Made to Love (25 page)

“I have an idea.” 

                It was late, and my room was shrouded in darkness. 
Nathan’s fingers were tracing circles on my stomach, his head resting on my
chest. 

I closed my eyes.  “An idea?  Should I be
scared?” I teased.

He didn’t laugh.  “I’m not sure.  I kinda am.”

My eyes flew open.  An idea that scared him? 
Hell, what did that mean for me?  I stared up at my ceiling, forming a response
that hopefully wouldn’t give away how nervous I was, when he suddenly lifted
his head to look at me, his chin resting on my boob.

“You wanna move in with me?”

                I. Did. Not. Expect. That.

Move in with him?  Seriously?  What about
Brooke?  What about work?  People would find out.  There was no way we could
continue in our little world of neither confirming nor denying the rumors. 
Moving in together was huge.  Gargantuan huge. 

He was ready for this?  Was I ready for this?

My heart pounded heavily as I stared at him
in the dim light.  I opened my mouth, but promptly closed it again when nothing
came to me.

“Sorry.  I should’ve given you a little more
warning.”  He tilted his head and laid it back down on my chest.   “Anyway,
it’s just a suggestion.  Doesn’t mean you have to pack up tomorrow or
anything.”

I absently tangled my fingers in his hair, refusing
to acknowledge the sudden burning in my eyes.  This is what I wanted, right?  I
mean, yes, it was entirely too soon.  We’d just had that ‘are we exclusive’
talk less than a week ago.  And we’d only been together—unofficially—for a few
short weeks beyond that.  And yes, there were things to consider.  But the
flip-flopping back and forth between apartments, each of us slipping out in the
early morning for the sake of appearances, was getting old.  People did it all
the time, but still.  I was coming to hate it. 

And I loved him; there was that, too. 

So I wanted this, right?  Why was I so
terrified?

I still hadn’t spoken.  His hand came up and
rested on the hollow beneath my breast.  “I can feel your heartbeat,” he
whispered.  “It’s okay, baby.  No pressure.  Think about it and we’ll talk
later.”

There was something different in his voice,
something I couldn’t place.  A sudden anxiety seized my chest and I pulled his
head up to kiss his mouth, desperate to dispel the sense of impending doom.

Nathan

 “Nathanial.”

I clenched my jaw but said nothing as my
father strode into my office and planted himself squarely in front my desk, his
arms crossed.   Nancy stood in the doorway and shrugged apologetically at me. 
I dismissed her with a curt nod and she shut the door as she left.  My father
never waited to be announced.

“Yes?” I inquired, attempting to gauge his
mood.  He looked pissed, but this wasn’t uncommon.  And yet, I sensed he was
here for more than his usual pissing match, and I wasn’t in the mood.  Reagan
had been different this morning, and I knew asking her to move in with me had
freaked her out.  I had no idea where we now stood and that infuriated me.  The
biggest decision of my life thus far, and I should have just kept my mouth
shut. 

“A situation has been brought to my
attention.” 

Knowing the list of things that could send my
father into an irate state was lengthy at best, I leaned back in my chair and
stared back up at him.  “A situation,” I repeated.   “And that would be what?”

“Tyler Winston.  He’s making accusations
about Reagan Andrews.  Claims she came on to him while she was out there
working on his opening.”  He placed his hands on his hips, and stared back at
me over the rims of his designer glasses.

My rage was instant.  Cold sweat collected on
the back of my neck as I stood up.  “Bullshit.  That’s absurd.  Ms. Andrews did
nothing of the sort.  Why is this even an issue?”

I would kill him. 
I needed to go find
her.

My father leaned forward and placed his hands
on my desk.  “Because his little complaint has potentially cost me three
million dollars!  Winston backed out of his hotel deal and is threating to file
a sexual harassment claim against Elite and Ms. Andrews personally!” 

Christ, I never saw this coming.  This had to
be the most asinine thing Tyler Winston had ever done to date.  “Look, I’ll
talk to Tyler.  This is obviously a gross misunderstanding on his part and I’ll
take care of it.”

My father laughed.  “You,” he emphasized this
by pointing his finger at my chest, “are going to stay out of this, do you hear
me?  It’s your damn fault this is happening.” 

It was my turn to laugh.  “My fault?  Tyler’s
an ass and it’s my fault?”

“Isaac says it was you who all but demanded
he hire that girl in the first place,” he accused.

