Coming Home (13 page)

"I'm going to bake a cake for the bake sale," Simone explained. "The one being held at the dance this weekend."

Wyatt could hear the expectation in the girl's voice. She obviously hoped Brady would ask her to go with him. His cousin just smiled his lazy smile and ignored her.

"Mr. Wyatt is going to the dance," Simone continued.

Brady raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "You? Since when you do socialize with the old biddies and farmers at the Grange?"

"He is going with Dr. Ross," Simone said. Wyatt frowned in annoyance, wishing she hadn't mentioned it. She was obviously still hinting, but her subtlety went right over Brady's empty head. She scurried past him, carrying the bags of groceries into the house. Wyatt noticed the sardonic smile on his cousin's face.

"You're taking Nicole out? Can't say I blame you. She certainly grew some curves, didn't she?"

Wyatt frowned but willed himself to remain silent and give Brady some more rope...to hang himself.

"Though, I'm surprised that you'd be interested in her. I mean, we all know what a tramp she was. And you've never been one to take someone else's leftovers."

That was rope enough. Wyatt felt his right fist fly out from the side of his body and connect with his cousin's jaw two seconds later. He didn't feel an ounce of regret as the other man flew off his feet and landed on his back in the dry grass near the driveway.

Shock widened Brady’s eyes and he hunched over, circling his middle with his arm. Wyatt knew no-one had ever had the nerve to raise a hand to his cousin, at least not since the last fight he and Wyatt had gotten into, several years before. Wyatt felt quite satisfied at having knocked the other man on his arrogant butt.

"Not another word, Brady. I spared your teeth, I know how you prize those pearly whites. You say another thing about Nicole and you’ll be swallowing a few of them. You got me?"

Brady slowly made his way to his feet. Wyatt could see the indecision in his eyes, as if the other man contemplated charging with a counter attack. If Wyatt had turned his back, he probably would have done it. Face to face though, he knew his cousin would never have the balls.

"Hell, Wyatt, I didn't say anything you haven't heard before. I was just trying to warn you, remind you of how tricky she can be. Look what she tried to do to me, running to Grandpa telling him I got her knocked up when I never even...I mean, we never..."

"Just shut up. I know you never slept with Nicole, even though you don't want to admit it."

"Yeah? What makes you so sure?" Brady asked as a petulant look crossed his face. "I dated her the last summer she came down here, remember?"

Wyatt nodded coldly. "I remember.” Silently he thought
But she was a virgin the first time she and I made love...a couple of days after the two of you broke up
.

“She was with you, wasn’t she?” Brady suddenly asked. “That summer, it was you she ended up with.”

“Just stay the hell away from her,” Wyatt muttered as he turned to walk away from his cousin.

"Little bitch," Brady muttered. "If she was sleeping with you, why'd she try to trap me with some nonexistent baby?"

Wyatt didn't answer, didn't even slow down. The explanation was too long, and he didn't owe it to Brady, anyway. He'd figured out the answers years ago, and he was the only one to whom they were really important.

Wyatt stalked through the house and went straight up to his own room. Kicking his door shut behind him, he walked to the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony. Memories of lazy midnight swims with Nicole overwhelmed him as he glanced down into the still blue waters of the swimming pool. He couldn't even be in his own home without being overcome by the past.

Not for the first time he wondered what his life might have been if he'd learned about Nicole's pregnancy just a few weeks sooner. Would she be living here with him now, would they be raising their child together? Would it have been a sweet dark-haired girl like her mother, or a rough and tumble boy who'd be about the right age to challenge his father for his independence?

It hurt to think about it. He couldn't stop. How could a series of minor misunderstandings result in such a huge mess?

It had been obvious to Wyatt from the very beginning that his grandfather had made a terrible error when confronted with Nicole Ross' pregnancy. He'd assumed Brady was the father. After all, the two of them had been the ones publicly dating.

