by Sykes, V. K.
“Uh huh,” Rich said. “We confronted him with what you’ve told me, but he denied that he was threatening you.”
No surprise there. “Can you tell me exactly what he said, please?” Holly glanced at Nate. He patted the bed, indicating she should sit down. She waved him off with a little hand signal. She was far too wound up to sit. She stepped back into the bedroom and began to pace back and forth across the huge room. Nate’s eyes tracked her from one side to the other, concern darkening his gaze.
“He said you must have completely misunderstood him. He acted apologetic as all hell, and said he felt really bad that you’d taken him the wrong way. The jerk sounded halfway sincere, but cons like him know how to put on a good act. They’ve been around the horn with cops multiple times, and they all figure they know how to play us.”
“That’s what I expected to happen,” Holly said. She slapped her hand against the wall in frustration, then shot an apologetic grimace at Nate. He mouthed it’s going to be okay. He looked so sympathetic she wanted to cry.
“He’s obviously not going to admit to harassing you, Doc,” said Rich. “But I want you to know we gave it to him straight and hard. Told him we didn’t believe a word he said, and that if he kept going after you, we’d arrest him. We made it clear we’ve been cutting him a bit of slack, given the rough situation with his boy, but this was the end of it. No more phone calls, no more following you around, no more threats, period.”
But would Arnold listen? “Thank you. I really appreciate that. But do you really think he’ll stop now? What was your sense?” She gripped the phone tightly against her ear, almost desperate to hear the answer she wanted.
Rich kind of snorted. “I’ve learned not to make guesses when it comes to trash like Lance Arnold. All I can say is we told him we’ll be watching him, and if there’s another complaint from you we’ll have him in cuffs before he knows what hit him. I guarantee you that he got that message loud and clear.”
“Great,” Holly breathed, a little relieved. “I can’t tell you how stressful this has been, Detective. But thank you so much for following up on my complaint. I really appreciate it.”
“Dr. Bell, if the guy calls again or if you see him anywhere near you, I want you to call me right away. Any time, okay?”
He sounded totally sincere. “Thank you again,” she said. “You can be sure I will.”
“Try not to worry about it too much. I know how upsetting it all is, but if it’s any comfort, ninety-nine times out of a hundred, these threats turn out to be nothing but smoke and hot air.”
Holly wasn’t ready to take that off-the-cuff statistic to the bank. Not when she knew what Arnold was capable of doing to a woman. “I’ll try. Goodbye, Detective Rich.”
She hung up and shifted her gaze to Nate. The sheet had pooled around his waist, highlighting the line where his flat, tanned stomach met the white cotton of the sheet. His eyes overflowed with concern as he stretched out his hand to her.
When she sat down on the edge of the bed, he put his arm around her and drew her into the warmth of his body. As Nate held her, Holly filled him in on everything Rich had said, and she finally told him about the threatening message Arnold had left on her answering machine. He wasn’t happy that she’d withheld that bit of information until now, but he let it slide, listening patiently.
By the time she got to the end of the story, tears had welled up in her eyes and she’d started to tremble. Nate folded her deeper into his arms, stroking her all over. As he kissed her neck and whispered soothing words in her ear, she bit down on her lip, struggling to hold back a flood of tears.
“Hey, baby,” he said. “It’s okay to cry. I’m not a guy who takes off at the first sight of female tears.”
She gave a choked laugh that sounded more like a sob, and let him pull her back into bed. Curling into a ball, Holly pressed her face into Nate’s chest and slid her arms underneath him, gripping him hard as she tried to force herself to calm down. Her hair and her tears mingled against the warmth of his chest.
Soon, his rhythmic breathing and soothing murmurs settled her, and she found herself drifting off, safe in her man’s protective arms.
* * *
Nate made her spend the entire afternoon hacking away at a stupid white ball.
