Hearts Are Wild

by Laura Wright

  “Now you’ve done it,” she whispered.

  He lifted a brow. “Now I’ve done what?”

  “You touched me, Nick.”

  And then the fan crashed to the floor and her arms went around his neck.

  Nine

  The animal that dwelled inside of Nick emerged—the animal that only showed its self when Maggie was near. With a guttural sigh he lowered his mouth to hers, then pulled her closer and deepened his kiss. She was right there with him, teetering on the brink of need so raw it had a life of its own as she took his tongue into her mouth.

  He was a fool, he thought as he dragged them both away from the door. This thing between them wouldn’t run its course and peter out. It was here for the long haul, and he needed to face up to that. Hell, he was crazy about her, and it went way past the physical.

  “I want you in my bed,” he said, changing the angle of his kiss and the pressure of his mouth. “And you’re not going anywhere until I make you as crazy as you make me.”

  “Yes.” She was breathless as her fingers plunged into his hair. “Yes, Nick.”

  It was agony to release her, even a little, but it was the only way. He wanted to see her stretched out on his bed, the way he’d imagined her every night they’d been apart.

  Tonight he’d suffered from the heat, too, wrenching the blanket off his bed and leaving just the thin sheet.

  With gentle intensity, he set her down on that cool cotton sheet, then stepped back and drank her in for a moment.

  She stared up at him, her eyes soft and unbearably seductive, while one corner of her mouth lifted in a provocative smile. She made him happy. That sappy realization was drowned out by the blood in his ears when she stretched her arms out to him, making the light fabric of her nightie inch up over her hips and show him that she wore nothing underneath.

  He muttered an oath as he slid into her arms, then murmured, “Montana Eyes,” as he eased himself on top of her and took her mouth once again. He nipped at her lips with his teeth, then smiled when she moaned softly and pressed her hips up against him.

  He could look into those eyes all night, all day. And Nick reveled in the thought that she was his. Maybe not forever, but tonight she was his.

  Her skin felt like hot satin under his palms, and he dragged them slowly up and down her arms as she shivered and made erotic little whimpering sounds.

  “I want to feel you, Nick.”

  “Your skin against mine,” he said, and in one frantic move, he ripped off his towel, then grasped the edge of her nightgown, slipping the cotton fabric over her head. He smiled at her, the sudden tenderness in his heart surprising him. “You’re so beautiful, Maggie,” he said, capturing one creamy shoulder with his mouth, kissing, tasting, feeling more alive than he had in so long. Too long.

  He moved to her neck, his tongue pressing into the hollow where her pulse pounded. He swore that the beat thrummed stronger than the last time he had her beneath him. Satisfaction and longing rushed through his blood as he suckled that spot. Maggie pulled in a breath, stirring restlessly beneath him, yet holding his head to her with surprising strength.

  “You like this?” he asked, blowing against her damp skin.

  “Yes,” she uttered, almost winded and frantic. “Don’t move. Stay right there.”

  It took every ounce of control he had to stay where he was when she tasted like heaven and moved against him in a rhythm that was fevered one moment and slow the next.

  He moved down her body, his tongue tasting, his hands grazing her skin until he cupped her hips and used his mouth on her.

  She gasped. “Nick, I’ve never—”

  “I know, I know. Just let it go, Maggie.” He touched her gently, his fingers stroking the liquid length of her. “Feel how much I want you.”

  She groaned and he went with her and felt how much she wanted him against his fingers. “Maggie,” he breathed, lifting her to his mouth again as his hand moved to her breast.

  She gave herself over to him completely then, pressing against him, her knuckles white as she gripped the sheets.

  “Nick, please.” She looked down at him, and her eyes were the darkest of blue, the deepest shade of passion. “I can’t hold on. I want you inside me.”

  He wanted that, too. He wanted it all.

  With one hand he searched the nightstand and grabbed a foil packet. He quickly protected her, then slipped his arms around her and rolled onto his back, taking her with him.

