Читать книгу A Forbidden Affair - Yvonne Lindsay - Страница 4

Nicole’s hands shook uncontrollably as she tried to fit her key into the ignition. Damn, she dropped it again. She swiped the key ring up off the floor of her classic Benz, and gave up driving as a bad joke. If she couldn’t even get the key in the ignition, how on earth did she expect to drive?

She got out of the car, slammed the door hard and swiped her cell phone from her bag. Thank goodness she’d had the presence of mind to grab the designer leather pouch from the hall table after her grand exit from the family dinner to end all family dinners.

Her high heels clipped a staccato beat as she marched down the well-lit driveway of her family home to the street, calling a taxi service as she went. Fine tremors shook her body as she waited for the car to arrive. The chill air of the autumn night made her glad she hadn’t had a chance to change out of her tailored wool suit when she’d arrived home from work earlier.

Her father had requested that she dress up for dinner in honor of a special announcement he’d planned to make, but by the time she’d gotten home, there just hadn’t been enough time. She hadn’t thought her father would mind that she’d chosen to put in the extra time at the office instead of rushing home to get ready. After all, if anyone should understand her drive to devote her time and energy to Wilson Wines then surely it would be Charles Wilson, founder and CEO. Her father had invested most of his life into the business he had built, and she’d always intended to follow in his footsteps.

Until tonight.

Another rush of anger infused her. How dare her father belittle her like that, and in front of a virtual stranger, as well? Who cared if that stranger was her long-lost brother, Judd. Two and a half decades after their parents’ bitter divorce had split their family in half, what right did he have to come back and lay claim to the responsibilities that were supposed to be hers? She clenched her jaw tight and bit back the scream of frustration that threatened to claw its way out of her throat. She couldn’t lose it now. Not when she had just discovered that she was the only person she had left to rely on.

Even her best friend, colleague and life-long confidante, Anna, had shown her true colors when she’d arrived home in New Zealand from Adelaide, Australia, late last week with Judd in tow. Sure, she’d tried to convince Nicole that she’d only been following Charles’s orders to find Judd and bring about a reconciliation, but Nicole knew where Anna’s loyalties lay, and they certainly weren’t with her. If they were, Anna wouldn’t have kept the truth from her about what Charles planned to use as Judd’s incentive.

A painful twist in her chest reminded her to draw in a breath but despite the fact she obeyed her body’s demand to refill her lungs, the pain of betrayal by her best friend—the woman she loved like a sister—still lingered. How could Anna have known what was going to happen and not given her prior warning?

In her bag, her phone began to chirp insistently. Thinking it might be the taxi company calling back to confirm her details, she lifted it to her ear and answered it.

“Nicole, where are you? Are you okay?”

Anna. Who else? It certainly wouldn’t be her father calling to see if she was all right.

“I’m fine,” Nicole answered, her voice clipped.

“You’re not fine, you’re upset. I can hear it in your voice. Look, I’m sorry about tonight—”

“Just tonight, Anna? What about your trip to Adelaide? What about bringing my brother home for the first time in twenty-five years, so he could take everything that was ever mine away from me?” Even Anna’s gasp of pain at Nicole’s accusations didn’t stop Nicole’s tirade or do anything to lessen the hurt of betrayal that rocketed through her veins right now. “I thought we were friends, sisters by choice, remember?”

“I couldn’t tell you what Charles had planned, Nicole. Please believe me. Your dad swore me to secrecy and I owe him so very much. Without his support of me and my mum … you know what he was like … even when she was dying—”

“His support, huh?” Nicole shut her eyes tight and squeezed back the fresh round of tears that fought to escape. “What about your support of me?”

“You always have that, Nic, you know that.”

“Really? Then why didn’t you give me a heads-up? Why didn’t you tell me that he was going to bribe Judd to stay by giving him my home as well as the business?”

“Only half the business,” Anna’s voice came quietly over the line.

“A controlling share, Anna. That’s the whole business as far as I’m concerned.”

The shock of her father’s announcement had been bad enough. Worse was the way he’d justified the decision to give everything to Judd instead of her. Just you wait, he had said, you’ll find some young man who’ll sweep you off your feet and before I know it you will be married and raising a family. Wilson Wines will just be a hobby for you. Years of hard work, of dedication and commitment to the business and to further her father’s plans and dreams dismissed as just a phase, a passing fad. The thought of it made her blood boil.

“Dad made it quite clear where I stand in all this, and by aligning yourself with him, you’ve made it quite clear where you stand, too.”

Nicole paced back and forth on the pavement at the end of the driveway, filled with a nervous energy that desperately needed an outlet. Anna’s voice remained steady in her ear; the sound of her friend’s voice was usually a calming influence but tonight it was anything but.

