His for the Taking (8 page)

Her face flushed and her eyes flashed, and Nick saw that she’d gone in a moment from sorrow to embarrassment to anger.

‘Oh, well, aren’t I lucky, to be in the presence of the expert in crying women.’

‘I didn’t mean that.’

‘What did you mean, then? You’re glad to have the opportunity to show what a nice guy you are by comforting the poor little heiress when she’s upset about her auntie leaving her fifty million dollars? What are you going to do next, offer to buy me an ice cream with a cherry on top?’

‘Zoe, be reasonable. You’re upset. I was talking to you. That’s all.’

She jumped to her feet. ‘So now you’re a nice,
reasonable
guy. Gee, your life must be good, especially with all those crying women to put your arm around.’ She brushed the grass of her skirt with savage movements. ‘Well, Mr Boy Scout, I don’t need your comfort or your trees or your reasonableness. I’m just fine on my own.’

And with that she turned on the heel of her running shoe and sprinted off.

This time, waiting in the hallway, Nick wasn’t as patient.

He sat back against the wall, his arms crossed on his chest, his foot tapping on the carpeted floor. Zoe had been gone for over three hours now and his backpack, which contained his wallet, was behind that locked door.

When she’d run off he’d let her, figuring she’d burn off a little steam and then come back. After half an hour under the tree he’d decided to look in the direction she’d run in, but although he was reasonably competent at tracking people and animals in the wilderness it was totally impossible in New York if he didn’t know where she was headed. He’d jogged a couple blocks, seen a subway station, realised she could be anywhere in the city by now, and slowly walked back to Xenia’s apartment.

Where he’d been sitting waiting for her ever since, his blood getting hotter and hotter.

She was impossible, aggressive, capricious, and sarcastic, and she had no right to lash out at him for doing nothing but trying to make her feel better.

She had no reason to run off and leave him.

Nick got up and paced the length of the hallway. He was hungry and thirsty and fed up and if she didn’t show up with the keys to the apartment soon he was going to break the door down. Then she’d see what a ‘nice guy’ he was.

He swore and punched the tastefully papered wall. Why was this woman winding him up so much? He’d only known her a couple of days, and only by chance. He’d tried to help her and she’d thrown it back in his face, and that should be the end of it.

If the keys to his truck didn’t happen to be locked behind that door, he’d be out of New York, father or no father.

The elevator dinged and Nick whirled around. Zoe stepped out, and he strode towards her.

‘Listen,’ he started, and then he stopped both talking and walking, because Zoe had changed.

She wore low-slung faded jeans that fit her as if they’d been made for her, and a bright pink T-shirt that clung to her top. The shapeless black jacket had been replaced by a tight brown leather jacket that followed the curve of her waist.

These were her own clothes, clothes that fit her body. And she had a good body.

No, not just good. A great body.

She was slim-hipped and strong-shouldered, but she had just enough curves to make her incredibly feminine. Her waist was slender, her legs long and obviously muscular underneath the faded blue jeans. The firm lines of her limbs contrasted with the soft roundness of her breasts and the lushness of her mouth.

Nick swallowed, all the angry words he’d been meaning to say deserting him.

‘Hi,’ he said. ‘You look good.’

Which was an understatement, as well as a revelation.

She was carrying a big canvas bag over one shoulder and a carrier bag in one hand; she put them down and scratched the back of her neck as if she were uncomfortable.

‘So it’s like this,’ she said. ‘I hate people seeing me crying. So I got mad.’

He remembered the look of utter humiliation that had crossed her face when she’d looked up from her knees, tears streaking her face. Until this moment, he’d been too angry to think about what it might mean.

‘Okay,’ he said.

‘I also hate being condescended to.’

Condescending to her? The most ornery woman in New York?

Wisely, Nick remembered that Zoe was attempting some sort of apology and he restrained his answer. ‘I wasn’t trying to be condescending.’

‘All right. I’ll accept your apology.’

Nick couldn’t help smiling at that. ‘I don’t think I’ve apologised.’

‘Yeah, well, you’re looking sorry.’ She smiled at him and held out her hand. ‘Truce?’

‘Truce.’

