"Maybe you should have argued," Nikki said. At least then she wouldn't have to worry about the possibility of falling in love with a man who'd only married her for her money. No matter how noble his intentions for that money, it still wasn't a comfortable feeling. Even now, he hadn't so much as hinted that he loved her, just that he wanted her.
"Maybe I should have," Liz agreed. "But I knew how much getting this money meant to you. And then I met Sam and I thought there might be other benefits besides just getting the money."
"You figured that because he was good-looking, we were going to fall in love and live happily ever after?"
"I figured that the two of you struck too many sparks off each other for this to remain a cold business deal. I was really hoping it might lead to something, if you'd let yourself be distracted."
Distracted? That doesn't even begin to describe the effect Sam has had. "The only thing I want it to lead to is me getting my inheritance a year from now," Nikki said firmly.
"What about Sam?"
"What about him?" Nikki toyed nervously with her silverware.
"Is he just going to walk out of your life? Disappear forever?"
The question caused a sharp pain in Nikki's chest. She swallowed hard. "That was the plan."
"But plans can change. That's what I mean by you being so focused. Sometimes I think maybe you don't look at the possibilities." Liz leaned forward, her hazel eyes intent. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if Sam turned out to be the love of your life?"
"I've only known him six weeks." Nikki's protest sounded weak, even to her own ears.
"I knew a week after we met that Bill was the only one for me."
"Not everyone has your ability to make snap judgments."
"You don't have to make a snap judgment. You've got a whole year to make up your mind." Liz poked her fork in a slivered carrot and then waved it at Nikki. "Think of how much time you could save if you and Sam stayed together. You wouldn't have to spend time dating another guy or planning another wedding."
"So you think I should try to fall in love with Sam because it's efficient?" Nikki's mouth twitched at the corners.
"It's as good a reason as any. Besides, you'll either fall in love with him or you won't. You won't have to fry to do it."
That's just what I'm afraid of, Nikki thought. She ran her thumb over her wedding band. She was very much afraid that she wouldn't have to try to fall in love with Sam at all.
It just might be happening already.
With an effort, she looked away from the ring and fixed Liz with a look that held both determination and warning. "Enough about me. Tell me what my wonderful godson has been up to lately."
To Nikki's relief, after only a momentary hesitation, Liz followed her lead and the topic of her marriage was dropped. But Liz's comments stayed with her.
She was still thinking about them a couple of hours later when she turned into the driveway and saw Sam's truck sitting in front of the house. She shut off the engine on the rental car—Barney was at Bill's garage awaiting a new fuel pump—but didn't immediately get out.
So Sam was home. She hadn't seen him since yesterday morning when they'd bumped into each other in the entry-way, both on their way to work. They'd exchanged polite greetings, but she'd been vividly aware of the way his eyes had lingered on her lips, making her mouth feel as flushed and swollen as if she'd just been thoroughly kissed.
Of course, maybe she'd imagined the look. Maybe he didn't even remember the kiss and his promise that they were only postponing the inevitable. Or had it been a threat?
Muttering under her breath, Nikki pushed open the car door and got out. Accustomed to Barney's quirks, which included cranky latches, she slammed the door too hard and the little rental car shuddered under the impact.
"Wimp." She scowled at the car. It might have air-conditioning and a heater, but it was boring. But she knew it wasn't the rental car's lack of personality that was bothering her.
With a sigh, she walked up to the house. Maybe she'd be lucky and she wouldn't even see Sam. The door had barely shut behind her when she heard him call her name.
"Nikki? Is that you?"
She briefly considered the possibility of not answering. She wasn't ready to see him. Not when her head was full of Liz's comments about letting herself fall in love with him.
"It's me," she said.
"Could you come here a minute? We're in the living room."
We? Who's we? Her curiosity stirred. Nikki shrugged out of her coat, hanging it over the newel post on her way into the living room.
