Silent Hearts (Hamilton Stables 3) (12 page)

Without her awareness to keep him in check, he took her in. Her full breasts, spilling out of the swimsuit top, the dip and curve of her waist, her flat, toned stomach, her wide hips and long, long legs. Suddenly, Nick regretted ever making fun of her for buying that infomercial twenty-five-minute workout set, because while he knew Becca was beautiful, he never knew what she hid under those T-shirts and tank tops she wore.

With the quickness of a man in need, he shoved the rest of the groceries into the fridge and jogged back to his room, eager to change and get out there, though hell if he’d know what to do once he got there.

He planned to take this slow, to get to know her in this new way, but already he wanted to take her to his bed, forget all the complications and show her over and over again the way she deserved to be treated. Worship her body until she forgot every man before him.

But that was his stupid side talking—all right, his horny side. Slow was better, even if it killed him.

He splashed several rounds of cold water on his face, tugged off his clothes, and put on his swim trunks, giving himself a pep talk throughout the change that he would be good—slow and good.

Damn, even that sounded sexy as hell to his ears now.

He was going to die before this night was over.

Grabbing two bottles of water and a couple of beers, he opened the French doors off his kitchen and padded out onto the patio and to the pool. Becca hadn’t noticed him yet, so he snuck up and pressed one of the bottles of water to her exposed neck. Immediately, she squealed and spun around, causing her breasts to jump in that tiny top, Nick’s gaze to drop, and his restraint to flounder.

“Easily startled, as always.”

Becca opened her mouth to pop off at him, but her eyes went to his chest and down his abs, and he grinned a little at the realization that she was as affected by him as he was her. He said a silent thank you that he’d spent the last few years in the gym every day, working off all the thoughts and emotions he couldn’t speak. It was a lonely endeavor, but he was in good shape because of it.

“Should we get started?” she asked, swallowing hard and eyeing him.

“Depends what you want to get started.” Nick took a step toward her, his eyes dropping to her bikini. “I gotta say, at this point, with you in that, I’d do pretty much anything you wanted.”

Her cheeks reddened and she drew a breath. “I know, it’s too small, but I didn’t know that when I brought it. Seems I haven’t worn a bikini in a while.” She adjusted the top and her breasts bobbed again.

Nick swallowed hard. “Let’s get in the water before I get myself in trouble.”

They walked over to the steps, each careful not to touch the other, the whole thing ridiculous, but at this point they were in survival mode.

The water was warm thanks to the heater, but it was doing little to cool off his raging hormones.

“Okay, so put on the mask and make sure it’s tight,” he said, refusing to look at her. He needed a minute to settle down or all ideas of slow were going to fly away—along with their swimsuits.

“Is this good?”

He turned around to face her, the giant mask covering her face, a smile bigger than all of Triple Run just below it, and that was it. “I have to kiss you. Just once.” He moved in before she could say anything, quickly kissed her lips, and groaned as he pulled away. “All right, twice.”

Their lips met for a second time, and with a slow, long moan of her own, telling him that she wasn’t eager to remain on the good side if he couldn’t hold back. Just as he started to deepen the kiss, she jerked the mask off and tossed it in the water. And then there was nothing between them, nothing to keep this from going too far.

“Bec . . .”

“Kiss me.”

His hands wrapped around her again, securing her to him, as his mouth found hers and his tongue slid over her lips, then inside her mouth, flicking over the mint on her tongue, and then his hands were on her back, reaching down to grab her ass and pull her to him.

All control flew up into the night sky, the stars their only cover, and he moved from her lips to her neck to her collarbone, tasting and licking, each sound driving him insane.

She tilted her head back, her breasts pushing up, and then his head dipped down, his tongue gliding over the swell of her breasts, her sounds destroying him more and more with each touch. He pushed aside one triangle and her full breast popped out, her soft pink nipple calling to him, and suddenly he was there—gone. All restraint absolutely gone.

He pressed his mouth to her nipple, sucking it into his mouth, and the moan she released was enough to make him want her right there, sure he wouldn’t make it out of the pool without claiming her as his. He wrapped her legs around his waist and moved to the edge of the pool, her body pressed against the wall, as he took his time sucking and tasting, his hand freeing her other breast so they were both exposed, ready for him to pleasure and enjoy. Good God, she was beautiful.

And all his.

