Time Heals Everything

by Linda Swain

  Nick had never seen his mother again.

  It wasn’t as if Oliver had been some do-gooder. Sharp and wily, the old man showed him the ins and outs of running a bar, how to spot a fake bill. And most importantly, he’d taught Nick how to handle a rough customer without it dissolving into a physical encounter.

  It was then that he had met Tim. A scruffy man barely younger than Nick, the kid was taking on three to one and getting the worse of it. Still the scrappy kid had gotten a few licks in himself and after Nick settled the odds, he took Tim back. And he stayed. When the old man had died, Nick found himself the new owner of a seedy bar with a lot of potential, and very little money for the needed repairs. But he had found the money. Sometimes with his fists, by running guns past the law and more than once taking the profits from a fool who thought to take the merchandise and the money, at the cost of Nick’s life. He and Tim had worked and slowly built the club into what it was today.

  But all that was in the past. And his future didn’t look much better. As he walked up the pretty path lined with flowers, his thoughts drifting back to Kat and Ashton as he’d last seen them that evening. Isn’t that what you want for her? You know that deep down; she’s too classy a broad for the likes of you. She’s better off with someone like her . . . like he is. And besides, you don’t need someone tying you down, no matter how classy she is. So, this works out better for both of you. Now get in there and start . . .

  When the door swung open, Nick paused. Something wasn’t quite right. From somewhere up the stairs, a light peeked out into the shadowy darkness that hid the high ceilings and scattered over the parquet floors. A light that shouldn’t be there. Carefully climbing the stairs, he reached inside for the pistol he carried under his jacket.

  He was certain that Kat would never leave an upstairs light beaming. If she did leave one on, it was always in the kitchen in case either wanted a late night snack. And where’s the mutt? He usually raises holy hell when one of us comes in; this place is as quiet as a tomb. Step by step, he crossed the broad expansion of the hall that led to their bedroom, his face a grim mask as he slowly nudged open the bedroom door.

  “I hope that safety’s on. I’d hate to die in my own bedroom.”

  Stunned, Nick simply stared silently as Kat uncurled herself from the sofa that separated the small sitting room from their bedroom. Swallowing hard as she moved to her feet, he focused his vision on the silly fluffy balls that adorned the toes of her slippers. The sound of her silk wrapper rushed in his ears, drowning his thoughts as he placed the pistol on a small table near the door. “I never snapped it off,” he grunted. “Usually the sight of it is enough.”

  At the sight of her smile, the words that had been pounding in his head and heart, stuck in his throat. He could have killed her. The grit of the streets never quite left a man like him, no matter how he cleaned up. It was only by luck that he hadn’t opened fire first and asked questions later.

  Looking at his impassive face, Kat let out a soft sigh as she returned to her seat. Buddy, who briefly wagged his tail in greeting, didn’t come to shower Nick with his usual enthusiasm.

  “Nice to see you, Nick.”

  Wincing at her cool tone, he shrugged a reply. “It’s just damn lucky you weren’t shot, you know.”

  “Yes, so I gather,” she replied in a voice as flat as his.

  He forced himself to look at her: his woman, the only one he wanted, the only one he would ever want. He drank in the lovely lines of her face and the way her hair framed her cheeks.

  Now, as she stared back at him, her face shiny without an ounce of make-up, he wanted her more than he wanted to breathe. Yet, the two of them were muttering stilted phrases as if they were strangers.

  Swiftly crossing the room, he snatched the robed from her, his lips leaving a hot trail as they traced down her silken skin. Groaning as he inhaled her scent, his eyes closed as her hands shoved under his shirt, tracing circles around his furred chest. He held her close, memorizing the scent and the way she felt in his arms. God, how he wanted her. How she completed him.

  He felt that instant of surrender, as her body pressed against his, while her lips trembled and then looked for more of what he could give. The hunger sliced through him like a knife, cutting the civilized from the desperate, and leaving him quivering.

  With one violent swipe, he tore the remainder of her gown to shreds. Her gasp was muffled against his mouth. Even as they tumbled onto the bed, his hands were everywhere, teasing and stroking, taking and tormenting.

