Family Business (Mixing Business with Pleasure Book 3) Read online

  There in my living room, the one that had been treeless and sported simple silver tinsel this morning, was a gigantic Christmas tree enveloped in soft white Christmas lights. All the ornaments I'd inherited and collected over the years hung alongside cranberry and popcorn garland. The way it draped in perfect swoops mirrored the pine that crept up the stairway banister. Nick had somehow managed to outline our massive window panels in beautiful lights too. It was the homespun Christmas I'd been dreaming of.

  A gigantic lump welled in my throat that I couldn’t swallow around.

  "Sweets." Nick’s hands came to my rigid shoulders. “Do you like it?"

  “It’s beautiful." I couldn't help that my voice came out as a small, choked whisper. “How did you…?”

  "Laura helped me. Well, Romana more but…” His tone wavered as he slipped his arms around me. "You really like it?” he asked again, so unsure.

  “I’m honestly fucking speechless."

  At that, he turned me and gently pressed his lips to mine.

  “Language,” Nick playfully scolded.

  He chuckled as his long fingers set upon my buttons, undoing my coat and pushing it off my shoulders. I returned the favor with his jacket and started for his vest. He laughed and gently clasped my hands.

  "There's more."

  He smiled and punched a few buttons on a large remote before Bing Crosby echoed through the room. My broadest smile broke free as I slipped out of my heels. I left them in a pile as I gravitated toward the tree. My ornaments—my beautiful, bittersweet memories—dripped from the branches. Everything from baby’s first Christmas to our last family vacation was reflected back at me in the form of brass or hand-blown glass shapes.

  As my fingers grazed over each glittering orb, warm tracks trickled unbidden down my cheeks. My hand delicately traced those too.

  "I hate that I make you cry." Nick’s voice was low and raspy as a mug appeared over top of my shoulder.

  “I miss my family most on days like these.” I sucked in a few unladylike sobs.

  “Hey.” He kissed the back of my head and pressed his perfect body up against mine. “I’m yours.” He slid around me and extended the mug again. “I know it’s not the same but…any way that could be enough?” he breathed.

  Nick’s timid little smile and downcast eyes almost shattered what was left of my heart. In the best way possible. Who was this man? Could he possibly be a version of my domineering, severe lover? If so, how did I keep him forever?

  “You’re more than I ever thought to ask for, baby. I love…” A sob choked off my words.

  “Not as much as I do, Sweets,” he barely breathed. “Swear.”

  I bit my lip as weird-yet-wonderful bashful Nick pulled me and my cup of Christmas toward the private elevator then our bedroom.

  "This is for you." He gestured toward a snuggly robe and silky romper laid out on the bed, both crisscrossed with candy cane stripes. "Get comfortable." He pulled me a little more urgently to his lips than last time and his tongue reached deep into my mouth. His hands squeezed on my hips in that almost violent way he had but then his hold dropped without warning and stepped away still gasping.

  He held my gaze for a moment, putting all his vulnerability on full display. My breath caught and, for a moment, I was going to tumble into his deep blue pools and get lost. But then he turned, and disappeared into the closet. When I unfroze, I undressed and slid into his gift.

  When Nick reappeared, he was in one of my favorite fitted V-neck tees and matching candy cane pajama pants. I couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

  “Who are you, and what have you done with Nicholas Bryant?”

  “I’d do anything to make you smile.” He looked me over in the short silky shorts and his hands reached for me but he stopped himself. “Give me five minutes downstairs, okay?”

  I nodded and the moment he turned to clip down the stairs, my brow crinkled. I plopped down onto the edge of our bed and aimlessly kicked my feet as I thought over the Christmas gifts I’d purchased for Nick. They paled in comparison to this new side he was showing of himself.

  Even now, Nicholas Bryant could surprise me.

  When I slipped down the stairs, Nick had pulled something close a hundred pillows and a fluffy comforter underneath the tree. A small flat screen sat on the coffee table nearby. Takeout containers peppered the table and more cocoa steamed where it basked in the glow of the tree.

  “Nick, what’s going on?"

  He smiled and patted the comforter next to him; the down puffed into an oh-so-inviting pillow. "Garlic Chicken?" he offered without a solid answer.

