Family Business (Mixing Business with Pleasure Book 3) Page 9

  My knees wobbled damn near violently, but I pushed out from my hiding place and did what I could to sprint back the way I’d come. Or the way I thought I’d come. Slowing down, breathing, and looking normal was difficult with the tempest whipping up inside me. Finding the right door was too.

  Nick’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally when I finally pushed back into the conference room.

  "I was beginning to worry,” he hissed as I plopped back into a swivel chair. “I need you to listen to this. It’s why I brought you.” I was about to snap back when he silenced me with a pointed look.

  I whipped out my phone.

  Victor Alexander is here. Christopher is involved.

  My fingers mashed on my BlackBerry buttons. Nick had to hear the furious plinking of my keys but he took no notice; not even of the buzzing in his breast pocket. When he didn't flinch, I shifted in my seat and picked up my leather portfolio. With it close to my chest, I leaned back hoping he'd have full view of the paper. I did my best to discreetly scribble the same note.

  I felt it every bit as much as heard it when he saw the scribbles on the paper. The sharp intake of breath was only slightly more noticeable than the dramatic temperature drop and teeth-chattering waves of anger that began rolling through the room. I folded the folio and pushed it back onto the table so I could sneak a peek at his face. His jaw had clenched and every muscle in his neck stood at attention. The unnervingly flat and lifeless eyes he wore made my heart stutter, even without the deep ridges of his furiously furrowed brow.

  He held my gaze for one agonizing second then stood without saying a word. To anyone. The executive that had been speaking trailed off mid-sentence, as tension became a living, breathing being sharing the room with us. Every pair of eyes fixed on Nick, except mine. I swallowed the ball of emotion in my throat and scanned for Jaime, wordlessly pleading with him to understand.

  Something about how the wide-eyed look he wore said he already did.

  My fingers itched to reach out for Nick, to soothe him, or at the very least, to get him to unfreeze, but I stopped myself. At this point, being unprofessional was just going to be icing on the soon-to-explode cake. My breath cut off when Nick’s shoulders really started to heave.

  “It seems this office hasn’t been completely truthful with Bryant Venture Group.” Icy tendrils of Bryant’s most bone-chilling voice wormed their way through the room. “I knew you were fucking with me but Victor Alexander?”

  It wasn’t lost on me that he refused to say Christopher’s name.

  “Jaime,” Nick snarled, “call the car.”

  All I got was the jerk of his chin in my direction. I shot him a look, tempted to tell him how well that bullshit sat with me, but again swallowed my snippy words. I’d be adding fuel to a raging inferno and if I was being honest, I had zero desire to get burned. I collected my things and wordlessly followed Nick from the room.

  Both stilted English and furious Cantonese chased after us up until the moment Nick shot the businessmen and women a withering glower as the elevator doors sealed shut.

  The second we were alone in our car, Nick started shouting. I listened to the stream of consciousness for a while, but when Jaime started shouting back I gave up, doing my best to block them out by leaning back to study the small paths in the suede on the roof. They looked like some small child had been tracing figures on the ceiling and I found myself imagining giraffes and elephants to help filter out the ruckus.

  They carried on that way, through Hong Kong, through the lobby, up the elevator, and into our hotel suite. I didn’t mean to slam the door when I barricaded myself in the bedroom, but my temples thudded in time with the bass notes of their voices.

  For a second, the room on the other side of the door went silent, and I smiled hoping I’d snapped them out of it. Turns out, they’d just been catching their breath. I shoved my headphones in when the barrage of voices started back up.

  I was answering emails in bed when Nick came charging into the room.

  "Get dressed and get packed, we're leaving,” he bellowed and my earbuds did nothing to muffle him.

  "Leaving to go where?"

  "Home,” he snapped, like I should have guessed then turned on his heel to stride back out.

  For a moment, I pictured my hands around his throat but let the image go with an exhale that came all the way up from my toes.

  The calm was momentary, tension gripped my shoulders as soon as the boom picked back up in the suite. When I appeared, suitcase in hand, Jaime deftly took it from me, shouted at Nick and ushered us both toward the elevator.

