Primary Colors (8 page)

“I can’t imagine a mother like that.”

“Because of it, when she kicked me out of the house, which she did often, I’d go to Jonas’s
gallery and hang around.”

“I’m glad you had him.”

“And you had your family.”

Liam O’Neil once again approached them. “You guys want more coffee?”

“No, not for me.” Rafe glanced around. “I didn’t realize your customers left. What time is it?”

“Three.”

“Oh, no, I have to call
Matka
.”

“And we should leave,” Rafe said politely. “Sorry if we held you up.”

Liam shook
his head. “No worries. We lock up between two and five, though one of us is here then. Today it’s me. You’re family, though, so stay as long as you like.”

Taking out her phone, Nia speed-dialed her home number. “
Matka
, I’m so sorry. I lost track of the time…I know, I know, you told me to take the day…Yes, I’ve had fun. What? Oh, wow. That never happens. Okay, I won’t hurry.” She clicked off.

“What?”

“The boys are taking a nap.”

“Aren’t they a little old for that?”

“I think they aren’t sleeping well. Being suspended from school for two days really bothered them. And keeping them separate when they were home made them feel worse. I think the whole ordeal disrupted their sleep patterns.” She gestured to their surroundings. “So, we should leave the O’Neils to themselves.”

“Yeah. Did your mother tell you to take your time in the city?”

“How’d you know?”

He winked at her. “I’m psychic.”

“Yes, she did.”

“Then let’s go for a walk. It’s a little chilly but sunny out. I’m not ready to let go of you, yet.”

She shivered. Was the way he phrased the sentence intentional? “A walk sounds good.”

As they traversed the streets of the
Village, speaking some, companionably silent at points, Nia felt young and carefree for the first time in ages. She walked close enough to Rafe to see his jaw was scruffy, and he had a little scar below his chin. At one point, he stopped. She peered up at him to see why. His eyes were filled with an expression she hadn’t seen in a man’s eyes in years. “So, my loft is up this way.”

“I remember.”
When he didn’t say more, she batted her eyes like Elizabeita did when she flirted. “Mr. Castle, are you asking me to come up and see your etchings?” The old line for seduction.

“Well, Ms. Pettrone, my intention was more honorable until you said that, but I’m up for anything.”

Was she? Right now, Nia felt like she was.

He watched her. When she didn’t move, he took her hand. “Come up
to my place. I do want to show you something.”

They walked faster down the two blocks, still holding hands. Once inside his building, they took the elevator in silence and Rafe unlocked the door to his loft.

Nia entered first. “I’m still stunned by how big this place is.”

“I don’t need all this space, but Jonas loved the openness.”

“It suits you, Rafe.”

He turned to her. “Why
is that?”

“You’re larger than life and not because you’re famous. It’s your personality. You’re joie de vivre. You live in primary colors.” And her tones ran from cream to beige and often times gray.

“What a nice way to put it. Jonas said I take pleasure in everything.”

“After a difficult childhood, that’s amazing.”
He
was amazing.

“Now I’m embarrassed.”

Taking her hand, he
tugged her to the studio. Several easels stood guard around the room. Two canvases were started. Another was covered with a cloth, and he crossed to it. “Stand about five feet away. Face the other side of the room.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to show you something I did the night you were at my loft. But I want to see your face when you first get a look at it.”

Nia turned to the collection
on the opposite wall. The easels there sported scarlets and yellows, peacock blue and pinks.

Rustling, scraping. Then, “Okay, turn around.”

Pivoting back, Nia gasped.
Oh, my God.
She almost couldn’t take it in. Slowly, she walked closer to the canvas. Studied the way the sky gave way to her image—which was…unbelievable. Every feature was right. And every feature was wrong. He’d drawn her
as a sensual siren, floating out of the clouds. The glint in her eyes was unfamiliar.

“I don’t understand. This isn’t me, in so many ways.”

“It’s how I see you, I guess.”

“Rafe, this woman is so…sensual. Sexy. So not me.”

“I think it is. Or had been. Or might be.” He stepped closer, cupped her jaw. “Let me prove that to you, Nia.”

