by Leanne Banks
"You mention that a lot," he said. "But you never say much about your own family."
She waved her hand. "Oh, they were very different from the Danforths."
"Different doesn't have to mean worse."
"In this case it does," she said, but kept her tone light.
"I remember you saying you didn't have any brothers or sisters."
"That's right."
"And your mother?"
"She passed away a long time ago. I was ten."
He cocked his head to one side. "Did you live with your father?"
"No," she said, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. The main thing she remembered about her father was that he'd abandoned her and her mother long before her mother got sick. "Could we please stop? I don't like talking about this."
Abe paused and she could tell he had many more questions and wanted answers to all of them. "I wouldn't judge you," he finally said in a quiet voice. "My failures and lack of judgment have been paraded in front of you and everyone. It occurs to me that you know everything about me and I don't know half as much about you." His gaze held hers and she felt a slow tug in her belly. It was the same sensation she felt falling down a long, steep hill. A hill named Abraham Danforth.
"You know enough," she said.
He shook his head. "You've fascinated me. You've been a strong, vibrant, sexy, caring woman throughout the campaign. But there's more to you than that. I haven't seen the soft underbelly."
"I prefer to keep my underbelly protected," she said, feeling tense at the determined, intuitive expression in his eyes. Being Abe's campaign manager and lover had been exhilarating. The prospect of having his undivided attention for more than a night, however, terrified Nicola. Both of them had been so focused on the campaign that their lovemaking had felt like an overflow of the energy they generated together. His attitude suggested something more, something deeper.
"I can protect your underbelly or anything else that needs protecting," he said in a husky voice that made her blood feel like warm honey sliding through her veins.
She forced a smile. "Thanks, but no thanks. I don't need a protector. I'm a big girl."
"I'll say," he said, his gaze sliding over her curves in masculine appreciation. He stepped closer and she felt the sexual click between them. "But there's need and there's want. A big girl doesn't have to just settle for what she needs. She can get what she wants." He lowered his head and pressed his mouth against hers, tempting more than taking. Her body responded with breathtaking speed.
He slid his tongue over her lips, and he tasted like the most delicious, decadent candy she'd ever eaten.
And she was supposed to be on a strict diet, a diet which did not include tasting Abe. Nicola tried to pry her lips from his. She really did, but her mouth wasn't listening to her brain. He just felt so good.
Abe did the pulling back. "What do you want, Nic?" Her heart pounding a mile a minute, she inhaled and instantly regretted it. She loved the way his aftershave smelled on him. He didn't wear too much, just enough to make her want to bury her face in his throat. She shook her head and stepped back. "Sometimes what we want isn't the best thing for us," she said, wishing her voice didn't sound so breathless. "You are like Godiva chocolates. Eating too many of those will make me fat."
"Ah, but you forget. I'm calorie free. You won't gain any weight from indulging in me."
Nicola swallowed a hysterical laugh and coughed. Calorie free? The man had no idea, no clue. She would be the size of a beached whale before this was all over.
* * *
Abe sat across from his son Adam and stirred his coffee. Despite his best efforts to dissuade her, Nicola had moved out and Abe had spent the entire weekend without her and not liking it.
Adam took a sip of his coffee, running an assessing glance around the original D&D coffee shop for which he was a partner. "Good to see they're keeping up with the Christmas rush. We have a Christmas blend we've put together and it's moving so fast we can barely keep it in stock." He glanced at his father. "Guess everyone needs an extra jolt of java during the holidays. How do you like it?"
"Not bad," Abe said. "Cinnamon?"
"Right you are."
"Not all my taste buds have died yet," Abe said, cracking a grin.
Adam's forehead wrinkled. "What do you mean dying taste buds? Do you have a health problem?"
"Yes. It's called getting older. Taste buds die as you age. One more thing that goes—like hearing, your knees, your hair."
"Hmm," Adam said thoughtfully and paused for a moment. "Does this have anything to do with Nicola?"
Abe frowned. "Why do you ask?"
Adam shrugged. "Just Ian mentioned that you might be interested in her as more than a campaign manager. No big deal."
"What do you mean no big deal? She's almost twenty years younger than I am."
"Yeah, but you take care of yourself. You seem younger. Besides, maybe she's not interested in young guys."
"I don't know why not," Abe said, taking another sip of his holiday java.
"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" Adam asked, impatience cutting into his tone. "If the purpose for this meeting was to get my blessing for you to have a personal relationship with Nicola, you've got it."
Abe was speechless. "The purpose of this meeting was to spend some one-on-one time with you before I move to D.C. Why in hell do you think this is about Nicola?"
"Ian said you seemed pretty tripped up about her. He told me the stuff about how you and Mom weren't all that happy, too."
Abe sighed. "Has this been discussed among all of my children?"
"Well, yeah," Adam said. "It's not like any of us have had the most open relationship in the world with you. If any of us gets a peek into your secret window, we share."
"Am I still that unapproachable?"
"Yes and no," Adam said. "You've set the bar pretty high for all of us, and none of us want to be the one to pull down the Danforth image. I was surprised to hear that you ever had academic problems. It was reassuring to hear you weren't completely perfect."
