Authors: Janet Nissenson
Shattered: (9 page)
“Yes.” Her cheeks flushed at his continued regard. “I was chosen for the national team at last summer’s games. We, um, won.”
“The gold?” He was incredulous at her nod. “Jesus, I’m sitting across the dinner table from an Olympic gold medalist? That’s just – wow.”
She laughed a little, pleased beyond belief at his tone of near reverence. “Come on, look who’s talking. I’m sure between college and the pros you’ve racked up a ton of MVP, All-Pro, and Hall of Fame honors. Plus a Super Bowl ring. Nobody gives a rat’s ass about Olympic volleyball or probably even remembers who won the gold medal last year.”
Nick shook his head. “But I never won an Olympic medal, hell, never even had an opportunity to participate in the Olympics. And that’s probably every athlete’s dream, you know? Your family must be incredibly proud of you. Do your parents have some sort of shrine erected to you in their house?”
Her smile faded abruptly as she reached for her wine glass. “No. They – it’s not like that with them. They don’t – let’s just say that I’ve got all my trophies and medals stored at my place. What about you?”
Nick apparently got the message that the subject of her parents was a sore one, and tactfully didn’t press the issue further. “The same. All of my awards and other sports memorabilia are displayed in a room in my house. But that’s largely because both of my parents tend to move around a lot. Separately, of course. They divorced when I was still a kid.”
Before she could quiz him further, he changed the subject, but Angela sensed that he – like herself – hadn’t had the happiest of childhoods. It was one more thing they seemed to have in common.
Nick refilled his wine glass but set the bottle aside without offering any to her. When she looked from him to her empty glass quizzically, he shook his head.
“No more booze for you tonight, Angel. You’ve had more than enough. And the very last thing I’d allow you to do tonight is get drunk.”
She stared at him like he’d just sprouted horns, turning into the devil he’d jokingly compared himself to. “You’re kidding, right? I mean, you’ve had just as much to drink as I’ve had.”
He sipped the fine Cabernet with slow deliberation, his coffee colored eyes narrowing dangerously. “I rarely joke, Angel, and definitely not about something like this. You’ve had enough booze and that’s that. As for me, I’m estimating I’ve got a good seven inches and maybe as much as seventy, eighty pounds on you. My tolerance for alcohol is a lot higher than yours.”
She thought briefly about protesting again, or telling him about the drinking contests she and Lauren had often engaged in, but then thought better of the idea. She could sense he wasn’t prepared to negotiate on the matter, and she absolutely didn’t want to risk pissing him off. At least not until he’d fulfilled every one of the sexual promises she could see glittering in his eyes.
‘Besides,’ she consoled herself, ‘he’s probably right. I’ve had quite a bit to drink already, and I want to make sure I remember every single second of this night.’
Because she had a niggling fear that this was destined to be a one and done kind of affair. Nick might have already broken one of his rules by going out with a co-worker, but it was highly unlikely he’d break a second by seeing her again after tonight. So she really ought to make the best of it – enjoying this fabulous dinner at one of the best restaurants in town, and then have as much wild, raunchy sex with the impossibly gorgeous man seated across from her as she could handle. She wondered dizzily how many times a barbarian of a man like Nick would be capable of getting it up in one night, how long it would take in between, just how huge –
“Eat your dessert. You could stand to put on a little weight, you know. I like it – a lot – that you keep things nice and toned, but five to ten more pounds would look really good on you.”
Once again, Angela opened her mouth to protest, but Nick merely used that opportunity to shove a huge forkful of Meyer lemon tart in her mouth. He was grinning at her wickedly, her mouth now too full to offer up any sort of protest.
“I’ll have to remember that little trick when it looks like you’re getting ready to sass me,” he chuckled. “Just stick some food in your mouth.”
She glared at him while frantically chewing her food, then washed it down with a few sips of coffee. “Maybe not such a big bite next time, okay?” she croaked. “I almost choked.”
