A Forever Kind of Love by Nora Roberts

Chapter 4

Nick smelled coffee and bacon the minute he stepped out of the shower. It should have put him in a better mood, but when a man hadn’t slept well, worrying over a woman, it took more than the possibility of a hot meal to turn the tide.

She had a lot of explaining to do, he decided as he stalked into his bedroom to dress. Out half the night with some guy she’d picked up at a bar. She’d been raised better than that. He had firsthand knowledge.

It was one of the things he counted on, he thought as he met his own annoyed eyes in the mirror over the dresser. Freddie’s family, the care and attention they devoted to each other. Every time he visited them, he’d seen it, felt it, admired it.

And he was just a little envious of it.

He’d missed that kind of care and attention growing up. His mother had been tired, and he supposed she’d been entitled to be, with the burden of raising a kid on her own. When she hooked up with Zack’s old man, things had changed some. It had been good for a while, certainly better than it had been. They’d had a decent place to live, he mused. He’d never gone hungry again, or felt the terror of seeing despair in his mother’s eyes.

With hindsight, he even believed that his mother and Muldoon had loved each other—maybe not passionately, maybe not romantically, but they’d cared enough to try to make a life together.

The old man had tried, Nick supposed as he tugged on jeans. But he’d been set in his ways, a tough old goat who never chose to see more than one side of things—his own side.

Still, there’d been Zack. He’d been patient, Nick remembered, carelessly kind, letting a kid trail along after him. Maybe it was the memory of that, the way Zack had taught him to play ball or just let him dog his heels, that had given Nick an affection and ease with children.

For he knew all too well what it was like, to be a kid and at the mercy of adult whims. Zack had made him feel as if he belonged, as if there were someone who would be there when you needed them to be there.

But it hadn’t lasted. As soon as Zack was old enough to cut out, he had, joining the navy and shipping off. And leaving, Nick acknowledged now, a young stepbrother miserably alone.

When Nick’s mother died, things had deteriorated fast. Nick’s defense against the loss and the loneliness had been defiance, rebellion, and a replacement of family with the edgy loyalty of a gang.

So he’d been a Cobra, he reflected, cruising the streets and looking for trouble. Finding it. Until the old man died, and Zack came back to try to pull a bitter, hard-shelled kid out of the pit.

Nick hadn’t made it easy on him. The memories of those days had a rueful smile tugging at his lips. If he could have found a way to make it harder back then, he would have. But Zack had stuck. Rachel had stuck. The whole chaotic bunch of Stanislaskis had stuck. They had changed his life. Maybe saved it.

It wasn’t something Nick ever intended to forget.

Maybe it was his turn to do some paying back, he considered. Freddie might have the solid base he’d missed in his formative years, but she was flying free now. It seemed to him she needed someone to rein her in.

And since no one else was interested in overseeing Freddie’s behavior, it fell to him.

He pulled his still-damp hair back and tugged a shirt over his head. Maybe she was just too naive to know better. He paused, considering the thought. After all, she’d spent most of her life snuggled up with her family in a little town where having clothes stolen off the line still made the papers. But if she was determined to live in New York, she had to learn the ropes fast. And he was just the man to teach her.

Feeling righteous, Nick strolled into the kitchen to begin the first lesson.

Freddie was standing at the stove, sautéing onions, mushrooms and peppers in preparation for the omelet she’d decided to cook as an opening apology. After a bit of reflection, she’d decided she’d been entirely too hard on Nick the day before.

It had been jealousy, she was forced to admit. Plain and simple.

Jealousy was a small, greedy emotion, she acknowledged to herself, and had no place in her relationship with Nick. He was free to see other women...for the time being.

Temper tantrums weren’t going to advance her cause and win his heart, she reminded herself. She had to be open, understanding, supportive. Even if it killed her.

Catching the movement out of the corner of her eye, she turned to the doorway with a big, bright smile.