The thought warmed him in ways the rest never could. This beautiful, amazing woman was his. And he had no intention of letting her go. Fear be damned, and now it was time he gave her what she needed.

He glided a hand over her hip, inside her thigh, and then he pushed aside her bikini bottoms and stroked her heat. She bucked against him, eager and ready, and he slipped a finger inside her, then a second, driving her closer and closer to her release.

“Nick, God. I . . .” His kissed her hard, pushing every bit of the emotion he felt into that moment until finally he felt her body quivering as she reached her climax. He brought her back down slowly and she fell slack against him, her breathing heavy. “That was ... I don’t even know what to say.”

He kissed her temple. “That was just the beginning.” She reached down to his swim trunks and he took her hand, stopping her. “Not today. This was just about you.”

“Nick . . .”

“I know what you’re going to say, but no one takes care of you. Let me take care of you.” He kissed her lips sweetly. “But I think our lesson might be over for today,” he said with a grin. “There’s some warm towels in the bin beside the fire pit. Go get changed and I’ll make dinner.”

Becca started away, then turned back, a wide grin on her face. “If that was our first lesson, what do you have in store for lesson two?”

“Prepare yourself, Becca Stark; you’re about to meet a new Nick Hamilton.” He winked at her, and she laughed before disappearing into the house, leaving Nick in the pool to settle down, happy for the first time in a long, long time.

“A
ll right, today let’s talk about how easy it is to go on a check-Aout dive.”

It was Saturday already, and Zac stood outside the pool, the class all inside, half of them, including Becca, shaking like crazy. The temperature of the pool was much colder than it had been during their last session. Or maybe they were just that terrified.

“To illustrate this point, I have a few assistants here to help me today. Come on out, guys.”

The set of heavy double doors opened loudly, the sound echoing through the gym. All attention went to the left, and Becca grinned as Charlie and Brady came out, their arms draped around a little girl. The girl was all long blond hair and freckles and adorable smile, and Becca wondered how they knew her, when the guys reached Zac and he bent down to give the girl a hug that lasted a beat too long.

“Dad,” the girl whined. “I’m an instructor today.”

The Littletons all laughed, but Becca’s mind stopped at
dad
. Did she say Dad?

Becca compared the two, her gaze flicking back and forth, scrutinizing. The similarities weren’t overly obvious, but they were there—her eyes, perhaps. Or maybe it was the smile that never left her face, so much like her father’s. So when Zac said, “Everyone, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Carrie-Anne,” Becca wasn’t shocked as much as curious.

She’d seen the guys around the diner several times, but never once had Carrie-Anne been with them. Now, in Zac’s defense, they usually stopped by during school hours, so maybe that was part of it. But Becca felt there was more to the story.

“Carrie-Anne, can you tell the class how old you are?”

“Thirteen,” she said, grinning. She wore a pink wet suit and a pink mask rested on the top of her head, the snorkel dangling.

“And how long have you been certified to dive?”

“Since I was eight.”

A hush fell over the class as they all stared at the little girl like she was one of those insanely talented kids who became doctors at five or whatever.

“It’s scary at first, but the more you go, the better it gets. And it’s so cool. You’ll see so many things.”

Zac patted her head affectionately, and she shot him an I’m-not-a-baby warning. But instead of him giving her a harder time like some fathers might—like Nick would if he were Carrie-Anne’s father—he stepped back and allowed Brady and Charlie to help her into her weight belt, BCD, air tank, and fins. She slid her mask and snorkel into place, and Zac double-checked its fit. “Ready?” Zac asked.

“Ready,” she said with a giant smile, and then she jumped into the water, and for a moment, Becca fought the urge to go after her. Surely a girl that small shouldn’t stay down for so long, air tank or not. But then she realized she wasn’t coming back up. She had air; she had everything she needed.

Charlie and Brady followed suit and Becca found herself relaxing for the first time since Nick had called to tell her he couldn’t make it to the session. His voice had been tense as he explained that a random meeting had popped up that he couldn’t miss, and she of course said it was fine. But inside, she wanted to scream,
no, come with me, keep me protected.

But as she took in the thirteen-year-old swimming underwater like a fish, she realized it was stupid to be so afraid of diving. Zac’s point was clear—if little Carrie-Anne could do it, anyone could.

With renewed purpose, Becca went through all the techniques Zac had taught her. Then Zac himself approached, and she lost her nerve under his scrutiny.

