Nikki Logan - From New York With Love - Rumours on the Red Carpet / Rapunzel in New York / Sizzle in the City

He had enjoyed this evening with her more than he had enjoyed being with a woman for a very long time—if ever. Not just making love to her, but cooking dinner with her, talking freely about everything and nothing, when usually he was careful of how much he revealed about himself to the women he was involved with—a self-defence reflex that simply hadn’t existed with Cyn from the beginning.

And now this.

His mouth thinned with his displeasure. ‘I apologise for being grouchy. I just—’ He ran his hand through the dark thickness of his hair. ‘I’ll get dressed and go down and sort this situation out. I shouldn’t be long. What are you doing...?’ He frowned as Cyn turned towards the bathroom.

‘Getting dressed so that I can come with you.’

‘You aren’t coming downstairs with me.’

‘Oh, but I am,’ she assured him.

‘No—’

‘Yes,’ she bit out firmly, her hands resting on her hips as she raised challenging brows.

Lucien’s nostrils flared. ‘My hotel. My problem.’

‘Your hotel, certainly. But we don’t know yet whose problem it is,’ she insisted stubbornly.

His jaw clenched. ‘Look, Cyn, there are some things about Miller I don’t believe you’re aware of—’

‘What sort of things?’ She looked at him sharply.

‘Things,’ Lucien bit out tersely. This evening had already gone to hell in a handbasket. Cyn did not need to know about all of Jonathan Miller’s behaviour, or the reason the other man had been using her, which was sure to come out if Miller was as belligerent as Dex had said he was. ‘In the circumstances, the best thing you can do is—’

‘Please don’t tell me that the best thing I can do is to stay up here and make coffee, like a good little woman, and wait until the Mighty Hunter returns!’ Her eyes glowed deeply cobalt.

Apart from the good little woman and Mighty Hunter crack, that was exactly what Lucien had been about to say. ‘Well...maybe you could forget the coffee,’ he said dryly.

‘And maybe I can forget the whole scenario—because it isn’t going to happen!’ She thrust her hands into the pockets of his silk robe.

Lucien noted that it was far too big for her; it was wrapped about her almost twice, with the sleeves turned up to the slenderness of her wrists, and the length reached down to her calves—altogether making her look like a little girl trying to play grown-up.

‘Dex has managed to take Miller to a secure room for the moment, but it could get nasty, Cyn.’

‘I’ve been a waitress for six years; believe me, I know how to deal with nasty,’ she assured him dryly.

Lucien was starting to notice that Cyn seemed to use the waitress angle as a defence mechanism. As if in constant reminder to herself, and more probably Lucien, of who and what she was...

Who she was to Lucien was Cynthia Hammond—a beautiful and independent young woman whom he admired and desired.

What she was to Lucien was also Cynthia Hammond—a beautiful and independent young woman whom Lucien admired as well as desired.

The rest, he realised, had become totally unimportant to him—was just background noise and of no consequence.

Not true of Cyn, obviously...

He drew in a deep breath. ‘I would really rather you didn’t do this.’

‘Your opinion is noted.’ She nodded.

‘But ignored?’

‘But ignored.’

‘Fine,’ he bit out between clenched teeth, knowing he couldn’t like Cyn’s independence of spirit on the one hand and then expect her not to do exactly as she pleased on the other. ‘I’ll be leaving in about two minutes. If you aren’t ready—’

‘I’ll be ready.’

She hurried into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

Lucien drew in several controlling breaths as he glared at that closed bathroom door, knowing that the next few minutes’ conversation with Miller would in all probability put an end to Lucien and Cyn spending the rest of the night together...

CHAPTER NINE

‘MAKING AN EXHIBITION of himself how?’ Thia prompted softly.

Lucien was scowling broodingly where he stood on the other side of the private lift as it descended to the ground floor.

He was once again dressed in those casual denims and black T-shirt, although the heavy darkness of his hair was still tousled—from Thia’s own fingers earlier, and also Lucien’s own now as he ran his hands through it in impatient frustration. Probably because of her stubbornness in insisting on accompanying him downstairs rather than Jonathan’s behaviour, Thia acknowledged ruefully.

Silver eyes glittered through narrowed lids. ‘He came in and demanded to see me. According to Dex, once both the receptionist and the manager had told him I wasn’t available this evening, Miller then decided to start shouting and hurling the potted plants about. When that failed to get him what he wanted he resorted to smashing up the furniture, which was when Security arrived and took charge of the situation.’

‘How...?’

‘Two of them lifted him up and carried him away to a secure room before calling Dex,’ Lucien explained grimly.

Thia winced as she pictured the scene. ‘I can imagine Jonathan might be upset after what happened this morning, but surely this isn’t normal behaviour?’

Lucien gave her an irritated frowning glance. ‘Cyn, have you really not noticed anything different about him since you came to New York?’

Well...she had noticed that Jonathan was more self-absorbed than he’d used to be. That he slept the mornings away and barely spoke when he did emerge, sleepy-eyed and unkempt, from his bedroom. And he had insisted on the two of them attending those awful parties together every night, at which he usually abandoned her shortly after they had arrived. And he had been extremely aggressive at the Carews’ party last night—she had the sore wrist and the bruises on her arms to prove that!

She chewed on her bottom lip. ‘Maybe he’s a little more...into himself than he used to be.’

‘That’s one way of describing it, I suppose.’ Lucien nodded grimly, standing back as the lift came to a halt and allowing her to step out into the marbled hallway first.

Thia eyed him guardedly as she walked along the hallway beside him; Lucien obviously knew which room Jonathan had been secured in. ‘How would you describe it?’

Lucien’s mouth thinned. ‘As the classic behaviour of an addict.’

She drew in a sharp breath as she came to an abrupt halt in the hallway. ‘Are you saying that Jonathan is—that he’s taking drugs?’

‘Amongst other things.’ Lucien scowled.

‘He’s drinking too?’

‘Not that I know of, no.’

‘Then what “other things” are you talking about...?’ Thia felt dazed, disorientated, at Lucien’s revelation about Jonathan. Admittedly Jonathan hadn’t seemed quite himself since she arrived in New York, but she had put that down to reaction to his sudden stardom. It must be difficult coping with being so suddenly thrust into the limelight, finding himself so much in demand, as well as having so many beautiful women throwing themselves at him.

Lucien grimaced. ‘This is not a good time for me to discuss this with you.’

‘It’s exactly the time you should discuss this with me,’ Thia insisted impatiently. ‘Maybe if someone had thought to discuss it with me earlier I might have been able to talk to him about it—perhaps persuaded him to seek help.’ She gave a shake of her head. ‘As things now stand he’s not only messed up his career, but the rest of his life as well!’

Lucien frowned as he heard the underlying criticism in her tone. ‘Damn it, Cyn, do not turn this around on me. Miller was given a warning about his behaviour weeks ago. In fact he’s been given two warnings.’