Time Heals Everything Page 4

  “You think so?” She purred softly. Rising to her feet, her movements were as smooth and liquid as a dancer. “Dance with me, Nick. Let me feel your body close to mine. I want to feel your heart beat. That is, if you have a heart to beat.” As if to mock him, she began a slow, sultry dance whose steps and rhythm may have resembled a waltz, but her movements were anything but innocent. He tried to move away, only to find himself pinned against a wall. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he gave her a gentle push. “Okay, Kat, you’ve had enough. You’re going to be sick if you keep this up.”

  Her lips tilted into a beaming smile as she placed her hands on her hips. “Odd, that’s not what Errol said. He promised me a trip on his yacht after tonight’s show. I think I’m gonna go, too!”

  “Like hell you are!” With a snarl, he lifted her into his arms, carrying her protesting form past the gawking patrons and up the short flight of stairs to their private rooms. Covering the stairs two at a time, he kicked open the door before placing her roughly on her feet. “You get inside, and you’d better damn well stay there. I’ll announce that you’ve suddenly become ill and while I’m at it, I’ll send Mr. Flynn your regrets.”

  “You wouldn’t,” she breathed as she swayed against the door. “He could be my big break.”

  “What?” The word burst from his lips as a look of sheer astonishment crossed his face. Running a hand through his hair, he tried desperately to drag some sanity back into his world. “You can’t be serious. What did he promise you? A part in his next film?”

  “Sorta,” she admitted weakly as she leaned against the doorframe for support. “He said that I had potential.”

  “Yeah, as his next bed partner!” Using one finger to lift her face to his, Nick looked at her grimly. “You are to stay here and get out of that rig you’re wearing. I’ll have Tim send you up something to eat, but unless there is a fire, you’re not to leave this room.” Looking down at the wriggling form of Buddy, Nick snapped his fingers. “If she even looks at the door, bite her, will ya, fella?”

  “But what about you?” She asked dolefully, pressing her cheek against the doorframe.

  Looking at her, Nick ignored the sad tone in her voice and the sickly green tone of her usually fair skin. “Me?” He questioned with a lift of his brow. “I’ve got a club to run. I’ll look in on you after we’ve closed.” Looking down, he again fixed his gaze on Buddy. “And if you want your dinner, you’ll make certain that she stays put.”

  “Would you look at this mess?” Overseeing the shambles of a busy night, Tim sighed as he rolled up his sleeves, revealing well-toned arms. “It’s going to take us most of tomorrow just to restock.”

  Grinning as he pulled off his dark tie, Nick pointed to the cash register. “And from what we made tonight, I’d say we have plenty of profit to show for it. Now, where is that fine bottle of champagne that our illustrious Mr. Flynn left for Kat?”

  Shaking his head, Tim handed him the bottle, watching as Nick gave a final grin before heading up the back stairs. Someone, Tim thought with a look of sympathy in his dark eyes, is in for a night she’s never going to forget.

  The sound of Nick’s low whistle had Kat shuddering even while she clutched Buddy tightly in her arms. He’s gonna fire me, I just know it . . . he doesn’t whistle like that unless it’s bad news. Sinking into a loveseat, she gently scratched Buddy’s ears. “Well, he likes you, so maybe he’ll keep you around.”

  “Are you decent?” When silence was his only answer, Nick slowly opened the door, arching a brow at the picture before him. Kat’s freshly scrubbed face peeked out from under Buddy’s shaggy coat, her cinnamon colored hair a tousled mess.

  Moving slowly into the room, he closed the door with his foot, the bottle of champagne still in his hand. “Those shakes can be murder, can’t they?” he asked casually as he expertly unwrapped the foil around the neck of the bottle. “Nothing like the hair of the dog to cure them, though, or so I’m told.”

  She shifted, squirming uncomfortably. “Nick . . . about tonight.”

  “What about it?” He nearly lost his nerve at the sight of her bare feet peeking out from under a threadbare robe, filmy pink roses covering the most intimate of spots. Gritting his teeth, he poured a full glass of the bubbly liquid, handing it over, but not before noticing the slight shudder that passed through her features. Her hands trembled as they closed about the flute.

