Resisting Nick (Wicked in Wellington) (12 page)

She slipped out of bed and retrieved the two framed photos she’d set there the evening before, then curled up against him again, running a finger across the first shot.

“Grandpa, Grandma, Mom and Dad, Ray and me. It must have been right before Ray left and went to New York, so I would have been about ten.”

Nick peered down at the photo and shook his head. “No clues there. They’re your Mom’s parents, are they? What about your Dad’s?”

“Back in England. He came down here to New Zealand, met and married Mom, and didn’t go home. They never forgave him, and never visited us. I want to contact them while I’m traveling—see if I can patch things up.”

She showed him the other. “Taken at Grandma’s funeral,” she said, voice trembling slightly. “Grandpa and his twin brother... Grandma’s sister Jessie and her husband...Silvia the housekeeping lady, and me.”
 

She swallowed and made herself say it. “Mom and Dad weren’t around by then. I was sixteen.”

“Funky hat,” he said, smiling at the squashy dark violet cloche with its upturned brim at the front.

“Great-aunt Jessie decided we should all look dignified for Grandma. She had this grim black one,” Sammie said, pointing. “Silvia sewed some black ribbon around that sunhat and hid behind her dark glasses as usual, crying the whole time. I probably shocked them in purple, but I wanted something brighter than what Gran made me wear to Mom and Dad’s memorial service. That was awful.”

He stared at the photo and then put it down. “I’m no further ahead.”

“What have your parents said?”

He compressed his lips and looked away. “Haven’t asked them. Can’t stand the thought of talking to them yet. They’re not back in town until tomorrow anyway.”

“Maybe you’re your mother’s son, but not your father’s?”

Nick shook his head. “She wouldn’t have had to adopt me. And the birth certificate shows them both as my apparently natural parents.”

“You’ll have to talk to them sooner or later.”

“Later’s good.”

“But Nick, where else can you start? What did the doctor say?”

“Not much. Insisted I talked to Brian and Gaynor. Brian Joseph and Gaynor Antonia, by the way. Second names Joseph and Antonia – and my brothers are Joe and Tony. They named my so-called brothers after themselves because they’re their natural children. I didn’t get a mention.”

She heard the palpable hurt in his voice and couldn’t blame him. “So how did the doctor know?”

Nick expelled a huge noisy breath.

“I’m not certain what he said after the first few words. All I could hear was ‘adopted, adopted, adopted.’ I kind of blanked out with it I think.”

“Maybe she told him they’d adopted you so he wouldn’t get suspicious. In case of funny blood-types and so on. Doctors don’t get to see birth certificates, do they?”

“No idea.”
 

Sammie sighed. “I think you should ask him now you’ve absorbed the shock.”

“Yeah, maybe...”

“But your parents are still your best bet.”

He tightened his arm around her. “Persistent, aren’t you?” He set his empty glass down on the bedside chest and reached for hers.

“Not finished,” she said, taking another swig.

He reached out for the second condom packet and dangled it in front of her. It flashed and sparkled in the dim light. “Nor am I.”

“No way,” she said, hoping it sounded firm.

He took her free hand and pulled it under the covers.

“No way,” she repeated.

Slowly over his abs.
 

God he’s warm. And taut.
 

Down to something else warm. And taut. And long and hard. How could she resist?

“No,” she tried again, but she could feel the smile sneaking over her face.

“Knew you’d see it my way.” Nick folded her hand around his cock and sent her a grin of arrogant male satisfaction.

Sammie sighed deeply, up-ended her glass, and swallowed the last of her wine.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“
That’s
how we work together and still have sex,” Nick said, letting a luxurious stretch work right through his body and then pulling Sammie in close again.
 

“That’s not working together,” she objected sleepily. “That’s just having sex.”

“Weren’t you working? To make it good for me?”

“Oh, that,” she murmured. “Yes I was working to make it good for you, but that’s not what I meant, and you know it, you arrogant jerk.”
 

He felt her nestle closer against him and slide a hand around his waist.
 

Watched as she tried to keep a serious expression on her pretty face and failed.

“I worked hard to make it good for you,” he teased.

She laughed softly. “I noticed.”

