Fiona Brand - Just One More Night

As the music swelled and Elena looped her arm through his, the issue of retrieving an heirloom ring and unraveling the mystery of his father’s link with Elena’s aunt faded.

With Elena’s delicately enticing perfume filling his nostrils again, Nick acknowledged that the only “yes” he really wanted from Elena was the one she had given him six years ago.

* * *

Elena steeled herself against the tiny electrical charge that coursed through her as she settled her palm lightly on Nick’s arm.

Nick sent her another assessing glance. Despite her intention to be cool and distant and, as she’d done the previous evening, pretend that she didn’t look a whole lot different than she had a month ago, Elena’s pulse rate accelerated. Even though she knew she looked her very best, thanks to the efforts of the beauty spa, she was still adjusting to the changes. Having Nick Messena put her new look under a microscope, and wondering if he liked what he saw, was unexpectedly nerve-racking.

Nick bent his head close enough that she caught an intriguing whiff of his cologne. “Is that a tattoo on your shoulder?”

Elena stiffened at the blunt question and the hint of disapproval that went with it. “It’s a transfer. I’m thinking about a tattoo.”

There was a small tense silence. “You don’t need it.”

The flat statement made her bristle. “I think I need it and Giorgio thought it looked very good.”

“Damn,” he said softly. “Who is Giorgio?”

A small thrill went through her at the sudden, blinding thought that Nick was jealous, although she refused to allow herself to buy into that fantasy.

From what she knew personally and had read in magazines and tabloids, Nick Messena didn’t have a jealous bone in his body. Most of his liaisons were so brief there was no time for an emotion as deep and powerful as jealousy to form. “Giorgio is...a friend.”

She caught the barest hint of annoyance in his expression, and a small but satisfying surge of feminine power coursed through her at the decision not to disclose her true relationship with Giorgio. It was absolutely none of Nick’s business that Giorgio was her personal beauty consultant.

In that moment she remembered Robert Corrado, another very new friend who had the potential to be much more. After just a couple of dates, it was too early to tell if Robert was poised to be the love of her life, but right now he was a touchstone she desperately needed.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to recall exactly what Robert looked like as they followed Gabriel, Gemma and Sanchia down the aisle.

She felt Nick’s gaze once again on her profile. “You’ve lost weight.”

Her jaw clenched at the excruciating conversation opener. It was not the response she had envisaged, but all the same, a small renegade part of her was happy that he had noticed.

Her new hourglass shape constantly surprised her. The diet, combined with a rigorous exercise regime had produced a totally unexpected body. She still had curves, albeit more streamlined than they used to be, and they were now combined with a tiny waist.

She was still amazed that the loss of such a small amount of weight had made such a difference. If she had realized how little had stood between her and a totally new body, she would have opted for diet and exercise years ago. “Can’t you come up with a better conversational opener than that?”

“Maybe I’m out of touch. What am I supposed to say?”

“According to a gossip columnist you’re not in the least out of touch. If you want to make conversation, you could try concentrating on positives.”

“I thought that was a positive.” Nick frowned. “Which columnist?”

Elena drew a swift breath. After her unscheduled meeting with Nick in Auckland she had, by pure chance, read that he had dated a gorgeous model that same night. She said the name.

His expression cleared. “The story about Melanie.”

“Melanie. Rhymes with Tiffany.”

Nick’s gaze sliced back to hers. “She’s a friend of my sister, and it was a family dinner. There was no date. Have you managed to sell the villa yet?”

“Not yet, but I’ve received an offer, which I’m considering.”

The muscles beneath her fingers tensed. She caught his flash of annoyance. “Whatever you’ve been offered, I’ll top it by ten percent.”

Elena stared ahead, keeping her gaze glued to the tulle of Gemma’s veil. “I don’t understand why you want the villa.”

“It’s beachfront. It’s an investment I won’t lose on, plus it seems to be the only way I can get you to agree to help me search for the ring.”

“I’ve looked. It’s not there.”

“Did you check the attic?”

“I’m working my way through it. I haven’t found anything yet, and I’ve searched through almost everything.”

Her aunt had been a collector of all sorts of memorabilia. Elena had sorted through all the recent boxes, everything else she had opened lately was going back progressively in time.

There was a small, grim silence. “If you won’t consider my purchase offer, will you let me have a look through before you sell?”

Her jaw set. “I can’t see Aunt Katherine putting a valuable piece of jewelry in an attic.”

“My father noted in a diary that he had given the ring to Katherine. You haven’t found it anywhere else, which means it’s entirely probable that it’s in the house, somewhere.”

Elena loosened her grip on the small bouquet she was holding. Nick’s frustration that he wasn’t getting what he wanted was palpable. Against all the odds, she had to fight a knee-jerk impulse to cave and offer to help him.

Determinedly, she crushed the old overgenerous Elena: the doormat.

According to Giorgio her fatal weakness was that she liked to please men. The reason she had rushed around and done so much for her Atraeus bosses was that it satisfied her need to be needed. She was substituting pleasing powerful men for a genuine love relationship in which she was entitled to receive care and nurturing.

The discovery had been life altering. On the strength of it, she intended to quit her job as a PA, because she figured that the temptation to revert to her old habit of rushing to please would be so ingrained it would be hard to resist. Instead, she planned to branch out in a new, more creative direction. Now that she’d come this far, she couldn’t go back to being the old, downtrodden Elena.

Aware that Nick was waiting for an answer she crushed the impulse to say an outright yes. “I don’t think you’ll find anything, but since you’re so insistent, I’m willing for you to come and have a look through the house for yourself.”

“When? I’m flying out early tomorrow morning and I won’t be back for a month.”

In which time, if she accepted the offer she was considering, the villa could be sold. She frowned at the way Nick had neatly cornered her. “I suppose I could spare a couple of hours tonight. If I help you sort through the final trunks, one hour should do it.”

“Done.” Nick lifted a hand in brief acknowledgment of an elderly man Elena recognized as Mario Atraeus. Seated next to him was a gorgeous brunette, Eva Atraeus, Mario’s adopted daughter.

Elena’s hand tightened on Nick’s arm in a weird, instant reflex. Nick’s gaze clashed with hers. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She had just remembered a photograph she stumbled across a couple of months ago in a glossy women’s magazine of Nick partnering Eva at a charity function. They had looked perfect together. Nick with his strong masculine good looks, Eva, with her olive skin and tawny hair, looking like an exotic flower by his side.

The music swelled to a crescendo as Gabriel and Gemma, with Sanchia in tow, stopped to greet an elderly matriarch of the Messena clan instead of leaving the church.