“Good morning. I thought you might want to start the day with a traditional breakfast for a change. Coffee’s ready. Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll pour you some?”

He eyed her the way a man might a favored pet who tended to bite. “What’s the deal, Fred?”

“Just breakfast.” Still smiling, she poured coffee, then set the platter of toast and bacon on the table she’d already set. “I figured I owed you, after the way I acted yesterday.”

She’d given him his opening. “Yeah, about that. I wanted to—”

“I was completely out of line,” she continued, pouring already-beaten eggs into the sizzling pan. “I don’t know what got into me. Nerves, I guess. I suppose I didn’t realize how big a change I was making in my life, coming here.”

“Well, yeah.” Somewhat soothed, Nick sat and picked up a strip of bacon. “I can see that. But you’ve got to be careful, Fred. The consequences don’t take nerves into account.”

“Consequences?” Puzzled, she gave the fluffy eggs an expert flip. “Oh... I guess you could have booted me out, but that’s a little excessive for one spat.”

“Spat?” Now it was his turn to be puzzled, as she slid the omelet out of the pan. “You had a fight with Ben?”

“Ben?” She transferred the omelet to Nick’s plate then stood holding the spatula. “Oh, Ben. No, why would I? Why would you think so?”

“You just said—What the hell are you talking about?”

“About yesterday. Giving you a hard time after Lorelie called.” She tilted her head. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you letting some strange guy pick you up in a bar. That’s what I’m talking about.” Nick studied her as he forked in the first bite of his omelet. God, the kid could cook. “Are you crazy, or just stupid?”

“Excuse me?” All her good intentions began a slow slide into oblivion. “Are you talking about my going to the movies with a friend of Zack’s?”

“Movies, hell.” Nick fueled up on breakfast as he prepared to lecture. “You didn’t get home until after one.”

Her hands were on her hips now, and her fingers were tight around the handle of the spatula. “How would you know when I got home?”

“I happened to be in the neighborhood,” he said loftily. “Saw you get out of a cab at the hotel. One-fifteen.” The memory of standing on the street corner, watching her flit into the hotel in the middle of the night, soured his mood again, though it didn’t diminish his appetite. “Are you going to try to tell me you caught a double feature?”

He reached for the jam for his toast just as Freddie brought the spatula down smartly on the top of his head. “Hey!”

“Spying on me. You’ve got a lot of nerve, Nicholas LeBeck.”

“I wasn’t spying on you. I was looking out for you, since you don’t have the sense to look out for yourself.” With well-conditioned reflexes, he ducked the second swipe, pushed back from the table. His body moved on automatic, tensed for a fight. “Put that damn thing down.”

“I will not. And to think I felt guilty because I’d yelled at you.”

“You should have felt guilty. And you sure as hell should have known better than to go off with some guy you know nothing about.”

“Uncle Zack introduced us,” she began, fury making her voice low and icy. “I’m not going to justify my social life to you.”

That’s what she thinks, Nick countered silently. No way in hell was he going to allow her to go dancing off with any bar bum who happened along, and he needed to make that clear. “You’re going to have to justify it to somebody, and I’m the only one here. Where the hell did you go?”

“You want to know where I went? Fine. We left the bar and raced over to his place, where we spent the next several hours engaged in wild, violent sex—several acts of which are still, I believe, illegal in some states.”

His eyes went hard enough to glitter. It wasn’t just her words, it wasn’t just her attitude. It was worse, because he could imagine—with no trouble at all—a scenario just like the one she’d described. Only it wasn’t Ben she was breaking the law with. It was Nick LeBeck.

“That’s not funny, Fred.”

Much too wound up to note or care about the dangerous edge to his voice, she snarled at him. “It’s none of your business where I went or how I spent my evening, any more than it’s mine how you spent yours with Scarlett O’Hara.”