They hadn’t talked much more about her conversation with Detective Rich. There wasn’t a lot to say, and she was sick of talking about Lance Arnold anyway. Sick of thinking about him. She’d cried most of the tension out of her system—at least she hoped so—and now wanted to forget the man existed for the next couple of days. That was why she’d made the escape to Florida, wasn’t it?
Nate, probably thinking it would be fun—or at least distracting—had been adamant that she take the opportunity to get up close and personal with a set of golf clubs. She had no desire to play a game she thought was kind of stupid, but she wanted to please him so she’d gone along with it.
As they made their way around the course, with him enthusiastically encouraging her pathetic attempts to the hit the ball solidly or make a putt, she found herself reading messages into his behavior. He obviously wanted her to take up the game, and kept referring to future rounds they’d play at this course or that course. It had to mean he envisioned they’d be playing together well into the future. When she’d told him that she’d be a brutally slow learner and that he’d have to be extra patient with her, he’d grinned and said he was a very patient man.
Holly had really liked the sound of that.
By the end of eighteen, grueling holes, though, she was tired, hot, and grumpy, and felt like she’d made an utter fool of herself. But Nate simply hugged her and told her she was a real trouper.
She liked that a lot, too.
When they got back to the condo, they showered together and Nate instantly made her forget about her weary limbs. With startling ease, he brought her to a mind-numbing climax twice—first in the shower and then on top of the bed. She was glad to see all her tension and anxiety certainly hadn’t made her lose her libido. How could it, when Nate Carter had his hands on her?
She liked that the best.
Nate had made reservations for dinner at the Ritz-Carlton on Amelia Island, just an hour north of his place. Rather than driving up the faster but non-scenic interstate, they’d opted for A1A and the little ferry that crossed to the north side of the St. John’s River.
Now, as the boat moved away from the dock, Holly gave Nate a quick apology and got out of the car, dodging through the row of parked autos to look over the starboard railing. The sandy shores of a small state park stretched out in front of her. She smiled as memories of the park’s pristine beaches and quiet tidal lagoon came back to her. Seagulls and pelicans wheeled through the tangy sea air as the western sky over the wetlands put on a spectacular sunset show of magenta and gold. She inhaled a deep breath of sea air, the clean scent a sharp reminder of how much she missed the ocean.
Once the ferry docked, only an easy fifteen-minute drive through the marshlands to Amelia Island remained, and Nate made short work of the distance. As he pulled the BMW under the Ritz-Carlton’s portico, a uniformed valet rushed forward to hand him a ticket and a bellman helped Holly out, immediately asking if they were checking in. Regretfully, she said no, a real shame now that she thought about it. A romantic night at a beautiful seaside resort sounded like it would have been something close to heaven.
The maitre d’ at the Salt Grill, where they had their reservation, immediately recognized Nate and greeted them both with effusive warmth. He led them to a candle-lit table in the corner looking out toward the ocean, just a long stone’s throw away across the dunes. It was low tide, and the flat beach seemed to stretch out forever, indistinct with the sea as the two merged in a silvery-gray line.
The dinner turned out to be superb, as she’d expected, and they had a wonderful time talking about everything under the sun. She and Nate thought alike about a surprising number of things. And they had a lot of time to e
xplore different subjects because it took them forever to eat their way through nine tasting courses. Normally that wouldn’t have bothered Holly one bit, but they had a long, twisty drive back to Ponte Vedra and both of them had consumed a little more alcohol than they should have. When Nate suggested an after-dinner drink, Holly waved her finger at him.
“Not a chance, you crazy man. In fact, I think we should get another cup of coffee and then head out. We can have a nightcap when we get home, if you want. And I’m going to drive, since the combination of your injured shoulder and your blood alcohol level doesn’t exactly inspire a passenger’s confidence.”
Nate, who by now obviously felt no pain, gave her a wolfish grin. “I’ve been thinking about that for a while, sweet stuff, and I’ve got a better idea,” he said, his Brooklyn accent becoming more pronounced by the minute. “Why don’t we just stay right here for the night?” Then he chuckled. “In a room, I mean.”
