Under A Harvest Moon (10 page)
What was she doing alone in her room? Nico closed his eyes. He could only imagine what he'd like to be doing with her in her room. She'd looked damn good after the swim, her clothes molded tightly to every luscious curve. Lust dragged at his gut. He couldn't remember the last time he'd lusted after a woman, wanted her with an intensity that had nothing to do with logic, only instinct.
So maybe it wasn't exactly Danielle that kept him awake, maybe it was sex, or better yet, the lack of sex in his life. Sleeping with Danielle would be a mistake on so many levels. He didn't need the complication.
Nico opened his eyes. Danielle remained at the window. Was she searching for him in the darkness? Nico swore he could feel the current between them, a raw energy that stretched between her bedroom and his front porch. Then she was gone. Her light went out. Great. Now he was left to imagine her peeling off her clothes, getting into bed. Arousal again shot through him, more potent than any drug. Nico jumped out of the chair. Maybe a walk would calm him down, push the thoughts of Danielle from his mind.
He left the porch, intending to make a wide loop around Whitney House. He set out, his stride long. The whisper of the grape leaves surrounded him. Somewhere in the fields he heard the hiss of water as the sprinklers worked their magic. He rounded the back side of Whitney House and took a detour through the rose garden.
"Who's there?" Danielle's voice called out in the darkness.
Nico stopped, trying to pinpoint her whereabouts. "It's me."
"Nico." He could hear the relief in her voice. "You scared me." She stepped out of the shadows. "I'm a little nervous after the rose cutting incident."
"You should be." He closed the space between them. God help him, he could smell her, a light sweet scent that wound its way through his already battered libido. "You shouldn't be out here, alone in the dark."
"I'm not alone now," she said, and he knew without seeing her that she smiled. "Why are you up?"
"Why are you?"
"I miss Kaiden." She crossed her arms over her chest, rubbing her arms with her hands. "I'm worried. I don't trust Peter. I needed air."
Here he was, having fantasy after fantasy about her and she was worried about her son. He was no better than an oversexed high school kid.
"Do you think you need to be worried?" he asked, wondering just how far her ex-husband would go.
"I'm not sure." She walked over to a stone bench and sat.
He joined her. Danielle scooted over to make more room for him.
"What is it you don't trust?" Nico asked, her worries confirming his own dislike of Peter.
"I'm afraid he may take Kaiden." She gave a soft sigh. "The sad thing is, he wouldn't take him because he wants to be with him; he'd take him to hurt me, or worse, he'd use Kaiden to try and get a piece of the vineyard."
"He can't do that, Danielle," Nico said, wanting to reassure her. "The vineyard doesn't belong to you."
"No, not yet, but it will."
"You're not married anymore. He'd have one heck of a fight on his hands if he tried to get a piece of the vineyard through legal means. Do you really think he'd put the money out for an attorney?"
"Yes," she said with a nod of her head. "If he thought he could win. He's always been on the lookout for easy money."
Nico reached over and took her hand. "I won't let him do that to you."
Danielle sucked in her breath, the sound almost imperceptible, but Nico heard it. She didn't pull her hand away. Instead, her fingers tightened around his, as if they were stronger together.
Slowly, he became aware of the press of her thigh against his, aware of the softness of her hand, aware of the light floral scent that was starting to drive him crazy. He wanted to kiss her, taste her. He told himself it would be stupid to start something with her, but right now his senses were dialed into skin, heat, and sex.
"It's not your fight, Nico," she said softly.
"If the vineyard's involved, it's my fight." He made a slow circle on the back of her hand with his thumb. His body caught fire, hardened, began to imagine how it would feel to find release with her.
Danielle yanked her hand away and stood. "It's late. We should both be in bed. Three a.m. comes awfully early."
His body mourned the loss of her touch, but he understood it. She was right to put the brakes on. They couldn't have a relationship, not with the vineyard between them. Emotions were best left out of their deal.
"You don't need to come with me tomorrow," he said. "Go to the office. Work regular hours. Gayle has plenty for you to do."
"I may do that." She stifled a yawn with her hand. "I'm beat. I'm going to try and get some sleep."
"I'll walk you back."
"Thanks. It's a little creepy out here."
He placed his hand on her elbow, guiding her to the house. He waited until she was safely inside before starting for his own place. When he was halfway, he stopped and swung around, noting that her bedroom light was on.
Reassured she was safe, he continued on, climbing the porch steps and letting himself into his house, the cool air inside almost shocking.
Once in his bedroom, he closed the door. At the window, he released the lock and let the warm air in. He shucked his clothes before tossing the covers back. Falling onto the bed naked, the night air played across his skin like a lover's soft breath. And when his mind wandered to Danielle he pulled it back, making himself think about her husband, about what Peter Rankin was up to.
Unlike Danielle, her ex-husband was a safe topic, one that wouldn't keep him up all night -- literally.
"Are you kidding?" Danielle's eyes scanned the amount underlined in red. She'd spent the last half hour at Fox Realty, going over the market guide her realtor, Lance Fox, had prepared for her. He'd given her the specs on every piece of property available in a fifty-mile radius. He'd been thorough, she'd give him that. "I never dreamed the house and vineyard would be worth that much."
