From This Moment On Part 4

It was a reminder that this was just small talk between two strangers who were never going to see each other again. She shouldn't be upset that he didn't want to tell her where he worked. He was probably afraid she'd hunt him down and become a big nuisance. No doubt plenty of girls had tried to latch onto him over the years.

Besides, she wasn't exactly gung-ho about sharing a bunch of details about her life with him, was she?

Nearly as vague as he'd been, she said, "I'm from a teeny, tiny little town in upstate New York, but I've always loved the west coast."

There. That was perfectly impersonal. They were both behaving like two rational adults who had almost made the mistake of having a one-night stand, but had somehow slipped out of the night unscathed.

She should be happy.

But she wasn't.

Because for a few wonderful minutes the previous night, she'd reveled in irrational, unfettered desire and antic.i.p.ation.

Rational sucked by comparison.

She swiveled on her stool to face him more directly. "I'm still really embarra.s.sed about calling your mother like that."

The last thing she expected was for his laughter to rumble through the room.

It was such a beautiful sound-rich and deep, if a bit rusty-that she had a sudden vision of capturing it like the sea witch had Ariel's voice in the Little Mermaid movie, in a little locket she could wear around her neck and take out to replay whenever she needed a pick-me-up.

"Trust me," he told her, "I'm sure she enjoyed talking with you. A great deal."

"What are you going to tell her?" She quickly clarified, "About me, I mean, and the question I asked her about you."

"If you were safe with me?"

Her breath left her in a whoosh and it was all she could do just to nod as the sensual tension between them jumped up a notch.

But instead of dropping it, she said, "I was safe with you," barely above a whisper. Almost before she realized it, she was reaching out to touch his hand, only inches away.

She wished she'd been awake for long enough to really appreciate his holding her hand. Instead, she'd slept through some of the most wonderful moments of her life-Marcus's hands holding hers, his warmth cradling her.

Now, as the sunlight streamed in through the large kitchen windows of his brother's house, she pulled her hand back barely an inch before she would have made contact.

"What do you want me to tell her?"

She lifted her eyes from his large hands, hands she still couldn't stop wishing were holding her, caressing her, and despite the warm sun coming in, a shiver went through her as she looked up at him.

"Maybe," she said slowly, "you could tell her you made a new friend last night."

"A new friend."

As her words came back at her in his deliciously low voice, she thought, I wish it were actually true. I wish we actually were friends. And more. So much more.

She licked her lips and his eyes followed the path of her tongue. When his gaze met hers again, the heat from the night before was back in spades.

She knew he had to see it in her gaze, too. A part of her thought she should try to hide it, but nothing had changed between last night and this morning. She was still senselessly attracted to him.

On the verge of saying something else to try and break the sensual tension between them, she suddenly wondered why she was so intent on pushing him away. Marcus was gorgeous, the best-looking man she'd met in forever. Okay, so last night hadn't worked out, but she was in town for several more.

Oh G.o.d, she was terrible at this, didn't have the first clue how to proposition Marcus for the second time in twenty-four hours. Last night, she'd been able to play off the loud music, the dark lighting, her leather dress and heels. But sitting here in a kitchen drinking coffee in an oversized sweatshirt...she had none of those s.e.xy trappings to help her find her way.

The thing was, she already knew she'd regret it like crazy if she walked away from Marcus without even trying.

One night. She deserved one night with a guy like this, didn't she? Just because she'd blown last night by falling asleep, didn't mean she should give up. If that had been how she'd approached the music business, she never would have gone beyond playing open mics at coffee shops.

Of course, she'd have to tell him who she was if he agreed to another night with her. Heck, she knew she needed to tell him anyway. How unfair would it be to him if he walked out of here and got a call from one of his friends or family asking him why he'd been holding out on them about being Nico's newest flame?

Not looking forward to that part of the conversation one bit, she decided to lead with, "I'm going to be in the city for a few more nights." She picked up her cup again and gulped the rest of the coffee.

His expression was unreadable. She didn't have the first clue what he was going to say to her proposition. But she knew she needed to make it anyway, or forever brand herself a coward.

