Dear Diary (27 page)

Rory leaned on the balcony rail, heat soaking into her head, making her feel itchy. It was Friday afternoon; too late, really, to go into work. Besides, Michelle’s situation made her feel drained and lethargic. Her sister clung to the kind of hopes that should have died long ago.

“But not me,” Rory said aloud, her eyes closed against the beating sun, wishing she didn’t feel so miserable over doing the right thing.

She’d called Nick back to ask him about the fishing trip, but he’d been too busy to answer in anything but monosyllables. At the end of the conversation he’d tried one last time to get her to go on the boat.

“I’d like it if you’d join me,” he said in that intense, sexy way that made the hair on Rory’s arms stand on end.

“I’ll… think about it.”

The truth was, Rory was torn. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to drag him off to bed and make love to him. She wanted it all. But sooner or later she was going to pay the price. Nick had never said he loved her. In fact, love didn’t even enter into it, and that was okay, but it just wasn’t going to work for her. And as far as having a future with him, she knew Nick wasn’t interested in marriage again.

And you are?

Rory sighed, running her hands through her hair. Two weeks ago, she would have said no. But that had been before she faced her attraction to Nick. Now the thought of being married to him made her feel weak and afraid inside, like when you want something so badly it could make you ill, something you know you really can’t have.

Yet she could have him for a little while. If she were willing …

Muttering in frustration, Rory strode back inside, reaching for her cell phone. She tried Nick’s cell first, but it went straight to voicemail. She then punched in the office number and asked the receptionist to be transferred to his office.

“Mr. Shard isn’t in right now,” Pamela’s voice rang over the wire. “If you would leave your name and number—”

“Pam, it’s Rory.”

“Oh, hi. How’s your sister?”

“Surviving.” Rory had been forced to reveal something of Michelle’s problems to explain her own absence from work. “Just barely.”

“I hope things work out.”

“So do I. Do you know where Nick is?”

“No, he left early. He’s got that fishing trip with Marsden tomorrow. Have you tried calling his cell?”

“I think it’s turned off.” Of course he was unreachable. “Er, any news about Don?” she asked, not really wanting to know, but feeling she should.

“He came and talked to Mr. Shard‌—‌Nick‌—‌yesterday. I don’t know what was said, but Don seemed a little more subdued when he left. You know, Rory,” she added in an admiring tone bordering on hero-worship, “Nick is amazing. He really knows how to handle people.”

For some reason Rory couldn’t bear for Pamela to sing Nick’s praises to her. “He’s one of a kind,” she agreed, and hung up a few moments later.

Flopping down in front of the TV, Rory searched for something just short of thought provoking and one step up from mindless. The only thing that seemed to fit that category was reality TV and she just didn’t feel like it. She turned it off in disgust and tried to block out her thoughts. She knew some of the things Michelle had accused her of were true. She was too careful when it came to matters of the heart. Yet the thought of suffering the same fate as her mother, and now her sister, was enough to give her nightmares.

If Nick were a different kind of male, she might be tempted to trust to fate. Contrary to Michelle’s remarks, Rory was fully aware there were lots of men who were loyal, faithful and honest with their wives. And yes, Nick possessed some of those qualities. But she would be a worse fool than even Michelle claimed if she believed she was the one woman who could make him happy. She didn’t overrate her attributes that much.

The doorbell rang and Rory sprang from the couch as if caught in some nefarious act. Swearing under her breath, she unlatched the lock.

Nick stood on the other side. “Hi,” he greeted her. He wore a polo shirt, a pair of khaki shorts, white socks and deck shoes. He looked so much like the Nick of her youth that Rory was momentarily speechless.

“What? No snappy comment? Not even a hello?”

“Hello. What’s going on?”

“I came to see you.” His gaze skated over her from head to foot. Rory wore a pair of jeans with holes at the knees and a red tank top. She realized with amusement that she also looked as she had when she’d been a teenager.

“Come on inside, if you can stand the oven,” she invited, closing the door behind him. “This place is unbearable when it’s hot.”

“How’s Michelle?”

“A little better considering James wants a divorce, and she’s not giving it to him. She thinks he’ll change his mind and want to be with her later on, so she’s holding out.”

