Depth Perception (33 page)

"Don't think about him," Nick ground out. "This is about us. Only us."

He didn't ask for permission when he pulled her to the edge of the counter. She could feel the tension winding up inside her. The need building to a crescendo. Moving closer, he put his hands on either side of her face and kissed her deeply.

Nat felt herself begin to free-fall. Vaguely, she was aware of his hands sliding down, over her shoulders to her waist, her hips.

"Open to me," he whispered.

But she was already opening to him, and in one smooth motion he slid into her and went deep. He was thickly built, and for an instant discomfort overrode pleasure. But she was well lubricated and within a few seconds her muscles relaxed enough so that she could accommodate him.

"Ah, sweet Jesus." Nick went perfectly still, his body rigid, and he simply held her for the span of several heartbeats.

''Nick .. ."

"Don't move."

Understanding dawned, and it sent a small thrill through her to realize he was struggling to hold back, to prolong the pleasure of the moment. "It's okay," she whispered and put her arms around his shoulders where his muscles were coiled and tight. She could feel sweat coming through his shirt. Even though he wasn't yet moving within her, she could feel her muscles beginning to contract around him, the waves beginning to build.

"This isn't going to wait," he said.

"I think you're right." Tilting her pelvis, she took him more deeply inside her.

"Nat ... " Closing his eyes, be put his hands on her hips in an effort to still her.

But the waves were breaking. swamping her with sensation. As if realizing this was a battle he was destined to lose, he began to move, slowly at first and then at a frantic pace.

She had never seen Nick Bastille unshielded. Since the day she'd met him, he'd kept his thoughts, his emotions locked down tight. But as she accepted him into the deepest reaches of her body, she saw the man behind the hard facade. The man who had been hurt and betrayed. A man who'd had six years of his life stolen. A man who'd lost his only son.

A good man who'd been to hell and back and survived.

Looking into the depths of his eyes, she knew this man who made love to her with such utter tenderness would never hurt another human being. That all the things she'd read about him in the newspaper, heard about him from the town gossipmongers, were not true. And the truth of that devastated her.

His arms tightened around her. A powerful shudder racked his body as he poured his seed into her. And, whispering her name, he held her like there was no tomorrow.

#   #   #

Nick had known sex would be good after six years of celibacy. But he hadn't expected it to move him so profoundly he couldn't speak. Or to touch him so deeply he had to close his eyes and take a few moments to get a grip on his emotions.

He'd missed sex desperately when he'd been in prison. For six unbearable years he'd harnessed his frustration, turned it into positive energy. He'd used that energy to beef up his body, running nearly ten miles a day and working out in the weight room when he had the freedom to do so.

Tonight, everything he'd missed poured over him in a torrent that was as powerful and bittersweet as the promise of a first kiss. The realization that he was still human enough to want with such desperation made him more than a little uneasy. He knew firsthand that wanting was a dangerous thing for a man who couldn't have.

After making love in the kitchen, he swept her into his arms and carried her upstairs. By the time they made it to the master bedroom he was hard again and aching with an intensity that bordered on pain. But if he'd thought the physical release of an orgasm would ease the sharp edge of need that had been driving him crazy for days now, he'd been wrong. Making love to Nat made him even more desperate to have her again.

They made love a second time on the bed. It was slower, not as frantic. Somehow be managed to make it last long enough to bring her to peak. And as he'd listened to her cry out his name, he swore to himself this would have to be enough.

But he knew it wouldn't.

"Hey."

Something went warm and soft inside him when Nat offered him a sleepy smile. She was incredibly lovely in the dim light slanting in from the window. And even though his thoughts were troubled, he found himself smiling back at her.

"I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't," she said. "I'm just ... not used to this."

"Neither am I. But I think I like it."

She laughed and Nick felt a hard squeeze of emotion. He liked the sound of her laughter. Loved the feel of her against him. He was lying on his back. Her head was resting on his shoulder, and she was snuggled against him with her leg thrown over his. He wondered what he'd done to deserve this little slice of heaven.