“I simply recommended,” I corrected him. 
“And she’s proven to be an asset in the short time she’s been here, so how she
was hired is really a moot point.”  I dragged my hands through my hair.  “This shit
with Tyler is ludicrous.  I think it was he that made a pass at her and was
rejected.  This is him feeling sorry for himself.”  I cursed myself for not
having pressed Reagan for the details of that week in Vegas.

“Who knows what would have happened had she
stayed?” my father shouted.  “Oh yes.  Isaac was also quick to explain how you
demanded
her return early for some mysterious emergency on the J & J account.” 
His tone left little doubt that he knew exactly why I had requested Reagan come
back home.

Damn Isaac!  He was so far up my father’s ass
that every time Roger Preston took a shit, Isaac had to wipe his head.  “Isaac
is an idiot who will tell you whatever you want to hear, regardless of his
understanding—or lack thereof—of the matter.”

“Be that as it may, you are to stay out of
this.  I am absolutely serious about this, Nathanial.  You are to have zero
contact with her.  I’m not going to lose anything to the likes of Tyler Winston
over some skirt you couldn’t keep your dick away from.”

“We really gonna go there?” I challenged. 

My father said nothing, and just stared me
down.  And then, “One more thing.  Winston’s had a restraining order filed
against you, as well.  You’re not to contact him at all.  Just in case you were
planning to defy me and stick your nose in this anyway, well, you can’t.”  He
turned to leave, apparently satisfied I was now safely in check.

My mind reeled.  Of course, Tyler would know
as soon as I found out about his ridiculous lawsuit, the first thing I would do
was come to him.  I didn’t know when or how, but I would find a way around this
and I would take him apart with my bare hands.   “So, what now?”

My father stopped and looked back at me. 
“What do you mean, what now?  Now I have to meet with our lawyers and determine
our next steps.  And I—“

“I don’t care what you do.  I’m talking about
what happens to her.” 

He smirked.  I realized I was giving too much
away by my evident concern, but couldn’t see an alternative.  I had to make
sure she would escape this unscathed.  “She isn’t your concern any longer.”

“Let me be clear.”  My voice was low, calm,
even steady.  A complete contradiction to the emotions warring inside me. 
“This doesn’t touch her.  You do what you need to, make whatever underhanded
deals you need to make so this goes away.  But this doesn’t reach her.  She’s
done nothing to deserve this.  You hear me?  Nothing.”

He turned back to the door.  “Well,
Nathanial, it’s simple, really.  Cease your relationship and all personal
contact with her and this lawsuit will never see the light of day.  Think of
what will happen to Ms. Andrew’s career if this gets out.”

“Are you seriously blackmailing me right
now?” 

“Stop being so dramatic.  I am simply
reminding you how ugly these situations can be.  It’s obvious you believe
yourself to care about this girl.  Do her a favor and let her go.”  He didn’t
wait for further response and swept out of the room, slamming the door behind
him.

This wasn’t happening.  It just wasn’t.  Let
her go?  It wasn’t even an option.

For the first time in my life, I was
uncertain of what my father would do next.  I had basically given Reagan to him
on a platter by all but professing how I felt about her, and he was going to
use that—and her—to his advantage.  To keep me in line, as he saw it.  How he
was going to do that I didn’t know.   And it was the not knowing that had me
racing down to her office. 

I stepped off the elevator and hurried to her
door, ignoring Mr. Cooper as he tried to flag me down.  I didn’t knock, and
flung the door open to find Isaac and Reagan in what appeared to be deep
conversation.  She didn’t look upset or scared, though, so I took that as a
good sign.

“Find something to do,” I barked at Isaac,
not taking my eyes off of her.  Regardless of what was currently going on, I
was still Nathan Preston, and he was still just an employee. 

Isaac stood and gathered up a stack of
folders.  “She has a meeting in an hour,” he muttered as he walked past me out
of the office.

I shut the door.  I didn’t care what the rest
of her day looked like and Isaac could go to hell! 

“Nathan?  What’s wrong?”

“What did Isaac want,” I demanded, ignoring
her question.

 She raised an eyebrow.  “We were going over
some updates for a few accounts I needed help with.  Why?”

I moved away from the door and walked around
to where she sat, leaning against her desk.  “Nothing.  Sorry, it’s been one
hell of a morning.”

She reached out and took my hand.  “Is this
about what you asked me last night?”

