by Addison Fox
Was he a coward? Nikolas wondered. Or had something simply broken in him the day his mother died?
Regardless of the answer, his dedication to his firm hadn’t been entirely misplaced. He’d built something strong and solid on his own, with hard work, determination and the quicksilver tongue his mother said he’d been blessed with.
What she always added was that she wasn’t sure if the gift had come from the good Lord above or the very devil. To which Nikolas had shot back with a quick wink and a grin that they’d both claim him depending on the day.
The swat she’d drop on his dark curls was never quite hard enough to bite, nor slight enough not to feel, and he smiled as the warm memory washed over him. Even now, he could feel her small palm lying against the back of his head after she gave him that playful pat, full of the affection that had always flowed easily between them.
A steady presence at odds with his father’s flit-in-and-flit out approach.
A light buzz interrupted his thoughts, the front door to his office emitting the standard notice of a new arrival. Was Selina back to dish more dirt or make more demands about her former stepson?
Nikolas glanced one last time at the image of Ace Colton still sitting on his computer screen. Sure, the man looked formidable, but he hardly looked like a patricidal maniac.
Nikolas loved nothing more than a juicy case, but he had to admit, even if it was just to himself, that it was quite possible he’d bitten off too much with this one. Yes, the case was exciting, but he wasn’t going to make up evidence or put a good man through the wringer.
On an inward sigh, Nikolas once more forced himself to look at the situation objectively. It was the same argument he’d made to himself earlier that week when he took the case. He’d been honest with Selina from the get-go that he would do the job and he’d stand by his findings about who shot Payne—whatever they were.
She’d agreed but he hadn’t missed the skepticism in her eyes, as if she figured that the verdict would be a guilty one.
Which was her problem, not his.
Stepping out into his outer office, he’d already braced for round two with Selina when he found a different woman entirely. Small and petite, she had a mane of blond hair pulled back in a messy braid that was somehow enchanting for all its disarray. Pretty green eyes peered back at him from that small face and he felt something strangely protective kick in his gut, banishing all thoughts of food.
That protection shifted slightly—along with a subtle disappointment he couldn’t quite define—as his gaze moved from her face to her small frame.
And the large, round, beach ball of a stomach that unmistakably announced her pregnancy.
“Can I help you?”
“Are you Mr. Slater?”
“Mr. Slater’s my dad. Please call me Nikolas.”
“Right. Nikolas.” She clasped and unclasped her hands beneath that round belly, before glancing around. As if realizing she hadn’t stepped fully inside, she finally did so, then turned to carefully close the door.
His intrigue grew apace with his curiosity. “And you are?” he finally asked.
“Oh. Sorry.” She closed the rest of the distance between them, her hand out. “I’m Nova. Nova Ellis.”
Although she shook with her right hand, she’d lifted her left to rest on the top of her belly and he couldn’t help noticing there wasn’t a wedding ring.
Or any ring, for that matter.
Which might be explained by her pregnancy weight, but somehow he didn’t think so. There was no white line on her ring finger.
He let her hand drop, impressed by the solid handshake from such a small woman. No shy, retiring hothouse violet here. “How can I help you, Nova?”
“I’m looking for my father.”
Not her baby’s father. Her father. “I might be able to do something about that. When did he go missing?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I thought you were looking for him.”
“Well, I am. But I’ve never met him and he’s never met me. He doesn’t even know about me.”
Realistically, there was little he could do for her. He’d give her the number for a national adoption organization and send her on her way. Which had him oddly disappointed their conversation was going to come to such a swift end.
“I’ve got a few people you can reach out to. I don’t typically work on adoption cases but I do have some resources that can connect children with parents if both parties are willing.”
“Sorry.” She shook her head, a pretty little flush creeping up her neck. “I’m messing this up terribly.” Her hand shot out to rest on his arm. “My mother knew who my father was. Before she died last year, she told me about their teenage fling. She never told him about me but she did tell me about him.”
Nikolas gave her his broadest, most professional smile. This one was open-and-shut, and while he was strangely reluctant to send her on her way, he also had a sense that his fees were somehow out of her range. “If you have his name, reach out directly. There’s no reason to pay for an investigator’s services.”
“Um. Well. I think maybe there is.” Her gaze alighted on the small stack of the week’s papers he kept on his waiting room coffee table. The latest story about Ace Colton was on the top, the headline screaming about the apparently guilty Colton heir, who had recently gone into hiding after the gun that had shot Payne was found in his apartment.
Some odd premonition skimmed over his nerve endings before seeming to rest on the back of his head, as warm as his mother’s palm used to be.
In fact, he wasn’t even all that surprised when Nova bent and picked up the paper, turning it so the headline faced him.
“Ace Colton is my father.”
Chapter 2
Nova’s words hung in the air between her and the cute private eye, seeming to expand and fill the space. She wasn’t sure why she’d made such an impact, but something in the utterance of the words “Ace Colton” had stilled Nikolas Slater.