Her throat felt tight and dry as she said, "I've got to get going in a few minutes, but I was wondering if maybe you'd like to try and get together tonight?"

She swore she saw heat flare in his eyes, the heat neither of them had been able to bank. Oh please, please, please let him say yes! Because now that she'd put herself out there, now that she'd admitted what she wanted-him!-she couldn't stand the thought of not getting it.

"How old are you, Nicola?"

"Twenty-five." She tried not to say it defensively.

"I'm thirty-six." He pushed off his stool and picked up both coffee cups as he headed for the sink. "I shouldn't have been in that club last night." His shoulders were tense as he explained, "I was angry about something and I thought I could get over it by going to a club and taking someone home for s.e.x."

It was the first time either of them had used the word.

s.e.x.

One syllable, three little letters, sizzled between them. And, oh, it made her want him more than ever, even though he was trying to use the word to back away from her, trying to set up reasons why they couldn't have their night.

Her parents had always said what a stubborn child she'd been, and nothing had changed for her as an adult. If anything, her experiences in the music business, dealing with almost constant rejection and having to bounce back from it, had only made her more stubborn.

"I had my reasons, too," she told him. Only, those reasons had changed. Last night had been all about getting something everyone already thought she had.

This morning she didn't care about anyone else, didn't give a fig for what a bunch of strangers thought about her. Now her reasons were all about wanting Marcus entirely for herself.

"Even if I weren't too old for you-"

Nicola cut him off. "We're both adults."

He looked at her, head to toe, and she knew he was taking in the too-big sweatshirt that went past her knees. Despite the fact that she knew she looked really, really young with no makeup on, she lifted her chin and said, "You thought I looked plenty old enough last night."

His jaw tightened. "Last night was a mistake. And if you hadn't fallen asleep it would have been a truly huge mistake."

Wow. That hurt.

She had to turn away from him on the stool and scoot off so that he wouldn't see just how bad his words had made her feel. She'd thought she was a pro at letting rejection just bounce right off her. Turned out she had a long way to go, if only a few words from Marcus could make her feel like crumbling inside.

"Nicola."

She didn't turn around to face him when he said her name, didn't stop heading for the couch where she hoped her shoes and purse were. She stripped off the sweatshirt while she walked, wanting nothing more than to just leave, to get the heck out of the house and drown herself in work, the work she'd been drowning in for the past six months.

She was just bending down to pick up her shoes when Marcus beat her to them.

"It's not your fault. Nothing that did or didn't happen is your fault."

She held out her hand and willed it not to shake. "Can I have my shoes, please?"

For a few seconds, she wasn't sure he was going to give them to her, but then, he finally handed them over.

She made sure their fingertips didn't touch as she took them from him, then sat down on the edge of the coffee table to slip them on. Somehow she was going to keep it together long enough to sweep out of the house like a woman who couldn't care less if one man found her attractive or not. There were plenty of others who wanted her. One day, when she was feeling stupid and reckless again, she would find one of them.

"You're beautiful, Nicola."

She'd been certain nothing he could have said would have stopped her from stomping out of there.

Nothing but that.

"When you were sleeping last night, I couldn't stop thinking how beautiful you are. I can hardly believe you came home with me last night." He ran his hand over his face. "I shouldn't be telling you that, but it's so d.a.m.n true, I can't let you think otherwise. Last night I told myself I could sleep with a stranger and not worry about your feelings." His eyes caught hers and held them fast. "I don't know a lot about you, but you don't feel like a stranger anymore, Nicola."

A flicker of hope lit in her chest. "Neither do you," she said softly.

This time, when she instinctively reached out for his hand, she let herself make it all the way there. She slipped her fingers through his and that contentment she'd felt when she'd woken up on his lap, with her hands in his, filled her again.

"You're right, we don't know each other very well yet, but I already know you make me feel good. And I also know you were the perfect gentleman last night." She pulled herself up to stand in front of him, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s close enough to his chest to almost touch. "If we gave the night one more try, then maybe this time we could see what it's like when you're not the perfect gentleman anymore?"