“Lorelie,” he corrected, between his teeth. It didn’t do his disposition any good to remember that he hadn’t spent the evening with Lorelie, or anyone else. “And it is my business. I’m responsible for—”

“Nothing,” Freddie snapped back, jabbing the spatula into his chest. “For nothing, get it? I’m above the age of consent, and if I want to pick up six guys at a bar, you have nothing to say about it. You’re not my father, and it’s about time you stopped trying to act like it.”

“I’m not your father,” Nick agreed. A slow, vicious buzz was sounding in his ears, warning him that his temper was about to careen out of control. “Your father might not be able to tell you what happens to careless women. He sure as hell wouldn’t be able to show you what happens when a woman like you takes chances with the wrong man.”

“And you can.”

“Damn right I can.” In a move too quick and unexpected for her to evade, he snatched the spatula out of her hand and threw it aside. Even as it crashed against the wall, her eyes were going wide.

“Stop it.”

“What are you going to do to make me?” Nick’s movements were smooth, predatory, as he stalked her, backing her into a corner. “You going to call for help? You think anybody’s going to pay attention to you?”

He’d never looked at her like that before. No one had, with all that lust and fury simmering. Fear lapped through her until her pulse was scrambling like a rabbit’s.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, trying for dignity and failing miserably as he slapped his palms on either side of the wall, caging her. “I said stop it, Nick.”

“What if he doesn’t listen to you?” He stepped closer, until his body was pressed hard against hers, until she could feel the wiry strength in it, just on the edge of control. “Maybe he wants a sample—more than a sample. All that pretty skin.” His eyes stayed on hers as he ran his hands up her arms, down again. “He’s going to take what he wants.” Now his hands were at her hips, kneading. “How are you going to stop him? What are you going to do about it?”

She didn’t think, didn’t question. Riding on fear jumbled with excitement, Freddie threw her arms around his neck. For an instant, the gleam in his eyes changed, darkened, and then her mouth was on his.

All her pent-up needs and fantasies poured into the kiss. She clung to him, wrapped herself around him and reveled in the wild flash of heat.

He was holding her as she’d always wanted to be held by him. Hard, possessively hard. His mouth was frantic as it took from hers. A scrape of teeth that made her head spin, a plunge of tongue that staggered her soul.

Desire. She could taste it on him. The full, ripe and ready-to-explode desire of a man for a woman. They might have been strangers, so new was this burst of passion and need. They might have been lovers for a lifetime, so seamlessly choreographed were the fast, frenetic movements of hands, of mouths and bodies.

He lost his head. Lost himself. Her mouth was a banquet of flavors—the tart, the sweet, the spicy—and he was ravenous. There was so much there—the scent and taste and texture of her, so much more than the expected, so much richer than dreams. All of it opened for him, invited him to feast.

He didn’t think of who they were, or who they had been. There was no thought at all, only a desperate leap of emotion that consumed him, even as he avidly consumed her.

More. The need for more slashed through him like a whip. He pressed her hips into the edge of the counter, then lifted her up onto it so that his hands were free to touch and take.

He heard her raspy indrawn breath when his fingers streaked under her sweater and closed over her. Then his own moan—part pain, part pleasure—when he found her, firm and soft, her nipples hard with desire against his thumbs, her heart pounding out an erotic rhythm against his palms.

She began to tremble. One quick shudder that grew and quickened until she was vibrating like a plucked string.

Shame washed over him, a cold gray mist over red-hot lust. Staggered by what he’d done, by what he’d wanted to do, he dropped his hands and slowly stepped back.

Her breath sounded more like sobbing, and her eyes, he noted, furious with himself, were glazed. As he watched, she gripped the edge of the counter for balance, and her knuckles went white.

“I’m sorry, Fred. Are you all right?” When she said nothing, nothing at all, he used his temper to combat the shame. “If you’re not, you’ve nobody to blame but yourself. That’s the kind of treatment you’re opening yourself up to,” he shot at her. “If it had been anybody but me, things would have been worse. I’m sorry I scared you, but I wanted to teach you a lesson.”

