And having him here, in my tiny apartment, made all those feelings come back.
“I think about that night a lot,” he said quietly, leaning forward as he cupped his coffee cup in both hands. “I meant to apologize to you, but the next day…it just seemed inappropriate to do it as the doctor was inserting the embryos into…” He gestured toward me, a little color making his naturally dark skin look even darker. “And then you disappeared.”
“Aurora died.”
He nodded, his eyes dropping to his mug. “Yeah. That was a shock to a lot of people.”
“But not you?”
Something about the way he said it made me wonder about the rumors that floated around in the weeks after her death that Nicolas had something to do with it. A lot of Aurora’s fans suggested that Nicolas had someone slip drugs into her food that night—as it clearly and unequivocally was proven by the autopsy that Aurora died of a cocaine overdose. But then a slice of pain rushed across his face, and I knew instinctively that he would never do such a thing.
“I knew my wife better than almost anyone. And I knew that she was a brilliant actress who showed the world a façade that covered secrets no one could ever imagine.”
“Like drug use.”
“Like the fact that the night she died was not the first time she overdosed on some sort of drug.”
That surprised me. I hadn’t known Aurora long, or very well, but she always seemed like a strong, confident woman. I curled up against the arm of the couch and tried to remember something, anything, in my encounters with her that would suggest she was a woman in the throes of a bad drug habit. But I couldn’t think of a single one.
Nicolas stood, setting his coffee—which was empty once more—on a low table and crossed to the windows. He turned away from me and stared outside. I had a sudden hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. I thought for a moment I might be sick. He must have glanced at me…I don’t know. I was clutching my middle, trying to fight the unpleasant waves rushing through my stomach. And then he was beside me, his hand between my shoulder blades. I looked at him and felt my heart skip a beat.
“The last time I touched Aurora was more than a year ago.”
I stared at him, not sure what it was he was trying to tell me.
“But you were trying to have a baby. She told me. She said you wanted a child, that you thought it would complete your family. But she couldn’t carry one because of a heart defect or something.”
“There was no heart defect. She just didn’t want to ruin her perfect figure.”
Again, I tried to reconcile what he’d just said—words that were wrapped in so much bitterness that my tongue stung from the taste—with the woman I’d met. But I couldn’t. Aurora was so gentle and kind. I’d wanted to hug her every time I saw her because of the sadness that seemed to linger in her eyes.
“What happened? I mean, between the two of you. You were only married for five years when she died.”
He sighed and leaned back against the couch. “Aurora was the biggest mistake of my life.” He shook his head, as his eyes landed on my face again, practically begging me to believe him. “She changed almost as soon as we got home from our honeymoon. She wasn’t the sweet ingénue I met on the set of Paper Men. She was controlling, demanding. She used everything from sex to threats to attempts on her own life to get me to do what she wanted.”
“Why didn’t you divorce her?”
“I had no idea what she might do if I did. She was unstable.” He shifted, clearly agitated. “And it would have ruined her career. I couldn’t take responsibility for that.”
There was something that felt hollow about his last words. A memory of Aurora laughing as we talked about my students filled my thoughts for a moment. How could a woman who could appreciate the unpredictability of children be the same woman he was describing? It just didn’t make sense.
He raked his fingers through his hair again, his next words coming out on a deep sigh. “I asked her for a divorce, three years ago, and she tried to commit suicide.”
“But…what happened between you two? You were Hollywood’s most romantic couple.” There’d been dozens of magazine articles on them from the time they were dating until a few weeks before her death, and a piece the E! channel did that my mom and I stayed up late one night to watch. They seemed so perfect together, as though they were one of those rare Hollywood couples that actually functioned well together.
He laughed bitterly. “She began cheating on me right from the start. I caught her bed with the chauffer once. And then I came home early from a trip to Hawaii to scout locations and found her snorting cocaine off of a glass hors d'oeuvre plate we’d gotten as a gift for our wedding. I tried to get her into rehab. I even called her mother. I watched as she begged Aurora to do something about her addiction, but even she couldn’t get through to her. Aurora wasn’t interested in being clean. She only wanted what she wanted.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “But, I don’t get it. How come the media never got wind of this?”
He shot me a look filled with indignation. “I’m Nicolas Costa.”
“Yeah, sure, that explains everything.”
“Sarcasm does not become you, and yeah, it should explain everything. The paparazzi knows better than to trifle with me.”
I raised my eyebrows to show him just what I thought of his arrogance but, inside, I was shaking. Nicolas had a reputation for being a ruthless man. And I wasn’t sure where I stood with this man. Why was he here? What did he want from me? I wrapped my arms around my chest, resting them on the top of my bulging belly. It was almost big enough to serve as a perfect shelf for arms, glasses, almost anything I wanted to sit on it. And the peanut inside…she’d be here in less than five months. What would happen then?
“Why are you here, Nicolas,” I asked, my voice not betraying the roiling emotions inside of me this time.
He studied my face for a long moment, then his eyes fell again to my belly.