God, yes.  Let her think that was all it
was.  I hadn’t even thought about that since my father had dropped his
bombshell.  And now I wasn’t even sure how living together would be possible,
all things considered.   I kissed her fingers.  “No, it’s okay.  I shouldn’t
have mentioned it this soon, but I—“

“I’m sorry, too.  I kinda freaked out on
you.  Can we talk about it?”

“Yes.”

She paused, as if waiting for me to go
first.  “Okay, then.  Nathan, are you sure me moving in is what you want?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t.”  Except
now there was a lawsuit to consider.  And a restraining order, and my father’s
mandate to end this thing now.  But she didn’t know any of that.  “But I realize
it was a bit premature to ask of you.   We barely know each other. . .things
about our pasts.  And who knows what will happen, right?”

Shadows clouded her gaze, and I could
practically see her instant withdrawal.   I was back-peddling and she knew it,
and was already preparing her mental walls of defense and protection.   I
needed to explain to her, let her know that this had nothing to do with her, and
everything to do with despicable men and their insatiable greed.  Men like my
father. 

But I couldn’t.  I had been given orders, and
while I usually complied with my father’s demands only if it suited me to do
so, this was different.  This was, at the heart of the matter, between me and
my father. 

Despite his claims otherwise, we had a legal
team worth every cent of the hundreds of thousands we paid them.  Tyler’s
lawsuit, while implying seriousness, was really nothing more than a nuisance. 
And had it not been for the fact that he had backed out of his business with
Elite, I may not have even been notified.   But Roger Preston hated to lose
money, and probably hated me as well.   I had played into his hand when I’d
made a few Reagan-specific demands of my own. 

He didn’t care about her.  She was just a
pawn in his feud with me.  He wanted to strip me of anything that could
remotely bring me true happiness, and this lawsuit gave him the perfect
opportunity.  Bringing her into this would accomplish nothing except ruining
her career, making her a casualty of our war, and giving my father the
satisfaction of further hurting me.  While I didn’t care what he did to me, I
did care about Reagan.  This would destroy her, and I had to prevent that.

“Right,” she said softly.  “You’re absolutely
right.  There are things about me you don’t know and I can’t tell you.  We
should probably just leave things as they are for now, I guess.”

I hated the distance in her voice.  “One day
at a time, remember?” 

She nodded, and I clenched my fingers against
the edge of the desk to keep from taking her in my arms.  I wanted to kiss her,
hold her, and tell her everything was okay, and that I wanted her to pack her
bags this instant, come stay with me and we’d work out the no-hugging thing
later.   That I had never wanted anything so much in my life. 

But there were the cameras.  I didn’t doubt
my father would be watching us like a hawk, ready to pounce the second he
sensed I was defying him.  And I needed some time first. 

“Hey,” I whispered.  “Look at me.  This
changes nothing.  Let’s just take a bit and get used to the idea, okay?”

Her eyes scanned my face, desperately seeking
an explanation.  “Okay.”  She picked up some files on her desk.  “Will I see
you later?”

I walked to the door and turned to face her. 
“Of course you will.”  I left and headed back to my office, my head racing with
thoughts of the decisions I’d made in the last ten minutes.  The things I knew
needed to be done over the next few days as a result of those decisions. 

I only hoped that in the end, it would be
worth it.

Reagan

I stared at the empty doorway after Nathan
left, anxiety taking root in the pit of my stomach.  He hadn’t even kissed me
before he’d left.  Something was wrong.

His asking me to move in last night had been
real.  There had been an intimacy, a closeness, while lying in the dark, that
I’d not felt with him before.  His words had been honest and sincere.  Why
hadn’t I spoken up?  I had been completely thrown off guard, had just laid
there with my mouth hanging open, and I was afraid he’d taken my silence as an
answer.  That I didn’t want to take the next step with him.  Which was
completely ridiculous.  I did.  There was a lot to think about, but I most
certainly did. 

Or, maybe I was imagining the sincerity of
the situation, and he’d asked in a state of post coital bliss.  People said
things they didn’t mean after sex all the time.   And maybe now he was trying
to find a way out of it.   It was the one thing about us that made sense.  Isn’t
that what I had come to expect?

Something was definitely wrong. 

My anxiety increased when Nathan cancelled
our lunch plans, claiming he had a meeting that was running over.  I told
myself this was perfectly normal, and not something I should misconstrue as a
neon sign he was tiring of me.  I told myself that, but it didn’t help.  Not
after the distance between us this morning.  He was still planning to come over
tonight, so there was still that, although the idea didn’t bring much comfort
as I muddled mindlessly through the rest of my day.  Maybe he was just coming
over to end it officially.