“Hmm.”

Small talk abruptly ground to a halt, and they stood facing each other, feeling uncomfortable. Now that he was here Rory couldn’t think of a thing to say. Wiping nervous palms on her jeans, Rory asked, “What do you think she should do?”

“Just because I’ve been divorced doesn’t make me a marital expert.” He shrugged, moving his shoulders as if to ease some inner tension. “But it does seem like he’s rushing it. A few days ago she didn’t even know there was another woman involved.”

“No. If a man treated me like that, I’d never want to see him again,” Rory answered calmly.

“Even if you loved him?” Nick regarded her with the kind of detached curiosity that nevertheless made her feel he was really listening for her answer.

“Are we talking about us now? I mean, really?”

He didn’t seem to want to answer. Instead he walked to her sink and poured himself a glass of water. “It’s too damn hot,” he muttered.

Rory said, “I called Pam and she filled me in a little on what’s been happening this week. I feel like I kind of ran out on you, especially with Don leaving at the same time.”

“It was a slow week in a lot of ways. By the way, Don came back and apologized.”

“Apologized?” Rory repeated, lifting her brows.

“Grovelled is probably closer to the word. He wanted his job back.”

“Did you give it to him?”

“Hell, no. He’s got an attitude problem I don’t need. But I offered him three month’s severance pay, and he left peaceably.” Nick looked sideways at her. “He seems disinclined to make any more tasteless remarks about you and me.”

Rory glanced around, feeling the potency of his gaze even when she couldn’t see it. “Well, that’s a relief.”

“Okay, I’m going to level with you, Rory. I’ve been thinking about us all week. No big surprise.” He laughed shortly. “I can hardly think of anything else.”

Rory swallowed. She heard the
drip, drip, drip
of the faucet in between her heartbeats.

“I’ve come to some conclusions, and they’ve been hard ones to admit. Yes, I’ve had a number of relationships. Some short, some long. One marriage. But I’m not really the way you think of me.”

“I know,” she said quickly.

“Do you? Because I’ve been getting a different message.”

“I‌—‌I just feel like I could lose everything,” she said in a rush.

He gazed at her in a way that could break her heart. “There’s something between us that won’t go away. It’s always been there. You know it’s been there. I want to explore it. I want to take it to the end.”

“What end?”

“I’m not ruling out anything. I want to try this.” He motioned between the two of them with his hands. “I ran off to San Francisco after I got divorced and I always thought it was because of Jenny, because I needed to escape from what we’d shared, but now I’m not so sure. I think… I might’ve been running from you.” His jaw slid to one side, and he frowned. “Does that sound crazy?”

Rory’s nerves tightened. “A little.”

Nick regarded her soberly, his eyes probing hers. She focused instead on his mouth, which was a mistake. The shape of his lips had always intrigued her. Why did he have to be so damned handsome?

“Oh, hell, Rory. I don’t want to talk.” In one swift stride he pulled her into his arms, his hands sliding around her back, his face somewhere near her ear. Rory pressed her palms against his chest, inhaling sharply at the feel of his lips tugging on her lobe. “Don’t stop me,” he ordered, his breath tickling her ear.

Her senses reeled. She clutched his shoulders, longing to be possessed, fighting her attraction, losing …

As if she’d verbally conveyed her feelings, he hauled her even closer, his masculine angles filling her feminine curves. She was starved for the feel of her skin rubbing against his, and her soft moan was willing and eager.

“Tell me you want me,” he ordered, one hand tangling in her hair.

“I want you.” Her voice was breathless.

There was no more waiting after that. With impatient fingers Nick stripped off her garments, then waited tensely as she did the same for him. Her hands were slower, clumsier. Groaning, Nick closed his eyes, as if it were a painful endurance. Then they were naked and she slipped into his arms. Somehow they made it to the bedroom, and Rory knew she would always remember the sweet wrestling of their limbs and the rustle of the comforter beneath her back, the smell of Nick in her nostrils and the taste of him on her tongue.

With her heart pounding in her ears Rory didn’t battle her feelings. She let her fantasies take flight and dismissed the voice that told her she was in dangerous waters. When she felt Nick slip inside her, his hips grinding lovingly against hers, she urged him onward, touching and caressing and demanding, until he laughed in her ear.

