Too conscious now of being in the open, she just wanted to get out of there, to get home, before someone caught them.
It was only when they were on the Harley, moving off, that Annie glanced back in time to see a dark figure—Harry Burdock?—meld into the shadows.
9
“I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S COME over me,” Annie admitted to Nick early the next morning. “I’m acting so out of character that I’m starting to scare myself.”
She’d cornered him at his place, Nick’s Knack, which occupied a good-size chunk of the second floor of the six-corner commercial building and sat directly over Annie’s Attic. Nick lived as well as worked here—not that it was zoned for anything but work space, as evidenced by his video equipment. Not only did Nick have his own professional videocam, but he had bought some old editing and sound equipment, as well. A ministudio occupied half of his space, while the other half was filled with metal racks and electronics.
Annie figured Nick’s budget was tighter than hers or Helen’s, so he was saving money by bunking in a corner on an old trundle bed. He didn’t seem to mind, no doubt because he didn’t spend much time here. He worked. He hung out at the cybercafé. And cooking was a foreign word to Nick.
Then there were his regular disappearances, Annie recalled. They kept him away from the place so often that she figured he must be secretly involved with someone he didn’t want to talk about.
Kind of the way she felt about Nate.
Only she had to talk, had to make some sense of why she was doing what she was doing. She’d given Nick an edited version of her late-night tryst with Nate. Thankfully, he’d spared her the embarrassment of having to spell out the details.
“It sounds pretty simple to me,” Nick said. “You’re in lust with the man.”
“With Nate.”
“Right, that’s what I said.”
“No, you said ‘the man.’” She wiggled around on the metal folding chair, trying to get comfortable. “I’m not in lust with Nathaniel, just with Nate.” And maybe a little more than in lust with, she thought, trying not to panic. “So what am I going to do about it?”
He gave her a worried look, but didn’t question her about the Clark Kent–Superman thing. All he said was “Enjoy.”
“I should have known you wouldn’t understand, you…you man.” Though she tried to sound aggrieved, she had a hard time being irritated with Nick.
“So take it to Helen,” he said.
“So she can preach to me? No thanks. I was hoping for a more impartial perspective.”
“You really want it, you got it.” But he didn’t look too comfortable as he added, “Maybe you’re more than in lust. Maybe you’re in love.”
Annie started and felt like a rock had just settled in the pit of her stomach. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“And maybe you don’t want to be.”
“And the reason would be…?”
Nick actually squirmed as he asked, “You’re sure you want to hear this?”
Annie gave him a scathing look. “Would I have come to you if I didn’t want some honesty?”
“All right, I think you’re afraid.”
“Of Nate?” Maybe….
“Of committing yourself.”
She’d been in love once, and look how that had turned out. Still, she said, “I thought you were the one who said I was a one-man woman.”
“No doubt in my mind,” he said with a shrug. “It’s your mind that I’m worried about.”
“Why would I be afraid?”
“Once burned…”
“That was eons ago. I’m over Alan Cooper. I’ve been over him for years,” she said, telling herself that that was not an out-and-out lie.
Alan Cooper had been the reason she hadn’t given any other man a real shot at her—not that she thought it would have mattered if she had. None of them had been Nate.
“Annie, love, if you were over what Alan did to you, you would have gotten on with your life.”
“I have. What do you call Annie’s Attic?”
“An excuse. You’ve settled for your books and movies and the fantasies you create with your work rather than dealing with a real man.”
“I’ve dated other men.”
“Hah! How many did you more than kiss?”
“None of your business, Nicholas Novak!” She wasn’t about to admit that she hadn’t slept with anyone else, though she suspected Nick knew, anyway.
“You haven’t been willing to put yourself out there because Alan was scum and you’ve been afraid the next guy would be scum.”
That was Nick. Honest to a fault. But then she’d asked for it, Annie knew.
“Maybe it’s true that I’ve been cautious,” she admitted, “but it’s also true that I just haven’t met anyone that hit any buttons.”
“Until Nate.”
“Until Nate,” she echoed.
“Now you just have to figure out what buttons those are.”
Heat flushed through her at the memories. “Oh, I think I’ve figured it out.”
“And I think that you’re thinking too simplistically. I wasn’t talking about the physical thing. What is it that attracts you to Nate?”
No man had ever spoken to her the way Nate had, she admitted. He touched her inner core, her true self. Maybe he was the first man who had ever looked deep enough inside her to do so.
But what she said was “His Harley.” If there was anything she could blame for her uncharacteristic behavior, an inanimate object was as good a fall guy as any.
Nick shook his head. “Superficial.”
“Okay. What his Harley represents.”
“Which is?”
“A free spirit. Someone who lives in the moment. Takes risks.” Then she remembered how it had all started, how safe and excited she’d felt from day one. “Someone who is willing to get up in the middle of the night to come to my rescue, even when I didn’t exactly need rescuing.”
“Your knight in shining armor.”
Remembering having that exact fantasy, she said, “As close to one as I’ll ever meet. Only…he’s more of a black knight.”
