Deadly Obsession (34 page)

Shit
. His teeth clamped so tightly his molars ached. “Vivian.”

“Oh, dear. Did I say something wrong?”

Couldn’t she have kept her mouth shut for once? His eyes shot to Lauren, and seeing the dismay on her pretty face, he groaned. Oh, yeah. She knew all about Harry Winston. She gave him a tight smile, then turned to speak with Kaden, the surrounding chatter drowning out their words.

Nic grabbed Vivian’s elbow and pulled her aside. “What’s your problem?”

“I was just surprised, darling. Lorna doesn’t seem the type to wear diamonds and padparadscha sapphires.” She chuckled. “I bet the poor girl thought they were crystals.”

Nic fingers clamped around the stem of his glass, almost snapping it. If Vivian insulted Lauren one more time or even said her name wrong, he was going to strangle the woman.

“Why can’t a guy buy jewelry for his girlfriend without everyone second-guessing him?” he snapped.

“Girlfriend?” she sputtered.

“That’s right.” The urge to get in her face was strong, but as his mother always told him, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. He brightened his fake smile. “Can you be nice to her tonight, please? It would mean a lot to me.”

“Of course. You’re celebrating,” she said, her lips pursed.

His brow arched. “Celebrating?” What was she getting at now?

“Didn’t she tell you?
Vanity Fair
called. They like her photos.”

Instantly, her smug tone put him on alert. He had no idea what she was talking about, but if he played along, maybe she’d go away. He’d ask Lauren about it later. “Yes, we’re celebrating Lauren’s good news. So don’t ruin it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” She patted his arm and disappeared into the crowd.

Nic downed the rest of his champagne and let out a long breath.
Christ
. The evening had barely started and already he was exhausted.

Kaden sidled up to him. “Everything okay, sir?”

“Yeah. I’m just wondering what else can go wrong tonight.” Several feet away, Lauren chatted with a group of women. She looked up and smiled at him, melting away the growing tension in his gut.

Moments later, she returned to his side. “This place is great. The children must be having a blast.”

“Speaking of kids, let’s go find them. They’re more interesting than the adults anyways.”

Threading his fingers through hers, he kissed their joined knuckles and led her to the Ecosystems exhibit, where the younger attendees and several of the older ones were being entertained.

Nic paused as they entered the gallery, taking in the sight of the children—all in varying stages of illness. Lauren turned so that his body shielded her and rummaged through her handbag, pulling out a tissue. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice tear-stained. “Give me a minute to pull myself together.”

Nic rubbed her back. The same bittersweet emotions were twisting his own heart. But this night wasn’t about him. It was about the children, whether they were in wheelchairs pushed by parents or on crutches, whether they were weak and balding, or whether they were dependent on an oxygen tank. All these children had one thing in common tonight—joy, expressed in a multitude of ways, ranging from shouts of laughter to a sparkle in a bright eye.

Pulling her close, he whispered, “It’s all right,
chérie
. It’s difficult to watch but even harder to live it. We need to be strong, be happy for them. Tonight, many are seeing their dreams come true.”

She nodded, then wiped her eyes and gave him a shaky smile. After kissing her lips softly, he took her hand, and they strolled through the exhibit. They spoke to each child and their parents, welcoming them to the gala.

Too soon, it was time for everyone to move to the banquet hall for the dinner and speeches. Nic gave piggyback rides to some of the children, depositing them in their seats, while Lauren walked with some of the younger children, holding hands.

When everyone was seated, Lauren turned to Nic, her eyes bright. “You’re a good man, Nic.” He looked around the table, then at the other two tables filled with children and their families. Conversation flowed and everyone seemed happy. He wasn’t the man he wanted to be, but he was trying.

As Nic was finishing his meal, the president of the organizing committee, Fred Sanders, walked up to the mike and began the formal part of the evening. Ten minutes later, Nic stepped onto the stage, the audience clapping and cheering. At the podium, he pulled the notes for his speech out of an inner pocket of his jacket, careful not to flash his gun.

