Sweet Seduction Serenade (33 page)

Then Nick spoiled the moment, by mumbling - and it was definitely a mumble, I think he was half asleep - those wretched words. Which I obviously wasn't going to be rid of any time soon, if his smile against my skin and the rumbling laughter I could feel through his chest was anything to go by.

"So, dream, ice-blue eyed, perfect cowboy, then. Care to elaborate, angel?"

No, I did not.

And I was revising my position on that statement. Because Nick was fast becoming sexy-yet-annoyingly-persistent-dog-with-a-bone instead.

Laughter met my silence as he rolled off to the side and tucked me under his arm and against his chest.

"Never mind," he announced cheerfully, gently stroking a hand down my side. "I'll get it out of you eventually. You are
so
mine, Evangeline Rowe. Inside and out."

I knew he was right. I
was
his. Inside and out. There was no denying what I felt for this man, who was sleeping soundly beside me, wrapped up in my body and limbs, as I lay there and contemplated how close to perfection I had come. And how close to losing it all I still was.

There was nowhere else I wanted to be and although returning to New Zealand and facing my past - on so many levels - was frightening beyond measure, I wouldn't have it any other way. Sure, I was scared. Scared of seeing my Dad die, of missing the chance to say,
I love you
, despite my mixed memories of my childhood and his absence as I grew up. Despite it all, I loved my Dad and I needed to say those words - even if he was still unable to say them back.

Which seemed to be the story of my life. Nick had said a lot of things, but he still hadn't said
that
. The lack of those particular words from Nick left a gaping big hole in my newly rediscovered heart. But it didn't stop me from loving him back. Or from being petrified of this realisation, of finally facing this truth after eight years, and then have it all taken from me by the Russells.

All my growing years Levi and his brothers had tormented me. Taking anything good I managed to acquire for myself and wrecking it completely, just because they could. My guitar was the only thing they didn't destroy - and I was thinking now that was due to my Dad - but although they didn't destroy it, they broke it frequently. Coming as close to trashing it as they could, but not crossing the line. Until my Martin almost three weeks ago.

I was sure Levi gained an enormous amount of pleasure out of finally demolishing the one thing he'd not been able to wreck when we were young. A poignant moment for him no doubt. One for the scrapbook. But even though he'd never been able to completely annihilate my guitar all those years ago, he'd certainly done his best with everything else. Clothes, books, my pathetic clingfilm wrapped lunch, my face, my friends. Even boyfriends were subjected to the Russell boys' welcome. Nothing was sacred - except, it seems, my guitar - if Levi saw I had something precious, even if I tried to pretend it wasn't, he'd destroy it in ten seconds flat.

He lacked finesse, but his aim was always true.

And now I was going back to face him. To face the past I had escaped. And it scared me. It made my throat dry and my palms sweat. But, I was ready. I had no idea what I would do, but I was ready to do it all the same.

First Dad. Then Levi and his family.

Then perhaps Nick. If Nick truly felt the same way and said the words my heart longed to hear.

Somehow, through all of these fearful thoughts, I found sleep. Only to have Cary wake us both with gentle shakes and muted words of, "Rise and shine, sleeping beauties. You've got a plane to catch."

I grumbled as I rolled out of bed, noticing our naked states that my best friend would have been quite aware of as the sheets were down wrapped around our hips. I'm sure he enjoyed the view of Nick lying there, for a few seconds I certainly did. When Nick's sleep deprived eyes found mine I almost sighed. But hid the reaction by bending over and sweeping up my scattered clothes and heading to the bathroom to wake up.

Twenty minutes later and we were ready. My bags stacked at the front door. My old Fender in its sticker covered and battered case. My cowgirl hat in my hand and my heart in my throat. I blinked a few times as I took in the lounge room one last time. Nick was carrying my bags out to Cary's car, he'd only brought an overnighter, so my gear would take up most of our shared baggage allowance and some. Forcing back tears I prepared to follow him, but Cary snagged an arm around my waist.

