by Nina Croft
The dress Nik’s mother—Elena, as she had told Summer to call her—had sent was so dark a purple, it was almost black. Summer had thought it nothing special, a tiny scrap of material unworthy of the word “dress.” Until she had put it on. It was silk, cut on the bias, and it clung to her every curve and made her glad she hadn’t put on too much weight since she had come out of prison.
Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she wore only a little mascara. She looked almost stark in comparison with the bejeweled guests.
But she did look beautiful. And Nik had mentioned it. More than once. The hunger in his eyes when he’d first seen her was sufficient to know he meant what he said. He wanted her, and it had shimmered between them on the drive over here. On the walk from the car. She could see it in his dark eyes as he gazed down at her now, made her glad she’d made the effort.
All the same, she didn’t want to be here.
Why had she said yes to his mother?
Mostly curiosity, though tinged with a little desire to spend more time with Nik. An excuse, so maybe she wouldn’t seem so eager and give away too much of her feelings.
“I don’t belong here,” she murmured.
His brows drew together. “Of course you do. My mother invited you. It’s her party, therefore you belong.”
Nik was dressed more formally than she had ever seen him, in a tuxedo, but with a black T-shirt underneath the jacket. He wore the clothes with a casual ease that made her almost envious. He would never look like he didn’t belong.
His fingers pressed at her waist, urging her farther into the room, and she finally moved, though mainly because someone came up behind her and she was blocking the doorway. Nik snagged them both a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and then led her to the edge of the room, where he stood beside her.
There were so many people.
“Are these all friends of your mother?” She hadn’t spotted Elena yet. Perhaps she was waiting until all her guests arrived to make an entrance.
“That’s Mama’s brother, Volka.” He nodded to where a huge man stood beside a tall woman. He looked like a Russian bear. “He used to terrify me when I was a kid. I thought he was from the Russian Mafia.” He grinned. “He’s actually a schoolteacher from Vladivostok. I’m pretty certain he has no problem with discipline.”
“Is that where your mother comes from?”
“Yes. She has a huge family. They used to descend on us at various intervals during my childhood. She’d send them the tickets. It used to drive my father crazy.”
“He doesn’t get on with them?”
“It’s just way too much of a good thing, I guess. My father likes order, whereas my mother loves chaos.”
“They’ve done well to stay together then.”
“I spent my childhood presuming they would split up. But my mother also loves money, so she stuck it out.”
She studied him. He didn’t sound bitter or even censorious. It was just as though he was stating the way things were. But that was sad, and she also suspected unfair to his mother. Summer had only met her briefly, but she’d come across as too plainspoken to ever live a life that was a lie, even for the sake of vast wealth.
“You don’t think they love each other?”
“Maybe. But they married because my mother was pregnant with me.”
“And you think she did it on purpose?”
He shrugged. “I don’t think my father would have married her otherwise. So maybe.”
“Oh.”
“And over there”—he nodded to a couple of women standing off to their right, with their backs to Summer and Nik, their heads close together in conversation—“are my sisters, Valentine and Alexandra. I’ll introduce you in a little while. After you’ve had some more champagne.”
They were both tall, with long honey-blond hair the exact shade of Nik’s. “Will I need it?”
“Probably. They can be a little overwhelming. They’re twins. Identical.”
“I’ll look forward to meeting them.”
“I’d avoid it, but I’m sure Mother has told them all about you and they’ll…insist.”
They turned around at that point and stared straight at them.
“Damn, we’ve been spotted,” Nik muttered. He grabbed two more glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed her one. “Drink it down fast.”
She took a gulp, and the bubbles went up her nose.
“Not that fast,” he said as she spluttered.
She was giggling as the two women approached. They looked much younger than Nik, maybe in their early twenties but with a gloss of sophistication Summer would never manage. They came to a halt in front of them. Their smiles appeared genuine, but their eyes showed more than a hint of curiosity. And they really were identical. Luckily, they were dressed differently, one in a long red dress, the other in blue.
“Hey, big brother. You going to introduce us?”
“If I have to.” He sounded resigned.
“Oh, you have to,” the other replied.
“Summer, this is the terrible twosome—named by Harry, by the way. Valentine.” He waved a hand at the sister in red. “And Alex.” The sister in blue. “And this is Summer, my assistant…for the moment.”
“More than that, if Mama is telling the truth. Apparently, she caught you in the act.”
“Don’t exaggerate. You’ll embarrass Summer.”
“Will we? How interesting.”
Summer stepped forward and shook both their hands, trying not to squirm under the inspection.
“Sorry if we seem like we’re coming on strong,” Val said.
“But Nik’s not really capable of selecting his own women,” Alex continued. “Never has been. He usually has the most appalling taste.”
“He’s done a crap job so far.”
“So it’s our sisterly duty to look you over and ascertain whether you’re likely to break his heart.”
“Jesus Christ,” Nik muttered.
Summer patted his arm. “Don’t worry,” she said, sending a serene smile to the two girls. “Nik knows I’m just after him for his money.”
