by J. R. Ward
“I know I’m not a fashion plate,” he said with a half smile. “But at least I’m dry.”
Carter covered her laughter with a frown and then sneezed.
“You sure about those jeans?” he asked.
With longing, she looked over at some dry khakis just within her reach. As another shiver wracked her body, she stiffened her resolve and, turning from him, began to fumble with the fly again.
“You want help?”
She jumped. His voice was very close to her ear and she realized he’d come up behind her.
“No.” She tried to move away. “Do you mind?”
His brow arching, he sat down on the cot.
After a few more failed attempts, and at least one other sneeze, she gave up.
Shoring her resolve, she confronted him. “Could you…er—”
“What?”
His expression seemed uninterested but his eyes told another story. They were filled with a brooding sensuality.
“Er—could you…”
“Take off your pants?”
Before she could tell him to forget it, he was standing in front of her and reaching out his hands. His fingertips brushed against the skin of her stomach as he released the top button and, when she sucked in her breath, he paused.
“Do you want me to stop?”
He was so close to her now, his lips almost on her ear, his body bent over hers.
“Just hurry up,” she muttered tightly, focusing on the ground.
Nick went back to work and, with each button, his hands moved lower. The tugging and pulling was unbelievably erotic, and her lips parted as she let out a ragged breath.
When he reached the lowest one, his fingers lingered. He brought his head lower and his breath brushed over her neck.
“You make me burn,” he whispered, pulling her hips into his. She could feel his arousal, thick and hot against her.
Her head fell back.
Lightning flashed, white and jagged.
When thunder bellowed in response, the noise broke through the fog in Carter’s mind. She pulled away, stumbling.
“Don’t do that,” she said hoarsely.
Their eyes met and she thought he was going to fight her. But then he shrugged with nonchalance. His face closed up and the heat was replaced by disciplined composure. As he sat down on her cot, he seemed to be in total control of himself.
Carter, on the other hand, was feeling a messy tangle of desire, resentment, and self-loathing.
She turned away from him and began to shrug out of the jeans. When she finally stepped free and struggled into the khakis, she was afraid to turn around. She didn’t know what to say or where to sit or what to do.
“There’s plenty of room over here, you know.”
Carter turned to him. His face gave nothing away and, in the end, she joined him, staying as far away as she could.
They sat in silence, listening to the raging of the wind and rain.
“How much longer can this go on?” she asked.
“Well into the night.”
Under her lashes, she glanced over at him. His big body was folded up, his arms resting on his knees, his shoulders wide and straining the sweater. His eyes were trained ahead of him and, though it appeared that he was staring at nothing in particular, he had an expression of intense concentration.
Another bolt of lightning struck close by. She jumped.
When he spoke in the aftermath of the thunder, his voice was softer than she’d expected. “You really were going to stay up here all by yourself, weren’t you?”
“Of course,” she said tightly. “Buddy and Ellie had to be together. I’m just…me.”
“And you would have spent all night cleaning this place up. Even with your hand.”
She frowned, wondering what he was getting at. “Yes.”
“Would it ever have occurred to you to ask for help?”
“From whom?”
There was a pause and then he said dryly, “Me, for instance.”
She shook her head. When he let out an irritated noise, she countered, “Can you blame me?”
His smile was not cheerful. Silence fell between them but then he laughed softly.
“You’re real tough. At least on the outside.” She heard a thread of something sounding like respect in his voice.
“Look, I don’t want to talk,” she said roughly. “I’m not capable of making sense right now.”
Her eyes lifted to his. She was stunned to find tenderness in them.
As she looked away, Carter put her head in her hands. “Can you not do that?”
“Do what?”
“Look so damn…compassionate.”
He laughed shortly. “You like my acerbic side better?”
“It’s easier to dislike you that way.”
“I don’t want you to dislike me.”
They were quiet for a long time. At one point, he shifted positions and she jerked.
“I’m not going to jump all over you.” Bitterness shortened his words.
When she glanced at him, he seemed really out of sorts. “You get angry when you don’t get what you want, don’t you?”
“You know anyone who doesn’t?”
Carter shrugged. “Some people are worse than others.”
Out of the corner of her eye she saw him rubbing his neck. As if some of his tension had been released, he said in a more even voice, “My sister was much more even-keeled than I ever was. A peacemaker.”
Wistfulness softened his features, and she was sorely tempted to ask him about the woman.
“Was she younger or older?”
“Younger. My mother’s last-ditch attempt to get some attention. She stayed in bed the whole nine months even though she was perfectly healthy. Melina was born by C-section so Mother got to creep around for a month afterward, dramatizing the event so much you’d swear she’d been cut in half and left for dead.”
His stark tone resonated with Carter. It reminded her of the way she talked about her father. “Did you and Melina get along?”
