Prince Charming Undercover

by Debra Salonen

  A sudden thought struck her. “Wait a minute. If you were adopted, then your name isn’t Sarna, is it?”

  He didn’t answer at first. “No. My name is Nick Lightner. Sarna was the name on my birth certificate. When I decided to move here, your mother thought it would easier to explain my connection to your family if I used my birth name.”

  “Lightner,” she repeated. “Nice, middle-America name. No ethnic vibes. And with your coloring, I bet no one ever suspected you of being a Gypsy.”

  Although outwardly he showed no emotion, Grace could feel his anger simmering below the surface. “My adoptive parents gave me their name—after my Romani father washed his hands of me.”

  Grace heard pain beneath the cynicism and she welcomed it. Honesty. That’s all she was asking for at the moment. “He was in jail.”

  “For three lousy months.”

  She tossed up her hands. “So who died and made you judge and jury? You’re convinced that your father was a worthless piece of dog doo who didn’t care about you. Never mind that he’d just lost the woman he loved. Never mind that he was shook up, mixed up and grieving. Alone in jail. Unable to reach you. Probably being sold a line of goods by some overzealous social worker who had an eager, upstanding middle-class family dying to adopt a little boy.”

  His mouth opened but no words came out.

  “Fathers sometimes make mistakes. They’re not perfect.” Who am I really trying to convince—Nikolai or myself?

  He cursed loudly and stood up. “Stop trying to get inside my head. You don’t know what happened. You weren’t there.”

  His words hit hard. They were true. She didn’t know what had made her father compromise his rigid code of ethics.

  “Maybe not, but I can feel for him just the same,” she said softly. Happy to let Nikolai think she meant his father, not hers.

  “Well, I can’t.”

  His response angered her. She got to her feet. “That’s it in a nutshell, isn’t it? That’s the difference between us. It’s not Mars/Venus, Gypsy/gadjo. It’s more basic than that. The fact is I feel. You don’t. Men like you ought to come with warning labels. Danger—emotional vacuum.”

  He let out a low growl, but Grace ignored it and walked past him toward her bedroom. She pulled aside the thick curtain of beads that separated her private space from the living area. Pausing, she looked over her shoulder. “I thought, for a brief moment, that we had a connection, but ask my sisters—” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “Heck, ask anyone—and they’ll all tell you I can’t pick men worth squat. Now, if you’d please leave, I’d like to—”

  He caught her arm. “Damn, you piss me off.”

  Then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Hard.

  Grace fought back for the space of one heartbeat, then she wrapped her arms around his neck and plastered herself against his warm, very male body. He might not be her ever-after man, but he was here and now. And he was offering just what she needed—a distraction.

  Chapter 16

  “Wait.” She pushed on his shoulders and he let her go. She stepped backward until she could no farther. “We can’t do this.” Her words came out in breathless huffs as if she’d run a marathon. “I can’t do this. I don’t just have sex for the sake of having sex.”

  Nick almost groaned. Her words said go, but her eyes said come.

  “Why not?” He kept his tone casual, but there was nothing casual about how he felt. He wanted her—to hell with Charles Harmon and the case. She wasn’t Charles’s patsy or cohort. She was a gorgeous, desirable woman. Forget the dozen or so reasons they shouldn’t be together.

  He closed the distance between them, which wasn’t difficult in the cramped quarters of her trailer. “We don’t have to do this, but don’t pretend you don’t want to. You don’t have to be a fortuneteller to know there’s something between us. Something hot. Significant. And from the number of cold showers I took this past week, I’d say it isn’t going away any time soon.”

  “You’ve been thinking about me?”

  “Day and night.” Nick covered her mouth with his and tasted her.

  After a few moments of mutual exploration that took his breath away, she pulled back slightly and said, “I love the way you kiss. You could give lessons.” She ran her hands across his biceps to his shoulders.

  Nick nuzzled an intriguing hollow where her neck and jaw met. A voice in his head said, Step away from the princess, but it was being drowned out by the roar of blood on its way past his conscience headed right to his groin.