“He put me in an impossible position, Nic. I begged him to talk to you about this, to at least tell you that Judd would be coming home.”

“Obviously you didn’t beg hard enough. Or, here’s something to consider, maybe you could have just told me, anyway. You could have picked up a phone or fired me an email in warning. It’s not that hard to do. You had to know what this would mean to me, how much it would hurt me. And still you did nothing?”

“I’m so sorry, Nic. If I could do it over I’d do it differently, you have to know that.”

“I don’t know anything anymore, Anna. That’s the trouble. Everything I’ve worked for, everything I’ve lived for, has just been handed to a man I don’t even know. I don’t even know if I have a roof over my head now that Dad’s given the deed of the family house to Judd. How would that make you feel? Have you asked yourself that?”

A sweep of lights coming down the road heralded the taxi she’d summoned, and not a moment too soon. She had enough dander up right now to march back on up the driveway and give her father a piece of her mind all over again—for whatever good it would do.

“Look,” she continued, “I’ve got to go. I need some space right now to think things over.”

“Nicole, come back. Let’s talk this out face-to-face.”

“No,” Nicole answered as the cab pulled up alongside the curb. “I’m done talking. Please don’t call me again.”

She disconnected the call and switched off her phone for good measure before throwing it into the bottom of her bag.

“Viaduct Basin,” she instructed as she got into the taxi and settled in the darkened interior with her equally dark thoughts.

Hopefully the vibrant atmosphere at the array of bars and clubs in downtown Auckland would provide her with the distraction she needed. Nicole repaired her tear-stained makeup as well as she could with the limited cosmetics in her bag. It annoyed the heck out of her that anger, for her, usually resulted in tears, as well. It was an awkward combination that plagued her on the rare occasions she actually lost her temper, and it made it hard for her to be taken seriously.

She willed her hand to be steady as she applied a rich red lip gloss and gave herself a final check in her compact mirror.

Satisfied she’d done her best with her makeup, she sat back against the soft upholstery of the luxury taxi and tried to ignore the echo of her father’s words, the faintly smug paternal tone that seemed to say that she’d soon get over her temper tantrum and realize he was right all along.

“Over my dead body,” she muttered.

“Pardon, miss, what was that you said?” the neatly suited taxi driver asked over his shoulder.

“Nothing, sorry, just talking to myself.”

She shook her head and blinked hard at the fresh tears that pricked in her eyes. In doing what her father had done he’d permanently damaged his relationship with her, fractured the trust between her and Anna, and virtually destroyed any chance of her and Judd building a sibling bond together. She had no family she could rely on anymore—not her father, her brother, her sister and certainly not her mother. Nicole had not seen or heard from her mother since Cynthia Masters-Wilson had taken Judd back to her native Australia when he was six and Nicole only one year old.

Nicole had long since convinced herself she’d never wanted to know her mother growing up. Her father had been everything and everyone she’d ever needed. But even as a child, she’d always been able to tell that she wasn’t enough to make up for the wife and son that her father still missed. It had driven Nicole to work harder, to be a top student and to learn everything she could about the family business, in the hopes of winning her father’s approval, making him proud. Goodness only knew running Wilson Wines was all she’d ever wanted to do from the moment she’d understood just what held the balance of her father’s attention every day.

Now that Judd was back, it was as if she didn’t exist anymore. As if she never had.

Nicole reached up to remove the hair tie that had held her hair in its no-nonsense, businesslike ponytail all day, and shoved her fingers through her hair to tousle it out into party mode. She would not let her father’s actions beat her. Once she’d worked this upset out of her system she’d figure out a way to fix things. Until then, she was going to enjoy herself.

She alighted from the taxi and paid the driver then undid the top button of her suit jacket, exposing a glimpse of the gold-and-black satin-and-lace bra she wore beneath it. There, she thought defiantly, from business woman to party girl in one easy step. Squaring her shoulders, Nicole headed into the first bar on the strip. Oblivion had never looked better.

Nate leaned against the bar and watched the pulsing throng of bodies on the dance floor with disinterest. He’d only agreed to come along tonight for Raoul’s sake. Hosting the guy’s stag party was small recompense for the work Raoul had done holding Jackson Importers together after Nate’s father’s sudden death last year. Knowing the running of the business was in Raoul’s very capable hands until Nate could return to New Zealand to pick up the reins had been a massive relief. Extricating himself from Jackson Importers’ European office and appointing a replacement there had taken time, and he owed the guy big for stepping up to the plate.

