by Nora Roberts
But once she had a purpose, Rachel wasn’t easily shaken. “I always wished I’d learned. Tash got my mother a piano a few months ago—when we found out she’d always wanted to play. All those years we were growing up, she never mentioned it. All those years…” Her words trailed off, and then she shook herself back to the matter at hand. “My sister married a musician. Spencer Kimball.”
“Kimball?” Nick’s eyes widened before he could prevent it. “The composer?”
“You know his work?”
“Yeah.” He struggled to keep it cool. A guy couldn’t admit he listened to longhair music—unless it was heavy metal. “Some.”
Delighted with his reaction, Rachel continued, just as casually. “At one of our visits down to see Tash and her family, we caught Mama at the piano. She got all flustered and kept saying how she was too old to learn, and how foolish it was. But then Spence sat down with her to show her a few chords, and you could see, you could just see, how much she wanted to learn. So on Mother’s Day, we worked out this big, elaborate plan to get her out of the house for a few hours. Anyway, when she came back, the piano was in the living room. She cried.” Rachel blinked the mist out of her own eyes and sighed. “She takes lessons twice a week now, and she’s practicing for her first recital.”
“That’s cool,” Nick murmured, obscurely touched.
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool.” She smiled at him. “I guess it proves it’s never too late to try.” When she offered a hand, she wanted him to take it as a gesture of friendship and support. “What do you say we walk off some of this pizza?”
“Yeah.” His fingers closed around hers, and Nicholas LeBeck was in heaven.
He was content to listen to her talk, to have her laugh shiver over him. Even the shadows of the girls who had weaved in and out of his life faded away. They were nothing compared to the woman who walked beside him, slim and soft and fragrant.
She listened when he talked. And she was interested in what he had to say. When she smiled up at him, those exotic eyes flashing with humor, his stomach tied itself into slippery knots.
He could have walked with her for hours.
“This is it.”
Nick pulled up short, standing in almost the exact spot his brother had a few nights before. As his gaze skimmed over the building at her back, he imagined what it would be like if she asked him in. They’d have coffee, and she’d slip off her shoes and curl those long legs up as they talked.
He’d be careful with her, even gentle. Once his nerves settled.
“I’m glad we could do this,” she was saying, already taking out her keys. “I hope if you’re feeling restless again, or just need to talk to someone, you’ll call me. When I file my report with Judge Beckett tomorrow, I think she’ll be pleased with the way things are working out.”
“Are you?” His eyes locked on hers as he lifted a hand to her hair. “Pleased with the way things are working out?”
“Sure.” A little alarm shrilled in Rachel’s head, but she dismissed it as absurd. “I think you’ve taken a step in the right direction.”
“Me too.”
The alarm continued to beep as she backed up. “We’ll have to do this again soon, but I’ve got to get in now. I have an early meeting.”
“Okay. I’ll call you.”
She blinked as his hands lipped around to cup her neck. “Ah, Nick…”
His mouth closed over hers, very warm, very firm. Her eyes stayed open, registering shock, as her hand flew up to press against his shoulder. His fingers tensed against her neck, and she had the impression of a very lean, very hard body before she managed to pull away.
“Nick,” she said again, groping.
“It’s okay.” He smiled, tucked her hair behind her ear in a gesture that reminded her vividly of his brother. “I’ll be in touch.”
He strolled away. No…good Lord, he was swaggering, Rachel thought as she stared after him. With her mind whirling, she let herself in. “Oh, boy,” she sighed as she paced the elevator.
What now? What now? How could she have been so stupid? Cursing herself, she stomped off the elevator and toward her apartment. This was great, just great. Here she’d been trying to make friends with Nick, and all the while he’d been thinking…
She didn’t want to think about what he’d been thinking.
Without taking off her jacket, she paced the apartment. There had to be a reasonable, diplomatic way to handle this, she told herself. He was only nineteen, he just had a crush, she was overreacting.
