Nicole: Star Crossed Lovers (A Wish for Love Series Book 2) (11 page)

"I don't need a phenomenal memory to recall how my son looked then.  Not sleeping, not eating, not shaving, working like a dog and every night bringing a different girl to his bed.  You think your mother didn't notice?"

"Of course not.  It never entered my mind that you wouldn't notice." 

The line shook with her laughter.

"So, when do we see you?" he heard his father's voice on the line.

"We finish up here in less than a week.  I hope to convince Nicole to come back to New York with me. We'll come as soon as we arrive."

"You promise?" his mother broke in.

"I promise," he replied. He hung up but it rang again.  Daniel repeated to Jack Stern the explanations he had given a few minutes ago to his parents.

"And how is Diane?" Jack inquired. "I spoke to Rod today and he claims she's been impossible these past few weeks, driving you and the rest of the crew nuts."

"That's true enough, but don't worry, I can handle Diane.  Three more days till we stop filming and after that I don't care if I never see her again."

Jack laughed.  "I'm counting on you.  See you soon."

Nicole's phone rang and when Daniel saw the name on the screen he answered.  Ann wanted to hear the whole story and Daniel briefly described the chain of events.  Nicole was still sleeping he told her, but she would no doubt be delighted if Ann were to join them for dinner.  He liked Ann and was grateful to her for standing by Nicole in her darkest hours.  He suspected that it was she who stood up for him and convinced Nicole she could trust him.  He spoke to Marcello and his sisters and then disconnected the phone.  He had spoken to everyone of any importance to him, everybody else would have to wait.

Nicole awoke.  The room was dark and Daniel was not at her side.  She rose languidly and put on her shirt.  She saw a light in the kitchen and the smell of cooking entered her nostrils as she walked in.  Daniel, shirtless, stood with his back to her, whistling a melody.

The pants stretched across his hips as he bent to put something in the oven and Nicole could see the muscles of his taut buttocks beneath the corduroy.  He straightened and faced her.  She walked to him and placed the palm of her hand against his belly.  It was firm, the muscles running in parallel rows from under his chest to the edge of his pants.  He stood without moving as she stroked him, only his eyes following the movement of her hand that slid under his belt.  His chest rose and fell and he breathed rapidly.  If his life had depended on it, he couldn't have moved.  With her free hand she opened the buttons.  He swayed and his back came up against the refrigerator.  He leaned against it, afraid that, for the first time in his life, he would faint.  His hand held the handle of the freezer door and the muscles on his forearm swelled as he grasped it more and more tightly.  He shut his eyes as her mouth grazed every inch of his stomach.  Her lips dripped honey.  He didn't know whether time had stopped or not.  He had but one purpose now.  He gave himself up to the worship of Eros, god of love.

His body quivered in ecstasy.  He took a step forward and before she grasped what was happening he lifted her on to the table, forcing her shoulders.  She wound her legs around his hips and felt him enter her.  His hand quickly found the sensitive spot between her legs and it was her turn to be dragged down in a whirlpool of pleasure.

Nicole came out of the shower and wiped the mirror, clearing the fog that covered it.  Her face was clear and shining, her eyes sparkled.  She looked like a woman in love.  She combed her wet hair and hung the bathrobe on a hook.  Hesitating, she took a pair of pants out of the closet.  They were her mother's. She had given most of her mother's belongings to charity after her death, keeping only a few photos and several clothes she was particularly fond of.  Every so often Nicole would air out the clothes, but never dared to wear any.  Now, for no particular reason, she felt the need to wear something that reminded her of the weak scent of narcissi that was part of the memory of her mother.  She chose a tight white pair of jeans and a blouse in a
cut that fit tightly around her body, with sleeves up to her elbows. 

"Nicole Kidman!" Daniel's face lit up
as she came into the kitchen.  "Forgive me.  I was sure we were in Nicole West's house, but I see I was mistaken."

"You just don't understand."  She pushed him away playfully.  His hair was still wet from the shower.  He wore jeans and an unbuttoned shirt that exposed his navel and chest.  He set the table as she watched him, her eyes following every movement.  Finally he straightened up at the other end of the table.

"Don't look at me that way, woman.  I'm starved and exhausted.  I don't think I could take another round.  At least not until we eat something."

She mocked him, "how you suffer."  She circled the table and tried to grab his hips but he slipped easily from her grasp. She chased him around the table but he refused to be caught.

"Haven't you heard that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach?"

"Who said I'm interested in your heart?" she replied out of breath.

"The truth is out.  You're only interested in my body.  Admit it."

"I admit it."

He dived, laughing, into one of the chairs and sat her on his knees, his hand around her waist.  She looked down into his eyes.  They were a color she had never yet seen.  She could have sworn they were more violet than blue.

