by Patricia Kay
Five minutes after that episode, Guy D’Amato entered Nicole’s cubicle and leaned over her desk. “Hi.” He smiled.
Oh, dear, she thought. Not today. “Hi, Guy,” she said with a sigh.
“How’s it going today?”
Nicole made a face. “I’ve had better days.”
“Oh?” His gray eyes clouded with concern, and he pushed his glasses up on his nose.
Why did Guy have to be so nice? she wondered. She would have taken great pleasure in brushing off someone like Barry, but Guy was another story. She inclined her head toward Barry’s alcove and muttered, “I’m having problems with the new associate.”
“Oh. Well, he’ll learn.”
“Yeah, but will I live long enough?” She grinned. “Actually, will he live long enough? If he doesn’t straighten out his act soon, I’ll probably poison him.”
Guy gave an appreciative laugh. “Not you. You’re too nice.”
That’s exactly what I was thinking about you.
He cleared his throat. “Uh, I was hoping you’d have some time for me this weekend.”
“Oh, Guy, I’m sor—”
“Don’t say no again, Nicole. I’ve hardly seen you for two weeks.”
Nicole bit her bottom lip, remembering she’d half promised him the previous Friday, when she’d pleaded exhaustion, that she’d try to clear time for him this weekend.
“First you went home for the weekend, then last weekend you were too tired because of all the overtime…” His voice trailed off.
Why did he remind her of a dog who just wants someone to pat him on the head and tell him they like him? Why couldn’t Guy produce tingles and shivers and butterflies and all those symptoms that made a woman want to go out with a man? A vivid image of Jack—suntanned face, blue, blue eyes, and irresistible grin—flashed through her mind.
She could hardly believe only two weeks had gone by since she’d met Jack. He was already more important to her than Guy could ever be. The knowledge saddened her. “Guy,” she said gently. “I really am sorry, but it doesn’t look good for this weekend, either. I.. .I have a friend in town, and I’m going to be tied up.”
His face filled with disappointment.
Oh, God. She hated to hurt him. She hated to hurt anyone. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
His eyes were filled with a hurt he didn’t even try to disguise. He shrugged, the gesture poignant and resigned.
“I...” Oh, shoot. “Maybe we can get together Sunday night.” The minute she made the offer, she was sorry. “I can’t promise anything, but give me a call Sunday afternoon, okay?”
His hopeful expression made her feel terrible.
After he walked away, she knew she was going to have to do something about Guy... and soon. It wasn’t fair to him to let him think there could ever be anything between them. At one time, she might have kidded herself into thinking she’d come to care for him. But now that she’d met Jack and realized that what she was looking for actually existed, she knew there’d never be any hope for her and Guy.
The trouble was, there wasn’t any hope for her and Jack, either.
* * *
Jack had really missed Nicole more than he’d ever thought possible. He didn’t know how it had happened, but she had, in a short space of time, become important to him. He knew it was probably foolish to have accepted her invitation for the evening, but he couldn’t help being glad she’d invited him to tag along with her and her boss.
He didn’t know what people wore to a Cajun restaurant where they played zydeco music and danced, but he didn’t really have much choice. All he’d brought with him was one suit—which he darned sure knew he shouldn’t wear—and casual clothes. He figured in the unlikely event he needed anything dressier, he could buy it. So far he hadn’t felt the need to go shopping.
After looking through his meager supply of clothing, Jack decided on one of his newer pairs of jeans and a royal blue crewneck sweater. He checked himself out in the mirror, decided he didn’t look bad and picked up his jacket and keys.
It didn’t take long at all to get to Nicole’s, and he ended up being fifteen minutes early. It was only six forty-five. He parked the car in the driveway, noticed that except for the back porch light, no lights shone at the Reed-Douglas house.
He walked along the back path to Nicole’s cottage. He rang the bell, a nice feeling of expectation firing his gut.
Nicole opened the door and smiled, a smile that socked him in the solar plexus. “Hi,” she said brightly. “You’re early. Come on in. The sitter’s not here yet, but she should be any minute. She just lives up the street.” She stood aside.
He walked past her, then turned. When he got his first full look at her, he thought his heart would give out.
Lord have mercy, he thought. There ought to be a law or something.
She looked incredible. Sassy. Sexy. Stunning. He couldn’t think of any word that did her justice. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.
She was wearing a short black leather skirt that ended midthigh, paired with black tights that hugged her long, lovely legs. On her feet were patent leather shoes with tiny heels.
Clinging to her torso like a second skin was a long-sleeved, round-necked, black knit top studded with silver bangles and sequins. The delectable curves of her full breasts were outlined in breathtaking clarity.
Slowly, his gaze traveled up, past the enticing arch of her slender neck to her faintly flushed cheeks and bright eyes. Her hair tumbled around her face in wild curls, and long, sparkly silver-and-crystal earrings dusted her shoulders. She knew he was inspecting her. She probably knew exactly what reaction he was experiencing.
Their gazes met. She lifted her chin, dark eyes flashing.
Jack decided she was magnificent.
He loved her outfit.
And he knew she knew he loved it.
In a voice not quite steady, he said, “You look great.”
