind, he grasped her shoulders and set her away from him.
“I could make a career out of kissing you, love of my life,” he admitted, raking a hand through his hair.
When Niki opened her eyes, he couldn’t suppress a boyish grin at the momentary expression of confusion on her face. Damned if he didn’t love knowing he could rattle this sophisticated woman who didn’t need rescuing!
Niki blinked, but couldn’t say a word. Once again her self-control had abandoned her in Zach’s presence. Her lips pulsed with the sensation of his kiss, while her mind began to spin. He said he loved her, and her reasons for coming to the ranch scattered. Without success, she struggled to form them into a rational sentence. She hadn’t intended to fall into his arms, and she’d never counted on him being the first to say “I love you.” He’d been hurt so many times when he trusted a woman enough to love her. Dear God, he’d said he loved her, and all she wanted to do was cry.
A discreet cough came from the doorway.
Reluctantly, Zach dropped his hand from Niki’s shoulder and turned to find Bess leaning on her cane. “And how long have you been standing here?”
“Long enough,” Bess replied. “John’s waiting to drive me to the church circle meeting. Nicolette, dear, any announcements I can pass along to your mother, since she’ll be at the meeting?”
“Oh, no! Don’t say anything,” Niki said quickly. “I mean, she doesn’t know I’m back yet.” She floundered for an explanation. “I’m surprising her.”
“I imagine you could surprise a lot of people if you put your mind to it,” Bess said reflectively. “Well, if you’re still here when I get back, I’ll tell you a few things about Zach that’ll make your hair curl. And then if you still want the scamp …” Bess let her words trail, then left.
An uneasiness began to tickle the back of Zach’s neck. His apprehension began the moment Niki admitted she hadn’t told her family she was home. She’d come two thousand miles, but she hadn’t come back. All the relief he’d felt upon seeing her again began to evaporate. He’d been wrong when he thought she had faced her past. Her eyes were full of doubts despite his having told her he loved her. To prevent himself from doing something he’d regret, he moved away from her and leaned against the doorjamb, trying to deal with his anger.
“Why haven’t you told your family that you’re here?”
“I can’t stay.” She braced herself for the storm she saw brewing in his eyes. She needed both legs firmly planted beneath her when she told him. Whatever happened then was up to Zach.
Zach studied her. Stone-washed jeans hugged curves he knew intimately, and a diamond pendant nestled in the valley formed by her breasts. He could still feel the softness of her angora sweater beneath his hands. If he remembered his crayon colors correctly, the sweater was sea foam green. And she looked great in sea foam green. Of course, he’d loved her with mud on her cheek too.
He suspected the pristine white leather tennis shoes on her feet were new and wondered if she’d tossed out her memories of the cattle drive with the ruined sneakers. No, he decided. She couldn’t have kissed him like that if she had. Logic, however, did not ease his anger.
“You can’t stay,” echoed Zach coldly. Sharp pain in his hands made him realize how tightly he was clenching them. “I should have guessed. You have your running shoes on.”
Ignoring his bitterness wasn’t easy for Niki. “I … Eli wants me back in New York pronto.” She shrugged as she laid the groundwork for a graceful exit if Zach didn’t want her after she told him why she’d run the first time. “He hates to edit over the telephone.”
“Tell him to write you a letter.” Zach’s tone was hard, firm. Alarms were ringing in his head. “Tell him to send you a fax. Didn’t you hear what I said? I by God love you, Niki Devlin, and you can’t keep running away.” He knew what Niki was going to say before she said it.
“I’ve already made a reservation, Zach.” Just in case. She stepped back as he came toward her.
“Cancel it.”
“I can’t do that.” Not yet. “Face it, Zach. What we had together was wonderful, but we both knew it would end.” Unconsciously Niki gripped the back of a chair for support.
“I didn’t know that. I don’t know that at all.”
Niki evaded his hand as he reached for her and put more space between them by moving to the desk. First she’d outline all the logical reasons. Anything to put off telling him that a relationship with her meant kissing his political career good-bye. “Long-distance relationships don’t work.”
“I’ll buy us both fifty-two round-trip tickets a year.”
“I’m not the same woman in New York. You don’t really know me.”
Zach’s hand slammed down on the desk she’d managed to put between them. “I know you. Dammit, Niki, I’ve been inside you. A part of you.” He stabbed a finger at his chest. His gray eyes glittered silver as he leaned on the desk. “This is me. I know you’re not some sweet little hometown girl. I’m not asking you to be. All I’m asking you to be is with me.”
Holding her breath, Niki took a leap of faith. “Zach, you once said you didn’t have a clue about my past until I flung it in your face.”
He straightened, unsure what she wanted to tell him, but knowing that he was finally about to meet the past that Niki guarded so well. He shut down his impulse to tell her it didn’t matter. She needed to say something, and he was determined to let her say it. “I remember.”
“At the time, you seemed to think losing my virginity to the football captain wasn’t much of a past.” Abruptly Niki sat down in the leather desk chair, willing herself to simply say it and get it over with. “But what you didn’t know is that I got pregnant.”
As he heard the words, all of the puzzle pieces began to fall into place for Zach. He hadn’t actually grown up in Cutter’s Creek, but he knew enough about small-town mentality to imagine the field day some of the people had with a juicy bit of gossip like that. He wanted to slip around the desk and tell her that it was all right, that he liked children, that whatever decision she’d made so many years ago had been hers to make. Instinctively, though, he knew that she wasn’t finished confessing. She needed to voice the words—a rush of words, apparently. Admitting she’d been a pregnant teenager was just the first crack in the dam.
Restlessly, Niki got up and crisscrossed her arms over her chest. “My football hero laughed and said it wasn’t his. Said I slept with half the school. Called me a pregnant sl
ut.” The words slid out like scorching steel, but she forced herself to continue. “And I found out that people like to believe bad things whether they’re true or not.”
“Poor sweet Niki,” Zach whispered, wanting more than anything to erase her pain.
A small bitter laugh escaped her. “Poor Niki? Not at first. They didn’t call me that right away. No, at first I was fast Nicolette Devlin. I didn’t become poor Nicolette Devlin until six months later when the baby d—” Niki stopped and grabbed a handful of sweater with each hand, fighting against the memories. “When I lost the baby in the sixth month of my pregnancy. So you see, I really do have a past, and small towns have long memories. You don’t want the town trollop on your arm. It wouldn’t be good for your career.”
“Niki!” Zach rounded the desk and dragged her into his arms, holding on to her so tightly, he thought he might break her. “Oh God, Niki. That’s the past. It can’t hurt me.” He pushed her far enough away to look into her eyes. In their murky green depths he saw the memories that haunted her and imagined how she must have felt—scared, abandoned, ridiculed, avoided, maybe even believing what was said about her. “It’s over, Niki, and I’m still here.”
The longer Niki listened, the deeper his words sank into her heart. He didn’t understand. She put both her hands on his chest, pushing with all her strength, but not budging him. “Don’t you understand? I can’t stay here. Your senator friend was right. The press will dig and dig until they find out about me. That will make a great headline.”
“It doesn’t matter. I belong with you,” Zach said softly, and as he said the words a crushing weight lifted from his chest. He belonged with Niki. He carried her in his heart, and nothing would ever convince him to give her up.
“You belong here. You have a life here.” Niki’s fragile control began to slip again, and she bit the inside of her cheek to steady her nerves. “I have a life in New York.”
“You can write your column anywhere you can plug in a computer,” Zach argued, and thumbed away a tear that shimmered on her lashes. “Or I’ll move to New York.”