by Calista Fox
They both stood.
But Nikki didn’t move an inch further.
Her stomach churned, and a new thought flitted through her mind.
More than that… It stuck, unrelentingly, in her head.
She let out a long sigh.
“Huge apologies,” she said as she gazed at Fiora. “There’s one more thing I have to do.”
“I’m at your disposal,” Fiora simply assured her.
“Thank you.”
They left the club. They left the boarding area. Hell, they left the terminal.
They took a cab to the nearest branch of Nikki’s bank and she secured the old computer in a safety deposit box, for posterity. Everything she needed was now accessible to her in the cloud.
That also meant…
As they hailed another cab, Nikki told Fiora, “I need to buy a new laptop.”
Mads was in the throes of ripping apart any wrapping paper that didn’t have unicorns or rainbows on it and going nuts over all the presents.
As a nine-year-old girl should.
Damen was thrilled that she could enjoy the morning, because he knew as the day wore on, she’d be missing her mom and dad. Thus… He had plenty of activities planned.
It would help him, as well. He wanted desperately to keep his mind off Nikki.
That would prove impossible, he knew. But he was willing to put in the extra effort to maybe not obsess over her every single second.
Luckily, she was with Garcia, and that helped to take a tiny bit of the edge off him. The two agents he’d assigned to Nikki had reported the women had arrived at the airport and were in the first-class club. Then they were headed to the gate. The two agents boarded the plane.
Damen breathed easier, though he knew the full tension holding him hostage wouldn’t abate in the least until the plane safely touched down.
He sipped a Bloody Mary and forced himself not to check his phone every few minutes for a status update. He had to chill or he’d have everyone else in the house unhinged.
When the last of the gifts had been opened and the mess cleared away, Mads and her grandmother moved onto their next, though new, tradition, which was baking and decorating a Christmas cake…for lunch. Something fresh and different, granted, but Damen’s mother figured dessert with lunch was perfectly acceptable on the holiday and again… It preoccupied Mads.
Damen checked the stockings to ensure Mads had collected all of the presents there, too. Empty. He snickered. He should know better. No stone would be left unturned by that girl.
As his gaze drifted to Nikki’s stocking, he frowned. It’d be the first and the last time it’d hang over his mantel. A thought that nearly gutted him.
“You forgot one.”
The voice came from behind him.
Damen’s nearly shredded gut melded back together. With a glimmer of hope.
He glanced over his shoulder.
Nikki stood in the archway, her arm outstretched, offering him an elegantly wrapped gift.
His heart twisted at the same time it swelled with love.
He was in for a roller coaster ride of emotions today, without doubt.
He turned to face her.
She didn’t move.
He knew why.
Nikki stood under the mistletoe Mads had insisted they string up.
Emotion swept through him. He fought for a steady voice.
He fought to keep the mist from his eyes.
Shoving his hands in the pockets of his dress pants, he said, “You’re supposed to be on a plane right now.”
“Your agents got on. Fiora and I didn’t. That she can swiftly and deftly ditch professionals ought to tell you with absolute certainty that the woman should not lose her job in special operations. Not even to babysit me.”
“I’m infinitely more at ease knowing she’s babysitting you.”
“Yeah, you look cool as a cucumber,” she caustically retorted. “Your jaw sets any harder and it’s going to shatter. Your shoulders are about to bunch their way right out of that designer shirt of yours. And I’m guessing your legs are vibrating with the rigidity that’s holding you in place.”
“You’re incredibly observant.”
“I know you incredibly well,” she countered. “And my arm is getting tired of holding this present, so please come take it from me.”
He snickered at her. It was a small box that she held. Not exactly weighty, he suspected. Still.
He crossed to the archway and accepted the gift. He pulled the end of the white satin ribbon on the signature-blue Tiffany & Co. box.
“By its shape, I’m certain it’s not a boring fountain pen,” he mused. “So I’m going to go out on a limb and say it’s either cuff links or a keyring.”
“Maybe it’s a diamond-studded tie tack.” She gave a noncommittal shrug.
“I have plenty of those, you realize.”
“Of course. I’ve seen your dressing room. A family of four could live quite comfortably in there.”
“I like my suits.”
“I like your suits, too,” she told him. “Now, open the damn box.”
He removed the lid and retrieved another one contained within, covered in black velvet.
Definitely cuff links.
He grinned. “I’ll like them even if they’re not monogrammed.”
“Didn’t have time for that,” she confessed.
“I didn’t think so.”
He cracked open the lid.
His brow dipped.
Not cuff links.
His gaze lifted slowly. And connected with Nikki’s.
“What is this?” he cautiously asked. Cautiously…optimistic.
Tears suddenly tinged her eyes and she said, “It’s precisely what it looks like. A wedding band. Yours. That is…” Her lips pressed together as emotion seemed to crash over her. She was barely able to murmur, “if you’ll marry me.”
50
“I couldn’t leave the country without running a few errands,” she explained. “And I didn’t want your agents tailing me all over town and reporting back to you. So I asked Fiora to get us out of the airport, unseen… And she did.”
