See You In My Dreams

by Marie-Nicole Ryan

“You also,” Max muttered. McHugh's insistence on calling him sir aggravated him beyond belief. The editor's politeness was feigned and verged on insult. They weren't that many years apart in age.

  “Nikki, we'll talk more tomorrow, okay?” McHugh asked.

  “Sure, I'll get started on the revisions right away.” She stood up. “I'll see you to the door,” she said with what Max thought was a very self-satisfied smile.

  Max watched them leave the sunroom. “Good riddance,” he muttered, then looked down and discovered he'd clenched his fists. And his stomach felt like someone had used it for boxing practice. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why Nikki was so at ease with McHugh, someone she barely knew. From the foyer he heard her giggle again. Didn't the she have anything better to do?

  Finally, he heard the front door open and shut. Seconds later, Nikki rejoined him, her face flaming red. “I can't believe how rude you were to Geoff."

  “Rude, moi?” Why the hell was she so angry at him? What had he done now?

  “He was here, a guest in your home ... at my invitation. You did everything but beat your chest and hike your leg on the furniture."

  “Nikki!” Damn. She had him pegged—not that he'd ever admit it to her.

  “Your behavior was inexcusable. You embarrassed me."

  She advanced on him and Max took a step back. If she continued in this vein, she'd be shaking her finger in his face. He stepped toward her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “You're overwrought,” he said in an attempt to calm her.

  “Keep your hands off me, Max Devereaux.” She shoved him away. “I'm not overwrought. I'm pissed off.” She paced back and forth. “I was working with my editor. And you came in here acting like you'd caught us in the sack."

  She whirled, but Max caught her arm and pulled her to his chest. His heart slammed against his sternum like a blacksmith's hammer. Her nearness intoxicated him more than any liquor could have. The light scent she wore mingled with her own unique fragrance and rendered him senseless. He felt her breasts rise and fall against his chest with each rapid breath. Her lips parted. He bent his head to claim their sweetness. Finally, his lips touched hers. They were warm, soft ... and so sweet. Caught up in the moment, her body molded to his.

  “Oh. Excuse me,” Jessie Prentice's harsh tones sliced through their brief moment of expectation, severing his fragile bond with Nikki as effectively as any knife.

  Nikki reacted first, jumping back. He dropped his hands. He'd been so close. Now this.

  Jessie pursed her lips, then sneered at Nikki, “I didn't mean to intrude, but the child could've seen you two, rutting like dogs in heat."

  Dumbstruck, he resisted the urge to lash out and shake the silly woman.

  “Mama.” Nikki's face reddened; she looked to him.

  He had to say something, but his command of English failed him. “Merde. Ça suffit. Désolé.” He waved his hands in the air. At the agency—hell anywhere—he was in total control, but here in his own home?

  Jessie's expression turned to one of puzzlement. “What's he saying, Nikki? You know I don't speak a word of that language? Why doesn't he speak English like he usually does?"

  Nikki shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “He's upset, Mama. He just said he was sorry, that he's heard enough."

  “Are you sure that's all he said?"

  Max regained his English. “Don't talk about me in the third person. I apologize, Mrs. Prentice. It was all my fault. I ... care for Nikki, but we're not lovers, nor dogs in heat. What an abominable expression.” He swallowed dryly and continued, “If you wish to leave my home, I will understand. Your daughter is in no danger here, in spite of my crude behavior."

  Mrs. Prentice looked from Max to Nikki, who occupied herself with looking at the floor and breathing heavily. “That might be the best solution, after all. I don't want to intrude,” she said, then added with a smirk, “or be in the way."

  “Mother! It's not like that."

  “Oh, no? I'm not blind. You can't fool me, young lady. You've had the hots for this foreigner ever since he picked your sorry butt off the streets and turned you into a fancy model."

  Nikki's face turned red; her fingers curled at her sides. Afraid she would attack her mother, he placed a restraining hand on her shoulder. She stopped short, but her eyes flashed her anger clear enough.

  Nikki's mother turned on him and shrilled, “You! You've corrupted my daughter. Brought her into a world of drugs and wholesale sex. Had her parade around, strutting her stuff like she's better than anyone else. You should have left her on the streets. At least, being a whore would've been more honest."