His philanthropy didn’t assuage his boredom, however, and Nate was on the verge of saying his goodbyes and making his way home when she caught his eye. The woman moved on the dance floor with a sensuous grace that sent a spiraling swell of primal male interest through his body. She was dressed as if she’d come from the office, although he’d never seen any of his staff look that good in a suit. Her jacket was unbuttoned just enough to give a tantalizing view of creamy feminine swells of flesh supported by sexy black satin and gold lace, and while her skirt wasn’t exactly short, her long legs and spiky heels certainly made it look that way.

He felt a familiar twinge in his groin. All of a sudden, heading out to his home on the ocean side of the Waitakere Ranges wasn’t his top priority anymore—at least not immediately and, hopefully, not alone.

Nate cut through the throng of seething bodies to get nearer. There was something familiar about her but he couldn’t place it immediately. Her long dark hair swung around her face as she moved to the beat of the music and he imagined it swinging in other areas, gliding over his body. Oh, yes, definitely gliding over his body—or even spread across the starkness of his Egyptian cotton sheets while he glided across hers. He clenched and unclenched his jaw as every cell in his body responded to the visual image.

He let the beat of the music infuse him and eased in beside her. “Hi, can I join in?” he asked with a smile.

“Sure,” she replied, before flicking her hair from her face and exposing dark eyes a man could lose himself in, and a delectably red-painted mouth that was made for pure sin.

They danced awhile, their bodies moving in synchronicity—close, but not touching. The air between them was incendiary. Would they move in such unison alone together, too?

Another dancer jostled past, knocking her against his chest. His hands whipped up to steady her and she looked up into his eyes with a smile that started slowly before spreading wide.

“My hero,” she said, with a wicked gleam in her dark eyes.

He found his mouth curving in response. “I can be whatever you want me to be,” he said, bending his head slightly and putting his mouth to the shell of her ear.

She quivered in his arms. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Thank you,” she said, so softly he almost couldn’t hear her over the noise around them. “I could do with a dose of anything right now.”

She draped her arms over his shoulders, the fingers of one hand playing with his hair where it sat at the nape of his neck. Her touch did crazy things to him. Things that made him want to do nothing more than take her out of here and transport her to his home, his bed.

Nate wasn’t into one-night stands. Aside from the fact his mother had drilled respect for women into him from an early age, he’d never been that kind of guy. Nate liked to plan, to calculate all the angles—spontaneity wasn’t really his strong suit, especially in his private life. He knew how important it was to be cautious, to keep people at a distance until you were sure of their motives. But there was something about the girl in his arms that made him want to take a chance.

He looked down into her face and recognition began to dawn. Suddenly he knew why she’d seemed familiar. She was Nicole Wilson—none other than Charles Wilson’s daughter, and the second in command at Wilson Wines. Her picture had been in the dossier of information he’d asked Raoul to gather on the competition’s business—and most especially on the man who had once been his father, Thomas’s, closest and oldest friend. Charles Wilson, who had—after an angry row, rife with false accusations—subsequently become Thomas’s bitterest rival.

Once, when he’d been a turbulent teen, Nate had promised his father he’d seek revenge for what Charles Wilson had done. Thomas, ever the peacemaker, had told him he was to do no such thing while Thomas still drew breath. Sadly now, his father was dead—not so sadly, all bets, in relation to Charles Wilson, were off.

Nate wasn’t normally one to deliver on the sins of the father, but tonight’s potential now took on a whole other edge. He’d been biding his time with Charles Wilson. Accumulating information, and planning his strategy carefully. But even if it hadn’t been part of his plans, he wasn’t about to ignore the opportunity that had just dropped into his arms.

A waft of Nicole’s fragrance drifted off her heated body and teased his nose. The scent was rich and spicy, very much, he suspected, like the woman he held—their bodies moving in unison, undulating to the beat of the music that thrummed around them.

Nate didn’t hide the arousal he felt for her. What was the point? If this didn’t work out, then there’d be no foul. His plans would carry on regardless. But if it did, if she was responding to him the same way he reacted to her, his plans for revenge against Charles Wilson would take a very interesting turn indeed.

Nicole knew she’d had too much to drink tonight, and she knew full well that she should call another taxi to take her home. After all, it was only Thursday and she still had work tomorrow. At least, she thought she still had work tomorrow.

Thinking about work made her head hurt and the idea of returning to the house tonight just tied her stomach in knots and reminded her again of her father’s low opinion of her. Earlier, she’d blocked out that reminder with a shot, and then another, egged on by a group of acquaintances she’d barely seen since she’d graduated from university and whom she could hardly call friends. Still, their lively and undemanding company tonight had been just what she sought. No questions, no answers. Just being lost in the moment. And right at this moment she was feeling very lost indeed. Lost in the undeniable attraction between two healthy young people in their prime.

