With Her Last Breath (13 page)

Maggie’s pickup pulled beside his; she slammed the door and then walked to him. “Scout ran away. I let her out before going to bed, and she took off.”

Nick opened the door wider to reveal the laundry baskets behind him, knocked aside with clean clothing tangled on the floor. Scout came to sit on the clothing, her tongue dangling in a happy dog smile.

“I am sorry. Come here, Scout. Let’s go home.”

“So I hear that you had a visit from Lorna.”

Maggie patted her jeaned thigh, a gesture that Scout should come. “Beth told you, no doubt.”

“It was quite the sight—Beth in those wobbly wedgie heel things, trudging across the vineyard at night. She wants to protect you. Her lecture to me was pithy, to say the least. Apparently my talk with Lorna didn’t register. I’ll try again.”

“She doesn’t bother me. I’ve been through worse…Nick, can you help Beth? I mean, get her a job and out of what she’s doing?”

Nick wondered about the “worse.” “I tried. That toughness is just her way of protecting her low self-esteem. She doesn’t believe how good she really is.”

“I don’t want anything more to happen to her,” Maggie stated firmly.

“Neither do I. You seem focused on Beth. She’s the first person you’ve asked about. There’s something in her that you respond to. But what about you? What happened to you that could make you want to protect Beth more than any other woman? Does she remind you of someone?”

Maggie looked up at him, her expression guarded. “Come on, Scout,” she repeated. “Let’s go home.”

“Okay, once more you’ve effectively shut me off—this time. You don’t want to answer questions and you’re not sticking around if I ask more. But Maggie, I have just one more—is there some reason you are not looking lower than my face?” Nick asked and reached out to touch her flushed cheek.

“You’re big and you’re only wearing boxer shorts. You haven’t shaved. You look tough. There’s water on your shoulders. That scar goes straight down the side of your thigh.”

The sensual tug went straight to the area beneath Nick’s shorts. “Anything else?”

“I want my dog.”

Take it easy
, Nick warned himself as her eyes darkened, and that funny little quiver moved through her taut body. If he reached for her, took her mouth beneath his—

Nick reached for a T-shirt and tugged it on. The jeans that followed helped confine a heaviness that needed easing. “So how’s business?”

Maggie seemed to relax a bit. “Slow.”

Keep it light, Nick thought. “It will pick up. People here are cautious. You’ll find there’s a difference between summer people and the ones who have lived here a long time. I’m getting ready to watch an old movie. Care to watch it with me? I’ll pop some corn.”

“I have an early morning client. I’d better be going. Thanks.”

When Scout moved toward Maggie, Nick knew his time was short. “Mom and Dad’s anniversary is in a week. You’re invited. They’re closing the restaurant for the night. Come if you can. Bring Beth and Celeste. It seems you’ve made good friends with them. They like the food.”

She hesitated and nodded. “Maybe.”

“Maggie?” Nick asked as she turned. “There’s just one thing more.”

Her lips were smooth and warm beneath his, slightly parted and sweet. The gentle taste of hunger caused him to linger to savor the rich-bodied flavor just beneath—vanilla and blackberry spice, he decided, mellow yet with just that nip to add character…

“What do you want from me, Nick?” she asked against his lips.

“To know you.”

The woman in her was wise. “You want more than that.”

“Yes,” he answered honestly, smoothing back the tendril that brushed her cheek. All the questions that he needed answered were carefully, momentarily placed aside. “Yes, Maggie, I do. I need someone with your laundry talent,” he added to soften the need deep within him. “I’ll cook and do the dishes. You do laundry. Yours, too.”

She smiled at the invitation, just a bit of entrancing warmth curling around her lips and eyes. “Ask your mother to help you. Let’s go, Scout.”

Nick watched her leave into the night. “Run, Maggie, run. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Why was Maggie so curious about Beth, wanting to help her? She seemed more interested in ways to help Beth than herself. Did Beth remind her of someone dear? Was there a link between that someone and the locket that Maggie held when she was troubled? And how did Beth fit into Maggie’s past and her closed doors?

One thing was certain and could not be placed aside—his need for Maggie despite all her mysteries.