  “You’re in control now, Maggie.” She straddled him and he grinned up at her. “What are you gonna do about it?”

  At first she looked adorably unsure, but then she smiled and lifted up over him. Anticipation filled him, saturated the air around them. Lord, he wanted to pull her down, bury himself within her, but he wanted her to feel her own power, he wanted her to guide them into a pleasure new to both of them.

  She moved slowly, inching herself down, downward, until he was fully impaled within her. She dragged in a breath, and it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. Then she raked her fingernails across his chest and shifted her hips.

  He thought he’d lose it right there, but he held on. She moaned and began to move, riding him. Lifting up, then driving him back into the hot glove of her body.

  The light from the hallway behind her made her skin look translucent. She was totally absorbed in the movement, in the feeling. He loved watching her, watching her cheeks turn rosy, her nipples bead and her breath labor and catch.

  She was close.

  So was he.

  Her rhythm changed suddenly and he couldn’t hold out. He gripped her hips and guided her up and down at a frantic pace.

  She cried out into the humid air, leaning forward and covering his mouth. Their tongues warred for control while he met her in every way, his blood pounding as she tightened around him.

  Then she gasped, he growled, and their bodies shattered together.

  Lying beside Nick in the semidarkness, her leg draped across his hips, Maggie felt something she’d never felt before.

  Possessiveness.

  She knew she had no right to feel that way or think of Nick that way, but she didn’t care. He had awakened something in her that night in Vegas, something that was buried so deep she’d had no idea it existed. And she wanted those glorious feelings to continue.

  It was somewhere around two in the morning and her mind was playing tricks on her. It whispered that Nick was all hers, her lover. It murmured that the curse had lifted and that he would be safe and so would her heart if she asked for what she wanted. And she wasn’t going to argue with those deluded, comforting voices right now as she lay naked beside the man she was so desperately in love with.

  “We could really use that fan right about now.” Nick’s amused tone broke through her musings.

  “You mean before we both melt into the mattress?”

  He pulled her leg closer around him and chuckled. “I can’t believe you were going to take the fan out of this room.”

  “It’s my fan, Nick.”

  He glanced at her, attempting to look crushed. “But I’m your guest.”

  “You’re my roommate,” she corrected with a grin.

  In a flash he lifted her on top of him again. “Oh, I’m so much more than that.”

  Feeling him hard beneath her again thrilled her to her toes, but she tried to look unimpressed. “Maybe.”

  “You better take that back,” he warned, his eyes narrowed but full of humor.

  She lifted her chin. “Or?”

  “Or I’ll just have to prey on your weaknesses.”

  “I’d like to see you try.”

  “Would you now?” His hands drifted to her waist and squeezed lightly.

  She yelped and broke out into a peal of laughter. “Not the tickle torture, please, not the tickle torture.”

  “Are you going to take back what you said?” he asked his fingers now poised above her kneecaps.

  She couldn’t stop laughing. “Oka
y, okay. I take it back. You’re more than a roommate. Way more.”

  His hands stilled and he looked at her closely. She knew what she’d said and how it sounded, but it was the truth and they both knew it.

  But all thoughts, all realities were lost as he suddenly gathered her in his arms and kissed her tenderly.

  He released her just as easily, but it was too late. She’d felt it—whatever it was that had passed between them. Something strange but wonderful, like souls connecting. Her heart had conjured the thought, her mind quickly brushed it aside.

  “It’s roasting in here,” she said, moving off his lap and away from the worrisome thought of tugging off the only thing she wore. Her locket. “I’ll plug in the fan.”

  He grinned like the devil. “I’ll watch.”

  Maggie grinned back as she snatched up the bed sheet and wrapped it around herself. “This isn’t a peep show, buddy,” she said as she placed the fan on the dresser, accidentally brushing a few things off as she did.