  “Drink up,” he urged, turning his back to hide the amusement in his eyes. “Go on,” he encouraged. “I spoke to Errol myself, and he was very understanding. He even went so far as to extend his invitation the next time you’re available.” He was barely able to smother his grin when he turned to see Kat holding the full glass as if it were poison.

  “Come on, drink up. You’re a college girl, remember? Why, I would have thought that you’d be ready for another one by now.” Ignoring the image of misery before him, Nick deftly poured a glass for himself, raising it into a mock toast. “Well, cheers, kiddo. It looks like you’re on your way.”

  She was on her way, all right – to the bathroom. The glass in her hand shattered on the floor as slender legs flashed in the wake of her mad dash to the nearby toilet. By the time she returned, cringing at the mess she knew she had left behind her, there was nothing to be found. In her absence, Nick had removed the remains of her glass and the bottle that had rolled into a pool of its own contents during her flight. Now, he stood near the second-hand sofa she had found somewhere, moving as she re-entered the room, only to place a supporting arm around her swaying figure. “Easy, kid. Come on and lay down on the sofa.”

  “I don’t think that is such a good idea,” she moaned, leaning her head on the solid form of his broad shoulder. “If I do, the room will start spinning again.”

  Lifting her slight frame, he carried her over to the sofa, carefully sitting before cradling her gently in his lap. Pressing her head against his white linen shirt, he stroked her hair tenderly. “Rest your head here for a while and be welcomed to the world of hangovers. You, kid, are having a hell of an initiation.”

  The scent of his cologne seemed like a breath of heaven as she snuggled against him. “Am not,” she protested drowsily even as her eyes began to close. “The champagne was bad . . . or something.”

  Nick looked down at her, his lips twitching into an amused smile as he opened his mouth to reply, before seeing that she had already drifted off to sleep. Chuckling softly at the sound of her quiet snore, his eyes gentled while his hand drifted to her hair, caressing the short bob of curls. For once, Nick let down the wall he kept around him like another suit of clothes and simply cradled her closely.

  “Nick?” Her voice was nothing more than a soft whisper of sound.

  “Yeah,” he answered quietly, his hand still moving through her mass of curls. His hand stayed, locked in her hair as he recognized the peculiar tone in her voice. She wasn’t completely awake, so she would never know how gently, how closely, he held her.

  “I think I’m in love with you.” Struggling to raise her head, she looked at him through half-opened eyes that were softened with sleep. “I wasn’t really going to go out with Errol . . . just wanted to make you jealous.”

  Before his stunned mind could think of an answer, her head dropped back, her bright curls tickling the side of his neck. His mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before he could speak. “Hush, it’s the booze talking. You don’t want to fall in love with someone like me.” Looking down, his eyes lingered on her face for a long while. “No one like you deserves a man like me,” he continued to the sleeping woman in his arms. “You can do better than a street rat like me, kid – you’re a classier broad than that. You don’t deserve a guy with a reputation like mine.”

  He didn’t know when it was that he drifted off to sleep, Kat still safely in his arms, but he woke to the scent of brewing coffee and the crackling snap of cooking bacon and eggs. Both had him bolting upright, startled, only to stifle a groan as he stretched the kinks out o
f his neck and shoulders.

  Blinking, he looked around a room in dire need of paint and plaster. Why in the hell didn’t I ever notice what a rat hole she’s living in? She needs a better place than this. I gotta get in here and fix this place up. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he spied Kat in front of a two- burner stove, humming as she moved about. As she deftly turned the bacon, the sight of her creamy breasts amply displayed under that threadbare housecoat, had him realizing just how hungry he was. And not just for breakfast.

  Grinning wolfishly, he rose to his feet, noticing that she had carefully removed his hated spats, placing them neatly to one side. “It’s not often that I have a pretty woman fixing me breakfast.”

  Whirling as he spoke, the fork still in her hand, a flush burst over Kat’s pretty face. With the back of her hand, she brushed the curls from her face, while a smile dimpled her pink lips. “Well, after last night, I thought the least I could do is feed you. Besides, it has to be better than the raw egg in a beer that you usually have.”