“Excuse me?” he asked, his hazel eyes growing darker by the moment.
Although she suspected there was some sort of confidentiality clause that protected all she might say to him if she were a client, she wasn’t one. Nor did she have the funds to become one, she well knew. It would be worth confirming what she should—or shouldn’t—say. “I can talk to you freely and confidentially, yes?”
He seemed to consider her for a moment and she figured that even if he did find a way to use the information she shared, she’d at least rest secure in the knowledge she’d tried to protect herself.
But she needed answers. And right now that need trumped what might happen later.
“Sure, I’m willing to do that for this conversation.” That darkness cleared somewhat, even if that underlying sharpness she’d sensed in him hadn’t faded one bit. In fact, he practically hummed in anticipation.
“You sure about that?”
“Yes, of course I am. Whatever you tell me is confidential.”
Nova debated briefly with herself before she dived in. She’d already made the decision to come here; she might as well go all in. “I’m here because my mother told me that she had a relationship with Ace when they were both teenagers and I was the result. He’d already broken up with her, telling her he had commitments back in Arizona, and she never told him about me.”
“Did she have any proof?”
“A few old photos and a couple of stories that she claimed would be something only the two of them would know.”
“The Colton family is powerful.” Nikolas pointed to the paper she’d dropped back onto the coffee table. “Even without his current situation, Ace Colton is a force in Mustang Valley. So’s his family. Are you sure you want to pursue this?”
Whatever she’d expected on the long drive across the country, she’d never considered the idea tha
t she shouldn’t seek out her father. Or worse, that she’d be looked at as having ulterior motives if she did.
The hand she’d laid instinctively against her belly tightened as she imagined what she must look like. Young and pregnant.
Alone.
While she didn’t want to risk telling anyone, even this stranger, about her relationship with Ferdy, she did suddenly have a sense of what she must look like. Despite Nikolas’s kind eyes and willingness to listen to her, a cold sense of dread washed over Nova. “In spite of what you may think of me, I’m not here for his money.”
“I didn’t say you were.” Nikolas scrubbed a hand over the dark stubble that coated his jaw and cheeks. She had a suspicion that he carried a perpetual five o’clock shadow, even with a daily shave, and found the look appealing. Dark and dangerous and, for reasons she couldn’t define, protective.
There was something about the man that made her feel safe. After five months on the run, she hadn’t realized just how badly she needed a few moments to feel that way.
“What I’m trying to say is that the Colton family wields a lot of power and has a lot of press attention. Do you want to wade into that? Especially in your—” he waved a hand “—condition.”
Some small voice whispered that she should have been insulted by his words. But instead, there was something in the gesture that struck her as inordinately cute and she couldn’t resist a moment of fun. “I’m not pregnant.”
His eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline, an “I’m sorry” already spilling out when Nova started laughing.
“It’s just too fun to mess with people. Even if you deserved it because you didn’t abide by the golden rule of pregnancy conversation.”
He apparently didn’t see the same humor as she did and the wariness in his gaze was evident. “Which is what?”
“Unless a woman tells you she’s pregnant or you see the baby actually coming out of her uterus, all comments are off the table.”
“Oh. Um.”
She took pity and laid a hand on his arm once more. Just like the first time she’d touched him, she didn’t miss the firm strength there. “I’m teasing you again. It’s totally clear that I’m pregnant. But you do bring up a good point about the Coltons. They’ve got a lot of attention right now and a long-lost kid—with a baby of her own on the way—might be a little much.”
Since walking into Nikolas Slater’s office, Nova had gotten the distinct impression that not much ruffled the man. So it was empowering to see that she’d shaken him a bit.
It was equally impressive to see him take the conversation back firmly in hand. “Why don’t you come into my office and tell me your story? The whole story. We can game-plan from there.”
“But you don’t want my case.”
“I don’t not want your case. But you may not want me for your case.”
Her gaze dropped to her stomach before heading back up to meet his. “I’m not exactly in a position to be picky right now.”
“You may be once I tell you my side of things.” He gestured toward his office. “Come on back and take a seat.”
She followed him, taking in her surroundings as she walked back. The total office space was small, but he’d made the most of it. His cherrywood desk held minimal clutter—not much beyond his computer and large monitor, a few small files and a photo of what she guessed was his mother.
Interesting, Nova considered as she continued on around the room. No photos of a girlfriend or wife and family. In fact, very little personal detail at all.
Was he a neat freak?
Unbidden, an image of Ferdy’s immaculate office came back to her. The cool, sleek furniture. The pink marble in the bathroom. Even the thick-cut glass decanter and glasses he’d kept in both his outer and inner office.