  “Left her on the streets? I took her away from the drugs and wholesale sex. For heaven's sake, your daughter was eating out of garbage cans and begging on the streets. I gave her the opportunity of a lifetime."

  “You certainly didn't mind taking the money I earned, Mama,” Nikki sputtered, angry tears running down her cheeks.

  The sight of Nikki's tears enraged Max further. “That's enough. No more. I want you to leave.” He turned and grabbed the telephone and dialed information. “Loew's Carlton?"

  Nikki stood watching him while he made reservations for her mother and called a taxi. He wanted so much to reach out and comfort her—but not in front of her malicious mother. What a nightmare. He'd been polite and gracious when the blasted woman showed up at his door uninvited, but she had worn out her welcome.

  “Well. I can certainly see I'm not welcome here.” Nikki's mother whirled and rushed from the room.

  “It's your own fault,” Nikki called after her.

  “Let her go.” Max gathered Nikki into his arms. Her shoulders heaved, as she sobbed.

  “Sometimes I think I hate my mother. You've been wonderful to me. Why does she have such an evil mind?"

  “She can't help being who she is, but I won't put up with it. Neither should you.” Max kissed the top of her head, breathing in her sweet scent.

  “Hey, what's wrong?” Alexa walked into the sunroom and stopped, her eyes wide. “Did I miss something?"

  “A little disagreement. Nothing for you to worry about,” he soothed his daughter.

  Alexa cast him a doubtful look. “Heard anything about the tickets yet?"

  “No. Don't worry, Ramona will call when she has news."

  “Tickets? I thought you already had tickets."

  “Alexa decided she'd rather go to the ‘NSYNC concert instead."

  Nikki grinned at Alexa. “Yeah, I guess she would at that. The group's pretty hot, isn't it?"

  Alexa grinned and rolled her eyes heavenward, “Oh, yes. They're really, really hot. Bitsy will be so jealous."

  The shrill of the telephone saved Max from having to listen to more ‘NSYNC adulation.

  Alexa squealed and grabbed for it. “Ramona. Yes, it's Alexa. Tomorrow night, three tickets. You're wonderful. Here's Daddy.” She thrust the telephone at him and began to dance around the room. “I'm going to see ‘NSYNC. Omigod! I'm going to see ‘NSYNC."

  “Tomorrow night, Ramona?” he asked, still a little befuddled by the emotional scenes he'd just experienced. Only moments before, he and Nikki had been on the brink of ... something and then her vicious mother.

  His assistant's, “Max?” brought him back to reality.

  “Thanks, Ramona. Wonderful. Messenger them over.” He turned to his daughter. “You have your wish.” Turning to Nikki he asked, “Would you like to come with us? There are three tickets. “I'd really like you to go."

  “Say yes, Nikki."

  “Wouldn't you rather ask Bitsy to go with you? I still have a lot of work to do on my book—the revisions my editor suggested."

  Max stiffened. “If that's what you'd rather do. Fine."

  “Bitsy!” Alexa squealed again. “Oh, yes.” Turning to Nikki, she added, “If you're sure you really don't want to go?"

  “I'm sure.” Nikki shifted from one foot to the other. “Actually, I need to get back to work. Uh�
�"

  Max bristled, but told his daughter. “Yes, let's leave Nikki to her work. Why don't you call your friend from the study? Maybe you could arrange a sleep over? I'll pick up the two of you tomorrow night and take you to dinner and the ‘NSYNC concert from there?” he suggested. He placed his arm around his daughter's shoulders as they walked out of the room, but glanced over his shoulder at Nikki, leaving her with a silent warning, our conversation isn't over.

  Twenty-eight

  Friday afternoon

  Nikki looked down at her trembling hands. The scene with her mother had been pretty bad, but the scene her mother had interrupted had shaken Nikki more than she'd ever thought possible. Now, in one fell swoop, Max had cleared the house for the evening, leaving her quite alone with him.

  Maybe it's just as well, she decided. She and Max could finally have it out. Clear the air, once and for all. If he couldn't accept her terms, she would be forced to leave—in spite of her promise to Alexa.