“It wasn’t Aurora who wanted the baby,” he said softly. “I don’t know how much you know about me, but I came from a large Greek family. My father was a garbage truck driver, my mother a nurse. They worked themselves to death trying to provide for me and my seven brothers and sisters. I always imagined I would have a large family, too.”
He tilted his head, something like clouds moving across his eyes as a soft smile lifted the corners of his full mouth. “All my brothers and sisters have children now. I love being an uncle. Yet, the idea of holding a baby that’s mine, that’s part of my body, my soul, is the ultimate goal. Everything I’ve achieved in my career, in my life, pales in comparison. I almost couldn’t believe it when Aurora finally agreed to the idea. I think it was because all her friends were having kids and she felt left out or something…I don’t know. I never understood what motivated Aurora. But whatever it was…” He looked at me, his hand coming close—but not touching—my belly. “I finally have that one thing that I couldn’t achieve on my own. And I’m not giving it up.”
“But this is Aurora’s baby,” I said, grasping at the only straw I could see. “Do you really want a piece of her in your life for the rest of your life?”
I thought he might get angry, but he only looked pensive for a moment. “That crossed my mind,” he finally said. “But Aurora was a kind, gentle person before the drugs changed her. I think her child will be just as kind and gentle. Especially with the right guidance.”
“Your guidance?”
He nodded. “Believe me, Ana, I’m well-prepared to be a father to this child.”
“But what if I can’t give her up?”
He simply shook his head. “You have no choice. You signed a contract.”
Chapter 5
I burst into tears and Nicolas took me in his arms. He seemed to understand even though I wasn’t sure I did. I pressed my face against his shoulder and cried as though I hadn’t cried in a lifetime, holding on to him as a damn broke and all the tears and sobs I�
��d held in since leaving California unleashed themselves on his linen shirt. I cried for my mom, for him and Aurora, for the poor, innocent little baby that was caught in the middle of this ridiculous triangle. And I cried for myself. Nicolas simply held me until the tears slowly subsided.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled as I straightened up, wiping my face with a corner of my t-shirt. “It’s all the hormones and stuff.”
“A good cry helps,” he said with a shrug.
“Yeah right, like you cry about anything.”
A wry smile touched a corner of his lips as he leaned back against the chair.
“Sometimes I wish I could.”
Our eyes met, and a brief something passed between us. It was not like the fire of that one, long ago encounter, but there was something there, and it was tinged with heat.
“Your mom…she was ill?”
“Cancer.”
He nodded. “My dad, too. It started in his pancreas, but it moved quickly to his liver. He was gone less than two months after they first found it.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, still rubbing at my cheeks.
He shrugged. “It was almost ten years ago. But it still hurts, sometimes.”
“That’s comforting.”
His eyes filled with compassion, and my tears were suddenly close to the surface again. I blinked hard to make them go away.
He cupped my face and stared into my eyes, like he was searching for something. “This baby means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”
I nodded, unsuccessful in making the tears disappear. A few slipped out of my eyes, wetting his fingers. It was so strange being this close to him. There was that sense of being close to someone I knew well, someone I could trust with every deep dark secret I ever had or would have. I had to remind myself that I barely knew this man and the few times we had met, he was distant and then…not distant enough. And my body, it seemed only too willing to defect, to embrace a physical touch that would only cause unrepairable damage to my emotional sanity.
I shut my eyes and tried to will away the desire that was building so deep in my soul that it was quickly becoming an itch I would never be able to scratch, but that only made it worse. My only thought was: What would it be like to feel his hands all over my body? I quickly opened my eyes again. I couldn’t go there. It simply made no logical sense.
“She means everything to me,” I said, refocusing on the question at hand.
“She?”
“The baby. I always call her she. I’m not sure why.”
“You want a girl.”
“I would be happy either way, as long as she’s healthy.”
The truth was, though, that when I dreamt at night—I had the most vivid dreams ever since my pregnancy entered the second trimester—it was always a girl. A boy would be great, too, but I just felt like it was a girl. A little girl I could dress up and whose hair I could curl…I loved her so much already and she didn’t even have functioning lungs yet.
“Why did you run? Was it your plan to run off with the baby all along?”
I stared at him, shock making my heart pound so hard that my chest actually hurt for a second. I pulled away from him and stood.
“I think you should go,” I said.
“You have to understand that that would be my first assumption when I learned you were pregnant.”
He sounded so reasonable that I had to stop and remind myself that he’d just accused me of fraud. I stood at the kitchen counter, my hand resting there as I tried to regain my emotional equilibrium.
“Ana…”
“My mother had just died. And then Aurora died like ten days later. The last thing on my mind was the surrogacy and everything that went along with it.”
“But you found out at some point that the procedure had worked.”
“Yes.” I glanced at him. He was still on the couch, watching me with both curiosity and concern. “But it didn’t seem to matter anymore. Aurora was gone and you never gave me the impression you were all that interested in this baby.”