“Thanks. These are my dancin’ clothes.” She grinned.
She walked ahead of him into the living room, and Jack wiped his suddenly clammy hands against his jeans.
To cover his agitation, he sat down on a love seat and crossed his legs. To his relief, Aimee came racing into the room a second or so later. She looked adorable in pink bunny-footed pajamas, her cheeks a matching shade. Her blond curls were still damp from her bath. She grinned when she saw him. “Jack Rabbit!”
“I think you’re the rabbit tonight,” he said, grinning at her, thinking if he could be sure he’d have a child like Aimee, he might not mind having children. He pointed at her feet.
She giggled, the sound warm and wonderful. She peeked at him through her long lashes. She was definitely going to be a charmer. Rather like her mother, he thought, giving Nicole a glance over Aimee’s head.
He was disconcerted by the expression in Nicole’s eyes, an expression she quickly covered by saying brightly, “Did you brush your teeth, sugar?”
“Uh-huh,” Aimee said with a nod. She grinned at Jack again.
He grinned back, wondering what that expression had been. Could it have been wistful? And if so, what had it meant?
Just then there was a knock on the door, and Nicole stood and walked over to answer it. As she passed by Jack, he caught a whiff of her perfume—something that smelled like sandalwood and jasmine.
“Hi, Heather! You’re right on time,” Nicole said.
A pretty red-headed teenager walked into the room, and Aimee shouted, “Heather!”
“Hi, Aimee,” the girl said. She gave Jack a shy look.
Nicole introduced them, then proceeded to give Heather some instructions. “Don’t let her stay up past eight o’clock. She can have some ice cream, but she’ll have to brush her teeth again if she does. The ice cream is in the freezer. And help yourself to soft drinks or chips or whatever you want. You know where everything is.”
Heather nodded.
“And we’ll be at Michaul’s in case of an emergency. I wrote the
number down by the phone,” Nicole continued. “Oh, and the Reed-Douglases will be home by ten or so, so if you should need them—”
“I know. Don’t worry.”
Within minutes, they were on their way. Jack had never been as aware of anyone as he was of Nicole sitting so close to him in his two-seater car. Her scent filled his senses. She hadn’t put her jacket on, and the sequins and bangles on her shirt glittered in the darkness. Jack wanted to touch her more than he’d wanted anything in a long time. She reminded him of the North Star, so radiant and so beautiful it overshadowed everything in its realm.
He couldn’t remember when he’d last felt this way. The only experience at all similar was when he was a sophomore in high school and Susan Richardson, the most beautiful girl at his school, had been his date for a big dance. He’d been so excited, and so hopeful, and so scared. Jack could still recall exactly how he’d felt when he’d kissed her, how his hands had shaken, how his heart had pounded.
He felt exactly the same way now.
Only now he was a grown man, and the feelings were much more powerful.
Nicole Cantrelle was as dangerous to his equilibrium and his future as a stick of dynamite wired to go off at the first touch.
Michaul’s was more and less than Jack had expected. It was not pretentious at all. The floors were bare, the tables were plain, the decor was more warehouse than restaurant. But the band, three young Cajun men and a thin woman who played the washboard, were terrific. Their music was infectious and toe-tapping, although Jack couldn’t understand a word they were singing. They all sounded as if they had mouths full of marbles.
He and Nicole had arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early, so they were already seated close to the bandstand when Julianne arrived.
“There’s Julianne,” Nicole said, rising to meet her.
Jack watched curiously as she walked over to a short, dark-haired young woman. They hugged, and then, arms linked, walked toward Jack.
“Julianne, I’d like you to meet Jack Forrester. Jack, this is Julianne Belizaire, my boss and my friend.”
Jack extended his hand. Julianne’s hand was small, her handshake firm.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said in a rapid, precise voice with only a trace of a Southern accent. She grinned. “All good, of course.”
She had a nice smile, and a direct, honest gaze. Her round face was spattered with freckles, and her eyes looked green or hazel. He wasn’t sure which. He decided he liked her.
For the next hour he enjoyed listening to the two women talk. At first he’d thought they were a study in contrasts, but now he was beginning to realize there were a lot of similarities between them. They were both lively, animated women with the gift of warmth. And he could see how much they liked each other, something that impressed him. In his experience, if a woman didn’t have women friends, she was probably a woman he’d rather steer clear of.
After they’d all eaten and the table was cleared away, like an unseen signal had been given, two men walked over to the table. They nodded to Jack, then looked at Nicole and Julianne.
Nicole smiled. “Hi, Don, Grady. How are y’all doin’?” Jack smiled at Nicole’s new persona. He wondered if she even realized that she’d lapsed into her native accent.
“We’re doin’ fine,” the tallest man drawled. “We’re glad to see y’all back. Y’all haven’t been around for a coupla weeks.” He reached out his hand, and Nicole stood. The other man went around for Julianne.
Nicole slanted Jack a glance. She smiled. “You don’t mind, do you, Jack?”
He shook his head. “No, of course not. Go ahead.”
He turned his chair so he could watch her dance.
