Authors: Lexxi Callahan
“Nic.” Pam dragged his attention back. It took longer to uncurl his fingers from the fist they were clenched in. “You okay?”
“Of course.” He kept the irritation out of his voice. Of course he was okay.
Except he wasn’t.
Worse, he wasn’t sure why. He had no claim on her and she’d made it pretty clear a few minutes ago she wanted nothing to do with him.
Nic had never understood his reaction to her. He preferred tall women, with dark hair and long legs. Lizzie was the polar opposite of the women he usually dated. She was small, perfectly shaped for her size, with a crazy waterfall of blond curls spilling down her shoulders and ocean blue eyes…Nic had drowned in them the first time he’d met her. He’d asked her to dance, she glanced up at him and for a moment his heart had stopped.
She’d been seventeen. Her age had saved her, not the warning Mac Sellers had wasted no time in delivering when he noticed Nic’s interest in his daughter. Startled she was so young, Nic hadn’t danced with her again, but he spent the evening watching her pretend not to watch him. He’d left early, before he did something stupid.
Less than a year later, he’d seen her again at his nephew’s christening. He danced with her again, then leaned down to whisper in her ear.
“When you grow up,
bella
, come and see me.”
She’d trembled and swayed, instead of running away like he’d expected. Like he’d counted on. She hadn’t wanted him to let go. He hadn’t wanted to let her go. She made him feel things he’d buried a long time ago and want things he knew better than to want. He’d left the party early before what was left of his resolve melted from the warmth he found in her arms.
Their paths continued to cross at random parties and family functions. He always asked her to dance, she always said yes. She always made it clear she didn’t want him to let her go and Nic always left before the night was over. It should have gotten easier each time. He should have gotten good at it.
She was so sweet. So…innocent. So not for him.
Across the reception hall, she laughed at something the boy said. Curls escaped the complicated hairstyle she’d tamed them into and the boy pushed another one back, stroking his fingers across her cheek as he pulled his hand back.
Nic almost snapped his wine glass stem in half.
He wasn’t walking away tonight.
“Nic.” Pam took the glass away from him and lowered her voice.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“What? The infamous Nic Maretti tied up in knots?” She shrugged her elegant shoulders and signaled another server for more wine. “You have no idea.”
He watched Lizzie reluctantly leave the musician and make her way to the huge display of berries. It took her a minute to get there because she had to stop and speak to so many people. Nic glanced back at the blue-haired musician who was watching Lizzie closely. He frowned, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut. Maybe she wasn’t that innocent anymore.
“I can fire you, you know,” Nic said, his attention never leaving Lizzie.
Pam coughed back a laugh. “You won’t last forty-eight hours. You’ll beg me to come back and I’ll make you double my salary. You’re better off just putting up with my mouth. Besides, right now, you should probably go get some strawberries.”
He smiled. She was always right. He did need some strawberries.
When he joined Lizzie at the strawberry display, the berry she held under the chocolate fountain tumbled into the basin.
“Here.” He grabbed another stick, speared the strawberry then set it on her plate. He speared a second strawberry, swirled it under the chocolate before placing it next to the other. “Save me a dance later?”
Her breathy reply caught him off guard. “I’m with someone.”
“Who?” The word ripped out of him before he could help it. “The musician?”
She continued to ignore him as she scooped blueberries onto her plate.
Annoyed, he leaned in. “You always dance with me.”
She stepped away, the blueberries trembling on the plate. He took the plate and set it down before she dropped it. Catching her hand before she could pull away, he stroked his thumb across the backs of her fingers. Her breath hitched and he swallowed back a satisfied smirk. So she wasn’t oblivious to him. Good.
“Unless you really don’t want to dance with me.”
“Won’t your date mind?”
“Not if she wants to keep her job.”
“What?” She breathed out the words, her voice lower than it should be, stirring up things better left alone.
Nic smiled slowly. She was jealous. “She works for me,
bella
.”
“You hired a date? Like an escort?”
Nic’s smile died. Did she think he would have to hire a date? “No.” The denial was harsher than he meant it. “She’s my assistant. I don’t take dates to weddings. It sends the wrong message.”