“And was it?”

“You know it was. Especially the ‘hard’ bit. The neighbors are going to wonder who’s moved in next door. An axe murderer and his victim...” She elbowed him in the ribs. “Didn’t think of that when you were winding me up, did you?”

“I’ll have to gag you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered. “Handcuff me too while you’re about it.”

Nick’s cock gave a lazy, rolling lurch at the thought. “You’d let me?”

“Only to my desk.”

“Hmmm—on the job together and sex together. See, we can make it work, Sammie.”

“Nick,” she muttered grumpily, “I don’t
want
to make it work. I’ve signed up for a month’s assignment until my passport comes through, and then I’m off outta little old New Zealand.” She twisted so she could look up and fix him with a sterner gaze. “I’ve spent twenty-six years here, and I want to see what else is out in the big wide world. Mom and Dad infected me with the travel bug. They had pictures of dozens of different countries pinned up on the walls at home. Were always planning trips they might take. I thought they had the ideal way to live. But then they died and I got stuck with Grandpa.”

Nick winced at her turn of phrase. He’d thought her fond of the old man. “What happened with him?”

Sammie sighed. “He had a stroke, poor darling. Quite a bad one.”

He relaxed again. Not as hard-hearted as she’d sounded, then.

“The hospital rehab people were wonderful—they got him pretty mobile and managed to get some of his speech back, but you couldn’t say he ever got properly well. He used to go to a daycare place sometimes, and he managed okay on his own when he had to. But I didn’t dare leave him overnight.”

“For six years? That must have cramped your style. With boyfriends, I mean.”

“I know what you mean.” She shot him a mischievous grin. “No Nick, it’s amazing what you can do between seven-thirty and midnight if you really want to.”

A tug of annoyance spoiled his warm teasing moment.

“Anyone special?” he asked, trying to keep the edge out of his voice.

“None of your business. I wouldn’t ask you. You’d have too big a selection to choose from anyway. Do you ever hit on the clients at the fitness center? Nice toned bodies in stretchy little leotards? Hmm?”

“No,” he snapped, grimacing with real annoyance now. “They hit on me.”

“Ooooh, Nicky, poor old you...” She gave his shoulder a playful nip.

“Cut it out! Yes they do, if you must know. It used to be flattering, but these days I like to choose my own partners.”

Sammie tsk-tsked. “So I’m just another woman dragging you into bed against your will. Bad luck Nicky.”

Not that much against my will.

He turned his head and listened. What the fuck? His mobile—after midnight. What was wrong?

“Sorry.” He slid away from her and found his jeans. Rummaged until he extracted the phone and opened it, then stared at the screen and read the text aloud.

“BABY ON WAY. T.”

“Tyler?”

“Know anyone else expecting this week?”

Sammie grimaced, thinking of Tyler’s hard work ahead. “Good luck, girlfriend,” she murmured.

Without Tyler, and without Nick all morning, Sammie found herself rushed off her feet. Many people seemed to have nothing better to do than phone with queries because the weather kept them inside.
 

Unfamiliar with the time-sheets, it took her ages to attend to the payroll. To her annoyance, she had to resort to asking Rich for some explanation and guidance. She found names of staff she’d not met yet—people who worked early or late shifts to cover BodyWork’s long opening hours. Nick was apparently a flexible and accommodating boss.

“Get a life!” she snapped at the switchboard as it demanded her attention yet again.
 

“Sammie?” asked Cam, Tyler’s as-yet-unseen husband. “It’s a girl! As beautiful as her mother. Both great. Which is more than you can say for me. What a performance—we’ll never have another.”

“Not this week, but you wait a while,” Sammie said, thinking of friends who’d declared the same. She sent her love and congratulations and asked when she could visit. Then she quickly composed an announcement for the notice boards in the locker rooms and the staff room, adding some pink clip-art balloons and a stork carrying a baby. She printed off several copies and pinned them up, then dashed out to collect the day’s mail and buy a card for everyone to sign.

“Anything interesting?” Nick asked as she arrived back upstairs slightly out of breath and damp with rain. She’d twisted her long hair up to keep it dry.

