by J. R. Ward
Nick had known all along that he’d have to tell her about the business with her father. And he was preparing to talk to her about it. He just wanted a little more time to figure out how to broach the subject, to construct the words in such a way so as to lessen the shock.
He was sure about one thing. Having the man just show up was definitely not the way Nick wanted it all to come out.
Sitting down behind his desk, he dialed Wessex’s private line.
“Wessex.” The man’s voice was sharp.
“It’s Farrell.”
“Just tell me”—the words were clipped short—“when were you going to mention my daughter was on your mountain? Before or after I arrived?”
“Of course I was going to let you know,” Nick answered evenly.
“How bloody thoughtful of you.” There was real anger in Wessex’s voice.
“Look, I was going to tell you. Although, considering that she’s here, I think we should meet in New York.”
“Well, it’s too damn late. I invited Packert up to your house this weekend. We’ll be arriving on Friday.”
Nick’s throat closed on him. “No, you won’t. And what the hell’s going on? We’re not ready for the ambush yet.”
“Packert’s found out about our little side arrangement. He knows if you take control, he’s out of a job. He says either he meets with you or he’s going to the press again.”
“Screw him. He’s welcome to call every goddamn reporter on the street,” Nick growled. “He’s got nothing to say to them.”
“Don’t be so sure about that. He’s prepared to let the world know you and I are skirting the antitrust laws. That we’re double-dealing.”
“He’s out of his mind!” Anger curled Nick’s hand into a fist. “Everything is perfectly legal. Does that guy have a death wish?”
“All I can say is that he’s got a loud voice when it comes to making accusations, and you know how the reporters just love his sound bites. Even though everything about the deal is legitimate, in the court of public opinion, it’s going to look bad. I don’t want to take that kind of hit and neither do you. Especially after last year.”
“I swear to God, I’m going to crush that son of a bitch.” Nick pushed a hand through his hair. “But tell him we’ll meet in New York. We can do it at my office. I’ll fly down this weekend.”
“Fine.” There was a long pause and then Wessex asked in a low voice, “Now do you mind telling me what my daughter is doing at your house?”
Nick took a deep breath. “She’s up on my mountain. Digging. When I spoke to you last, I had no idea she was going to be excavating on my land.”
“How well do you know her?”
There was a pause. Nick didn’t want to get into specifics with Carter’s father. He had a feeling she’d view it as a betrayal. “Well enough.”
“Personally?”
“Yes.”
“How is she?”
There was a desperation behind the words, one that Nick didn’t associate with the man.
“She’s well.”
“Has she told you why we’re estranged?”
“Some.”
A sigh of sadness and resignation came over the line. “It’s hard to make up for the whims of fate.”
Then, as if he were shaking himself out of the past, Wessex cleared his throat and said, sharply, “Anyway, I’ll call Packert.”
“You let me know when you need me down in the city.”
After Nick got off the line, he picked up the CommTrans documents. For the first time, he saw them not as the key to winning but as nothing more than a stack of paper, held together at the left-hand corner by a black clip. Flipping through the document, he saw where he’d highlighted clauses, written notes in the margins, crossed out sections. The weight of the contract felt flimsy in his fingers.
He tossed the thing back down and thought of the way Carter’s body felt. The way she moved under his hands, how warm her skin was, how she breathed his name against his neck as she climaxed. All of that seemed so much more important than the business deals cluttering his desk.
As he pictured the blue of her eyes, it suddenly dawned on him that maybe, all these years, he’d been hungering after the wrong thing.
“Let’s go to Burlington,” Nick said to Carter the next morning. They were alone at camp, the others having gone to the dig site.
“Now?” she asked.
Nick nodded as he sat down at the picnic table. The early morning was glorious on the mountain, the golden light filtering through the pine trees, the sky a vast, clear expanse.
“What’s the rush?”
“It’s going to be hotter than hell today. You’ll be miserable out under all this sun.”
It was only partially the truth. He wanted to spend the day with her and worried that he was going to have to go down to the city soon. He didn’t want to miss the chance for them to be alone.
She came up from behind and offered him a mug of coffee. Before she could turn away, he grabbed her hand and tugged her down close for a lingering kiss. “Besides, I want to be with you. Soon.”
He watched as she blushed and pulled back slightly, looking around to make sure they were alone.
“I guess there’s no reason we couldn’t.”
“Then it’s a date,” Nick said with satisfaction.
When she sat down beside him, he pulled her into his arms and took her lips in a searing kiss. As he felt her indrawn breath, he thought that the day was full of promise.
13
DOWN AT the garage, Ivan was cleaning a spark plug when Nick came in for the four-wheeler. “Is the monster gassed up?”
Ivan nodded. “Headed for the mountain?”
“I am.” Nick didn’t hide the pleasure in his voice. “We’re going to be gone all day. Taking the skeletons to UVM.”
A grunt came back at him. “Been a lot of foot traffic on the access road lately.”
Nick halted. “More than usual?”
“Believe so.”