"I love you," she said.  "I love you so much."

He hugged her and leaned his head on her shoulder. "You're my inspriration."  He tightened his hold. "I'm the luckiest man in the world."

They both jumped to their feet as the smell of scorched food came from the oven.

"There goes the gourmet dinner I so diligently prepared," he said sorrowfully.  He looked mournfully at the burnt remains.  She clapped her hand over her mouth but when he turned apologetically she couldn't conceal the convulsions that shook her body or the gleam in her eyes.  Unable to stop herself, she burst out laughing, a rollicking, buoyant laugh.

"Just goes to show, you can't count on a woman.  They'll catch you out every time you make a slip."  She threw back her head and laughed and laughed.  Uncontrollable laughter.  She leaned forward to grab her waist when her stomach began to ache.  He looked at the blackened, charred piece of meat and joined in her laughter.  His laugh was magical.  Masculine and uninhibited.  They caught sight of each other and a new burst of laughter escaped them.  She pointed to the pan in the oven as she tried to say something but that just doubled their merriment until she felt she was going to choke.

"What's going on here?  And what is that smell?"

They looked at Ann, unable to stop themselves.  Nicole went to the stove, took out the pan, and placed it on the table.  Ann took one look at the charred remains and joined in their laughter. 

"Who's responsible for this mess?" she asked when their giggles subsided.

"He is." 

"She is." 

Ann raised an eyebrow as they answered simultaneously.

"A good start to a life together," she commented dryly, and they teetered on the edge of another bout of hysterical laughter.

"I'll order pizza," Nicole volunteered.

"An excellent idea, if you don't want to read in tomorrow's paper something to the effect of 'Miss Nicole West, the Black Widow, starved the most eligible bachelor in the world'."

Daniel buttoned his shirt as he and Ann seated themselves in the living room.

"What do you think of those cannibals from the media?  I wonder who's responsible for all that gossip.  Do you think it could be Diane Stewart?"  Ann questioned Daniel with her usual forthrightness.

"Knowing Diane as I do, I wouldn't put it past her, but I want to make sure before I approach her."

Nicole returned and sat beside Daniel.  "Just forget the whole thing.  It's really not all that important.  Anybody so jealous that they would stoop so low should be pitied.  Whoever is responsible for that feature didn't accomplish anything."

"She's too good for this world," Ann said to Daniel, "she hasn't a drop of malice in her."

"That's true," Daniel agreed with Ann's analysis.

"As usual, you exaggerate.  Let's open a bottle and celebrate," suggested Nicole.

"Are you really serious about marrying?" Ann couldn't resist asking.

Nicole and Daniel looked at each other.  They hadn't had a chance to discuss the impromptu statement Daniel had given the media.

"Perhaps," Nicole spoke deliberately, catching the quick gleam of satisfaction in Daniel's eyes before she looked away.

They continued their idle talk, Ann shamelessly grilling Daniel about his available single friends.  Nicole was happy her two favorite people liked each other.  She realized, as she thought about it more deeply, that they were her only family.

Daniel sat in the director's chair.  It was seven in the morning and the chill in the air was penetrating. There was total silence as everyone stared transfixed by the scene before them.   Diane was dressed in a long, white, embroidered dress, her luxurious
black hair unbound, her face pale.  Shivering with cold, she fell on her knees beside the body of the man on the beach, the waves lapping the hem of her gown.

Her eyes radiated endless grief as she embraced the dead man, drew his head toward her and whispered in an anguished voice. "I meant to find you when I came but death had the same design.  The success was his, it seems, and the discomfit mine.  I meant to tell you how I longed for just this single time, but death had told you so the first and you had hearkened him." 

None on the film set dared to move.  They held their breath.

"To wander now is my abode.  To rest - to rest would be a privilege of hurricane to memory and me."

Diane rose to her feet, her back straight and tall, as grains of sand spilled from her dress.  Her eyes were bright and limpid with stoic resignation.  For several moments she looked at the pink-hued horizon and then walked slowly along the seashore, distancing herself from the prone figure on the sand.

She's going to win an Oscar for that performance, Daniel thought.  She's a great actress.  The sorrow and the grief were natural and genuine, and the words of Emily Dickinson were recited with not a trace of overacting or insincerity.  Too bad the acting was just a shell concealing the emptiness within.  "Cut."

Diane turned to leave the water.  Two girls were waiting with hot coffee and long warm robes.  "How did I do, Daniel?"

"Larger than life," he responded. 

She looked pleased but her expression changed as she focused on Nicole a short way off, deep in conversation with Rod and Ann.

"What is she doing here?" she demanded.

"Since when are you running this production?"

Nicole approached.  "Diane, I'm delighted to meet you again.  I was very impressed with your wonderful acting."

