Page 82 of Worth Every Penny
“Or he just wants to get his nuts off.” Marie looms over us as we sit at the table. “What about kidnapping her and sending her to the spa? Demanding that she have lunch with him? That was rude.”
“Or… romantic,” Elly counters, pronouncing ‘romantic’ like it’s an exciting word she’s just discovered. “He was trying to seduce her with the sauna and seabass.”
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” I blurt, and the two of them turn their shocked expressions on me. “I can make up my own mind about this. And I don’t need you two fighting over it.”
Marie folds her arms, a severe look on her face. “What about your dad? The company? Nico’s role in his death?”
A rush of unpleasant emotion swirls in my stomach. I’m putting my hormones and sex drive ahead of my dad’s memory and my career for the first time, and the reminder doesn’t feel good.
Marie must see the change in my expression because she winces. “Sorry.”
“It was a heart attack,” I say. “Not Nico.”
Holy shit.I can’t believe I’m saying this.But the words resonate with a truth they never held before; maybe Nico’s not the villain I made him out to be.
Marie nods, like she’s thought this all along. She’s a doctor, after all, and the death certificate says cardiac arrest. I find myself nodding too, like a few good orgasms can erase all the resentment I’ve directed at Nico over the years.
“I’m just urging caution,” Marie adds. “He holds all the cards here. He’s rich, he’s your boss. And we know he’s controlling. And, to top it off, he knows you’re crazy about him because you dropped all your sketches on the floor for him to see.” She waves a rigid arm through the air like she’s laying a rug over the ground.
“Are you trying to shit all over this?” Elly asks.
“I’m being realistic. I don’t want to see Kate get hurt.” Marie focuses on me, her eyes full of a pained compassion that’s hard to look at. It makes me feel pathetic. “By all means, have your office fling, but don’t start sketching him. That’s not healthy.”
“Got it,” I say, keeping my voice light. “Sex is good. Drawing is bad.”
Marie covers her face with both hands and groans. “Let him fuck you, but not fuck you over.”
The buzzer goes before her words have time to sink in. I leap to my feet, grab my bag, utter a hurried farewell, and rush downstairs and onto the street.
A blacked out Range Rover is idling outside the flat. Nico is standing on the pavement, talking to his driver through the open car window. I take a moment to survey him, all casual and sexy in his chinos and a pale blue shirt.
When he catches sight of me, he breaks into a full smile, so dazzling that I’m glad I’m wearing sunglasses.
He stalks towards me and reaches for my bag, which he takes in one hand before drawing me to him with the other and planting a soft, chaste kiss on my lips. “Morning, beautiful.”
Wow. Those are words I never expected to hear Nico Hawkston direct at me. A little happy spark ignites in my heart.
“Hi,” I reply, gazing up at him.
He opens the door for me and I slide across the leather seats. He gets in after me and at some point in the process, my bag disappears. A slick transition, as I glimpse the driver holding it before he closes the door after us.
My laptop is in that bag. “My luggage—”
“You don’t need it right now. It’s safe. I promise.”
I sit back in the leather seat, opting to trust him. I can’t very well tell him I’m bringing my laptop with me on our weekend away. I’ll look like a crazy workaholic.
Nico presses a button, and an opaque screen rises, separating us from his driver.
“Privacy,” he mutters, watching as it closes.
As soon as the screen clicks in place, we collide. His lips are on mine, hot and unrelenting, his tongue swiping roughly against my own. I want to swallow him, take every piece of him inside me. My fingers flit over his body like they don’t know where to land.
I suck his bottom lip as his hand cups my breast, kneading the flesh. His thumb grazes my nipple, turning it into a hardened peak beneath my dress.
All of a sudden, his touch disappears, stealing the warmth of his body. I open my eyes to see him shift back to his side of the car, his back hitting his seat with a thump. He tips his head back and stares up at the roof. His chest is heaving. “Fuck.” He mutters the word like a prayer.
Unease spills through my insides. “What’s wrong?”