“You did?” Though her heart was still thudding, Freddie was recovering, slowly. Nothing she ever imagined had come close to being as wonderful, as exhilarating, as the reality of Nick. Now he was going to spoil it with apologies and lectures. “I wonder—” hoping she could trust her legs, she slid slowly from the counter to the floor “—who taught whom. I kissed you, Nicholas. I kissed you and knocked you on your butt. You wanted me.”

His blood was still humming. He couldn’t quite silence the tune. “Let’s not confuse things, Fred.”

“Oh, I agree, let’s not. You weren’t kissing your little cousin just now, Nick. You were kissing me.” Now it was she who stepped forward, and he back, in a reversal of the dance. “And I was kissing you.”

His throat had gone unbearably dry. Who was this woman? he wondered. Who was this devilish sprite with eyes full of awareness and knowledge, who was turning him inside out with a look? “Maybe things got out of hand for a minute.”

“No, they didn’t.”

The smile was entirely too smug and female. It was a look he recognized, and on another woman he might even have appreciated. “It isn’t right, Fred.”

“Why?”

“Because.” He found himself fumbling over reasons he knew only too well. “I don’t have to spell it out for you.” He picked up his neglected coffee and drank it down stone-cold.

“I think you’re having a hard time spelling it out for yourself.” Empowered, Freddie tilted her head again. “I wonder, Nick, what you would do if I were to kiss you, right now.”

Take her, he was certain, without thought or conscience, on the floor. “Cut it out, Fred. We both need to cool off.”

“You may be right.” Her lips curved again, sweetly. “I’d say you need some time to get used to the idea that you’re attracted to me.”

“I never said that.” He set down his cup again.

“It isn’t always easy to accept changes in people we think we know. But I’ve got plenty of time.”

She was standing perfectly still, but he could feel her circling him. “Fred.” He let out a long breath. “I’m trying to be reasonable here, and I’m not sure it’s going to work.” He frowned down at her. “I’m not sure any of this is going to work. Maybe some things have changed, and whatever those changes are, we don’t seem to get along as smoothly as we once did. If working together means risking our friendship—”

“You’re nervous about working with me?”

No button she could have chosen could have been more effective. Whatever he had made of himself through the years, there was still a remnant of the rebellious young man whose pride was a point of honor.

“Of course I’m not afraid of working with you, or anyone.”

“If that’s true, then we don’t have a problem. Of course, if you’re thinking you might not be able to stop yourself from—How did you so poetically put it? Oh, yes, sampling me—”

“I’m not going to touch you again.”

The gritty fury in his voice only made her smile sweeten. “Well, then. I suggest you make the best of the breakfast you’ve let get cold. Then we’ll get to work.”

He was true to his word. They worked together for hours, and he never made any physical contact. It cost him. She had a way, he discovered, of shifting her body, tilting her head, looking up under her lashes—all of which seemed designed to make a sane man beg.

By the end of the day, Nick was no longer sure he was sane.

“That’s good, good,” Freddie murmured, scanning notes even as Nick played them. “Someone with Maddy O’Hurley’s range is going to really kick on that.”

“I didn’t say this was Maddy’s solo,” Nick snapped. But that wasn’t the point, he thought. The point was that Freddie was reading his mind, and his music, much too clearly. He had an odd and uncomfortable vision of himself as a fish nibbling at the bait. And it was Freddie holding the rod.

“Maybe I was thinking of using it for the second leads. A duet.”

“No, you weren’t,” she said, calmly enough. “But fine, if you want to play it that way. I’ve got some ideas for lyrics for their number.” She slid him a sidelong look. “They don’t really fit this music, but I can adjust. Maybe if you pick up the tempo.”

“I don’t want to pick up the tempo. It’s fine as it is.”

“Not for the second leads’ duet. Now, for Maddy’s solo, it should go something like...‘You made me forget, today and tomorrow, if you—’”

Nick interrupted her. “Are you trying to tick me off?”