On a quick glance, she realized that not only did Nikolas Slater not have a credenza, but there wasn’t a liquor tray anywhere in sight. Instead, he had three matched apothecary’s cabinets along the far wall that he obviously used to keep his files. The old-fashioned touch was at odds with the modern computer and monitor, yet somehow it fit.
“Please,” he gestured toward one of the seats opposite his desk.
She sat down, her perusal of the office and the ready comparisons to Ferdy still crowding her mind. The impulse that had her laughing in the outer office had fully faded, replaced with the same serious worry that had dogged her every single mile since leaving New York.
Was she really going to tell this man her most closely guarded secrets?
“This is what I needed to show you.” Before she could question his intentions, Nikolas had his computer monitor turned around to show her the display.
A website had been minimized on the large screen with a digital note-taking program open. Her father’s face filled the left side of the screen, dominating the top of an article.
But it was the easy-to-read file name in Nikolas’s note-taking program that stopped her in her tracks.
Ace Colton Case. Task: Determine Guilt.
* * *
Nikolas half expected the woman to go running when she saw his screen, her messy braid flopping in her wake. He’d already imagined trying to chase a pregnant woman down the stairs in his building and out into the street, and wondered how big a show they’d put on for the lunch crowd out and about in downtown Mustang Valley.
Which made her next move that much more surprising.
Just like the way she’d teased him about her pregnancy, the intriguing Nova Ellis did the unexpected once again.
She flopped back in her chair, shaking her head. “This whole experience cannot get more surreal.”
“Excuse me?”
“I mean it. From the moment my mother mentioned the name Colton to me, it’s been one ride after another on the crazy train.”
“What crazy train?”
“The crazy that has become my life.” She glanced down at her purse, settled on the guest chair beside her, her gaze focused on something only she could see.
Nikolas watched the play of emotions across her face, fascinated by both her expressiveness as well as how hard she still was to read.
Was she scared? Angry? Curious?
He’d sensed all three in a matter of moments, yet she’d still been able to laugh and make jokes. Had still been able to assess his points on the power of the Colton family in Mustang Valley and reshape her reasons for coming in to see him.
Who was this woman and how had she landed squarely in his life?
“Why don’t we both start over? I can’t really talk to you with any level of depth until you’re a client.”
Her face fell at that. “I’m sorry but I can’t afford you.”
It was what he’d expected—known, really, since she’d walked in—but he pressed on anyway. “I know that. And I’m willing to take on your case pro bono. On a trial basis.”
“Trial basis? How? Or more to the point, why? You don’t know me.”
“And you don’t know me. So we’ll figure it out as we go along. But I do need your agreement to keep our conversation going. And I need to charge you something to make it official. Would a dollar work?”
She glanced down at her purse, seemingly considering his offer. Was there even a dollar in there? Nikolas wondered.
It was only when she lifted her gaze, a rueful smile at her lips, that he sensed another surprise coming. “Can I ask a favor first?”
“Sure.”
“Do you by any chance have any food here? A small package of peanut butter crackers or pretzels?”
His gaze narrowed at that even as he was already reaching into his desk drawer. “As a matter of fact, I have both.”
He handed her both packages, curious to see one more string of expressions cross her face.
Gratitude. Hunger. And unmistakable relief.
He’d
deal with sharing stories first and then he was going to do something about the hunger. He didn’t want to leave a pregnant woman hanging but the protein in the peanut butter would likely hold her for the half hour it would take to get her story. Then he’d get some real food into her and the baby.
Besides, he figured he’d need to earn a bit more of her trust to convince her to let him buy her lunch. And if she was hard up enough to gaze longingly at a bag of crackers he figured that would extend to a lack of hotel arrangements, too.
“Thanks. And thank you for the offer to work my case. We have a deal,” she added hastily before tearing open the crackers. She took a dainty nibble off the first one. He nearly smiled at the restraint as he reached for a pack of his own.
“Like I said, client confidentiality. I do maintain it. But I can tell you I’m working on a case involving Ace Colton.”
“What are you doing, exactly? Or what can you share?”
“I’ve been tasked to find any information on his guilt or innocence. And if I get lucky enough to stumble upon him, I’m to get him back into town if at all possible.”
“Where is he?”
“No one knows. He wasn’t supposed to leave Mustang Valley, but with the rumor mill working overtime it’s hard to fault the guy for hightailing it out of here.”
“Is he a criminal?”
“Not yet, but suspicions are rising.”
“That he shot his father?” she asked him.
“Yes.”
Nova pulled another cracker out of the sleeve, her expression thoughtful. “Thanks for telling me. And consider this question rhetorical, but why shoot his father? What is there to be gained?”
Quite a lot, actually. Nikolas briefly considered saying something to that end but held back. He did need to manage his confidentiality with Selina, and despite the rumors flooding the town, the family had been keeping Ace’s status quiet.
So he shifted gears to her last comment, asking a rhetorical one of his own. “Why do people do lots of things?”