Solving For Nic (6 page)

Lizzie wasn't sure how she'd gone from the most intense orgasm of her life to having Nic so deep inside her that her body vibrated with his pulse. Relieved it hadn’t hurt and he hadn’t seemed to notice, she tightened her arms around his neck. She didn’t want to ever let him go. “We're really going to do this?” she whispered.

He braced himself on his forearms, teasing her mouth with his. “We're already doing this.”

She dragged in another ragged breath, sighing as his mouth slid across her jaw. “Good.”

She tried not to tense up, expecting it to hurt or burn or worse when he pulled back. Her heart stopped when he sank back into her. Relief had her tearing up because it didn’t hurt. The last thing she’d wanted him to know was that it was her first time.

He moved again and another moan escaped her. It definitely didn’t hurt.

“Lizzie.”

Hearing her name dragged her back into real time. She relaxed into it, opening up for him and he slid deeper. The intensity caught her off guard. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All she could do was feel him. He was inside her, a part of her and he was perfect.

“Beautiful.” The gentle word started everything inside her spinning. The muscles in his back flexed under her fingers. He was strong but the long, powerful strokes were controlled. She wasn’t sure she’d survive if he let loose. All she could do was hold on as he drove harder and deeper and changed everything she’d imagined about being with him.

Then he was reaching down between them teasing her back to the edge, whispering things that made her burn hotter. He slid his hands beneath her, lifting her up, changing the angle and Lizzie lost the battle with the emotions building in her chest. Tears choked her as she came apart. She almost missed that he was falling apart with her.

She couldn’t stop shaking as he rolled them to their sides. She hoped he hadn’t been disappointed or noticed she hadn’t been sure what to do. She smiled when she felt his mouth press against her neck as he whispered her name again. His chest heaved and his hands didn’t feel quite steady.

Not disappointed. She decided. Relief warmed through her, then he eased away from her, his body sliding free of hers and she tried not to yelp at the sharp feeling of loss and unexpected burn of raw, over sensitized flesh. He swung off the bed. She curled onto her side and watched him disappear into the bathroom. A light switched on and she blinked back the intrusion of reality.

Her body was still vibrating from his touch when she sat up, pulling the sheet with her. She drew her knees to her chin and refused to regret this. The emotions churning inside her were hard to ignore. She hadn’t expected her first time to be a religious experience, but she hadn’t expected it to be so intense.

This was what she had wanted. Why in the hell was she on the verge of tears?

When he slid back into bed a few minutes later and pulled her tight into the warmth of his body, Lizzie felt cold. She forced her breathing to calm. She couldn’t face him yet. She was afraid he’d see the shock crawling through her like acid.

She’d wanted Nic to be her first. It had been impossible to be with anyone else because she had only wanted Nic.

Careful what you wish for?

She swallowed hard on a hysterical laugh. It had all been too much. She’d miscalculated in a big way. She’d wanted him out of her system and all she’d done was make things worse.

He rolled her to her back then, his gaze skimming over her in the low light. She forced a smile. Then the Rolling Stones started singing “Angie.”

Nic groaned. “She wouldn’t be calling this late if it wasn’t important. I’ll be right back.”

He slid out of bed and a few minutes later she could hear him speaking in low tones to his sister. He was speaking in Italian, which Lizzie found oddly endearing. When he ended the call, he didn’t come straight back to bed. She listened to him pour himself a drink in the quiet suite.

She feigned sleep when he returned and slid back into bed. She tried to stay relaxed as he pulled her into him. The warmth from his body and the strange safety she felt with him curved around her lulled her into a strange place between dreaming and consciousness.

Later, when she was sure he was asleep, she eased away from him, flinching as the slightest sound echoed through the quiet room.

Reality hit her as soon as her feet touched the floor. She’d had sex with Nic Maretti. In real life. Not a dream.

She’d expected to be elated, but she wasn’t sure how she felt.

Now what?

Panic?

He was asleep now, but what about when he woke? What would she say? She didn’t know how to handle the morning-after part.

Panic was the correct answer and it clawed deep when it hit.

What if it hadn’t been great for him? She couldn’t face finding out something so important to her was an ordinary hook up for him. She couldn’t stay. She needed to be anywhere else in the world. Her heart and her pride wouldn’t survive an awkward scene.

She eased out of bed and into her clothes. She could leave a note, but she had no idea what to say. She’d text him later, tell him what a great time she’d had. She fastened the straps on her heels in the elevator on the way down. It wasn’t morning yet. Maybe her bridesmaid dress wouldn’t be too out of place when she walked through the lobby.

He’d be relieved, she assured herself when a valet put her in a taxi. She was saving him the awkward morning-after scene where they pretended it meant more than it did. He’d want to see her again and she’d say absolutely. Then he wouldn’t call and she would pretend it wasn’t eating her alive. No, she couldn’t. She had school to think about. She had her life all planned. Nic didn’t fit anywhere in her plans. Not that he would want to. She wasn’t his type.

No. She refused to be sorry about any of this. Now if she could stop crying, things would be perfect.

Dawn crept through the windows of the hotel suite and his cell phone was buzzing somewhere in the room. Nic didn’t move. He’d been awake for a while, lying in bed with his eyes closed. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the empty pillow next to him. The idea made his stomach clench and all of him ache.

He wasn’t sure when she’d left. He remembered pulling her tight into his body as she’d gone to sleep safely wrapped in his arms, her even breathing lulling him into an uncharacteristically deep sleep.

The anger and emptiness churning in his stomach was real. He didn’t like the unfamiliar hollowness slowly expanding in his chest.

He straightened, swinging his legs around until his feet touched the floor. This was why he had rules. He did not spend the night with his lovers. It gave them the wrong idea.