“No, I’m trying to work with you.” She made a quick note on one of the sheets of paper propped up on the piano, then shifted enough to smile at him. “I think you need a break.”

“I know when I need a break.” He snatched a pack of cigarettes off the top of the piano, lighted one. “Just shut up a minute, and let me work on this.”

“Sure.” With her tongue in her cheek, Freddie slid off the bench. She rolled her shoulders, stretched as he fiddled with the notes. Changing them, she noted, when they both knew they needed no changing.

He was fighting her, she noted, and realized nothing could have pleased her more. If he was fighting, that meant there was something there he had to defend against. Testing, she laid her hands on his shoulders and rubbed.

His system shot immediately into overdrive. “Cut it out, Fred.”

“You’re all stiff and tight.”

His hands crashed down on the keys. “I said cut it out.”

“Touchy,” she murmured, but backed off. “I’m going to get something cold. Want anything?”

“Bring me a beer.”

She lifted a brow, well aware that he rarely drank anything but coffee when he worked. As she stood in the kitchen opening a beer and a soft drink, she heard the quick rap on the door, the shout of greeting.

“You’re busted,” Alex Stanislaski called out from the other room. “For keeping my niece chained to a piano all afternoon.”

“Where’s your warrant, cop?”

Alex only grinned and caught Nick in a headlock. “I don’t need no stinking warrant. Where is she, LeBeck?”

“Uncle Alex! Thank God you’ve come!” Freddie dashed into the living room and jumped into his arms. “It’s been horrible. All day long, half notes, sharps, diminished ninths.”

“There, there, baby, I’m here now.” He gave her a quick kiss before holding her at arm’s length. “Bess said you were prettier than ever. This guy been giving you a hard time?”

“Yes.” She slipped an arm around her uncle’s waist and smiled smugly at Nick. “I think you should haul him in for impersonating a human being.”

“That bad, huh? Well, I’m here to take you away from all this. How about dinner?”

“I’d love it. Then you can tell me all about the promotion Bess was bragging about.”

“It’s nothing,” Alex muttered, causing Nick to stop playing long enough to look over his shoulder.

“That’s not what I heard.” The sneer was automatic and friendly. “Captain.”

“It’s not official.” Alex gave Nick a punch on the shoulder.

“Police brutality.” Since Freddie hadn’t brought it out, Nick rose to get his beer, and one for Alex from the kitchen. “He’s always had it in for me.”

“Should have tossed away the key the night I caught you climbing out of the window of that electronics shop.”

“Cops have memories like elephants.”

“When it comes to punks.” Comfortable, Alex leaned against the piano. “That was a nice sound you were making. You two really collaborating on this musical thing?”

“That’s the rumor,” Freddie answered. “Only Nick’s having a hard time splitting his energy between being my partner and my surrogate father.”

“Oh?”

“He trailed me on a date last night.”

“I did not.” Disgusted, Nick took a swallow of beer. “She has delusions of adulthood.”

A little wary of the vibes scooting around in the air, Alex cleared his throat. “She looks pretty grown up to me.”

“Why, thank you. Same time tomorrow, Nick?”

“Yeah, fine.”

“You can come on to dinner too, you know. The invitation was general,” Alex said. “Bess is calling in Italian.”

“No, thanks.” Nick set aside his beer and ran his fingers over the keys. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

“Suit yourself. Come on, Fred, I’m starved. I spent a hard day catching bad guys.”

“I’m out the door.” Deliberately she leaned over and kissed Nick’s cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

Alex waited until they’d gotten outside before he went for the subject. “So, what’s going on?”

“On where?”

“Between you and Nick?”

“Not as much as I’d like,” Freddie said without any preamble, and, since Alex merely stood there, stepped to the curb to hail a cab herself.

“Ah, are you speaking professionally, or personally?”

“Oh, professionally, we’re clicking right along. He should have something to take the producers early next week. Why don’t we take the subway?” she suggested after scanning the street. “It’s going to be hell catching a cab this time of day.”