“Because he makes you take risks.”
Risks she didn’t even want to think about in the light of day. “And he scares me sometimes.”
“Is he the one who scares you, or is it Nathaniel?”
“Nathaniel? Not hardly. He’s too conventional.”
“Exactly. And he reminds you of Alan.”
Annie’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t made that connection, but now that Nick had…
“Not every man’s an Alan Cooper, Annie. Not every man’s a piece of scum who is so bored with life that he’ll turn your world upside down and think of it as a game.”
It’s only a game….
Nate’s easily issued words still haunted her, still tainted what should be a joyful memory.
“How do I know the difference?” she asked, wanting in the worst way to get on with her life, just like Nick had prodded her to do. Why couldn’t she have it all—the things romance novels promised? And why not with Nate?
“I wish I could tell you.”
“I wish you could, too.” Then it came to her. “Maybe you can, Nick, buddy.”
He narrowed his gaze at her as he said, “I think you should trust your own instincts.”
“I’d rather trust yours. I relied on my own instincts once and look what happened. I had different fantasies then. Marriage, kids, the nice house and a couple of pets. All exploded in my face.” Annie swallowed hard. She didn’t want to beg, but she would if she had to. Helen had raised some credible doubts, and Nick was the protective big brother she’d never had. “I’m getting in deep, Nick, and I don’t know what to trust anymore. But your instincts have always been good.”
She gave him her best soulful look, expecting him to cave as he normally would. Though he might have his problems with the rest of the world, he could never resist helping out her or Helen in a crisis.<
br />
“Annie…”
“Nick, please. I don’t want to believe anything bad about Nate, but his family does have a mobster client—charming in his own crude way, but still a mobster, and apparently only Nate can handle him. And Helen has me a little spooked about all these things that have been happening to me. My business being attacked. The mysterious notes. The photographs. The call in the night.”
“Whoa, back up there. What call in the night?”
“It happened after I covered the windows. I picked up the phone and at first no one said anything. Then a voice—some guy—said I couldn’t hide from him.”
A pulse ticked in Nick’s cheek and his expression made her catch her breath.
“Please, do this for me,” she begged. “Please.”
He didn’t answer right away.
Annie shifted uncomfortably.
“All right,” he finally agreed in a tight voice. “I’ll ask around, see what I can find out about the man.”
Clearly he was uncomfortable, but he had agreed, and that’s all Annie cared about. After her wanton behavior, she needed some reassurances that she wasn’t playing the fool. That her heart wasn’t opening up for the first time since Alan, only to be broken once more. She wanted at least a reasonable reassurance that Nate—or Nathaniel, more precisely—wouldn’t make a fool out of her in the end.
Not that she was thinking about rose-covered cottages or kids or whatever. She just wanted a relationship in which she could have not only excitement, but trust as well.
Rising from her chair, she hugged Nick. “Thanks. See you tonight at my place.”
“I’ll be there,” he said as she made for the door. “Will Nate?”
She stopped with her hand on the knob and squeezed it harder than necessary to make it turn. “I hope so.” Then, throwing open the door, she headed down the stairs.
Annie had invited Nate to the party the night before, when he’d come into her place for a few minutes. She was a little upset that he’d been noncommittal, telling her that he would have to check his calendar—a fact that bothered her as much as his quick departure had. She’d tried to excuse him, thinking he might, indeed, have other plans.
Or he could be feeling a little weird about the experience she had initiated in the alley.
Remembering the movement in the shadows, Annie took a shaky breath and stepped out onto the street. Had someone been watching them? Harry Burdock, perhaps? Or what about Clive Hardy? She wouldn’t even cross Vincent Zavadinski off that list. Or maybe it had been no one. Maybe her imagination had been in high gear, like it was now.
She fancied hidden eyes followed her as she left the doorway and sprinted the several yards to her shop, which wouldn’t be open for business for hours yet.
Once inside, she paused and stared out the window, as if by sheer will she could reveal the dark secrets of the now sunlit street.
Not to mention the identity of a stalker.
NATE FOUGHT WITH HIMSELF about going to Helen’s birthday party. She didn’t like him because she obviously thought she had his number. If only Helen knew how wrong she was…
He would have to get her a last-minute present, he decided. Unfortunately, he didn’t think she was bribable. Despite his irritation with the blonde, he decided that Annie was more important than Helen’s bad opinion of him.
Seeing Annie, touching her, doing unspeakable things to her to make her writhe with passion and scream out his name—things that would be so good they would drive away the last of her inhibitions—had become his obsession. And until that obsession was satisfied, he couldn’t afford to miss an opportunity to be with her.
And he had to admit she was beginning to mean more to him than he’d ever imagined she could. What had started as a challenge had metamorphosed into something deeper, something more intense. Something scarier, he acknowledged. But he was ready and willing to see how far those feelings could go. And to do that, he had to stay in Annie’s good graces.
To that purpose, he dressed with care—not the black leathers, but worn jeans and a silk T that she wouldn’t be able to resist touching. Thinking about her hands on him, and especially about her wicked little mouth, gave him a hard-on. Though he tried to control himself, it was no use, Nate conceded.