Were we official?  We were apparently
exclusive, but outside of Brooke, I wasn’t sure that anyone else really knew
about me and Nathan.  Could we be official if no one knew about us?  Could
something be officially ended, if it never really started—officially?

I shook my head at my thoughts.  This was
getting me nowhere.  He was still coming over tonight, and whatever happened,
would happen. 

Don’t borrow trouble.  Isn’t that what Helen
always said?

“You’re coming Sunday, right?”

I looked up and saw Bailey coming toward me. 
I had no idea what he was referring to.  He fell into step beside me as we
entered the elevator.  “Uhmmm—“

“Don’t even tell me you’re not.  It’s my
birthday, and James is throwing me a surprise party.”

Oh, right.  He’d mentioned it last week and
I’d completely forgot.  “How is it you know about it if it’s supposed to be a
surprise?”

Bailey shrugged.  “Because James is terrible
at these things.  But he’s so adorable thinking he’s pulling one over on me,
and so I pretend.”  We headed out into the lobby.  “I won’t take no for an
answer,” he warned.

I promised I would be there, and stepped to
the curb to hail a cab.  Four hours.  In just four hours, Nathan would be
coming over and I had much to do before then.

I stood in the living room, staring out the
window overlooking the street below.  Cars, lights, people. . .they all
streamed by in a blur of activity below me, but I barely registered any of them. 

I had called Gabby on my way home from the
office and, without divulging much detail, explained I was expecting a guest
and needed some privacy.  She was apparently an expert at reading between the
lines, because Brooke had left minutes ago for a girl’s night out.  I probably
should have felt guilty for underhandedly kicking Brooke out of her own
apartment, but I didn’t.  If I was going to get dumped, as it were, I certainly
didn’t want an audience.

The buzzer sounded, alerting me to Nathan’s
arrival, and my heart skipped a beat.  I wiped my hands on the black maxi dress
I was wearing, and heaved a deep breath. 
Keep cool, Reagan.  He’s here
because he wants to be.  Nothing has changed.  He told you that, so believe
him. . . until he gives you a reason not to.

I buzzed open the door and minutes later,
there he was. 

His eyes were bright as he stared at me, a
takeout bag in one hand, the other in the pocket of his faded jeans.  He’d
brought dinner, just like he always did.

Nothing has changed.

I stepped aside and let him in and then shut
the door behind us.  He placed the bag on the counter and turned to me.  The
brightness in his eyes had magnified, his pupils dilated, and I listened to his
deep breaths in the silence of the kitchen.  I recognized the signs and my
stomach clenched in anticipation, all anxiety momentarily dissipated. 

He struck swiftly, reaching out and lifting
me up off the ground.  My maxi dress bunched around my thighs as my legs
wrapped tightly around his waist.  He began walking back toward the door,
carrying me with him.  “Where’s Brooke?” 

I gasped as we slammed back against the door,
closing my eyes and digging my heels into his back.  “Out,” I whispered, desire
filling every capillary in my body, leaving me feeling light-headed. 

He growled against my neck, and I whimpered
as I felt his long fingers effortlessly rip my flimsy panties and brush my
soaked clit.  He fumbled with his zipper, and seconds later I screamed as he
thrust into me, the hard wooden door pressing against my back. 

“Nathan,” I panted, desire burning to a
feverish pitch.  “Nathan. . . .I can’t. . .ohmygod. . .”

He grunted in response, the door rattling
behind me in echo of his every thrust.   I sank my teeth into his t-shirt clad
shoulder, as his movements increased pace and I felt myself ready to explode. 
“Fuck yeah,” he whispered, and I shattered against him.  He halted, and lifted
his head to meet my eyes.  He wiped sweaty strands of hair from my face and,
still fully inside me, turned and carried me over to the couch.  He sat down,
and I was now straddling his lap. 

He leaned his head back against the cushions,
staring up at me through his heavy lashes.  I brought my knees up beside his
thighs and lifted myself up, and then back down.  He clutched my waist as I
settled into a rhythm.  I pulled his mouth to mine as I moved faster, taking in
every inch of his length.    I watched his face as he came, saw the tiny beads
of sweat along his temples, the way he clenched his jaw and his eyes fluttered
closed.   There was a sense of desperation in the frantic way he held me close,
whispering my name over and over.

Nothing has changed.

Please don’t let this be good-bye.