He walked along with her toward the subway station. “You’re talking...personally, then?”

“Hmm? That’s right.” She smiled approvingly over at him. The dimming sunlight haloed around his dark hair, making him look, to her, like a knight just out of battle. “It’s so good to be here with all of you, Uncle Alex.”

“It’s good to have you. What kind of personally?” he asked, not allowing himself to be sidetracked for an instant from the subject at hand.

She sighed, but there was humor in it. “Exactly what you’re worried about. I love you, Uncle Alex.”

“I love you, too, Fred.” He hurried after her as she started down the steps to the station. “Look, I know you had a crush on Nick when you were a kid.”

“Do you?” Only more amused, she dug around in her bag for change.

“Sure, it was kind of cute. We all noticed.”

“Nick didn’t.” She let her change fall back into the bag when Alex pulled out tokens for both of them.

“So, he’s slow. My point is, you’re not a kid anymore.”

She stopped on the other side of the turnstile, put both hands on his face and kissed him full on the mouth. “I can’t tell you what it means to hear someone else say that. I really love you, Alexi.”

“I think you’re missing my point here.” Taking her elbow, he guided her through the crowd waiting for the next train uptown.

“No, I’m not. You’re worried that I’m going to do something that I’ll regret, or that Nick will regret.”

“If I thought he’d have anything to regret, he wouldn’t be able to play a tune for a month.”

She only laughed. “Big talk. You love him like a brother.”

His golden eyes went dark. “It wouldn’t stop me from breaking all the bones in his hands if he used them the wrong way.”

She thought it best not to mention just where Nick’s hands had been a few hours before. “I’m in love with him, Uncle Alex.” She laughed, shaking back her hair. “Oh, that felt wonderful. You’re the first one I’ve told. Dad and Mama don’t even know.” Her laugh leveled off to a chuckle when she saw that he was simply gaping at her. “Is it really that much of a surprise?”

He found his voice with an oath, then pulled her onto the train that had stopped at the station. “Now listen to me, Freddie—”

“No, listen to me first.” Since the car was full, she snagged a pole and held on as the train jostled out of the station. “I know you’re thinking I might not know the difference between puppy love and the real thing, but I do. I do,” she repeated, with such quiet conviction that he remained silent. “I don’t just love the boy I met all those years ago, Uncle Alex, or the one I came to know. It’s the man he’s become I’m speaking of. With all his faults, and his virtues, his impatience, his kindness and even his streak of mean. I love the whole person, and he might not know it yet, he may not accept it, or love me back, but that doesn’t change what’s inside me for him.”

Alex let out a long breath. “You have grown up.”

“Yes, I have. And I’ve had the very best examples ahead of me. Not just Mama and Dad, but you and Bess and all the rest of you. So I know when you love deep enough, and true enough, it lasts.”

He couldn’t argue with that. What he’d found with Bess only became more precious and more vital every day. “Nick’s as important to me as anyone in the family,” Alex said carefully. “Even you. So I can tell you that he’s not an easy man, Freddie. He’s got baggage he hasn’t tossed out.”

“I know that. I can’t say I understand it all, but I know it. Just don’t worry too much,” she asked, and took one hand off the pole to touch his cheek. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this between us for now. I’d like some time before the rest of the family starts looking over my shoulder.”

When Freddie returned to the hotel that evening, there was a message waiting for her at the desk. Intrigued, she tore open the envelope as she took the elevator up to her floor.

Inside, Nick’s handwriting was scrawled across a sheet of staff paper.

Okay, you’re right. It’s Maddy’s solo. I want lyrics by tomorrow. Good ones. I’ve scheduled a meeting with Valentine and the rest of the suits. Don’t mess up. Nick.

She all but danced to her room.

Two hours later, she was racing up the steps to Nick’s apartment. She knew he was working the bar, and she couldn’t be bothered with him. Instead, she sat at his piano and switched on the tape recorder.