Desire flared even hotter in his eyes than it had before and she could feel the evidence of it against her lower body when she shifted even closer to him.

"I just got out of a relationship. I'm not looking for another one."

Ah. So that was what had him going to the club last night to pick up some hot thing to screw silly.

"I'm not looking for a relationship either," she told him firmly. "I swear I'm not." She put his hand on her hips. "Just one night to feel what it's like to be touched by you." She went up on her tippy-toes in her heels to gain an extra inch and be a breath away from his mouth. "Just one night to know what it's like to be kissed by you."

She could almost taste his kiss, knew how much he wanted to lean into her and take what she was offering. Her eyes were closing and she was puckering up when suddenly cold air rushed across her as he quickly let go of her and stepped away.

"It would be better for both of us if we didn't go there."

Anger and embarra.s.sment caught her in their grip. "You don't know enough about me to know what would be better for me!"

And, frankly, she was too p.i.s.sed off now to want to tell him about who she really was. He'd just have to find out the hard way, by turning on his computer or opening a magazine and seeing the pictures in full Technicolor.

"You're right." A muscle jumped in his jaw. "All I know is that you're beautiful, and that you're too young, too sweet, for me to even think about doing any of that with you. I made a mistake last night and I won't compound it now."

Young.

Sweet.

Mistake.

She was going to throw up.

Here she'd thought she was going to regret not getting up the nerve to ask him to be with her for the night. What an idiot she'd been, how sure she must have been that he'd jump at the chance to be with her again.

Because when was the last time anyone had turned Nico down?

Well, she wasn't a famous pop star right now. She was simply a woman who wanted a man.

A man she evidently couldn't have. Because all she was to him was a way-too-young, far-too-sweet mistake.

Turning from him, she pulled her cell phone out of her bag and called for a cab, giving the driver the address she remembered Marcus saying the night before. After hanging up, she was sorely tempted to storm out of the house like the little girl he thought she was. Lord knew, it would be so much harder to hold her head high like a mature woman and take her lumps.

But that was what she was going to do, d.a.m.n it.

Turning back to him with a fake smile, she politely said, "Thank you for not taking advantage of me last night."

That muscle jumped in his chiseled jaw again. "You don't have anything to thank me for."

She shrugged and the devil she didn't care about restraining made her say, "Sure I do. I could have woken up in some guy's bed this morning ravished and exhausted from doing it all night long. Instead I'm still just as pure as the driven snow and perfectly well rested." She lifted the corners of her mouth up even higher into the smile she didn't even begin to feel. "Thanks to you. The perfect gentleman." She held out her hand. "Goodbye, Marcus."

He looked down at her outstretched hand before finally moving toward her to grasp it in his own.

Uh-oh. She should have thought that hand-shaking thing through better, should have remembered that every time they touched her body went up in flames.

Because he had an uncanny knack of reducing her insides to a pile of ashes.

"Holy h.e.l.l," he said in a low, raw voice. "I shouldn't want you this much."

She'd barely begun to wrap her head around his words, when he was pulling her into him and crushing her mouth beneath his.

The kiss-their first kiss-was beyond anything she'd ever experienced. Every ounce of his desire, every ounce of his frustrated need, everything he was denying himself by letting her go, poured from his mouth to hers.

He didn't taste her gently, didn't learn the curves and contours of her mouth. Instead, he took what he wanted...and gave her something she'd never really known she wanted before.

Nicola liked to be in control of everything, especially in the wake of Kenny's betrayal. For the first time in a very long time, she gave up that control to a man who knew exactly what to do with it.

His tongue owned hers, his teeth captured her lower lip, and she heard herself gasping and moaning as if through a long, narrow tunnel.

And then, just as quickly as his kiss had taken her over, it was taken away.

"d.a.m.n it. I didn't mean to do that." His expression was frustrated. "You need to go, Nicola. Now."

She blinked at him, trying to clear her vision, about to tell him their first kiss couldn't possibly be the end when it was the most glorious beginning she'd ever known. But then she got a good look at his face, saw the way his eyes were completely shuttered, totally closed.

And she knew there was no point.

He was done with her.

And she needed to be done with him, too.