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Yeah, like happy-ever-afters ever happened in the real world.
‘I want to discuss my father because I visited him yesterday.' She raised stricken eyes to his and it took every ounce of willpower not to reach out, bundle her into his arms, and comfort her. 'He hasn't changed a bit.'
Nick swallowed the bitterness that rose at the thought of Darby Lloyd and his far-reaching vitriol poisoning everything and everyone around him, including this special woman.
Nick hadn't blamed her for running away. He'd wondered what took her so long.
Unable to resist, he reached out and took hold of her hand, surprised and more than a little grateful when she let him. 'Want to know what I think?'
She nodded, her eyes wide with pain.
'You've moved on. From what you've told me, you're a successful businesswoman with one hell of a career so don't let the past suck you back in.' He squeezed her hand, trailed his thumb across the back of it. 'It's not worth it.'
Brittany couldn't meet Nick’s kind gaze. She preferred his tough guy persona. She could protect her heart from that guy. Caring Nick, not so much.
'Thanks,' she murmured, blinking away the tears. She'd done nothing but make a fool of herself since she'd arrived in Jacaranda: making assumptions about Nick, letting him kiss her, hoping her father had changed. She didn't need to start blubbering to top it off.
'Hey, don't cry.'
His thumb brushed away the tears that had spilled over and run down her cheeks in a gentle swipe. Great. Just her luck she hadn't worn waterproof mascara today.
‘Must be jet lag catching up with me,' she said, mortified when a veritable flood seeped from her eyes.
'Come here, you.'
Before she could protest, Nick hauled her into his arms and cradled her close, smoothing her hair, making soft crooning noises. Being enveloped in his strong arms, her face pressed against his chest, surrounded by his familiar scent of sugar and spice and all things nice, should've soothed her.
It didn't. Being held by Nick dammed her tears but it resurrected a host of feelings that had nothing to do with comfort.
Desire seeped through her body as he continued stroking her hair, rendering her powerless to move. She couldn't have pulled away if she wanted to.
She inhaled deeply, allowing the heady combination of sugar-cane sweetness, metal polish, and tropical sunshine to flood her lungs, enjoying the momentary lapse in reason as she wished he could hold her like this forever.
Sliding her arms around his waist, she allowed her hands the luxury of smoothing across firm muscle, revelling in the heat radiating through his cotton T-shirt.
Closing her eyes, she sighed, knowing there was no place in the world she'd rather be than right here.
London was her life now, the vibrant city a part of her new persona, but even with her career shooting into the stratosphere, at times like this, in the warm embrace of an incredible man, it wasn't enough.
She'd tried to forget Nick. But at random times, like doing the laundry or strolling alongside the Thames or waiting for the photocopier, she’d wonder what he was doing, who he was doing it with, and where they would be if he'd said yes to her all those years ago.
‘Are you okay now?' He pulled back with such swiftness she almost fell off her chair.
'Yeah, thanks.'
She scanned his face for an indication of what he was thinking, but the Mancini mask had slipped into place, leaving her wondering what was going on behind those enigmatic dark eyes. She'd seen this same shuttered expression on their last night together ten years ago, the night he'd broken her heart.
He cleared his throat. ‘Don’ forget, we have other business to discuss.’
Her heart sank. For those all too brief moments when he'd held her, she'd forgotten the reason she'd requested this meeting. But the thought of her father, as poisonous as a puffer fish, leaped to mind and she knew she had to do this.
It was the only way.
She needed this promotion now more than ever, needed the money to clear a debt she'd never known existed, and the sooner that was done, the better. Then she'd finally be free.
'You're right, we do need to talk.' She twisted a strand of hair around her finger, a habit she'd long conquered, before belatedly releasing it. What was it about this guy that obliterated the last ten years as if they'd never happened and thrust her back to a time she'd rather forget, when she’d been naive and uncertain? 'I have an answer for you regarding your proposal.'
'And?' He propped against the motorbike, looking every bit the bad boy rebel he'd once been: dark, devastating, delicious.