  The volley continued. Back down the elevator, across the lobby, in the car, and even in the airplane hanger.

  Just as with our inbound flight, I couldn’t bring myself to sit next to Nick in the main cabin. Assuming he chose to sit at all rather than pace like a feral animal. Instead, I opted for the small bedroom, slipping into bed still clothed, and yanking the comforter over my head as I went. The down did little to dampen the fury ricocheting off the cabin walls, so I wrapped the nearest pillow around my head and settled into the relative silence.

  The soft hum of the jet in flight qualified as utter silence when my eyes fluttered open. I reached for Nick, assuming the calm meant he’d run out of steam at some point and had come to join me. I launched up and my head whipped around when my hand only found cool cotton. A low chuckle gave him away. He was folded in the plush chair to the side of the bed, his ankle crossed on his knee, his arm bent so a glass of scotch could rest against his temple.

  “Hi." I rubbed my eyes as I climbed out of the bed and slunk over to him.

  He set his drink down and opened his arms to me. I yawned as I curled into his lap. My head nuzzled into his shoulder, and I sagged into this sweet, non-shouting version of Nicholas Bryant. His hands automatically started circling on my thighs. When he let out a heavy sigh, he rested his forehead against mine but still said nothing.

  I let him stay quiet, listening to the soothing beat of his heart. It was about to lull me to sleep when he whispered against my skin, “Will you ever forgive me for putting you in Christopher's path?"

  "What?" I sat up, groggy and slightly confused.

  “I brought you into a problem with Christopher.” His voice trembled in a way it never had. “Mother fucking Christopher,” he added under his breath.

  “No, Nick, I can’t.” His fingers clenched into my skin. “Because there’s nothing to forgive. You had no way of knowing and I’m sure if you did, I wouldn't have been allowed to leave the apartment, let alone the country."

  I was trying to lighten the mood. He didn't bite.

  “Nick, I mean it. I love you and I would’ve come regardless."

  “Don't ever knowingly put yourself in danger. Especially not this kind.” His voice was fierce even though he stayed quiet and close to my ear.

  "I wouldn't. I won’t,” I scrambled then added, “Unless it’ll protect you."

  “No, never.” He almost growled at me. “Promise me never."

  Despite his forcefulness, his breath was steamy against my neck, and his nose traced my earlobe. His hands had returned to circling against my skin. His heartbeat and breathing were the only things that rose above the subtle hum of the jet.

  "I promise.”

  I couldn't begin to explain what had possessed me to speak. Particularly because I knew deep down it was a promise I would break. Without hesitating. Something somersaulted inside me as I realized there was a very real possibility I’d have to prove it.

  But Nick sighed heavily and melted into the chair. His heartbeats slowed, and his gentle touch continued in the silence of the cabin. Nestled right against his neck, I lost my battle with sleep, once again trying to ignore that dread had come in and nestled in the pit of my stomach.

  9.

  New York had landed in the middle of a holiday themed snow globe while we’d been in Hong Kong. The next few days were as blurry as the flurries outside. Despite being my favorite
time of year, I really only saw Christmas lights from where they twinkled beneath Vesper’s office windows. I really only saw Nick in that building too. Or when one of us slunk to bed at some godforsaken hour. But we were good in business and in bed; we were us.

  Christmas Eve was particularly hectic. I had something in the ballpark of 200 emails to answer and three projects to finalize. I barely took the time to breathe. Every deadline bore down on me, snarling in time with my ticking clock, reminding me that I was actually taking a vacation. I’d promised Nick to disconnect, despite how poorly those promises had gone on Thanksgiving.

  He’d just made this time seem so damned important.

  And his eyes had been a really weird color…

  Night had blanketed New York as thickly as snow when the familiar rasp of Nick’s knuckles landed on the mahogany of my office door. He walked in without introduction, and I kept my head down, talking to the footfalls in the room.

  "I know I'm running late. I’m sorry. I can’t help it. Jaime was supposed to tell you I'm trying."

  "He did and it’s fine.” Nick didn't even hesitate.