  For the present, she still had a book to write. She walked over to her desk and opened the lap top. She grabbed the mouse and clicked on the AOL icon. She'd only been on line for a short time, and checking for e-mail wasn't an ingrained habit. She hadn't even bothered to select a screen name that would give her the freedom to surf the Internet with anonymity. For now, she was still nprentice@aol.com. She could change it later. For now she had work to do.

  Before connecting to the Internet, she took a moment to look around. The sunroom had darkened, and there was the sound of distant thunder, as well. A tiny shiver slid down her spine. She hated thunderstorms, always had. Shaking her head, she clicked on the mouse and connected.

  A chipper “You've got mail” issued from her computer. She clicked and found a long list of e-mails. Most turned out to be spam, but one looked interesting. She clicked on it, wondering who in the world knew she was on line. After all, she'd only given Geoff McHugh her e-mail address that afternoon.

  She scanned the e-mail. A sick sensation of fear clutched at her stomach. It wasn't from her editor.

  Found you at last, but it won't be our last communication. Quickly she clicked on delete. On occasion, she'd received weird mail at the modeling agency, but never one directly delivered to her so personally. Now that she thought about it, the Internet could be kind of scary.

  Immediately, she went to the members section and gave herself a new screen name, then fired off an e-mail to Geoff McHugh, advising him of the change.

  Overhead the thunder rumbled louder. Nikki gazed out the high arched window. They were in for a storm, for sure. The sky, darkening by the minute, was full of low fast-moving clouds.

  Stop with the weather report, Nik. It's time to get some work done. After disconnecting it from the electrical source, she took a deep breath. She could still get a lot done. Maybe the storm would be over by the time the battery needed recharging.

  A commotion from the hall interrupted her before she could write the first sentence. The voice of her mother protesting, “I can carry my own luggage, thank you very much."

  The doorbell rang. Thank heaven. That meant her mother's cab had arrived. Nikki debated, should she say goodbye or not? Apparently, Max was carrying her mother's luggage. She could hear him apologizing profusely for his churlish behavior. Jeez, did anyone use the word churlish anymore?

  Damn. There was no reason for Max to apologize to her mother. It should be the other way around. Nikki walked to the hall and stood in the doorway watching as her mother huffed and puffed and performed her indignant mother routine. Poor Max stood behind her with a bewildered expression on his face.

  “What do you want me to do?” He mouthed the words from behind Jessie's back. Nikki shook her head, still feeling as if she should say or do something. She stepped forward, “Mama, I'm sorry."

  She spun around. “I've never seen such an ungrateful child. You've never been anything but trouble to me since your daddy ran off and left us. Sometimes, I wish you'd never been born."

  Nikki'd heard it all before, but the underlying venom still had the power to wound. “Mama, you said that so many times, when I was growing up, it doesn't hurt like it used to,” she murmured. Tears stung her eyes all the same. Yes, it still hurt; she just hid it better, now.

  Turning on her heel, she walked back to the sunroom. She sat down and shut her eyes to keep the tears from falling. The soft splat of raindrops hit the tall Palladian windows in the sunroom. Finally, she heard the front door open and shut; she heaved a sigh of relief.

  “Are you all right?” Max asked, standing over her.

  Nikki looked up into his green eyes and saw only pity. Dammit, she didn't need his pity. “Yeah. It's nothing new. She's never really loved me. I've learned to brush it off and let it go.” She shrugged and attempted a smile.

  “It's not that easy, is it?” Max's voice was hoarse with emotion. He reached out and touched her cheek. “I'm sorry. It's my fault. I shouldn't have..."

  The light touch seared her skin, as if he'd branded her. She tried to shrug his hand away, but he resisted.

  “It isn't your fault. She's just the way she is,” Nikki told him, trying to regain a bit of self-control.

  She caught a movement behind Max and stiffened. Alexa stood quietly, watching them. Max turned to his daughter. “Did you talk to Bitsy and her mother?"

  “Yes, she says I ought to come on over before it starts storming. I've already packed my overnight bag.” She motioned to the purple nylon bag beside her feet. “They're coming over in a cab to pick me up, if that's all right?"