He mock-glowered. “You like pointing that out to me.”
With a shrug, Nikki said, “Bears mentioning, I think. In the event you have any doubt that she has mad skills as a bodyguard.”
“And as a special ops agent. I see where you’re going with this. Duly noted.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Now. About this ring, I—”
He suddenly swept her up in his arms and kissed her.
The way Damen Castillo knew would light her up, while also making her melt.
Nikki would come back to him, time and time again. Just for this. Always for this.
He lifted her slightly off her feet as she clung to him and their kiss went on and on. She felt every ounce of love flow through him, felt the tremor in his arms from holding her so fiercely, felt the heat and the desire blaze between them.
Nikki had no interest in coming up for air. She had no interest in ever letting go of him—and vice versa.
Although, eventually, a crucial thought did dawn on her.
Dragging her mouth from his, she took a second to drew in a deep stream of air, then asked, “Was that kiss strictly because we’re standing under the mistletoe, or are you saying yes to my proposal?”
His blue eyes twinkled mischievously as he countered with, “What do you think?”
Her gaze narrowed on him. “Do not toy with me at a time like this.”
With a soft chuckle, he said, “Both. And you damn well know it.”
He kissed her again.
Nikki let her mind go blank once more.
Instead of overthinking or overanalyzing anything at all, she simply gave herself, fully, to the passion arcing between them. She gave herself to Damen.
He was in no rush to speak, no rush to break the physical contact. In fact, she had no idea how long they stood under that mistletoe,
melded together.
It probably would have been another hour or more.
But then they heard a high-pitched (and familiar) shriek and two seconds later, Mads was crying, “She’s back! She’s back!” And clapping her hands while she yelled out, “Nana, Dr. Kane came back for Christmas!”
“Truly a miracle,” Damen murmured.
“No, not so much.” Nikki smiled up at him as he set her on her feet. Glancing over her shoulder, she told Mads, “Nobody likes to travel on the holiday. Especially when they’re already in the exact place they want to be.”
Mads clapped a bit more, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Her eyes watered. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she told Nikki. Then she pointed to her face and excitedly added, “You did see my eyebrows, right?”
They were stamped with rainbows.
Nikki’s arms were still around Damen and neither one of them were giving up their hold on the other, but Nikki remained focused on his niece.
“You did them perfectly,” she said. “You practiced.”
“All morning.” She sighed with dramatic exasperation. “I wanted them to be just right.”
“You nailed it,” Nikki assured her.
“Awesome! So,” Mads rushed on, “you’re here for lunch. And that means you’re also here for cake! We just finished baking one. Now, we need to decorate it. You can help.”
“Let me guess,” Nikki ventured. “With unicorns and rainbows?”
“No, silly.” Mads laughed. “It’s a Christmas cake. We’re decorating it with snowmen and presents and trees. We just need a few more minutes for it to cool. Then come into the kitchen to help us. Plllleeeaaasssseeee?”
Tears filled her eyes as Nikki realized this really and truly was where she wanted to be today. So she nodded and Mads skipped off.
Shifting her gaze back to Damen, she asked, “How’d I get the cake decorations wrong?”
He grinned. Slowly. Sexily.
Almost making her forget her query.
He said, “She’s nine. There is absolutely no predictability involved here.”
“Excellent point.”
Finally, he released her. But his gaze remained locked with hers as he quietly said, “Tell me exactly why you came back.”
“It’s really very simple. I just had to allow my psyche to latch onto it all, let all the pieces fall into place. Most definitely, I want to continue assisting people in traumatic situations. But it occurred to me that, within this house, there are three people whose lives were shattered. Three people who tragically lost two special someones who meant so much to them. Just recently. And I didn’t want to walk away from that, Damen.”
“It’s not your responsibility, Nik,” he asserted.
“Maybe it’s more of… An opportunity. We all have something from which we need to heal.”
“Strength in numbers, hmm?”
“It’s a very sensible theory. Also…” She whisked her fingers along his temple and into his hair. “I couldn’t go off to do my work without you. I don’t want to go anywhere without you.”
His eyes clouded. “I can’t always be available, Nik.”
“I know. That’s okay. I have a huge network, people who can appear anywhere at anytime in my stead. And there’s something to be said for learning about your mental health, Damen, as well as the operations of the med facility on the ops campus. The more immersed I am there, if viable, the more I’ll learn about what you do, what you go through—and how I can effectively counsel you and your agents.”
“You want to join my team?”
“I still have my own team,” she reminded him. “But, yes. I happen to have mad skills, myself,” she teasingly said. Though more seriously added, “I want to utilize them not only to the best of my ability, but also to the benefit of anyone who needs them.”
“You are truly an amazing woman, Dr. Nikki Kane.”
The tears crested her eyes and tumbled down her cheeks.
Damen said, “We could be extremely good together as our own team, too.”
He removed the ring from the black velvet folds and slid it on his finger. The all-important one.