But he hadn’t wanted to let Lizzie go. The sex had been amazing. Her lack of experience had been refreshing. He’d wanted to hold her and feel her heart beat while she slept.

The irony was not lost on him. The girl who made him forget all his rules had walked out on him. It made him feel…foolish and that other thing he refused to deal with.
Abandoned
.

No. He pushed out of bed and headed for the shower, anger churning away the other feelings he’d spent his whole life avoiding.

She’d done him a favor. She saved them a big uncomfortable scene. His anger was misplaced, and by the time he walked out of the suite dressed and ready to leave, he was himself again. Everything was calm and under control.

As long as he didn’t close his eyes, because the minute he did the night played out again for him in full Technicolor and the hollowness threatened to consume him.

“You’re sure about this?” Pam repeated the question for the millionth time before they stepped into the executive elevator.

“Yes.” Nic shoved his hands in his pockets, hiding his clenched fists.

“It’s a lot of money.” Pam’s attention was fixed on the screen of her tablet as she swiped through the pages of the agreement Nic was on his way to sign. “You’ll never see it again.”

Nic nodded. He didn’t care about the money. Money had never been an issue for Nic. He had way more than his fair share and no matter how much of it he gave away or loaned, he seemed to make more. It wasn’t the money that had his stomach churning in protest. It was the hour he was going to have to sit across a conference table from the pompous bastard who took the money as his due.

Nic conceded Andreas Maretti might not be wrong but he was tired of being constantly reminded of the sacrifices Andreas had made. Nic hoped the obscene amount of money he was handing the old man would shut him up once and for all.

“Have you decided who you’re going to appoint to the board?” Pam glanced at him when he didn’t answer. “They are going to ask.”

“I have sixty days to decide. I’ll let you know.”

“Make sure it’s not me,” she warned him. “I will quit if you make me work with your father. It’s bad enough being in the same building with him but I’m not cleaning up his mess.”

Nic nodded. He hadn’t planned to saddle Pam with trying to put Maretti Oil back together. Andreas had done a spectacular job of running it into the ground. Whoever Nic put in charge of damage control would have a full time job. He couldn’t spare Pam. “I was thinking about Madlyn Robicheaux,” he admitted.

“She won’t leave New Orleans,” Pam dismissed. “You should appoint Mac Sellers. Can you imagine the look on Andreas’ face?”

Nic choked back an unexpected laugh as the elevator doors slid open on the top floor. He braced himself then stepped into the ostentatious outer office of Maretti Oil. When Andreas had taken over his second wife’s family company, he’d had the unmitigated gall to rename the company and redecorated the office in what could only be called vintage Euro-trash.

Nic and Pam were shown to a conference room. The lawyers from both sides were already seated at the table. Andreas Maretti was not. Nic had purposely been ten minutes late for the meeting and had expected to find the old man signing his part of the paperwork. He should have known better.

He slid Pam’s chair out for her and waited for her to be seated before he took the seat next to her. He waved away the hovering secretary who wanted to bring him coffee or something more personal if he wanted, if the look she gave him was anything to go by.

Five minutes later, Pam covered his hand and Nic realized he’d started tapping his fingers on the conference table.

“We’ll take that coffee.” She broke the tense silenced in the conference room as the attorneys seated across the table pretended to be paying attention to what they were saying to each other. When everyone knew they were just waiting for Nic to lose his cool.

Except Nic never lost his cool. This power play of Andreas’ was almost pathetic. A smart man wouldn’t have left Nic cooling his heels in a conference room full of junior lawyers and assistants. A smarter man would’ve already signed the loan paperwork before he arrived. A smarter man would have known Nic would rather walk back out the door than hand over the amount of money he was about to give to his worst enemy.

Andreas’ PA swept into the room, breaking the tense silence. “Mr. Maretti, I’m very sorry. He’s been delayed by an international conference call.”

Nic did not acknowledge the younger man, but Pam did. “Steven, please make sure your boss understands he has two minutes before Mr. Maretti leaves this horror of an office, then walks out of this building while Maretti Oil goes under.”

Steven nodded as he hurried out of the room.

“Amateur,” Pam hissed under her breath. “Why are we here again?”

“Zachary,” Nic said and Pam nodded.

“You could take this money and start a new company for Zachary. This is crazy, Nic.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“I’m always right.” Pam pushed back in her seat and prepared to stand.

Nic waved her back down. Zachary was only one of the reasons for the loan. Guilt was the other one. Gnawing, soul-sucking guilt Nic hadn’t been unable to shake for over twelve years.

The smoked glass doors pushed open and the pompous peacock strode in wearing a new custom suit and enough Botox on his face to paralyze an army. He was every bit the gracefully aging Italian aristocrat. He should have been standing on the deck of his yacht or gambling at a casino on the French Riviera. Andreas was pushing sixty-five but didn’t appear a day over fifty. Preservation didn’t come cheap. Nothing about him suggested he was drowning in debt and Nic was throwing him a life preserver.

Nic regretted not insisting on signing the paperwork separately. Arrogant as usual, Andreas had demanded they sign the paperwork at the same time. Nic hadn’t been surprised Andreas had the nerve to try and dictate terms.

He should’ve refused. Agreeing to meet in person had given Andreas the wrong impression. Nic hadn’t been the eager-to-please son for a long time. Andreas’ ego would be his downfall.

“Nicolas.” Andreas was all delighted charm and winning smiles with his arm extended as if they were a loving father and son.

Nic had no choice but to stand and shake hands. He reminded himself this man had no power over him. He swallowed down his bitterness as Andreas clasped his hand in a too-tight grip. The same grip that had dragged a six year old Nic away from his mother’s graveside and away from the only home he’d ever known.