Jill Shalvis - For The Love Of Nick

If he only knew. She hadn’t slept in days, only snatches here and there. “I can’t take the time to rest, not yet.”

“You have bruises under your eyes.” Bruises he ran his finger over lightly, as if he could remove them with just a touch. “Where have you been sleeping?”

In the back seat of a far too small Honda, borrowing the use of a shower when she could, but that sounded pathetic, and her pride reared its ugly head again. “I’ll be fine.” She continued to hold out her hand for the film. “Just tell me how much.”

“No.”

“No?” Panic surged. “I need that film, Nick.”

He sighed. “Yes, you can have the film. No, you can’t pay me. Look, obviously we can’t stay here, but I can develop the black-and-white shots at my place. It’s here, in Providence. Let me do that for you.”

She stared at him, half suspicious, half dying to be able to believe in someone, anyone. “Why?”

“Why?” He looked baffled that she’d even ask. “Do I look like the kind of man who’d let you walk out that door, knowing the trouble you’re in? Knowing that your ex could find you at any moment? That the cops are looking for you? That you’re scared and alone and probably beyond exhausted, not to mention hungry and broke?”

Her throat burned all the more. “I’m f-”

“Don’t say fine. Don’t lie, not to me.”

“With those pictures, I’ll be-”

“Fine,” he said in concert with her, and let out a disparaging sound. “Well, your kind of fine sucks, Danielle.”

“I’m sure you have better plans for the evening than developing the film for me.” She didn’t know why she pushed him, maybe because hearing him voice his concerns had shaken her. Maybe because she didn’t want to be forced to accept help, especially from a man who could melt the walls she’d so carefully built around her heart without even trying.

“At the moment, my only plans are closing up this place so we don’t have any more surprise guests.” He put the lens cover on the camera. Shut the closet door. Came to stand in front of her; a tall, hauntingly familiar man, looking as if he didn’t quite know what to do with her. Reaching out, he took her hand, turned it palm up and dropped the film canister in it. “I can’t force you to trust me, or to accept my help-”

“No, you can’t.”

“But I can ask it of you. Please?”

She tucked the film into her pocket, overwhelmed by both the need to keep running, and the tightness in her chest that indicated she wanted to let him help. “Nick…”

“I know.” His voice was low, gruff. “I wouldn’t want help, either.”

“I’m going to be okay.”

“Yeah.” He touched her again, just a hand on her arm.

It electrified her.

“But you’re running on empty,” he said softly, and kept on touching her. “Whether you want to admit it or not, you’re going to shut down. Then what?” His finger slid into her hair, his thumb stroking her jaw. “You get Sadie taken away? Maybe put back into the hands of your ex? You get yourself a police record you don’t need or deserve?” Lightly, he stroked his hands to her shoulders, which he gently rubbed, right where all the tension had balled into one tight knot.

She nearly melted to the floor.

Then his fingers danced up, slipping beneath her collar now, skin to skin. Her nipples beaded, shocking her. Spontaneous arousal wasn’t something she’d experienced in a very long time, and not only did she feel hot and itchy from the inside out, she felt confused. She closed her eyes. “I won’t get caught.”

“You don’t deserve this, Danielle. Come with me.” His mouth was close to her ear. Their bodies brushed together. “I can develop the film for you at my place.”

“I thought you weren’t a photographer.”

“Not a professional, no. It’s just a hobby, passed down from my father. Come with me.”

To his place. “I…couldn’t.”

“You’d rather sleep in your car again.”

Her gaze jerked up to his. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.” He backed away and began shutting off lights, his movements slow and sure, but she had no trouble reading the tension in his tight, tough body.

Every time he passed Sadie, the dog regarded him very seriously, as if still determining whether he could be trusted or not.

Danielle did the same.

Finally, with just the one small light left on in the reception area, he stopped directly in front of her. “Are you going to keep waiting for me to leap out and yell boo?”

She let out a low laugh. “I’m not afraid of you.”

But she was, because he threatened the one thing no one else ever had.

Her heart.

“IF YOU’RE NOT AFRAID, you’re nervous,” Nick said, seeming annoyed, though not at her. He touched her again, just set one hand on her arm, as if it was natural to keep touching her. “I can understand,” he said. “Given what you’ve been through. But you can stop.” He looked into her eyes. “I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to.”

She might have laughed, because good Lord, what she suddenly wanted him to do to her! “You keep putting your hands on me.”

“So I do,” he murmured, still doing exactly that. “Can’t seem to help it. Is it bothering you?” As he asked, one hand slid around her waist to rest on the small of her back.

Was it bothering her? It was bothering her pulse, which kept skyrocketing.

“Danielle?” His free hand cupped her jaw.

“No.” She lifted her own hand, setting it on his against her face. “But you should know, I’m not interested in-” She broke off because she was interested. Too much.

Now his fingers slid over her lips to stop any more lies. He watched her mouth with a heat that made her knees weak. In the depths of his gaze she saw an uncertainty she knew matched her own. He was as unsettled as she with this strange, inexplicable feeling.

Good.

If they were both unsettled, they could leave it alone.

“Come with me,” he said. “I’ll develop the film. You’ll sleep. Catch up. Give yourself at least that much of a head start, okay?”

One night. So tempting. Then she’d be on her way-alone except for Sadie.

As she was meant to be. “One night?”

“One night.” With a hand still low on her spine, he leaned in close, reaching past her to flip off the last light. His chest brushed hers. So did his hips.

And all the spots in between sort of melded together. One night. It shocked her to her toes what she suddenly wanted to do with their one night.

He was tough and sinewy and warm. Her nipples were still hard and achy, and she didn’t quite manage to contain the little sound that escaped her throat, that sounded like the one Sadie made when she wanted to be stroked.

His eyes, dark and full of heat, met Danielle’s. “You okay?”

No, actually, she wasn’t. Her body was on fire. It felt as if it had been taken over by an alien. An alien whose entire purpose was to obtain as much pleasure as possible.

Not that she didn’t enjoy pleasure, but she’d sort of foregone such a thing for other, more important things, like survival. “It’s just that…I’m not used to-” Embarrassed, she broke off. “Well. You know.”

“Yeah.” There was a rough timbre to his tone and a darkness in the depths of his eyes. His fingers flexed on her lower back, then relaxed. Though he spoke utterly calmly, the bulge between his thighs, the one pressing against her lower belly, belied that calmness. “I can’t help my reaction to you, Danielle. I mean, look at you. You’re beautiful. Smart. Fascinating.” When she scoffed and tried to look away, he held her still. “You excite me,” he said very quietly. “You always have.”