Love Thy Neighbor (19 page)

From time to time, he went back to his mother’s journal and reread a few entries. While he was away he’d had plenty of time to think about what she’d written on those pages. That missing piece that had made him feel undeserving and unlovable had been found. Not that it was as simplistic as all that. The realization that he’d been loved and wanted after all sank in slowly, day by day, week by week. And each time he reread her entries, that feeling that he was whole after all was only reinforced. The truth about his childhood forced him to reevaluate his life and his decisions.

One thing his mother’s journal and this trip had taught him was that he couldn’t go back to shooting vapid fashion models. Thankfully he’d made his money already; he was in the enviable position now to take on projects that meant something to him. Marco, his rep, wasn’t going to be happy about this. Some of the fashion magazine editors wouldn’t be too thrilled with his decision, either. But then again, none of them had been all that keen about his taking this three-month hiatus to begin with.

For three months Dallas had unplugged himself. He didn’t bother to check a single email the entire time he’d been gone. He turned off his mobile phone and left it in the bottom of his luggage. He still hadn’t bothered to recharge his battery. No Internet surfing, no nothing. Conrad and the others weren’t quite as removed. They were all either married or settled down with a significant other. At night after dinner, and after they’d mapped out the next day’s shots, they excused themselves, trying to get a cell signal to call home or a wifi signal so they could shoot off an email while Dallas sat with his drink thinking of what he’d learned about his mother. And, of course, every night he thought about Nikki Norris.

He retraced the few weeks they’d spent together and was baffled by the connection he felt with her. Such a short period of time, but it was something he’d never forget. As he relived their most intimate moments, he remembered her kiss, the curve of her waist, and the way she arched her back when he caressed her breasts. When he’d turn in for the night, he’d reach for his aching cock, remembering her taste and how it felt when he was inside her, how she would clench down on him as she was coming.
The look of that woman when she was on the edge.
Head back, eyes half closed, mouth open in a cry of passion. He’d never seen anything so beautiful.

He realized that like the glaciers, he had retreated, too. Or at least he’d tried to. She’d been right when she called him a coward. But despite a three-month absence and all the miles he’d put between himself and Nikki, he still couldn’t forget about her. After reading enough journal entries and even before he’d touched down in Auckland, he knew he was in love with her.

Helplessly, completely, and madly in love with Nikki Norris.

He also knew the time had come to finally muster up the courage to tell her exactly how he felt. He was determined to take that leap of faith, open his heart all the way, and free-fall into whatever the future could be with her.

He had no idea what he was coming home to. He had prepared himself for the worst-case scenario. He assumed her engagement was back on. She was probably wearing a big, blinding rock on her finger. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him. He wanted her, and he would go after her full steam ahead.

Chapter Nineteen

Nikki looked out her window at the Seine across the way. Here she was in Paris, the most beautiful, romantic city in the world, and she was all alone. She’d always wanted to come here to study the architecture—Baroque, Neoclassicism, Second Empire—and unexpectedly she’d gotten her chance. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity had come her way and she couldn’t afford to pass it up. But it was fall and the leaves were changing colors, practically before her eyes. It was going to be a long winter, and she wasn’t looking forward to all those cold, lonely nights.

Thank God she had her work to keep her busy.

She grabbed her clipboard and the spare keys and headed into the streets of Paris to her client’s three-bedroom apartment on Rue Pergolese. As amazing as this French apartment was, her favorite was still Dallas’s loft.

She remembered how each time she keyed into his place, she had foolishly hoped that he would be sitting there, waiting for her. She’d missed him more than she could have possibly imagined. The longing hadn’t lessened over time. Instead it had grown more severe, even more intense. She’d gotten so desperate at one point that she’d even worked up the nerve to email him. Her heart raced when she hit send and she had spent the next week torturing herself, compulsively checking her in-box. He never responded, and that was a fresh hurt all over again. She called his cell phone once, too. Heard his voice on his outgoing message and her heart melted. Oh, how she missed his accent, and when she heard the
beep
, she froze. Hung up without saying a word. She’d spent hours on the internet Googling things like
glacier repeat photography
, hoping to find some news about their project, some indication that Dallas was okay and that he was coming home soon.