  In return, she dragged at his shirt, popping buttons and tearing at seams as they rolled over the sheets. When she felt his flesh against hers, she let out a long sigh of approval.

  His eyes stayed on hers as his hands moved everywhere. She sensed the raw need that was within him, the desire that he barely kept leashed. But then her mouth drove his mind right to the edge of reason. Demanding and possessive, it drove from him every nuance of emotion. She felt her will being passed to him like a gift.

  He felt her strangled gasp against his ear, the sudden convulsive dig of her nails in his back as her body shuddered from the pleasure that he gave her.

  As her arms encircled, he drove himself inside her.

  It was only much later that he realized they had forgotten the diaphragm he had insisted on using – and had even grown skilled at inserting during their teasing games – every time since the first meeting of their bodies two years prior.

  He lay there, holding her as he had so many times in the past, her head comfortably on his shoulder. She was so warm and trusting . . . and now it was time to break it off and break her heart in the process.

  Moving from the warmth of her body, he looked down at her, his eyes growing cold. “Well, at least I’ve left you something to compare that Frenchman with.”

  Her eyes widened with shock as she sat, clutching a sheet about her. “You can’t . . . you can’t think that I . . .” She paused, disbelief in her green eyes. “You can’t believe that I slept with him and then came home to you.”

  “No,” he answered as he jerked on his pants before searching for his shirt. “You’re too classy a dame to do that.” Jerking on the shirt, he ignored the missing buttons. “Look, it’s been a great ride, and we’ve lasted even longer than I thought that we would. But it’s time to call it a day.” He stared at her, ignoring the wrenching pain in his heart. “Let’s face it; I’ll never give you anything more than what we just had. Sooner or later, we’re going to tear each other to pieces. You’ve been on edge ever since the Feds raided the place.”

  “So what was this?” She waved her hand over the tumbled sheets, still warm with his body. “A once more for old time’s sake?”

  He wanted to deny it; the words were on his tongue. Instead, with a shrug, he moved to their closet, pulling out an old, battered suitcase. “Think what you want, I’m moving back to the club.”

  Ignoring her as she buried her face in her hands, he began throwing clothes haphazardly into the case. When he returned from the bath with his shaving equipment, the shock on her face tore at his gut and he snapped at the sight. “Look, it’s not as if we still won’t see each other. My telephone number hasn’t changed.” With an effort that cost him more than she could ever know, he shoved the last of his things into the bag. “We’ll still see each other every night. Let’s end this while there is still a bit of dignity. And who knows, maybe we’ll still get together - for old time’s sake.”

  “Never,” she hissed, sliding from the bed, her body quivering with rage. "Go ahead and walk out that door. Ash wants me – and for more than just an ‘arrangement’. He’ll marry me – you just wait!”

  Shutting the lid to his case, he shrugged on his coat, swiftly pocketing the abandoned pistol before tilting on his hat. “Well, kiddo, I guess that’s up to you. Whatever makes you happy. I’ll be seeing you around.” He tipped his hat to her as though he had been – and still was - just the passing acquaintance she had met in the bar on
a hot summer’s day while chasing her scruffy little dog.

  As his footsteps faded down the hall, her body jerked at the sound of the door closing. From a window, she watched as his car moved slowly down the drive. “I’ll get over you,” she hissed. “I swear, you’ll never make me cry again.”

  With determination, Kat did as well as she could at that task. She took time away from the club after that fateful night. During that time, she allowed Ashton to slowly enter her life, beginning to try and assuage the pain that blackened her heart.

  It was almost a month before she saw Nick again, and even then, it was at her request.

  Lightly, he set down the receiver, a sharp smile biting into the haggard planes of his face. She wants a meeting with me, huh? She’s avoided me like the plague for a month. I wonder what in the hell she wants. I guess I’ll find out.

  Moving away from his office, Nick stood watching at the front windows of the club as if he expected her to come sweeping in, just as she had so many times before. It wasn’t until he had given up his vigil, going back to the bar to find distraction in his newspaper that she breezed in.