Sam was standing by the fireplace, and Nikki felt her breath catch a little when she saw him. He was wearing a pair of dark blue running shorts that came perilously close to qualifying for indecent exposure. He also wore a tank top that left his arms and a good portion of his chest bare. He looked like a poster boy for the benefits of working out.
Distracted by the flagrant display of muscle, she needed a moment to get her mind on what he was saying.
"This guy broke into the house and I caught him trying to get out with that vase." He nodded to a Sevres vase that usually sat on a side table. It was now lying on its side on the sofa. "I'd have hauled him off before now, but he claims he's your brother."
"My brother?"
A slightly stout young man of medium height rose, from the wing chair where he'd been sitting and turned to face her. "Nikki, would you tell this ape who I am?" he demanded petulantly.
"Alan?" She stared at him in disbelief. She hadn't seen him since her grandfather's funeral. He'd put on at least forty pounds. Despite the extra weight, he looked smaller than she remembered. Or maybe it was just the fact that Sam loomed over him that made him look small. "I thought you were in Monte Carlo or Rio or some such place."
"So he was telling the truth?" Sam didn't trouble to conceal his disappointment.
"Of course I was telling the truth." Alan adjusted the lapels of his pale gray suit and drew his shoulders back, his soft mouth settling into a self-important little sneer. "Now you'll know what it means when I tell you that you're fired."
"It means the same thing it meant a few minutes ago when you threatened to fire me," Sam said, looking more amused than angry. "Nothing!"
"You obnoxious, overbearing, overgrown—"
"Sam is my husband, Alan," Nikki said quickly. She came forward to stand next to Sam. "We were married six weeks ago."
The announcement cut through his tirade like a hot knife going through butter. "You're married?" His voice came out on a wheeze.
"We're married," she confirmed.
"I don't believe you." His eyes narrowed, and he shot an accusing look from her to Sam and back again. "You did this just to get around Grandfather's will. Just so you could keep your hands on my money."
"Your money?" Nikki felt a shaft of anger go through her, stiffening her spine. "Your money? Grandfather left you half of his estate, which you received on his death. The money I inherit when I marry is my money."
"That's a matter of opinion," he sneered. "But it really doesn't matter one way or another, because Grandfather's will specifically stated that it had to be a genuine marriage, not some stranger you picked up off the street and paid to marry you."
Nikki hoped he'd take her guilty flush as a sign of anger. He'd come uncomfortably close to the truth.
"Not that it's any of your business, but our marriage is genuine." Sam put his arm around Nikki and drew her against his side. The look he gave her held such blatant hunger that Nikki felt herself flushing again, but for a different reason. "Very genuine."
"I don't believe it." But Alan's protest was weak.
Just like the man, Sam thought, surveying him with unconcealed contempt. It was hard to believe that this whiny little specimen was Nikki's brother.
There was, he supposed, a certain physical resemblance. Both were fair, and Alan's eyes were a slightly paler shade of green than his sister's. But the resemblance ended there. It didn't look as if Alan ha
d any of his sister's strength and determination.
"Maybe you'd like to tell us why you broke into our home and tried to steal that vase," Sam said to his brother-in-law.
"I don't have to tell you anything," Alan snapped.
"Okay." Sam dropped his arm from Nikki's waist and took a step forward. He pretended not to notice when Alan flinched away from him. "Keep an eye on him, honey, while I call 911."
"You wouldn't," Alan said. He took one look at Sam's expression and all the bluster drained out of him.
"I needed some money," he muttered. "I was going to sell the vase."
"You were going to sell Grandfather's favorite vase?"
"He's not around to care anymore," Alan said. "I didn't know you'd cooked up this marriage thing, and I figured it was going to be mine in a few months, anyway."
Sam considered arguing with his choice of phrasing, but he didn't think Nikki had any desire to drag out this scene.
"Well, now you know it isn't going to be yours, so unless Nikki wants you to hang around to reminisce about old times, why don't you leave?"
