Читать книгу A Little Bit Pregnant - Сьюзен Мэллери, Susan Mallery - Страница 11

Nicki stared into the full-length mirror and wondered if she was making a mistake. Yes, she wanted to impress Zane, but maybe she was going about it all wrong. She might be attractive and all that, but there was no way on earth her size-B breasts could compete in the major leagues. Zane dated women who were so top heavy they couldn’t walk straight.

She glanced from her reflection to her chest and back. In her closet was a black dress with a neckline that sank nearly to her navel. With some double stick tape and a very straight back, she could dazzle. But in a world of watermelons, who bothered with peaches? Maybe this choice was better. Simple, elegant and classy. Wasn’t that better than trying too hard?

Nicki wished desperately for a second opinion, but her mom was in another state and Ashley, Jeff’s wife, was busy getting herself ready. Besides, there wasn’t much her friend could tell her over the phone.

“You look great,” Nicki said in an effort to make herself feel better.

She knew she didn’t look bad at all. The shimmering bronze fabric of her dress draped beautifully. The loose boat-style neckline left her arms bare—arms that were toned. Folds of fabric hinted at the curves of her breasts without actually exposing them. Her skin was pale and she’d chosen to leave it bare, even her legs. Instead of panty hose, she’d smoothed on a lotion with a hint of glimmer.

One advantage of her wheelchair was she never had to worry about sore feet so she wore strappy impractical shoes that would have crippled anyone trying to walk. A cascade of curls that had taken nearly twenty minutes to arrange and spray into place tumbled down her back.

Had her date been anyone but Zane, she would have been pleased with her appearance. But seeing as it was him…She pressed a hand to her fluttering stomach and tried to think calming thoughts.

“Not a date,” she whispered. “This is not a date. It’s two friends hanging out together. But if it were a date…”

She allowed herself a minute or two of pure fantasy. Zane walking in the door, being so swept away that he pulled her into his arms and kissed her senseless. Then their clothes dissolved and they were making love on the rug in front of the fire.

Of course there were several problems with her fantasy. First of all, she was in a wheelchair and pulling her into his arms could be complicated. Second, the fireplace wasn’t lit, nor was there a rug in front of it. Somehow making love on a hardwood floor wasn’t very appealing.

Maybe she shouldn’t have attended that job fair after college. If she hadn’t met Jeff and been intrigued by his Ritter/Rankin Security, she would have pursued a post-graduate degree in psychology. With professional training she would be able to handle her crush on Zane. Of course if she’d gone to grad school she never would have met him and how gray her world would be without his light.

“Decisions, decisions,” she murmured as she wheeled out of her bedroom.

The doorbell rang just in time to offer a distraction. She headed in that direction and pulled it open.

She’d known Zane was going to pick her up—he’d insisted. And she’d been aware that by him coming to her house, she would be forced to look at him. She’d even told herself he would look good. Unfortunately she’d underestimated the situation by about forty-five percent.

He didn’t look good, he looked amazing. While he usually wore suits at work, the one he had on tonight was more elegant or better tailored or something. The smooth gray fabric brought out the depth of his eyes and made his shoulders look about two miles wide. He’d showered, shaved and wore the burgundy and silver tie she’d given him for Christmas the previous year.

Her brain registered all that before she noticed the spray of flowers he held in one hand. And not just flowers. Nothing traditional like roses or carnations. Instead Zane held several stalks of delicately beautiful orchids. The pale creamy petals were alabaster, tinged with muted green.

“Hey, Nicki,” Zane said as he stepped into her entryway. “You look beautiful, but I expected that.” He handed her the flowers. “I chose these because they reminded me of you.”

As he bent toward her, he brushed her cheek with his mouth. Tingles shot through her like out-of-control fireworks.

She couldn’t think, couldn’t move. Fortunately, it didn’t matter if she swayed a little. She was already sitting down and if she collapsed in a heap, the floor wasn’t that far away.

“hank you,” she murmured, not sure if she meant the flowers, the compliment or his presence. Maybe she meant it for all of them.

“Shall we put these in water before we go?” he asked.

She nodded and led the way to the kitchen.