  "Ten minutes." I was still speaking to my desk instead of him.

  "Is that a real ten minutes or something closer to a half an hour?" Amusement colored his voice and that finally stole my attention from the papers in front of me.

  He was a breath of fresh air as he casually leaned against my office wall. He’d shoved his hands in his pockets, barely rumpling his skillfully tailored three piece black suit. He was almost too formal, too scrumptious for a workday.

  "Ten minutes, I promise." I smiled broadly, ten minutes was all I had before getting entirely distracted anyway.

  Nick answered my smile and finally strolled fully into the room to fold into a seat across from me. The moment I returned to the paperwork in front of me, his eyes roved over my body making my skin react. I shook my head a few times and shuffled my papers hoping to shake the diversion. I snuck a look up at him just to catch piercing eyes staring back at me. He wore a lopsided grin as he rested his head on his hand, his long finger pressed into his temple.

  Good fucking Christ.

  I shook my head desperate to shake increasingly filthy thoughts from my mind.

  He rose and I tried to keep my head down even though my heart hammered. The version of Nick across from me was a force of nature, a damned Adonis with a devious smile and a bespoke suit. I tried not to let a smile creep across my face. I was sure that if I looked up, I'd get completely off track without hope of ever getting back.

  Out of the corner of my eye, he materialized a small black velvet ring box. My breath caught. He swiftly used it to pin the papers in my hands to my desktop, gaining my full attention. My heart stopped cold. Only one thing came in little black boxes like that.

  Oh God. Oh my God. Oh my holy fucking God.

  Nick stayed silent as he scrutinized me. My chest rose and fell far too fast and my cheeks flushed. Everything in my body went haywire. Nick had to hear my heart the way it thundered in my chest.

  Can I say yes?

  I didn't know. Marriage was always an abstract thought for me. Acceptable for others, but not in my cards. Fate was too cruel for happy endings. I’d hardened my heart against that ages ago…

  But can I say no?

  That question made things a little easier. I wouldn't lose him. I just couldn't unfreeze to say as much.

  "Just open it." Nick's voice was a mix of humor and something I couldn’t quite place.

  Nothing inside me reacted normally. My stomach seemed to vibrate, backflip, and melt into a puddle all at once. I watched, oddly detached, as my hand trembled across the desk. I had to ball it into a fist before I could steady myself enough to wrap my fingers around the velvet.

  The box was heavy which made me swallow. Hard. I had to muster strength to pop the slight top. As soon as the soft snap of the case broke the silence, my jaw fell open and my eyes shot to his. A twinkle of laughter met me, and I debated reaching across the desk to smack him.

  The finished device, Vesper’s FiTech, sat on a pillow inside the small box. I picked it up and the product came alive in my hand. The soft blue screen emitted a soft glow, and the magnets Nick had devised held fast in a ring shape. He took it and slipped the FiTech on my pointer finger then pulled the matching bluetooth headphones out of his pocket. The buds slipped into my ears and music started to play, crystal clear, through them. The song was slow because I was sitting, but Nick’s smile made my heartbeat quicken then the music pick up pace.

  "I'm quite happy with it as well." His voice was a little smug but that emotion I couldn't place was still edging in.

  "Nick, I can't believe it. It's everything I ever imagined." I looked up and it was the man in front of me, not the device that choked me up. "I couldn't have done this without you." I ditched the headphones as I circled the desk to hug him tightly. “Baby, thank you. For everything." I took a deep breath, relishing how his strong, manly scent reminded me of home. "Every bit of my life is better because of you." I kissed the corner of his jaw.

  "No, Kate, I've caused so many problems. This is the least I could do." His face fell as he reached for my hand and kissed my knuckles just below the FiTech.

  “You’re wrong, but I refuse to fight with you today. It’s Christmas Eve and I want to go home to be with you."

  His smile returned as he wrapped his arms around my hips and lifted. I seamlessly wrapped my legs around him, and he carried me out of the office. Jaime collected my things while we waited for the elevator. Nick let me slide down his chest only for his churning eyes to meet mine before he turned away.

