by Meg Lacey
“Your version of the truth, you mean?”
“No, the reality of it. Your father is following in my father’s footsteps more closely than I’d like.”
“Oh please—” The light dawned and she jerked away from him. “Gambling? You’re talking about gambling? You’re crazy. Daddy doesn’t gamble. He hates Las Vegas. And,” she pointed out with a firm finger poke to Nicholas’s chest, “he doesn’t even like cards.”
“No. But he does like the ponies, the dog races, big-time sports, anything else he can find to drop a bundle on.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is true. This isn’t the first time he’s come to me to bail him out.”
“I don’t believe—”
“It’s the fifth. But this time the money is a lot bigger. The stakes are much higher. This time, he got in way over his head.”
Raven was silent, staring up at him, unwilling to accept his words but seeing the truth on his face. “No,” she finally said, “we would have known. My mother would have known.”
“Mine didn’t.”
“He said my sisters would have to cancel their weddings.”
“I won’t let that happen.”
“And my mother’s health is suffering. But you don’t care.”
Nicholas flinched. “I offered him an out.”
“He said you wouldn’t help.”
“Not true. Your father turned me down.”
“No. He wouldn’t do that. Not under these—”
“He did. I offered to pay off all debts this one last time if he’d go into rehab, Gambler’s Anonymous. After that, all of his assets would go into a trust managed by me as the Kristof family representative and by someone else of his choosing.”
“Daddy could appeal to cousin Darcy.”
“Raven, I’m speaking for Darcy too. I didn’t make this decision on my own. Darcy and I talked it over.”
Her lip curled. “I’ll bet you did. And I’ll bet you enjoyed telling him, didn’t you?”
He looked hurt as well as annoyed. “No, I didn’t. It wasn’t easy saying this to your father.”
“This can’t be necessary, Nicholas. You’re prejudiced and you’ve made Darcy that way too. My father isn’t some degenerate lowlife who hangs out in smoky betting parlors. Look at his background, for heaven’s sake. He’s not like-” Raven bit her lip.
“Like my father, you mean? What? Just because your father had a royal ancestor way-back-when, he’s too good to get himself into the same situation as my mongrel dad?”
Raven laid her hand on his arm, saying gently, “I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”
“No, it didn’t. You just remember one thing, sweetheart. The litters bred from mongrels are hardier than most purebreds.”
At that moment, the black-and-white kitten tired of being ignored. It climbed into Raven’s lap, hunkering down to growl and bat at her fingers. She looked down at the scrappy kitten, for which mongrel was probably a kind description. “You’re probably right. There’s nothing impressive about this little vagabond, is there?”
“Nothing except the attitude.” Nicholas smoothed her hair back, tucking it behind her ears. “It reminds me of someone.”
Raven looked up, a slight smile trying to break through the emotion and worry she could feel tightening her face until she thought it would crack. “Anyone I know?”
“Someone I don’t want to live without.”
Raven stared into his eyes. “My father wants me to marry Jackson. If I have anything more to do with you, he threatened to cut me out of the family. Cut all rights and privileges and never speak to me again.” A wry smile twisted her lips. “I’ll bet that doesn’t include denying me the family fortune, does it?”
Responding to her humorous attempt, Nicholas smiled and touched her hand. “Not unless he agrees to my deal.”
Raven played with the kitten for a moment. “I’ve discovered something about myself recently. I’m tired of being that scared, lonely little girl who needs to be noticed. I want more than that. I don’t need a high-profile marriage to a rich up-and-coming blueblood to matter. I just need me.”
“It’s always been more than enough, Raven. You just didn’t open your eyes enough to see it. So you overcompensated.”
“Like you did?”
“You’re right,” he agreed, somewhat surprised. “With me it was money and business success. With you—”
“Notoriety and masculine attention. Something Freudian in that, I’m sure.” She was quiet for a moment, then chuckled. “Growing up isn’t for wimps, is it?”
Nicholas tickled the kitten. “Some find it easier than others. No matter what type of litter they come from.”
“I hate to tell you this, but you’re not the only mongrel in the family, Nicholas. My parents prefer to forget it, but my branch of the family tree also sprang from a disreputable great-great-grandfather who drank his way through every bar in the territory, scraping rocks from the ground before he finally struck a massive silver deposit.”
Nicholas grinned. “I forgot about that too.”
“So did I. Maybe it’s time I put more of that scrappy part of my heritage to good use.”
“You’re not going to do what your father wishes?”
“I’m not going to marry Jackson, if that’s what you mean.”
He grinned. “It wasn’t. That’s a given.”
“You think so?”
“I know so, sweetheart. I have other plans for you.”
Her heart was beating so loudly she wondered if he could hear it. Wanting to ask what he meant, but delaying the moment to let the anticipation build, much like a slow devastating orgasm, she returned to her concern about her father, “I have no choice but to tackle my father with the truth.”
Nodding, Nicholas looked doubtful. “I hope he’ll listen to you.”
Her jaw firmed. “He’ll listen.”
Nicholas gave her a wry smile. “Somehow, I think you’re right.”
“If I get him into rehab, will you help him again? Or is that offer off the table?”