"That's what Nicola said when she found out about it," he said, remembering the late, late night when his brain couldn't sort out the words in front of him. "Dyslexia. She found out by accident about 3:00 a.m. when I kept twisting words I was reading for a speech. I was too tired to read straight."
Adam dropped his jaw. "You're dyslexic?"
"Yes," Abe said, feeling a strange combination of vulnerability and relief. "That was why I made sure all of you had access to tutors if you needed them."
"I'm surprised Uncle Harold didn't ever mention it." He took a sip of his coffee. "Maybe he was trying to keep the myth alive."
Abe nodded. His brother was one of the great gifts of his life. "Maybe. That sounds like him, doesn't it?"
"Yeah. So Nicola got it out of you. That woman is sharp as a whip. A man would be stupid to let her get away. No way I was going to let Selene get away. I had to be creative and crafty as hell, but she was worth the trouble."
Curious, Abe met Adam's gaze. "Creative and crafty in what way?"
"I couldn't let her know exactly who I was at first. I sent her gifts. I used the message board in the shop to lure her," he said, cocking his head toward the board where customers posted messages. "I understand more than one romance has gotten started there."
Abe shook his head at his son's tactics. Abe had always been more direct. His relationships with women during the last few years had felt more like business arrangements than passionate affairs. With the exception of Nicola.
"Enough about me," Abe muttered. "How's everything with the wedding? Is Selene okay?"
"The wedding is December 12 at 7:00 p.m. Just in case you forgot to pencil it in your calendar."
Abe recognized the cynicism in his son's voice. Adam thought Abe had never paid any attention to him, but he was wrong. "I knew that. How are Selene and her father?" he asked knowing that Selene had felt terribly betrayed by her father for tryin
g to use her to save his political career.
Adam's gaze softened. "A little better," he said. "Nice of you to ask," he added grudgingly.
"It's become tradition that the groom's parents fund the honeymoon, but I'm sure you and Selene already have plans."
"Sure do."
Abe pulled a deed and map from his breast pocket. "So I bought you an island instead."
Adam gaped at him. "Excuse me?"
"I bought you an island in the Caribbean. Very small. There are some legends that pirates frequented it. I thought since you're a history buff, you might like that."
Adam unfolded the deed and map and shook his head. "You're kidding, aren't you?"
"No," Abe said. "It doesn't make up for the fact that I've been so unavailable all these years, but it's a personal token from me to you. I'm proud of you."
Adam stared at the papers then glanced at Abe. "Was this Nicola's idea?"
Abe felt a pinch of regret. In the past it would have been too close to the truth. "No. She suggested the honeymoon, and another option was a check. I wanted to give you something more personal."
"I don't know what to say."
"You don't need to say anything," Abe said. He knew he couldn't buy back the years he'd been gone or distracted with the challenge of the moment. "I'm sorry I wasn't around for you much when you were growing up. You're a grown man, successful. You don't need me now, but if you ever do need something, I'd be honored if you give me a call."
Adam glanced down and drummed his thumbs on the table. He lifted his head and looked at Abe skeptically. "This is a switch for you. What brought it on?"
Abe's chest tightened at how many twists and turns his life had taken during the last year. "I've spent a lot of time running. I always thought I was running up my next mountain, but I think I may have been running away from my failures as much as anything. It may seem like I spent the last year talking, but I found out quickly that I had to do more listening. You can't fix something you won't face."
"It's pretty late for that," Adam said.
Abe's chest tightened further. "Yeah, but I couldn't face myself if I didn't try."
Adam sat quietly for a long moment. "So maybe the old dog can learn a new trick or two after all," he said. "Time will tell."
"It will," Abe said. He'd known Adam wouldn't change his mind after one cup of coffee and a wedding gift. "Thanks for working me into your schedule," he said, grinning at his son.
"Maybe we can do it again sometime," Adam said.
"I'd like that," Abe said.
"Okay, just one more thing." Adam rubbed his chin and chuckled. "Nicola. You need to pick a position."
Taken aback by the abrupt change in subject, Abe lifted his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
"It's just like your campaign. You need to choose where you stand on the issue of Nicola. If you figure out you want her, then you need to fight like hell to get her."
* * *
Four
« ^ »
Abe had originally planned to reduce his personal appearances during December to allow both him and Nicola to recover from the frantic pace of the campaign. He had envisioned sharing quiet dinners and private evenings with her. Now that she'd moved out of Crofthaven and found an excuse to refuse all his social invitations, he was forced to take another approach if he wanted time with Nicola.
"I've been asked to attend a holiday party at the governor's mansion. Since the press will be there, I'd like you to go with me," he said as she joined him for tea and toast on Thursday morning. He wondered when she'd switched coffee to tea. "You're not on a diet, are you? Your body is perfect."
She blinked at him. "I'm not on a diet, although I could usually stand to lose a few pounds." She cleared her throat. "Thank you for the compliment," she said in a low voice.