  I plopped down and studied him carefully while my hand blindly reached for Chinese. His eyes were churning, but with different shades of blue, and he alternated between staring too intently and finding anywhere to look but my face. I arched an eyebrow over a piece of broccoli but he didn’t seem to notice.

  What in the ever-living fuck?

  At least I was asking without fearing the answer. Nick was happy—no, beaming—so I didn’t speak up.

  I grabbed a piece of shu mai, my takeout container, and leaned into Nick. He wrapped his arms around me then picked over my shoulder to eat out of my box. The ever present tingle that crawled across my skin in response to him was amplified tonight. It even shot straight to my heart, making it go a little haywire.

  What the hell is up?

  Nick slid out to reach for the remote that controlled everything, easily turning off the stereo and flipping on the TV. I couldn’t help but lick my lips as I watched his muscles bunch and flex when he moved. And if that wasn’t enticing enough, the emotion I’d been struggling to place all evening was back on his face and making lightness reform his usually sharp features. I started to wonder if Nick had finally cracked.

  "I have it on good authority this is your favorite."

  The opening scenes of White Christmas distracted me. Nick came back to the comforter and stretched out, then patted his chest so I’d snuggle into it. I gave him a look then settled in all the same. The heady smell of Nick and pine tree filled my senses, and my eyes fluttered shut as an MMMmmm escaped my lips.

  "Sweets," he warned, “watch the movie.”

  “That's exactly what I'm doing." I let my hand skate down toward his waistband.

  "No." His hand wrapped around mine. "You're being naughty when I've gone to great lengths to be nice."

  I was about to quip about being punished when I shifted and caught his face. My brow crumpled as I studied the anxiety etched firmly around the corners of his wonderful-but-weird eyes.

  “Nick, what the hell is going on?” I sat up and cocked my head.

  “You really do have the mouth of a sailor,” he joked as he wrangled a smile that threatened to split his face in two.

  “Answer me! Something’s off. Something’s weird.” My skin vibrated and my bones hummed in response to everything he’d said, everything he’d done. It wasn’t the same boulder of panic I’d been crushed with over and over but something was coming. Of that much I was sure.

  “Nothing’s wrong, Sweets. I swear.” He held his hands up in surrender.

  “I didn’t say wrong, I said weird. Something is up. And if I have to, I’ll happily spank and or fuck it out of you.” I bent to snatch his pointed nipple between my teeth. My tongue flicked gently on him and even with a t-shirt in the way, he shuddered at the sensation.

  "Stop…" Nick gasped. "…please." He laughed breathily at me.

  I didn’t even hesitate as I let my hand wander down his body. Lower and lower.

  “Kate, I have something else for you tonight." I barely paused my risqué trail at his waistband. He pushed on my shoulders forcing me to sit up as he all but shouted an urgent, “Stop. I’m begging you!”

  10.

  The desperation in his voice made my heart swell and my hands fall away as I sat up.

  "Nick, you don't have to do anything else.” I tried to soothe him with my softest, warmest voice. When he
didn’t relax, I bent down to nibble on his lip. “Well, I can think of one other thing you should do, but in my personal opinion, it’s really more of a two person job.” I let my words puff across his skin then tried to slip my tongue between his barely parted lips. His big hands wrapped back around my shoulders and pushed me away. Again.

  My brow furrowed as I recalled memories of us together, only once had he stopped something physical between us. He was taking steadying breaths as he ran his hands through his hair beneath me. His eyes were those insane, unearthly blue pools again.

  “What’s wrong? And you better answer me this time.” I couldn’t quite keep the bite out of my voice.

  His mouth started once or twice, searching for words but he couldn’t find them. Instead, his crazy eyes traced my face a few times, as he took in a deep breath and held it. He it blew out when his eyes fell away then roved over the tree the way they’d done me.

  “Kate, there’s a special ornament on this tree."

  What the fuck?

  My whole face pinched like I’d sucked on a lemon and he smiled at my perplexed face.

  “It’s a small porcelain snowball that your father put your first diamonds in. Studs, if I'm not mistaken."