The nightmare churned around Maggie, clawing at her. Glenda sobbing, aching for her children, needing money for her habit…Glenda high on drugs, or hungover and beaten in a sleazy hotel…Glenda, cold and pale on that morgue bench…

A man’s bitter words tearing at Maggie, hurting her…betraying her. Another man laughing at her, the men together—two friends, her ex-husband and another, keeping her away from Glenda. Maggie reached for Beth and found her sister, sweet and caring, a loving mother—Scout was barking…

Then Maggie was drowning—

She awoke to her own scream and Scout barking at the camper door to the loud insistent knock. Out of breath, Maggie lay for a moment, listening to Nick’s voice. “Maggie? Open the door!”

Over the sound of her heartbeat, birds were chirping and
dawn pried at the thin curtains. Maggie struggled out of the tangled sheet, stood too quickly, and bumped her head on a cabinet. She rubbed the pain and sat down on the bed. “Scout, stop barking.”

The door rattled and Nick called again, “Maggie?”

“I’m fine. Just a minute.”

“You’d better be fine,” he said darkly when she opened the door. His hands were on his hips and he was dressed for running. “That scream said you weren’t. I was running into town and I could hear it clear out on the road. It sounded like you were terrified, like you were being attacked. What’s wrong?”

She rubbed her head. “So I have nightmares and I talk in my sleep. Who doesn’t?”

Nick’s expression was grim, his black eyebrows gleaming with sweat and a scowl. “Not like that.”

“Leave me alone. Just get on with your run. You didn’t have to stop anyway. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.” She started to close the door, only to have Nick hold it open.

“You’re driving me nuts,” he stated as his gaze slowly took in her T-shirt and bare legs.

“Likewise.” Maggie continued rubbing the pain in her scalp.

“Let me look at your head. What happened?”

He reached for her and pushed her head down, inspecting the area she had been rubbing.

She felt like a sullen child—admonished and inspected for a bruise she could have avoided. “I know how to take care of myself.”

Nick lifted her head with his hand, turning her face side to side. “I’m used to taking care of my brother’s kids. You’re acting like one. So who is Glenda? You called out her name and you’ve been crying.”

For just that instant, Maggie wanted to slip into his arms and feel his strength. Her affection and fear for Beth had triggered the awful past and Glenda’s horrible path to destruction. “You can go now.”

Scout was pushing out the door, leaping on Nick. Nick smiled and waggled the dog’s head, pushing her down. Scout barked and ran in a circle, then leaped on Nick again.

Maggie closed the door and sat on her couch, trying to adjust from her nightmare to the man outside the camper. In a few minutes, the door opened and Nick ordered Scout to get in. When he spoke to Maggie, Nick’s voice was rough with anger and sarcasm. “Have a nice day, Maggie. Mom and Dad are wondering about you. Drop in if you can.”

After Nick left, Maggie sat, petting Scout, who looked hopeful. “Okay, I like him, too. But you can’t go over there when you want. We can’t get involved. There’s this man-woman thing going on with Nick, and he’s just a nice guy who misses his wife. Let’s just not get tangled up in that, okay? It wouldn’t be good for anyone. Don’t you go to his house anymore, do you hear?”

Nick.
Easygoing, nice-to-look-at man who was still in love with his wife. Neither one of them needed complications—

Nick smoothed the side of an oak barrel, then ran his hand over its bunghole. He appreciated the cool, dark aging cellar, the few barrels upon which he hoped to build a fine reserve wine. Almost two years ago, the grapes’ sugar content had been perfect for the wine that Nick wanted as his trademark specialty, good enough to take to the international competitions.

On the other side, boxes of various Alessandro bottled wines ready for shipping held his dreams of a major competing vineyard. The wines would be judged by experts at fairs and universities, at culinary events and regional competitions. Placing in the competitions raised the profile of Alessandro Winery, and building his business to an international level would take time.

Patience and time with Maggie was something else; the leash on his sensual need was close to breaking.

He’d tasted the woman beneath the protective exterior and
he’d seen her tears, that shattered, helpless expression when she’d opened the camper door.

Glenda.
Maggie had cried out the name, a terrified call, without anger.

Nick had wanted to tug her into his arms, to hold her safe.

But then, he just might be confusing her with Alyssa, and that wouldn’t do at all…

“I
f you leave now, I’m leaving with you.” Maggie reached for Beth’s hand when she felt the girl start to draw back.

