“No, you won’t. We will,” he says, and he glances at Erica. She nods, already striding out towards the edge of the pavement and sticking her hand out into the traffic.
A cab instantly indicates and rolls towards her.
“I’m giving the opening speech at a charity gala tonight,” Nico says. The words are rushed and whispered as he opens the door of the car. “I can’t miss it.”
He puts gentle pressure on my shoulder and I lower into the car and slide over the leather seat. I want to reach out and pull him in beside me.
On the street, the driver is already putting my suitcase in the boot. Nico barks directions to him, one hand braced on the open car door, the other on the roof. He’s going to shut the door and leave me.Fuck. Will I even see him again, or is this his way of telling me I’m not wanted?
Desperate to get some kind of answer, I say, “Are you and Erica…”
Nico dips his head back through the car door and leans towards me, a mixture of frustration and apology in his eyes. “No. Listen, I can’t talk right now. I wish you’d told me you were coming.”
“I know about Martin,” I blurt. “You discovered he and Curtis were working together. You saved Dad’s art. I know what you did for us, for my family.”
“I have to go…”
“Was it legal?” The phrase spurts from my mouth, a harried whisper. “What you did to sort everything out?”
He freezes. “It was… effective.” I know what that word means. It meansNo. “Is that a problem?”
Staring at his face—his stupid, gorgeous face—I realise I don’t give a fuck. As long as he isn’t lying to me, I don’t care what he did to Martin, because that bastard deserved whatever he had coming to him.
“No,” I whisper.
And then I do the stupidest thing. I lurch forwards and kiss him. If I can even call it a kiss; it’s more like a clash of lip and tooth. It’s warm and hard and wet and soft; overall, it’s a mess. A collision of human faces in a pattern that makes no sense.
Nico recoils, his eyes darting all over me, scanning every inch of my face and body. He mutters something under his breath.
And then he’s gone, the door slamming in his wake.
46
NICO
Applause roars as I finish my speech. The rich and famous of New York are assembled before me at round tables, beneath the glittering lights of chandeliers.
Ordinarily, I’d be honoured to be here, grateful for the opportunity to speak before faces that I recognise. People I might even call friends. A congressman, a former president, editors of journals and papers, and owners of the same. But there’s only one thing on my mind right now.
Kate Lansen.
She came to New York. She came to findme.
I can still hear that breathy whisper when I asked her why she was here.
For you.
There are three hundred pairs of eyes watching me, but none of them have the impact of that glance on the street outside the office earlier this evening. Seconds before I saw her, my skin tingled with the telltale sensation of being observed. My soul knew it was her, even before my eyes confirmed it.
I give the audience a bow before I descend from the stage. I weave through the crowd to get back to my table. I nod and smile exactly when I’m supposed to, shaking hands and greeting familiar faces. I’ve done this thousands of times. Not that I’d call it a pretense, but it is an act, to a certain extent.
“That was great,” Erica whispers, leaning towards me as I take my seat next to her.
I lift my wine, raise a toast and nod my head in thanks before downing the entire glass in one go. Erica arches a brow at me, but makes no comment. I’ve been a shitty date since we bumped into Kate. I’ve barely said a word. I can’t fucking concentrate.
Although ‘date’ is the wrong word; it’s a favour, really. That’s why she called the day I saw Martin Brooks. She has a huge advertising campaign coming out for an exclusive female fragrance, and apparently being seen with me fits the marketing profile. I had to pull a few strings to get her in this evening, but she’s so famous I only had to tug lightly.
The look on Kate’s face, though… I’m not sure doing the favour was worth it for the pain that marred her features. She looked less like a rabbit in the headlights and more like… road kill. She was a zombie when I helped her into the car.