And in the meantime, to keep herself sane, she kept busy. Jenna had another falling-out with Tyler—this one seemed to be permanent—and so she was back on the single market again, too. It was Jenna who had dragged Nikki out for happy hours and street fairs and the dreaded occasional singles mixer. Every time she heard an English accent, she whipped around, hoping to find Dallas standing there. Each time she’d been crushed. At Jenna’s insistence, Nikki had gone on a handful of dates, but never saw any of the men again after their initial get-together. Perfectly nice men, successful, attractive, even a bit charming, but still, they all paled in comparison to Dallas.

When she couldn’t bring herself to try the online dating site that Jenna was on, she turned to the one salvation she had: her career. She threw herself into her work. She spent hours at the Merchandise Mart walking through the showrooms, taking note of the latest lighting and bathroom fixtures, new flooring and window treatments. She dropped off her business cards and reconnected with designers and introduced herself to new faces on the scene.

It was one of those faces who had introduced her to her new French client, Brigitte Gourdin. She had just purchased a place near Le Marais and planned to gut the whole thing and redesign it from scratch. The two women met for lunch and instantly clicked. Nikki was awarded the project right after that. She had even received a lot of press for having beaten out three top firms for the job. Of course it didn’t hurt having the name Troy Dallas attached to her firm’s first project. Articles had appeared in
Crain’s Chicago Business
, in
Michigan Avenue, Today’s Chicago Woman
and the
Sun-Times
. She still hoped her work would land on the pages of
Architectural Digest
, but the point was that finally, Norris Interiors was on its way.

…

The first thing Dallas did when he got back to Chicago was knock on Nikki’s door. He hadn’t even bothered to stop in his apartment yet. All his luggage was at his feet as he waited in the hallway, listening for the soft footsteps padding across the floor on the other side of the door.

His heart pounded, but it wasn’t from fear. It was sheer excitement. He couldn’t wait another minute to take her in his arms and tell her he was in love with her.

Finally the door swung open, and Dallas found himself face to face with a blonde he’d never seen before.

“Dallas?”

“Who are you?”

“Hi. I’m Jenna.” She held out her hand. “Nikki’s best friend. Is that really you under that beard?”

“Is Nikki here?” His heart was doing double time.

“Sorry. Afraid not. She’s in Paris.”

“Paris?” His stomach did a flip. Shit, he was too late. She was in Paris.
She was on her honeymoon.
His head spun. The room spun, too.

“She’s got a project there. She won’t be back until the end of December. I just stopped by to water her plants and pick up her mail.”

“A project. Did you say a project?”

“She’s gutting an amazing apartment there.”

“So she’s not on her honeymoon?”

Jenna laughed. “Hardly. Matthew’s engaged to marry his very pregnant girlfriend.”

He gasped with relief. “Is Nikki okay about that?”

“Please.” Jenna rolled her eyes. “She’s knows she’s better off without that loser.”

“Is there anyone else?” he asked and held his breath, anticipating the answer.

Jenna shrugged. “I think she’s still kinda hung up on this English guy.”

Dallas grinned. The wheels were already turning inside his head. He couldn’t let Nikki get away from him a second time. He had to do something to get her back in his life for good.

Jenna tilted her head and smiled. “So, what do you think of your place? Pretty spectacular, huh?”

He laughed and gestured toward his luggage. “I haven’t even looked yet. I wanted to see Nikki first.”

Jenna’s smile grew bigger and it sparked an idea. In a split second he knew exactly what he had to do. He had a plan.

“Do me a favor, Jenna. If you speak to Nikki, don’t tell her I stopped by. I want to do something special for her. I want it to be a surprise.”