“Well, that would ruin my chance for a fun time with my friends,” Celeste said.

In contrast to the usually quiet and candlelit Alessandros Italian Restaurant, the dining room was alive with light. Dean Martin’s voice crooned over children’s yells, men and women talking. Rosa and Anthony were busy at a table of food, while Dante had his arms loosely around two women as they swayed to the music. Tony had a child up on his shoulders, with his wife, Sissy, snuggled up to him, clearly in love.

Beth’s words mirrored her dark, resentful expression. “It’s an anniversary, for crying out loud, a family ‘do,’ grandparents, parents, and kids—babies, Maggie.
Kids and babies
. I’ve got no right to be here. I let Nick down—”

Maggie wondered briefly about Beth’s comment, but the blast of noise and people in the restaurant wiped the thought away. For once, Scout sat by her feet, not resisting the leash.

She tried not to look for Nick, but her quick scan of the crowd said he was busy, behind the bar, laughing as he refilled wineglasses. Framed by the dark polished wood, the glittering hanging wineglasses, he was big and gorgeous and heart-quivering masculine. Under the bright lights, his hair gleamed, waving neatly, the black long-sleeved sweater matching his rugged look.

Marco loomed in front of her, cutting off Maggie’s view of Nick. “Hey, girls. Glad you’re here. I’ve got a good knuckle bone for Scout in the back, if that’s okay, Maggie. I’ll just take her out the front door and around the back. This crowd is thick and vicious, packed with kids and sticky hands and women in high-heeled shoes.”

When Maggie looked at the bar, Nick was gone and her friends were talking.

“Beth, you talk too much, and I’m hungry. Maggie works me like a dog. I deserve this and if you’re part of the package, you’re coming with us,” Celeste said easily and from behind the girl, nudged her forward into the filled and noisy restaurant.

Beth refused to budge, staring at the dining room of people. “Bossy old biddy—”

Celeste laughed at Beth’s resentful tone. “Okay, do it for Maggie then.”

Maggie squeezed Beth’s hand. She didn’t understand her need for Beth, but it lay there, sweet and tender, easing the uncertainty inside her. “I want you both here. Rosa made a special point of coming to Ole’s and inviting me. The Alessandros have been nice to me and I won’t offend them.”

“I still don’t get why I have to—”

“Because we’re all the family Maggie has,” Celeste stated quietly.

Beth gripped Maggie’s and Celeste’s hands. “You got me into this. You stick by me or I’m leaving. That’s the deal.”

Rosa was making her way toward them, her smile warm and happy, her arms outstretched. She hugged each one of them. “Welcome to our home, our family. I am so happy you
are here. Come eat. Drink some of Nick’s wine, and share with us. We are so lucky—Anthony and me, so blessed.”

She turned to her husband, who was carrying a tray of food. “Anthony, come welcome our guests.”

Maggie barely registered his greeting when across the crowded, noisy room, she found Nick. He was wearing black jeans that matched his sweater. He held a sleepy, black-haired toddler in the crook of his arm, rocking it with the sway of his body. When the child nestled against his chest, he kissed its black curls with the ease of a man who gave affection easily.

He was a family man, meant to have a wife who fit into his life, and children…

As though drawn by her stare, he looked at Maggie, and his laughing smile slowly died. From across the room, the searing heat in his eyes caught her, held her, and closed away the noise of the room.

The primitive jerk of her senses told her that he wanted her right then, hot and raw and hungry to satisfy them both.

Maggie forced herself to breathe, to lick her suddenly dry lips. She couldn’t look away from that hot, dark intensity that said nothing could keep him from her.

Pinned by his look, now shielded just a bit by his lashes, Maggie trembled, feeling as if his hands were already on her, big and slightly rough, but very certain of what he wanted, what he would demand.

What
she
would demand was more frightening—mind blowing, forget everything for that moment, and take. Her body was already warming, softening, moistening—and he hadn’t touched her.

There was no promise of tenderness in his grim expression, nor of a seduction. He intended to claim her, possess her. It would be no easy, forgettable passage, but filled with hunger and demands and very, very slow and thorough…

Nick would take his time, and there would be no quick release from that passion…He would taste and savor and
take only what was given, returning it with an intensity that would brand her—

Maggie had never felt such a primitive sense of a man’s desire, not even in lovemaking.

