It Came Upon A Midnight Clear. Suzanne Brockmann
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epic poems were written about and a nose that advertised an aristocratic ancestry. And his eyes…Steely gray and heart-stoppingly intense, the force of his gaze was nearly palpable. When he’d looked at her, she’d felt as if he could see right through her, as if he could read her mind.
His lips reminded her of those old gothic romances she’d read when she was younger. He had decidedly cruel lips. Upon seeing them, she’d suddenly realized that rather odd descriptive phrase made perfect sense. His lips were gracefully shaped, but thin and tight, particularly since his default expression was not a smile.
In fact, Nell couldn’t remember ever having seen William Hawken smile.
His friends, or at least the members of his SEAL team—she wasn’t sure if a man that broodingly quiet actually had any friends—called him “Crash.”
Daisy had told her that Billy Hawken had been given that nickname when he was training to become a SEAL. His partner in training had jokingly started calling him Crash because of Hawken’s ability to move silently at all times. In the same manner in which a very, very large man might be nicknamed “Mouse” or “Flea,” Billy Hawken had ever after been known as Crash.
There was no way, no way, Nell would ever consider becoming involved with a man—no matter how disgustingly handsome and intriguing—whose work associates called him “Crash.”
There was also no way she would ever consider becoming involved with a Navy SEAL. From what Nell understood, SEAL was synonymous with superman. The acronym itself stood for Sea, Air and Land, and SEALs were trained to operate with skill and efficiency in all three environments. Direct descendants from the UDTs or Underwater Demolition Teams of World War II, SEALs were experts in everything from gathering information to blowing things up.
They were Special Forces warriors who used unconventional methods and worked in small seven-or eight-man teams. Admiral Jake Robinson had been a SEAL in Vietnam. The stories he’d told were enough to convince Nell that becoming involved with a man like Crash would be sheer insanity.
Of course, she was failing to consider one important point as she made these sweeping statements. The man in question had barely even said four words to her. No wait—he’d said five words the first time they’d met. “Pleased to meet you, Nell.” He had a quiet, richly resonant voice that matched his watchful demeanor damn near perfectly. When he’d said her name, she’d come closer to melting into a pathetic pool of quivering protoplasm at his feet than she’d ever done in her life.
The second time they’d met, that was when he’d said four words. “Nice seeing you again.” The other times, he’d merely nodded.
In other words, it wasn’t as if he was breaking down her door, trying to get a date.
And he certainly wasn’t doing anything as ridiculous as not only counting the number of times they’d met, but adding up the total number of words she’d ever said to him.
With any luck, he wouldn’t even be home.
But then, of course, she’d have to come back.
Daisy and her longtime, live-in lover, Jake Robinson, had invited Crash out to the farm for dinner several times over the past few weeks. But each time he’d cancelled.
Nell had made this trip into the city to tell him that he must come. Although he wasn’t their child by blood, Crash was the closest thing to a son both Daisy and Jake had ever had. And from what Daisy had told her, Nell knew that Crash considered them his family, too. From the time he was ten, he’d spent every summer and winter break from boarding school with the slightly eccentric pair. From the time his own mother had died, Daisy had opened her home and her heart to him.
But now Daisy had been diagnosed with an inoperable cancer, and she was in the very late stages of the disease. She didn’t want Crash to hear the news over the phone, and Jake was refusing to leave her side.
That had left Nell volunteering to handle the odious task.
Damn, what was she going to say?
“Hi, Billy, um, Bill, how are you? It’s Nell Burns…remember me?”
Crash stared at the woman standing out in the hallway, aware that he was wearing only a towel. He held the knot together with one hand while he pushed his wet hair up and out of his eyes with the other.
Nell laughed nervously, her eyes skimming his near-naked body before returning to his face. “No, you probably don’t know who I am, especially out of context this way. I work for—”
“My cousin, Daisy,” he said. “Of course I know who you are.”
“Daisy’s your cousin?” She was so genuinely surprised, she forgot to be nervous for a moment. “I didn’t realize you were actually related. I just though she was…I mean, that you were…”
The nervousness was back, and she waved her hands gracefully, in a gesture equivalent to a shrug.
“A stray she and Jake just happened to pick up?” he finished for her.
She tried to pretend that she wasn’t fazed, but with her fair coloring, Crash couldn’t miss the fact that she was blushing. Come to think of it, she’d started blushing the minute she’d realized he was standing there in only a towel.
A grown woman who still could blush. It was remarkable, really. And it was reason number five thousand and one on his list of reasons why he should stay far away from her.
She was too nice.
The very first time they’d met, the very first time Crash had looked into her eyes, his pulse had kicked into high gear. There was no doubt about it, it was a purely physical reaction. Jake had introduced him to Nell at some party Daisy had thrown. The instant he’d walked in, Crash had noticed Nell’s blond hair and her trim, slender figure, somehow enhanced by a fairly conservative little black dress. But up close, as he’d said hello, he’d gotten caught in those liquid, blue eyes. The next thing he knew, he was fantasizing about taking her by the hand, pulling her with him up the stairs, into one of the spare bedrooms, pinning her against the door and just…
The alarming part was that Crash knew the physical attraction he felt was extremely mutual. Nell had given him a look that he’d seen before, in other women’s eyes.
It was a look that said she wanted to play with fire. Or at least she thought she did. But there was no way he was going to seduce this girl that Jake and Daisy had spoken so highly of. She was too nice.
He couldn’t see more than a trace of that same look in her eyes now, though. She was incredibly nervous—and upset, he realized suddenly. She was standing there, looking as if she was fighting hard to keep from bursting into tears.
“I was hoping you’d have a few minutes to spare, to sit down and talk,” she told him. For someone so slight of build, she had a deceptively low, husky voice. It was unbelievably sexy. “Maybe go out and get a cup of coffee or…?”
“I’m not exactly dressed for getting coffee.”
“I could go.” She motioned over her shoulder toward the bank of beat-up elevators. “I can wait for you downstairs. Outside. While you get dressed.”
“This isn’t a very good neighborhood,” he said. “It’d be better if you came inside to wait.”
Crash opened the door wider and stepped back to let her in. She hesitated for several long seconds, and he crossed the idea that she was here to seduce him off his list of possible reasons why she’d come.
He wasn’t sure whether to feel disappointed or relieved.
She finally stepped inside, slipping off her yellow, flannel-lined slicker, hanging it by the hood on the doorknob. She was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt with a low, scooped collar that accentuated her honey-blond chinlength hair and her long, elegant neck. Her features were delicate—tiny nose, perfectly shaped lips—with the exception of her jawline, which was strong and stubbornly