  “Hey,” he protested, a wry grin curling his face. “I’ve had that for breakfast for the last twenty years and it hasn’t killed me yet.”

  “Neither will this,” she answered with a saucy grin. “Now why don’t you take off that shirt and get washed while I set the table.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Shucking off his shirt, he wasn’t aware of the way her eyes devoured his wide shoulders or the sprinkling of fine hair the dusted his chest. Or how she had to force her mind away from the way his dark trousers hugged his hips, held only by a pair of suspenders.

  Making his way to the tiny bath, Nick quickly ran his hands under a trickle of running water, frowning when the basin refused to drain. Poking his blonde head around the doorframe, he muttered in frustration. “Kat,” he called. “Remind me to get a plumber up here. Your sink’s backed up.”

  “No, it’s not.” Brushing against him, her soft breasts pressed against his bare arm as she aimed a small, slippered foot at the right spot, kicking the pipe firmly. “There, that will fix it. If I complained to the landlord over everything that was wrong, he’d kick me out on my keister.” Leaning against the gurgling sink, she watched the level drain, one hand on his muscled arm. “Besides, this is the first place that’s my very own. With a few coats of paint, it’s going to be swell.”

  Nick snorted softly. It needs more than a few pints of paint, he thought, glancing up. Needs plaster on the ceiling, gotta get that sink fixed. “Swell, right.”

  “Don’t worry,” she soothed her hand moving in gentle circles around his arm. “I’m happy here . . . it’s a lot better than some places I’ve lived.” For a moment, her green eyes held an expression of memories that were better off staying forgotten – buried where they were.

  Feeling the gentle swell of her breasts against him, and her soft breath warm against his skin, he backed away until his knees hit the back of the tiny tub. “Kat . . . don’t. If you had any sense at all, you’d leave while you still have a fighting chance. Pack your bags; take what money that you have squirreled away and get as far away from me as you possibly can.”

  Sighing, she leaned her head against his shoulder, her words muffled against his chest. “What if I told you that I’ve tried? That I have packed my bags, grabbed Buddy and my money, even getting to as far as the train station? But I couldn’t . . .”

  She broke off, hitching a deep breath, trying to hide the tears that lingered on her thick lashes. “After all, I couldn’t do it to Buddy,” she said, giving him a watery smile. “He has gotten pretty fond of you, and you’re . . . you’re so lousy at math, you’d go broke in a month without me around. Who else would catch all of your mistakes?” She tried to lighten the mood, pulling back with a smile.

  “A good point,” he answered lowly, a spot of warmth in his normally cool eyes. “And I am fond of the mutt.” A hand crept to the nape of her neck, his fingers gently playing with the curls there.

  There might have been more than a gentle embrace if Buddy’s shrill barking hadn’t brought to their attention the billowing smoke that came from the tiny kitchen.

  Kat shrieked in alarm. “Oh no, the eggs!”

  Brushing her aside, Nick darted to the kitchen and threw open the tiny window before grabbing a towel to shield his hands before throwing out the blacked mess, pan, and all. Gasping in deep lungfuls of fresh air, he leaned out as far as he could, trying to forget how enticing Kat had been in his arms, and how very right she had felt there.

  Turning, his eyes narrowed against more than just the sting of acrid smoke as he looked at her, her housecoat barely closed as she held Buddy in her arms, while she waved ineffectually at the haze of smoke filling her apartment.

  It was then that something snapped in Nick. He thought of all the nights he had wanted her – of lying in bed, tossing on tangled sheets, knowing that she was just down the hall. Of how ripe her body was whenever he brushed past and how pliant she had been in his arms the few times he had dared hold her. Crossing the room, he took her by the hand. “Come on, you can’t stay here. You’re staying at my place until the dump is fixed.”

  Her eyes looked up at him with a troubled expression. “What about Buddy?”

  Nick rolled his eyes to the heavens, praying for patience. “Yeah, and Buddy too. Now come on before I change my mind.”

