by Tara Leigh
A dark eyebrow quirked upward. “Is it working?”
His hands slid to my waist, butterflies fluttering beneath his fingers. I was drowning in a sea of want. “You don’t fight fair.”
He flashed that cocky, confident smile he wore so well. “I play to win, Nixie. Fairness is a concept I left behind in kindergarten.”
Reluctantly, I stepped out from the circle of his arms and onto the curb. Nash’s offhand admission was a warning, one that deserved equal weight to rainbows and pretty promises. “I’ll consider your offer and get back to you,” I said, forcing a lightness to my tone that belied my heavy heart.
Fixing my sight on a jockey sporting a red-and-white checked vest, I crossed the sidewalk to the famed restaurant’s entrance. Nash caught up to me just as the doorman opened the door, and we swept into the sumptuous New York landmark together.
I’d never been to the 21 Club before, and we were escorted past an elegant bar with rich leather stools embellished by polished brass nailheads, then down a steep staircase and through a narrow corridor. I was beginning to get nervous when we finally came to a sumptuous wine cellar. An older man wearing glasses and a tweed sport coat was already seated at the room’s only table. He stood, holding out his hand. “Thought it would be best to meet privately.”
I glanced at Nash through lowered lashes, but his expression was impossible to read. He nodded and they shook hands. “Best spot in the house.”
“And this must be your fiancée.” He turned to me with a fatherly grin on his face. I liked him immediately.
Nash put a hand on my waist. “Nixie Rowland, this is Mack Duncan.”
The man grasped my hand warmly with both of his. “It’s a pleasure to meet the woman who finally captured the Black Knight of Wall Street.”
Nash
If I thought Nixie was gorgeous in jeans and a T-shirt, she was downright breathtaking in a pair of fuck-me stiletto boots and an outfit that was somehow soft and structured at the same time. I’d intended to talk to her about my conversation with Paul Attwood, but thoughts of anything else beyond getting her into bed slipped away the second I laid eyes on her. If Nixie hadn’t stopped me, I would have blown off dinner with Duncan without a second thought, even if it meant risking the deal. Nixie Rowland had become a fundamental part of my life—the woman had invaded my mind, reversed my priorities, changed everything I knew about the man I thought I was.
At the restaurant, Nixie and Duncan hit it off immediately, their conversation flowing from one topic to another without being stilted or uncomfortable—which was a good thing because I could barely string two words together. Between the unreleased sexual tension sending blood flow to places other than my brain, everything I’d learned from Paul Attwood, and fear that Nixie would discover I’d proposed marriage to secure a business deal, I was jumpy and distracted.
Most of all, I was pissed at myself for not coming clean to Nixie earlier and avoiding this situation entirely.
After two interminable hours Duncan took a last hearty swallow of his after-dinner coffee and I subtly extended my Amex to the waiter hovering nearby. I couldn’t wait to leave and have Nixie all to myself again. What the hell had I been thinking, staying away from her since we’d returned to New York?
Duncan put down his coffee cup. “Well, it looks like I was wrong about you,” he said. “I guess you aren’t just a charmer, chasing skirts and companies with no concern for either. The love of a good woman has a way of makin’ a man’s head straight.”
Nixie laughed. “I don’t know about that. I think Nash was pretty level-headed before he met me.”
“I think you’re wrong. Did Nash tell you—”
I jumped in before any inconvenient truths could be revealed. “No need to bore Nixie with the details of our first meeting—”
Duncan nodded. “You’re probably right.” My relief evaporated when he continued. “I told my kids about it over Thanksgiving, though. Said I met a man who would probably take NetworkTech in directions I couldn’t even imagine, but I didn’t have it in me to sell to him.”
Nixie leaned forward, her face open and interested. “Really?”
Fuck. Me.
“Nope. And that’s what I said to your fiancé, too, back when we met for the first time in Nebraska. That if he wanted my company, I needed to know he was serious, settled.”
Dread congealing in my bones, I watched as Nixie processed Duncan’s words. “Married,” she breathed, the color slowly draining from her face.