Nia’s first instinct was to run. Fast and far
away. Her heart raced, and her palms began to sweat. But she glanced at the painting again, and suddenly, she knew she wasn’t going to leave. So she moved closer and said, “Take me to bed, Rafael.”

Bowled over by her acquiescence, the shy desire emanating from her face, Rafe stood before her in the dim light of the small room off the studio, with the slatted blinds filtering
out prying eyes. Slowly, he reached for the buttons of her blouse. She smiled, and he smiled. This would be joyous, he knew. He’d wondered for a long time what Nia would be like, unfettered by grief. Now, he’d get a glimpse.

Loosening each fastener, he bared her creamy neck, got a peak at a plain white bra, and a flat tummy. He brushed his knuckles against the silky flesh. “You are so lovely.”

“You make me feel that way.”

“I’m glad.”

He eased off her shirt to reveal toned shoulders. His lips traced the bones and indentations. A few freckles. He dropped his hand to the jeans she wore. Soon, she stood before him, clothed in only serviceable underwear. “You take my breath away, Nia Pettrone.”

Biting her lip, she admitted, “My hands are shaking. Can you take your own clothes
off?”

Without having to be asked again, he whipped off his sweater and shirt, pushed down his jeans and underwear in one fell swoop and stood before her, blessedly naked. With her fingertips, she traced the roadmap of muscles from his biceps to his chest to his abs. His body jerked toward her. With her hand at his waist, she stared down at his very erect penis
.

“You like what you see?”
he asked.

“Very much.”

“I need to finish with you.”

He undid her bra, pushed down her panties and knelt before her as he slipped them off. While on his knees he kissed her stomach. Then he kissed every part of her he could reach.

When Rafe’s mouth moved up to close over her nipple, she startled. He lost himself in the sensation of her, in being granted permission to do this with
her, so it was a minute before he heard the sounds. In a haze of blistering desire, he didn’t recognize them. But some kind of warning punched him in the gut. Coming to his feet, he tipped up Nia’s chin. Big, fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Nia, what is it?”

She shook her head
.

“Honey, tell me.”

Her wet eyes were full of pain when she finally looked up at him. “I haven’t…I never…no
man ever touched me like this but Peter.”

It was as if someone had knocked the air out of him. Cold, glacial and raw, invaded him.

Ridiculously, Rafe recalled what he said to her earlier.
I know something about ambushes. We’d go for days when I was the best little boy in the world, and then boom…some imagined slight, some small mistake and she wouldn’t talk to me for a week.

He tried
to banish the thought. He cared about this woman, and she was hurting more than he was. He didn’t know how he managed, but he tugged her close, banded his arms around her and kissed her hair. “It’s okay, honey. It’s okay.”

Deep down inside, though, he knew it wasn’t
.

Nia wasn’t able to bear his kindness. She grabbed her things, excused herself and ran into the bathroom. For a minute, she couldn’t breathe. She sat down on the toilet and closed her eyes, trying to take in air. But her mind wouldn’t process what had happened in the little room off the studio. Because she
hated
what she’d done. Her chest swelled, as if it was
going to burst, so she got her phone out of her purse and punched in a number.

Soon, “Magdalena Ludzecky.”

At the sound of her sister’s voice, Nia started to cry again, deep, wrenching sobs
.

“Nia, I see the caller ID. What’s wrong?” Panic had seeped into her voice. Phone calls like these were well-known to their family
.

“Everybody’s safe,” she managed, hiccupping her way through
the words. “But I need you. I’m in the city. In the Village. Can you come get me?”

“Of course. Where exactly are you?”

She gave Rafe’s address to Magdalena.

“Hang on, sweetie. I’ll be right there.”

In a daze, Nia dressed. She faced herself in the mirror and saw flushed skin, red eyes and messy hair. Throwing cold water onto her cheeks, she towel dried her skin. She ran a brush
through her hair, and while she did, she inhaled Rafe’s scent, which permeated the air in here. Tears threatened again, then she opened the door to the bathroom.

He stood with a drink in his hand, staring out the back window of his loft. He was so sexy in only jeans that her heart, already broken into pieces, felt shattered. She’d wanted to make love with him so badly.

