For The Love Of Nick

7

DANIELLE FOLLOWED Nick in her borrowed car, doubting herself the entire way there. In fact, she didn’t even know where there was, other than they weren’t leaving Providence. She knew almost nothing about the man she’d somehow ended up trusting. Again.

Nick Cooper. It was still hard to believe. He’d been the most interesting person in her high school, not because of status, or jockhood, or that he kissed like absolute heaven. Which he did.

But because he hadn’t cared what others thought of him. It was a rare person who had that much confidence, and that he’d had it so young had really struck a chord with her.

He still had it in spades.

And he had something else that never failed to amaze her.

Kindness.

“Doesn’t say much for me,” she muttered. “That a sweet word and a light touch leaves me following after him like a dog.”

Sadie shot her a baleful glance out of her dark eyes.

“Sorry.” Danielle stroked the dog’s massive head. “It wasn’t just the kindness anyway.” She sighed and downshifted as she followed him into a town house complex that was very classy, very New England. “You might have noticed how remarkable-looking he is.”

Sadie yawned.

“Right.” They were on a secluded side street, lined with oak trees and wildflowers and groomed lawns. There were no fenced yards in sight, which probably meant dogs weren’t welcome.

Nick parked, and she stopped next to him, but didn’t get out of the car, not yet.

He came around and leaned on his passenger door, long legs crossed, hands in his pockets. Lazily, he thrust his chin toward the lovely two-story town house in front of them. “That’s mine.”

“It’s…nice.”

He shook his head and laughed. “You should know, you have a caged-in look about you.” Casual as you pleased, he smiled. “So why don’t you tell me what you think is going to happen up there?”

“Absolutely nothing.” She bit her lower lip. “Right?”

Pushing away from the door, his smile still in place, though now his eyes held a grimness she didn’t understand, he opened her door.

She expected him to pull her from the car. Maybe sidetrack her with another smile and a touch of his warm, strong hands.

She didn’t expect him to hunker down at her side, right at eye level and just look at her.

Staring in front of her out the windshield, she ignored him.

But unlike Ted, who’d always seemed to have a lot to say, Nick said nothing.

She fiddled with her seat belt. Touched her backpack. Chewed her lip. “What?” she finally demanded, her gaze whipping back to his. “What are you looking at?”

“You tell me.”

“I don’t want to play any guessing games here, Nick.”

“Funny. Me, either.” He set a hand on hers, over the steering wheel. “Come up. Get your pictures. Get some rest. The end. Can you do that?”

“Especially the end part.”

Now his smile reached his eyes. “That’s a girl. One step at a time, right? Let’s go.”

One step at a time. Easier than it sounded, but she got out of the car and grabbed Sadie’s leash. She hadn’t wanted to put him out, hadn’t wanted to be any sort of burden, but she’d already blown his obvious plans for the evening with the human Barbie Doll.

And as it had been all those years before, he hadn’t said a word to make her feel bad, not one. Hadn’t told her how stupid she’d been to get into this ridiculous situation in the first place.

Hard as it was to accept the help, after so many nights in the cramped car if he had so much as a comfortable chair for her to nap in, she’d be eternally grateful.

He led her through the small front yard. On either side, there were impeccable gardens. Grass so green and thick one could get lost in it, flowers of every hue in the rainbow.

In contrast, Nick’s yard was mostly brick, with two large potted trees.

“Low maintenance,” he said, putting his key in the lock. “I’m gone for long stretches. No need to keep killing pretty flowers with my neglect.” He gestured her in first.

But Danielle hesitated. “What about Sadie?”

“Does she have an aversion to being inside?”

“No.”

“Well, then, show her in.”

“She’s…” Danielle looked down at Sadie, knowing that while the dog was her own personal treasure, she was also not easy. “She can be a bit messy.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” he said dryly, waiting with that same calm patience he’d shown her since she’d first walked into the photo studio. The same calm patience he’d shown her all those years ago.

“Be good,” she whispered to the dog.

“Make yourself at home.” Nick took them through a wide, open living room sparsely furnished with light oak furniture, photographs from all over the world and the biggest couch she’d ever seen.

Covered in cushions, it was dark forest green and so inviting she nearly crumpled on it right then and there. Her body actually leaned toward it, begging, but Nick kept walking.

With an exhausted sigh, she followed, Sadie in tow, her toenails clicking on the hardwood floors.

The kitchen was light and airy, too. There was a basket of fruit on the counter that had her mouth watering. And a loaf of bread right next to it.

When had she last eaten? There’d been the burger for lunch, but nothing for breakfast…

Nick opened the refrigerator. “You’re in luck, I actually bought some food the other day. Usually this place is empty. What would you like?”

“The photos.”