  “Hello, Nick.”

  She drifted into the club, a long hat sweeping over her eyes; her smart suit, the color of blueberries whispered soft and wicked secrets as her heels sounded softly on the wooden floor. Raising his head, he took in her appearance, uttering a low wolf-whistle. Smiling as she slid into a seat at the bar, her eyes gazed flirtatiously under the brim of her hat. Crossing one leg, she gave Tim a smile as he slid a Mimosa toward her hand.

  That must have been some vacation, Nick thought. It hadn’t been any cakewalk for him, though, and his appearance gave evidence of the long nights he’d spent worrying over her. His suspenders held up pants that told of the weight he’d lost, while his watch hung loosely under his rolled sleeves. It had been as if she had disappeared from the face of the earth, leaving him worried sick. Now she came waltzing in as though she had never left.

  “I assume,” she began softly, sipping her drink, “that from your reaction, you approve? A long way from the trousers you used to hate.” Charmingly, she titled one brow, smiling at him over the expanse of the bar between them.

  The hint of amusement in her voice reminded her of the layer of cool class that Ashton wore. He’s rubbing off on her already. Soon she’s going to be spouting French at me. “I always said that you were a looker.” His blue eyes met hers as calmly as ever, belying the sudden lurch in his stomach from just being near her. He had missed her, but never in a thousand years would he admit that. Glancing back at his newspaper, he gazed at the headlines. “I see that your boyfriend got out of France just in time. It’s getting pretty nasty over there now that the Germans have taken over Paris.” Seeing the shadows in her eyes, he changed the topic. “So what brings you down in the middle of the afternoon? There was a time when you would still be asleep about now. Are you finally coming back to work?”

  “Not exactly.” She paused, but he knew it wasn’t from nervousness.

  Sipping his coffee, a brow lifted. “Then what exactly what has you gracing us with your presence?”

  “I’ve come to buy out my contract. That exclusive clause made sense at the time but now … things have changed.” She met his eyes squarely and didn’t flinch.

  If she had been waiting for some reaction from him, she would be waiting a very long time. Nick had been waiting for this day to come, and what did it matter if it was now or a year from now? “Oh? Did you get a better offer? A different club?” Cool, calm, and steady, his voice betrayed nothing of the anger boiling under his skin.

  “You might say that,” she replied carefully. “Ash has asked me to marry him.”

  Whatever else she would have said was drowned by the startling crash of glasses falling to the floor as a tray in Tim’s hands fell tumbling to the floor. Blushing fiercely under Nick’s glare, Tim fled while Kat’s laughter bubbled through the room. “Still as subtle as ever, I see.” Slowly she removed her gloves, placing them carefully on her lap.

  “Yeah, well, at least he’s loyal.” Nick shot back, deciding conveniently to forget that he had been the one to end their relationship. He slid his gaze once more to his newspaper. “So, you want out of your contract, do you? The Count doesn’t like the idea of his girl working in some two-bit dive. Well . . .” He paused, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her. “Too damned bad. The answer is no, not now, not ever.” Slamming to his feet, he was no longer a picture of calm as his chair went careening out of control, before he stalked over to where Kat sat. His fingers lifted her face roughly, scowling as he noticed the lines of exhaustion at the corners of her eyes. “For someone who was supposed to be on vacation, you look like hell. Doesn’t he ever let you sleep?”

  As she blushed, Kat looked down at the blue diamond that now graced her left hand, trying to give her a place to rest her gaze that wasn’t on the fierce contours of the face that she missed so much. It wasn’t Ash’s name that came to her mind, but Nick’s. It wasn’t Ash’s face that haunted her, but Nick’s. And now, here she was, back in the club as if she had never left.

  The club… the club will always come first. He doesn’t want any part of me, but he won’t let me go. He doesn’t love me as I love him, so why won’t he just let me go? Why won’t he let me make a clean break of things, so I can begin to forget? As long as I’m here, I’ll always remember what was and wonder what might have been. She glanced up, only now noting the deep, weary lines around his eyes and the dark circles that marred his features. He’s paler than I remember – and thinner, too. He looks like he’s lost something … Well, I know it’s not me, she sighed sadly. It’ll never be me.

