for five days straight seems… well, excessive.”
“I’ve had out-of-office meetings. B.C. Adams isn’t my only investment, you know.” The fire in his eyes doesn’t match the cool detachment in his voice.
I put my cup of tea down harder than planned. “So you’re determined to pretend as if nothing happened?”
“Nothing did happen, Blair,” he says through clenched teeth. As if he can will it to be true if he says it enough times. But I’m not like that.
“Coward,” I toss at him.
Something clenches in his jaw. “See, this is why I didn’t want to have this discussion.”
“So you were avoiding me,” I say triumphantly. “You know, it’s not hard to say the right thing. You can take your pick. ‘I’m not interested, Blair.’ That’s possible. Or, perhaps, ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea, what with us working together.’ Do you want me to write the script for you?”
He steps closer, the smell of Nick and man and faint sweat hitting me. There’s not even a pretense of sophistication today—no suit or bowtie. It’s all roughness.
“Does there have to be a reason?” he asks. “Isn’t it enough that it’s not a good idea? That your big brother is in the same goddamn house right now and that I’d rather not lose his friendship?”
I wet my lip. His eyes dart down, both of us moving despite ourselves. “You really think he’d mind?”
“Oh yes.” Nick’s voice is black and heavy with insinuation.
“Well, then,” I murmur, “do we have to tell him?”
His hand reaches up and catches a strand of my hair between his fingers. My breath stops altogether, eyes locked on his. “Tell him what, exactly?”
“That we’re getting to know one another better,” I say. “After all, isn’t that what he’s always wanted?”
Nick’s lips curl into a sardonic smile. The expression sets my heart into overdrive. “I’m not sure that’s the way he intended.”
“So?” Brave or foolish, I don’t know, but I’ve lost the ability to control my actions. My arms wrap around his neck of their own accord, the warmth of his worked-up skin burning against mine. His hands come up around my waist—to push me away or pull me closer?
“You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy kissing me,” I murmur. “That much was obvious.”
“Well,” he says quietly. “I’d have to be dead not to enjoy that.”
And then I’m pressing my lips against his, and he’s groaning into my mouth, hands at my waist finally finding their resolve and pulling me closer. He’s big and sweaty and I don’t mind at all. If anything, it makes him feel even more overwhelmingly alive against me.
Nick kisses me back fiercely, the kisses every inch as powerful as the ones we’d shared in Cole’s study. They burn—they brand.
He breaks away from my lips with a groaned curse. “Fuck. You’ll be the death of me, Blair.”
I’m breathing too hard to respond. He pushes me away firmly, shaking his head. “Not here,” he growls. “Not now.”
The promise in his words makes my stomach tighten. Somewhere else, then. Some other time. I reach up to straighten my blouse, feigning more composure than I feel. Inside my chest, my heart is hammering.
We watch each other for a long moment. The smile on his face is gone now, replaced by an intensity I’m unused to. “I’m not sure you know what you’re asking for,” he says.
I look back at him levelly, thinking about the way he keeps people at a distance, at the words I’d spoken to him just last week. I’m sorry for caring, all right?
If someone would get hurt, it would be me. And yet… I find myself thinking that perhaps it would be worth it.
Steps echo down the hallway. With the grace of a large predator, Nick strides away from me, grabbing a discarded training bag from the floor. He disappears down the opposite hallway toward the guest bath before Skye returns to the kitchen.
She gives me an innocent smile. “All good here?” she asks.
I take a sip of my now-cold tea. “Yes,” I say, forcing my voice even. “All good.”
12
Nick
Never before had a woman’s lips so haunted me. Logically, realistically, I know they’re not different than others I’ve kissed. That what she’d been suggesting—getting to know one another better—was something I could find anywhere else. Why risk ruining everything by indulging in it with her?
And yet, my traitorous body wanted it more than it had ever wanted anything. Worse still was that my mind seemed committed to joining the mutiny. It circled back to focus on