Red Hot Christmas (20 page)

“Please don’t.”

No begging. No tears. A class act. But Nicolas could see that if he pushed it too far, she might crack. It would have been easier if she’d been unreasonable that he knew how to deal with. This—whatever this was, was harder to comprehend than a billion dollar merger. “You’ll stay here until I decide.”
 

“Oh, no, we can’t. I’ll find a place.”

Nicolas waved a hand at her. “You’ll stay here. You ran off once. I’m not having you do it again. And you’ll tell him the truth tomorrow.”

“What?”

“That I’m his father. No more lies.”

“I can’t. Not just like that. It’s too soon. Too confusing.”

“You’re going to have to find a way to make it make sense.”

She slumped further, and he saw her eyes shine with moisture. “I’m not going to run. I told you. But if you take Fraser, I don’t know how I’d…”

Damn. He rushed to her side and took her hand. “We’ll work it out.”

“How? You can hardly stand to look at me sometimes.”

“You think I can’t stand to look at you?” Nicolas was genuinely shocked.

“You get that cold look in your eye. I can see the cogs turning. God. It’s so demoralizing. We can’t stay here. When you’re off with your mistresses, what will I tell Fraser? And what if you bring one of them home? It’s not fair on him and it’s not fair on you.”

“And what about you?” Rocked again by her selflessness. This was what he wanted, what he needed. She couldn’t leave him again. He had to make sure of it.

“What about me? This isn’t about me, this is about Fraser. I am sorry you missed out. And I’m sorry Fraser missed out on having a father.”

Those two sentences melted the rest of Nicolas’s reserve and he put a hand to Gabby’s face. “Someone should worry about you.” Pulling her towards him he kissed her forehead. Rather than pull away, she leant into him. He drew back, enfolded her in his arms and let her rest her head on his chest.

“I’m not going to sleep with you just so that you let us stay,” she said in a small voice.

“Wouldn’t expect you to. I’d hope you’d stay because you wanted to. That you realized it was the right thing and that all the rest,” he waved an arm. “All the rest we’d work out as we go along. I’ve only been a father for ten minutes. There’s a lot to learn.”

He felt her nodding against his chest.

“So, now you know you don’t need to worry about leaving, why are you going to sleep with me?”

Was that the merest flicker of a smile?

“Who says I’m going to?”

“I do.” He turned her face up to his and kissed properly, this time demanding full access to her mouth, his tongue daring hers to dance, indulge, mate.

Scooping her up in his arms, he carried her to his room and set her down on the bed. “No more talking until tomorrow.”

She opened her mouth to speak but he put a finger to her lips. “Don’t tell me you don’t want this.”

She shook her head and he smiled, before running his hand from her throat to her collar bone. His hands traced her shape, relearning her curves, the heat of her breath, the softness of her skin. It seemed like an eternity since he’d held her, since she’d kissed him, caressed him, been his.
Mine.
His mind let the word wrap itself about the two of them, making them inseparable. United.
 

Her tongue danced with his, twining them together as man and woman. As she arched beneath him he cupped the soft weight of her breast, thumbing the hardening nipple through her shirt and bra.
 

“Nicolas.”

The way she said his name undid him and with no more politeness he tore at her clothes and shed his own efficiently. Her skin was so warm, so beautiful. Breathlessly he looked down over her body. Perfect.
 

“Come here.” Her demand held none of the softness of her expression and he was more than happy to oblige, laying himself over her petite frame so she was completely covered by his body. He raised her arms above her head and held them with one hand so the other was free to explore, to tease and to pull her to him. Her kisses deepened and the moan moved from the back of her throat to a sound that demanded action. Sliding his hand up her bare thigh he covered her sex and she thrust herself into his hand. “Touch me.”

Her eyes already closed, she threw back her head and he watched as she bit her lip, holding back the passion he could feel mounting inside as he twirled a finger just at the edge of her moist entrance.
 

“No more. Please. All of you now.” She opened her eyes, and the desire they held in their indigo depths rocked Nicolas. This was a woman who spoke her mind, who had been working, alone, to raise his son the best way she knew how. A woman he’d been missing in his bed for a long time.

He kissed her, long and deep and she opened her legs wider beneath him, urging his ready erection towards her center. Having already sheathed him ready erection, he thrust himself all the way inside her in one long movement, the glory of it drawing a groan from him.

Catching her eye, he held it and as the two of them began to rock together, she locked her gaze to his, daring him deeper, harder, faster.

“We should slow down,” he managed, but she shook her head. “We’re well beyond that. Just let go, take me with you.”

His focus narrowed till all he was, was their rhythm, their pulse, their heat.

“Gabby,” he managed and as her cry mingled with his, he lost himself in her.

They were still for the longest time. Quiet. Easy. Together.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her beautiful indigo eyes fluttering and finally closing as she fell asleep in his arms. Her dark hair spread out across the pillow, and Nicolas was struck again by the contrast that her fragile beauty had with her strong spirit. She still didn’t know what she did to him. What she’d always done to him. She still thought he didn’t know what love was. Shuffling his arm slowly out from under her, he padded to the kitchen for a glass of water, his thoughts churning. Sipping his water, Nicolas stopped and stared out the full wall windows over New York City. The lights danced with the cold wind and snow, and he felt his heart lurch at the beauty of it. He was getting sentimental. Well why not, it was almost Christmas.

What did he want for Christmas? It had been years since he’d bothered to ask himself that question. Tonight the answer seemed to be staring him in the face.

Usually he’d be out on a night like tonight. Making nice with people he did business with, or whose business he was trying to acquire. He’d have a beautiful woman on his arm and he’d be the envy of the room. The idea of being tied down to one woman, of having a child, was an anathema to him.
 