Duncan grinned, clapping me on the back with a meaty hand. “If a man can’t commit to one woman, how can he commit to a business, am I right?” He looked from Nixie to me and then back again.
“Right,” she said softly.
I wanted to do something, anything, to shear off the disappointment clouding Nixie’s features. I was trying to figure out what that could be when Duncan spoke up again. The man needed a damn muzzle. “I know it’s late, but why don’t we go back to your office and hammer out a few details before we get the lawyers involved?”
“Actually, I think—”
This time, Nixie interrupted. “No, that’s fine,” she said, balling up the napkin in her lap and standing. “I’m actually really tired. You should go, Nash. I’d rather just head straight to bed.” The alone was unspoken but as obvious as if it had been shouted into a loudspeaker.
Nixie walked around me to plant a kiss on Duncan’s cheek. “It was lovely meeting you.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” he beamed. “I promise I’ll send him back to you very soon.”
Nixie lobbed a smile my way that was as fake as the cast iron jockeys outside the restaurant. “No need. He’s all yours.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Nixie
I was still reeling from last night’s revelation as I walked through the enormous Disney store in Times Square. It wasn’t like I’d believed Nash’s proposal meant he was head over heels in love with me or anything, but really—a business deal? And it made what he’d said in the car on the way to dinner seem as unrealistic as the outrageous window displays of the luxury retailers lining Fifth Avenue. And just as temporary.
We were both getting something from our arrangement, I knew that. I just wished Nash had been honest with me. The fact that he hadn’t, that he’d deliberately let me believe his trip down the aisle was out of the goodness of his heart, just made me wonder what else he was hiding.
He had seemed intent on telling me something before dinner—probably just another lie. Nash was no better than Derrick. Dirty liars, both of them.
Nash and I had planned to apply for our marriage license later this afternoon, and I wasn’t sure that I should go ahead with it. Was I just trading one bad situation for another? I’d left the hotel two hours ago, hoping to wander the city and be alone with my tumultuous thoughts, but of course Jay had been right outside my door. Did the man ever sleep?
At least Nash stayed away. I wasn’t ready to deal with him until I’d put some order to my confused mind.
I didn’t have any intention of actually shopping today, but when I passed the iconic store, I couldn’t help but think of Madison and her princess obsession. Christmas was in a few days, and regardless of what I decided to do about Nash, I wanted his niece and nephew to have a gift under their tree from me.
Realizing that I was going to be longer than I had anticipated, I made a quick call to the concierge of the Ritz-Carlton and arranged for someone to take Kismet on a walk. There were definitely a few benefits to hotel living.
Half an hour later, entranced by a towering display of tiaras Madison was sure to love, I was tempted to ignore the phone buzzing from inside my winter coat, figuring it was Nash, who I still wasn’t ready to talk to. But in case it was about Kismet, I pulled it from my pocket. Skirting a little boy with a light saber in each hand, attempting to do battle with a life-size Prince Charming, I squinted at the screen. Instead of a text from Nash, there was image of an ice rink filled with skaters. Enlarging the photo,
I tried to discern which rink it was. Definitely not Rockefeller Center. Just as I realized it was Wollman Rink, in Central Park, another picture popped up—this one a close-up of Parker and Madison, sharing a kid-sized walker, sporting helmets and huge grins. My stomach twisted. I was really going to miss those kids.
Me: Eva?
Unknown: Try again.
Me: Nash?
Unknown: Nope.
I frowned over my screen as I searched for an explanation. Me: the kids look so happy, thx for sending the pics! Who is this?
Unknown: Think, Noelle.
A chill raced down my spine and I gasped.
“Everything okay?”
I’d forgotten Jay was right beside me. Forcing the horror from my face, I looked up at him. “Of course. Just a cute photo.” Dropping my phone in my pocket, I straightened. “Do you happen to know where the ladies room is?”
As soon as there was a door between us, I pulled my phone back out. Me: Hanging with the preschool set these days?
Unknown: Why not? It seems you would rather spend time with a pair of four-year-olds than me.