  It was close to twenty minutes before Kat came out of his bath, wrapped in one of Nick’s oversized white robes. Pouring her a cup of fresh coffee, he wondered just how in the hell he had allowed himself to break one of his own rules. And what am I going to do about it now? He watched her, feeling everything harden and soften all at once, as she took a cautious sip, releasing her precarious grip on the robe. Her eyes widened in shock. “Good God, it’s supposed to be strong, but this coffee could hold a spoon all on its own!”

  Slipping the robe back over her creamy shoulders where it belonged, he couldn’t resist taking the time to drink in the view in front of him. Suppressing a groan, he forced his eyes back to where they belonged. “If you don’t quit looking at me like that, the coffee isn’t the only thing that is going to be . . . hot.”

  Knotting the terry cloth tightly around her tiny waist, she turned away, a soft plea in her voice. “Please, Nick, not today. I’m just not up to your teasing.”

  Pulling her to him, Nick’s hands were hard around her waist. “Do I look like I’m teasing?” Taking her slender hand to slide it over him, he spoke in a husky whisper. “Does this feel like I’m teasing?”

  She couldn’t resist. She couldn’t have even if she had known how. She had been in love with Nick for so very long, had wanted him for even longer, and now that she had this moment, she wasn’t about to turn away. They had crossed a line, and there was no going back for either of them.

  His hands moved in slow circles, his eyes never leaving hers. “Are you certain that this is what you want? That I’m what you want?” He lifted his hands to her shoulders, gently running fingers down the base of her neck. His control was shredding with each touch, with each breath that she took as she moved closer.

  “I owe you so much . . . I’ve learned so much from you.”

  Scowling, he caught her by the shoulders. “Hell, baby, this isn’t gratitude. I want a hell of a lot more from you than that. But there’s no strings attached to whatever we do here. I told you once that I would never send you roses, or love letters. But I don’t want you here because you think that you have some debt you think you have to repay.” Tipping her face up to his, he waited until her eyes were locked on his. “I know a lot of women who do that for a living, and you’re not one of them. But understand – this is no forever thing. There’s no ring at the end of the rainbow. But you’re mine for as long as you want to be, which means I get all of you, not just your body.”

  Tilting her head as her fingers caressed his unshaven cheek, she gave a lopsided smile. “You don’t ask for much, do you?”

  “Only everything,” he answered softly, his eyes hungry, and for
once, his heart open for her to see how much that honesty cost him.

  Wordlessly, she tugged at his shirt, watching it as it drifted to the floor, a pale stain against the wooden boards. With a low breathless sound that was a mixture of wonder and need, she brought her body as close as possible to his. It was perfect. More perfect than any of the imaginary dreams that had occupied her nights – and days -- for so long.

  “God, Kat,” he whispered shakily. “Tell me what it is that you want.”

  “Want?” she asked, as she reached out to feel him warm and heavy against his hand. “I want to see all of you. I want to touch you slowly, to taste, and feel every part of you. And then I want you to make us one. I want to feel you inside of me until there’s no room for you to go.”

  Giving out a ragged moan, she twisted his hair, thick against her fingers. Then, she was in his arms, carried to his large, empty bed. He tore the robe from her while his mouth burned a path across her jaw, her neck, and then slowly traveled downward.

  His lips curved in a slow, devious smile as he slid his hands around her hips and lifted one leg until it lay propped on the footboard made of brass. “Don’t move. I just want to look at you.”

  She wasn’t certain that she could stand the heat pouring from his gaze... The way he just stood there devouring her with his eyes. And when he dropped one knee and kissed her inner thigh, she jerked, embarrassment sweeping through her. “Oh, no. Please don’t do that,” she whispered. Please don’t … stop …

  No one had ever done that before.

  Not taking his gaze from her, he lowered his head, kissing her belly, his fingers working their magic.

  “And you taste delicious.” He kissed his way lower, grazing her with his tongue. “The sweetest honey,” he insisted, curling his tongue to lick at her center, each delicious stroke making her breath come faster.

  The silence of the room was suddenly loud against the hammering of her heart when her pleasure broke racing through her on silver waves. “Nick, now,” she pleaded her voice breaking as desire rose higher and higher. “I can’t wait any longer.”