He’d told himself Gabby had broken his trust in everything. But everything she’d said had been the truth. She was no thief, no cheat, no liar. All she was, was the mother of his son, a mother struggling against mounting odds to get by. A mother and a miraculous woman. One he loved. One he was in love with.

He looked in on Fraser as he walked back to his bedroom. In the haze of his nightlight, the boy slept so peacefully he could have been on the front of a Christmas card.
 

Was this what he wanted? Some sort of domesticated bliss?
 

Yes. He decided. He wanted it all. The whole gift wrapped Christmas Catalogue Family Package.

Chapter Twelve

Gabby stretched luxuriously and rolled over to snuggle into Nicolas. Cold. Nothing. Smoothing the thick cotton sheets she rolled over to inhale his scent. Soapy with a little bit of citrus and outdoor pine. Yum.
 
He must have got up to make breakfast. She smiled as she thought of him in the kitchen, whistling while he scrambled eggs.
Get a grip, you’ll be imagining him in an apron soon.
 

      Pulling the covers back up to her chin she stared at the ceiling, just a couple more minutes, Fraser knew to play in his room for a little while on Sunday mornings. Her hands slid down over her naked body. It seemed impossible, but her skin still hummed from Nicolas’s ministrations last night. There was no denying it, the man had some sort of hold over her. Every time they touched, her resolve just melted and she wanted to drag him close and keep him there.
 

      “Maybe that might not be such a bad thing,” she whispered to the empty bedroom. Looking around, Gabby still couldn’t quite believe what had happened these past few weeks. The space, quiet and sheer opulence of the apartment was a far cry from any place she thought she’d be living, well, ever. She hadn’t meant to end up in this bed again last night, but perhaps their connection was something they both needed to own up to now.
 

      
It’s not just a hold over your body though is it?
Gabby put her hands over her heart. No, it was not just her body that hummed. She let a small smile steal over her lips.

Nicolas Morganti had stalked back into her life, stamped his foot, and demanded to stay. He was better with children than she could possibly have imagined, and had taken the news that he was Fraser’s father pretty well considering. Rather than throw them out on the streets and take out a restraining order against her he’d done what she hadn’t dared dream of. “He wants us to stay. Here.” Sure the austerity of all the white was a bit much for anything other than a hotel, but Fraser would soon put paid to that with a few drawings and the general detritus that came with being almost six.
 

Almost six years old. How time flew. Surely it was worth giving their relationship another go. At least if she got her heart broken again, she couldn’t say she hadn’t tried. Better than spending another six years wondering what if. But she was under no illusions this time, if Nicolas was the one to end it this time, her heart
would
be broken. “I love you.” Her voice wavered as she tried saying those three words out loud in the empty room. It didn’t sound so bad. “I love you.” A little bit stronger, less hesitation. Better.

She let her imagination stray, pictured Nicolas sitting at the kitchen table, smiling at her as she spoke, then repeating those three little words back to her. Fraser would jump up and climb onto his knee and the three of them would live happily ever after.
Good one.
“I’ll be wanting a fairy wand next.” She laughed at herself. But he couldn’t hate her anymore if he wanted them to stay, and the way her looked at her when they were in bed together...maybe? Maybe what? Maybe his feelings ran deeper than even he wanted to admit?

She didn’t want to scare him off, but soon, soon, she was going to admit to him just how deep
her
feelings ran.
 

Taking a deep breath, Gabby threw back the covers and padded to the guest bedroom for her bathrobe. Popping her head into Fraser’s room, she found the place empty. Wandering down to the kitchen she found two eggy plates, but no Fraser or Nicolas. “Hello? Fraser? Nicolas?” Going from room to room, Gabby found a media suite she hadn’t known existed, a formal dining room, a small fitness space, and a coat cupboard. But no Nicolas. And no Fraser.

Opening the fridge she did a quick scan. Milk, check. Eggs, check. Ha, no bread. They must have gone out to get some more.

Time for a shower then. She looked down at her the clothes she had to choose from and picked at the frayed sleeve of her best dress-coat. She would insist they pay rent while they were here, but maybe it wouldn’t be too much. Perhaps she’d actually be able to afford a few new clothes, there’d be sales on soon. It wouldn’t hurt to make sure Nicolas knew there was a beautiful woman under all her old mommy clothes.

The shower was wonderfully hot, of course, and Gabby used a dollop of every fabulous product on the shelf, obviously all bought by Tessa. Smelling like jojoba and vanilla, Gabby wrapped herself in a plump towel and got to work preening her eyebrows.
 

Primed, polished and prepared she wandered back down to the kitchen and poured a bowl of granola while she waited.

That finished, she looked around again, perhaps they’d left a note. She looked everywhere for the piece of paper.

Nothing.

Perhaps Nicolas didn’t know where bread came from. She had a little laugh, then sobered up. It could almost be possible. Tessa did all the shopping, he’d probably never run out of anything before. What if he was out roaming the streets with Fraser, and they got mugged, and someone took Fraser hostage and…

“Calm down. Make a coffee.”

After she’d pushed every button she could and then finally found the remote tucked into the wall behind a sofa, she watched TV for a little while to distract herself.

Nothing.

With shaking fingers she dialed Nicolas’s number. Straight to message service.

Leaving the TV on in case there was a news broadcast about a wealthy business man being kidnapped, she paced the media suite. A bulletin about a custody case came on and she stopped dead.
 

Dear. God.

He wouldn’t? Gabby ran through last night’s conversation and it felt like her blood ceased pumping. All her happy thoughts drained from her, all the hopes, the plans, the life seemed to drip away as the judge awarded custody of two small children to the wealthy father on the screen in front of her.