Nicholas looked away for a moment. “I’m tempted to say it’s off just so he’ll finally stand up and take responsibility for his actions, but,” he looked back at her, his expression making her quiver, “I can’t do that. Not anymore. So, yes, the offer’s still on the table. It’s the only way I’ll ever get what I want out of this mess.”
She held her breath, then plunged. “What do you want, Nicholas?”
His eyes met hers. “I want you.”
Even as she tried to keep her pride, she knew her expression revealed the hurt and humiliation she was feeling from their encounter the night before. “You could have had me. You stopped, remember?”
“We need to talk about last night.”
“The time for talking is past, Nicholas.”
Nicholas stared at her for a long moment, hunger and something else at war in his eyes. His mouth hardened as he tried to exert control before he surrendered. He grabbed her arms and pushed her back onto the quilt, surprising the litter of kittens. The black-and-white kitten squeaked, growled and scrambled to safety along with his brothers and sisters.
“You’re right. We’ll talk later.”
Chapter Nine
As she lay back on the quilt, Nicholas joined her, his movements so deliberate they were almost slow motion.
Her body tensed with need, ripened with longing as he settled against her. No matter how much she loved her father, regardless of her father’s demand, she could no more cut this man from her life than she could stop breathing. But if forced to choose between Nicholas and her father, what would she do? What could she do? They were both necessary in her life. Past or future? It was her decision.
Raven stared up into his brilliant gaze, into dark eyes that could freeze with displeasure or warm with humor, eyes that now heated with passion. “Nicholas,” she sighed, the sweetness of his name lingering on her lips.
“No more words,�
�� he muttered, his hands diving into her hair.
“I just wanted—” She caught her breath as his mouth rained kisses soft as a spring shower over her face.
“You’ll get what you want, sweetheart, and this time by God, so will I,” he whispered into her ear before he caught her earlobe between his teeth.
She shivered and wrapped her arms around him, urgent now, desperate to feel him against her, to feel the weight of him pressing her down, his contours fitting against hers. Then she surprised both of them by giggling.
Nicholas raised his head and glared down at her. “What?”
“You’re wearing a coat.”
“Yeah?”
“So am I.”
He stared at her as if she’d gone mad. “It’s winter and frigging freezing outside.”
She patted his down jacket. “It’s like trying to make love to a polar bear.”
He scowled at her for a moment, and then caught the humor of the situation. He sat up and started ripping at his zipper, swearing when it got stuck. He swiped a hand through his hair before renewing his attack. He speared another glare at Raven as she giggled again.
She sat up and slapped his hands aside. “Let me help.”
Her fingers made quick work of the problem. She parted the coat and placed her hands on his chest, against the fine wool of his sweater. Holding his eyes with hers, she slid her hands up to his shoulders, removing the coat as she did so. With an impatient grunt, he extracted his arms from the sleeves and tossed the jacket aside. Then he got Raven’s jacket off so fast she almost missed it.
“In a hurry?” she teased, climbing onto his lap to straddle him.
“Yes. No,” he said, sliding his hands up her back and under her hair to cup her neck. He tugged her head back. “Look at me.”
“I am.”
“Really look at me.”
She wrinkled her brow as she stared into his intense gaze. “I see you. I want you.”
“Do you? No matter what? Because I’m just a man, Raven. I make mistakes. God knows I’ve made my share with you.”
“We all make mistakes. My father—”
“Let’s keep your father out of this.”
“How can I?”
“Because he has nothing to do with this. With you and me.”
“He has everything to do with us. You must know how much it means that you’ll help—”
Nicholas dropped his hands to her shoulders and gripped hard. “God dammit, Raven, this,” he said, thrusting his hips upward to emphasize his point, “isn’t a way to repay me.”
When his hips surged against her, Raven’s blood started to heat even as her heart began icing over at his words. “I never—”
He gave her a little shake. “That’s not what this is about.”
Her denial dried up as she stared back at him. She licked her lips, trying to get enough moisture to form the words that could change her life. “What is this about?”
His gaze warmed as he stroked a finger down her cheek and around her lips. “Don’t you know?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not a mind reader, Nicholas.”
“Then why don’t I show you, love?” he whispered, his lips a hairsbreadth from touching hers.
Love.
He’d called her that before. It was an endearment she used herself, always in a lighthearted, sophisticated way, as had he. But this time, it was different. This time the word lingered on his lips to melt on hers as they met. The sweetness slipped inside as he opened his mouth to caress her. His hands gentled as they slipped down her back and slid under her sweater to stroke her flesh. With a small mew of delight, she shifted her head, allowing his tongue farther access to all the recesses of her mouth, opening herself to his agile touch, and to the upcoming duel of desire. Her arms encircled him, trying to bring him closer, and when that wasn’t enough, they darted under his sweater to knead his strong back, much as a kitten kneaded its contentment.
Raven felt him shiver.