“Missing your partner?”

“Yeah, he had a meeting this afternoon, and he’s already certified, so.” She shrugged. Then, desperate to change the subject, she added, “Your daughter seems so sweet. And brave.”

Zac glanced at the water, where Carrie-Anne was working with Brady and Charlie to help some of the others in the class. “Yeah, about that ... I’m sure you’re wondering why I didn’t tell you.”

“It crossed my mind,” Becca said with a grin. “But it’s not my business, and in a town full of gossips, I try not to pry.”

“It’s not prying. Carrie-Anne is the most important thing in the world to me, but her mother left when she was little, and it hurt her badly. So I try to limit interaction between her and women I’m dating, or trying to date. Not so successfully in your case.” He laughed, but his voice was tinged with disappointment.

Becca cringed, wishing she’d never hinted at more with Zac. Her heart belonged to Nick, and no one else ever would have worked for her. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“It’s my own fault. I called it the moment I met you. You just hadn’t realized yet what the rest of us knew from the beginning—Nick worships you.”

“Oh, no. He’s . . . well, I don’t know. We’ve known each other a long time.”

“He’s lucky.”

Becca glanced over at Carrie-Anne. “So is she. And I think it’s wonderful that you try to protect her. That’s what I would do if I were in your shoes.”

“Really? I’m glad to hear it. It can make dating a challenge, but she’s my priority. I want her life to be as stable as possible, ya know?”

“I think it sounds like you’re an amazing father. And dive instructor, apparently. She’s back under.” Becca laughed until she realized Zac wasn’t.

“Which brings us to why we’re here. It’s time you go under now, too. I know you’re afraid. I can see it all over your face, but I’m right here. Brady and Charlie are here to help, too. And all of us have been through CPR certification. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

Becca chewed on her bottom lip. “What if there are sharks?”

A smile pulled at Zac’s lips, and Becca thought he was so adorable. She hoped he would find a match for him and Carrie-Anne soon. He deserved happiness. “I know Brady’s a little aggressive, but a shark? That’s giving him a little too much credit.”

Now Becca was laughing hard, relaxing more with each second. Until she thought of the sharks again. “You know what I mean. What if we run into sharks during the checkout dive? I think I’m afraid to complete this last session because it means I have to go out in open water to finish my certification. And I’m scared. Like insanely, might-melt-down scared. Are you sure you want that kind of liability on your hands?”

“Okay, truth time. Have I swum with sharks? Sure. But you have to remember, you’re bigger than most of the sharks you’ll see, and the rule in the ocean is that nothing bothers anything bigger than it. But even the big sharks want nothing to do with you. They may swim by, but they’ll ignore you and keep on trucking. The only time I’ve run into anything with sharks was when I was spearfishing and a shark snagged a fish from my net. But otherwise? Nothing.”

“And piranhas?”

“Have teeth, yes. But again, nothing for you to worry about.”

“And if my air dies out?”

“That doesn’t happen.”

“All right, a hose bursts?”

“That’s why you always dive with a buddy, but even then, that’s rare, and we’ll all be down there with you.”

Becca glanced over the pool; everyone in the class was practicing underwater. Everyone except her. Was she really going to be shown up by the elderly man in the class? By little Carrie-Anne?

No.

“I’ll go down with you. I’ll be right there. And then Nick will be there on the checkout dive, right?”

Becca nodded.

“Okay, then. You’re safe. I promise you that you’re safe.”

With one more swift nod, Becca slipped on her mask, which she’d pushed onto the top of her head, and nodded again to Zac.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”
No.

Zac released the air in his BCD and began to sink. Becca did the same, her heart hammering like crazy in her chest, but she ignored it. This wasn’t going to beat her. Not this. Not going back to college.

She could do anything she wanted to do, age be damned, fear be damned.

Finally, she sank below the surface, and Zac gave her an okay gesture and she offered it back, and then she was swimming. Underwater. Breathing. Underwater. The whole thing felt so surreal that before she thought better of it, she sped up, her breathing labored, and she realized she was using too much of her air supply. Slowing down, she took her time exploring the props Zac had placed in the bottom of the pool, checking her air constantly along the way. And then, too quickly, Zac swam over and gave her the thumbs-up that it was time to go back up.

She broke the surface and squealed, excitement coursing through her, mixing with pride.