“Sorry.” He offered up a falsely apologetic smile before turning his attention to his own plate.
Angela toyed with the rest of her dessert until Nick placed a hand over hers, stilling her motions.
“Don’t pick at your food,” he told her firmly. “Eat it. Please.”
It was that last, rather unexpected word that did the trick, and she somewhat reluctantly managed to eat at least half the tart. She tried to take another bite but shuddered instead, pushing the plate away.
“I can’t,” she confessed. “I don’t usually – what I ate tonight is way more than I normally do at one sitting.”
“Okay,” he assured her. “After all, not only don’t I want you drunk tonight, I sure as hell don’t want you getting sick, either.”
He beckoned their server over, handing over his credit card – an AMEX black card she noted, not surprised that he’d be one of the select group who’d been issued one. Nick didn’t even glance at the total when the bill was presented, merely writing in a tip and signing his name with a bold flourish.
He stood then, and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go. The night isn’t getting any younger, and I hate wasting even a minute of my day. Especially,” he murmured as he pulled her close against his side, “when I could be putting those minutes to a much more pleasurable use.”
She knew he felt the shiver that trembled through her body because he smiled down at her knowingly, looking very much like the devil he’d likened himself to back at the meeting. She knew that this was it – the point of no return at it was – and that if she was having even the slightest doubt about going with him she’d have to speak up now. Otherwise, he would take everything she had to give him – body, mind, and soul – and she knew that nothing would ever be the same for her again.
Nick seemed to sense her uncertainty as they waited for the valet to bring his car around, and gave the nape of her neck a sensuous little massage.
“Are you sure about this, Angel?” he asked, tipping her head back as his dark eyes bored into hers. “All of a sudden you seem a little nervous.”
She bit her bottom lip, belatedly aware that once again she hadn’t taken a moment to duck into the ladies room to freshen up her lipstick and hair. “Maybe a little,” she admitted. “It’s – I’m not all that experienced, and I guess I’m sort of afraid that -”
“What? That I’ll be disappointed because you haven’t fucked a dozen other guys before me?” Nick shook his head. “Or that in spite of some porn you watched back in high school you don’t know a lot of different naughty little tricks?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. I’m not exactly sure what I’m afraid of. The others – four, if we’re keeping exact count – they were all boys. College guys. I’ve never – you’re so much more –
everything
than they’ll ever hope to be. And I guess what I’m really afraid of is that I can’t handle you.”
everything
than they’ll ever hope to be. And I guess what I’m really afraid of is that I can’t handle you.”
“Ah, so that’s it.” He nodded in understanding. “Come here, Angel.”
She went into his outstretched arms willingly, leaning her head gratefully against his shoulder as he held her gently. She breathed in the scintillating smell that was a blend of his discreet cologne, the crispness of his white dress shirt, and the overpoweringly masculine scent that clung to his skin, the scent that was simply Nick.
Nick stroked her hair with long, soothing motions. “Look, if I’d thought for one minute that you’d screwed your way through college, I doubt I’d have been attracted to you. I like a woman who’s confident and cool but not to the point where she’s overly aggressive or feels she has to impress me with how hot she is in the sack. If you haven’t already figured it out, I like things done my way, according to my rules, and that definitely includes sex. So relax, Angel, and just follow my lead, hmm? Ah, here’s my car.”
His car was a fire engine red Ferrari, an ultra-luxe vehicle that she knew had likely cost several hundred thousand dollars. As he held the door open and she slid inside, she couldn’t help but think of her own tiny, well-used Ford Fiesta – the one she’d bought off her brother-in-law Joe back in high school. She doubted Nick’s six foot six bulk would even be able to squeeze inside the sub-compact.
“What’s your address?”