Wyatt had been on holiday in Prague with his mother and her husband when his grandfather first started calling. Brady had been the only one to remain behind in England, just as happy to get away from Wyatt as Wyatt had been to escape him. Later, Wyatt could easily imagine Brady's indignant denials as he told his grandfather that he'd never touched Nicole, that she was a slut trying to trap him into marrying her. By the time Wyatt returned to London, and heard of the incident, weeks had passed. Several more days went by while he returned to the states and tracked Nicole to her mother's Baltimore estate. What happened there was something he didn't want to think about.

That was a long time ago. But he couldn't deny the spark of attraction between them hadn't diminished one bit. Part of the problem, he knew, was that he'd allowed himself to believe he'd never again experience as much pleasure as he had with Nicole.

"Nothing could have been that good," he insisted out loud.

He'd been young and inexperienced. That's all it was, emotions wrapped in youthful excitement had combined to give the entire affair the illusion of ecstasy. Just an illusion.

"There's one way to prove it," he murmured, rubbing his jaw with a weary hand.

Maybe the way to extinguish the desire forever would be to give in to it one more time. Maybe the answer to getting Nicole Ross out of his mind was to get her back into his bed.

"Not another word, Nicole, you go to that dance and don't even think about using me as an excuse to back out."

Nicole rolled her eyes and looked up at the fluorescent light on the ceiling of her father's hospital room. He was quite insistent. She wished she hadn't even mentioned that she'd agreed to go to the Orange Blossom dance with Wyatt. Because now that she'd decided to back out, she couldn't even use her father's return home as an excuse. He wouldn't let her.

"Dad, let's just see what happens. We’ll see how you feel."

"I feel fine," he retorted. "Maria will be there if I need her, and you can get out and have some fun. Please, Nicole, it will make me feel less guilty about you having to drop everything and come down here if I can at least feel you're doing a few things to enjoy yourself."

"I'll see to it that she does enjoy herself, Josh."

Nicole glanced up as Wyatt entered the room, looking as devastatingly attractive as ever in khaki slacks and a short-sleeved cotton shirt. He'd obviously heard part of their conversation. She wondered if he'd heard the part where she'd told her father she was planning to back out of their date. If so, he gave no indication.

"So, you’re going home today. Is there anything I can do to help?" Wyatt asked.

"Rope that doctor and get him to sign the release papers!"

Nicole grinned. Her father had been asking the nurse every fifteen minutes when the doctor would be releasing him. He'd been fully dressed and ready to go for two hours, ever since Nicole arrived at the hospital.

"Afraid I can't help there. How about a ride home, though? From the looks of Nicole whenever she steps out of that SUV of yours, I'd say your air conditioning's on the fritz again."

Nicole slowly turned her face toward him and raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"You've been looking a little wilted lately," Wyatt said with a grin. "

Nicole ground her teeth. The man was infuriating. Where another man might never notice something as simple as how a woman's hair looked, Wyatt Clayton not only noticed, he felt free to comment on it.

"Not that you don't always look lovely, Nick," he said, his eyes sparkling with laughter.

Right then and there, Nicole resolved that she was going to look so gorgeous Friday night when he showed up to take her to the dance that he'd be utterly speechless. She didn't quite know how she'd accomplish it, since the only hairdressing shop in Windover was one of those quick-cut places with girls who looked like they should be in gym class at the local high school. Plus, she had nothing to wear. But she'd find a way to wipe that knowing grin off his face if it was the last thing she ever did.

Wyatt knocked on the door late Friday afternoon and was welcomed by Maria. "You look wonderful. You and Nicole will be the loveliest couple there tonight," the woman exclaimed.

"Thanks," Wyatt murmured as he followed her into the house. "Though I feel strange in these clothes."

"You should dress this way more often. There is nothing that makes a man look more attractive than a tailored suit. Nicole will be right down, I’ll go tell her you’re here.”