"Sweetie," he whispered. "You'll be back for holidays. I'll be over before you know it too. This is not good-bye, Eva, but 'so long for now' instead."

I hugged my best friend fiercely, holding back the tears somehow. Nick came back in the room, took us both in; arms tightly curled around each other, and quietly picked up my last bag and the
guitar case and walked back out to the car. By the time Cary and I heard the boot of his car slamming shut, we were sniffing repeatedly. But I can proudly say neither of us were bawling at least.

The drive to the airport was filled with Cary's usual upbeat conversations about anything and everything and nothing at all. And at the airport we convinced him to drop us and run. He had to work today and he'd barely had any more sleep than us. But that wasn't the reason I insisted he leave. I knew if he stayed and I walked away from him through that departure gate, I would cry.

Cowgirls don't cry.

Last minute hugs, overly cheerful farewells and we were alone. Nick held my hand through the entire check-in, through the walk to the departure area and to our gate, and finally when we boarded the plane. Neither of us spoke and when a single tear escaped from under my eyelid as the plane lifted off from the ground, he simply reached over and caught it with his thumb, but didn't make a sound.

Nashville faded beneath the aeroplane’s wings. Beautiful, bustling, full of Country music and life. It would always hold a special place in my heart and I told myself, that this was not the end. Cary was right, I'd be back to visit, but my life now -
my heart
- was somewhere else.

We did manage to sleep on the flight, despite there being so much to worry about, so much uncertainty ahead, I fell asleep with my head on Nick's shoulder and his arm wrapped around my back and let my body, at least, prepare for the nightmare ahead.

Just over twenty odd hours later we were home. Auckland putting on a dazzling display of early morning sunshine, the sun rising over the horizon and bathing the city in an orange glow. My heart skipped a beat at the glorious sight that met us. The Sky Tower in the distance standing sentinel above the CBD. Somewhere in its shadow lay Sweet Seduction and the thought of the music-store-come-chocolatier-come-café made me smile. I'd wanted to be able to call it
my place
, to be as familiar there as most of those who attended our gig seemed to be. I'd been jealous of the fact that Gus, Gonzo and Spike could do that and that I couldn't. But now, watching the tip of the Sky Tower disappear as the plane lowered in the sky, lining up the runway, I realised things had changed.

Sweet Seduction could be part of my life now. Gen, Kelly, even Katie, Nick's sister, could all be a part of it too. I had made more friends in the short amount of time having visited Sweet Seduction, than I had made in the entire eight years of living in Nashville. Suddenly coming home to Auckland, despite the problems that lay ahead, seemed inordinately right.

Ben met us at the arrivals terminal, dressed in black, ASI paraphernalia gracing his thick black leather belt, a duffel bag lying beside his slightly scuffed thick soled boots. Nick met him with a tilt of his chin and automatically reached down for the bag as Ben offered me a kiss on the cheek in greeting. I watched in stunned silence as Nick geared up, in full sight of passers-by. His stun gun, taser, handcuffs, pepper spray and already holstered black matt pistol all threaded meticulously onto his belt. He hadn't even waited to exit the airport before arming himself to the teeth.

"Is that really necessary?" I asked as I furtively looked around for airport security to accost us for displaying weapons so freely in the terminal.

Nick didn't answer, but Ben - who I realised had been standing in a way so as to shield Nick from most of the public's view - did.

"Security is aware we're here, Eva. They know what we do, we've worked with them before. And yes, it's necessary."

My stomach pitched dramatically at the look Ben gave me. A meaningful glance to convey the truth of his words. I held his gaze for a moment and then automatically looked down at the floor, frown in place.

"Just what do you expect will happen?" I asked the linoleum at my feet.

"Were you followed?" Nick asked Ben instead of answering my question.

Ben snorted in disgust. "As if."