“She and Gertie were my saviors growing up. My mother didn’t really care for me all that much, and my father was better at numbers than relating to people. It would have been very easy for me to pull away from everyone and I think Mel knew that. She was always careful to be around when I needed her even though I can’t say I repaid the honor adequately. That’s one of the reasons why, when she died, I wanted to take Cort in so badly.”
He cleared his throat and Carter sensed that he didn’t want to talk about his family anymore. It was hard not to relate.
“My father came here today,” she blurted out abruptly.
She felt rather than saw his head turn.
Feeling vulnerable, she tucked her legs under her. She regretted bringing the subject up, but at the same time she felt good about it. Like she had somehow taken control of the situation that had hurt her.
“He was very different than I remembered. I was surprised to see how much regret he carries with him.”
“Of course he’s sorry. He loves you.”
“Yeah, I think maybe he does. I almost feel like it’s a good thing he came up.” She saw surprise and hope flare in Nick’s face and she quickly tacked on, “But I’m still angry as hell at you for using me.”
Frustration surged in his voice. “I did not use you.”
“Yes, you did.”
“For Chrissakes, Carter, if you and your father end up reconciling, that’s between you and him. I’m not going to leverage it to my advantage and I sure as hell regret I ever contemplated doing that.”
She just shrugged, trying not to get pulled in.
“God, I just want to strangle you sometimes,” he muttered.
“I know what you mean,” she shot back. “I feel exactly the same way about you a lot of the time.”
They glared at each other, anger and passion flaring, and she was struck by how similar they were, both fighters to the end. She thought of how absur
d it was to be arguing in a tent in the middle of a storm when they could be struck by lightning at any moment.
She started to laugh. She couldn’t help it. And after a moment, he joined her. Their hilarity mingled, rising up through the tent walls, drifting out into the storm.
Wiping a tear away, she mumbled, “You’d almost think we were meant to be together.”
Nick’s laughter rolled to a stop. “We are meant for each other.”
Her eyes flew to his. The air between them changed, growing solemn.
“I meant it when I said I love you. Carter?”
She looked over to him reluctantly.
“I wish you and your father happiness. You know that, don’t you?” In the silence that followed, he said, “And I’m sorry that I hurt you. I told him not to come and, while we were in Vermont, I was trying to find a way to tell you. I wanted to tell you everything.”
Thunder tumbled through the air, through the tense silence that followed.
“Doesn’t that mean something to you?” he asked.
She shrugged. “It doesn’t change where we are. Who you are.”
“Why do you find it so hard to believe I love you?”
“I don’t doubt you think you love me.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I don’t…I can’t trust you.”
Nick swore under his breath and then, moving so fast she didn’t have time to pull away, he took her into his arms. His mouth came down hard over hers and, after struggling for a moment, she gave in to him. The sounds of the storm faded and all she knew was the feel of him against her, of his hands in her hair and his tongue sliding over hers.
Abruptly, he pulled back. “Can’t you trust this?”
Slowly she shook her head. “Only a fool relies on a forest fire for warmth.”
He let her move away.
After that, they didn’t say much else.
Throughout the night, storms kept barreling down the lake valley. Neither was able to sleep. When the fierce weather finally left the area in the early morning, the quiet that reigned in its wake was disorientating. As dawn arrived, Carter found herself listening to water droplets falling on the ground and the roof of the tent. There was a lovely rhythm to the soft sounds.
Nick got up and put his jacket on. “I’ll be right back.”
After he left, she lay down, keenly aware of the throbbing in her hand. Grateful to be stretched out, she closed her eyes and sank into a dreamless state of exhaustion.
Outside, Nick walked around and surveyed the damage. The camp was a wreck. All of the other tents had collapsed, the tarp over the mess area was lying in a tangled heap, and there was mud everywhere.
He went over to the stream. It was twice its normal size and rushing down the mountain in a torrent of white spray. Kneeling down, he splashed his face. With water dripping into his eyes and off of his chin, he went out to see the sunrise over the lake.
He watched as light exploded into the sky and wanted to go wake Carter up. He knew he couldn’t, however. So he stood alone for a long time, staring out over the view, missing her though she was only yards away.
When he returned to camp, he stuck his head into the tent. In the dim light, he could see Carter’s chest rising and falling. Her dark hair was spilling over the pillow and she had one leg kicked out to the side. He was watching her sleep when she woke up.
“What are you standing there for?” she asked in a groggy voice.
“We need to get you to a doctor.”
With a groan, she sat up. Her hair fell over her shoulders in waves that he wanted to run his hands through.
“What time is it?”
He didn’t have to check his watch. “Early still. But we should go.”
With a grimace, she got to her feet. Instead of arguing with him, she simply put on her coat and walked out of the tent. That’s when he knew she was in pain.
In the fragile light of dawn, they took to the trail. It was god-awful to watch her move stiffly and hold her arm away from her body as if she was afraid of knocking it. He wished like hell there was something he could do to make the trip easier on her. Between the fallen tree limbs, the residual flooding, and Carter’s quiet suffering, he thought they would never see the mansion.