The band struck up a lilting number, with a catchy rhythm that Jack would have been hard-pressed to define. He noticed how almost everyone in the place got up for this dance and how different it seemed to be from the others he’d witnessed.
The dance floor was huge, a football-shaped field designed to hold a lot of people and give them room to move freely. All the dancers stood in rows, not paired. They all moved independently, but their moves all matched. They dipped and turned, and did intricate footwork.
All the waiters and waitresses were up there, too. Jack wished he had some dancing ability. He would have loved to be there with them.
Even though Jack couldn’t dance himself, he recognized excellence when he saw it. And Nicole was spectacular. Her body moved fluidly and effortlessly. Her head swayed from side to side, and with each movement the glittery earrings and tank top flashed and sparkled.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
When the dance was over she stayed on the floor, and this time the tall man who’d come to get her put his arms around her and they began an energetic, foot-stomping dance to much faster music. Nicole’s hair swirled out each time her partner twirled her around, and her head was thrown back in laughter most of the dance. Jack couldn’t prevent a twinge of envy as he saw how much fun she was having. His only consolation was there was nothing remotely romantic about the dance.
The next dance was different.
The next dance was slow and seductive, and Nicole’s partner pulled her close, and the two of them moved as one through the steps, their bodies closely meshed.
Jack’s stomach twisted into knots as he watched them. He saw how Nicole’s partner had one hand resting low on her back. He gritted his teeth. An inch lower and he’d be caressing her butt. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the two of them.
“Hey, it’s only a dance.”
He started. Julianne had sat down across from him. He hadn’t even been aware she’d come back to the table. She smiled knowingly. “Don’s just a dancing friend. Nicole doesn’t date him. She never has. There’s no reason for you to be jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” Jack said quickly, too quickly.
In answer, Julianne’s smile broadened. Her eyes gleamed. “Sure looks like it to me.”
“Well, maybe, just a little—”
She chuckled. “At least you’re honest. Some guys would never admit to being jealous.”
“Nicole seems to bring out all sorts of new feelings in me.”
Julianne’s expression sobered. “Jack, I know this is none of my business, but I’m going to say it anyway. I can see how attracted to Nicole you are. I don’t really blame you. She’s a wonderful girl. But—”
“But what?”
Julianne sighed. “She’s extremely vulnerable. I know she doesn’t look it. On the surface she seems bold and confident and completely sure of herself. She looks as if she knows the score, as if she can handle anything. But that’s not the real Nicole. The real Nicole has a tremendous need for love and security. She needs someone she can count on, someone who can give her a lasting relationship. She especially needs someone who won’t take everything she has to give, then run out on her.”
“Is that what you think I’d do?” He wanted to be angry with Nicole’s friend, but her words were too disturbing. They echoed his own feelings too accurately.
“Isn’t it?” Julianne challenged.
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Well, Jack, I suggest you give this matter some thought, and decide whether you will or you won’t. And if you decide you don’t want the things Nicole wants, I strongly suggest you pack up your marbles and go home.
Chapter 8
Pack up your marbles and go home.
The words reverberated in Jack’s brain. Throughout the evening, each time his gaze met Julianne’s, he remembered the admonition. And when he and Nicole, after seeing Julianne safely to her car, were on their way back to Nicole’s home, he remembered them again.
The evening had been wonderful.
The evening had been terrible.
Wonderful because he’d so enjoyed being with Nicole and watching her dance.
Terrible because he knew Julianne was right.
I won’t touch her tonight. She’s set the
ground rules, and I’ll follow them.
But when they walked together through the inky darkness toward her front door, Nicole only tempting inches away, her scent surrounding him in the navy night, he wondered if he’d be able to stick to his determination.
He didn’t really have a choice.
When they reached Nicole’s door, she promptly opened it. And Heather, the baby-sitter, was sitting right there, in the living room. She looked up as they entered. “Hi. Did you have fun?”
“Yes, lots of fun,” Nicole said.
And then she asked him if he’d mind taking Heather home.
“No, I can walk,” the girl protested. “It’s only half a block. I’ll call my dad like I usually do.”
“There’s no need since Jack is here.”
Jack guessed he should be grateful Nicole had made things so easy for him.
While Heather gathered her things, he said, “I really enjoyed tonight. Thanks.”
She smiled, causing his heart to speed up. That smile of hers was as potent as 100-proof scotch. “I’m glad you came.”
“Is it okay if I give you a call tomorrow?”
“Sure.” Her dark eyes held an unreadable expression. Later that night, as he tried to go to sleep, he went over and over everything that had happened that night. How he’d felt seeing Nicole. His emotions when he watched her dancing with other men. What Julianne had said. And especially those fleeting emotions he’d glimpsed in Nicole’s eyes—first when he had been talking to Aimee, then when she’d said goodbye.
What would have happened between them if Heather hadn’t been there? Would he have been strong enough to withstand his attraction to Nicole? Or would his good intentions have evaporated under the powerful emotions and desires she elicited?
And what would she have done if he’d gathered her into his arms and kissed her? Would she have pushed him away, reminded him of their agreement?
Or would she have succumbed to the electrical charge that sizzled between them?
Would she have let him come into her bed?