"There's your answer, angel," Nick said lacing his hand in mine and leaning forward to kiss me on the side of the neck. "Ben's good at what he does, no one will know you're here because of him. But your family will have been made aware of it as soon as we walked through that arrivals gate. They have access to the network and although they won't be able to get here in time to intercept us, they could locate us as we leave south Auckland and head to ASI HQ."

"Network?" I asked as we started heading out of the terminal building, Ben pushing our luggage trolley and alertly looking all around, as Nick held my hand firmly and scanned the environment right alongside his employee.

"The underworld, the underbelly of criminal society in Auckland. The Russell's are two-bit players, not entrenched in the scene too deeply, but they are on radar and have been known to associate with some of the big guns. Namely Declan King and his cohorts. If they've done King any favours lately, they'd be able to call them in to keep tabs on you."

My mind reeled at that knowledge. Nick had mentioned that he'd put me on radar when I arrived back in town, but he hadn't said anything about Levi and his brothers being on radar before. Was it the same radar? Did this Declan King character know all about me too? Did being on radar mean every Tom, Dick and Harry knew all about you?

"One day you're gonna explain what being on radar actually means," I muttered as he held the door open to a black SUV we'd arrived at and I climbed inside.

"It's pretty simple, angel," Nick said, leaning in the door, one arm along the top of the door frame, the other hanging onto the roof of the car itself. "There's two ways you're on radar. One. You break the law and mess with criminals. Two. The law's trying to protect you and keep tabs on your status through its own network of contacts."

"So, they're not the same radar?" I asked, frowning in concentration.

"They are and they aren't," he said obscurely. "Can't not be as both the underworld and us use the same contacts for the most part, but the outcome is entirely different. Us placing you on radar does not bring you under King's - or anyone like his - eyes. Only if he's looking for you in the first place. But in order for us to have an ear to the ground in organized crime we need to get dirty to do it. Using radar is a dirty business, but without it we'd be blind."

He shut the door then, leaving me to wonder just what sort of world Nicholas Anscombe traversed and how the hell I got mixed up in it.

Nick and Ben talked the entire trip into Newmarket and the ASI offices. Their conversation - for the most part - was all gobbledygook. Short sentences, acronyms and abbreviations that meant little or nothing to me, as Ben brought Nick up to date on what had happened since he left the country to track me down. I stared out of the window in the rear seat of the car and watched the city I now called home pass by.

So familiar yet so different from what I was used to. I missed Nashville already and craved Cary like a kid craves her next sugar fix. If Cary was here this would all seem like a walk in the park, but now I just had me to rely on. My eyes flicked up to the front of the vehicle and took in Nick's profile as he sat in the passenger seat looking across the cab to Ben, who was still talking in that clipped way the ASI guys get when on the job. I guessed I had Nick to lean on now too, but a part of me, so long ago forged and hard to break now, wouldn't allow myself to walk that path just yet.

If the Russells succeeded in ruining this for me - and that was still an enormous possibility, given their less than pristine backgrounds - I needed to keep some distance and relying on Nick for support wouldn't achieve that. Darn it all to hell, it would achieve the exact opposite. I couldn't allow that.

I took a deep breath and watched Broadway flash past as we approached the ASI building. A thought occurred to me.

"Won't the underworld be watching your offices?" I asked, interrupting the conversation up front.

"Yes," Nick answered succinctly.

"Then isn't it a bad idea to be heading there?" I asked the obvious. I thought they wanted to keep me out of the Russell's clutches, heading to ASI where eyes would be peeled didn't seem like a good idea.

"No," Nick offered, but didn't elaborate. The conversation picked up in the front again as though I hadn't asked a pertinent question at all.

I frowned down at the floor of the car. The sound of tyres squealing on the smooth concrete floor of the underground garage at ASI broke into my contemplations. Nick had something planned that he didn't want to share and although every gut instinct in my body screamed for me to challenge him on it, I reluctantly acknowledged that he knew more about this type of thing than I ever could.