He took a moment to admire it, then he told her, “You do understand we’ll have to do this all over again, with your ring. When I propose.”
“On bended knee, I presume.”
“I do like traditions.”
With a soft laugh, she said, “I’m perfectly happy to discover them all.”
“And create new ones. Just for us.”
She stared at him through her tears and dared to ask, “What’s your stance on children, by the way?”
“I’m helping to raise a nine-year-old girl,” he quipped.
She scowled. “I meant—”
“I know what you meant.”
He brushed away a few of the drops tumbling along her cheeks and then cupped the sides of her face with his hands. “My stance is, the sooner you get that IUD taken out… The better.”
More tears pooled. The corners of her mouth quivered.
Nikki didn’t have a sassy retort.
All she could say was, “I’m glad I came back.”
“I’m glad you did, too.” He kissed her again, his arms encircling her waist as he held her tight once more.
When Mads returned and muttered, “Um, time’s up, people,” they pulled apart from each other.
Damen leaned in though and whispered in her ear, “We’ll work on her timing.”
“It’s fine—we’re going to have plenty of interruptions in the future. We should get used to it.” Nikki linked her arm with his. “Besides, any more of those kisses and we’d just end up in bed, to hell with lunch.”
“Now that you’ve mentioned it—”
“Except that I’m starving,” she told him. “And it’s Christmas.”
“Then let’s eat cake.”
As they crossed the marble floor and headed to the kitchen, following an exuberant Mads, Nikki mused, “You in a dress shirt and pants, wearing a wedding band, gives you a very distinguished look. The women will flock to you in droves, Mr. Castillo. More so than normal, is my guess.”
“Trust me when I say, I won’t even notice. I will, however, happily acknowledge the ring for anyone who might miss it.”
“Something tells me infidelity will be the least of our problems.”
“I’m confident we can mitigate any others. After everything we went through, we ended up together. Right?”
She kissed him on the cheek and said, “As Fiora Garcia suspected all along.”
“Now, Nik—”
She laughed. “Just stating the woman’s case for her.”
“Tomorrow, state her case. Today… Be my fiancée.”
“I will love every single second of it,” she assured him. “As much as I love you.”
Take Me (Book 1 in the Take Me Series)
Excerpt: Take Me
“You want to help me, Kate? Take your dress off and let me get you out of my system…”
Jude McMillan’s sexy words ignite Kate Stockman’s nerve endings. Every single one of them. But as Jude’s former therapist, Kate’s secret attraction borders on forbidden—making her fantasies of the wealthy, tormented attorney even hotter. Kate knows she must resist the temptation of Jude’s dark, brooding looks, his chiseled-to-perfection body, his intriguing tattoo…and his damaged soul. Kate has enough complications in her life. Yet everything about Jude McMillan is everything her body craves.
Jude’s desire for Kate has simmered below the surface for three years. When she’s in need of a favor from him, in the form of a date for her younger brother’s engagement party, Jude suspects Kate’s all-business attitude is secretly in dire need of an all-pleasure evening.
Precisely what he’s willing to give her.
Chapter 1
“I don’t fuck indiscriminately,” Jude McMillan asserted. Then winced as a sharp pain lanced through him.
“I’m not here to judge. I listen and counsel,”
Kathryn Stockman pointedly said. “And for a new twist, provide first aid.”
She gingerly pressed a damp surgical pad to Jude’s upper back, cleaning his opened wounds. This time, he fought the flinch.
“Did you climb into bed with a tiger in the middle of the night?” she asked.
“One would think.” He was standing at the panoramic windows in his Lexington Avenue office, his hands braced on the ledge as he stared out at the Chrysler Building. It was a dreary day in Manhattan, with a thick gray haze ribboning through the skyscrapers while a light drizzle fell from the overcast sky. The weather mirrored his mood, which continued to blacken in Kate’s presence.
He tried like hell not to consider how detrimental this incident might be to her perception of him. Thoroughly knowing it shouldn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Unfortunately, he admired and respected Kate. Spent way too much time fixated on her.
Jude had dropped his therapy sessions with her a year ago for those very reasons. Now here he was, his dress shirt stripped off while she tended to his injuries and pried from him this new litany of deep, dark secrets he managed to keep from everyone but her.
“These aren’t your typical sex scratches,” she commented, a slight edge to her tone, though she remained passive otherwise, as though immune to this situation—the vicious cuts and the details of the previous evening she anticipated him divulging. “These are gouges. My guess is they’re from stiletto fingernails. A dangerous trend, apparently—you actually lost some blood.”
“And ruined three-thousand-dollar sheets in the process,” he retorted, shooting for nonchalance. Missing the mark miserably, because he loathed being in this position.
Jude McMillan was an industrial risk insurance attorney who worked on multi-million-/billion-dollar losses. Global organizations and Fortune 500 companies kept him on retainer to head up potential subrogation activities or other legal claims and complications following epic financial, environmental and mortal disasters. He was a man sought after specifically for his expertise, attention to detail, decisive conclusions and shrewd negotiations—his proficiency coming with a lofty price tag.