She propped herself up on an elbow. "Do you always brood after sex?"

"Only when it's over too quickly.” Embarrassed because that much was true. he smiled. "I'm a little rusty."

Grinning back at him, she tsked. "Maybe we need to keep working and see if we can sharpen up your skills a little."

Nick threw his head back and laughed. At the same time he felt the same weird squeeze of emotion in his chest. Tightening his arm around her, he pulled her back down and kissed her temple. “I'm a slow learner,
chere.
But with enough practice, I'm betting I'll eventually get the hang of it."

She raised her gaze to his. "Nick, being with you like this ... I didn't think I'd ever feel like this again. I thought that part of me had died."

“That part of you is alive and well,
chere.
It's been there all along. But I'm glad I could help you find it."

She traced her finger over the tattoo of a dragon on his shoulder. It was a large, intricate design. The work of an artisan with imagination and an eye for color and scale.

“Where did you get the tattoos?" she asked.

He glanced down at the dragon and gave her a half smile. "Guy by the name of Sanchez. He owned a tattoo parlor in New Orleans, made the mistake of thinking he could make more money dealing dope. Not a bad cell mate once I got to know him."

She thought about that a moment. "Prison must have been incredibly difficult."

Nick didn't want to talk about it. Invariably, it made him feel like a fool. But he saw the way she was looking at him. The questions in her eyes. After everything they'd just shared, he figured he at least owed her an explanation.

"What happened?" she pressed.

“I was stupid. Blind. Naive." He smiled, but it felt false on his face. There was nothing even remotely humorous about the hellish years he'd spent behind bars. "Just the kind of guy you want to get tangled up with, right?"

''Nobody knows better than I do that things aren't always as they appear." When he didn't continue, she reached out and touched his face. "What happened, Nick?"

Over the years he'd trained himself not to think about the turn of events that had ultimately landed him in prison. During those first unbearable months, the injustice of it had nearly driven him over the edge. It had filled him with rage and bitterness. Turned him into a man he didn't want to be. Because he hadn't had a choice, he'd learned to live with it, but the story would never be an easy one to tell.

“I had a lot of big ideas as a kid," he said after a moment. "Dreams, I guess."

"Dreams are a good thing for a young person," she said.

Drawing her against him, he pressed a kiss to her temple. "Sometimes dreams just breed discontent." Remembering, he sighed. "My mama died when I was sixteen. Pop was pretty broken up. We both were. But once she was gone, he got bitter. We fought a lot. I didn't want to be in Bellerose. I didn't want to end up like my old man. Don't get me wrong; I've got nothing against hard work and I'm sure as hell not afraid of it. But I didn't want to spend my life breaking my back and barely eking out a living only to have Fate snatch it away one piece at a time when I got old.

"By then, I'd met Tanya. She was from a poor family. Her old man was a mean drunk and liked to beat on her. I figured it wouldn't be long until he started doing more. So I asked her to leave with me, and she said yes. I was seventeen."

"So, you ran away?"

''We went to New Orleans. We rented a dumpy little apartment near the French Quarter. I landed a job at one of the upscale restaurants. Cleaning toilets, I think." He gave a self-deprecating laugh. "But I liked the sparkle of the place. I liked the people. The music. The glitter." He shrugged. "I worked two jobs and went to school at night. My second job was as bartender in a five star hotel. I was good and moved up fast. I took classes at night. I was arrogant and ambitious and a little bit reckless; I wanted it all, and I wasn't afraid to go after it.

“That's when I met Race Roberson. He was managing a club on Bourbon Street. He was from New Zealand—or so he said—and wore two thousand dollar suits. He tossed around a lot of cash. Drove a fancy car. Let me tell you, this farm boy was impressed as hell. We became friends. We partied together. Eventually, he hired me to manage his club. A few months later, one of the historic buildings down the street came up for sale. The owner had filed for bankruptcy and the place was going at a steal. It was the perfect location for a restaurant. I had the experience. Race Roberson had the capital."