“Yes, your pictures,” he said with the first hint of impatience in his voice. “But first, food. When did you last eat? What did you last eat?” He craned his neck and looked her over. “You look like a good wind could blow you over. Never mind,” he said in disgust when she just lifted her chin. “Good God, why would anyone ask a woman what she wants to eat? She’ll say nothing, and then just as likely eat everything on my plate. We’ll have soup and sandwiches,” he decided, talking to himself now. “Fast and filling.”

Pride warred with fierce hunger at the thought of hot soup and a big sandwich. “Do you always feed perfect strangers just because they look hungry?”

“We’re hardly perfect,” he said calmly, opening a can of soup, pouring it into a pot and putting it on the stove. Then he pulled out the sandwich fixings and started working, as if he were an old pro in the kitchen.

She tried not to notice how utterly sexy he looked concentrating at putting mustard on bread.

“And as for the strangers part…” He lifted his head and pierced her with a hot, intimate look that curled her toes. “I already told you. I stopped thinking of you as a stranger long ago.”

She forced her gaze back to the job at hand-food. His long, tanned fingers delicately placed lettuce on the bread. “High school was a long time ago.”

He nodded, his mouth curving in memories.

Helpless to resist the lure of the thick turkey he was now layering over the lettuce, she moved closer. “You…haven’t forgotten how horrible it was.”

“I’ve forgotten nothing.”

“I’ve never really forgiven myself for those days.”

“You sure enjoy paying for the sins of others, don’t you?” He leveled his timber-green eyes on hers while he brought his hand up and sucked a drop of mustard off his thumb. “It wasn’t your crowd I dreamed about.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” A smile grew. “Oh.”

She looked into his now-mischievous gaze, her heart catching at what she saw in it. “You really dreamed…”

“Oh baby, you have no idea how many fantasies you headlined for me over those years.”

She actually looked behind her. “Me?”

“You.”

“Well, that’s…” Thrilling. Tantalizing. Terrifying. “Disgusting.”

Still smiling, he looked unconcerned. “Most high school boys are. And I was all boy.” He went back to the sandwiches, adding cheese.

“You really had…sexual dreams about me?”

“Hmm.” He sucked his thumb again, closing his eyes, a fully sensual, passionate creature, enjoying every possible sensation. “Good dreams, too,” he murmured, his voice impossibly husky. “Did I mention I had a great imagination?” His gaze, scalding now, skimmed over her from head to toe, then slowly back again. “And even in my wildest dreams, I never, ever, put you together as good as the reality.”

He poured her a bowl of soup from the stove, loaded one sandwich on a plate, then dumped half a bag of potato chips on it. “Enjoy,” he said lightly, gently shoving her onto a bar stool at the counter.

He turned back to the cutting board and chopped up some turkey and cheese. Then he set it into a bowl and eyed Sadie. “Watch my fingers, dog,” he warned, putting it on the floor.

Sadie charged at the bowl, and Nick nearly fell over backward, trying to get out of the way.

Danielle would have laughed, except…he’d fed her dog. Unprompted. Just…fed her.

“Holy smokes,” he said, still staring at Sadie.

Sounds of Sadie’s chomping filled the air. Her tail beat the air as she swallowed everything in the bowl in two seconds flat.

“She likes her food,” she whispered through a clogged throat.

“She was starving,” he said, sounding horrified.

“No, she always eats like that.”

He continued to stare at her, carefully staying out of tail-wagging range, clearly realizing that it was a tail that could slice a man in two. “Wow.”

Danielle lifted her sandwich to her mouth, then nearly moaned at her first bite. She swallowed hard when he watched her, because there was just something about the way she received his entire, undivided attention that both unnerved and aroused her at the same time. “Nick…”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

He broke eye contact to get his own sandwich, and she took a good second look at him. And a third. Not because he was so beautiful he stole her breath-which he did-and not because she wanted him in a way that made her ache-though that was true, too-but because there was something…

Being thanked made him uncomfortable.

Having wolfed down his sandwich, he held up the film canister. “I’m going to go get this started.”

“Yes, but-”

“I converted the third bathroom into a darkroom eons ago. I’ll just be down the hall if you need me.”

“Nick-”

“Hold that thought.”

He didn’t want to be thanked. Well, fine. But then he needed to stop putting her in his debt. That wouldn’t happen until she left.

She’d go back to being alone. Back to her bone-weariness and fear. She’d go, and as quickly as she could.

She’d go, mostly because an inexplicable part of her didn’t want to.

WHEN NICK EMERGED from the darkroom, everything was silent. Far too silent for having a monster of a dog in the house. Curious, he walked through the living room to the kitchen.

Empty.

And clean, he noticed. She’d put everything away, including the bowl Sadie had used.

His deck was empty, too, and his heart picked up speed as he went back into the living room. If she’d left-

Stopping in front of the couch that he hadn’t even glanced at before, he let out a rough sigh, then squatted down to peer into Danielle’s face.

Her eyes were closed, of course, her lashes long and dark against her skin that was so pale it was nearly translucent. Her hair tumbled over shoulders that looked too thin and vulnerable to be carrying such troubles. In her sleep, she let out a soft sigh, a whimper really.