  “Shoot.” She bent to retrieve them, coming back with a few business cards. Her gaze caught and she held the one on top to the light coming from the hallway. “What’s this?”

  “Looks like a business card.”

  She read slowly and aloud. “Anthony Kaplan. 605 Dunhill Road. Santa Flora, CA. And there’s a local phone number, too.” She glanced up at him. “Who is this?”

  “That would be my father.”

  “He lives here? You have family here?”

  He nodded.

  Oh, no, he didn’t. “I can’t believe you, Nick Kaplan.” She put one hand on her hip in mock exasperation. “You said you had nowhere to stay in this town.”

  He leaned back against the headboard, crossed his arms over his chest and sighed, his playful side tucked away for a moment. “I don’t consider my family’s home to be a place to stay. My dad and I speak maybe a couple times a year. We don’t have much of a relationship.”

  Maggie should’ve felt irritated that he hadn’t told her he had family here when they’d discussed housing options that first day in her office. But she couldn’t rouse any response but happiness. Never in her life had she felt such blissful happiness. She was beyond glad that he was staying with her, that he’d come with her to Las Vegas and was here now, a naked and very sexy bad boy in her old bed.

  But she did feel curious about his past and his obviously bitter feelings about his father.

  She sat beside him on the bed and was as tactful as possible. “If you don’t mind my asking, why don’t you and your father have a relationship?”

  He hesitated, then shrugged. “Let’s just say that I could never please him—never do enough to make him proud. My sister claims that he’s changed, hell, he claims that he’s changed, and maybe I can hear that a little when I talk to him on the phone. But I don’t know if I…” He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about him right now.” He took her hand and kissed the palm. “The truth is, Montana Eyes, I wanted to live here. With you.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Somehow I just knew there’d be some great perks.”

  Her heart warmed at his pretty words and his nickname for her. She left the previous subject alone and feigned annoyance. “You know, I really should punish you for that little fib.”

  “Well, who’s stopping ya?”

  She grinned.

  He stretched out on the bed. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

  Erotic thoughts filled her mind, but they couldn’t override the wants of her heart. “What I want is two more days with you.” There she’d said it. All she could say. Because as it was with her mother and grandma, if she dared to utter the words, “I love you,” the curse could come on full force.

  His brow lifted. “No dates for forty-eight hours?”

  No dates forever, she wanted to say. But this would have to be enough, she thought, even as something inside her warned her that it wouldn’t be. Because it hadn’t the last time they’d tried to have two days together.

  “No dates for forty-eight hours,” she repeated, moving toward him.

  He had her on her back in seconds, his expression untamed. “I like your punishments.”

  She grinned. “So after work tomorrow, you’re all mine.”

  A shadow passed over his eyes. “I have to go to dinner at my family’s house. My sister roped me into it.” Then, just as quickly it cleared, and he kissed her mouth lightly. “You’ll just have to go with me.”

  After what he’d told her, a peek inside the mind and heart of Nick Kaplan would be very interesting. “I’m game,” she said as she ran her hands up his muscled back. “And after dinner?”

  He grinned. “We’ll come back here and have dessert.”

  Nick’s family’s “house” was no house at all. Not by a long shot. It was a sprawling mansion with grounds and a solarium and a full staff.

  And an exquisite dining room, Maggie mused, taking mental inventory as she sat down to dinner with Nick and his family.

  The oblong space jutted out from the rest of the house, seemingly suspended over the lush backyard, which boasted a verdant forest with stone paths running through it. From her vantage point, it looked like something Hansel and Gretel had skipped through on their way to find the candy house.

  Floor-to-ceiling windows made up both walls. And in front of each of those, bronze statues stood on pillars made of white marble. At the very end of the room—which was the closest you could get to the magical woodland outside—was a little stage with a beautiful white grand piano set just off center.

  It was a wonderful place. Not the least bit ostentatious, especially for a house of its size. In fact, it was welcoming. Just as the family was, she mused as the housekeeper placed several wonderful smelling dishes on the candlelit table.