He sighed. ''We became business partners. Had an attorney draw up a simple partnership document for us. We bought the building and began renovating it. Three months later we opened The Tropics. It was a jazzy club and restaurant. Lots of dark wood and palms. We hired the best chefs in the city. The best bartenders. The place was going to be a huge success. I was working a lot, maybe eighty or ninety hours a week. But I loved it. I was in my element. I knew Tanya wasn't happy about my being gone so much, but I always figured once the place was running smoothly, I could hire an assistant manager and cut back on my hours.

"Race took care of the books. We had a CPA, and it wasn't until after the place was open for six months that I was told we hadn't yet turned a profit. I was stunned. Race had called a meeting with me and the CPA. I couldn't believe we weren't making money. The place was doing a great business. Sure, labor and food costs were high, but not that high.

"Race and the CPA and I sat in the office above the restaurant and came up with a business plan. Ways to cut costs and increase profits. Once the CPA left, Race and I had a few drinks. He sat down at the desk and asked me if I wanted to burn the place and collect the insurance money. I didn't consider myself naive, but I couldn't believe he was asking me that The Tropics was my dream. I told him I could make it work. I just needed more time. I told him not to bring it up again."

Lying back on the pillow, Nick looked up at the ceiling, surprised that even after so many years, talking about it got his heart rate up. "I should have stopped trusting him at that point. Race Roberson was a little too slick. Instead, I went back to my routine of eighty hour weeks. I started watching the costs a little more closely." He ground his teeth. "Two weeks later the restaurant burned to the ground."

"Oh, Nick."

''Tanya and I had a nice house in the Garden District. I got the call at five in the morning and rushed over. But the place was fucking gone. I couldn't believe it. I suspected Race had something to do with it. I went over to his place in Metairie ready to knock his head off. But he swore to me he hadn't done it. He said the place was old. The wiring was probably bad. He was a damn good liar.

“The next day I found out one of the cleaning crew had died in the blaze. A guy with a wife and two kids, for God's sake. The police had a lot of questions. The fire marshal and ATF got involved. I cooperated fully, hut I never mentioned that Race had suggested we torch the place for the insurance money. I didn't want to cast any suspicion.

"A few days later the fire marshal ruled the blaze arson. Some type of accelerant had been used. Two weeks later, two detectives came to the house with a warrant for my arrest. They searched the house. Cuffed me while Tanya screamed her head off. They took me down to the station. I knew I was in trouble. But there was no doubt in my mind it would be cleared up. I wasn't too worried. I made the mistake of thinking all I had to do was tell the truth. I spent the night in jail. I hired a lawyer.

"But Race Roberson was one step ahead of me. He'd already given the police a sworn statement telling them I had suggested we torch the place for the insurance money. Then I found out the police found a container of naphtha paint thinner at my house--the same kind of accelerant that had been used to start the fire. By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late.”

Nat stared at him, her chest tight with outrage. "But you had the truth on your side. You had a lawyer. Didn't the truth come out during the trial?"

He closed his eyes briefly, then continued without looking t her. ''I'd been incredibly blind," he said. "It wasn't until the trial that I found out Tanya and Race had been together."

"Oh, no ... "

"She and I had been having problems. Serious problems. Brand was only two years old. I'd been working a lot of hours, leaving her alone all hours of the day and night. ... "

"But you were working to make your dream come true. To make her dream come true. She was your wife. Your partner."

"Not her dream, Nat. Mine. And I was blinded by it." He grimaced. “That made Tanya an easy mark for Race Roberson. All he had to do was flash a little cash, take her for a ride in his Jaguar, pour on the charm, and he had her eating out of his hand. So, while I was working like a fool, he was coming on to my wife. He convinced her I was sleeping around with one of my waitresses. He told her she deserved better, that I was going to leave her. Then he seduced her."

Nick let out a breath, surprised that even after all this time the betrayal hurt. "He told her I'd approached him about torching The Tropics. He said if the restaurant burned, she should tell the police the truth. That she shouldn't feel any loyalty to me. He told her he was going to Los Angeles to start over. He promised to take her and Brand with him. By then, she was crazy in love with the guy."