“Since when?”
“Pretty recent. And there been no bears, either.”
The men looked at each other.
“Could the tracks just be from our archaeologists?” Nick went over to the machine and straddled it, frowning.
“Nope.”
“So we’re talking tourists?”
“Tourist.”
In the process of turning the key, Nick stopped. “Only one?”
“Up and down. Up and down.”
“How often?”
“I’d say two times this week.”
“Do the tracks go to the site?” he asked darkly.
“Yup. And they’re the same ones I found when I went looking for her bear.”
Nick tried to find a reason for Carter’s lie. “I don’t like this.”
“Can’t say I’m crazy for it myself considering who it is. I wish my aim had been better back in May.”
“It’s the one you almost shot?”
Ivan nodded.
“What the hell’s he doing up there?” Nick demanded.
“Question’s more, who’s he seeing.”
Nick started the four-wheeler with a roar. “Find that man and bring him down for a little chat with me.”
“With pleasure,” Ivan shouted.
As Nick raced down his driveway, he couldn’t make sense of the news. He was wondering why Carter or Buddy would be spending time with a competitor, on a dig they’d gotten at the man’s expense.
When he got to the main road, he traveled up a quarter mile and then took a hard left onto the access road. Zooming up the single lane, he spent as much time looking down as he did watching where he was going. Periodically, he slowed and searched the ground, seeing the tracks Ivan had described.
The back access road had always been a thorn in Nick’s side because it made getting up Farrell Mountain so easy. Only a half mile away from it, there was a public parking lot off the main road that serviced the state-owned mount
ain next to his. All trespassers had to do was park there and take a short walk. If they knew what they were looking for, they could jump off the shoulder at the right place and have a clear shot up his property.
He’d posted plenty of No Trespassing signs, but Ivan was the first and best line of defense against the uninvited. The man took great personal enjoyment out of tracking his prey, and most of them didn’t come back. One brush with the woodsman was usually enough to discourage subsequent visits.
But that other archaeologist was damn brazen, Nick thought. Or had a driving purpose.
Fifteen minutes later, he was close to the mountaintop but far from a satisfying resolution to his concerns. Moving past the circle of stones, he maneuvered the four-wheeler as close to the camp as possible and turned it off.
When he approached the tents, Carter looked up from where she was crouched by the fire pit.
“That was quick,” she said, flashing him a smile.
He thought about the footprints and his instincts told him she was hiding something.
“Nick, is something wrong?”
He met her eyes, seeing nothing but honest concern. Still, he had to wonder if she was scamming him. He knew from friends in the art world that Lyst worked the black market like a good QVC host. If she did find the gold, he’d be the perfect conduit to turn it into cash, and money was usually a great motivator for people. She was, after all, estranged from her father and the income of an archaeology professor couldn’t be that great.
And besides, going by the way the camp was decked out in high-tech equipment and supplies, she clearly knew how to spend a buck or two.
“Nick?” Anxiety darkened her expression as she rose.
Maybe Ivan had made a mistake, he thought, toying with the idea of letting the issue drop. He wanted her so badly it hurt. Footprints or no footprints. And there would be plenty of opportunities to talk about tracks and hypothetical bears later. There was no reason to waste a moment of the precious little time they had to spend alone.
“Everything’s fine,” he said smoothly. “You need help packing it all up?”
She gave him a strange look and then shrugged. “I’m all set, thanks. Let’s put the skeletons on the back of the four-wheeler.”
When they reconvened by Carter’s Jeep, they loaded the skeletons side by side in the back so the cargo wouldn’t shift too much on the winding road to the ferry. Then Nick took the four-wheeler over to the garage and Carter watched as he returned across the lawn. In the bright sunlight, he was looking happy again and she wondered what had been on his mind when he first got up to camp.
As he neared the Jeep, she teased, “You’re looking awfully cheerful.”
“Cheerful?” His eyes glinted while he smiled at her.
“Yeah, as in not dour.”
Nick shot her a mocking look across the hood as they both got in the car. “I happen to be looking forward to spending the day with you.”
Lightning quick, he reached across the seat and took her hand.
“Come here.” He pulled her over and kissed her mouth firmly. “Let’s get going.”
He didn’t have to ask twice. She turned the key, threw the car into gear, and took off down the drive. As she headed onto the main road, she could feel his eyes on her.
“What are you looking at?”
“You.” The word came out of his mouth long and slow.
Carter blushed with happiness but held herself in check.
“Why do you do that?” he asked her softly.
“Do what?”
“Freeze every time I compliment you.”
She wasn’t aware that she did but she knew the cause of it. She was perilously close to falling in love with him and the feelings scared her.
“Let’s just enjoy the day,” Carter said. “Okay?”
She felt his frustration from across the seat. “I don’t understand you.”
Carter took a deep breath. It was hard living in a netherworld, between what she wanted and what she feared. She just didn’t know how much she could give him of herself. How much she should give him.
Nick turned away, his face tightening.
