Page 61 of Worth Every Penny
Nico notices my struggle, and his expression softens. “You really loved him, didn’t you?”
“He was my dad. Of course I did. He was the most wonderful, loving, kind man.”
Dark eyes meet my own, mirroring my emotion so perfectly that for a second I forget where I end and he begins. I’m consumed by him.
“I loved him too,” he says after a beat.
My body tightens as though his words are compressing me, forcing new, deeper emotions to the surface. The whispered confession is so close to one I’d dreamed of him making to me that a fierce choking heat rises up the column of my throat.I’m going to cry.
I shuffle sheets of paper into piles to keep my hands busy, to have something else to focus on other than Nico. But it doesn’t work. I’m painfully aware of him. His presence affects me like no one else’s, and an uncomfortable swelling sensation occurs within, as though his particular form of radiation is damaging my insides.
“Kate.” I keep moving the papers. “Look at me.”
I grip the sheet I’m holding so tight it crumples as I turn to face him.
“You’ve been crying.” Before I can move, his hand is on my cheek, his thumb stroking away the remains of a tear. It’s such a gentle gesture that it shocks me.
“No. I didn’t…”
“It’s all right.” He lets his fingers rest against my cheek, holding my gaze with those inescapable eyes. “I’d cry too if my mother said no one wanted to date me.”
His serious expression breaks into a smile and his eyes are so bright with mischief that, even though he’s mocking me, I laugh.
“Fuck you, Nico Hawkston,” I reply, shaking my head. “Your mother would never say that.”
His smile vanishes, plunging us into a moment that feels almost suffocating.
“Your mother is wrong.” His thumb slips down and skates across my lower lip, coming to rest right in the middle, tugging it down and exposing the underside.
What is he doing?My lip throbs, pulse beating right beneath his touch. It would be so easy to suck his thumb between my lips. And God, I want to. So much. I want to taste his skin again, and have some part of him inside me, in any way I can.
He stares at my mouth, his gaze so full of longing that I can almost see it surging across the small distance between us. His teeth rake over his full bottom lip, tugging on it. It’s sexy as hell.
“You tried to kiss me last night,” he rasps.
A prickling heat climbs up my legs, and a strangled affirmative sounds in my throat. Nico releases my lip so I can speak. “I was drunk.”
“Uh-huh,” he agrees, without looking away. “You asked me to sleep with you.”
“Again, drunk.”
He nods once. “So you don’t want those things?”
The question slides over my skin, trailing goosebumps in its wake. He leans closer, his breath warm against my cheek.
Please, kiss me.
Nico’s fingers press beneath my chin. His head tilts, his eyes fixed on mine, so dark and passionate I could drown in them.He’s going to kiss me. I know it in every part of my body. Nico Hawkston is going to kiss me.
I close my eyes and lean towards him, but his hand falls from my face, and I startle, opening my eyes to find him looking at me with concern.
“Do you want me to take you home?” he asks.
What?My insides tighten, my mind whirring to catch up to the shift in gear. “Now?”
With one word, I’ve exposed a host of emotion: disappointment, shock, outrage, disbelief.
Nico ignores all of it. “If you don’t want to stay, I can drive you back to London. It’ll be after midnight by the time we get home, though.”