Lovemaking? That wasn’t what Nick was offering. It was deeper, darker, more terrifying—because she wanted just the same, a surrender to honest passion.

When a middle-aged woman laughed and reached to hug Nick, his eyes didn’t leave Maggie’s. Instead, they flickered, and his slow, genuine smile down at the woman was warm as she eased the baby from him. And just that easily, Nick turned from Maggie as though he’d never seen her.

No longer riveted by Nick’s look, Maggie slowly realized that her hand was on her throat, and her other hand was gripping Beth’s.

“You’re killing my hand,” Beth muttered. “It’s supposed to be me who’s scared, remember?”

Dante moved toward the women, and Beth’s indrawn breath hissed by Maggie’s ear. “How do I look?”

“Sweet,” Maggie said, glancing at Beth’s loose cream sweater, denim skirt, and fringed, knee-high suede boots. With her naturally blond short hair and scrubbed face, she looked like a teenager.

“I should have worn all my makeup. I feel naked. You shouldn’t have made me take it off,” Beth grumbled.

“That’s just self-protection, your armor, like a knight going into battle. You don’t need it when you’re with us,” Celeste returned in a distant tone, as if her mind was somewhere else.

Dante’s slow look down Maggie’s green sweater and slacks—the only good outfit she’d managed to keep—was pure male appreciation. He held her away just a bit to look down at her high black strappy heels, a purchase from the local thrift shop. “Nice. Saucy. I love a woman in heels,” he said in a deep voice that held a hint of sensual attraction.

“You look nice, too,” Maggie said, returning the compliment.

With ease, Dante moved between Beth and Maggie, his arms around their waists. “Sorry, Celeste, no room for you,” he teased.

Celeste had turned pale and Maggie touched the other woman’s arm. Beneath the flowing mystical caftan of moon and stars, Celeste’s body was rigid and her eyes glazed, fixed on Maggie. “Celeste?”

The psychic shook her head as though trying to clear it. She smiled briefly, but her eyes were still searching Maggie’s face. “I was thinking about food and how much you’ll make me do to work it off.”

“Get your hands off me, Alessandro,” Beth was saying.

But Dante had turned his attention to Maggie, his finger lifting her chin until they stood close and intimate. “I’m glad you came. Don’t let the kid spoil your fun.”

“Hey, Alessandro. I was forced to come.”

“You’ll live through it,” Dante responded easily.

Someone called out for Nick to pour another tray of wine, and Dante looked as if he’d just been reminded of something. “Oh, yeah. Nick. Listen, Maggie, I’m the much better deal. Let me fix you a plate of spaghetti and I can tell you how wonderful I am.”

Beth snorted and crossed her arms, looking off into the party as if disinterested.

“Come on, Beth,” Maggie urged, sliding her arm through the girl’s. “Let’s get that free food.”

As Dante moved them through the crowd, Maggie turned to see Nick leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, grimly staring at her. Seemingly unaware of Nick, Dante pulled her closer to whisper in her ear. “When you’re ready, I’ll take you out on the lake. The relaxation would do you good.”

Maggie smiled and eased away slightly from his intimate pose. “Thanks. Not yet.”

He leaned closer and flicked the tiny round beads of her earring until they danced. “I like you. But I’m getting a little tired of seeing my big brother wonder about you. I’d like to kick up his action a little bit. He moves too slow.”

“I’m not interested in action, but you definitely don’t move slow,” she said, teasing him.

He smirked a little, charming her. “Can I help it if I’m every woman’s dream?”

“Try that on someone else, okay? But thanks for the interest. A girl needs that once in a while.” Dante was a friend in a good mood, and Maggie intended to enjoy the night. For the first time in years, she felt feminine and light and certain of herself. She’d enjoyed dressing for the evening, and being with Celeste and Beth. They were almost family, surrounding her with warmth, teasing, and understanding without questions.

Jerry moved close to her, taking his time to admire her clothes. “I’m still available, beautiful. Anytime.”

“Thanks. You’re looking good, Jerry. Did you notice that girl in the corner checking you out?”

Jerry looked at the girl, and it seemed as if his whole body had locked onto her. “Debra Morales. She just moved into town and came with my cousin Mary. I’ve been trying to date her. Better go. Sorry. See you.”