The tiny smile tugging at her mouth told him she knew she’d gotten to him and she’d done it on purpose. Her mischievous smile was infectious and the anger and indignation melted away. It was replaced by the overwhelming urge to taste and touch. His mouth burned. His fingertips tingled. Nic had never been ruled by his baser instincts, no matter how much he wanted something, so he didn’t reach out and push the escaping curls back. He didn’t tug her closer and pull her into him so he could feel her body tremble. He didn’t let his fingers curve around the pale skin of her neck, or taste her lush bottom lip, but he wanted to.
He had to clear his throat to continue. “Who are you with?”
“No one.”
He should not be so relieved. “I’ll find you later. We’ll dance.”
“Okay.”
He let her go, but made sure he did not lose sight of her. He didn’t try to follow the conversation around his table although Pam tried to keep him clued in a few times.
Instead, he watched Lizzie move from table to table, talking to elderly relatives, covering strawberries in chocolate for a growing line of children. She laughed, held the berries under the chocolate fountain little hands couldn’t reach. One child tried to grab a strawberry too quickly and it splattered chocolate across the front of her dress. Nic held his breath, waiting for her smile to give away to exasperation or worse, anger. A second later he was holding his breath as she laughed, raked a finger across the stain and tasted it. He wasn’t close enough to hear what she said to him, but Nic could hear the young boy laughing.
Lizzie dropped down to the kid’s level and hugged him tight. When she straightened a caterer had arrived and put someone else in charge of the strawberries. The caterer handed her a damp cloth and she dabbed at the stain, but her expression never flickered. The women he knew would have gone nuts if chocolate had been smeared across their dress. His stepmother or sister would already be halfway back to their hotel in a panic. Nic couldn’t believe she genuinely wasn’t upset.
She was smiling when she snagged a wine bottle on the way to the bride and groom’s table. She filled everyone’s wine glass before sitting down. They were ribbing her about the chocolate but her smiles got brighter.
She was too good to be true. No one was that sweet. Or cute. Nic didn’t do cute.
“She’s not your type.” Pam distracted him.
Startled, he realized they were alone at the table. Couples had started dancing, including Angie and Rogan with Zachary perched on Rogan’s shoulders. His nephew was oblivious to his parents’ on-again-off-again separation.
Nic knew what it was like to be a child caught up in an adult dispute. He refused to let Zachary endure the same helpless fear when everyone fought for control of your life without thinking twice about what was good for you. No, the moment his nephew was affected by his parents’ inability to grow up, Nic planned to step in.
“Have you decided what you’re going to do?” Pam asked, pulling his attention back to her. “I’m asking because I’ve gotten another text from your father’s PA.”
“I’m not giving them an answer until Monday,” Nic reminded her. “If he texts again, the answer is no.”
“You’re going to give the old man a heart attack.”
Nic sipped his wine and swallowed down the bitter anger he’d been trying to ignore for the last two weeks. He’d known Andreas Maretti had no head for business. He’d recently lost a huge deal with a Russian oil company to Mac Sellers and now Maretti Oil was on the verge of bankruptcy. Nic couldn’t understand how Andreas had squandered the fortune his second wife brought to their marriage, but now that it had happened, he couldn’t say he was surprised.
Andreas Maretti loved money. He loved to spend it, but had no idea how to make it.
Nic accepted he was partially to blame for Andreas losing the deal, but that deal had never been Andreas’ to lose. Now, as much as he despised the idea of giving the old man one red cent, he couldn’t watch his sister and her son lose their inheritance. He watched Angie and Rogan dance. Their son’s cheek rested on Rogan’s head as the little boy tried not to fall asleep. No, he couldn’t let Maretti Oil fail.
“Wait.” Nic set his wine glass down and Pam paused typing on her phone. “Tell him I’ll be there Monday morning. We’ll sort it out.”
Pam made no effort to conceal her shock. “You are supposed to be on a flight to Hong Kong Monday morning.”
“Delay it for a few days.”
“I can’t believe you are going to bail him out.”
“I can’t either…” Distracted by a familiar flash of green, Nic turned and Lizzie was all he could see. She was dancing with her father, who for such a big man was light on his feet.
