For the Love of Nick Read online

  “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.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. But I happen to be able to control myself. We’re going to my house to develop your film because staying here is a bad idea. And we’re going to get you some much-needed rest. Okay?”

  She stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. “The film and the rest part. But I don’t know about the stay-over part.”

  “One thing at a time, then.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  His smile was slow, and somehow both sweet and hot at the same time. Good thing he still had his hands on her, she needed the support. But then he backed away with a wry grimace. “I haven’t had this sort of problem since high school.”

  “Problem?”

  Now the wry grimace turned into a wry laugh, and he shoved his fingers through his hair, disturbing it, before cramming his hands deep in his pockets. “Uncontrollable erections.”

  “Oh,” she said, her face flaming, and unable to control it, her gaze was suddenly glued to the spot in question.

  “That will make it worse,” he said very silkily.

  Putting her hands to her hot cheeks, she turned away.

  NICK STOOD next to Danielle in the darkened studio knowing he was in trouble. He just wasn’t sure how he’d managed to get there.

  He was taking her home with him because she needed him.

  Okay, not entirely. It was just that he felt loath to let her walk right back out of his life as if nothing had happened.

  And nothing had happened.

  Unless one counted the way his heart had leaped into his throat at just the sight of her. Maybe if he didn’t look at her…

  He looked at Sadie instead. “She looks hot,” he said, watching the huge dog pant.

  “She needs water.”

  “Here, then. Before we go.” He backed into the office, opened the darkroom and took out a bin. He was used to the dark in here, unlike Danielle, who bumped into his chest.

  “Oh,” she said, flattening her palm over his heart.

  At the light touch, his blood pounded. He’d dreamed about her during his most impressionable adolescent years, but this was ridiculous. “Wait right here.” Moving away from her, he filled the bin from the cold water in the sink, then set it down for Sadie.

  The dog pressed between them, diving for the water. No dainty lapping for this dog. She stuck her entire face in and slurped at it, making water splash over the sides onto the floor, his shoes, everywhere.

  Then she lifted her head, looked right into his eyes and let out a sharp bark, nearly piercing his eardrums.

  “She’s thanking you.”

  He studied the dog, who had water all over her face, running in two long streams out either side of her mouth. He thought about the mess on the floor and what his sisters would say. Thought about how he was going to have to get down on his hands and knees and scrub. He sighed. “She’s welcome.” He’d come back tomorrow and clean up. When his life returned to normal and he was back on vacation, with nothing demanding his time or efforts.

  Just then Danielle’s scent came to him—clean woman—and he found himself inhaling deeply, wanting to bury his face in her hair. “Let’s go,” he said a little gruffly.

  They were on the steps outside when he heard the car pull up. Beside him, Danielle tensed, and so did Sadie.

  Nick looked into the street and got a little tense himself. Damn it, he’d forgotten something that had seemed so important to him only a few hours before.

  His date with…ah, hell. Muffy? Missy? He couldn’t quite remember her name. They’d met in a bar only two nights ago and the place had been incredibly noisy.

  By arrangement, they were to meet here at six o’clock. It couldn’t be that late already, could it? But one glance at his watch assured him it could and was.

  “Yoo-hoo!” His date waved from her car as she double-parked. Then Missy…Muffy… No, Molly. Molly leapt out the driver’s door, her wild blond hair cascading down her back in ringlets, her short, short, short gold sundress shimmering in the sun. Mile-long legs strutted. Full, round breasts jiggled as she hurried toward him, smiling with that wide, painted mouth he’d thought so sexy only a few nights before.

  Now, though it felt cruel to think it, she seemed like nothing more than a toy, and he couldn’t imagine what he’d been thinking to ask her out. Maybe thinking hadn’t been involved. After all, they had nothing in common, nothing to talk about. She was nothing like…

  Danielle.

  “Hey there,” Molly purred, reaching them. She glanced at Danielle curiously but without any animosity, probably figuring Danielle far too plain, too quiet, too reserved for Nick’s taste.

  She couldn’t have been more wrong. To Nick, Danielle’s soft expression, her beautiful and not made-up eyes, her tasteful clothes, was a package proving to be more desirable than he could have imagined. “Molly.” He stepped closer, trying to head her off. “I’m sorry,” he started regretfully, reaching out for her hand in order to avoid—

  Nope, no avoiding it. Molly drew him in, squeezing him in a hug that smothered him in perfume and undoubtedly left lipstick where she’d planted her red mouth to the side of his.

  Over her shoulder, he caught a glimpse of Danielle, who was doing a great impression of someone who could care less, but in her eyes was a hurt that tugged at something deep inside of him.

  “Wait until you see what I’ve got on beneath this dress,” Molly whispered in his ear.

  Feeling stupid and awkward, he pulled back. “I’m sorry,” he said again, looking into her eyes, watching as they filled with disappointment. “But—”

  “You’re canceling.” Molly sighed. “Is it the hairdo?” She patted the over-the-top curls. “Too wild, huh? Or maybe the nails—” She held out metallic blue nails imprinted with little white letters that spelled erogenous zones of the human anatomy.

  “It has nothing to do with how you look. You look…” Ah, hell. He was no good at this. “Molly, it’s just that an old friend stopped by, and she needs some help, and—”

  “Oh, I understand.” Molly eyed the silent Danielle again, then smiled. “We’ll reschedule, then?”

  He looked into her hopeful expression, crossed his fingers and nodded. “Another time.”

  “’Kay.” Leaning forward, giving him an ample view of her generous breasts, she kissed him one last time. “See you soon,” she whispered with promise in her sultry voice. “Ta!”

  Nick waited until Molly had gotten into her car and driven off before turning to Danielle. “Uh…do you want to follow me? Or drive in my car and we’ll come back for yours later?”

  Her smile was brittle, her voice downright chilly. “Definitely, I’ll follow.” She pulled out a set of keys and didn’t look at him. “Didn’t mean to mess up your plans for the evening—”

  “Danielle, I’m sorry. I’d forgotten—”

  She turned to him. “Look, let’s get this over with, okay? The sooner the better, and then you can catch up with your…girlfriend.” She tried to go around him but he blocked her.

  “She’s not my girlfriend.”

  “Whatever.”

  She stopped trying to get around him and glared into his face. “That shade of lipstick really doesn’t become you.” Then she sashayed past him, her slim hips and curvy little butt wriggling with attitude and bad temper.

  TED BLACKSTONE couldn’t believe it. She’d left him. Danielle Douglass, the woman he’d thought so perfect for him, a complement to the rest of his life, had up and walked out.

  No one had