Hopefully, the vixen would be properly flattered. He’d hardly dented his plans for her, and now was not the time for things to go awry.
“WOW, THIS IS SOME improvement,” Helen said from her spot on the couch. “Who would have guessed some swaths of material over the windows could make such a difference? It’s starting to look like an actual home.”
Next to Helen, John Riley was pouring her a glass of wine. “Very private,” he said. “Too bad it blocks the light.”
“During the day, the upper windows give me plenty of light,” Annie told him.
She craned her neck, looking around the large room. The space was filled with mutual friends and acquaintances from the neighborhood, most standing in the kitchen area and chatting despite the music blasting from her stereo.
“You need to do more decorating like this,” Helen added. “It suits you.”
“I do like it,” Annie admitted as she admired the window hangings from an aesthetic point of view—not just as a source of privacy. She was trying to forget about the photographs of herself, but they haunted her, especially since the windows seemed to be the focal point of the conversation. “Actually, I have two rooms of estate-sale treasures upstairs. I keep meaning to work them down this way, but I can’t seem to find the time.”
“So make the time. You work too hard.”
Nick snorted. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.”
Annie tuned out for a moment as her two friends traded barbs.
Was Nate coming or not? He hadn’t gotten back to her, but she still had hopes. She’d chosen her soft broomstick skirt and matching embroidered vest to please him.
“Let’s dance,” Nick said, dragging Annie to a clear area under the windows.
Once they started, others joined in, including Helen and Riley. Annie looked at them a little enviously. She would give anything to be in Nate’s arms instead of Nick’s.
But she wasn’t going to let his absence spoil Helen’s birthday, she decided, as the music ended.
“Food!” she yelled in Nick’s ear, dragging him to the refrigerator.
With his help, she covered the counter and coffee table with tasty snacks from a local gourmet shop. The spinach-artichoke dip, red pepper and eggplant hummus and smoked Gouda with an assortment of crackers made a tasty-looking spread. Riley opened another bottle of wine and played bartender.
“Dig in,” Annie said, taking a glass and following him back to the couch, where he took his seat next to Helen.
Riley asked, “So what other kinds of things did you get in that estate sale?”
Unable to remember a single piece of art that would fit in Gallery R, Annie said, “I doubt there’s anything that would interest you.”
“Try me.”
“Decorative stuff, including a few paintings and watercolors, but nothing of note. Some personal things…”
“As in?” He leaned back and stretched an arm out along the couch back behind Helen.
Annie was going to have to get her friend to spill, as Nick so aptly put it, she decided, wishing that she was on the couch and Nate was wrapping his arm behind her.
“Some old costume jewelry. A salt and pepper shaker collection. A box of fancy fans.” Which she was now thinking would be fun to mount on the wall closest to her bed. “A bunch of old framed photographs.”
“How interesting are the frames?” Riley asked over a muffled buzzing sound that cut off abruptly.
Annie’s pulse picked up. “Uh, excuse me,” she said, practically running to the door. Then she slowed down purposefully and, taking a deep breath, waited for the doorbell to sound.
But the moment it did, she dragged open the door, to find Nate standing on the other side. No matt
er that she was irritated over the fact that he hadn’t called. He was here now. Looking good enough to eat…again. And he cradled a gaily wrapped package in the crook of one arm.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Had to stop to get something for the birthday girl.”
“Hey, no problem. We’ve just opened the wine.”
While securing the door, she was aware of Nate flicking his gaze over her approvingly, making her glad that she’d worn something feminine and had let her hair cascade over one shoulder, loosely held by a fancy clip.
“Walk in front of me,” he said softly. “I want to watch the way that material caresses you as you move.”
A command that instantly made her hum all over. A glance below his waist assured her that he was having as strong a reaction to her as she was to him. Those worn jeans hid nothing! Raising her eyebrows, she blinked at him, adjusted her glasses and did as he demanded. She couldn’t help herself.
Grinning happily, she rejoined her friends. “Look who I found wandering around outside.”
Helen’s smile was tight, but she refrained from comment.
Riley handed Nate a glass of wine. “Seeing you here tonight is something of a surprise. Our hostess wasn’t exactly forthcoming about the guest list.”
“Any more surprises?” Helen asked mildly.
Nate answered, “I’ll see what I can do.”
Annie told herself to ignore the sudden tension between the man she lusted after and her best friend. She didn’t need anything spoiling the evening for her. Or for Helen, for that matter, since it was her special day.
Annie lifted her glass. “A toast,” she proposed, waving the others over. “To good friends, wonderful birthdays and success and enjoyment in all our endeavors.”
“Sure you didn’t miss something?” Nick teased, raising his glass.
They all toasted, clinked and slipped.
Drinking and nibbling, they chatted about birthdays, trying to outdo each other with amusing stories and memories.
Busy devouring Nate with her eyes and lusting after him in her heart, Annie only half listened, wrapped up in her happiness that he was here.
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