Diane looked at her suspiciously.  Nicole's voice was pleasant and confident and Diane couldn't be sure if she was making fun of her.

"Thanks," she finally muttered, unable to resist the compliment.  "I'm going to change.  I'll see you later, Daniel."  She turned on her heel and left.  Daniel raised an eyebrow and Nicole lay a soothing hand on his arm.

"Pay no attention to her. We're together now, and that's the important thing."

Daniel sank into his work, absorbed by the filming, and Ann and Nicole, trying not to interfere with the crew's work, watched the bustle around them with curiosity.

It was just past noon when Diane noticed Nicole standing by herself and came up to her.  "You think you've won," Diane said in a low voice, "but I have news for you.  He won't marry you.  After his infatuation with your golden curls and green eyes he'll say farewell and you'll never see him again.  He also let me think there was something serious between us. You're not the only one Daniel Miller has wooed and won and then thrown over, leaving a broken heart behind.  No, darling, there are a dozen more like you."

When she finished Nicole spoke directly, "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, that this warning was kindly meant, but I strongly advise you to pay more attention to your illustrious career and less to vicious gossip that doesn't concern you."  From the expression in Diane's eyes she knew she had struck home.  Diane's pallor deepened as she left without responding.

"What did she want?" asked Ann as she appeared at Nicole's elbow.

Nicole smiled at Ann.  "Nothing.  Absolutely nothing."

When he came home that night after eleven, Daniel found Nicole in the living room, curled up with a book in her hand.

"I didn't pay enough attention to you on the set.  Did you and Ann enjoy yourselves?"

"Tremendously.  It was fascinating."

He eased himself into the armchair opposite. "I want you to return to New York with me.”

She had already considered this possibility. 

"Tomorrow we finish up here and I must go back.  The film's opening is planned for the beginning of April and there's lots of work still to be done."

She brought her knees up to her chest and leaned her chin on them. "I'll join you but I need time.  I can't just drop everything and leave.  There are many matters I have to take care of before I take such an extended leave."

"How much time?"

"At least a couple of months."

"Out of the question.  I won't be able to bear such a long time without you."

"You have no choice, honey.  You'll just have to be patient."

He bit his lower lip in feigned anger.  She laughed.  His hair was wild and a two-day stubble shadowed his chin.  In his faded corduroy pants and suede jacket he bore no resemblance to the famous director worth so many hundred millions of dollars.

"Do you really have a billion?" she asked with naive curiosity.

"More.  But don't tell anybody."  She laughed and he looked at her tenderly.

"Darling, I'll be waiting for you.  Don't disappoint me."

"Don't worry.  I'll be
there."

With dreamy eyes Daniel looked out the window
at the receding continent.  He relived last night.  He'd made love slowly, gently and passionately, and she had given
herself completely, responding with every fiber of her body and soul.  The pain of parting hit him, sharp as a sword at his chest, when he looked into her green eyes and kissed the tears hanging on her lashes. They clung fiercely, her fingers tracing his features, capturing the memory of the touch.

"Our love is fulfilled," she whispered, "time hasn't dimmed its magic."

He looked deep into her eyes.
"My love, you are the reason for my living.  You are the music that fills my heart."

When the dawn broke and they had to part, he looked at her one last time.  The flawless beauty of her body resting on the white sheets was as pure and perfect
as the waters of a still lake.  He kissed her warm lips.  A ray of the rising sun skimmed her head and copper mingled with the gold of her hair.  He slipped his hand out of hers and left.

Wrapped in her robe, Nicole sat in the sun flooded kitchen, her head a shimmering halo.  The time of ice and cold was over. 

The months passed in a haze and Nicole felt that time stood still.  She sold the galleries to her
manager of many years.  He had received a percentage of the revenues when Eric was alive, and later from her, and they quickly came to a satisfactory agreement.  At the end of August all the papers and deeds were signed.  She advertised in the newspaper and found a local couple who agreed to act as
caretakers of her house on the hill.  An expert packed all the paintings in her studio and they were put in storage.  The studio was rented to a young English writer and by mid-September Nicole was ready to leave.

Daniel called, as he had every day since their parting, at eight in the evening.  "I'm sending the plane.  That way you'll arrive in New York on Monday."

"Don't be ridiculous.  I've already bought a ticket."  She gave him the flight number and time of arrival.  "I should get in on Tuesday at four in the afternoon after a short stopover on the West Coast.  Can you take off and meet me?"

"What do you think?" he responded with a question.

Fortunately he didn't insist she fly on the private plane and she followed her original plan.

Nicole made her last farewells to Ann who insisted on accompanying her to the airport.  Ann's plans included a trip to Peru and Bolivia and she made sure Nicole wrote down her itinerary. "In case you want to announce something important," she said in a significant tone, promising Nicole that if all went as planned she would be in New York for the New Year. 