  "How did you know that?" I gasped; something sentimental was the last thing I expected.

  "Laura." He sat up and nuzzled gently against my jaw with his nose.

  “How did Laura even remember?”

  “Find your last present tonight, Sweets."

  "Nick, baby, I don't need anything." I kissed his nose as my insides back flipped.

  "I know but please…" he trailed off.

  I sat back, studying him once more. His eyes had settled on a deeper, darker, but electric blue. One I'd never seen before. The color may have been completely new, and utterly foreign, but it made my breath hitch and my heart jackknife all the same.

  “Okay…” I drug out the word with uncertainty as I unfolded toward the tree. My eyes started searching for the familiar golden-rimmed, circular jewelry box ornament, then paused to look back at him. "You know the evening is already perfect." I smiled warily over my shoulder.

  "I do, and that's why I need to give you this now." His eyes danced as I returned to my search, wondering what on earth was wrong with him.

  Normally we’d be naked by now. I could conjure up a game to play under the Christmas tree, involving a big sparkly ribbon and his candy cane. Hadn't he called me naughty earlier?

  That’s when I saw it. The shiny, stippled porcelain snowball hung daintily from the branch on a thin gold string that wove through its small green holly leaf and matching red berries. The way my father’s diamond studs looked pillowed on the velvet inside was etched into my mind, and my fingers fluttered against the clasp, hesitant to change that memory. Could whatever was inside even live up to that special Christmas morning?

  I carefully pulled it off the branch then stalled, staying frozen except for cocking my head to the side. "Nick, you should open one of your presents."

  He waved me off.

  The white lights danced on the porcelain in my hands. Whatever was inside was heavier than the studs had been. My fingers ran across the gold rim, my mind lost to a different time.

  “Kate, open it,” Nick whispered from the floor.

  When I still didn't budge, he stood and reached for my forearms. He pulled me ever so gently toward his body and kissed my forehead. I let his lips linger there. My fingers itched to chuck the snowball and cradle his face.

  “Please.”

  He has never said please this many times…

  I honestly didn’t know why I was hesitating. Yes, my stomach was trying to tell me something. Yes, his eyes were speaking volumes. I just didn’t know what either was saying. Or why they would make me waiver.

  The sigh that escaped my lips was heavy, wary, and Nick’s hands jittered on my skin in response. I stepped back slightly, just so there was enough room to hold the ornament between us. His fingers curled into my skin. Without further hesitation, I popped it open.

  I felt like I’d been punched hard and fast in the stomach. I couldn’t breathe. It took every ounce of my concentration not to drop the ornament. Nick’s grip tightened when I started to tremble.

  There, in place of diamond studs, cushioned on velvet was the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen. The center diamond was about the size of a dime, and it had pinhead-sized diamonds circling it. In between the round stones were tiny square-shaped emeralds. The setting was art deco, and the ring was definitely antique.

  Was my body humming or shaking? Could my lungs expand or was my breath simply caught in my throat? Would my heart shoot straight out of my chest?

  “Kate Elliott, I love you so much.” Nick’s voice broke and he cleared his throat. “I wish I had something eloquent planned out but…I…All I can do is tell you that you mean more to me than anything ever has or ever will. You make me feel alive and complete and I wouldn't know how to live without you anymore if I tried. I love fighting with you. I love making up with you. I just love you. Every day, all I think about is you. Every day, everything I do is for you. I need you Kate, I need to know you’re mine and that I have you forever. Marry me?"

  His hand still rested at the crook of my elbow, and he had to feel my racing pulse; the jackhammer radiated throughout every inch of my body. His thumb kept circling on my sensitive skin. Those constant circles were trying to calm me, even coax me to speak, but words just wouldn’t come to my short-circuited brain.

  "I'll beg. And plead. Please, please, please marry me." Nick shifted so he could hold my other arm too. I rested the ornament on his chest still too stunned to react. His voice got quieter, desperate. "I'll get down on one knee if I need to."

  That snapped me out of it.