Holly arched her eyebrows in surprise. “I’d love to, of course, but we didn’t bring any extra clothes. Or anything at all.”
“Don’t worry about clothes. You saw the shops we passed as we came down the hall. Everything we might need we can buy right here in the hotel in the morning. The Ritz will give us toothpaste and brushes. We’ll be all set. No problem at all.”
She thought about it, but it felt like taking advantage of him. Still, it would be safer than driving home, and the idea of a sexy night at the beautiful resort certainly had its appeal. “But it sounds a little extravagant, Nate. If we do it, you should let me pay part of the bill.”
“Thanks, but forget that thought. Holly, you deserve a treat and I intend to give you one,” he said seriously.
“But you already have,” she protested.
“Sorry, babe. You’re just going to have to get used to being spoiled.” The look in his eyes dared her to challenge him, but the implication of his words thrilled her to her core.
“Well, I suppose when you put it like that,” she said. “Staying here is a wonderful idea. Thank you, Nate.” She gave him a grateful smile.
He winked at her. “Trust me when I say I’ll make sure you pay in several other ways.”
I certainly hope so. She gave him the sexiest smile she could muster. “Trust me when I say I’ll hold you to that.”
“Excuse me for a moment,” he said huskily, rising from his chair. “I’ll check us in at the desk. I don’t think there’ll be a problem getting a room.”
Holly followed him with an avid gaze as he left the restaurant. She’d never seen a man look better in a suit—all elegance, style, and power in the perfectly tailored, jet black Armani. But Nate was simply sex-on-a-stick no matter what he was wearing—a baseball uniform, jeans and a tee shirt, or a designer suit.
Every woman in the place obviously agreed with her, since they followed him with eyes that left little doubt as to what they were thinking. It still seemed incomprehensible to Holly that Nate desired her so much.
Incomprehensible, but indescribably thrilling.
* * *
It took a little longer to arrange for the room than Nate expected. He’d stayed at the Ritz several times before, but he didn’t know the clerk at the front desk. Luckily, she immediately recognized him, and chatted him up in her soft southern accent as if she were his biggest fan.
Until Holly Bell walked into his life, he wouldn’t have hesitated to respond when the sweet-faced clerk in her smart, tailored uniform started to flirt with him. But not tonight. Tonight the loveliest, sexiest woman a man could ever want to meet waited for him back in the restaurant.
And a very vulnerable woman, too, which had surprised the hell out of him. When Holly had clung to him this morning, trying so hard not to cry after the shitty phone call with Detective Rich, Nate had experienced an odd rush of emotions. Anger, of course, and then deep concern. He’d wanted to pound that prick Arnold into dust for scaring her. But mostly he’d wanted to hold her close, soothing away her fears. Then he’d wanted to make love to her, claiming and protecting her in the most basic way he could. He’d never felt like that toward any woman, but he was quickly learning that Holly Bell was like no one he’d ever met.
He’d settled for letting her fall asleep in his arms, and then later hauling her off to the golf course. She’d resisted at first, but he knew the challenge of learning the game would be a powerful distraction. It worked, too. Holly had been so irritated by her clumsy first attempts that she’d knuckled down with a grim determination that seemed to drive all thoughts of Arnold out of her head. Nate couldn’t help but admire her. She was so far from a natural athlete that he’d had to stifle the occasional laugh when she whiffed the ball or hammered one sideways into the trees. But his girl was a fighter, and that he could totally respect.
The pretty blonde who was helping him gave a satisfied exclamation, capturing Nate’s attention. “We’re in luck, Mr. Carter! We do have a small suite available for you.”
“Great,” he enthused. “I knew you could do it.”
Fortunately, classy hotels often kept a suite or two open for VIP’s that showed up unexpectedly, and it sure didn’t hurt that the clerk was a genuine fan. She gave him a suite on the fifth floor, that she said directly faced the ocean.
Perfect.