He’d shaken her hand before, and hadn’t noticed how her grip was firm and her skin was warm and smooth. He did this time.

‘So, you’re waiting out here for your dad still.’ Her expression was back to teasing. ‘I take it he hasn’t shown up yet, or I wouldn’t have to worry about seeing you again.’

‘He hasn’t shown up yet. I was waiting for you. All my stuff, including my money, is in the apartment.’

She nodded. ‘Bet you’re hungry.’

‘Bet I am.’

‘You should remember that before you piss me off next time,’ she said, but she winked. ‘I’ve got some groceries so we can make something to eat.’

‘Good.’ He didn’t move. ‘Did you come back for any reason besides getting an apology from me?’

She shrugged. ‘I thought about it on the way back to my apartment in the Bronx. I’ve got to take some time off work to sort out Xenia’s funeral and I figure I’ll help you find your dad while I’m at it. And it’s going to be easier to look through Xenia’s papers properly if I’m staying here.’ She pulled the apartment keys out of her jacket pocket.

‘You said this morning it was too private.’

‘That was before I knew Xenia left everything to me. I figure if she didn’t want me to see something, she’d have gotten rid of it.’

‘Thanks,’ he said, and he was rewarded by the sight of her smile, white teeth against pink lips.

‘No problem. One of us might as well get something worthwhile out of this whole inheritance thing.’

‘Besides the fifty million dollars?’

‘Xenia knew I didn’t want her money,’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t want it now.’

‘Maybe that’s why she left it to you.’

‘I wish she hadn’t.’ She compressed her mouth, and shook her head as if she was clearing it. ‘Anyway, this talking isn’t going to get you fed.’

‘It certainly isn’t.’ He bent and picked up her canvas bag, and grunted at its unexpected weight. ‘What have you got in here, bricks?’

‘Dumb-bells. I use them for training.’ She took hold of the strap and tugged it away from him. ‘I can handle it.’

He considered arguing about it, but their truce was too new and, besides, he liked the way the straining of her arm and back muscles made her breasts thrust forward. He gave it to her, and she slung it onto her shoulder and picked up the carrier bag.

‘By the way, I’m curious,’ she said, unlocking the door. ‘Did you see how my family reacted to the news that I’ve inherited fifty million dollars? I wasn’t looking.’

‘They were pretty surprised.’

That was an understatement. Every one of the Drakes had been in eye-bugging, jaw-dropping shock. The youngest sister Cindy had actually gasped when the lawyer had made the announcement.

Zoe let out a sharp laugh as she went into the apartment, Nick close behind her. ‘Yeah, I bet they were surprised.’ They reached the kitchen and Zoe dropped the bags and turned to him, a smile on her lips. It was wide, lopsided, and naughty.

‘I bet they think I’m going to go right out and blow the whole inheritance in Vegas or something. Come to think of it, that would really piss them off.’ She bit her lip and looked as if she were considering it.

Nick laughed. ‘It would take serious dedication to lose fifty million dollars in Vegas.’

‘That’s true. Maybe I should do something requiring much less effort.’ She began pulling packages from the grocery bag. ‘Did you see how they looked at me when they thought I was shacking up with you in my dear departed great-aunt’s apartment?’

‘I did. Why didn’t you tell them the whole truth?’

She shrugged. ‘I guess I can never disappoint them if I confirm their worst suspicions, right?’ She held up a package of pasta. ‘Spaghetti all right with you?’

‘Somehow I didn’t expect my first meal with a multimillionairess to be spaghetti.’

‘Hey, you can take the girl out of the Bronx but you can’t take the Bronx out of the girl.’ She pulled out a head of lettuce and a tomato and tossed them in a high arc in his direction. ‘In honour of your apology, I’ll even let you make the salad.’

Nick caught the lettuce in one hand and the tomato in the other. Zoe bent to get some pots and pans out of a cupboard, affording him a view of her shapely behind. Nick couldn’t help but stare.

She most definitely wasn’t his type. Nick liked delicate, small women. Women he could tuck under his arm, carry things for, feel tall and protective next to. Women with small hands and feet and high voices and soft bodies. Women, as a matter of fact, a lot like Zoe’s sisters.