His eyes searched the audience. Summer or NicsBitch, whoever the stalker was, could be here right now. He shot a quick glance in Lauren’s direction to make sure Kaden was seated beside her.

Satisfied that Lauren was safe, he began speaking. “Ladies and gentlemen, the children, the Make-A-Wish Foundation, and I thank you for joining us this evening. With your generosity, the Foundation grants wishes to thousands of sick children each year, allowing them for a short time to push aside their struggles and enjoy simply being children.”

He explained how the donations were managed, how wish recipients were selected, and how wish grantors were found. In the end, he thanked everyone for the honor of being Wish Ambassador and host of the gala. “We have some wonderful entertainment coming up and the exhibits will be open throughout the rest of the night. Enjoy the evening,” he concluded.

As he went to step off the stage, Fred stopped him and whispered, “I hate to spring this on you at the last minute, but one of the children has taken a turn for the worse and we’ve had to move her up the list. We can grant her wish tonight, if you agree. It involves you.”

“Of course.”

At Fred’s signal, a young girl was wheeled onto the stage followed by a man and woman. “Nic,” Fred said, introducing them. “This is Claire and her parents, Jim and Linda.”

Based on her face, Claire appeared to be about twelve, but her body was so frail and emaciated, she looked much younger. Although she was in the final stages of a terminal illness, her eyes glowed with an inner peace and confidence that was humbling. She smiled up at him.

Nic crouched in front of her so she wouldn’t have to crane her neck to talk to him. “What’s your wish, sweetheart?”

“I want to dance with you. To the
Luv Me Luv Me
song.”

Nic looked up at Fred and the girl’s parents and arched a brow. Shaggy’s lyrics were better suited to a night club than a gala.

Fred grinned. “We have a cleaned-up version.”

Nic met Claire’s eyes and smiled. “Do you want to dance in your chair?”

She shook her head. “In your arms.”

Bracing himself, he slid one hand under her knees and another behind her back, lifted her out of the chair and cradled her against his chest. Christ, he barely felt her weight in his arms. Swallowing hard, he asked, “All right like this?”

“Perfect,” she whispered, looping her thin arms around his neck.

The first notes of the song started and he began to swing his hips in time with the beat. This was not going to be the same dance he’d danced last week at Taylors. Was it only last week? Felt like a lifetime ago.

“Sing it, please,” Claire said. He focused on her face. Although she was a little out of breath, her eyes sparkled. This was her wish, her moment. All she wanted was a dance with him. He’d make it the best dance of her life, and his.

For her ears only, he began singing the lyrics. With each twirl and dip, her face became more animated and her shrieks louder. God, he couldn’t believe he was making her so happy. This girl, in the too-big dress that drowned her shrinking body.

As the song neared its end, her laughter started to fade and her breathing became labored. He slowed his steps, turning his back to the audience. “Is everything okay? Should I stop now?”

Her eyes widened. “No!” she breathed, and although he could barely hear her, the desperation in her eyes told him she’d meant to scream it. Panting raggedly, she whispered, “I don’t want this dance to ever end.” Tears pooled in her eyes. As he watched, a single drop escaped and slipped down her cheek. He couldn’t breathe. His chest ached and his heart broke. If keeping her in his arms would save her life, he’d do it. He’d hold this little girl forever.

The music ended and Claire’s parents stepped closer with the wheelchair. He eased her into it. When his arm slid out from under her knees, she grabbed it, pulling him to her. Knowing what she wanted, what she needed, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight. “I love you, Nic,” she said, her voice soft next to his ear.

Forcing himself to speak past the tightness in his throat, he said, “I love you too, sweet Claire. Be well, be at peace.” She nodded. Pasting a bright Nic The Lover smile on his face, he kissed her cheek and stepped back.

