by Jen Doyle
A frisson of anger ran through him, even stronger now than when Jeremy had shown him the findings. It wasn’t directed at Nicki, though, for the first time in almost ten years. It was at his mother and her solicitors—all of whom had been fully aware of the mess he’d left behind. No, not just that; who had also actively led Simon to believe Nicki had only been after his money.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had to sell your car?” The car she’d slept in for two nights after the Mandarin put her out because she’d given up her lease when they’d gotten married. This was according to her stage manager, at least, a woman Simon remembered quite fondly, but who had some choice words about him, according to Jeremy’s investigators.
Nicki’s head jerked up, eyes wide. “How did you find out about that?” she whispered. But she didn’t deny it.
“Nicki, I…” He started to reach out but went still as she pulled away from him. He gritted his teeth and clutched the edge of the counter, the anger coming back. It was nearly a necessity to stay in Santa Christa rather than return to England; otherwise, he might have actually murdered his very own mother.
“If there were any way I could go back and change what happened”—if, at the very least, he could tell his much younger self how foolish it had been to get on that plane to London, all the while thinking he could convince his mother of anything, much less changing her mind about Nicki—“I would. I promise you I would.” He released the counter, taking a step back himself, afraid his desire to touch her was radiating off him in visible waves. “But that’s not possible. Paying you back is something I can do.”
She frowned as she pushed the check back towards him. “This is… It’s half a million dollars. That’s ridiculous. I can’t accept this.”
Simon was struck by the irony. This was the woman he’d allowed himself to believe was after his fortune? She wouldn’t even take what he rightly owed her. “Of course you can. You should never have been in that position. I should never have put you there.”
If he hadn’t been watching her so carefully, he might not have caught the way her lips trembled almost as if she were about to cry in the split second before she regained control of her expression. Without any of the fire from just moments ago, she said, “Thank you, but it really isn’t necessary.” Then she held up her hand and wiggled her fingers—her very obviously ring-less fingers. “Anyway, you did pay for it. And also a very nice condo that I decided you owed me after the other bills were paid off. For which I thank you very much.”
Oh, yes, he was aware of that as well, and had been for years. His mother had made sure to share photographs, some of which included Nicki herself, along with, over time, the men she’d welcomed there. It had had the desired effect—Simon had never doubted for a moment that he’d been easily replaced and in a new flat he’d paid for. That was seven months after he’d left Las Vegas and he’d still maintained a shred of hope. But those pictures presented him with a new reality and he’d gone out and slept with the first starlet he could find.
Yet another thing he’d gotten so entirely wrong.
Nicki threw him a smile, but even now he could distinguish her stage smile from her real one. This one was all show. He decided not to call her on it, however. He pushed the check back across the counter. “I insist.”
Her fire started to come back a little. “Well, I insist back.”
As she reached out again, no doubt to push the check in his direction again in what was becoming a nearly farcical game of hot potato, Simon grabbed onto her hand. His intention was solely to make sure she got the message that the money was hers and nothing she could say would deter him. But what happened instead was that she instinctively grabbed his hand back, her fingers threading through his and sending a spear of lightning through him. The very air around them started to hum.
Although she held herself tightly, this time she didn’t pull away. Instead, she looked up at him. And there it was, all the softness she kept stashed away inside.
Something inside of him shifted. Something that threatened everything he’d ever believed. “There aren’t enough words to say how sorry I am.” His voice sounded gruff even to his own ears but, honestly, he couldn’t have cared less.
For a moment, he thought she might lean across the counter and let him taste her even if with the briefest touch. But then she yanked her hand away. “Rule number two. No touching.”
Should he remind her they hadn’t come to an acceptable resolution on rule number one yet? Probably not.
He pulled his hand back as well. Her cheeks went bright red. She stepped back from the counter as a tear rolled down her cheek.
He couldn’t stand to see her cry. And knowing he was the cause of it? He moved towards her but she froze and so he forced himself to stop.
“I hated you,” she said, her voice breaking.
“I know.” How could he blame her? He hated himself right along with her.
“You hurt me, Simon,” she whispered. “You made me want to believe in the magic of it all. And then you took it away.” When she looked up at him, the hurt in her eyes nearly slayed him. “Was any of it real?”
Every piece of him wanted to sweep her up into his arms, but he held himself stock still. It was for me, he almost said—had wanted to, desperately. But his overall goal hadn’t changed. He had to get her to agree to the annulment—again—without inciting her enough to go the divorce route instead. Maybe after that they could…
No. He couldn’t believe he even came close to allowing that thought into his head.
There was no future here for them, whether the feelings remained or not. His place was in England and hers was not. He had an obligation to his family that spanned centuries. He couldn’t risk all of that because of a weakness in his heart. “Please take the check.”
Though he didn’t miss the disappointment that flashed in her eyes, he was beyond grateful she moved past it quickly and glared at him instead. After finally relenting, taking the check, and putting it into her bag, she took a short, hard breath and pulled out a notebook. “I have a bunch of things lined up for us today. We should get going.”
