In The Enemy's Embrace. Mindy Neff
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sight of her ruined building sent another sickening tremor through her. “Since when are you in the hotel business?”
He slanted her a look. “Play on words, Red. I’ve got plenty of suites in my place. You’ll be more comfortable there than at a hotel.”
Jessica wasn’t so sure about that. The words comfortable and Nick Grayson didn’t coexist peacefully in her vocabulary. Right now, though, she was too tired to put up much of a fuss.
It was an effort to act tough, but she couldn’t afford to let down her guard. Not with Nick.
She rested her head against the leather seat. Soft country music played on the stereo system. The lights on the dashboard looked sophisticated and complicated, yet pretty against the dark night. She shut her eyes as they wound through downtown Dallas, then left the city lights far behind as they traveled down a four-lane highway divided by a grassy median strip.
She heard the rustle of denim and cotton sliding against leather, knew he’d turned to look at her. She kept her eyes lowered. There was a time when she would have given her prize Arabian mare to be sitting next to Nick Grayson in his car, to have him be the dashing knight who’d come rushing to her rescue.
That seemed like a lifetime ago. She’d been a girl of thirteen and he’d been a worldly man of twenty-one. Even now, her face heated when she thought of that embarrassing day he’d come out to the Desert Rose Ranch. She’d been filled with a young girl’s dreams, infatuated with this older boy, watched him, pined for him, ached for him to notice her as only a young girl in her first crush can ache.
He’d been sweet to her, and that was all it had taken for her to tumble head over heels. She’d been so sure of herself, feeling older now that she was a teen, certain that Nick Grayson would fall madly in lust with her, promise her undying love, promise to wait for her forever. She’d built up the scenario, dreamed it so often it had become real to her.
That had made his abrupt rejection all the more humiliating.
Feeling the familiar shame flutter in her stomach at the memory, she banished the thought and sat up straighter, looking around as he drove through a set of private gates supported by brick pillars. White wood fences glowed in the moonlight, reminding her of home, of the paddocks that held million-dollar Arabian champions. Where the Desert Rose was built in a Spanish architectural style, Nick’s house was a scaled-down version of Southfork—the estate made famous by the long-running TV series Dallas.
“I guess our daddies pay you pretty well,” she mused aloud.
He shot her a frowning look. “I work hard for the salary the company pays me.”
Hmmm. She’d hit a nerve. She could practically hear his thoughts, the words he was civilized enough not to tack on. I work hard for the salary the company pays me…unlike you.
Perhaps his touchiness had something to do with the fact that the Coleman half of the partnership owned fifty-one percent of the voting stock, leaving the Graysons a mere forty-nine. Technically she had more clout than he did, but she decided not to poke at that particular sore tonight. She wasn’t at her best. And to keep one step ahead of Nick Grayson, she needed to be at her best.
He stopped the car in the circular driveway beneath a porte-cochere and shut off the engine. A warm breeze lifted her hair as she got out of the car. Cicadas and crickets harmonized with the deeper hum of tree frogs, the sound pressing in on her ears.
She shivered. She’d grown up on a ranch, dealt with snakes and all manner of varmints, yet the thought of thousands of huge insects and critters blending in with the trees, watching her with their buggy eyes, gave her the creeps.
“You cold?” Nick asked as he reached past her to open the front door.
“No. It’s those stupid locusts. I think they deliberately antagonize me because they can sense I don’t like them.”
A corner of his mouth kicked up. “I don’t think you can go anywhere in Texas and get away from them.”
“No place that has trees, that’s for sure.” She ducked under his outstretched arm and crossed the threshold to the foyer. A fortune in marble paved the floor, flowing like polished glass until it met the thick carpet of an enormous living room.
Jessica was impressed despite herself. Heck, she came from a wealthy family. But the layout of Nick’s home was breathtaking.
A solid wall of windows beckoned her farther into the room, where comfortable leather furniture cohabited nicely with priceless antiques. Doors opened onto a patio, where subtle lighting turned the swimming pool into a fantasy-like paradise.
Unable to resist, she walked right out the doors, drawn by the water, and inhaled the scent of chlorine and the sweet perfume of honeysuckle vines.
He switched on the patio and yard lights, and Jessica was further awed. Manicured lawns, shaded by mature oak and elm trees, sloped down to a tranquil lake where a wooden dock extended out into the water. A sporty powerboat was moored at one side of the dock, tied to cleats and protected by bright orange buoys.
She turned to Nick, raised a brow. “A swimming pool and a lake?”
Hands in his pockets, he stood several feet away as though he didn’t trust himself to come any closer. “I swim in the pool and fish in the lake.”
“Ah, a man who knows how to bring home dinner.”
He was silent, watching her as though she were a bobcat ready to pounce. She clearly made him nervous, and Jessica found this a delicious turn of events. She was no longer the thirteen-year-old girl with a mad crush, the girl who’d been humiliated when her kiss had been rebuffed. With her now twenty-five, the eight-year age difference put them in a completely different playing field.
And judging by the hungry look in his eyes, she had the home advantage.
“We should probably go in before the mosquitoes start biting,” he said, his hands still in his pockets, his dark gaze trained on her.
“Vitamin B. I take it religiously and they never munch on me.” Because it was past midnight and they were both a little punchy from the drama of the evening, she preceded him into the house and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the darkened windows when he turned off the outside lights.
For pity’s sake. In all the hoopla, she’d completely forgotten that she still wore her Victoria’s Secret pajamas. Oh, they were modest enough, thin sweatpants in a pink-and-red heart pattern and a matching tank top. Looking down, she noticed the insoles of her sandals were imprinted with toe-shaped smudges from the water and soot remnants of the fire.
She yelped and jumped up onto the fireplace hearth.
Nick took an immediate step forward, switching on the overhead lights, his gaze scanning the floor. “What?” He nearly shouted the word.
She knew he was imagining they’d let a critter in through the open doors, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. At this point, a bout of laughter might well turn into that hysteria she’d been worrying about earlier. “My feet are dirty.”
“Your…”
She held up a foot, letting her white sandal dangle from her toes. Even her gold toe ring was tarnished black. “I hope I didn’t track this mess on your beautiful carpet.”
“The rugs can be cleaned, Red. My heart’s not so easily repaired.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to shake you up. And why do you keep scowling at me like that?”
“I’m not scowling.”
She rolled her eyes. “Look in the mirror, why don’t you. And while you’re at it, could you bring me a towel so I can rake some of this gunk off my feet? Honestly, I should have jumped in the pool while I was out there.”
“I can give you a hand if you like.”
She looked at him and laughed. “A push,