As soon as they broke out of the woods, Buddy, Ellie, and Cort came rushing across the lawn. They were smiling with relief, but the happy group stopped short when they saw the bandage and Carter’s tense features.
“What happened?” Buddy asked.
“Run-in with the handsaw,” Carter muttered through pale lips. She quickly told them what had happened.
“I’m taking her into town,” Nick said. “Do me a favor—have Gertie call ahead. She knows who we’re going to see.”
Nick packed Carter into his truck, threw a chain saw in the back, and then eased them out onto the main road. He was careful to drive with a steady hand.
All around them, the devastation was formidable. Streams flooded the road, tree limbs were down, and at one point, there was a fallen oak blocking their way. Using the chain saw, he deftly cut the tree into hunks that he tossed over to the shoulder. When he was back in the cab, he saw Carter was wearing a sad smile.
At his look of inquiry, she explained, “I was remembering the first picture I saw of you. It must have been when I was still in college. You’d just started to make a killing on Wall Street.” A short laugh left her lips. “You were considered one of the most eligible bachelors in America.”
He eased the truck back on the road.
“I don’t remember that one,” he said, hoping she’d keep talking.
“It was on the cover of some finance magazine. You were staring out at the camera and your expression was brutally serious. You looked much older than someone in his late twenties, which was how old the article said you were. I remember that a group of girls was crowded around the magazine. They thought you would make a dream husband.”
“What did you think?”
“I wasn’t so sure. But the reason I smiled was because I never would have imagined that the same man would be bent over a fallen tree in the middle of the Adirondacks, wearing my pink scrubs, clearing the way for me to get to the doctor.”
He shot a long look in her direction. “I’m glad you’re letting me help you.”
Nick waited for a response but she didn’t answer him. Instead, she just put her head back against the seats and closed her eyes.
18
AFTER BEING treated by the town’s doctor, Carter was feeling relieved and considerably more comfortable as Nick pulled the truck back into the garage. She was also exhausted.
“Would you like some breakfast?” he asked.
“Actually, I could use some shut-eye.”
“I’ve got plenty of beds.”
She thought about the wet campsite, her muddy tent, the stiff cot, the fact that she was so tired she could feel the fatigue in her bones.
“Thanks. Something soft and dry sounds great.”
Once she’d had something to eat, Nick led her back to the bedroom she’d used before. He lingered in the doorway.
“Do you need anything?”
She shook her head. “Gertie’s French toast can soothe a multitude of ills.”
“Good napping, then.”
Carter offered him a small, tight smile. “Thanks again for your help.”
“You’re welcome.”
She tensed as Nick breached the doorway and approached her. His hand came out and rested on her shoulder.
“What is it going to take to get you to believe in me?”
She shrugged sadly, having little faith in his voice.
His eyes searched hers and then he dropped his hand. His expression hardened.
“I can’t keep apologizing to you. I’m just not going to keep doing this,” he muttered.
As he turned away, the warmth left his face.
“Enjoy your solitude.” He shut the door sharply behind him.
&
nbsp; Carter sank down on the bed.
She recognized the look on his face. It was the one he’d worn when they’d first met. Impregnable, remote, fierce.
It was over, she realized, going numb. He was going to give her what she asked for. He was going to walk away.
So why didn’t she feel relieved? This was supposed to make her feel better. Ease the torment. It was exactly what she wanted.
Dragging herself to the bathroom, she shed her clothes and got under the shower. As hot water beat down on her, she bowed her head, letting it run over her shoulders.
She had to wonder why making the right choice hurt so much.
Wessex went in search of Nick, having heard that Carter and he had returned from the doctor’s. When he found the man in his study, barking orders into the phone, he noticed the change in his business partner immediately. Farrell looked positively dark.
Wessex paused in the doorway and wondered what had happened. Nick had seemed so concerned when he’d gone up the mountain to get Carter. Now all that warmth had vanished, as if it had never existed, and the man seemed colder than ever before.
When Wessex was ushered in by an impatient hand, he shut the door and took a seat. He listened as Nick spoke in short bursts of well-chosen words.
“So I’ll leave for Japan in two days, then,” the man growled. “Let them try and turn the terms down to my face. I’ll eat them alive in their boardroom and they damn well know it.”
Nick hung up the phone and shifted opaque eyes across his desk.
Wessex hesitated. There were many questions on his mind, particularly about his daughter, but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to get answers to them. Nick didn’t look as if he’d be open to personal discussions of any kind.
“So, what are we going to do about Packert?” he asked instead.
Nick leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m looking forward to crushing him and then breaking up CommTrans.”
“You’re going to sell it off?” Wessex was taken aback. “But that wasn’t part of the plan. I’ll grant that Packert’s been a fool but why—”
“Because I feel like it. CommTrans is going to be a distant memory in one year’s time. Packert’s legacy is going to be dust.”
“But you don’t need the money and it’s—”