  “Okay,” Grace said in a guttural whisper. “I give up. Let’s do this now, before I remember what a mistake I’m making.”

  He kissed her again. His tongue plunged deeper, tracing her teeth, the roof of her mouth and underside of her tongue. She made a slight whimpering noise and transferred some of her weight to her arms, which were resting on his shoulders.

  The angle opened the way for him to slide his hand under her white shell, which he discovered included a built-in bra. The stretchy material made it easy to pull down the elastic neckline and touch her skin. Hot and soft.

  She shimmied against his palm, inviting him to explore. His fingers raked along her rib cage to the underside of her breasts.

  She went still and opened her eyes. “This really is going to happen, isn’t it?”

  He saw her nervousness, but she didn’t flinch when his hand covered her breast and he gently squeezed. He looked down at the fullness and felt his knees tremble. He couldn’t wait to see her naked. To taste every square inch of her body, but he felt honor-bound to say, “It’s not too late to call it off if you don’t want…”

  She took his hand and pressed it to her crotch. Even through her black hip-huggers, he could feel the heat and moistness. “If I backed out now, there are parts of me that would never forgive me. Including where your hand is.”

  A pivoting motion of her hips made him think of a belly dancer. She stepped back and walked to the beaded curtain. The sparkling doorway led to a room unlike any he’d ever seen before. The vivid colors of the bejeweled pillows on the couch were replicated everywhere—walls, ceiling and curtains. Sheer pink scarves were draped over the two hanging light fixtures on either side of the wall-to-wall bed, which was covered in scarlet satin.

  “Wow.”

  The long strands of beads gave a tinkling cackle after Grace followed him in. “A little over the top, I know,” she said, shrugging one bare shoulder. “Liz says the decor panders to the stereotype people have of Gypsies. But I like it. I saw a few old reruns of I Dream of Jeannie when I was a kid and was hooked.”

  Nick looked around as he unbuttoned his shirt. He found the surroundings slightly titillating. Campy and fun. Could he sleep there every night? That would depend on the company.

  Grace leaned across the bed to close the curtains. The hue went from sunshine to mellow amber. She made a global gesture. “Welcome to my magic bottle.”

  He laid his shirt on the dresser—the only freestanding piece of furniture in the room, taking care not to topple any of the ornate frames she’d assembled. “Can you make all my wishes come true?”

  “No.” She shook her head while her gaze stayed on his chest. She licked her lips in an unconscious way that made him instantly hard. “Nobody can do that. But…” She unzipped her slacks and wiggled free of the stretchy material. “I might be able to satisfy one.”

  She held up her index finger, then put it in her mouth and slowly pulled it out. Nick swallowed hard. He clawed at his buckle in a frantic effort to get out of his pants, but Grace stepped closer and did it for him. With a flourish that would have done Zorro proud, she whipped the belt free.

  Nick undid his jeans and stepped out of them. “This isn’t going to be a hearts-and-flowers kind of thing, Grace.”

  Her hand flattened against his hard-on and she leaned into him. Her breasts brushed against his chest. “We can do it standing up for all I care. Just satisfy me. Now.”

  He s
lipped her panties over her hips. Pink lace, he acknowledged vaguely. He was more interested in the smoothness of her skin and the sculpted shape of her backside.

  The stretchy fabric of her top molded to her figure, skimming her hips. He caught the edge and tugged upward. Grace lifted her arms. The elastic inched over her breasts, then suddenly they were free and visible.

  Nick’s jaw dropped and saliva pooled in his mouth. “Grace, you’re beautiful.”

  She blushed like a virgin, but she didn’t shrink from his scrutiny. “Thank you. Now, what’s good for the gander, or some such thing.”

  He took off his shorts and faced her. He was glad for her speechless scrutiny. It gave him time to ask “Condoms?”

  “Built-in hidey-hole by the lamp.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the headboard.

  As she reached out to touch him, she ran her tongue over her bottom lip. Nick’s body reacted as any red-blooded male’s would. The point of no return was history.