“Oh.”
“That’s good then.”
“You know,” Nik said from beside her. “I think I feel the need to dance.”
“Wow.” Alex turned to her sister. “Have you ever known Nik to dance?”
“Never.”
“You know what this means?”
“It must be love.”
Nik rolled his eyes, grabbed Summer by the arm, and dragged her onto the dance floor. Something slow was playing, and he pulled her close against his body. Summer closed her eyes and rested her cheek against the smooth cotton of his T-shirt. Just for a minute, she relaxed, letting the music flow through her.
The day hadn’t been so bad. She’d met Pete, her mother’s friend. It was clear Pete wanted to be more than just friends, and equally clear that her mother was holding him at arm’s length. But he was a nice man, and only a couple of years older than her mom. He was so solicitous of her; it was sweet.
Her mother might deny she wanted anything more than friendship, and Summer knew her mother had a will of iron, but she had blossomed under Pete’s attention. They’d talked after Pete had left them, and her mother had sworn once again that she wouldn’t be a burden. But for all that, she seemed happy. Something Summer had doubted she would ever see.
Summer had left feeling optimistic for the future. And now here she was in Nik’s arms. What they were doing couldn’t really be called dancing, more like swaying to the music. But it felt good. She opened her eyes and her gaze landed on Nik’s mother. She was standing beside a much older man, who was tall with black hair flecked with gray. Nik’s father, she presumed. Despite the age difference, they looked good together, and clearly their disagreement of the morning had been sorted. Elena leaned into him, her arm threaded through his. Whatever Nik thought of the marriage, these two were close.
It was strange, but she and Nik
hadn’t come from such different origins. The disparity was, Nik’s father had married his mother when he’d got her pregnant. Whereas Summer’s had pretty much abandoned them. How different would her life have been if he’d shouldered his responsibility? Or not even that. If he’d loved the young woman he’d gotten pregnant.
As she watched them, Nik’s father put his arm around his mother and pulled her close.
Nik was wrong.
They loved each other.
She tugged on Nik’s arm and pulled away, lifting her face from his chest, immediately missing the thud of his heart against her cheek. “Your mother is here,” she said.
“I suppose we should go and say happy birthday.”
Something occurred to her. “Should I have brought a present?”
“I think she probably has enough. And you brought yourself.”
“She was worried about you. She said she hadn’t met a girlfriend of yours since before your marriage. Not that I’m your real girlfriend or anything.”
They weaved their way through the people on the dance floor, coming to a halt by the small group surrounding his mother. They parted to allow Nik through. He leaned in and kissed his mother on the cheek. “Happy birthday.”
His mother smiled, then turned to Summer. “The dress suits you.”
“Thank you for the loan. I’ll get it cleaned and sent back.”
“Nonsense. You must keep it.”
She didn’t argue. But she wouldn’t keep the dress. She’d recognized the designer label and knew it must have cost a fortune. No way could she keep it. But now was not the time to get into that, so she just smiled.
“And this is my husband and Nik’s father—David. And Dave, this is the girl I told you about. The one I met this morning at Nik’s.”
“Hello, Mr. Masterton.” Summer held out her hand, and it was engulfed in a much larger one. He was studying her.
“Have we met?”
“I work for Nik. But I don’t think so.” She would have remembered.
“I’ve seen you somewhere. Or a picture…” His eyes widened, and he looked at his son. She saw Nik give a small shake of his head.
Nik took a wrapped parcel out of his pocket and handed it to his mother.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” She kissed him on the cheek again and stepped back. “Now, we have to go and say hello to some of the guests I haven’t seen in years. But we must all sit down together later. Summer, I’m so glad you came.”
She watched as they walked away. “Your father knows about me, doesn’t he?” How had that happened? He hadn’t been around when Summer had worked at Masterton the first time. He’d just had a heart attack. That was why Nik had taken over.
“He was in the office when Harry told me he’d found you.”
How had he found her? After all that time, she’d thought herself safe. But that was a conversation for another time. Or maybe with Harry.
“He saw a photo of you. A mug shot actually.”
“Ugh.”
She remembered the occasion so well, as though it had been days and not years ago. The feeling of her world coming down around her, that she was only getting what she deserved. Now she was filled again with that same sense of inevitability. Your crimes never really went away. They followed you through life, just waiting to pounce on you when you least expected it. The thought shattered the tenuous peace she had found, dispelling her small pleasure in the evening.
“He won’t say anything,” Nik said when she remained silent.
“How do you know?” He was hardly likely to want Nik to date a woman who had been in prison. A woman who had stolen from his company. He would tell Nik’s mother. And she’d hate her. And…
Nik squeezed her hand. “Hey, don’t worry.”
She forced a smile. Tomorrow, she’d worry about his family’s knowing she was a thief. It brought home to her the impossibility of there being anything between them. Nik had said he wanted to talk after the party. But really, what was there to say?
Even so, couldn’t she have tonight with him? Then Monday, she would tell him…what?
