Page 13 of Nikolai
But…maybe he’d been blown away and she wasn’t as enticing as he remembered?
That was always a possibility.After so long in unsavory places, maybe he had like the bends and had blown her up to something she wasn’t in his head.
Nope.When she answered the door, he nearly sighed.Somehow, she was even more beautiful than he remembered.
“Hi,” she said, and he made some kind of sound with his mouth.“Sorry I’m running a little late.I’m never late, but I had a zoom call with my publisher, and it dragged on.”
She was chatty and friendly, but all of a sudden, she stopped, frowning.“What?What’s wrong?Do I have lipstick on my teeth, or something?”
“Huh?”he said.And then realized he had stopped, frozen just inside the door, and was staring at her.
Creeps stared at women.It was a tool of intimidation but also stalkerish.That’s not what this was.It’s just that he was frozen.She was so fucking beautiful she ate up his entire hard disk.
Maybe it was wrong, him meeting her just back from the badlands.He wasn’t used to beautiful, smart women.It bunged up his brain and tangled his tongue.
“Nick?”She was frowning and had taken a step back.
That shocked him out of his paralysis.He was making her afraid of him.Goddamn, that was the last thing he wanted.
Get your head out of your ass, stat!he told himself sternly.
“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head.“Had a little fugue state there.About work.”
The little lie worked.Parker relaxed.“Had a few myself.Would you like a drink while you wait?I still need a few minutes.”
A few minutes?He’d wait months, years for her.A few minutes was nothing.
Nick smiled at her.“No, I’m fine.I’ll just sit down and wait.Done a lot of that in my career.A lot of soldiering is just waiting around.I’ve got waiting around down to a fine art.”Hours lying immobile in a hide, pissing in a bottle.Hours traveling in a fiercely uncomfortable C-130, strapped to the bulkhead, pissing in a bottle.Hours on surveillance, pissing in a bottle.
This—this on the other hand, was sheer heaven.He looked around.Parker’s apartment was a delight, like the inside of a music box.She had antique furniture, nothing modern.But not trophy antique furniture— they looked like things that had been used generation after generation.Antique rugs and what looked like real art on the walls.The total effect was charming and soothing.To add to the sensory overload, classical music was playing.He was a musical barbarian and had no idea what it was—there were flutes and a harp and a piano—but it was better than a beta blocker to slow down the heart.
The last rays of the sun slanted in from the French doors open to a wrought iron balcony, filling the room with golden light, making everything shine.
Just sitting there made him feel better.And on top of that, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen was in the other room, getting ready to go out to dinner with him.
His last job had been in one of the ’Stans, a six-month long contract on behalf of the DOD to get a local warlord to sign a treaty respecting human rights.The warlord had no intention of respecting the treaty, and even getting him to sign had been a crash course in human psychopathology, as if Nick needed that.It had involved going hunting with the psychopath, clubbing with the psychopath, and eating with the psychopath who had the table manners of a feral boar.He’d had to watch him behave like a monster, smiling all the while, trying to inculcate some values of decency in a man who had none.And in the evening, he’d go back to his dusty, uncomfortable hotel, which was the best in the city, and take a half-hour shower trying to scrub Fuckhead Psycho off his skin.
His company had made eight million dollars, and the fuckhead had signed, which calmed things down around his borders and maybe some lives would be saved.But he’d counted the minutes before he could leave and heaved a sigh of relief as his company plane took off.
Originally, once his last contract finished, he’d just wanted to go home.But home wasn’t really home, it was just a place.He’d chosen London as his home base because it was in a convenient time zone, but what was waiting for him was a deluxe flat in the center of the city that was half empty, felt empty, even smelled empty, and was more alienating than a hotel room.
And it had rained in Psycholand for weeks.The streets had instantly become pools of mud, since the company that paved the streets was owned by the President-For-Life’s nephew and he was a cokehead who didn’t have the faintest clue about road maintenance.
Nick needed someplace warm and sunny and welcoming.His next job was scheduled in Naples in four days, so he decided to give himself a few days off and flew directly to Naples.
Man, was he glad he did.
Parker came out of her bedroom, and he stood.Oh God.How could any woman be so beautiful?It was like she shimmered when she walked.She had on an elegant summer dress the exact color of her eyes.
She blinked at him.“Is something wrong?Are we late?”
“No.”Nick almost took a step back when she walked up to him.Fuck, he never took steps back no matter what.“Why?”
She touched his arm, and Nick felt a little electric shock.“You stood up so abruptly.Why did you—oh!”Those cobalt-blue eyes widened.“You stood up because I walked into the room?Not often you see that.Someone brought you up right.”
He had an answer for that.
“My father is very old school, instilled manners in me and chided me if I forgot them, particularly in the presence of ladies.”He grinned.“My mom, on the other hand, is brutal and would smack me if she didn’t like my behavior.You learn quickly.I didn’t want to disappoint my father, and I was terrified of my mother.”