  “No, please don't," I whispered and Nick swallowed as his face fell. His fingers curled into me the way they always did when he got scared. I wasn't sure when tears pooled in the corners of my eyes, but that’s when the sob broke free of my throat. "Kneeling is so cheesy. I wouldn't want you to spoil the best moment of my life by being cheesy."

  Tears started down my cheeks and quivered on my lips. My voice was a sultry rasp, ragged from my body’s overwhelming reaction.

  "Yes, I can't live without you either."

  He let out a huge sigh and cracked a breathtaking smile. In that moment that unnamed emotion and the deep, crisper blue I’d seen made sense. This was love. The real kind that had a hand in everything from fairy tales to Shakespeare tragedies. The kind that laid a soul bare, gutted, and bare.

  Nick gently took the ornament from me and pulled the ring out. Those deft fingers—my deft fingers—slowly slipped the silver down my finger. The ring, despite its size, was delicate, as was Nick’s touch where he lingered on my skin.

  "Do you like it Mrs. Bryant?"

  Mrs. Bryant? Huh?

  Well I sure as fuck had never thought about being a wife, let alone changing my name, but I liked it.

  "It's perfect.” My head snapped up and I gazed into those new deep pools.

  He set the ornament down on the coffee table, and his electric touch came back to me as his fingers slid under my robe, gently pushing it off. It fluttered to the floor behind me, and I blushed for no other reason than his touch still lit my skin on fire. Maybe even more so now.

  His crystalline eyes locked on mine and without breaking my gaze his fingers traced along my collarbone. Nick noticed my skin reacting more than normal and he kissed the bright red tracks. Much like the first night I'd been with him, he kissed first one shoulder and slipped off one spaghetti strap, then repeated the same tender gesture on the other side. My romper followed my robe to the floor.

  "You, my fiancée, are the most beautiful I’ve ever seen tonight.”

  I smiled shyly then realized I agreed. The fact that he was mine made everything infinitely more delicious. I slipped off his t-shirt and laid my hands on his chest. I kissed the precious skin underneath my fingertips. His
body shuddered, and he groaned before picking me up. I gladly wrapped my legs around his waist.

  My thighs squeezed hard on his hips and my arms wove tight around his neck, then he dramatically tumbled to the down nest beneath us. His fingers dug into my ass and he squeezed. Hard. Something was different, possessive, almost domineering, about his grip. I thought he’d held on tightly before but this was pure unadulterated ownership of my flesh.

  He kissed and nipped down my breastbone, swirling his tongue on my flesh then biting hard enough to make me yelp. When my fingers started to lose feeling and fell away, he took advantage and flipped me onto my front. He pinned me facedown beneath his strong body and stayed heavy against me as he scraped his teeth in delicious tracks down my neck and shoulders then soothing the skin with supple kisses. Nick nipped lower and lower. I gasped loudly when he moved low enough to bite my ass. Hard. He kissed the exact spot and then sat up and pulled back. I whimpered when he stopped touching my skin.

  His hand plunged roughly between my thighs and pushed my legs apart. His other hand laced into my hair and pulled. My head arched up from the comforter. He leaned in, draping himself across my body and kissed the corner of my mouth just before he shoved deep inside of me. I groaned loudly when his thumb pushed just as harshly into my backside.

  "Will you give yourself to me, body, and soul?" Nick snarled in my ear before nipping mischievously at it. I couldn't focus well enough to answer so he pulled my hair like a savage and arched my neck further. I moaned out in pleasure.

  "Body and soul?" he breathed.

  “Ye…yeah…yes,” I gasped.

  My reward was a swipe with the perfect amount of pressure across my G spot. I went limp and, as honey sped through my veins, his hand slowed and massaged in hypnotic circles. Arousal spread across my thighs and Nick’s hand, making his skin extra wet. He hummed in pleasure and shifted his weight off me, likely so he could watch his fingers glide in the slickness. He kept hold of my hair but relaxed the arc of my neck a little.

  His greedy hand cupped my sex, grasping at the wetness while his thumb still thrust gently inside me. His knees shuffled up and pushed against mine, encouraging me to spread my legs wider. They automatically inched across the soft fabric. I pulled my arms up, curled them under my chest and my forehead slumped to the comforter beneath me as his hand collected the arousal between my thighs.