Nothing had changed over the years. She looked innocent and untouchable. He couldn’t help remembering how sweet she’d been the first time they’d danced. When he’d pulled her into his arms she fit like she’d been made for him.
“She’s very young,” Pam said before he could take a step.
He hesitated. “Yes.”
“She has worked this entire room without once glancing at this table.” Pam traded her phone for her wineglass. “She’s too sweet for you, Nic.”
He nodded again. She’d get no argument from him.
“You’re not going to do the smart thing, are you?” She sighed, shaking her head when he said,
“No.”
She pushed away from the table and held her hand out for him. “Dance with me first before you jump off that cliff.”
Pam was right. He should leave her alone.
He wasn’t going to.
“Nic Maretti has been watching you all evening. You want to tell me what that’s about?”
“Your imagination.” Lizzie evaded as she danced with her father.
“He’s not for you. You have a brilliant career ahead of you and do not need the distraction. He’s too old and too much of a player.”
“He’s not that much older.”
Mac huffed. “He’s a decade older, but, Lizzie love, it wouldn’t matter if you were the same age. He won’t like it when he finds out how smart you are. I know I didn’t like it when I found out you’re smarter than me.”
“I’m not smarter than you. You always beat me at chess.”
“You let me win.” Mac’s voice gentled, making the conversation harder to bear. “He’s looking for an ornament. An undemanding girl who spends most of her time getting ready for him. Not researching millennium problems and trying to solve the secrets of the universe. His ego won’t take it.”
She tried to laugh, but it was a forced, choked noise. Because she knew her dad was right. Nic would never be interested in someone like her. “You know—” she cleared her throat, “—if he’d ever asked me out I might pay attention to what you’re saying.”
Mac laughed. “Stubborn little cuss, aren’t you?”
“You’ve obviously confused me with Stefan.”
“Stefan wishes he was as stubborn as you. Maretti has not asked you out because I made it clear at Rogan’s wedding that you were too young and off-limits.”
“You did not,” Lizzie cried. “Tell me you didn’t.”
She tried to stop moving but Mac kept them going on the dance floor. “Damn sure did and again at Zachary’s christening. He was smart enough to walk away then too. You’re twenty-one now. I’m staying out of it, but, sweetheart, he’s all wrong for you. I’m asking you to tell him no.”
“You’re worried about nothing.” Lizzie tried to lighten her voice but her throat was too tight.
“I don’t think so.” The music started to slow down. “One more thing, baby girl, I’m asking you politely to say no for his sake too. Because when he hurts you, I will tear him limb from limb and you don’t want his blood on my hands, do you, sweetie?”
“Okay,” she agreed, needing the embarrassing conversation to end.
“Good.” The music slowed to a stop and Mac glanced past her. “Maretti.”
“Sellers,” Nic rumbled from behind her, sending the hairs on the back of her neck to attention.
“Hmm.” Mac gave Nic a look that sent most men running. Lizzie swallowed hard, surprised when Nic held his ground. Mac turned to her. “Remember what we talked about.”
As soon as Mac was out of earshot, Nic held out his hand for her. “Let me guess, I’m too old for you?”
Caught off guard, she laughed. “Maybe.”
Nic eased her into his arms before she could protest. Not that she wanted to protest. The world faded to a distant memory. The heat of his body and his spicy lime scent had the same effect as a bunch of tequila shots.
“Did he really warn you off me?” Lizzie cringed.
Nic shrugged. “He did. It was refreshing. I’m used to society parents shoving their daughters at me, not trying to keep me away.”
“We’re not exactly society, are we?”
He tightened his arm around her. “I think the four hundred-odd people attending this wedding would disagree with you.”
The hand at the small of her back pressed against her before she could move away. She melted into him and tried not to think about the four hundred people she wished weren’t in the room with them.
“Lizzie, relax.” The gentleness in his voice made it worse.
“How?”
He leaned down, brushing his mouth across her forehead and setting off a chain reaction inside her. She would've jerked back if he hadn’t tightened his hold on her again.
The hand at her back stroked her lightly. “It’s okay, dance with me.”