She called for Jeremy to come join them and then she headed out the door. After answering Jeremy’s questioning look with a nod to indicate everything was fine even though it felt the very opposite of that, Simon shut off the kettle and followed after her.
10
Nicki’s heart was pounding so hard she was afraid Simon and Jeremy could hear it as they came down the hallway. She jabbed the button for the elevator hard enough for it to hurt. She couldn’t decide if she was angry at Simon for trying to pay her off, or touched that he was actually trying. And he truly did seem to want to make up for it. A $500,000 check? Yes. She got the sense he was being entirely honest about how he felt—and that he had no idea how to manage it.
To be honest, she was too. Of course, she’d been at a complete loss since the moment she’d met him so at least she was consistent. From the very night she’d first met him—even as she tried to pretend he was just a run-of-the-mill one-night stand—she felt like she’d been on a runaway train.
She was a short-term girl. She always had been. She was the queen of Vegas Bachelor Party weekend hook-ups and had never had a particular desire for anything more. Maybe it was because she herself was the product of a one-night stand, with the mother part of the equation walking out before Nicki was even a year old, never to be heard from again. Her father was a good dad—a great dad, as far as Nicki was concerned—but definitely more of the love ’em and leave ’em type and quite happily so.
When Nicki’s one night with Simon had turned into two, she’d sworn that would be all. She’d sworn it again after three nights and then after four. By night five she’d decided she’d give it a week. But by the beginning of week two, she’d stopped going back to her own place. By week three, they were officially engaged and then married, and she’d finally allowed herself to think she’d maybe been wrong about the short-term thing afte
r all.
Then he’d left her and his lawyers had scared the hell out of her, and she’d put him out of her mind as much as was humanly possible.
Since it wasn’t, actually, humanly possible, she’d also become a hermit since most of the men she’d met after Simon had paled in comparison. Okay. All of the men she’d met had paled in comparison. So she’d eventually stopped having a sex life altogether. Which was probably why she’d been thinking about kissing him for the past three days. And she also maybe had been thinking about kissing him just now—just leaning across the counter and planting a big one on his lips and seeing where it would go from there.
Thank God, she’d come to her senses.
Except then she’d gone and asked him if it had been real and he… And he hadn’t answered. And that had really sucked. Because she was pretty sure he’d wanted to—and pretty sure he’d been about to tell her it was real. And she could feel her hatred ebbing away. She could actually see herself forgiving him, and the desire to touch him just got stronger and stronger.
Damn it.
She jabbed the button again. Just a few more hours and she’d be home free.
She made sure to keep Jeremy between them in the elevator, and then bee-lined it to the valet stand where she’d tipped really well to make sure her car was waiting exactly where she’d left it.
Jeremy frowned as soon as he saw it. “We’re not getting in that.”
What was his problem? It was the Countryman edition. It had four doors. It was adorable. “You have another suggestion?”
“My suggestion is that you provide me with an itinerary and then we get in the Rover and go from there.”
It wouldn’t be the worst thing to keep Simon at a distance, that was for sure. She smiled at the valet who was holding out her keys. “That would work fine for me. Our first stop is—”
Simon snatched the keys out of the valet’s hand. “Feel free to take the Rover,” he said to Jeremy, all the while going around to the other side of the car—the driver’s side. “I’m going with Nicki.”
Nicki went over to the driver’s side, too. The man was not driving her car.
“That’s not a good idea.”
Although Nicki was thinking the same thing—she wasn’t sure if she was capable of sitting in such close quarters with him at the moment—it was Jeremy who’d actually spoken the words.
And Jeremy at whom Simon directed his irritation. “It’s a perfect idea.”
A wordless battle ensued, the two of them glaring at each other in a ridiculous staring contest. Shouldering Simon out of the way, Nicki bent down to open the door. His hand closed over hers. “I’ll drive.”
She turned to face him, which, as ideas went, wasn’t a good one, either, as it put her right up against him. She took a step back. Rather than do anything to help—Simon was in serious danger of getting a fistful of keys in a place where he’d feel it for days—Jeremy just rolled his eyes before shaking his head.
Nicki moved back the few extra inches between her and the car. “It’s my car. You’re not driving it.”
Her statement clearly didn’t sway him one bit. “I drive better than you do.”
“Because you have a dick?” A mighty fine one with some magical powers, but still.
Though she hadn’t intended that to be funny, he laughed all the same. Then his eyes grew a little too heated. Everything inside her started to tingle again; she willed herself not to let her gaze drop to his lips. Or, um, lower.
“No,” he answered. “Because I own three race cars and I’m trained in evasive driving.”
Well, la-di-da. “I’m trained in driving my own car. Plus, you don’t know where you’re going.”
He held his hand out for the keys. “I’d be more than happy to have you instruct me.”
Her thoughts immediately turned to instructing him to take off his clothes. His shirt, at the very least. She wouldn’t mind getting reacquainted with his tattoos.