Nicholas surrendered, letting go, as he hadn’t dared last night. With her body on his, he hardened and his mind filled with her, her heat on his crotch, her lips full and sensuous, her lashes drooping to shade eyes bright with desire. He didn’t know he could want one woman this much. Need one woman this much. His hands continued to explore her body, pushing the sweater up, seeking, searching, before reaching the first prize. He traced the lace edging of the nude-colored bra that revealed more than it concealed. Cupping her breasts, he marveled for a moment at their fullness, at her skin softer than down on a new chick. Her figure was lush. He’d discovered that firsthand last night. But for some reason it seemed fuller, riper, more tempting at this moment, inviting a promise he was now ready to give. Here in this forgotten place, the time was right. No more fighting—himself or anyone else. For better or worse, Raven Rutledge was his. And he was hers. He could finally admit that. He could stop denying what he’d always known deep inside. She was made for him. And he for her. And no one, father or not, was going to stand in his way.
He lowered her back onto the quilt once again. With a flick of his fingers he opened the front catch of her bra, his expression reverent as her flesh spilled free into his waiting hands.
“So beautiful,” he breathed, as awestruck as if he’d never seen a woman before. He lowered his head and dropped a kiss on each breast, inhaling the sweet fragrance that was Raven. His thumbs rubbed her nipples, teasing each into hard points. He glided his fingertips over the tense nubs, smiling as she gasped her delight. Drawing back, weight resting on his elbow, he swept an awed glance over her seductive pose, eyes lingering on each attribute like a kiss.
“Your body’s like a fine instrument, Raven. Sensual, sensitive, incredibly responsive.”
He kept his eyes on hers as he skimmed his right hand down, following the curve of her breast to her waist, over the material of her pants, then around to cup her bottom and pull her closer. “It’s capable of making grown men weep.”
“Nicholas,” she breathed, her eyes wide with wonder and with questions as she watched him, “I’ve never…” Emotion swamped her as she lost her words.
He smiled again and finished her sentence, ”…heard me talk like this before?”
Nicholas leaned down and tongued her breast, tugging the nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, the feeling inside him strong and complete. He looked up. “I’ve never felt like this before.” Under his fingertips, her heartbeat leapt. His hunger overwhelmed him. With a sound between a groan and a moan, he cupped the other breast, bringing it to his lips, laving the nub and finally pulling it deep into his mouth.
Raven’s hands pulled his sweater up, the heat of her palms steaming against his back as they grasped his flesh. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she repeated over and over again.
“I can’t,” Nicholas gasped, lifting his mouth only so he could reassure her as he took her lips in a ravenous kiss. They kissed—mouths open, tongues seeking, probing, dueling, caressing, Raven’s lips and body communicating the same feelings that he was too wary to believe and afraid to say—
I love you. Then. Now. Always.
She adjusted her position until her legs were wide and she was sitting directly on his desire. His hardness pressed against her core as he rocked to a sensual rhythm, stimulating his passion and hers until he tore his lips away and attacked the rest of her clothing. Raven did the same. In a few moments, pants, sweaters, boots, socks were all tossed around the stall until there was only a pair of tight low briefs and a thong, which barely covered her, to provide whatever modesty was left.
Glancing at the scrap of silk so fine it was transparent, Nicholas chuckled. He fingered the lace trim, slipping a long fingertip beneath. “I don’t know why you bother with this.” He leaned over to press a kiss on her mound.
“Sometimes I don’t.”
He moaned. “Oh God, now that’s an image I won’t forget.”
“I don’t want you to forget anything,” she whispered, threading her
fingers through his hair, thrusting her hips up as his finger roamed between her legs, seeking her cleft.
“Don’t worry,” he answered as his finger caressed her pleasure source then slipped inside her to delight her more. Her muscles clenched around him as if they’d never let him go. Being a man, his imagination promptly replaced his fingertip with another part of his anatomy and his impatience to possess her grew.
He withdrew to grab her excuse for underwear and practically rip it off her, leaving her trembling on the blanket beneath him. For just a moment, Nicholas became aware of the chill in the air that penetrated their cozy nest of straw. “Are you cold?”
“Are you crazy?” she answered, reaching for him. “I’m so hot, I’m volcanic.”
His grin was fierce as he parted her legs and cupped his hands under her hips to lift her. “Then let’s see if we can explode.”
Dropping a series of small nibbling kisses on her thighs, he took his time, working his way to the main course with long slow strokes. He tasted her with lips and tongue, finally settling in to feast, reveling at the intimacy, at the heat, at the honey sweetness of her as she responded to his touch, building to an inevitable climax. So involved in giving her pleasure was he, that she stunned him by placing her hands onto his shoulders and shoving him away.
“Wha—”
“Not this time,” Raven said her voice tight and raspy with excitement. She pushed him over onto his back and caressed his hard bulge. “I’m not taking a trip alone this time.”
Without giving him time to do more than gasp, she hooked her thumbs in his briefs and pulled them down and off, throwing them over her shoulder before sliding her hands over his legs and between them to hold the heavy weight of his testicles in her palms. “Um,” she whispered, licking her lips as her gaze traveled over him. “You look yummy.”
He grinned, delighted at her aggression, his erection so hard he could blast through concrete. “Hungry?”
Her eyes met his as her hands raced over his body and back down. Her fingertips circled him and she began a slow caressing stroke, her fingers gentle against his velvety flesh. “Starved.”