The room had been customized with lower cabinets and nothing essential above the countertop. As she didn’t get many flowers, the vases were stored in an upper cabinet. She pointed to the right one and Zane got a container down for her. After filling it with water, he retrieved the flowers and set them in the vase.

“They’re lovely,” she said.

He winked. “Do I know my moves or what?”

“You’re a pro,” she told him, and meant it. He was a man who knew his way around women. Okay, so they were just friends going out to a work party. But maybe she could allow herself to live in the fantasy for a few hours and pretend this was all real. As long as she didn’t get her heart engaged, what could it hurt?

She smiled at him. “You’re wearing my tie.”

“I know.” He touched the length of silk. “Maybe later you could let me tie you up with it.” He wiggled his eyebrows as he spoke.

She laughed and tapped her chair. “I’m at enough of a disadvantage already.”

“Want to tie me up instead?”

More than he could know. “I’ll think about it,” she said instead.

He followed her to the front door. When she wheeled out she was surprised to see an SUV parked at the curb.

“You couldn’t possibly have traded your car in on that,” she said. “Is it a rental?”

“Nope. I borrowed it from Ashley. Pretty slick, huh?”

It was more than slick. It was a regular car, which meant there was no way she could get inside on her own. Before Nicki could worry about the awkwardness of the moment, Zane had opened the passenger door and scooped her into his arms. He lifted her into the seat.

For the moment, they were at eye level. In the overhead interior light she could see the flecks of gold and amber that sparkled in his dark brown irises. There was a tiny scar by the corner of his mouth and shadows hollowing his cheekbones.

All she could think was that she wanted him to kiss her. Which was crazy, so what she said instead was, “You didn’t have to borrow her car. I could have driven.”

Zane pulled the seat belt around her and clicked it into place. “No way. On a date, guys drive.”

“That is wildly sexist.”

He winked. “I know.”

The door closed and he moved to the rear of the vehicle where he collapsed her wheelchair and slid it into the back. When he sat next to her, he grinned.

“Is this the most fun you’ve had in weeks or what?”

She knew she should have answered “Or what.” At the very least she should have acted bored, mentioned Boyd or pretended none of this mattered. Instead she found herself a quivering mass of Zane-lust weakened female hormones.

“It’s pretty fun,” she admitted.

His smile turned promising. “There’s more.”

Nicki had never been much of a drinker, but she was a sucker for the occasional glass of champagne. And when it was expensive and served in an actual crystal glass, how could she say no? So she sat in her chair and sipped, while enjoying herself at the party.

There were about forty people in attendance, half of them the staff from Ritter/Rankin Security while the other half were employees of their host.

A few months ago Al Morgan had come to Zane and Jeff after his firm was targeted by a foreign group trying to steal proprietary technology. A sting had been hatched, the culprits apprehended and all was well. The party was a big thank-you to the security firm.

“More?” Zane asked, nodding at her half-full glass.

Nicki shook her head. “I don’t like to get too buzzed. You know what they say about drinking and driving.” She tapped the arm of her wheelchair as she spoke.

Zane smiled. “I could be your designated driver. I think you’d look cute drunk.” He leaned close. “A few sexy moves in that dress and you’d cause a riot.”

His low, velvet voice brushed against her bare skin and made her want to swoon. He’d been at it all night—staying close, teasing in the most delicious way, gazing at her as if she were the only woman in the room. While she liked the attention, even as she knew it was dangerous to see it as significant, she couldn’t help wondering why he was doing it. Bringing her flowers was one thing, but actually spending the evening in date mode was something else.

“Move over big guy,” Ashley Ritter said as she walked up to the sofa.

Zane stood. “I’ll grab us some food,” he said, then leaned toward Ashley and kissed her on the cheek. “You’re radiant as always.”

“If you think that shamelessly flattering your partner’s wife is going to influence how I talk about you, you’re right,” she said as she settled on the sofa. “Bring me back anything salty please.”

He nodded and headed for the buffet. Nicki frowned at her friend. “Aren’t you supposed to be watching sodium? Didn’t you swell up like a balloon when you were pregnant with Michael?”

Jeff’s wife wrinkled her nose, then brushed back her dark hair. “Thanks so much for reminding me.”

“I’m your friend. I worry.”

