“Thank you for the driving lesson, the show and dinner.”
“We need to get an earlier start tomorrow.” He moved forward.
She retreated. Avoiding him was still her number one priority—especially after the understanding he’d shown tonight both during the driving lesson and when she had to leave the play. His compassion was eroding her defenses.
“Lucas, as much as I appreciate your help, I know you must have to work. Your businesses, whatever they are, can’t run by themselves. I’ll reengage the car company my father hired and finish the lessons.”
And she would. Later. Thanks to Lucas getting her past her initial fear, she believed she’d eventually be able to get a driver’s license at some point in the future. But not on busy Dallas roads. Best postpone the whole deal until she returned to Miami.
“Not necessary. I’ve got you covered.” He advanced. The look of intent in his eyes sprouted goose bumps under her skin and doubled her pulse rate. Did he consider this a date and expect the traditional ending?
If so, she had to keep that from happening. She backed deeper into the apartment. “It’s late. You need to go. Thank you again. Good night.”
“Not yet.” He captured her hand, dragged her into the living room and sat on the sofa. He tugged her down beside him. “Tell me what you did after the accident.”
She did not want to have this conversation, but apparently giving him the postcard version was the only way to get rid of him. “I went to college. In the summers I worked for KCL.”
“Doing what?”
“I worked on Crescent Key.”
“The private island the cruise ships use?”
He shifted and his hot, hard thigh pressed hers. His lock on her wrist kept her from escaping. “Yes.”
“Doing what?”
She tried to block the memories of being pressed against him without the hindrance of clothing. “I led kayaking and snorkeling excursions or filled in wherever else I was needed.”
“Pretty good for a first job.”
“Yes. You know Daddy wouldn’t let me work before I turned eighteen.”
“Nor did you want to.”
“Well, no.” Having a job had never occurred to her before she’d met Lucas. Why would it? She’d had more money than she could spend. But she’d been prepared to work after they’d married. She’d known Lucas couldn’t afford for her not to. But she’d planned to get a job in a chic clothing shop.
Had he leaned closer? She arched her back to escape, but he pulled her forward and lowered his head. His mouth took hers before she could protest or evade him.
The kiss slammed into her like a rogue wave, towing her under in seconds. Under a deluge of memories. Under a somersaulting swirl of sensation. Under the spell he’d always been able to cast over her with no apparent effort. She clutched his upper arms to push him away, but ended up clinging for balance.
He didn’t kiss the way he used to. Eleven years ago Lucas’s kisses had been passionate, but teasing and tempting, luring her into love play. Tonight he kissed like a man on a mission to destroy each of her reservations.
And he was doing a damned fine job.
Pull away.
The contrast between the softness of his lips and the firm confidence in his possession robbed her of the ability to comply with the simplest of commands.
One arm tightened around her waist, bringing her torso flush with his hard body. His other hand grazed up her side and her neck to cradle her jaw and tilt her head for deeper penetration. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and nipped gently, sending shock waves of arousal through her. The hot, slick, wet sweep of his tongue against hers dragged a hungry whimper from her throat and stirred a whirlpool of want in her midsection.
His taste filled her mouth, his scent her nose, and his big body seemed to surround her, making her feel protected and desired. Just like the old days. She fit against him as if she never should have left.
She’d missed this.
Her heart clamored out an SOS, her muscles weakened and her head spun. She clung to him because she couldn’t possibly imagine doing anything else. His five o’clock shadow rasped her chin. Her fingers tightened and relaxed on his biceps like a cat’s kneading paws. She couldn’t help herself. She needed to touch him.
He shifted, laying her back on the cushions and following her down. His erection lengthened and thickened against her hip. And she wanted him. As much as she’d ever wanted anything. Maybe even more. But she couldn’t have him. Not now. Not ever again. Because nothing was the same.
Nothing could ever be the same.
She ripped herself from his arms, sprang to her feet beside the sofa and pressed her fingertips to her mouth. She backed away. She stumbled over something and struggled for balance. Lucas stood and caught her, his grip firm on her elbows. She regained her footing, jerked free and looked down. Her purse. She didn’t even remember dropping it beside the sofa.
That was twice she’d almost fallen and he’d had to catch her. He kept her off balance mentally and physically. She had to be more careful around him or she was going to end up falling again. For him.
One glance at his desire-flushed face and passion-darkened eyes and a fresh wave of hunger swelled inside her. She had to look away and covered the action by bending and snagging the straps of her handbag. She slapped it down on the coffee table, marched for the front door and yanked it open. She focused on his left shoulder as he approached rather than his too-sexy face.
“I can’t—I won’t do this, Lucas. Please leave.”