“You did great,” Zac said. “See, you’re ready for the checkout dive. It’s the same thing.”

Brady draped an arm around her shoulder. “Yep, the same. Just watch out for the sharks.”

 

Nick toyed with his cell phone, rotating it around and around, part of him wishing he’d never asked for the appointment, the other half eager for it to begin.

He told himself that he was doing due diligence, double-checking all the things he needed to double-check, crossing his Ts and dotting his Is. But really, he wanted to see if he still felt the same comfort he’d felt the last time he’d met the man.

The elevator pinged loudly on the quiet floor, and Nick set his phone down on his desk and glanced out his open doorway, only to find the crew had come by for the weekly cleaning.

With a deep breath, he leaned back in his chair and took in his office. Never had an office looked less like its owner than this one. For whatever reason, he’d never wanted his degree to be hung there, when it had always been a huge deal to his parents. So for years his diplomas had hung in the study of his parents’ house. Only when they had both passed had he moved it, and now it was in his office at his house: an office that exuded his personality.

Part of the problem was that Nick had left the decorating of his office at home to Becca and the one at work to the decorator on the project. One person knew him; the other cared only about money.

So his work office was full of expensive drapes and furnishings and other things that meant nothing to Nick.

His home office was comfortable, the desk itself nothing to write home about, but the chair was meant for a man to sit in and work. God, he loved that chair. And if this meeting went the way he both feared and hoped, that might be his permanent office going forward.

Well, at least he had the chair.

The elevator pinged again, and Nick glanced up in time to watch William Compton step off. He swallowed hard, but he didn’t stand to greet the man. He wanted to prove a point—this was his decision, and though he’d immediately liked Compton, even if he hated to admit it, he didn’t know the man and therefore refused to trust him.

So Nick watched him walk toward his office, but where most men might arrogantly ask what this was all about, William stopped in the doorway and knocked, despite the door being open.

“Mr. Hamilton? You asked to see me.”

“Call me Nick, and I did. Please, come in.” When Compton stared down the hall to the conference room, Nick added, “That was my father’s conference room. If it’s okay, I’d rather not discuss selling his business in the place where he helped it thrive.”

Compton nodded slowly and took one of the chairs in front of Nick’s desk, watching him in a way that made him uneasy, yet the look was so familiar that he couldn’t help getting straight to the point.

“Mr. Compton, I—”

“Surely if you insist that I call you Nick, you can call me William.”

Once again, Nick thought that he liked William Compton, that something about him felt real in a world of fake. “William. I’ll be honest with you. I didn’t call you here so much to talk about selling you the business as asking why you want it.”

“I should think that would be obvious.”

“With most of the investors who’ve sought us out, yes. But not you. I get the impression there’s a reason you’re here, and it has nothing to do with business. What’s the story?”

William stood then and started around the office, stopping at a large portrait on the wall of Carter with his three sons. “He was very proud of you, Nick. Talked about you all the time. ‘Nick’s going to conquer the world,’ he used to say.”

“I thought you might know my father, but that isn’t what has me confused. You can’t be in this business without knowing Carter Hamilton. But what I can’t figure out is why you also look like him. It’s barely there, and you could argue that all older men look the same. Hell, you could argue that all young men look the same. But there’s something about you in particular that I can’t quite put my finger on.”

William sat back in his chair, his elbow propped up on the armrest as he studied Nick, and then a smile broke across his face. “He always said you were the smartest.”

“So you did know him.”

At that, William laughed. “Yes, I’d say I did. He was my brother, after all.”

“Your what?” Nick’s mouth fell open, and though he prided himself on his composure in meetings, he couldn’t force it back closed.

“I see that’s come as a bit of a shock to you, which isn’t surprising. Carter was a private man, as you know. And he would never have wanted to taint the memory you have of your grandfather. I daresay I didn’t know him as well and am not so loyal.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Carter was my half brother. Your grandfather was my father. He had an affair with my mother who, as cliché as it might be, was his assistant. They maintained a relationship for many years before my mother married the man I considered to be my father all my life.”

“But why didn’t you tell me that during that first meeting?”

William offered a warm smile. “It wasn’t my secret to tell.”

Nick tried to make sense of what William was saying, but he came up empty. What he knew of Frank Hamilton was that his grandfather had been a strong businessman, forever driven, but also a family man, much more so than even Carter had been. The idea of him having an affair seemed farfetched and offensive.