“I like the sound of that. Mum’s the word.”

He thanked her and keyed into his place. His luggage dropped to the floor along with his jaw. He couldn’t believe his eyes. “Pretty spectacular” was an understatement. Talk about a transformation. It was hard to believe it was the same unit. The rich earth tones had definitely been the right way to go. They warmed up the space and made it welcoming and homey. He was blown away. All he wanted to do in that moment was hold her and kiss her and thank her. And welcome her home, into his home.

With each new room, each new detail he spotted, he was more and more impressed by what she’d done. It only confirmed that his plan was the way to go. He reached for his mobile phone and dialed his friend at
Architectural Digest
.

“Babe, I just had my place redecorated and I want to photograph it for you…” She squealed so loud, he had to hold the phone away from his ear. “So I take it that’s a yes. You’d like to publish them?”

Chapter Twenty

N
EW
Y
EAR’S
E
VE

Nikki was jet-lagged when her cab pulled up to her building. There were still holiday lights up in the neighborhood, and a fresh blanket of snow covering everything. It was festive all right, but she wasn’t feeling it. It had been a long flight from Paris, and even though she was glad to be back in Chicago, she was still melancholy. Partly because it was New Year’s Eve and she had no plans, and partly because that’s what happened every time she thought about Dallas.

And honestly, when
wasn’t
she thinking about him? Dallas—sexy, gorgeous, kissable, lovable Dallas—was never far from her mind. Especially at night when her work for the day was done and life around her grew still and quiet. That was when she longed to be back in his arms, longed for the feel of his kiss, his touch. She’d slip her hands under the covers, inside her panties, and while she worked herself into a frenzy of white heat, she’d think of him, only him.

As she entered her apartment she was so lost in her daydream of Dallas that she almost didn’t notice the copy of
Architectural Digest
that someone had slipped under her door. It wasn’t until she practically tripped over it that she bent down and picked it up. There was a Post-it note on the cover that said, “Turn to page 75.” She wondered if Jenna had dropped that off, though it didn’t look like her handwriting.

She set her purse on the table and went over to the couch, leafing through the glossy pages until a headline stopped her cold:
F
AMED
F
ASHION
P
HOTOGRAPHER
H
AS
D
ESIGNS ON
U
P-AND-
C
OMING
D
ESIGNER.

Could this be what I think it is?
Her heart pounded up in her ears. She blinked as if she couldn’t believe her eyes, but yes, there were photographs of Dallas’s loft, one spread after another in the pages of
Architectural Digest
. She was speechless. But what truly took her breath away was the article:

Famed fashion photographer and frequent contributor to Architectural Digest Troy Dallas was a confirmed bachelor until he met up-and-coming interior designer Nikki Norris, principal of the new Chicago-based firm Norris Interiors. Not since George Clooney was snatched up has news of a bachelor coming off the market been met with such disappointment from women everywhere. But now Troy Dallas confesses in an exclusive to AD that he’s head over heels in love with Norris and plans to make her a permanent fixture in the home that she recently redecorated for him…

All the print blurred together. She couldn’t read any more through the tears. Her stomach began to flutter as adrenaline raced through her body.

She looked at her watch. It was almost midnight. Almost New Year’s. She was too afraid to hope he’d be home, but she still had a key to his apartment. She had to see him. She’d wait up all night for him if she had to.

She grabbed the keys and as she opened her front door, she froze in place. There he was. In the hallway. Handsome and sexy as ever.

“Dallas?” She could barely get his name out. Her voice trembled almost as much as her legs. Her stomach had turned to a swarm of butterflies.

“I thought I heard someone moving around over here. I was hoping it was you.” He smiled and his eyes came alive, crinkling up at the outer corners. “Welcome home.”

God, it was thrilling to hear his voice again.

“Did you see the article?”

All she could do was nod. There were no words.