Nick had slid behind the wheel and was powering up the car’s sophisticated, built-in GPS system. A bit hesitantly, she recited her address – a quiet little residential street on the outskirts of Noe Valley. The tiny studio apartment had been all she could afford on her trainee’s salary, and she’d been lucky that her other brother-in-law –Marco – was closely related to the owner of the building and had been able to snag her a modest discount on the rent. It had surprised Angela that her sister Deanna would have even bothered to help her out to that degree, but then she’d realized how relieved her family probably was that she was finally living on her own way up in San Francisco, and officially out of their hair.
“You don’t have a roommate, do you?”
Nick’s sudden question startled her, as lost in thought as she’d been, but she shook her head in reply. “No, it’s just me. The place is sort of a shoebox, I’m afraid. You might have to duck your head to get through the doorway.”
He frowned. “You do have a bed at least? And I don’t mean a frigging sofa bed or a futon.”
Angela grinned at the hint of irritation she heard in his voice. “Yes. It’s a real, honest to goodness bed. It’s even king sized. Takes up almost half the floor space but it’s worth it.”
“Good.” The gaze he sent her way was positively smoldering, and she was left speechless by what he said next. “Because if the answer had been no, we’d be heading to the closest hotel right about now. The way I intend to fuck you tonight Angel – well, let’s just say that bed of yours had better be up for the task.”
She’d been prudent to warn him about ducking his head upon entering her tiny studio apartment, for he definitely wouldn’t have cleared the doorway otherwise. Angela intentionally didn’t look at him once he shut the door and began to inspect the small space, likely with the same eagle-eyed attention to detail that he’d looked her over with earlier this evening. She didn’t particularly want to see the expression on his face when he took in just how small the room was, noticed how sparsely furnished it was, and that except for the bed – which she’d insisted on buying new – the other few pieces of furniture were well-used hand-me-downs culled from a variety of family members.
But when her curiosity couldn’t be contained any longer, she glanced over at Nick as he continued his slow, careful inspection of her place. He stopped and gave a very thorough look at the one quality piece of artwork she owned – the seascape somewhat small in size but beautifully framed and exquisitely painted.
“Is this really a Benoit?” he asked incredulously. “I’m not sure I could even begin to estimate how much it’s worth if it’s the real thing.”
“It is the real thing,” she assured him. “And I’ve got a pretty good idea of what it would sell for. But that was given to me as a gift – by the artist herself – and I’d never consider selling it.”
Nick blinked in surprise. “How do you know an artist like Natalie Benoit?”
Angela smiled softly at the mention of the woman who’d treated her like a daughter for so many years. “Natalie is the mother of my two best friends. We all grew up together in Carmel, and I’ve known Lauren and Julia since we were in the fourth grade. I’ve probably spent more time at their house than I have at my own.”
He regarded her quizzically. “That’s the second time this evening you’ve made some reference to not spending much time at home. Were things that bad for you there?”
She shook her head in amazement at his brazen question. “Wow, you really do shoot from the hip, don’t you? And subtlety is definitely not one of your better traits in case you weren’t aware.”
Nick grinned. “Oh, I’m very well aware. I told you back at the restaurant that I’m ballsy. Trust me, Angel, there’s no topic that I won’t dare to ask you about. And you’ll always give me the answers I want, too.”
Angela frowned. “Is that part of this so-called submission you mentioned?”
“Yes.” He answered without the slightest hesitation. “Honesty always.”
She lifted her chin stubbornly. “Does that go both ways? If I ask you a question, will you always answer it honestly?”
Nick’s gaze narrowed dangerously. “Angel, it’s way too soon for us to start talking about – ah, let’s call them conditions for now. When and if I think you’re ready, we’ll have ourselves a nice long chat. Until then, show me that gold medal of yours.”
She thought about pressing the issue further, asking him what these so-called “conditions” might be, but decided not to push her luck. Instead, she merely indicated the rather dilapidated bookcase that she’d pressed into service as her trophy case.
Nick glanced over the various trophies, plaques, medals, ribbons, and framed certificates that she’d earned over the years, in half a dozen different sports, but it was the Olympic medal that he honed in on.
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