Ashley sighed. “I know I have to watch my diet but in the past couple of days I’ve been like a cow without a salt lick. Desperate.” Her hazel eyes danced with amusement. “But enough about the oddities of my pregnant self. What’s going on with you? Since when did Zane start escorting you to parties and hanging on your every word and why didn’t you call and tell me he’d finally seen the light?”

Nicki instinctively turned to make sure Zane was safely across the room and not within hearing distance. “It’s not like that,” she said, her voice low. “Boyd couldn’t make it tonight and Zane offered to bring me. Nothing more.”

“That’s not what it looks like to me, young lady.”

Nicki sighed. “He’s on date patrol or something, but it doesn’t mean anything.”

Ashley’s expression turned sympathetic. She leaned close. “I know you’re convinced he couldn’t possibly be interested in you because he only dates bubbleheads, but I think you should tell him the truth about your feelings and give this whole thing a chance. Zane is a lot like Jeff—there’s plenty concealed beneath the surface. The difference is Jeff hid himself behind the walls of being a warrior while Zane chooses a more charming facade. But that doesn’t change the reality. They’re both hiding the real man.”

“Who is the real Zane?” Nicki asked. “Sometimes I think I catch glimpses of him when we’re hanging out together. He lets his guard down, which I appreciate. But there’s no telling that the inner Zane will be any more interested in me than the outer one.”

“You could try to find out.”

A good plan, Nicki thought, except she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. Not if the answer was negative.

Ashley read her expression. “So go another route,” her friend suggested. “Find out about the secrets he hides. Why does he pursue young women with minimal IQs?”

“Because they’re easy.”

Ashley chuckled. “Tell him you could be, too. And if you do see him naked, I want a full report.”

Nicki grinned. “You always say that but if I ever try to give you details, you can’t stand to hear them.”

“I know. I get shy.”

Nicki thought about the affectionate glances she’d seen between Ashley and Jeff, and the very hot kiss she’d accidentally interrupted one afternoon at the office.

“Not with Jeff,” she said.

Ashley sighed. Her expression softened and her gaze sought out her husband. “No, not with Jeff,” she agreed.

Zane grabbed a fresh glass of champagne from the server’s tray and handed it to Nicki. She took the offered drink.

“Hmm, why do I know this puts me over my limit?” she asked.

He winked.

“You’re trying to get me drunk.”

“I’ll admit the thought crossed my mind,” he told her.

“I wouldn’t have thought you would have to resort to cheap tricks with your dates.”

“I don’t,” he said smugly. “The women I go out with fall at my feet.”

“Easier for me to do that than most, but don’t hold your breath.”

She grinned as she spoke, then sipped her drink. Zane tucked a loose curl behind her ear.

Laughter brightened her eyes. He’d always found her attractive, but dressed to kill she was stunning.

He’d seen her legs countless times—in the gym, when she wore shorts in the summer. He was used to the long, lean length of thigh and calf. He barely noticed the faint crisscrossing of scars that patterned her right leg. She kept herself in shape and he’d always been man enough to appreciate the curves.

But tonight something was different. Maybe it was the length of her skirt—the way the filmy fabric barely covered the tops of her thighs. Maybe it was the faint glow of her skin, or the fact that when he’d lifted her into the SUV his hand had cupped bare, warm flesh. Whatever the reason, he couldn’t stop looking at her legs…or wanting to touch them.

He knew she could feel everything. Her being in a wheelchair wasn’t about being paralyzed. So if he stroked his fingers from ankle to knee, then knee to thigh, she would feel every millimeter of contact. And then what? Would she lean toward him, her mouth parting in welcome? Would her breathing quicken as she—

“Zane?”

Nicki’s voice called him back to the party.

He blinked and forced his mind away from her body. “What?”

“You had the oddest expression on your face. What on earth were you thinking about?”

He was saved from coming up with a lie by the arrival of their host. Al Morgan pulled a chair up next to Nicki and sat down.

“How are you doing?” the gray-haired man said as he took Nicki’s free hand in his.

She smiled. “I’m great.”