“Oh, but I am.” He stood up and approached me, his hands held out in front of him as though he was trying to show he meant no harm. “I just couldn’t let Aurora know how much it meant to me. She might have changed her mind, or taken off with you and the baby.”
“You really were afraid of her, weren’t you?”
A flash of anger crossed his face at that. “Not afraid. Just…aware.”
I leaned back against the counter, not sure I could trust my judgment any more. He seemed so sincere in everything he’d said tonight. Yet, he seemed to blaming everything on Aurora—and that confused me. Could I really trust him? Could I believe what he was saying about Aurora even though it went against everything I’d seen and experienced in the time leading up to this child’s conception? And what about those kisses we’d shared when he was married to Aurora? What kind of man did that make him? What kind of woman did that make me?
His expression softened as he approached me. I saw things in his eyes that made me want to trust him, things I thought were sincere. But did I know him well enough to know that?
“You scare me,” I said softly.
His gaze didn’t move, his eyes studying mine so intently I felt like he could see everything going on inside my head.
“You scare me, too,” he admitted.
“You don’t strike me as someone who’s scared of anything.”
He laughed softly. “You scare me. I’ve never wanted a woman as intensely as I want you.” He moved closer to me, but still he didn’t touch me. “And I want this.” He held his hand just an inch from my belly.
“You’re used to having your way.”
“I’m a determined fellow.”
“Arrogant.”
“I like things to be orderly.”
“Bossy.”
“And I love how you taste.”
I had nothing to say to that, so I just stared at him. I felt suddenly parched and ran my tongue over my lips to moisten them. He made a sound, and I froze.
“You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” he said in a raspy voice.
He reached out to caress my face, and I saw his hands tremble slightly. For me? He was trembling for me? The thought blew my mind and, apparently, it blew all common sense from my logical side, my heart, and my soul. I stepped toward him, and we were suddenly kissing with an urgency that was as hurried as it was desperate.
I ran my hands over his broad shoulders, down his back, and then sank them into his hair, tugging him closer as he buried his tongue deep in my mouth. When I sucked gently on it, he groaned, which only made me more frantic for him. He kissed my face and along the edge of my jaw.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against my ear. “I wanted you the first moment I saw you.”
I might have returned the sentiment if I could have, but my lips were too busy exploring his, and my throat was so full of need, of pure desire, that it couldn’t give birth to a single word. I wanted to feel him. I wanted his hands all over me. I wanted things I couldn’t have put into words if I’d been capable because they were things I’d never wanted, I’d never even known I was capable of.
He slipped his hands beneath my tee and cupped my breasts. Bolts of electricity shot through me, and I began to moan and pant. When he flicked my nipple with the tip of his thumb, I cried out. He lifted my tee and I pulled it the rest of the way off of my body, giving better access to all those places that ached for his touch. I felt as though I had hot lava going through my veins. He leaned down and closed his mouth over the tip of my nipple, and I almost went off the edge. Somehow, his hand found its way beneath my skirt, and he traced a path to the edge of my panties. I felt moisture pool there, and I wanted so much more.
“Please,” I whispered.
“Patience, sweetheart,” he said, lifting his head from my breast.
“Please, Nicolas,” I begged unashamedly.
He laughed softly and then pushed his thumb against my clit. I
cried out as waves of pleasure rushed through me so quickly that my knees buckled. He immediately lifted me, carrying me to the couch where his thumb found its way back to my clit again, two of his fingers sliding deep inside of me. I was quickly spiraling out of control, so close to orgasm that I knew there was nothing I could do to stop it. And….Christ! It felt so good. I’d never had an orgasm with a man inside of me before and this…I suddenly understood what the big deal was.
“Nico…Nico…Oh God!”
“That’s right, baby. It’s Nico,” he said, as he pressed his thumb harder on my clit.
I came so hard that I lost track of where I was for a moment. His voice pulled me back, the sound of my name on his lips like honey in a warm cup of tea.
“You are so sexy. I’ve never been with anyone as responsive as you,” he said, a note of wonder in his voice.
He laid me gently against the sofa and pulled away. I wanted to protest, thinking he was abandoning me before we could complete the act he’d begun so long ago. But then he was back again, so beautiful in his nakedness. He quickly pulled my clothes from my body and lifted me onto his lap. As I straddled him, he guided his erection inside and, as I sank down on his stiff cock, I was back to that place of overwhelming desire, needing that unscratchable itch to be scratched.
He lifted me off him until the tip of his erection was at the mouth of my cunt, and then he paused.
“Open your eyes, Ana,” he commanded in a deep, rough voice.
“What?”
“Open your eyes. I want to see your eyes when I enter you.”
I opened my eyes and stared at his. It was like gazing into a dark, fathomless pool. Slowly, still keeping his eyes on mine, he brought me down until he was sheathed to the hilt. I could not take my eyes off him, and something shifted in my heart. It was the most erotic experience of my life. Unable to bear the intensity, I shut my eyes again.
JOSS: A Standalone Romance (Gray Wolf Security) Page 18