Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Nick pulled out of the hotel’s parking garage and activated the sound system. The opening strains of Eroica filled the quiet interior, the symphony Taylor loved.
He glanced at her. She’d leaned her head against the seat, her thick auburn hair cascading over her shoulders, eyes closed. When she first slid into the car, she’d murmured something about feeling light-headed.
The evening had gone better than expected. Taylor had been flawless, charming his business associates and stealing the spotlight with effortless grace.
And yet—Nick’s grip tightened on the wheel—Tony’s presence had been a sharp, unwelcome reminder that this woman wasn’t his. Not really. Had she meant it when she’d said she couldn’t wait for the engagement to be over?
His jaw tensed. He needed to stop thinking about it.
“I had a great time tonight,” he said, forcing his voice into an easy drawl. “You were wonderful.”
Taylor’s eyes fluttered open. She quirked a brow. “Does that mean I get a bonus?”
He smirked. “I might be able to throw in an extra ten dollars in this week’s check.”
“Scrooge.”
“Thanks for the compliment.”
“You’re not welcome.” But a small, playful smile tugged at her lips. “It really was a lovely engagement party.”
“The kind you’ve always dreamed of?”
A half-laugh escaped her, tinged with wistfulness. “Not exactly. I kept wishing my parents were there. Though… if they were, I wouldn’t even be in this fake engagement.”
Nick swallowed. Fake. The word had never sat well with him. “Sometimes,” he admitted quietly, “it doesn’t feel fake to me.”
Taylor stilled, then turned toward the window. Her voice was softer this time. “I know. Sometimes it doesn’t to me, either.”
His tension eased, just a fraction.
She chuckled suddenly, a husky, warm sound. “When Henry climbed on that table…”
Nick laughed. That had been a sight. Henry Waters, swaying atop an antique side table, a champagne bottle in one hand, a glass in the other.
“He’d have been fine if Claire hadn’t tried to yank him down.”
Taylor giggled. “I thought she was going to split that dress right up the side.”
Nick smirked. “Did you see the way she looked at Tony when he pulled her away?”
“Steam was practically pouring out of her nose.”
“She should’ve been grateful. Another second, and Henry would’ve landed right on top of her.” Nick gave an exaggerated shudder. “That’s a terrifying thought.”
Taylor’s expression turned thoughtful. “Claire’s a beautiful woman. I’m sure plenty of men wouldn’t mind rolling around on the floor with her.”
“They can have her.” Nick’s voice dropped a notch. “Now, you and I—” he paused, pulse kicking up at the thought “—on that floor? That’s a different story.”
Taylor fanned herself dramatically. “Is it stuffy in here to you?”
Stuffy? Not exactly the word he’d use. Sweltering. Tense. Downright torturous.
He studied her more closely and frowned. “You don’t look so good.”
“All of a sudden, I feel awful.” She pushed a button, lowering the window, letting the night air rush in. The breeze lifted her dark waves, revealing a far-too-pale complexion. “Can you pull over?”
His eyes darted to the road. Concrete on both sides. No immediate turnoff. “Are you going to be sick?”
“No. I don’t think so.” She took a slow breath, lashes sweeping down against her cheeks. “I just need fresh air. I’ll be okay.”
Not convinced. Nick made a sharp right and pulled onto a quiet residential street, easing the car to a stop.
“Taylor?”
“I’m fine. Really.” She gave a wan smile. “I just got dizzy. If you’re not in a rush, I might walk for a few minutes. Clear my head.”
Her hand trembled as she tucked her hair behind her ear, betraying how not fine she was.
Nick pushed open his door. “A walk in the moonlight,” he mused. “How romantic. Mind if I join you?”
Taylor hesitated, then nodded. “I’d like that.”
By the time he reached her, she was already standing in the grass, swaying slightly. But color was returning to her cheeks, a soft flush replacing the pale green.
“You’re looking better.”
She lifted her gaze to his, eyes glittering. Mischievous. Playful. Dangerous.
“You’re looking pretty good yourself.”
Nick took a slow step closer. “I had a great time tonight.”
“Me too.” A teasing smile played at her lips. “Do you remember when I was dancing with Tony, and you cut in?”