“I’ve got your lyrics, Nicholas, and they’re better than good. Just listen.”

Primed by her own excitement, she sang to him as she played his melody. The words had been swimming in her head since she’d first heard the music. Refined now, polished, they melded with the notes as if they’d been born together.

After the last note died away, she closed her eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

She jolted, turning quickly toward the doorway, where Nick stood. He didn’t look friendly, she noted.

“Leaving you a message. You wanted the song done before your meeting. It’s done.”

“I heard.” And he’d suffered, listening to it, watching her as she sang for him. “Do you know what time it is?”

“About midnight, I guess. I thought you’d be busy downstairs.”

“We are busy downstairs. Rio told me you were up here.”

“You didn’t have to come up. I just didn’t want to wait until tomorrow.” Her nerves came rushing back. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough.”

“Well?” Impatient, she swung her legs over the bench so that she could face him. “What did you think?”

“I think they’ll go for it.”

“That’s it. That’s all you can say?”

“What do you want me to say?”

It was like pulling teeth, she thought, always. “What you feel.”

He didn’t know what he felt. She was somehow drawing him into areas he’d never explored. Never wanted to explore. “I think,” he said carefully, “it’s a stunning lyric, one that goes for the heart and the gut. And I think when people walk out of the theater, it’ll be playing in their heads.”

She couldn’t speak. She was embarrassed when she realized that her eyes had filled. Lowering them, she stared at her linked hands. “That’s a curve I didn’t expect from you.”

“You know the gift you have, Fred.”

“Yes, I tell myself I do.” Calmer, she looked up again. Her heart did one slow roll in her breast as she watched him. “I tell myself a lot of things, Nick. Things that don’t always hold up when I’m alone in the middle of the night. But what you said will, whatever happens.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her, hardly realized he was walking to her. “I’m going to take what we worked on so far to Valentine tomorrow. Take the day off.”

“I can start on the new apartment while I’m trying not to go insane from nerves.”

“Fine.” As if it belonged to someone else, his hand reached down for hers, drew her to her feet. The only light in the room came from the gooseneck lamp atop the piano. Its glow fell short of them, leaving them in soft shadow. “You shouldn’t have come back here tonight.”

“Why?”

“I’m thinking about you too much. It’s not the way I used to think about you.”

“Times change,” she said unsteadily. “So do people.”

“You don’t always want them to, and it’s not always for the best. This isn’t for the best,” he murmured as he lowered his mouth to hers.

It wasn’t frantic this time. She’d been prepared for that, but this time it was slow, and deep, and quietly desperate. Instead of revving for the storm, her body simply went limp, melting into his like candle wax left too long at the flame.

It was the innocence he felt, her innocence, fluttering helplessly against his own driving needs. The images that spun through his brain aroused him, amazed him, appalled him.

“I lied,” he murmured, and pulled back with difficulty. “I said I wouldn’t touch you again.”

“I want you to touch me.”

“I know.” He kept his hands firm on her shoulders when she would have swayed toward him. “What I want is for you to go home, back to your hotel, now. I’ll get in touch with you after I’ve seen Valentine.”

“You want me to stay,” she whispered. “You want to be with me.”

“No, I don’t.” That, at least, was the truth. He didn’t want it, even if he seemed so violently to need it. “We’re family, Fred, and it looks as though we may be collaborators. I’m not going to ruin that. Neither are you.” He set her aside, stepped away. “Now, I want you to go down and have Rio flag you a cab.”

Every nerve ending in her body was on full alert. But while she might have preferred to scream in frustration, she could see that his eyes were troubled. “All right, Nick, I’ll wait to hear from you.”

She started for the door, then stopped and turned. “But you’re still going to think about me, Nick. Too much. And it’s never going to be the way it used to be again.”

When the door closed behind her, he lowered himself to the piano stool. She was right, he acknowledged as he rubbed his hands over his face. Nothing was going to be quite the same again.