  Grace sensed the instant he was committed to making love to her. Some people might have considered the end result a sure bet, but Grace didn’t take anything for granted where Nikolai was concerned. “Can we skip the foreplay and get right to the good stuff?”

  He looked shocked. Grace didn’t blame him. She wasn’t sure where she’d left her rational mind, but this new, wholly sensual side of her had taken over. “It’s been a while for me and I’m pretty much ready when you are, which by the looks of it was ten minutes ago.”

  Nikolai let out a sound, something between a growl and a groan. “You,” he said, gently pushing until the backs of her knees touched the mattress.

  She sat down, legs spread in pure wantonness. Nikolai took in her pose, his left eyebrow lowering rakishly. “You could provoke a saint. My blood feels like it’s going to shoot out the top of my head.”

  “I know a better way to blow off a little steam.”

  She leaned forward and put her lips on him. He let out a low, painful-sounding moan. “Woman, that’s torture. You’re torture. You’re not supposed to do that.”

  “I’m not?” She looked up at him.

  “You’re…a…princess.”

  The words sounded ripped from his gut.

  “You mean like a royal pain in the ass?” She grabbed his left cheek and squeezed.

  “Yeah. That, too.”

  He pulled her to her feet then switched places with her, so she was straddling his knees. He buried his face in her chest, filling his hands with her and breathing deeply.

  Grace had never made love to a man who was half-Romani. The thought made her shiver.

  Nick looked up. “Are you afraid all of a sudden?”

  Am I?

  Maybe a little. “Not really, but—”

  “Don’t worry, Grace,” Nikolai whispered in her ear. “Where we’re going will be worth the risk. Trust me.”

  She pulled back to look into eyes. A wickedly sexy grin made her inside quiver with anticipation. “Only one problem. This damn satin bedspread doesn’t give a guy any traction. Do you mind?”

  A second later, she was on her back with Nikolai poised above her. Arms stiff, he looked down at her and said, “The way my butt kept sliding, we were going to wind up on the floor.”

  She laughed. When was the last time I laughed in bed? She couldn’t remember.

  He didn’t wait for her answer. He took her the journey to a place she’d never actually seen before. Somewhere brighter and more intense than she could possible describe. “Oh, oh, oh,” she cried, becoming lost in the sensation.

  They met at the same place. He gave into the moment with a raw cry that seemed to come from the depth of his soul. Grace vaguely realized that they’d shared an emotional release neither could have predicted.

  “Sweet,” she said softly, tears slipping past her lashes. “Oh, Nick, that was nice.”

  “Nice?” he said gruffly. “Doughnuts are nice. That was freaking amazing.”

  She agreed.

  He crushed her to him and rolled so they were side-by-side in a nest of rumpled bedding. With a tenderness she didn’t expect, Nikolai swept her hair from her eyes and ran the back of his hand along her cheek. “You are breathtaking in every sense of the word.”

  She smiled. Oddly embarrassed by the flattery, but not by what they’d just done. “You’re not too shabby yourself, Mr. Sarna. I mean Lightner.”

  He closed his eyes and pushed his head into the pillow. “Not yet, Grace. Please? Let’s keep the real world at bay for a little longer.”

  She let out a sigh and curled up beside him. “Smart idea. Sex always turns my brain to mush. I swear that’s the only reason Shawn and I lasted as long as we did.”

  “Good, huh?”

  “Nothing like this, of course,” she said, truthfully, although she kept her tone light and teasing.

  “You’re wicked.”

  “I know.”

  He ran his hand up and down her back as if drawing a map. Grace closed her eyes and threaded her fingers through the small triangle of wispy chest hairs between his pecs. Most of the men in her family were wooly bears compared to him. As she idly wondered whether hirsute genes skipped a generation, a sudden thought made her let out a gasp. They’d forgotten the condom.

  “Damn.”

  “It hasn’t been a minute.”

  “Sorry, but…”

  He opened one eye.

  “Look down,” she said, pointing in the direction of his groin. “Do you see a used raincoat on that big boy?”