Then she remembered those limber fingers on the back of her neck, the firm press of those lips, the smooth and practiced way he’d drawn her against him.
Wrong, Rachel thought, and closed her eyes. She wasn’t dealing with a child’s puppy love, but with a full-grown man’s desire.
Dropping down onto the arm of the couch, she dragged her hands through her hair. She should have seen it coming, she told herself. She should have stopped it before it started. She should have done a lot of things.
After twenty minutes of kicking herself, she snatched up the phone. She might be hip-deep in quicksand, but she wasn’t going to sink alone.
“Lower the Boom.”
“Let me talk to Muldoon,” Rachel snapped, scowling at the sound of laughter and bar chatter that hummed through the receiver. “It’s Rachel Stanislaski.”
“You got it. Hey, Zack, phone for you. It’s the babe.”
Babe? Rachel thought, narrowing her eyes. “Babe?” she repeated out loud the moment Zack had answered.
“Hey, sugar, I’m not responsible for the opinions of my bartenders.” He took a swallow of mineral water. “So you finally realized you couldn’t keep away from me.”
“Stuff it, Muldoon. We need to talk. Tonight.”
He stopped grinning and shifted the phone. “Is there a problem?”
“Damn right.”
“Nick breezed through a couple of minutes ago. He seemed fine when he headed upstairs.”
“He’s upstairs?” she said, calculating. “Just make sure he stays up there. I’m coming right over.” She hung up before he could ask any questions.
* * *
It wasn’t exactly the way he’d planned it, Zack thought as he mixed a couple of stingers. His strategy had been to lie back for a few days, let Rachel simmer. Until she came to a boil—and came looking for him.
She hadn’t sounded lonely or aroused or vulnerable over the phone. She’d sounded mad as a hornet.
He cast his eyes up at the ceiling, picturing the apartment overhead, as he automatically added a twist to a glass of club soda. Obviously it had to do with Nick. Where the hell had the boy been all evening? he wondered.
What kind of trouble had he gotten himself into this time? With half an ear, Zack took an order for two drafts, a margarita on the rocks and a coffee, black. Damned if he’d thought the boy was in trouble, Zack reflected. Nick had looked relaxed, calm, even approachable, when he’d checked in. Zack remembered thinking that the date had been a rousing success. And he’d hoped to be able to ease the girl’s name out of his brother—along with a bit more salient information.
He didn’t figure Nick needed a course in the birds and bees, but he hoped to drop a few hints about responsibility, protection and respect.
A steady girl, a steady job, a stable home. They all seemed to be coming together. So what the hell…
His thoughts broke off as he looked up. Rachel walked in, cheeks flushed from the chilly evening, eyes snapping. As she crossed the room, she peeled off her jacket to reveal one of those soft sweaters she often wore. This one was the color of a good burgundy, with a wide cowl neck that draped softly over the swell of her breasts. It rode her hips, and under it she wore snug black leggings that showed off those first-class legs.
Zack checked to make sure his tongue wasn’t hanging out.
She stopped at the bar only long enough to glare at him. “In your office.” Without waiting for a response, she strode off.
“Yeah.” Zack set the last glass on Lola’s tray. All he could think was, there was definitely a fire in the hole. “If Nick comes back down, tell him I’m…tied up.”
“You’re the boss.”
“Right.” And he intended to remain the boss. He swung through the bar and, taking one bracing breath, marched into his office.
Rachel had tossed her jacket and purse aside, and was pacing. When the door opened, she stopped, swung her hair back and leveled a killing gaze at him.
“Don’t you ever talk to him?” she demanded.” Aren’t you making any effort to find out what’s going on in his head? What kind of a guardian are you, anyway?”
“What the hell is this?” He threw up his hands in disgust. “I don’t see or hear from you in days, then you come stalking in here just so you can yell at me. Just simmer down, Counselor, and remember I’m not some felon on the witness stand.”