“Slow down. You’re making me crazy.”

“Good,” she answered firmly and ignored his advice completely.

She felt the sweat on his shoulders, the muscles that glided beneath his skin like oiled satin, the hard thrust of him deep inside her, pushing her upward, upward, upward. She had to clench her teeth together against an almost intolerable pleasure. The wave of pure sensation that poured over her made her cry out in ecstasy, wringing an answering moan from Nick as he reached his own climax.

Afterward Rory lay gasping for breath. So much so, in fact, that she felt the silent laughter that rippled through Nick’s body.

“Why didn’t we do this years ago?” he asked.

“Because I was smarter than. Now I’ve lost all sense.”

He braced himself on his elbows, staring into her eyes so closely there was nowhere to hide. “Sometimes you make me feel so alone,” he said with a poignancy that reached inside Rory’s soul. “Why do you do that?”

She couldn’t answer.

“I love you, Rory,” he said.

Her lips parted in shock. She was certain she’d heard wrong. “What?” she whispered.

His gaze drifted from her troubled eyes to her mouth and back again. “I want a life with you. Children. Marriage. I want it so bad I can taste it.”

“No… I don’t believe you…”

His voice gentled. “We’re good together, Rory. We always have been. We could make each other happy. It would work. I got to thinking about you being pregnant with my child, and I can’t get it out of my head. Marry me. I want you.”

Rory was almost afraid to look at him. Her heart beat like a frantic bird in her chest. This wasn’t what she’d expected. She was afraid. Afraid of believing in him as she’d believed in Ryan, as she’d believed in her father. But he meant what he said, at least at some level. His eyes didn’t lie.

She licked her lips and unwittingly drew his attention to them. Leaning in, he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth in an utterly sensual gesture, releasing her only to allow her to answer.

When she couldn’t, he asked in a quiet voice, “Do you feel the same way?”

“Nick, I’ve always loved you. You know that.”

“I don’t mean like a
brother
,” he pointed out impatiently.

“I know.”

His fingers cupped her chin, forcing her face in his direction. There was a blue flame of simmering anger in his eyes. “I didn’t want to fall in love with you, but I have. Maybe I’ve always been in love with you. But you don’t give anything, Rory. Sometimes I think I’m wasting my time, but then I tell myself you couldn’t make love to me like you do without feeling something.”

“Of course I feel something.” Her voice quivered.

“What?”

“You’re scaring me with this conversation, Nick.”

“Am I?” He swore under his breath. “What’s so difficult about admitting how you feel?”

“Everything! Maybe it’s easy for you, but it’s sure not for me.” She tried to slide off the bed, but he yanked her back, rolling onto his back and pulling her across his chest. Her hair fell down around them like a silken curtain.

“I
know
you. No, don’t shake your head. I do know you, in a way that you refuse to admit. But I don’t know what happened to you? Whenever I ask, it scares the hell out of you. What is it?”

She tried to twist her wrists free of his hands, but he held her tight. “Fine,” she declared. “I don’t trust men. Period. Ask Michelle.”

“You wouldn’t be here right now, like this, with me, if you didn’t trust me.”

“I don’t trust a man to be faithful. My father cheated on my mother. Michelle’s husband’s cheating on her.” She hesitated, then said, “Jenny said you cheated on her.”

“We covered that,” he said tensely. “I told you I didn’t.”

“Okay.”

“You think I’m lying?”

“No. I just think…”

“What?”

He was growing angry with her, but he was the one demanding to know why she felt the way she did. “I’m not convinced that, over time, you could be faithful. Jenny already thought you weren’t. Maybe she sensed what was going to happen.”

“Jenny said that just to get you. She was threatened by you. You know it,” he accused flatly.

“Well, you can’t promise you’d never cheat on me,” Rory threw back incautiously. “That’s all I’m saying. That’s what I believe.”

Nick’s breath came out in a rasp of frustration. “I can promise. I’ll never cheat on you, Rory, because you’ll never give me the chance!”

Rory knew she was being ridiculous but she couldn’t help herself. She realized suddenly, calmly, that she did love Nick, loved him more than she’d ever loved anyone in her life.