  “I think Maggie’s Matches sounds like the best thing to happen to this sleepy little town in quite some time.”

  Maggie glanced up and smiled warmly at Nick’s father. “Thank you, sir.”

  “None of that, now.” He clucked his tongue. “My father was ‘sir.’ I’m just Anthony.”

  It wasn’t the first time that Maggie had felt confused since they’d arrived. The way Nick had described his father, she’d expected something along the lines of Ebenezer Scrooge. She could sense some tension between them and Nick was quieter than usual, but it was nowhere close to the animosity she’d expected.

  Anthony Kaplan was imposing, she’d give him that, but he was also charming and sweet. And very handsome. He had a full head of gray hair and a clipped beard, dark blue eyes and wide shoulders. At a few inches past six feet, he commanded a room, much the way his son did, with quiet strength.

  She’d liked him at once.

  And Nick’s sister, too. Anne was exactly like Nick had described her on the ride over. Beautiful, clever and very feisty. It had only taken five minutes for Maggie to feel as though she’d made a friend of her. They had laughed uproariously when Anne had filled Maggie in on the details of seeing Nick fall to the ground in the mall’s men’s store a week earlier.

  Maggie hadn’t said a word about why she and Nick had really been there. That bit of information would be up to him to share.

  But Nick didn’t feel capable of sharing much of anything at that moment. He was too busy being completely mystified by the change in his father. His sister had been right. The man seemed almost peaceful now, content. Sure, he and his father had spoken on the phone from time to time, but the changes had seemed small. Nick really hadn’t wanted to give the “transformation” much credence, but he sure couldn’t ignore it tonight.

  He also couldn’t ignore the fact that he was having a good time. It seemed that after the initial discomfort he and his father had shared when Nick and Maggie had arrived, they’d both seemed to let go and just relax—entering into some silent pact for tonight.

  “Do you think you could find me a good man, Maggie?” Anne asked, taking a sip of wine.

  Maggie smiled and nodded. “Absolutely.”

 
“You’re too young to date,” Nick told his sister, eyes twinkling.

  Anne snorted. “I’m twenty-four.”

  “Yep, way too young.” He popped a piece of steak into his mouth for emphasis.

  His sister grumbled to her father as the housekeeper poured more wine.

  Maggie nudged him with her elbow and whispered, “You do know that I’m twenty-five, right?”

  He leaned over and whispered back, “You’re an altogether different story.”

  Nick couldn’t help but breathe Maggie in. Her scent captivated his senses—a combination of roses and vanilla. She also looked stunning in a simple black dress with simple black heels and her hair loose about her shoulders. Simple had never been his thing, but it looked good on her—incredibly sexy on her.

  “I’ve heard some wonderful stories from friends about matchmaking services,” Anne remarked. “My roommate went on a couple of really great dates when she signed up at one near our school.”

  “That’s not how Maggie works.” Nick shook his head. “She doesn’t just find dates for people.”

  “Oh, really?” Anne said, running a hand through her long, blond hair. “What does she do then, Mr. Smarty-pants?”

  He shrugged and said matter-of-factly, “She finds them the love of their life, their soul mate.”

  Everyone froze, forks at different angles of ascent as they stared at him. How such a defense had come out of his mouth was anybody’s guess. Hell, why didn’t he just paint a sign that said I’m Really Gone On This Woman and hang it around his neck?

  His father’s gaze shifted between his son and Maggie. Then he grinned and went back to his garlic mashed potatoes. “Do you think I might still be able to find a soul mate at my age, Maggie?”

  “I think you’ll just squeak by,” she said with a pretty smile. “You just turned thirty, right?”

  His father laughed, and Nick shook his head. He sure had to give it to her. She had a way about her and a way with people. She was genuine and natural, charming his father, his sister—not to mention him the first day he’d met her.