“Don’t tell me to simmer down,” she tossed back. It felt good, really good, to assuage her guilt and frustration with a pitched battle. “I’m the one who’s going to have to deal with him. And if you were any kind of a brother, you would have known. You could have warned me.”
Because his confidence as a brother was still at low tide, he hissed out an oath. Rachel echoed it as he shoved her into a chair. “Just sit down and take it from the top. I assume we’re talking about Nick.”
“Of course we’re talking about Nick.” She popped up again, and was pushed right back down. “I don’t have anything else to discuss with you.”
“We’ll bypass that for now. Just what is it I should have known and warned you about?”
“That he’d…he’d…” She blew out a breath, struggling for the proper phrase. “That he’d started to think of me as a woman.”
“How the hell is he supposed to think of you? As a tuna?”
“I mean as a woman,” she said between her teeth. “Do I have to spell it out?”
His brows shot up, then settled again as he reached for a cigarette. “Don’t be stupid, Rachel. He’s nineteen. I’m not saying he’s blind and wouldn’t appreciate the way you look. But he’s got a girl. He was out with her tonight.”
“You idiot.” She sprang up again, and this time she thumped a fist on his chest. “He was out with me tonight.”
“Out with you?” With a frown, Zack studied her. “What for?”
“We went to the movies, had a pizza. I wanted to get him to talk a little—informally—so when he called I said sure.”
“One step at a time. Nick called you and asked you out on a date.”
“It wasn’t a date. I didn’t think it was a damn date.” Since she didn’t see anything handy to kick other than Zack’s shin, she stalked a circle around his office again. “It seemed to me if we could develop a relationship—A friendship,” she corrected hastily. “It would make things easier all around.”
Considering, Zack took a drag of his cigarette. “Sounds reasonable. So you took in a flick and had a pizza. What’s the problem? Did he get into a fight, give you a hard time?” He stopped, alarmed. “You didn’t run into any of the Cobras?”
“No, no, no…” Incensed, she whirled around the room. “Aren’t you listening to me? I said he was thinking about me as a woman…as a date. As a… Oh, boy.” She let out a long breath. “He kissed me.”
Zack’s eyes turned into dark, dangerous slits. “Define kiss.”
“You know damn well what a kiss is. You smack your lips up against somebody’s.” She spun away, then back. “I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t. Then, before I realized what he was thinking, wham!”
“Wham,” Zack repeated, trying to stay calm. He took his own turn around the room, bumping his shoulders against hers. “Okay, listen, I think you’re making a big deal out of nothing. He kissed you goodnight. It’s a gesture. He’s just a kid.”
“No,” Rachel said, and her tone had Zack turning back to her. “He’s not.”
Temper was clawing to gain freedom. As a result, Zack’s voice was deadly calm. “Did he try to—”
“No.” Recognizing the signs, she cut him off. “Of course he didn’t. He just kissed me. But it was the way… Listen, Zack, I know the difference between a casual kiss good-night between friends and—and, well, a move. And I can tell you Nick has a very smooth move.”
“Glad to hear it,” Zack said between his teeth.
Suddenly drained, she dropped down onto the corner of his desk. “I don’t know what to do.”
“I’ll straighten him out.”
“How?”
“I don’t know how,” he shot back, crushing out his cigarette. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to be competing with my kid brother.”
The muttered aside had her narrowing her eyes. “I’m not a trophy, Muldoon.”
“I didn’t mean—” With a shake of his head, he leaned on the desk beside her. “Look, this throws me off course, okay? I figured Nick was out making time with some pretty little teenager whose daddy would want her home by midnight, and now I find out he’s coming on to you. If he wasn’t my brother, I’d go knock him around a little.”
“Typical,” she muttered.
He ignored that and tried to think. “It’s probably normal for him to develop—or think he’s developed—feelings for you. Don’t you think?”