"You're sitting on pure gold." Lance ran a hand over his bald head, a head so smooth she was sure he shaved it on a daily basis. About thirty-five, he looked too young to be totally bald. A dark black goatee completed his Howie Mandell look. "Germaine Cellars is interested, and they'll pay top dollar. Whitney Vineyards can provide them with everything they need, including built in customers."
Danielle glanced up from the paperwork. "They've called several times the past week, wanting to set up a meeting with me, but it's Nico I want to sell to."
"Meet with Germaine Cellars anyway," Lance said, his dark eyes filled with the promise of a hefty commission. "Let them woo you, enjoy the attention, but don't talk price, that's my job. We want to get top dollar for the vineyard."
"Okay, I'll think about it." Danielle closed the market guide, her body alive with excitement and dread. Could she do it? Could she sell and walk away? "Can I take this with me? I'd like to go over it again when I have more time."
"Of course." He smiled. "It's yours. Take your time, study it. Selling is the best option. If you invest right, you may never have to work again."
Never have to work again
? After spending the better part of the last year living as the working poor, Danielle was ready for a comfortable life. What would it be like to live free of money worries? She could find out. She only had to agree to sell once Whitney Vineyards passed to her. With money the possibilities were endless. Money would mean a better school for Kaiden, a nice home, shopping without looking at prices. And best of all, she wouldn't be dependent on a man for her survival.
She'd come from an overbearing, cheating father, straight to an even more overbearing, liar of a husband. She'd drawn one important conclusion: a man said whatever he thought a woman wanted to hear. From this point forward, she vowed to be in charge of her own destiny. The money from the sale of Whitney Vineyards would help her get there. Boy, did she like the thought of that.
"Thanks for all your hard work." Danielle stood. She extended her hand. Lance shook it, his grip firm and business-like. "I've got a lot to think about."
"I'll look forward to hearing from you."
Lance escorted Danielle to the door. On her way out, she slipped the market guide into her purse.
Danielle started down the street to where she'd parked her car. The rich scent of fresh-brewed coffee pulled her attention to a coffee house on the corner. Deciding to treat herself, she went inside and ordered a latte. Buying quality coffee was yet another luxury she'd be able to afford without guilt when she sold the vineyard.
Coffee in hand she left the store, but didn't get far before Nico's big black truck pulled up beside her. He rolled the passenger window down.
"Hi," she said, surprised to see him.
"What're you doing in town?" His wind tossed hair made him look wild and sexy. Unlike Peter, Nico didn't use hair spray. He didn't need it. Why mess with perfection?
"It's my lunch hour and I had some errands to run." She didn't tell him about the visit with Lance Fox. He'd flip out. A tiny ping of guilt dinged her, but she pushed it away. She had every right to check out all her options.
"Have you eaten? We could grab a bite? I've got an hour to kill before I need to pick Maria up." His brows lifted as if to coax her into saying yes.
"I can't," she said with regret. "My errands took longer than expected. I should probably get back." She moved closer to the truck, to the air conditioning seeping out the open window. She leaned forward, catching the cool air.
"You're the boss," Nico said. "No one will care if you take a long lunch. Get in." He reached across the seat and opened the door.
Did she want to have lunch with Nico? For whatever reason, he was making it his business to spend time with her. A part of her wanted to enjoy the attention, but the saner side of her brain said, Beware. He wants you to sell to him. He has his own selfish reasons for keeping you happy, reasons that aren't even remotely romantic.
A car drove up behind Nico, honking.
"Get in," he urged.
Ignoring her internal ramblings, Danielle got into the truck, quickly closing the door.
"Ricardo and Rita's?" Nico asked, keeping his eyes on the road.
"Sure." She hadn't been to Ricardo and Rita's Diner since she was a teenager. Ricardo and Rita Sanchez were the parents of her childhood friend, Jazzmyn. A warm feeling of nostalgia for Jazzmyn rushed through her. How good would it be to reconnect with her old friend? "Is Jazzmyn still around?"
Nico gave her a sideways glance. "Haven't you stayed in touch?"
"No." She set her coffee in the drink holder between their seats. "And it's my fault. I let Peter influence me. I totally lost my backbone during my marriage to him. He didn't want me to stay connected with anyone in Sun Grove. And I guess a part of me didn't want to be connected to anyone here either." She gave him a sad smile, a smile filled with regret. "It will be great to see Jazzmyn again."
Nico smiled as he turned the corner and parallel parked on the street. He exited the truck before coming around to help Danielle down. She took his hand, and when her feet were safely on the ground, Nico continued to touch her, his hand on the small of her back.
The man was definitely sending her signals; she just wished she knew if they were real or manufactured as a way to keep her happy until the sale went through.
Together they walked into the diner. The scent of Monday's special, roasted turkey, filled the air. Danielle's stomach rumbled.
"I can't believe they still have hot turkey sandwiches on Mondays," she said.