Skirting over the main road, Carter had to navigate tight curves and was grateful for the concentration it required. The silence between them was awkward. She made small talk but he barely responded, just stared out the side window while rolling a quarter through the fingers of his right hand.
Twenty minutes later they pulled into the ferry docks. On each side of the lake, there were twin docks, paved parking lots, and identical restaurants. These eateries were nothing special on the outside but they served the best damn soft ice cream ever twisted into a cake cone.
Carter paid the toll and obediently took a place in the line that was forming for the next boat.
She glanced over at Nick, feeling trapped. He was still playing with the coin, and she wondered if he was ever going to say something.
When he finally did speak, she was startled by the sound.
“You want anything from the restaurant?” he asked, putting on his sunglasses.
“No, I’m fine.”
He left the car and strode across the hot pavement, an incredibly handsome man whom people turned and stared at. He returned with a leaning tower of vanilla on a cake cone.
She watched with aching distraction as he licked the ice cream with his tongue. Heat pooled in her belly and she had to look away. In a halfhearted way, she noticed that it was a spectacular summer day, full of sunshine and blue sky. In contrast to the cheery weather, Carter felt ill, saddened by the silence with Nick.
“We’re up,” he said, biting into the cone part.
Snapping to, she started the Jeep and drove onto the ferry.
When they were parked again, she watched him polish off the last of the cone and wipe his fingers on a flimsy paper napkin. As soon as he was done, he looked at her. Their eyes held.
“I always did like vanilla best,” he said.
Carter looked down at her hands. “The idea of you eating an ice cream cone would have seemed unimaginable when I first met you.”
“Oh?”
“Much too simple a pleasure.”
The ferry sounded its tinny whistle and lurched free of the dock. Engines, deep and throaty, churned propellers through the water.
Carter opened her door, eager for some fresh air. When she walked over to the rail, he joined her.
“So you thought I’d eat only canapés or frilly pastries?”
“Something like that.” She offered him a smile and was relieved when he returned it.
The breezy quality of the conversation matched the wind coming across the lake, and she was relieved as some of the tension between them dissipated.
When Nick moved toward her, she was happy that he tucked her into his shoulder and put his arm around her waist. He kissed the top of her head.
“You’re a piece of work—you know that?” he said against her hair. “Tough as nails but tender, too. You confuse the hell out of me.”
“I don’t mean to.”
“I know. And that’s part of why you get to me like you do.”
His voice was gruff and, against her cheek, she felt the sound rumble deep in his chest. Under her rib cage, his hand was stroking her rhythmically. With the sun on her back and the shimmering water all around, she felt herself relax.
She craned her neck and looked up, seeing the cut of his jaw, the masculine planes of his face. Looking under his dark sunglasses, she watched his eyes scan the horizon, tracking the sailboats that dotted the lake.
“Now I get to ask,” he said, looking down with a smile. “What are you looking at?”
“Nothing,” she murmured, tucking her head back down against his chest.
He chuckled.
When the opposite shore grew dominant in the landscape, they went back to the car. With another lurch and squeal of rubber bumpers, the ferry docked and they disembarked, heading to the University of Vermont. With hi
s help, they finished unloading the finds in under fifteen minutes.
“Thanks,” she said, checking her watch. “We’ve made good time. How about lunch?”
He turned and smiled with a sensual spark. “How about picking something up and taking it back to your place?”
When they pulled up in front of her house, she shut the engine off and was about to get out of the car when Nick reached across the seat.
“Hold up.” He removed his sunglasses. His eyes were somber and serious and his mouth opened and then shut a few times.
Anxiety curdled her appetite and she braced herself. He was a man who spoke his mind clearly and cleanly. Always. And she doubted his hesitation was a good thing.
Finally, he cleared his throat.
“I love you,” he said gruffly.
In the silence that followed, Carter was dumbfounded. “You love me?”
“Yes. I do. I love you.” He reached for her hand and opened it, kissing her palm softly and then placing it on his chest.
Carter searched his face. There was tenderness and reverence in it, not a hint of calculation. What stunned her, though, was the slightest hint of vulnerability in his eyes.
“Oh, Nick,” she murmured as she reached out and touched his face. “I think I love you, too.”
He gathered her in his arms and put his lips against hers softly, moving them sensually over her mouth. When his tongue dipped inside, she sighed as pleasure overwhelmed her.
“When did you know?” she asked after they pulled apart for some air.
“Despite my cynicism, I think I’ve always known you were out there. I just didn’t recognize your face until you walked through my door.”
After lunch, Nick was feeling very satisfied as they sat on her porch in the swinging bench. He kept the to-and-fro rhythm up with his foot, pushing against the deck with his heel. Carter was curled up in the seat, her knees tucked under her, her head in the crook of his arm. Her eyes were closed.
Looking up to the sky, he saw that the sun had begun its downward descent and he sorely regretted the day was coming to a close. Telling her he loved her had been much easier than he could have imagined. The words just felt right and he was glad he’d spoken them.