  "Did you think I was purposing to you?” He wouldn’t meet my gaze but I could tell the unnamed emotion was back. And thick.

  “Yes," I admitted, he’d sensed as much already.

  "It looked like you were trying to figure out how to say no."

  My heart sank as low as his voice.

  “Nick, that’s not it…” My hands scrambled to reassure him.

  "What is it then?"

  "It scares me how much I love you, how much I need you. Marriage really hasn't crossed my mind. Ever. I didn't know what I’d say if you ever asked me until that exact moment.”

  “And?” I could tell he was holding his breath.

  Something about admitting I wanted to marry him, admitting my answer was yes, unhinged my joints and liquefied my insides. My throat felt the tight squeeze of tension. Giving shape to the words made it all far too real. As much as it would soothe him, I had to dodge.

  "Someday you'll have to ask and find out."

  Outside, small flakes drifted in swirls and zigzags down to my eyelashes. I was bundled in my favorite trench but burrowed deep into Nick's side anyway. He gladly pulled me in and directed me to the car. Christmas carols floated like the snowflakes on the wind. We were about to slide into the backseat behind Jaime when I stopped.

  “Nick." My face lit up. “Let’s go see the tree at Rockefeller Center.”

  “Kate.” His eyes clouded. “That’s rather cliché.”

  “Nick, come on. You’re allowed to be cliché at Christmas. We didn't do anything. Nothing traditional anyway." I yanked playfully on his arm.

  “Kate, it’s too crowded.” His voice sharpened and I caught the implied meaning.

  Right. Shit.

  Christopher hadn’t come up frequently since Hong Kong, just a whisper of trouble here or worry there. I'd been too busy to press him.

  I forced a smile. “I got carried away.”

  “Sweets, I am sorry and I will make it up to you.” He kissed my temple, brushing his lips across my skin as he apologized.

  “I know." I shrugged as I slipped into the waiting car.

  “Not quite sure I’ll ever get used to the level-headed version of you.” Nick watched me intently with a smile that packed so much emotion, so much awe, that I shifted under the weight of it.

  “Don’t. Get used to it, I mean. There’s not a ch
ance in hell I’ll ever be a Stepford Wife.” I spat the word out, meaning to be snarky but coming off sharp instead.

  Something sat on the tip of his tongue in response. I watched as he formulated and reformulated whatever it was. The way his face twisted and contorted was so uncharacteristic I shot him an arched eyebrow.

  Nick rolled his eyes as he turned away from me but his reflection betrayed how his face had gone steely. “You’d never be a Stepford Wife. Of that much I’m sure.” There was only the slightest hint of humor in his voice.

  I cocked my head as I evaluated the man reduced to a ball of weird emotions sitting next to me. It was so faint I could have been mistaken but I thought I heard him whisper, “Let’s just hope I’m sure about the other part, too.”

  What? What other part?

  Before I could ask, his eyes cleared and he snatched my hand. He shot me an absolutely mouthwatering look before he bent to kiss my palm. My skin still blushed a furious scarlet when he was so tender, and the color had transformed his smirk into a shy, disarming smile. Whatever emotion he was bottling up was downright bewitching.

  When he pulled me into the elevator of One Madison, I shuffled against him and pinned his body into the corner. He looked devilishly handsome in his perfect suit, pressed leisurely against the wall. His new, dangerously delicious but somehow timid and naive smile grew as he melted and pushed his hands into the long wavy strands of my hair.

  I happily lay my body against his and snaked my hands into his back pockets. I arched up and planted a soft kiss on his jaw. When he purred, I replaced my lips with my teeth, dragging them up to nip at his earlobe. He swore when the elevator dinged softly behind us. Nick shook his head, and his smirk returned as he arched off the wall. We were slow enough that he had to shoot his arm out to stop the elevator door before closing.

  I stayed woven against him, unconcerned with our legs tangling and my stilettos teetering, until he nodded his chin toward the open living room. As soon as I turned, my face was bathed in soft, warm white light. My hands flew to my mouth to stifle a squeak then I couldn’t pry them loose. My body had gone rigid, too locked up to even breathe.