That she was leaving, that she couldn’t stay because there could never be anything between them. For some reason that hurt.
Nik was leading her toward the door when they were approached by a man; tall, with gray hair and a paunch beneath his expensive tuxedo. He effectively blocked their passage and they came to a standstill. Summer glanced at him and a jolt of surprise punched her in the stomach. Steven Trenton. The CEO of Trenton industries, the company responsible for her mother’s accident and the first company she had stolen from. She looked away quickly, hoping she had managed to wipe the expression from her face as the shock washed through her in waves, threatening to pull her under. She fought to keep her head above water.
“Nik,” the man said, “could we have a moment?”
Nik’s mouth turned down in a frown. “Not tonight. Call my office and arrange a meeting.”
Trenton was studying Summer, his brows drawn together in a small frown. “Do I know you?”
Oh God, she should never have come here. “No.”
Before he could say anything more, Nik gave him a curt nod, put a hand on her waist, and steered her away. But she could feel the man’s eyes boring into her back as she walked, her legs shaking beneath the long dress. Her breath caught in her lungs as she waited for him to shout out. To remember exactly where he’d seen her. But nothing broke the civilized clink of crystal and the hum of polite low-voiced murmurs. Nik handed her another glass, and she gulped it down.
“You weren’t very polite to your friend,” she said.
“He’s not a friend. He’s a business acquaintance of my father, who wants to be a business acquaintance of mine. But I don’t like the way he works.” He studied her for a moment. “Why? Do you know him?”
“No. For a second, he reminded me of someone. But I was wrong.”
“He seemed to know you.”
“A mistake.” She swallowed as panic twisted inside her. She had to get out of there. For a moment, she had an urge to confide everything to Nik. He was her friend. He would sort it out. But how could he? Besides, if he tried, he could get in trouble himself. And she couldn’t bear that.
She glanced furtively across the room. Trenton was still watching them, his eyes narrowed. Summer took a deep breath. It wouldn’t do for Nik to recognize that there was anything wrong with her. Though from the frown on his face, she could tell he was quite aware she was bothered by something.
“I need to pop to the ladies’,” she said, handing him her champagne glass. He looked as though he wanted to come with her. Thank God, he couldn’t. “Go mingle for a minute.” She couldn’t quite bring herself to tell him she’d be right back.
“I’ll wait here.”
She shrugged and headed off, again feeling as though everyone was staring at her, that they could see through her flashy outward appearance to what was inside.
But really, why should that bother her? There was nothing wrong with her. If you ignored the whole thief, ex-con thing.
Christ, she’d thought she’d be able to put it all behind her. Now this. Maybe it was impossible. Maybe she’d done wrong and she just hadn’t paid enough yet.
What the hell was she going to do?
As she emerged from the ballroom, she ran straight into a tall, broad figure in another black tuxedo. His hands came up and he gripped her upper arms to hold her steady.
“Sorry,” she muttered, and then looked up in Harry’s face. He raised an eyebrow, no doubt at her flustered appearance.
“You off somewhere?”
“Just to the ladies’. You’re late,” she said to forestall the questions she could see hovering on his lips.
“Are you okay?” Obviously, her plan hadn’t worked. Or she must look how she felt—as though a huge, ominous black cloud was hanging over her. But what was that to Harry? He’d made it more than clear he thought Nik’s relationship with her was a big mista
ke.
“Do you care?” The words were out before she could think better of them. He still had hold of her, and as she made to pull back, his fingers tightened.
“Strangely, yes.”
At the words, she went still, her brows coming together. And suddenly her eyes ached, and she had to blink away the tears. She had to hold it together just a little while longer.
Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile. “I’m fine. This”—she nodded back toward the party—“is just a little outside my comfort zone.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
Did he actually believe she was going to be around long enough?
“The thing about rich people,” he continued, “is that when it comes down to it, they’re just like everyone else, some good, some bad. Unfortunately, money can bring out the worst in the bad ones, and they tend to be the loudest, so you hear them the most.”
“Why are you talking to me like this?”
He grinned but released his hold on her and stepped back. “Like what?”
“Like a normal person, instead of one who’s likely to make off with the silver?”
“Nik likes you.” He shrugged. “That’s enough for me.”
“Oh.” This was bordering on surreal, but didn’t help. She had to go. “Enjoy the rest of the party,” she muttered, and turned away.
“Are you leaving?” He stopped her with a hand on her arm.
She hesitated. “I have to. Something came up.”
“Does Nik know?”
“Of course.” Or he would soon. Once she’d picked up her bag from the coatroom, she’d send him a text.
His hand dropped to his side, but he didn’t look happy. “I’ll see you Monday.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” She tried for her usual snarky tone, but it came out a bit pathetic-sounding. She didn’t wait for him to say anything else, just headed away. Five minutes later, she was out on the street. She got her phone from her bag and texted a quick message to Nik, then hurried away.
…
Nik felt the vibration of his phone in his pocket and pulled it out. When he saw the message, he swore under his breath. He’d known something was wrong. He should never have let her out of his sight.