  Looking down at the ring that glistened on her hand, he gave another soft whistle. “Well, at least you don’t come cheap. But this is fast . . . almost too damn fast.” He broke off, his blue eyes filling with suspicion. “Say, you’re not . . .” He didn’t know what he would do if she gave the wrong answer and was actually carrying that bastard’s brat in her belly. Not that it would be any business of his. But he had to know.

  Kat’s face closed in disgust; it was still so easy for her to read him. “No,” she snapped, peevishly. “I’m not having a baby. Ash wants to do things properly and wait until after we’re married.” Dropping her head, she ignored the small voice that told her she was about to make a huge mistake. “Please Nick… when you left, you said something about leaving us some dignity…” Her words stuck in her throat as she saw the implacable look on his face.

  “Yeah, well what would I know? I’m just a simple saloon keeper,” he said, his face fierce and dangerous. “What would I know about dignity? The answer is still no.” Moving back behind the bar, he kicked viciously at a case of liquor that was in his way. “As a matter of fact, I think you should begin back here . . . tonight,” he added, meeting her shaken look with a hard expression. “And don’t even think of trying to get out of your contract. As I recall, you were the one that insisted that we see an attorney and make everything pat and legal. If you’re not here tonight, I’ll keep you in litigation until hell freezes over.”

  He paused as he watched Ash move into the room, his face becoming impassive as the Frenchman’s eyes met his. Wrapping an arm about Kat’s shoulders, Ash pressed a tender kiss to her cheek. As he watched, Nick ran through a gamut of emotions; he was furious for reasons even he didn’t understand, and before he could comprehend the long and short of his anger, it was gone, replaced with the deepest, most cutting pain he had ever known. A bullet through his heart would have been less painful. Jealousy followed closely on the heels of that agonizing despair as he watched the seemingly perfect couple. But he knew that he had to face the music.

  He knew that Ashton could give Kat everything that he couldn’t. The man possessed a title and was undoubtedly on first name basis with all the important people in Hollywood. People who were influential enough to help Kat in ways beyond the meager scope of his connections.

 
Ashton had opened his heart to Kat despite his high station in life, and could give her the family she had always wanted. In contrast, what could Nick, a man from the streets, someone who had to fight to rise in the ranks of the world by using every dirty trick in the book, offer her? She was worth everything that the Frenchman had, and more. She deserved to be known to the world as something more than a saloonkeeper’s girl, no matter how beautiful her voice was.

  And yet, Nick thought, there’s something about this guy I don’t like. Something that even all the money in the world can’t hide.

  Wrapping his arms around Kat’s slender waist, Ash’s expensive suit contrasted sharply with the dark surroundings of the club. His voice, smooth and soothing whispered in Kat’s ears, loud enough to ensure Nick heard every word. “Do not fret, my love,” he purred, drawing her from the barstool. “If Monsieur Nicholas wishes you to honor your agreement, then you shall.”

  It was obvious that Ashton had stood in the shadows, listening for some time to what should have been a private conversation. There was something in Ashton’s voice that told Nick to pay very close attention to what was said. “Perhaps your talent and my name will add certain sophistication to this establishment, something that I believe it could badly need. But come.” He paused to smile down at her. “We have much to do before your return tonight. Perhaps a new gown to go with your ring? After all, this is a special occasion. It is your birthday, ma belle, and I intend to spoil you mercilessly.”

  Lifting her chin, Kat blinked away her tears, shooting Nick a look full of such heartbreak and betrayal that the memory of it would follow him the rest of his days. He had not only refused her dignity in the ending of her relationship, but he had forgotten her birthday as well.

  As her eyes met his, she realized how much of her love had been wasted on Nick. All the beautiful gowns, the exposure, and the money that he had so freely spent over the years – all of it had been for his gain, not hers. She had been his little songbird, and nothing more.