“Shh,” he whispered, and at the sound of his voice, she relaxed.

And just like that, his heart took a tumble. Almost on their own, his fingers lifted to scoop her hair from her face.

A low growl stopped him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured, not even glancing at the dog who lay at his feet. “I know. She’s yours.”

“I’m no one’s.” Danielle’s eyes opened, though not another inch of her moved. “I wasn’t sleeping,” she said defensively.

“Of course not,” he said easily, still sitting on his haunches, his face only inches from hers. “Because that would be resting your body, which, by the way, needs it desperately.”

“Did you develop the film?”

“If I say yes, are you leaving?”

“I need to.”

“Uh-huh.”

She sat up and pushed her hair from her face. “That was a loaded ‘uh-huh.”’

“Was it?”

“With a ‘you’re not rested’ in it. With a ‘you need a plan’ and an ‘I don’t think you’re being smart about this whole thing’ added in.”

He smiled, even though when she shifted, their knees brushed together. He could imagine her legs smooth and silky against his rougher ones. “You sure heard a lot in that one uh-huh.” He put his hand over hers. “Stay tonight, Danielle. Sleep in my bed. Alone-” he added when her eyes narrowed. “Get the sleep you need, get some more food in your system and your brain will be so much clearer for it.”

“What about your date?”

“You heard me cancel it.”

“Yes. I’m…sorry about that.”

“Funny.” He studied her even features. “You don’t look sorry. You look tired, and maybe a little out of sorts-”

“Gee, thanks-”

“But not sorry, not in the least.”

“Well, I wasn’t jealous or anything.” Her cute little nose thrust in the air high enough to give her a nosebleed. “Your time is certainly your own.”

“Certainly.” He bit back his grin and reached out, stroking a thumb over her arm, playing with the material of her shirt at the shoulder, then under, touching even more skin. Oh yeah, he liked her skin, and the way her breath hitched. He liked that very much.

“You could be having much more fun right this minute,” she said a little shakily. “I bet she…would have…well.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to…well,” he said, mocking her. “Not with her.”

“Any man with blood in his body would have wanted to.”

“Not me. Stay, Danielle.”

Her eyes locked on his, wide and searching. “I’ll still have to get out of town in the morning.”

“Yes.” He surged to his feet, pulling her up with him. She staggered a bit, and because he was a male, and a weak one at that, his hands nudged her and she fell against him.

He held her close, and amazingly enough, she let him, even leaned on him, just for a moment.

Then she pulled free, ran a self-conscious hand down her hair and avoided his gaze.

“Here.” He took her down the hall and showed her the bathroom. “Take a shower if you’d like.” She looked so grateful and anxious to do just that, it hurt to even look at her. “Then…” He opened his bedroom door, wincing slightly because he hadn’t made his bed or cleaned up his clothes from yesterday, which were scattered across the floor. Kicking as many as he could beneath the bed, he jerked up the sheet and blanket, and caught her smiling. “What?”

“You really weren’t going to bring your date back here.”

“Of course not,” he said. Muffy-Molly, damn it, Molly had offered her place. Not that it would have mattered. He’d never felt the need to change anything about himself or his house for others.

Though it didn’t escape him that if he’d known Danielle was going to be sleeping in his room, he definitely would have cleaned it.

Danielle laughed and, feeling a little left out as that laughter was clearly aimed at him, he put his hands on his hips and cocked a brow. “What’s so funny now?”

“It’s just that I pictured the two of you…”

“Pictured us…?”

Her face went a little pink. “She’s so pretty, you know, and wearing that dress, I thought you’d-”

“Drag her back here and ravish her?”

“Yes.” She shrugged and didn’t meet his gaze. “Yes. Exactly.”

She’d pictured that? It must have been quite explicit, given the color on her cheeks. Still, Nick had to admit, there might have been plenty of ravishing going on, if Danielle hadn’t come along.

But she had, and now he couldn’t even imagine being with Molly tonight, which disturbed him.

“Here.” From his drawer, he pulled a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. “If you need fresh clothes to sleep in.”

She hugged the clothes to her chest and stared at him with those gray eyes that fifteen years ago he would have happily drowned in.

But he was older now. Wiser. She shouldn’t have still gotten to him.

And yet she did, in a big way. “Good night,” he said gruffly, pushing past her.

But when he got to the door, she called his name.

Not wanting to look back, badly needing to escape, he put his hand on the wood and reluctantly stopped. Slowly he turned, catching her dark gaze. “Yeah?”

“I don’t want to take your bed. Please, Nick, the couch is more than fine.”

She had the same look on her face that she’d had at her prom. Surprise that he cared. Had so few people cared? It made his throat ache. “Take the bed.”

“Nick-”

“Take the bed,” he repeated, and shut the door.

Then he did as he did whenever he needed to clear his head; he went for a long, punishing run.