After Jerry left, Maggie ran her fingers through her hair, enjoying the sensual brush against her skin, and suddenly the room seemed to quiet as her eyes locked with Nick’s dark intensity.

Then a child laughed and ran by her and Anthony was giving her a big hug, lifting her off her feet, and she gave herself to enjoying the night.

Dante’s attentions continued through dinner and introductions to an extensive family, including Tony’s children. Sissy, Tony’s petite wife, took Maggie’s arm. “If you only knew how good it is to see Dante and Nick on their toes. Usually women are running after them. I hear you are wonderful at Ole’s. I’d love for you to drop in at nap time and give me some pointers on exercises—I’ll pay, of course. Maybe we could set up regular sessions.”

“I’d love to.” It was Maggie’s first real offer as a private trainer, and she was thrilled.

Still smiling and happy, she turned to see Nick and Dante, standing side by side against the wall, considering her. The double jolt of prime masculinity—all dark waving hair and expressive eyes, the height and strength—startled her.

“Aren’t they gorgeous?” Sissy whispered. “If you only knew how many women are jealous of you, including Lorna.”

“You know, Lorna could have another reason for wanting Nick to be interested in her. It’s an old game. Maybe there’s someone she wants to make jealous.”

Sissy shook her head. “No one that I know.”

Nick raised his wineglass to Maggie in a toast, and her fingers trembled. From across the room, the sensuality between them stirred into life. He wasn’t flirting as Dante had, he was merely giving her notice that the hot, simmering tension between them waited to be fed.

Maggie enjoyed the next hour, the simple talk, Dante’s open flirtation. Beth relaxed slightly. Celeste, while pleasant, seemed too quiet, almost alone in the crowd, as if she were trying to fit pieces of a puzzle together.

When the crowd waited for the Alessandros to speak before cutting their cake, Nick eased beside Maggie.

“Having a good time?” he asked against her temple.

Dante’s games—to make Nick react—didn’t matter, because when Nick first saw Maggie’s reddish hair loose on her shoulders, that clinging green sweater and slacks, he’d wanted the woman beneath the clothing, beneath the mystery.

He amended the thought: He wanted her dressed in nothing but those sexy high heels.

Because he was a methodical man, he couldn’t rest until he knew what ran behind those changeable green-brown eyes, beneath the recognition by a woman of the man desiring her.

The impact of her body softening and quivering had hit him from across the crowded room. Without touching Maggie, he knew how she would feel beneath him, how hot and tight—he could almost feel her against him, moving as
smoothly as the lake’s waves, or in hunger, a tempest, strong and hungry…

But he wanted more, a lot more. He wanted to know why nightmares plagued her, why she was so alone, and more than that, he wanted her trust and her friendship. He didn’t like the lick of dark anger within him, the questions that were left unanswered, even when she had responded to him.

“You look nice.”

“Thank you. So do you.”

Small talk,
Nick thought,
keep it rolling
. Maggie looked easier tonight, as if she’d temporarily packed away her shadows. “How’s business?”

After a hesitation, Maggie said, “I’m hoping it will pick up.”

Nick nodded, pacing his questions while his parents spoke of the happy, fun years between them.

“It’s crowded in here. Care to step outside?”

Maggie’s dark green eyes turned to him. “Exactly what business did you have with Beth? She’s only a girl, Nick. Very young and vulnerable despite her years.”

The direct hit surprised him, as though Maggie’s anger had been brewing in the last few minutes. “I like Beth.”

“How?” The word was another hit that nettled.

Nick took Maggie’s arm and maneuvered her through the crowd to the family kitchen, which was full of children seated at a table, their dinners monitored by hovering adults.

When Nick released her on the back porch, Maggie turned to him, and there was nothing cold about her anger. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her. “Don’t…ever…man-handle me again.”

Women certainly had their moods, he thought, contrasting the sensual sparks earlier against Maggie’s temper now. “What’s this about Beth?”

“She said she’d let you down. Exactly how did she let you down, Nick?”

No woman had ever made him account for his actions. But then no other woman was Maggie, all wound up tight and
passionate about protecting her friend. “Take it easy, Maggie. She’s a good kid. I tried to help her, that’s all. Dante has too—he’s actually paid her to come down to the boatyard, trying to get her to learn bookkeeping.”