“Maybe.” She tilted her head to slant Zack a look. “I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Me either. You could back off, stay unavailable—the way you’ve tried to be with me.”
“I’ve been busy.” All dignity, she lifted her chin. “And we’re not talking about you. In any case, I considered that, but I’m supposed to be his co-guardian. I can’t do that long-distance. Besides, he talked to me tonight. He really talked, and relaxed, and showed me a little of what’s underneath all that defiance. If I cut him off now, just when he’s beginning to open up and trust me, I don’t know what damage I might do.”
“You can’t string him along, Rachel.”
“I know that.” She wanted to lay her head on Zack’s shoulder, just for a minute. She looked down at her hands instead. “I need to find a way to let him know I want to be his friend—just his friend—without crushing his ego.”
Zack took her hand, and when she didn’t pull it away he twined his fingers in hers. “I’ll talk to him. Calmly,” he added when Rachel frowned at him.
“Actually, I wanted to dump the whole business in your lap, but the more I think about it, the more I’m sure he’d only resent it coming from you. How can you tell him I’m not interested without letting him know we discussed his feelings behind his back?” She shut her eyes. “And I’m not feeling very good about that, either.”
“You had to tell me.”
“Yeah, I think I did, just like I think I’m going to have to figure out what to do.”
He ran his thumb over her knuckles. “We’re in this together, remember?”
“How can I forget? But you and Nick are just getting your balance. This is bound to tilt the scales, Zack. I think it’s best if I try to handle it.” A smile played around the corners of her mouth. “I guess I should apologize for coming here and jumping on you.”
“At least it got you here. We’ll handle it.” He brought her hand to his lips, enjoying the way her eyes darkened and became cautious. “You let him down easy, and I’ll let him take it out on me. After all, I can’t blame the kid for trying, when I’m doing the same myself.”
“One has nothing to do with the other.” She pushed away from the desk, but he continued to hold her hand.
“I’m glad to hear it. Feeling better?”
Her lips quirked. “Fighting always makes me feel better.”
“Then, sugar, by the time we’re through with each other, you should be feeling like a million bucks. I don’t suppose you’
d like to hang around for a couple of hours until I can close the bar.”
“No.” Her heart picked up a beat at the thought. A dark, empty bar, blues on the juke, the world locked outside. “No, I have to go.”
“I’m shorthanded tonight, or I’d see you home. I’ll put you in a cab.”
“I can put myself in a cab.”
“Okay. In a minute.” He caught her by the hips, lifted her, then set her on the desk. “I’ve missed you,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck.
Without thinking—he certainly had a way of making her stop thinking—she tilted her head to give him more access to her skin. “I’ve been busy.”
“I don’t doubt you’ve been busy.” He moved up to nip at her earlobe. “But you’ve been stubborn. I like that about you, Rachel. Right now I can’t think of a damn thing I don’t like about you.”
This was a mistake. Any minute she’d remember why it was a mistake. She was sure of it. “You just want to talk me into bed.”
His lips curved before they came down on hers. “Oh, yeah…” He fisted his hands in her hair, and a deep sound of pleasure came from his throat when she arched against him. “How’m I doing?”
“You’re making things very difficult for me.”
“Good. That’s good.” He was very close to pressing her back on the desk and doing all the things he’d fantasized about during those long, dark nights he’d lain alone in bed, thinking of her. And she sighed. The soft, broken sound of it seemed to rip something inside his gut. Grinding out an oath, he buried his face in her hair. “I sure pick my spots,” he muttered. “On the sidewalk with a mugger, in my office with a barful of customers outside the door. Every time I’m around you I start acting like a kid in the back seat of a parked car.”
She had to concentrate just to breathe. As he continued to hold her, just hold her, she found herself stroking his hair, counting his heartbeats, warming toward him in a way that was entirely different from the flash heat of a moment before.
She’d been right about the quicksand, she realized. And she’d been right about not sinking alone. “We’re not kids,” she murmured.