Page 149 of Worth Every Penny

“Hey!”

Oh, God.Is he shouting at me? What the fuck am I doing?

I’m panicking, that’s what.

But this is ridiculous. I can’t very well run through hordes of people with a carry-on bag rattling on shitty wheels behind me. I stop, and a large, heavy hand lands on my shoulder.

“Don’t you dare run away now,” he rasps. “Not when you’re this fucking close.”

The sound of his voice ripples through me, melting me to my core. God, I’ve missed it. But…close to what?

“Nico, what’s going on?” The voice is British, female, with a cockney twang that contrasts with Nico’s deep, upper class timbre.

His hand on my shoulder is hot and firm as his fingers encourage me to turn. The weight lifts, but only when I’m already twisting towards him.

His face, so close to mine, takes my breath away. Dark irises flicker with a desperation that tugs at my soul. “What are you doing here?” His voice is a low, urgent rumble that thrums over my skin.

“Nico?” Erica asks, drawing up alongside us before I can gather myself to answer him.

Nico smooths his expression and stands to his full height, and a warm gust of air carries his unmistakable scent as he pulls back from me. People passing on the street are watching us, bemused. Me, jet-lagged and bedraggled, pinned between two of the best-looking, most highly polished people in the world.

“Erica, this is Kate Lansen. A colleague.” Nico says. The rough, commanding edge to his tone is gone. Now, there’s only polite inquiry. I stiffen at the sound of it.

A colleague?

“Kate, this is Erica Lefroy,” he tells me as if I wouldn’t know who she is.

We nod at one another awkwardly.

Nico frowns, then leans in. “Is everything all right?” The question is so quiet that I’m not sure even Erica hears it.

I hate that my throat is closing over right now. I can hardly swallow.

Erica glances at her phone, then up at Nico. “We’re going to be late.”

I bow and step back, like a waiter retreating from a table at which he’s lingered too long after taking an order. The wheels of my suitcase nearly take out an elderly man who yells, “Watch it,” then grumbles, “Fucking tourists.”

Nico stares like he’s willing me to say something else, but I can’t. I completely clam up under Erica’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Sweetie,” she says, placing a hand on my arm. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Yes. I’ll leave you to it,” I say, trying to back away.

“Can we get you a cab? Where are you staying?” Erica’s model-perfect face is scrunching with concern. I feel bad; she’s giving herself wrinkles on my account.

And damn it, the woman is actually nice.

“Kate, why are you here?” Nico repeats, the authoritative tone blasting from each word now. I feel like a junior employee wasting his time. Which is exactly what I am.

But the intensity in his eyes, the way his dark lashes flicker over irises that burn ferociously, suggests he knows why I’m here, and needs to hear me say it.

“For you,” I whisper.

His eyes widen, just a fraction, and his hand clamps around my wrist. “Where are you staying?”

I mumble out the name of a hotel, and Nico’s hand slides from my wrist to my shoulder, wrapping around my back like a protective armour. I want to relax into it, but I can’t. I stiffen instead, and his arm tenses in response. Even our bodies are disconnected and awkward. He ushers me towards the car.Hiscar.

“I’ll get a cab,” I say.

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