  He didn’t look. Instead, he muttered a low, rather appropriate expletive.

  “You’re not on the pill, I take it?”

  “No, but even if I was, what about AIDS and STDs?Pregnancy isn’t the only thing to worry about.”

  “I give blood once every couple of months. It’s a c…common thing when you’ve been in jail.” He blushed. “I’m pretty sure I’m clean.”

  She found his embarrassment endearing. “Me, too. Clean, I mean. Not the blood-donor thing. I get queasy just thinking about needles, but I was tested after I broke up with Shawn. I haven’t been with anybody since.”

  Neither spoke for a minute then Nikolai cleared his throat. “Going back to the subject of pregnancy, I’ve heard about a pill you can take after the fact.”

  Grace pushed back to gain some space. The flatness of his tone disturbed her. She stared at the ceiling to avoid seeing that other Nikolai, the one who was too much a part of the real world. “I could probably ask Liz,” she said, feeling the warmth they’d shared start to slip away. Faking a smile, she added, “At least, we’ve established that we’re not related. No potential pollution of the gene pool.”

  Nikolai’s lips didn’t flicker. He looked dead serious. “I’d expect to be told if anything came of this.”

  An edict, not a request.

  Suddenly feeling naked and exposed, she grabbed the loose end of the bedspread and hugged it to her chest. “Um…okay.”

  Neither spoke for a minute, then Nikolai let out a long, deep breath. “I didn’t mean that to sound like an order,” he said, sitting up to face her. “I’m sorry.”

  The apology pushed her over the edge. The emotional roller coaster she’d been riding crashed. Tears backed up into her sinuses. She wadded up the corner of the blanket and pressed it to her face. “I think you should go.”

  She managed to hold herself together while he dressed and kissed her goodbye, but once he closed the door, she gave in to the grief, pain and disappointment that had been dogging her all day. The lovemaking—wonderful as it had been—hadn’t changed her reality. She knew, deep inside, that her life would never be the same again. Nikolai or no Nikolai.

  Nick left Grace’s snug, sensual little haven feeling more conflicted than ever. Her scent lingered on his body and made him crave her. Despite the low note that he’d left on, Nick had never felt more complete after making love.

  He wanted to be with her. Which made him mad.

  He didn’t form s
trong attachments to people this fast. He wasn’t a love-at-first-sex kind of guy. Not that he used women then abandoned them. In the past, he’d made sure his affairs were easygoing, mutually beneficial. He went out of his way to pick women he wouldn’t fall in love with. And who wouldn’t fall in love with him.

  Never in a million years would he have chosen someone like Grace. Someone who put family first. Who led with her heart. Who couldn’t fathom a father willingly giving up his child. At least she got that right. If Grace was pregnant, Nick would be on the first plane back. Leaving your kid for someone else to raise was the kind of thing Jurek Sarna did, not Nick Lightner.

  Suddenly, Nick needed to talk to his dad. His real dad, Pete. He jumped the fence and let himself into Claude’s house to use the phone.

  When no one answered at home and Pete failed to pick up his cell phone, Nick tried the office. “Is Pete Lightner around by any chance? This is Nick Lightner calling.”

  “Hey, Nick, it’s me, Roxy,” the voice on the other end of the line said. “How’s Vegas?”

  After exchanging small talk for a few minutes, Roxy told him, “Pete isn’t here. Hasn’t been back since you left. I think your mom’s keeping him busy. I heard their house sold in like six hours.”

  Nick thanked her and hung up. Six hours? That meant they’d be leaving sooner, rather than later. And he’d be alone. Just him and his dog.

  Before today, he probably could have handled that. He wasn’t looking forward to his parents leaving, but he was an adult. He’d be okay. But, now, after making love to Grace, Detroit felt a world away and the word home had taken on new meaning.

  Chapter 17

  After he showered and changed clothes, Nick phoned Yetta’s house. No answer, although her car was parked under the carport beside Grace’s. She could be out with one of her daughters. Or at The Dancing Hippo.