His stomach clenched. He remembered too well. One dance had turned into three, and before he could stop himself, he’d needed to have her in his arms instead.
“When you put your arms around me…” She bit her lip. “I had the strangest thought.”
His brow lifted. “Oh?”
“What would happen,” she mused, “if I put my arms around your neck—” her hands slid over his shoulders, warm and sure “—and kissed you? Right there. On the dance floor.”
Nick’s throat went dry. “Why would you have wanted to do that?”
She traced her fingers along his jaw, igniting something deep inside him.
“Because,” she whispered, “even though we don’t have a future, I’m attracted to you.”
His pulse roared.
“You’ve got great-looking eyes,” she continued, a slow, seductive smile curving her lips. “Bet you already know that.”
Her fingers slid into his hair, sending a sharp jolt through him. “And you’ve got really nice hair.”
Nick gritted his teeth, catching her wrist. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
She murmured in protest, leaning in, her breath warm against his lips. “Kiss me.”
“Taylor—”
“C’mon, Nicholas.” Her long lashes fluttered provocatively. “Just one little kiss.”
That was all it took.
With a groan, he yanked her against him, crushing his mouth over hers. It wasn’t sweet. It was hunger and heat and every single second of pent-up tension unleashed.
Taylor melted into him, arms sliding inside his jacket, fingers pressing into his back.
A voice shattered the moment.
“Hey! What’s going on out there?”
Nick’s head jerked up.
An elderly man stood behind a screen door, scowling, a very large German shepherd snarling at his feet.
Great.
Taylor tugged on his lapel, whispering, “Ignore them.”
The old man squinted. “You got five seconds to get off my property, or I’m calling the cops. This is a decent neighborhood.”
Nick swore under his breath. Well, when he put it that way…
“Time to go.” He nudged Taylor toward the car, ignoring her protests. He settled her into the seat, buckled her belt, then climbed in beside her and hit the gas, leaving the man—and his dog—behind.
The silence between them simmered.
“How are you feeling?” he asked finally.
Taylor sighed. “Dizzy.” Then, after a pause, “And a lot disappointed.”
Nick couldn’t agree more.
Neither of them spoke the rest of the drive.
When he pulled up to her house, she turned to him, eyes dark and unreadable. “Want to come in for coffee?”
He shook his head. “Not a good idea.”
“You’re right.” She sighed, unbuckling her seat belt, disappointment flickering in her green eyes. “Don’t you just hate it?”
Nick glanced at her “Hate what?”
“Doing the right thing.” She let out another sigh, leaning back against the door. “Sometimes I wish—just once-I could do what I wanted instead of being so…responsible.”
Nick’s fingers flexed around the steering wheel. He knew exactly how she felt. He’d spent years cleaning up his mother’s financial disasters, putting his life on hold to save a company teetering on the edge of ruin. He’d been the responsible one. Resentful. Angry. And, if he were being honest, he still was.
Taylor turned her face toward him, watching him through the dim glow of the dashboard lights. “Just once.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I wish I could be reckless.”
Nick swallowed hard. “If you weren’t so responsible,” he echoed, deliberately using her word, “what’s the first thing you’d do?”
A flush crept up her cheeks. She hesitated, her fingers curling into her lap, and he could practically see her debating whether or not to say it aloud.
Finally, her gaze met his. “There’s no point in talking about it. It’s not going to happen.”
Something unsettled stirred inside him.
“So, what now?” he asked, his voice quieter than before.
“Now, I go to my bed. And you go home to yours.”
Nick should have left it at that.
But instead, before he could stop himself, he said, “What about Tony?”
Taylor stiffened. “What about him?”
“Are you going back to him when this ends?”
A frown creased her forehead. “Tony’s my friend.”
Nick let out a rough laugh. “Claire used to be my friend.”
Taylor shook her head, clearly unimpressed with the comparison. “I don’t think we’re defining ‘friend’ the same way.”
Nick clenched his jaw. He wanted to push further, to ask her exactly what Tony meant to her. But he had no right. Not really.
To the world, they were engaged. But Tony probably knew her better than he did.
That thought twisted inside him.
They walked in silence up the steps to her front door.