As Nate pushed his way through the doors of the Salt Grill, he fixed his eyes on Holly, sitting in elegant profile at their table by the windows. She was gazing through the tall glass toward the ocean, now dark and mysterious in the moonlight. The room’s subdued but warm lighting bathed her in tones that made her even more tantalizing than usual. Her long neck and creamy shoulders, uncovered except for the thin strap of the black cocktail dress, made him want to run a string of kisses on her glowing skin from the tips of her fine, surgeon’s fingers right up to her delicate earlobe.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he said quietly, hoping not to startle her.
She turned toward him, giving him a bright smile as if to celebrate his return.
“I was just thinking how lucky people are to be able to live beside the ocean. It’s good for the soul to be near the water, don’t you think?”
“Yes, it is,” he agreed, after pausing for a moment. “And it’s good for my soul to be near you.” He realized with diamond-sharp clarity how right the words sounded to him.
A look of wonder stole over her fine-boned features. “Nate Carter, that is without a doubt the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me.” Her heart was in her eyes, and her gaze made Nate feel ten feet tall. But strangely tongue-tied, too, as if something had grabbed at his vocal cords and squeezed tight.
“Ah, would you care to inspect our room now?” he finally managed. “I’m told it’s kind of nice.”
* * *
Holly inspected the suite, her skin tingling with delight. Nice was not exactly the best word to describe the place. Decadent wouldn’t be closer. Both rooms were spacious and lavishly decorated, and the furnishings were the finest she’d ever seen in a hotel room. And she’d stayed in enough nice hotels to know the difference.
But the wall-to-wall, full-height windows—with a door leading to a long, oceanfront balcony—drew her immediately. The door opened with the slightest push, and she stepped out into a fragrant ocean breeze. Lights shone from the hotel courtyard below and to the left, highlighting the tall palms whose fronds rustled in the wind. The moon glimmered on the white-capped waves as Holly strained to make out a group of lights distant on the horizon. Probably a freighter heading for the port of Jacksonville.
“Let’s go down to the beach,” she suggested impulsively, turning to Nate who had stepped out onto the balcony beside her.
He leered at her, waggling his eyebrows like Groucho Marx. “For a little skinny-dipping, I presume?”
She rolled her eyes. “I was thinking more along the lines of a nice walk along the shore. But feel free to go for it if the spirit moves you.”
“Better not. God only knows what’s lurking out there in those water
s at night.” He put an arm around her waist and kissed her ear. “I’m up for a stroll, though. But let’s grab a blanket. It’s great to sit in the dark, just watching the waves and listening to the surf.”
“Good idea. There should be an extra blanket in the closet.” She turned to go back inside to check.
“And I’ll order up some wine and a couple of glasses,” Nate said as he followed her.
“Can we take that down to the beach?” she asked as she pulled down a blanket from the closet.
“Baby, I can do just about anything,” he boasted. He offset the arrogance of the comment with a goofy, endearing grin.
She laughed. “You do know how to impress a girl, Carter.” She tried to act like it was no big deal, but excitement bubbled inside her as she surrendered to the impulsive magic of the trip. Everything about it had been perfect. More than perfect, if that were even possible.
And that thought, somehow, felt a bit too much like tempting fate.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
A sliver of moonlight allowed Nate and Holly to pick their way along the narrow path through the dunes. He glanced back at the lights of the Ritz shining behind them. Ahead lay only the darkness of the sand and the glow of the moonlight on the still water. With the low tide, the beach seemed to stretch forever toward the sea.
They had ditched their shoes at the end of the fake wood walkway that traversed most of the wide dunes between the hotel and the shoreline. Holly looked elegant in her sexy cocktail dress, but as for him—well, bare feet and rolled up trouser legs didn’t exactly go with the Armani look.
Leading the way, wine bottle under one arm and a long-stemmed glass stuffed in each outside pocket of his jacket, he swept the beach ahead with the small flashlight a valet had retrieved from the BMW. Holly followed right behind, her left hand loosely gripping the back of his jacket and her right clutching the blanket.