"I can't."
"Why not? You know your way to the door, don't you? Or do you normally enter houses through the window?"
Alan shot Sam a resentful look. "I came by cab," he said sullenly.
Sam's brows rose. "You" had a cab bring you here to commit burglary? That's one I haven't heard before."
"Burglary!" Alan looked alarmed. "What are you talking about?"
"When someone jimmies a latch, climbs in a window and tries to make off with valuable items, that's what it's usually called."
"I had to come in the window because I lost my key," Alan told him furiously. "But this is my home and I have a right to take anything I want. This should all be mine, anyway. If she hadn't married you, it would be mine." The look he shot Nikki was venomous. "She owes me."
It took Sam a moment to control his temper. With every fiber of his being, he wanted to plant his fist in Alan's face. He might even be doing the jerk a favor. A broken nose might add some character to Alan's pretty-boy looks. On the other hand, Alan obviously had no character, so it would be false advertising, and from the sick look in Nikki's eyes, he suspected that the best thing he could do for her was to end this scene as quickly as possible.
"Nikki doesn't owe you a damn thing," he said, keeping his tone level with an effort. "I want you out of here and I don't ever want to see your pasty, overfed face in this house again."
"You can't throw me out. I have just as much right to be here as she does." Alan jerked his head in Nikki's direction.
"Does he have any legal rights to the house?" Sam asked, without taking his eyes from Alan's.
There was a moment's pause, and then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nikki shake her head slowly. "Grandfather left the house to me. Alan has no legal claim on it."
"Then that makes this a definite case of breaking and entering." Sam's smile held all the friendliness of a wolf contemplating a particularly juicy rabbit. "Isn't it handy that I'm a cop."
"You're a cop?" Alan paled to the color of skim milk. He glared at Nikki. "You married a cop?" He made it sound as if she'd committed a heinous social solecism.
"It happens in the best of families," Sam said cheerfully.
"How could you marry a cop?" Alan seemed to be taking it as a personal affront.
"I wouldn't worry too much. I don't expect we'll be seeing much of each other." Sam dropped the good-humored facade. "Out. And don't come back."
"Are you going to let him do this, Nikki?" Alan turned an appealing look in his sister's direction. "We're family. Are you going to let this gorilla you married force me out of your life?"
Nikki looked at her older brother and felt nothing but a cold emptiness inside. They'd never been close, but she'd always felt a certain tie to him. It was obvious that she was the only one who'd felt that bond. Alan's sole concern was for himself, just as it always had been and just as it always would be. "Goodbye, Alan."
Shock flashed across his face. "You're choosing him over your own family?"
"We've never been a family," Nikki told him. She thought of the Walkers, of how close they were, of how they'd opened their arms to her. She'd never known what a family was until she became part of theirs.
He must have seen the finality in her eyes because he didn't attempt to argue any further.
"Can I at least have the vase?"
"I don't believe you!" Sam's hand closed over the smaller man's shoulder, and from Alan's sudden pallor, Nikki assumed his grip was no gentler than it looked. She considered—briefly—protesting on Alan's behalf.
"Out!" Sam ensured Alan's obedience by marching him from the room. A moment later, Nikki heard the door slam shut, cutting off Alan's protest that he needed to call a cab.
"We could have let him call a cab," she said as Sam reentered the room.
"The walk will do him good," Sam said without the least sign of remorse. "Are you okay?"
"If you mean, am I devastated by the loss of my only brother's warm affection, no. I told you before that we weren't really close."
"I guess that's an understatement."
"I suppose it is." It was only recently that she'd realized just how much of an understatement it was. "I hope he wasn't too obnoxious before I got here."
"He wasn't exactly charming, but I doubt I'd have won any awards in that respect myself." Sam shrugged. "When I caught him trying to make off with the vase, I guess I wasn't as civil as I might have been."