There she went, blushing again. “Fine.” Whatever. She’d spent most of her time here in Santa Christa getting settled and had barely had a moment to enjoy the scenery anyway. And it meant she had him as a captive audience.
“So… Tell me about your mother,” she said once she’d handed over the keys and they were on their way. It would be a distraction, she thought, and better than thinking about how nice it was to look at him as he drove her car. As solid and strong as she remembered him to be, which was actually worse than his being so freakishly good looking. Pretty, she could handle; solid and strong melted her heart.
He took the turn off of Main Street. “She’s a little scary, actually.”
Shifting so she could face him, Nicki leaned back against the door. “How so?”
Simon frowned. “She likes to control people’s lives.” He glanced over at Nicki and then back at the road. “And, unfortunately, she has the power to do it.”
“Still? Aren’t you in charge now?” The car jerked a little, and he gripped the steering wheel tighter.
With a bitter smile he answered, “You’d think that, wouldn’t you? But she has her ways.”
Nicki couldn’t help herself. “Like what?” She couldn’t deny she was interested. After all, the woman was the reason Simon had left her, right? She didn’t want him back, but she’d also like to understand why he’d originally gone away.
It took Simon a few minutes to reply, but when he did, there was a cold detachment as he spoke. “I have an older sister. She was set aside from the moment she was born because she wasn’t a boy. My mother made her life miserable. She still does.” He gave her a tight smile. “Or the more blatant fact that my nephews and I get Christmas presents; my sisters and nieces don’t.”
That made zero sense. “But if your mother was able to inherit everything, why would it matter if she had a son or not?”
“Because she didn’t inherit the money or the properties—she just controlled everything until I became of age. It’s the way the will was written over a hundred years ago; only a son can inherit.” He slowed down for a cyclist to pass by and then took the turn up into the mountains. “She has to be nice enough to me for me not to cut her off, but I think she mostly hates me.”
He said it so matter-of-factly that it took a second for Nicki to fully comprehend his statement. Given her own lack of a maternal unit, she wasn’t exactly Rah Rah, Moms are Great. And, well, she wasn’t sure which was worse—disinterest or hate. But either way it was awful. Still, she was careful not to let her voice betray her. She wouldn’t want him to think she was too invested—or that she understood a little bit too much. “Family dinners must be interesting.”
“Quite,” he said. “It’s no different than it was for her.” He smiled grimly. But before Nicki could even think of what to reply, he asked, “So where are we going first?”
She decided to let him go with the abrupt change of subject. It clearly wasn’t something he wanted to talk about and Nicki didn’t see a need to push it further. Not when she really needed to keep things impersonal. Well, as impersonal as possible given that she now knew more about his family than she had after a month of being with him. She hadn’t even known he had sisters. But he did—nieces and nephews, too, apparently—all of whom he loved deeply, as was clear from the stories he told throughout the rest of the afternoon as they drove from place to place. He even bought souvenirs for them all and sent pictures from some of the stops along the way. It was charming and cute and it very soon became clear she’d taken a step in the wrong direction when they pulled back up Main Street at the end of the day and she realized she didn’t want to go.
Which was exactly what had happened after the first night in Vegas and what absolutely couldn’t happen again.
Which was what she told herself when he pulled into a parking spot a full block away from the hotel and shut the engine off before turning to her. He kept his hands firmly on the steering wheel but his gaze dropped down to her lips. Although he immediately looked away, it took him
a few seconds before he spoke, saying again, “Nicki. I am so… Sorry. I truly wish there were a way I could make up for—”
She had no idea what possessed her. One moment he was talking and then in the next she was kissing him. Clutching his shirt and pulling him towards her and placing her mouth over his.
He didn’t reciprocate at first; for a few seconds he just sat there, a statue cast in marble and stone. And then he suddenly surged forward, his hands tunneling into her hair as he opened his mouth, his tongue tangling with hers. It was as if no time had passed; as if he’d been here all along.
She pressed as much of her body into him as she could, her hand sliding up his shoulder to his neck, shuddering with pleasure as he groaned. He broke the kiss but only to drop his head down and nuzzle the base of her throat. Exactly how she liked it. He even dropped his hand down to her hip, his thumb sweeping up to the underside of her breast, so tantalizingly close to where she wanted his touch that she could barely contain herself.
She wanted his clothes off. She wanted to feel his skin against hers. She ached to have him buried inside of her, his touch bringing her to heights that only he had ever—
“Bloody…”
As it had that night at the restaurant, his hand went to the back of her head and he pulled her into his chest. She could hear the commotion behind her—the photographer protesting; Jeremy’s low, steady voice. But she could also feel the way Simon’s heart was racing just as fast as hers was, and she couldn’t quite find it inside of herself to feel regret. She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her heart almost bursting when he smiled down at her, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip.
“Naughty girl,” he said. “You broke rule number two.”
She resisted sucking his thumb into her mouth. “I guess I did.”
After just staring at her for a minute, he gruffly added, “This is when you tell me it’s time for me to go.”