“You want me as much as I do you.”
His husky tone made her n**ples tighten. “I’ve learned the hard way that I can’t have everything I want. Sometimes what I want isn’t good for me.”
Silence ticked between them.
“I’ll see you in the morning, Nadia. Sleep well.”
The second the door closed behind him she sagged in relief that he hadn’t argued or tried to change her mind. She wasn’t up for that—especially when she’d be fighting herself as much as him. And she wasn’t sure who’d win.
But one thing was certain. This marriage was a no-win situation and she had to get out of it. Lucas had taken money to hurt her.
And she was damaged goods.
“Excuse me.”
The hushed voice pulled Nadia’s attention from the stack of fashion magazines on the library table in front of her early that Friday afternoon.
“Yes?”
A petite salt-and-pepper-haired fiftyish woman stood beside her. Her glasses hung from a beaded chain around her neck. “Are you Nadia Kincaid?”
Nadia ignored years of ingrained caution and welcomed the interruption because the magazines weren’t doing a good job of distracting her from the fact that her brother was getting married today, and she couldn’t be there because she couldn’t leave Dallas.
Damn you, Daddy.
Rand had promised to figure out a way to stream video of the ceremony through her computer tonight so she could “see” Mitch marry Rhett’s aunt—a woman Nadia had never even met.
“Yes. I’m Nadia Kincaid.”
“I thought I recognized you from your picture in a tabloid I found this morning.”
Nadia fought the urge to shift in her chair. Her cheeks warmed. People were strange. She was no celebrity, but she’d been asked for her autograph before. It was a little weird, a little embarrassing, but it wouldn’t cost her anything but time…of which she had a surplus since she was still avoiding Lucas until the last possible moment tonight. “Can I help you?”
“I’m hoping you can. Because you see…” The woman looked over each shoulder and leaned closer. “I read that rag before I recycled it.”
Uh-oh. Was she going to get thrown out? And what crazy story had the tabloid “reporters” fabricated this time? She hadn’t given them any ammunition to crucify her with lately.
“I’m Mary Branch, the head librarian here. The article says you orchestrated a fund-raiser for premature babies last spring in Miami and raised a record-breaking amount.”
Tension relaxed its grip on Nadia’s muscles and pride filled her with warmth. “Yes, I did.”
She’d donated her time and her expertise at finding unusual, hard-to-get items for the auction because some preterm babies stood a chance. Hers never had.
“Our library fund-raiser chair stepped down unexpectedly this morning. Since I saw you in here yesterday and again today, I’m hoping you’ll be in Dallas long enough to give us a few pointers…or whatever expertise you can spare. We’re floundering without a leader. It’s too late to cancel the event, not that we can afford to. The fund-raiser supports most of our programs throughout the year.”
Since finding creative solutions to problems was her thing, Nadia couldn’t help but be intrigued. “When is your event?”
“Three weeks.”
Three weeks and they were a ship without a captain? Big challenge. “How much is left to be done?”
“I don’t know. I have Sue Lynn’s notes in my office. I could show them to you. If you’re interested in the job, that is.”
How many times would her father’s stupid last requests come back to bite her? “I’d really love to help you in any way I can. But I can’t accept paid employment because I’m on a leave of absence from my other job. However, I can volunteer my time.”
“Your generosity warms my heart, honey. It’s an absolute miracle to find someone with your expertise at such short notice. Would you like to take a look at those books?”
“Certainly.” Nadia rose, a sense of purpose energizing her as she gathered her belongings.
The offer was the answer to her prayers. Helping with the fund-raiser would relieve her boredom and give her a legitimate reason to be out of the apartment and avoid Lucas Stone.
But most of all, it would give her a really good reason to stay in Dallas and something to think about besides her risen-from-the-dead husband—and the very good chance she would fail her brothers.
Six
“I don’t care how hard it is to get,” Lucas told his lawyer over the phone. “I want a copy of Everett Kincaid’s will. Obtain it by any means necessary short of breaking in and stealing it.”
A knock on his door surprised him. Nadia. It couldn’t be anyone else. Security had buzzed him the minute she’d entered the express elevator. That she was seeking him out this time instead of making him hunt her down accelerated his heart rate and sent anticipation surging through him.
“I have to go. Call me when you have what I need.” He disconnected.
Last night’s kiss had made him more determined than ever to get his wife back in his bed. She wanted him. He’d tasted it on her lips, felt it in the melting of her body against his and the way her pulse had fluttered beneath his thumb. That’s why he’d had her followed this morning. He’d needed to know where she was going and who she was seeing. He didn’t play for keeps, but neither did he share his women when he was in a relationship.