Despite the nasty scene just past, Nikki found a smile tugging at her mouth. She walked over to the sofa and picked up the vase to return it to its place. ^'Don't they teach you to be civil to burglars at the academy?"
"I think I was sick that day."
Sam watched her walk around the room, straightening things that didn't need straightening. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, the scene with her brother had obviously upset her. He wished he knew what to say to make her feel better, but he couldn't think of anything.
She finally turned to look at him. "I think I'm going to go for a run. I need to blow the cobwebs out of my brain."
"It's almost dark."
Nikki followed his glance out the window and hesitated, but she was desperate to get out and feel the fresh air in her face.
"It'll be okay. This is a pretty safe area."
"No area is safe, especially not for a woman alone. I'll go with you."
"No, really, Sam. I'll be all right." Since he was part of what she was running from, it wouldn't do much good to have him with her. But she couldn't tell him that, so she sought another excuse. "I've been running for almost five years and I set a brisk pace."
She realized her mistake immediately, but it was too late. There was a slight but visible stiffening of Sam's spine. Male pride radiated from every inch of him.
"Do you think I couldn't keep up with you?"
"Do you run?"
"I've done my share," he hedged, not wanting to admit that it had been almost ten years since he'd run on a regular basis. "Besides, I'm in damn good condition. I bench-press two-twenty before breakfast. In fact, Alan's arrival interrupted my workout, so a run sounds like a good idea."
Nikki hesitated a moment and then nodded. "Let me get changed."
Sam watched her climb the stairs, hoping he hadn't just bitten off more than he could chew.
Chapter 13
"I feel much better," Nikki said brightly. "A good run always clears my mind and leaves me with so much energy. Isn't this great?"
Sam glared at her. He didn't have the breath to spare to answer her and, even if he had, his mother had taught him not to use those kinds of words in front of women. He was about to die right here on the street, and she was still bounding along like a damned gazelle.
He'd never been so grateful to see anything in his life as he was to see the familiar driveway up ahead. He knew he just might make it that far without humiliating himself by collapsing in a heap.<
br />
"I feel good enough to make another round," Nikki chirped.
Sam's heart dropped. His knees threatened to follow suit. He'd never make it. One more hill—up or down—and he was going to die. There was no question in his mind.
"I guess it's a little late for that, isn't it?" she asked.
"Yes." He put as much force behind the word as possible with his lungs on fire. When had he gotten so out of shape? Or was this a symptom of encroaching age?
To his enormous relief, Nikki turned in the driveway. The thought of reaching the end of this torture renewed Sam's energy to the point where he was able to keep from staggering his way up the drive.
"I always do a little bit of cool-down out by the pool," Nikki said, bounding past the house.
Sam gave the front door a longing look, thinking of the hot showers, cold beers and soft beds that lay beyond it, but he forced himself to follow Nikki.
"You look a little tired," she said as she began a series of stretches that made him ache just to look at.
"It's...the damned...hills," Sam got out between gasps for air. He braced his hands on his knees, his back rising and falling in a rapid rhythm as he struggled to catch his breath.
"Am I hearing correctly?" Nikki asked incredulously. "Is the iron man saying that a little run was more than he could handle?"
"That wasn't a 'little run.' We must have covered at least six miles."
"Three and a half," she corrected. She jogged in place a little. "I've measured it."
The look Sam shot her suggested that he didn't appreciate her precision. "And it wasn't more than I could handle. I'm just a little winded, that's all. Would you stop bouncing up and down!"
With a barely concealed grin, Nikki stopped. She stretched out one leg and leaned her weight toward it, stretching the muscles. There was a brief silence filled only by the sound of Sam's ragged breathing.
"Shall I get you an oxygen mask?" she asked politely.
For a moment, Sam remained in the same position. Nikki waited, her teeth tugging at her lower lip as she fought the urge to grin like a clown. After his comments about what great condition he was in, she couldn't help but enjoy the picture he made.
A Family Circle 1 - A Very Convenient Marriage Page 16