Me: What are you talking about?
Unknown: Don’t play dumb, Noelle. It doesn’t suit you.
Me: Derrick, I’m serious. I don’t understand why you’re sending me pictures of children.
Unknown: You don’t appreciate pictures of your fiancé’s niece and nephew?
My stomach plummeted. Me: Leave Nash’s family alone.
Unknown: No problem.
Me: Thank y—I hadn’t finished typing when another text popped up.
Unknown: Leave Nash.
Was Derrick really threatening Madison and Parker if I didn’t end my engagement to Nash? Knowing Jay was probably wondering what was taking me so long, I started a new text, my fingers moving furiously over the screen. Me: Let’s meet.
Unknown: Ditch your babysitter and come to Wollman. We can get hot chocolate and watch the skaters.
Me: Leave those kids alone, I’ll be right there.
Now I just had to figure out how to shake off Jay.
Splashing cold water on my cheeks, I examined my face in the mirror. My skin was flushed, my eyes glassy and wide. I looked feverish. Good. Hopefully it would work in my favor. I peeked out of the door, dodging a pregnant woman carrying a crying toddler. “Jay,” I called out, hurrying over to where Nash’s driver was waiting just a few feet away. “I’m not feeling well.”
His mouth tightened. “I’ll take your right home.”
“No,” I shook my head. “Can you just get me a bottle of water first?” At Jay’s reluctant expression, I squeezed his thick forearm and began backing away. “Uh oh. I think I need to go again. Would you mind finding a vending machine or something, and I’ll meet you right back here in a few minutes?” By the time I finished my question, I was inside the bathroom again. The toddler’s screams had quieted to a nasal whine, interspersed with hiccups. I sent the woman a sympathetic smile and then peeked out the door again. Jay was gone.
Crossing my fingers, I pulled my hood up over my head and darted out of the ladies room. Heading straight for the elevator, I spotted Jay taking the escalator. I had no idea where he was going to get a bottle of water, my only concern was staying out of his sight long enough to grab a cab. I needed to talk to Derrick away from Jay’s protective presence. No doubt he would be on the phone to Nash in a hot minute if he noticed me sneaking off. And Nash wouldn’t need much of an excuse to go after Derrick by destroying Pappi’s business. I couldn’t let that happen.
With my heart in my throat, I blended into a large family and walked straight through the front door in their midst. For once, I was grateful to be about the same height as a thirteen-year-old boy. Luck was on my side again when a cab pulled to the curb as I set foot on the sidewalk. I jumped in just as Jay barreled through the door, a thunderous expression on his face. “Wollman Rink,” I yelled. “Hurry, please.”
The blocks ticked by agonizingly slowly as I stared out the window. The bright day had turned overcast while I’d been in the store, and now the festive window displays looked more sinister than seductive. I was practically vibrating with the need to find Derrick and get him away from Madison and Parker. He would never do anything to hurt innocent children . . . would he?
The truth was, I didn’t know what Derrick was capable of anymore. Instead of cutting his losses, Derrick’s instinct was to double down, to bet everything he had rather than quit the game. There had been times when his appetite for risk worked in his favor. Today, if Derrick believed hurting Eva’s twins would end my relationship with Nash, I was terrified he would go through with it. And if it meant clearing his debts so he could gamble again, I wouldn’t put anything past him.
The cab finally drew up outside the entrance to Central Park. I shoved cash through the Plexiglass partition and jumped out of the backseat. It had been a few years since I’d been up this way, but I remembered the rink was about a two minute walk from this entrance. Running, I made it through the footpath in less than sixty seconds. Quickly scanning the ice, a high pitched squeak jumped from my throat when I didn’t see Madison or Parker.
“They’ve already headed to the carousel.” Derrick’s voice was gruff, and coming from behind me.
I spun around to face him. “How do I know you didn’t do something to them?”
He shrugged. “I guess you don’t.”