Nick had planned to give her a light kiss on the cheek. Something brief, polite. A simple good-night.
But at the last second, she tilted her head?—
And the moment his lips met hers, he was lost.
Her mouth was soft and warm, and when she leaned into him, his arms tightened instinctively around her waist. The kiss deepened before he could stop it. Heat surged, wild and consuming.
Then, suddenly, she pulled back.
Her breath was uneven, her chest rising and falling with each ragged inhale. Wide green eyes met his, filled with something she wasn’t ready to admit.
“I’d better go.”
And before he could respond, she turned and disappeared inside, the door closing with a solid, definitive thud.
Nick exhaled a sharp curse and strode back to the Jag, yanking open the door.
With one flick of his wrist, the engine roared to life. He hit the accelerator, jerking away from the curb, the tires gripping the pavement too hard.
What the hell was he thinking?
Every fiber in his body warned him against her. Taylor was a woman with a house full of priceless antiques, a closet filled with designer clothes, and debts as high as Pike’s Peak.
Claire had hit the nail on the head when she said Taylor was just like his mother.
Getting emotionally involved with a woman like that made absolutely no sense.
And yet.
Even knowing all that, he still couldn’t help wanting her.
And that made the least sense of all.
* * *
“This might take more time than I thought.” Claire leaned forward in her chair, leveling Tony with a narrow, gleaming gaze. “How long can you stay?”
Tony considered his options. The only thing waiting for him in D.C. was the mountain of gambling debt his father had flatly refused to cover. No job. No prospects. No money—except for whatever Claire had promised. He took a slow sip of coffee. “As long as you need me, sweetheart.”
“Good.” Claire’s lips curved in satisfaction as she settled back against the burgundy leather. Even in broad daylight, with the silk of her chemise skimming her thighs, she looked every inch the predator. But to his disappointment, business was all she cared about.
“She responded to you,” Claire murmured, almost to herself.
Tony lifted a shoulder. “Told you she would.”
He knew Taylor had been glad to see him. But he’d also seen how her eyes had darted past him, searching for Nick—even while he held her in his arms. “She and I were always close.”
Claire tapped a manicured nail against her cup. “Just how close were you?”
Tony’s grin widened. “Close.”
Her eyes sharpened. “Did you sleep with her?”
Ah. Now they were getting to it. If he said yes, he had no doubt Claire would slip him a little extra for the effort. But if he lied? If she found out? He’d rather deal with the loan sharks.
He sighed, feigning regret. “’Fraid not.”
Claire’s expression darkened. “Are you lying to me?” Her voice cooled by several degrees. “Because if you are?—”
“Why would I lie?” Tony cut in quickly.
She studied him, suspicion written all over her face. “Maybe you’re protecting her.”
“I’m telling the truth, Claire.” He took another sip, letting the pause stretch. “But you’re right—I do want to protect her. That’s why I’m here.”
One perfectly arched brow lifted.
“Okay,” he admitted, exhaling. “I need the money. We both know that. But that doesn’t mean I want Taylor stuck with some jerk.” He leaned forward slightly. “If Nick’s as bad as you claim, then I’m doing her a favor. And if I happen to make a few bucks in the process?” He smirked. “Well, let’s just call that a win-win.”
Claire’s gaze flickered with interest, but Tony still felt like a sixteen-year-old nerd sweating under the scrutiny of the queen bee. He straightened. That kid was long gone. He belonged with the beautiful people now. He got the invites. He played the game. He knew how to win.
Still, Claire wasn’t letting up. “I can’t believe the two of you never fooled around.”
Tony shrugged. “Taylor’s saving herself for marriage.”
Claire blinked. “You’re kidding. She’s twenty-six.”
“Not everyone jumps into bed, Claire.” The words came out drier than intended.
Claire snorted. “No, just the smart ones.”
Tony shifted uncomfortably, hating that old, nagging feeling that he wasn’t quite good enough.
Finally, Claire exhaled. “Okay. First step—rekindle your friendship. Make her trust you again.”
She leaned in, a slow, predatory smile curling her lips. “Then? You break them up. It’s as simple as that.”
Tony groaned inwardly.
Simple? Not by a long shot.