Page 23 of Nigel

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He was restless. Hehad stayed there in the kitchen after she left, trying to fight thedesire pouring through his body. He also realized that he did nothave a number for her. But he could always reach her through theagency.

He definitely knewthat she was not a maid. Would it matter if she were? He had switchedfrom wine to brandy and dumped the rest of the meal into the trash.He knew his housekeeper would not expect him to clean up and withthat in mind, he had left the dishes in the sink.

He felt something.Something he had never thought it possible to feel again. His fingerstightened around the glass as he stared into the amber liquidbroodingly. The memories came rushing back, threatening to swamp him.

He had been twentyand in college when he met her. Sara had been a science major anddetermined to go into forensic science.

She had beenvivacious and witty, with messy dark brown hair and sharp intelligentdark blue eyes. She had made him laugh, teasing him and saying thathe was too sober. And he had fallen for her in the space of a week.

They had become acouple, doing things together, studying until they were exhausted andexisting on coffee and little sleep. His major had been business andarchitecture, because he had known exactly where he wanted to takethe family company even at that young age.

They had been happytogether, two young people about to conquer the world. He had sharedhis plans with her and she had encouraged him.

He was going to takehis father’s company and bring it into the twenty-first centuryand he had been determined to make a difference.

He had brought herhome to meet his parents. A fleeting smile touched his lips as herecalled how nervous she had been.

“Your folks aresuper rich,” she had pointed out.

“And they arejust people. They are going to love you, perhaps not the way I do,but almost,” he had teased.

“I grew up asan only child to middle income parents. I had to take out studentloans to attend university.”

“And now youare hooked up with a rich guy. Go figure.”

“Do you think Iam into you for your money?” she had asked him soberly. He hadbeen about to say something wicked and witty but had seen theexpression on her lovely face. She had wanted a straight answer.

“Not a chance,”he had said, just as soberly.

But they had lovedher. She was that type of person. His parents had embraced her andwelcomed her into the family, as he had suspected they would.

Tossing back theliquor, he tried to tamp down the haunting memories. Things had beengoing so well, until that summer. They had made plans to go to Europefor several weeks. She had worried about her courses and fallingbehind and he had finally persuaded her that taking the few weekswould not affect anything.

“Besides, yourbrilliance is unlike anything I have ever seen.”

She had been soexcited that she had started planning and writing down what theywould be doing.

Tears glittered inhis eyes as he dragged his fingers through his hair. She had gone outone night to get some pastries and coffee to tide them over. He hadbeen bogged down with some work of his own and had not accompaniedher.

He had been soinvolved in the papers that it took some time for him to realize thatshe was not back yet. When he had surfaced, he had called and herphone had gone straight to voicemail.

He still hadn’tworried, until two hours had passed and he was still unable to getthrough to her. It was then he had gone to find her and while he wason his way, he had received the phone call. A call that had alteredhis life forever.

An addict had draggedher into an alley and slit her throat for what she had in her pocketsand the food she had in the paper bag. Just like that, she had beentaken away from him. He had been destroyed- unable to cope formonths.

Therapy and griefcounseling had helped and his parents had been his strongest supportsystem. Her violent death had scarred him for a very long time.

He had slowlyrecovered, using the plans he had for the company to drive him assoon as he finished college. He had stayed away from relationshipsand had had no interest in marriage.

Until now. He laughedshakily, rubbing his hands over his face. What he had felt for Sarawas something childish and sweet.

She had been hisfirst as he had been hers.

Passion had tingledbetween them of course, but it was nothing compared to what hadhappened earlier. It felt like a slow burn that had turned into aninferno.

He was still hard, herealized with a shake of his head. And he was going to have topersuade her to come back to him. He didn’t even know her damnlast name and she had not given him a number. But he had herconnection and that would work.

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