From inside my coat pocket, my phone buzzed. I ignored it. “Derrick, so help me, if you did anything to two little kids—”
A sour smile twisted his lips. “This place would be crawling with cops if those kids went missing, Noelle.” I looked around, unconvinced. “The teachers rounded a whole bunch of kids up, announced that they were going to the carousel. We can walk over there if you want.”
“No,” I gritted out. Realizing he was telling the truth, I shook my head. No way was I going to bring Derrick anywhere near the twins.
“You really think I would hurt them, huh?” Derrick’s hands were shoved into his pockets, his coat unbuttoned as a cold wind rushed through the skyscrapers rising up all around us.
“I don’t know what you’re capable of anymore, Derrick.” It was the truth.
He blinked. Once, twice. His dark eyes appraising me. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”
My phone buzzed again, drawing Derrick’s gaze downward. “That you?”
“It’s not important.”
“You tell Knight where you were going?”
“No,” I said.
Derrick’s face darkened as he grabbed me by my arm, squeezing tight. “Let’s go.”
“Ow!” I tried jerking my arm away, but Derrick’s hold only grew tighter. In my mind, I ran through various moves Nash had taught me, debating whether the situation warranted using one of them.
“Give me your phone,” he demanded.
My eyes darted around, wondering if someone might intervene, but the sun had slipped behind thick clouds and the already cold afternoon was now bitter. The few people still outside were hunched over, their heads ducked down to avoid the wind. Once again I tried pulling away. “Derrick, stop it.”
He held out a hand. “Phone.”
Ignoring the pain in my arm, I tried a different tack. Softening my voice, I forced a smile onto my face and put my free hand against Derrick’s chest. “I’m cold. How about we find a coffee shop and talk. Like we used to, remember?”
Derrick’s grip loosened, his hand sliding up my arm to curve around the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair to grip my skull. Too hard. “Oh, I remember more than that, Noelle. I remember the scared, sad little girl you were when Dad brought you home to live with us. I remember lying awake nights, listening to you cry in the next room, and thinking of ways to make you smile the next day. I remember the day you didn’t look like a little girl anymore, and lying awake nights for a very different reason. And I remember when we started sneaking into each other’s rooms, when you became my whole world.”
My throat was a desert, swallowing nearly impossible, as I recalled our shared past. Years of good memories that had been overshadowed, but not erased, by the recent bad. “Derrick, I—”
His grip on my head tightened, and I winced. “What? Do you want me to remember how you cut and ran at the first sign of trouble? How you won’t even give me the time of day now that you have a hotshot banker to share your bed with?” Spittle flew from his mouth, hitting my face like sharp flecks of sand.
I tried to shake my head, but I couldn’t move. “That’s not how it is.”
“Save it. I wanted you to meet me here today to prove a point.”
“W-what point?”
“How easy it is to get close to people. If I wanted to hurt those kids, I could have. And the guys that are after me, they want money, Noelle. So if I don’t pay up, you know who they’ll hurt?”
Tears stung my eyes as Derrick’s point stabbed me straight through the heart. “Pappi,” I breathed.
His grip finally loosened. “Yeah.”
“Have you considered asking him for the money? You’re his son, he would do anything—”
A fierce look came over his face, eyes narrowing into slits. “You don’t think I tried? I worked alongside my father for most of my life, I know his business as well as he does. I was able to get some cash out, but the bank notified him about the withdrawal.”
“Did you tell him why you needed the money?”
“Yes,” he howled. “I told him everything. And you know what—he packed me off to some gambling addiction rehab facility out in the mountains. Like hiking in sub-zero temperatures could take the place of a game of game of poker.”
I reached out to rub Derrick’s shoulder. “That’s great.”
He looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “No. The guys I owe money to think I ran away from them.” He swiveled his neck, eyes darting around the urban jungle surrounding us. “Nowhere is safe. Not until I get them their money.”
I started to open my mouth but Derrick stopped me. “Give me your phone.”
With shaking hands I reached into my pocket and pulled out my mobile. Derrick glanced at the screen. “A dozen missed calls, about as many texts. Looks like you have Knight by the short and curlies.”