“Where have you been?” she demanded, too surprised to be embarrassed. Then she remembered what they’d done the night before and a blush rushed up her neck and over her face.

“Adoption Services,” he muttered. He glanced around to ensure he couldn’t be overheard. “I went online this morning to see what else I could find out. By law, you have the right to information about your adoption once you turn twenty. They weren’t too pleased when I turned up without an appointment, but this is something I really want an answer to.”

Sammie nodded, understanding his impatience, and imagining all too clearly his insistent manner with any unfortunate official he’d tried to get information from. He hadn’t shaved. He was literally bristling—with indignation and stubble.

“But because I have an apparently valid birth certificate they can’t help. So we’re back to Gaynor and Brian. Like they’re going to be keen to tell me!” His eyes glittered with determination.

Sammie handed him the day’s mail, hopeful it might distract him. “Will you open this or do you want me to?”

He flipped through the envelopes, took a couple, and handed the rest back before striding along to his office.

She felt almost relieved. No attempt to touch her, no secret kisses, no special smile. It was as though their sexy night had never happened.

After processing a couple of Visa payments, she wrote a congratulatory message to the new parents, and poked her head around Nick’s door so he could be first to sign. “Sorry, should have told you. Tyler had a daughter. I’ve bought a card.” She waved it at him.
 

“Flowers?” he suggested. “Charge them to BodyWork. The details will be in the desk somewhere.”

Yes, Sammie had seen the page, carefully filed in the information folder. Tyler had intimated Nick bought a lot of flowers. No doubt for a lot of different women.
 

“She likes yellow roses,” he added, surprising her. “And get the flower shop to put some sort of baby thing with it. A teddy bear, a fairy doll...something?” He reached for the card, read her message, nodded, and scrawled a big black ‘Nick’ below it.

The reception bell dinged and Sammie hurried away. Anita stood there, dabbing at her nose with a tissue, and peering through the long glass wall at the array of machines and people using them. She looked like a fish out of water, shifting from foot to foot, and dressed in an obviously new cream tracksuit and gleaming white trainers. Sammie grinned at the unexpected sight. “Come for lunch?”
 

Anita swung around, plainly pleased to see a familiar face. “Darling—just the opposite. I’d like to get trim enough to wear that lovely suit I loaned you. I thought this might be the right place. Although...” She looked anxiously at one of the serious body-builders bench-pressing about as much as a small car.

“No,” Sammie assured her. “That won’t be you. You could maybe enroll for a Pilates class to get supple to start with. Shall I see if any of our personal trainers are free?”

“A personal trainer?” Anita murmured, looking impressed.

“Take a seat for a moment.” Sammie motioned her toward the sofa, remembering she’d seen Heidi heading to the staff room. Anita would be a client well worth having.

As she whipped past Nick’s office he called, “Got a minute, Sam?”

She backtracked a couple of steps and poked her head through his doorway. “I’m looking for Heidi—or anyone else who can talk to a possible new client. She has money. I don’t want to keep her waiting.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Go. We can do this later.”

She wondered about ‘this’ as she hurried on down the corridor, apologized to Heidi as she interrupted her early lunch, and led her back to introduce to Anita. The phones immediately claimed her attention again, and she’d started jotting down a message to give to Jarrod when two big hands descended on her from behind. She stilled, and strong thumbs slid up and down her exposed neck and dug into the tense muscles of her shoulders. Nick’s distinctive scent floated on the air, teasing her senses and reminding her of the deep dark pleasure he’d spun for her the evening before.

“Don’t,” she begged, relieved Anita and Heidi had moved on. “This is exactly what I don’t want happening. People will notice and talk.”
 

“No-one’s looking.” His thumbs continued their heavenly massage through her cream voile top. “Have lunch with me.”

“Why?” she asked, exasperated.

“Because we need to eat. Because it’s almost time for a break. Because I want to talk some more.” His hands deserted her shoulders as female voices drew nearer.

“Why me?” She dragged in a determined breath. “I’m not the one you should be talking to. Ask your parents.”

 
“I’m working around to that. Need to be sure of my ground first.” He looked up as Anita and Heidi approached the desk again. “Have lunch with me,” he murmured.