Al studied her. “We’ve been doing some work with various metal alloys. It’s all hush-hush stuff for the government, but it will have industrial applications. I was wondering—”

Nicki cut him off with a quick shake of her head. “You’re a sweetie for thinking of me, Al, but no.”

“Hear me out,” he told her. “We’re talking very strong but extremely lightweight. You’d barely know they were there.”

“Braces are still braces.”

“But you’d be walking.”

Her smile was patient. “The two-legged thing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Believe me, I’ve tried it.” She released his hand and tapped his knee. “Walking is what you know and I appreciate that you want that kind of freedom for me. But shuffling along in braces is slow and awkward.”

Al didn’t look convinced. “There are medical advances every day.”

“I agree and I have a doctor who keeps on top of that sort of thing. I trust her completely, but despite miracles, some things can’t be healed. I learned that when I broke my legs.” She smiled ruefully. “The left one was so bad, even one of the ski patrol rescue guys passed out when he saw the bones sticking out. There was no way the bones could heal correctly. Walking was still a possibility because my right leg would be okay.”

She paused. Zane knew the story, knew how she’d struggled all those years ago. She’d been fourteen when her world had crashed in on her.

“Then I got a bone infection,” she continued. “It took months to heal and when it did, the bones in my right leg had been weakened to the point where they could never support my weight.”

“With physical therapy—” Al started.

Nicki cut him off. “With physical therapy I can use braces. I can be upright and so what? It’s hard work, not to mention painful. In my chair, I’m completely mobile.”

“She’s hell on wheels,” Zane told Al. “Trust me—I’ve been run over.”

She smiled at him. “Only when you’re getting on my nerves.” She turned back to Al. “I can walk with braces and a walker, I choose not to. A wheelchair beats the step-drag thing in my book.”

Al didn’t look convinced but he nodded. “If I can change your mind,” he said.

“You can’t.”

She changed the subject to how his oldest daughter was doing at college. When Al was called away to look after his other guests, Zane touched her arm.

“Are you okay with him interfering?”

“Sure. He’s doing it because he cares about me.” She smiled. “I like that in a man.”

Zane had always admired Nicki’s courage and temperament. He found himself wanting to say that he cared, too.

“If he brings it up again, I’ll go into more detail,” she said. “Al sees me now, years after the accident. But if he’d been around when it happened, he would understand how far I’ve come.”

She sipped her champagne. “Back then I would have agreed with him. I was determined to walk again, no matter how difficult it was or how much it hurt. When my parents bought me my first wheelchair, I saw it as a defeat. No way I was going to give in. Then one day I sat in it and I was amazed at how lightweight it was and how easily I could move around. Once I figured out I could outrun anyone and be involved in sports, I never looked back.”

Typical, he thought proudly. Nicki wasn’t a quitter. “Do you still have braces?”

“Sure, but I rarely use them. A friend from college got married and I was a bridesmaid. I used the braces so I could stand up with the rest of the wedding party, but I didn’t try walking down the aisle in them. Back in high school and college I would take them to dances so I could shuffle around the floor with my date.” She grinned. “Sometimes I let the guys take them off. That always got them really excited.”

Young men unbuckling cool metal from her smooth, warm thighs? He could understand the attraction.

He pretended shock. “You let them feel you up?”

“Of course.”

“Did your mother know?”

She rolled her eyes. “Someone with your dating history is in no position to be judgmental. Besides, my prom date didn’t get much more than a quick feel. I’m guessing your prom date offered you a chance to score.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t go to my prom. I was in a high school boot camp, paying my debt to society.”

“You’re kidding? What had you done?”

He shrugged. “Got caught in stolen truck with a few dozen TVs that didn’t belong to me.”

“No way.”

“I was a wild kid.”

She leaned close. “Okay, start at the beginning and talk slowly. I want details.”

“No way.” He held up his glass. “I’d have to be a whole lot more drunk than this to spill that story.”

She raised her arm to flag a waiter. He caught her hand and pulled it down.

“I’m driving, Nicki. One’s my limit.”

“How annoying. I’m going to have to lure you to my place then, with plans to get you drunk and worm the truth out of you.”

He considered all the possibilities that went along with that and knew he should back off. Nicki was a friend—he didn’t want that to change. Still he found himself agreeing to her plan, and anticipating the event.