After she left, Wyatt caught a glimpse of his reflection in a mirror and checked his appearance. He felt like a banker in the clothes, being far more used to wearing jeans and boots. But hell, he’d extended the invitation, the least he could do was dress for the occasion.

A splash of color appeared in the corner of his eye, and Wyatt stepped around the foyer table to look up the stairs. He saw Nicole's bare, slender legs, and a flash of her shimmering, opalescent pink dress. He swallowed hard as she slowly descended and then paused on the bottom step.

She was perfection. Every inch of her quietly affirmed her graceful loveliness, from the wispy curls falling in artful disarray around her ears and neck, down to the flirty high heeled pink shoes. And in-between she was a cotton candy wrapped package that he longed to open and savor.

"Do you like my dress?" she purred, her voice full of feminine power as he thoroughly studied her.

He nodded, allowing his eyes to absorb her for a moment longer. Her shimmering dress changed color with every subtle shift of her body, from bright pink, to silver, to almost mauve, just like the deep colors in a rare opal. Her smooth shoulders and arms were completely bare. The dress skimmed across her high breasts like a splash of colored water, and swirled around her lean hips and thighs. She wore no jewelry. She needed none. Her skin glowed finer than any stone, and her eyes flashed fire and heat and an unspoken promise that she probably didn't realize. But he recognized it.

"You look delicious," he finally said softly as he rested his gaze on her full pink lips. Wyatt watched her suck in a deep breath as she realized he meant exactly what he said. He wanted to devour her. To taste her. Every enticing bit of her.

She leaned back against the banister, her body responding to his words. Wyatt watched her nipples pucker beneath the filmy fabric. His heart sped up, pounding in his chest as he thought of what he'd like to do to her...with her...for her. He wanted to drop to his knees and take a rosy, enticing peak into his mouth, right through the dress, knowing his warm exhalations through the material would give her much pleasure. He licked his dry lips, watching as her eyes followed his tongue, then saw her own slip out to moisten her mouth as well. He nearly groaned out loud at the blatant invitation.

"I'd love to taste you," he whispered. Sliding his hands around her waist, he lifted her down from the last step where she'd paused. She didn't make a sound of protest as he lowered her to her feet, and Wyatt savored the brush of her body sliding across his as light and fleeting as a seductive whisper.

"Are you ready, Nicole?" he asked softly, daring her to answer the question he was really asking. She stared up at him in silence. He wasn't going to make another move unless she initiated it. All she needed to do was offer her mouth for a kiss and he would know her answer.

Before she could make her decision, however, Maria walked in from the kitchen, startling them both. Wyatt saw color flood Nicole's cheeks. He mentally cursed, wondering how he could have forgotten they were far from alone in the house.

"Oh, I must take a picture," the woman said as she oohed and aahed over them both. "Your father, did you visit him before you came downstairs?"

Nicole nodded abruptly, trying to shake off the intimate spell Wyatt had wrapped around her with his voice and his eyes. She had dressed to kill, spending the day shopping and getting her hair done. She’d even had fake fingernail tips applied, knowing she’d be reaching for the scissors to cut them off in the morning. All to get a reaction out of him. Well, she’d gotten one. And now she found herself speechless and quivering from a few carefully chosen words and the look on his handsome face.

"Feels like prom night," Wyatt said, sotto voice, as Maria scurried out of the room to retrieve her camera.

She smiled weakly, her body still reacting to him. Wyatt looked gorgeous, of course. His lean body wore the tailored suit to perfection. His thick, dark hair had been cut recently, she could see a small pale strip of skin between his hair and his tanned neck. She had a sudden urge to put her tongue against it.

As Maria returned and snapped a few shots, Nicole forced her breathing to return to normal. Studiously ignoring the strength of the hand Wyatt pressed into the small of her back as they posed, she smiled and chatted and wished she'd worn a long black pantsuit. Her sexy dress provided too much ammunition, and absolutely no protection.