Heartbreaker

Chapter 9

Laurant’s car was a piece of junk. The carburetor was clogged; the spark plugs needed to be replaced, and the transmission was slipping. Nick was surprised they made it across town to the hotel.

He had made reservations from the rectory. They were registered under the names of Mr. and Mrs. John Hudson. They stopped by the reception desk to pick up their keys and then went upstairs. In the elevator he told her he’d had her clothes transferred.

"Very efficient of you."

"I’m an efficient kind of guy."

He stepped out of the elevator first, made sure the hallway was empty, then walked by her side down the long, red carpeted corridor. It was as quiet as a tomb. Their suite was at the very end of the hall. Nick inserted the plastic card in the lock and pushed the door wide.

"Did I mention we’ve got the bridal suite? It’s all they had available. Now Laurant, don’t go all awkward on me," he hastily added when he saw her expression. "You look like you want to run."

She forced a smile. It was awkward, but she was determined to get past it. "I’m too tired to run anywhere."

"Want me to carry you over the threshold?"

She didn’t answer. He finally gave her a little nudge to get her moving. She hesitantly stepped into the one-bedroom suite. She heard the door click behind her, and she felt a sudden pang of nervousness. This wasn’t the time to be embarrassed or shy, she reminded herself. Nick was standing right behind her. She could feel the heat from his body. She quickly walked away from him and looked around the living room. It was beautifully decorated in soft, soothing taupe colors. There were two chocolate chenille sofas facing each other with a black marble coffee table in between. In the center of the table was a large crystal vase filled with fresh spring flowers, and on the sideboard in front of the triple windows overlooking the plaza lights, was a silver tray laden with fruit, cheese and crackers, and a bottle of champagne submerged in a black onyx bucket of ice.

Nick was doing something funny with the door. He had a thin wire in his hand and was threading a loop around the door latch. On the end of the wire was a tiny square box about the size of a nine-volt battery, and after he twisted the wire around the doorknob, he turned the box, and a red light suddenly began to blink.

"What is that?"

"My own personal security system," he told her. "Jordan designed it for me. If anyone tries to get in while I’m in the shower or asleep, I’ll know about it."

He stood up, rolled his shoulders, and then suggested she get ready for bed. "I’ll use this bathroom, and you can have the one off the bedroom."

Nodding, she walked to the door separating the living room from the bedroom and then paused. There was a king-size bed, and the white comforter and sheets had already been turned down for the night. A long-stemmed red rose was in the center of the bed, and Godiva chocolate squares, wrapped in gleaming gold paper, were on two of the pillows.

"What’s the matter?" he asked when she continued to stand at the entrance.

"There’s a rose on the bed."

He crossed the room to see for himself. "Nice touch," he remarked.

He was just a foot away, leaning against the door frame. She couldn’t quite look at him when she said, "It is the bridal suite."

"Yep, it is," he agreed. "You feeling awkward again?"

"No, not at all," she lied.

"You can have the bed, and I’ll take the sofa out here."

She heard a loud crunch. Nick had just taken a huge bite out of an apple. Juice dripped down his chin, and he casually wiped it away with the back of his hand and offered the apple to her. She leaned over and took a much smaller bite.

The tension left, and he was suddenly her big brother’s best friend again. She headed for the bathroom, and while she was sorting through her overnight bag, looking for her nightshirt, out of the corner of her eye she saw Nick dive on the bed and grab the TV remote.

She stayed in the shower a long time, letting the hot water beat down on her shoulders until all the tension of the day eased away. She was drained by the time she finished blowing her long hair dry. She put on an extra-large Penn State nightshirt, slapped on some moisturizer, and then grabbed her tube of Chanel body lotion and went back into the bedroom.

Nick had made himself at home. He was leaning back against the pillows he’d propped against the headboard, his long muscular legs sprawled out in front of him with one ankle crossed over the other. He had changed into a pair of old frayed shorts and a white shirt. His hair was still wet from his shower, and he was barefoot. A small notebook and a ballpoint pen were on his lap and the television remote control was in his hand. He looked completely at ease.

There were complimentary robes hanging in the closet, but she’d forgotten to take one of them into the bathroom with her, and since he’d just given her little more than a cursory glance and turned back to the television, she stopped worrying about being prim and proper. She wasn’t scantily clad in a negligee after all. The nightshirt covered her from her neck to the top of her knees.

Nick didn’t take his gaze off the television. Outwardly, he was immobile, concentrating on the TV screen, but inside his thoughts were turning somersaults. When Laurant had stepped out of the bathroom, he’d taken it all in, those incredible long legs, the soft swell of her breasts under the thin fabric, her beautiful neck, her flushed cheeks, and that perfect mouth of hers. He didn’t think he could have been more aroused if she’d been wearing one of those lacy little teddies from the Victoria’s Secret catalog.

Oh, yeah, he’d noticed it all and in just under three seconds max. It had taken every ounce of discipline he possessed to look away, and honest to God, if she’d asked him what he was watching on television right now, he wouldn’t have been able to tell her.

He was a little shocked-and a lot disgusted-by his reaction to her.

"You’re just like my brother," she remarked as she stretched her legs out, tugged the nightshirt down, and then propped two fat pillows behind her back. Imitating him, she crossed one ankle over the other and began to twist the lid open on her lotion.

There was a lot of room between them on the king-size bed, but it was still a bed. Get over it, he told himself. She’s Tommy’s kid sister.

"What did you say?" he asked.

She was rubbing the pink lotion on her arms when she answered him. "I said that you’re just like my brother. Tommy always has the remote clutched in his hand."

Nick grinned. "That’s because he knows the secret."

"What secret?"

"He who controls the remote, controls the world."

She laughed, and that only encouraged him. "Haven’t you ever noticed how the President is always patting his vest pocket? He’s making sure the remote’s still there."

She rolled her eyes. "And all this time I thought it was just a nervous habit."

"Now you know the truth."

She put the lotion on the table next to the bed and slipped under the covers. She blankly stared at the television for a minute, but her thoughts were racing.

"Noah’s good at what he does, isn’t he? I know you told me that he is, but after I met him, I felt like I didn’t have to worry about Tommy any longer. Noah made me feel confident that he’ll watch out for my brother. Oh, I know he was teasing about all that kill-and-not-tell stuff… he was teasing, wasn’t he?" she asked.

Nick laughed. "Yes, he was."

"You told me that Pete uses him every once in a while, but that Noah doesn’t work for the FBI?"

"He does and he doesn’t. It’s kind of like being a little bit pregnant."

"There’s no such thing."

"Exactly," he replied. "Noah likes to think of himself as a free agent."

"But he isn’t?"

"No. Pete runs him."

She wasn’t sure what he meant by that remark. "And because Pete works for the FBI and Noah works for him…"

"He works for the FBI too. We just don’t tell him so."

Smiling, she said, "I can’t tell when you’re serious. I feel numb everywhere. Hopefully, in the morning I’ll be clearheaded again."

Tomorrow, when her thoughts weren’t playing Twister inside her head, she’d decide how to handle things. But for now, she was just too exhausted to think.

She fell asleep watching him watch the hockey game.