  “That's fine,” Max replied. “I'll call you tomorrow. The concert starts at eight, so I'll pick you up in the limo and take you and Bitsy to dinner first."

  Alexa rushed over to Max's side and threw her arms around him. “This is the neatest thing you've ever done for me, Daddy. I know you'll love the show.” She looked over at Nikki. “I just wish we had a fourth ticket, so you could go with us. You'd love ‘NSYNC, they're—"

  “—So hot!” Nikki and Max finished, in unison. Together the three of them laughed. A light-hearted moment, and it eased the knot in Nikki's stomach.

  ~ * ~

  Fifteen minutes later, Max walked Alexa to the waiting taxi, and Nikki looked out the window into the small rear garden. The soft spatters of rain had transformed into fat, smacking drops which sounded loud enough to break the glass. She really did have work to do. Surely, Max wouldn't interrupt her, if he saw how focused she was on her work.

  Assuming she could focus.

  But more than once, she caught herself staring out the window. The heavens had opened with large, driving sheets of rain, slanting against the window.

  Max stomped into the sunroom. “Merde."

  Looking up, ready to give him hell for interrupting her, her mouth dropped open at the sight he presented.

  Soaked to the skin.

  “You didn't take an umbrella?” she drawled.

  “Obviously not.” Max finger-combed his hair, squeezing out the excess water. “The second I shut the taxi door, the sky opened up."

  She watched dry-mouthed as Max unbuttoned and peeled off his soaked shirt. The muscles of his chest glistened with tiny beads of moisture that ran down his flat abdomen. She didn't know whether to swallow her tongue or just surrender to the inevitable.

  Unable to sit still another second, she leaped from her chair. “Here, let me have that. You're dripping all over everything. I'll hang it in the laundry.” She grabbed the sopping shirt from him and headed to the laundry room, but came to a dead stop.

  This time she heard the unbuckling of a belt, followed immediately by the sound of his zipper. She whirled around. “What do you think you're doing?"

  “My pants are soaked too.” A devilish smile spread across Max's face. “Don't you want them?"

  “No. Max Devereaux, you keep your pants on."

  He bowed and winked at her. “I think the appropriate term is, Gotcha."

  “Very funny,” she admitted.
/>   “I thought so.” He walked toward her, his hand outstretched. “You're not here to be my housekeeper. I can hang up my own shirt."

  “No problem. I was—"

  “You were working, and I interrupted you. Now,” he said, taking her by the shoulders, he turned her around and guided her back to the computer. “Sit down, and I'll see to my laundry."

  A little befuddled, Nikki sat down and stared at the monitor screen. She was sure Max had never done his own laundry ... ever. Actually, she'd be surprised if he even knew where the laundry room was.

  “No, it's the other door, Max. The one on the left,” she volunteered.

  He turned and gave her a sheepish glance. “I know which door it is."

  She laughed and teased him, “Sure you do."

  “Well, I do."

  Max disappeared into the laundry room and shut the door behind him. She imagined him peeling his wet trousers down his strong thighs. “Crap.” No use thinking about his strong thighs ... or his calves. He was taboo. She was not about to get involved with him, not while living under his roof as his daughter's chaperone.

  Outside, the weather worsened, the downpour continued. The rain still fell in sheets, while the wind blew the trees in the rear garden nearly double.

  The temperature in the sunroom had dropped with the onset of the storm, but that wasn't the only reason she couldn't stop shivering. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't deny the effect he had on her. Only a few minutes before, he'd held her so closely, her breasts pressed hard against his heavily muscled chest, she'd felt the heat emanating from his hard body. The memory sent a wave of desire sweeping though her body weakening her resolve.

  The laundry room door opened, and Max emerged, clad only in a forest green bath towel, wrapped around his trim waist.

  Good grief. As if she needed any more temptation. “Max, really."

  “Excusé moi,” he said, his eyes alight with mischief. “Everything I had was soaked."

  “Yeah, well you'd better get some dry clothes before you catch cold.” How in the hell was she supposed to concentrate with his parading around in a towel. His body was sculpted with broad planes of muscle rippling across his back. And she did not want to think about his firm butt, except there it was, covered only by a towel that looked like it might fall any second.