"Send me a message whenever you can," Nicole hugged and kissed her. 

"Don't worry, you'll hear from me very soon."

As the plane soared into the clear skies Nicole felt a pang in her heart.  She had taken the crucial step.  She was leaving the easy and familiar life behind and stepping into the unknown.  Hours of a long, tiring flight lay ahead of her and she stretched her legs in the comfortable first class seat.  On her last flight to New York she had flown economy class after borrowing the money from her mother.  She remembered the crying baby as well as her neighbor who had swilled beers as though he were at the neighborhood pub and who insisted, in his drunken garrulousness, on telling her his life story.  She recalled how tense she had been on that flight, trying to imagine Daniel's reaction when he saw her on his doorstep and learned the reason for her visit.  She bit her lip remembering the terrible scene that unfolded when she saw Daniel in another woman's arms.  How could he deny what she had seen with her own eyes?  How could he forget such a thing?  More than anything Nicole wanted to believe him and erase that scene from her memory but she simply couldn't. The picture of the woman with the cherry-red lips drawn into a smile, which she flashed at her over Daniel’s shoulder, hounded her and wouldn't leave her.  For her own peace of mind she would bring it up with Daniel once again at an opportune moment.  She wanted the truth.  Even if the truth hurt.  If he would admit the truth she could forgive him.  Of that she was sure.  But she couldn't just sweep out of her mind what her eyes had witnessed.

Nicole dozed.  She awoke when the stewardess served dinner.  She picked at her food and then settled in to read.  She was already deep in the book when a masculine voice intruded.

"Nicole?  You do remember me, I hope.  Ralph Townsend of the Marella." 

"Yes. Hi there." She couldn't snub his friendly overture although she had no desire to spend the rest of the long flight in his company.

"Are you also flying to the West Coast?"

"No.  I'm going on to New York."

"Of course.  To see Daniel.  If I remember, you left with him the night of my party.  I had to comfort many a disappointed woman."

Nicole, unsure of the best response to his gibe, gave a tight smile.

"I heard you two are engaged?"  Ralph signaled the waitress to bring them drinks.  Nicole thought he had a nerve. He barely knew her.  But Ralph, very much at ease, obviously thought differently.

"Well, good for you.  I know Daniel very well.  He's never spent more than a few months with any woman.  I think he's incapable of any deeper relationship.  But with you, I'm sure, things will be different."

"Thank you for the compliment,” Nicole said dryly.

"Diane was boiling mad when he announced your engagement." Ralph went on,  "He really led her on to hope she was the one he was going to marry.  She told me he even took her to his magic isle where they spent many happy days.  But you have nothing to be worried about.  She doesn't stand a chance against you.  Of course, Daniel admires her as an actress.  You can't deny she's a remarkable actress.  She's also part of his world.  They understand each other."

"Excuse me Ralph, but I'm not at all interested in hearing the local gossip."  She smiled but her voice was sharp.

"You must excuse
me
.  Sometimes I'm insensitive.  I'm confident you know exactly what you're doing.  At any rate, I plan to stay over on the West Coast for a few days and then go on to the Hotel Pierre in New York.  You're welcome to get in touch if you feel you need company."

"Thanks for your offer, but I’ll probably be very busy."

She put on the headphones and concentrated on the screen infront of her, smiling sweetly at him while seemingly following the plot of one of the movies offered on the entertainment system.

Of course she preferred Daniel's version to Ralph's.  But Diane wasn't lying when she told Ralph of her trip to the island. Happy days.  Had he ever let Diane Stewart believe she would be his wife?  Would she herself be another one on the long list of his conquests?  Did he truly love her?  Enough! Her head was ready to burst. 

Ralph Townsend turned.  "Pardon me?"

"I have a bad headache.  I'm going to try to sleep."

"I'll let you rest but do remember that I'll be delighted if you get in touch with me in New York."

The flight finally ended.  Nicole parted from Ralph with a limp handshake that was far too lengthy for her taste, and rushed to make her connection.  She thought back on what Ralph had said and wondered what his motives might be. Ralph was simply a stupid, gossiping sensation seeker, she concluded.  Daniel had warned her against the evil-wishers, against the malicious gossip people like Ralph and Diane loved to spread only to sow jealousy and distrust.  But why hadn't Daniel told her that Diane was one of the women he had brought to the island?  Why wasn't he sincere and open about it?

The flight to New York was uncomfortable.  Air pockets made the ride a bumpy one and Nicole was attacked alternately by headaches and nausea.  She was incapable of eating and only when she took an aspirin did she feel slightly better.  But when she saw the city spread out beneath her and heard the pilot announce their landing she felt a lifting of her spirits.  She saw the wheels extend and felt them touch down on the runway.