As Fred introduced the first musical guest, Nic stumbled off the stage, blinded by the tears in his eyes. That had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. Knowing he couldn’t keep up the act much longer, he searched for an escape. When he spotted Lauren standing at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for him, the tears started to spill.

She held open her arms and he stepped into her embrace. Her warmth enveloped him as she gathered him to her and pressed his head into the crook of her neck, shielding his face from prying eyes.

The band started into their first song and music surrounded them. She swayed her hips, rocking him, comforting him. “Let it out, Nic. No one can see you.”

“She’s dying, Lauren.” His voice broke. “I held a dying girl in my arms, and all I could do was dance with her.”

Her arms tightened around him as his tears wet her neck. “I know this is hard, Nic. But it’s not your fault. You did what you could for her.”

He shook his head. “I can’t fix it. And I can’t stop it. It’s happening all over again.” Rachel hadn’t died, but her legs had. Adrift in the tangle of his emotions, drowning in memories, he clung to Lauren, wanting to lose himself in her.

“What’s happening again, Nic?” she asked, her voice gentle.

He wanted to tell her, to unburden his overwhelmed heart. But to do that, he’d have to admit to almost killing Rachel. “I wish I could have saved her,” he admitted. “I wish I could save Claire. Save them all.” But he couldn’t, and soon Claire would be gone.

If he didn’t want to lose Lauren too, he had to keep the truth about Rachel hidden. What he’d done was unforgivable.

Lauren pushed Nic’s head up with her hands and cupped his wet cheeks. “Even you can’t save everyone. What you’re doing is helping, though. I see their faces. You’re making a big difference to these kids.”

“It’s not enough.”

The agony in his voice was breaking her heart. She wanted to hold him in her arms forever and take away all his pain. Instead, all she could do was try to comfort him. “I know,” she said, resting her forehead on his and smiling through her own tears, “but it’s all you can do, it’s all any of us can do.”

Although he hadn’t said Rachel’s name, he’d been talking about his sister. Lauren wanted to prod him, get him to open up some more about Rachel, but out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Kaden blocking Vivian’s approach. This wasn’t the time or place for confessions.

For several long minutes, they stayed as they were, arms wrapped around each other, swaying in time to the music. She hoped her presence soothed him as much as his soothed her. Her fingers were idly stroking the hair at his neck, when he jerked his head up. “Everything okay?” she asked, her voice tight with worry.

“Your purse zapped me.”

“Zapped you? Oh, Jason must have sent me a text. I’ll get it later.” Nic dropped his arms and stepped back, leaving her bereft of warmth. Suppressing a shiver, she wiped at the wetness under her eyes. “I should clean up a little before we head back to our table.”

Nic scrubbed a hand along his jaw, his smile wry. “I could probably use a good face dunk myself. If the kids see me like this, they’ll wonder who’s trying to impersonate Nic The Lover.” Chuckling, she took his arm and they headed to the restrooms. After arranging to meet in the passageway, they parted.

On entering the ladies’ room, Lauren was pleased to find she was alone, but someone came in and took the stall next to hers. So much for repairing the damage in private. At the sink, she washed her hands, then leaned over the counter to discover what needed fixing. She laughed at the disarray reflected in the mirror. While Nic’s hands had felt good in her hair, they certainly hadn’t been good
for
her hair. No problem. It was nothing her little comb/brush combo couldn’t take care of. Opening her purse, she saw her phone and remembered to check the message she’d received.

When she saw the number was unknown, a shiver ran through her. Had Nic’s stalker somehow obtained her number? “Calm down, Lauren. It’s probably just spam.” Her voice echoed off the walls of the restroom. Great. Now the woman in the stall would think she was crazy. With a laugh, she navigated to the message and opened it.

Horror freezing her in place, she could do nothing but stare at the photo she’d been sent. A woman lay on the floor, a knife protruding from her chest. Blood splatters covered her body and large pools of red marred the whiteness of the carpet beneath her. Summer wouldn’t be contacting them ever again—Summer was dead.