Double Standards Read online

  Dangerous? Agreeing to go away for the weekend with him had been completely out of character for her—as out of character and unexplainable as this deep compelling attraction she felt for him. It was also a rash, reckless thing to do, she admitted to herself. But was it dangerous? What if Nick was a demented killer who intended to murder her, mutilate her body and bury it in the woods? If he did, no one would ever know what had happened to her, because no one knew she was with him—except Tony and his sons, and Nick could simply tell them she'd gone back to Missouri. They'd believe him. Literally and figuratively, Nick could get away with murder.

  Lauren stole a swift, apprehensive glance at his chiseled profile, and her features relaxed into a faint smile. Her instincts about people had never let her down before, and she knew instinctively that she was not in any physical danger.

  The next three hours passed in a delightful blur. The car ate up the miles, sending a balmy breeze to touch their faces and ruffle their hair, and they talked companionably about everything and nothing.

  Nick, Lauren noticed, was extremely evasive when it came to actually talking about himself, but positively insatiable when it came to probing into her background. All she learned about him was that his father had died when he was four, and that his grandparents, who had raised him, had both died a few years ago.

  In the town of Grayling, which Nick said was about an hour and a half's drive from their destination of Harbor Springs, he stopped at a little grocery store. When he came out, Lauren saw that he was carrying two cans of Coke and a package of cigarettes. A few miles down the road, he pulled over at a roadside picnic table, and they both got out.

  "Isn't it a gorgeous day?" Lauren tipped her head back to gaze in delight at the lacy white clouds drifting across the brilliant blue sky. She glanced at Nick and found him observing her with an indulgent expression.

  Ignoring his blasé attitude she said, "At home the sky never seems to be this blue, and it's much hotter. I suppose because Missouri is so far south of here."

  Nick opened both cans of Coke and handed one to her. He leaned his hip casually on the picnic table behind him, and Lauren tried to pick up their conversation where it had been interrupted a few minutes ago. "You said your father died when you were four, and your grandparents raised you—what happened to your mother?"

  "Nothing happened to her," he replied. Putting a cigarette between his lips, he struck a match, cupping his hands around the flame to protect it from the breeze.

  Lauren stared at the vital thickness of his dark brown hair as he bent his head to the match, then she quickly lifted her blue eyes to his. "Nick, why are you so uncommunicative about yourself?"

  He squinted his eyes against the aromatic smoke drifting up from the cigarette. "Uncommunicative? I've been talking my head off for a hundred miles."

  "But not about anything really personal. What happened to your mother?"

  He laughed. "Has anyone ever told you that you have incredibly beautiful eyes?"

  "Yes, and you're prevaricating!"

  "And that you're extremely well-spoken, too?" he continued, ignoring her remark.

  "Which isn't surprising because my father is an English teacher, as you've already discovered." Lauren sighed, exasperated by his deliberate evasiveness.

  Nick glanced up at the sky, his gaze drifting over the trees and the deserted highway, before he finally looked at Lauren again. "I didn't realize how tense I was until three hours ago, when I finally started to relax. I needed to get away like this."

  "Have you been working very hard?"

  "About seventy hours a week for the past two months."

  Her expressive eyes filled with sympathy, and Nick smiled at her—one of those warm, engaging smiles that quickened her heartbeat. "Did you know that you're very relaxing company?" he asked softly.

  She was not particularly pleased to hear that while she found him electrifying, he found her relaxing. "Thank you—I'll try not to put you to sleep before we get to Harbor Springs."

  "You can put me to sleep after we get there," he said suggestively.

  Lauren's heart slammed into her rib cage. "What I meant was, I hope I'm not boring you."

  "Believe me, you haven't bored me." His voice deepened with sensuality. "As a matter of fact, there's something I've wanted to do ever since last night, when I turned around with your glass of tonic in my hand and saw you standing there, trying very hard not to laugh at my shock."

  Even in her state of heightened nervousness, Lauren knew he intended to kiss her. He took her Coke from her limp fingers and calmly put it on the picnic table beside him, then he reached out and drew her purposefully between his legs. Her hip brushed the inside of his hard thigh, sending shock waves of alarmed awareness through her entire nervous system. His hands slid up her arms to gently imprison her shoulders. In helpless anticipation she watched his firm, sensual lips slowly descend to hers.

  His mouth covered hers, moving and probing in a kiss that was lazily coaxing, yet breathtakingly insistent. Lauren tried desperately to hold on to her fleeing sanity, but the moment his tongue slid against her lips she lost the battle.

  With a smothered moan, she leaned into him and let him part her lips. His response was instantaneous. His arms tightened around her, imprisoning her against his chest, while his mouth opened hungrily, his tongue plunging into her mouth and stroking against hers. Something exploded inside Lauren; her body arched against him, and her hands lifted compulsively to caress his neck and slide through the soft hair at his nape as she eagerly responded to his hungry mouth.

  By the time Nick finally lifted his head, Lauren felt branded by that kiss, permanently marked as his possession. Trembling with inner turmoil, she leaned her forehead against his shoulder. His warm lips drifted across her cheek to her temple, trailing downward until his teeth playfully nipped her earlobe. He chuckled huskily against her ear, "I think I owe you an apology, Lauren."

  She leaned back in his arms and looked up at him. The smoky gray eyes gazing back at her were heavy-lidded and smoldering with passion, and although he was smiling, it was a wry smile of self-mockery.

  "Why do you owe me an apology?"

  His hand slid up and down her spine in a lazy caress. "Because despite your assurance that you aren't naive, until a few minutes ago I was worried that this weekend might be more than you could handle—and more than you bargained for."

  Still dazed from their kiss, Lauren asked softly, "And now what do you think?"

  "I think," he murmured dryly, "that this weekend might turn out to be more than I bargained for." He gazed into her glowing blue eyes, and his own eyes darkened with response. "I also think that if you continue to look at me like that, we're going to be about two hours late getting to Harbor Springs."

  His glance flicked meaningfully to the motel across the highway but before Lauren even considered panicking, he reached up and firmly pulled her sunglasses down onto her nose. "Those eyes of yours are going to be my undoing," he said with grim humor.

  Then he took her arm and led her toward the car.

  Lauren collapsed into her seat, feeling as if she had just been through a cyclone. The car engine roared to life, and she forced herself to relax and think logically. She had two immediate problems facing her: the first was that it was now obvious Nick intended to take her to bed this weekend. In his mind it was already a forgone conclusion. Of course, she could simply say no when the time came, but the second problem was that she wasn't at all certain she wanted to say no. Never before had she been so attracted to a man, or so affected by a kiss. Never before had she so wanted a man to make love to her.

  She looked at Nick's strong, capable hands on the steering wheel, then lifted her eyes to his ruggedly handsome profile. He was so attractive, so blatantly virile, that women probably took one look at him and eagerly went to bed with him without ever expecting any emotional commitment from him. Surely she herself wouldn't be such an easy conquest. Or would she?

  A rueful sm