"You don't need to lose an ounce," he said, running his gaze over her voluptuous frame, remembering how she'd felt naked in his arms, rubbing against him. He felt himself grow warm at the image. "Your body is great the way it is." I could show you just how great your body is, he thought.
She bit her lip and looked away. "Thanks." She cleared her throat and sipped her tea. "When is the governor's Christmas Ball?"
"Saturday night."
She made a choking sound. "This Saturday night?"
He nodded. "It's formal with a sit-down dinner. It will probably run late. We can stay overnight in Atlanta."
"Oh, that won't be necessary," she said.
He heard a rare trace of nervousness in her voice. He didn't know whether to be irritated or encouraged. "I don't want to get back at two in the morning if I don't have to. We had to do enough of that during the campaign."
She met his gaze and he saw an argument brewing in her eyes. "Okay. Separate rooms."
"Of course," he said. Separate, but adjoining.
"And there's Adam and Selene's wedding in a few days," he continued down his list.
"That's a family event, so I didn't expect to attend," she said.
"You don't want to be there for Adam's wedding?" Abe asked.
She opened her mouth and looked away. "Of course I do. I just didn't want to impose."
"You're not imposing. My children see you as family, maybe more than they do me," he added dryly.
"How did it go with Adam?" she asked in that soft, sensitive voice that made him think she cared more than she thought she should.
"He's justifiably cynical, but I think he might be open to having coffee with me again."
She sighed and shook her head. "I know you weren't there for them the way they wanted you to be, but you did provide for them and made sure they were safe, well educated and supported by your brother." She stood. "The lack of perspective makes me a little crazy sometimes."
"What perspective should they have?"
She made a sound of frustration. "Well, for one thing, they didn't have to move around a lot. They always had a place they could call home. They didn't have to worry they'd have to make a midnight move and end up with a totally different set of guardians. Trust me. Things could have been much, much worse for them."
Abe had heard Nicola mention the same opinion before, but he'd felt too guilty to allow anything she said to penetrate his sense of failure. He looked at her standing next to the window with her arms crossed over her chest and something inside him clicked. He walked toward her. "Is that how it was for you?"
Color rose to her cheeks and she shook her head. "I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have vented like that. This is your business, not mine."
He chuckled. "It's never stopped you before. Why should it stop you now?" He wanted to touch her, but instead stuck his hands in his pockets. "You didn't answer my question. Was that how it was for you?"
She glanced away. "I don't really like talking about it—"
"Please," he said and watched her eyes widen in surprise.
Clearly conflicted, she closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them. "When my mother died, there was no one to take care of me. I grew up in foster homes. Several of them. They were mostly nice people who just had bad luck. One of them lost a job. One couple got a divorce. So when I hear your kids being cold to you after you gave them so much more than I could have dreamed of having, it makes me angry."
Abe was surprised and felt foolish for not having learned about Nicola's childhood before, but she'd always evaded the subject. "You've come a long way, baby."
Her mouth lifted in a wistful smile. "That I have."
"Why didn't you ever get married?" he couldn't help asking.
"I've always had a busy, satisfying career and I never found the right guy," she said with a shrug.
His gut twisted at the admission. He would have to think about that later. "But you would marry if you found the right guy?"
She glanced out the window. "Not everyone finds the right person and even if they do, sometimes things still don't work out."
"That doesn't sound like you."
She looked at him. "What d
o you mean?"
"I mean, during the campaign you were always saying nothing is impossible until you've tried everything."
"That was the campaign," she said with a smile. "Not my personal life."
"But you've said the same thing about my relationship with my children, too."
She began to fiddle with her fingers. Nicola never fidgeted, Abe thought.
"Then maybe it's romance. Romance is so emotional you can't really control it. It's hard to choose who you fall for, if they fall for you and if it's a good time in your life or his life to get together. That kind of thing." She laughed. "I don't really have time to be looking for my dream man right now. Too many other things to do."
* * *
Nicola felt as if she'd been run over by a truck. "And the truck's name is Abraham Danforth," she muttered to herself as she stumbled from the bathroom to the couch for the third time in an hour. She was glad she'd had the foresight to negotiate getting today off. Abe had argued against it, but she'd stood her ground, pointing out that she'd be working Saturday night at the Governor's Christmas Ball. With her morning sickness kicking in big-time, all she wanted to do was lie on the sofa dressed in her old sweats while she moaned and indulged in a pity party.
She closed her eyes against the unsteady feeling in her tummy. "It will pass," she told herself. "It will pass." Nicola wished she could forget hearing a woman in the doctor's office comment on how her morning sickness had lasted nine months.
She slid her hand over her tummy. Despite the nausea, she felt protective of the little life growing inside her. Sugar Cookie, she called the baby and smiled. She just hoped that she could learn to be a good mother. Her number one fear was that she had no normal maternal instincts. How could she when she had given her first baby up for adoption so many years ago?
But she would learn, she told herself. She would read books and take classes. When she wasn't hyperventilating from anxiety or dodging her feelings for Abe, she even felt a little excited. She wondered if the baby was a boy or girl. She had no doubt that Sugar Cookie would have the trademark Danforth determination.