“Rafe?”

He turned
at the sound of her voice. She drew in a quick breath. She’d never seen his face like this: taut, pale and his eyes so sad she could barely stand to look at them. He said, “Hey. You all right?”

“No, not all right. I don’t know what to say.”

“Do me a favor. Just don’t say you’re sorry.”

“Whatever you want, Rafe. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Of course not.” He crossed to her, his
gait stiff, his whole body strung tight. He set the glass down then ran his knuckles down her cheek. “You weren’t ready. I was the one who said I wouldn’t push.”

“
I
pushed. What happened, or didn’t happen, was my fault.”

“It was no one’s fault.”

He kissed her forehead and she was so grateful for his tenderness, for his gentle kindness she wanted to weep again at how she’d distanced
him. “I don’t know what to say,” she repeated.

“Let’s give each other some time. It’s a blow to both of us.”

“All right.” She took hold of one of his wrists. “But please, Rafe, don’t stop seeing Sal yet. It would kill him.”

Grasping her arms, he frowned fiercely. “I promise I’ll never abandon your son, no matter what happens between us.”

He was such a good man.

“Thank you.”

The buzzer sounded loudly in the silence that followed. “Oh, I called Magdalena. She said she’d be right over.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I didn’t want you to have to be with me now, after this.” She raised her hand and ran it down the scruffy jaw. “Thank you for being so kind.”

“I’ll walk you down to the door.”

“All right.”

Again they made the trip in silence, but
the elevator space was suffocating now. Nia blanked her mind, which she’d had plenty of practice at. When they reached the reception area, Magdalena stood at the front door. Behind her was a town car
.

Rafe peered down at Nia and she stared up at him. She felt a sense of loss so great it choked her. Leaning in, he embraced her. “I’ll call about Sal.”

“Okay.” She nuzzled into him. She was
so, so sorry. But there was nothing more to say.

The two of them got inside Magdalena’s condo and she turned to Nia. “What do you need?”

“A hug.”

Magdalena took Nia into her arms. This scene had been enacted several times when Magdalena had comforted her about Peter’s death. This time, Nia didn’t cry. She simply let Magdalena envelop her with support.

“Want some
wine?” Magdalena asked, drawing back.

“Don’t you have to go back to work?”

“
Prosz
ę!
Of course not.”

“Yeah, then I could use a drink.”

“Sit in the living room.” As Magdalena went to the wet bar, she wondered what had happened. It was obvious Rafe hadn’t hurt her. The tenderness between them in the foyer was palpable even through the glass. She held the thought as she went back to
her sister. “Here you go.” She handed Nia the white wine she favored and sat down next to her on the couch, with her own glass.

Nia glanced away
.

“It might help to talk about it.”

“Nothing will help. I’m embarrassed and angry, Mags.
Really
angry.”

“Did he do something to make you mad?”

“No, and neither did I. But something very sad happened.”

“All right, I was going to
let you tell me in your own time, but now I have to know. It sounds ominous.”

Her sister took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I came to the city with Sofia for her doctor’s appointment. I decided to call Rafe for lunch.”

“Okay.”

“We were together all afternoon. It was so pleasant to just talk and laugh. But there were obviously male-female vibes between us. I’d felt them several
times when he was out at the house. Today it was strong. Heady.”

“Sounds okay so far.”

“We went for a walk after. Ended up at his apartment. When I consented to go inside, I knew what was going to happen.” Instead of tears, she saw fire flame from Nia’s eyes. “Goddamn it, Mags, I wanted to make love. I did.”

“He rejected you?”

A sour laugh. “Hardly. He was as intent, as happy about
what we were about to do as I was. Then…”

Magdalena reached out and clasped Nia’s hand. “What happened, sweetie?”

“After we took off our clothes he…he touched me intimately and I started to bawl. It wasn’t conscious. I wasn’t even aware of it until he stood up.”

“Oh, Nia, I’m so sorry. I know you haven’t been with anybody since Peter.”

“Any man ever, Mags. Fuck!”

Magdalena
knew that after the guys died, Paulina and Nia sometimes had a swear fest that made them feel better, but normally that word never graced her lips.