But Zoe had something, all right. Enough of something for him to want to cross the kitchen and put his hands all over her.

More than that, actually. He wanted to cross the kitchen, turn her around to face him, bury one hand in her golden hair, spread the other against her perfect backside, and kiss her senseless. And then he wanted to lift her onto the kitchen counter and pull those jeans down her long, strong legs.

‘We can look through Xenia’s desk after supper,’ she said.

Her voice brought him back to reality. Fortunately, she was turned away from him so she couldn’t see what his little spontaneous fantasy had done to him. Quickly, he pulled out a chair and sat himself and his raging erection down at the kitchen table.

‘So what are you going to do when you see your dad again?’ she asked, and he welcomed the opportunity to think about something other than her wrapping those legs around his waist.

‘I want to ask him why he left and didn’t come back. And I want to tell him what he did to us. You know, my sister was convinced for a long time that he left us because she wasn’t good enough.’

Nick shook his head, remembering how fierce he’d felt when Kitty had told him that, one tearful night after her high-school prom. ‘She spent a long time feeling that she could never succeed; she went through a divorce and everything.’

‘Does she want to see your dad, too?’

‘I called her to tell her I was coming down here and she was okay with it, but she says she’s past it now. She’s gotten married again and she’s really happy. I think she feels that love conquers everything, even a bad parent.’

She opened a can of tomatoes with quick, agile turns of her wrist. ‘Do you agree?’

‘I think that love would have to be pretty damn special to conquer everything.’

‘You’re right. It would.’ She held a knife out to him by the handle. ‘You going to do any work, Boy Scout? I thought you were hungry.’

Fortunately, talking about his father had deflated his arousal pretty effectively. Nick stood, took the knife, and brought his vegetables to the counter where she’d set up a chopping board for him. He was standing close to her, and for the first time he noticed she had a clean, citrusy scent. She must have put on perfume at her apartment, as well as changed her clothes.

He imagined stepping closer to her and pressing his lips against the column of her throat and breathing in more of that perfume.

Uh, uh. Down, Nick.

Talking about his father had distracted him from desire, but it should tell him something else, too. He was only in NewYork for a short time. And he had no intention of striking up a relationship with somebody whom he’d be leaving soon. He wasn’t that kind of a guy.

He’d spent nearly twenty-four hours in Zoe’s presence without noticing that he was attracted to her. He’d just have to un-notice it.

CHAPTER SIX

P
LEASE
, L
ORD, MAKE
him have some clothes on.

Zoe sent up the quick prayer as she walked into the building, waved at Ralph, and waited for the elevator to come.

She’d been doing so well for the past twenty-four hours. She’d managed the afternoon and the evening with Nick constantly by her side without jumping on him. Of course, her hands had been full most of the time because she’d been going through the papers in her great-aunt’s desk and study, but having her hands full had never stopped her from making a fool of herself in the past.

And her great-aunt’s papers weren’t exactly a distraction. For somebody who had seemed to lead as interesting a life as Xenia’s, her personal effects were distinctly ordinary. No juicy letters, no diaries, not even a computer. Zoe hadn’t found much more than bills, and while Nick had pointed out that the phone bills might, eventually, direct them towards Eric Giroux, Zoe had also pointed out that they would have to call every number listed on them to find out. Nothing else seemed even remotely connected to Nick’s father.

And just as importantly, nothing gave her any clues about why her great-aunt had given her everything.

On the personal restraint side, though, she’d done okay. She hadn’t touched, she hadn’t drooled, she’d barely stared, even through dinner, when she’d had to sit across from him and endure the horrific torture of being reminded that this man was very sexy when he ate.

She had, even, beyond all expectations, managed to sleep knowing that his body was in the boxroom next to hers, separated from her by a single internal wall.

And then this morning, of course, he’d taken a damn shower.

The elevator doors dinged and Zoe went inside, crossing her arms over her breasts in some pathetic form of self-control, because the memory of seeing Nick wet from the shower on his way from the bathroom to his room, water clinging to the dark hair on his head and on his chest, smelling of warmth and soap and shaving foam, made her want to both melt and scream.