Very little separated her and her dance partner and as her lower body brushed against him again, a classic Mae West line ran through her alcohol-clouded mind. She couldn’t stifle the giggle that bubbled up from inside.

“Care to share the joke?”

She pressed her lips together and shook her head. There was no way she was sharing that little snippet.

“Then you have to pay a forfeit—you know that, don’t you?”

“A forfeit?” she asked, her lips spreading into a smile once more. “Surely you can’t punish a girl for being happy?”

“I wasn’t thinking of a punishment,” he said.

She should be laughing at the line he’d just uttered, she told herself, yet, for some reason, a wicked coil of lust tightened inside her.

“Oh?” she managed through lips that she suddenly felt the urge to moisten with the tip of her tongue. “What were you thinking of?”

“This,” he said.

She didn’t have time to think, or room to move had she even wanted to dodge him, as he lowered his lips to hers. Lips that were unexpectedly cool and firm. Lips that sampled, tasted and teased her own.

The tight sensation inside her spread, tingling through her body like a slow-building charge of electricity, sensitizing her hidden places, draining her mind of any awareness of her surroundings. All she could think of, all she wanted to think of, was the touch of his mouth on hers. Of the delicious pressure of his body as his hands on her hips gathered her closer.

They continued to move to the music—her pelvis rolling against his, her awareness of his arousal becoming a hunger for more than the illicit touch of bodies through clothing. A moan built deep in her throat, a moan she fought to keep inside as he lifted his mouth from hers.

She swallowed and opened her eyes. In this light it was difficult to tell what color his eyes were, but they were definitely unusual and their hooded stare captured her and held her mesmerized. Didn’t certain beasts of prey do the same? Was she about to be devoured? The thought didn’t upset her as much as it should. God, she had to pull herself together.

“So, that’s a forfeit, huh?” she asked, her voice thick with desire.

“It’s just one of many.”

“Intriguing.”

Intriguing wasn’t the word. His kiss had totally fried her synapses. It was all she could do to prevent herself from dragging his face down to hers again and repeating the experience. Once more with feeling, she thought, although she certainly hadn’t been devoid of feeling while he’d been kissing her. For that moment in time she’d forgotten everything. Who she was, why she was here, what she had left to look forward to.

She’d liked that. She’d liked it a whole lot. She wanted to do it again.

“Hey, Nic!”

One of her acquaintances, Amy, appeared at her side and her dance partner released her. She instantly rued the loss of contact.

Her friend shouted to be heard over the music. “We’re off to another club, you coming?”

Nicole’s usual prudence screamed “safety in numbers” at the back of her mind, but tonight she wasn’t in the mood to be prudent at all.

“No, I’m fine. I’ll get a taxi home later.”

“Okay. Hey, it was cool catching up again. Let’s not leave it so long next time.”

And then Amy was gone with the crowd she’d been hanging with.

“Are you sure you didn’t want to go with your friends?” her dance partner asked.

“No, I’m fine. I’m a big girl, I can look after myself,” Nicole answered.

“I’m pleased to hear it. I’m Nate, by the way.”

“Nicole,” she answered shortly, happy to keep their introductions brief as she threw herself back into the thrum and energy of the DJ’s latest sound selection.

She was distracted by the flash of someone’s camera, no doubt someone’s shenanigans would be broadcast on some social networking site tomorrow, but before long her focus was solely on the man in front of her. Boy, but he could move. Some guys just looked as if they were trying too hard on the dance floor but for him, movement came very naturally. And he was so good to look at, too.

His hair was dark, but not as dark as her near-black tresses, and his face was both masculine and had a refined elegance at the same time. And those lips—she was very keen for a repeat of what they had to offer.

“Do I pass muster?” he asked, one corner of his mouth twisting upward.

She smiled in response. “You’ll do.”

He laughed and the sound went straight to her toes, making them curl in delight. Was there anything about him that wasn’t gorgeous?

The crowd around them had begun to thin and Nicole started to become aware that eventually this night would have to end. At about that point she’d be feeling the pain of dancing in high heels for several hours, along with the aftereffects of too much to drink. She hated that reality had to intrude again, especially when she was having such a good time. Nate said something, but over the frenetic pulse of the music she didn’t quite make it out.

“What was that you said?” Nicole asked, leaning closer.

Mmm, he even smelled great—like a cool ocean breeze.

“I said, would you like a drink?”

She’d probably had quite enough for one night but an imp of mischief prompted her to nod her head.

“Here? Or we could head back to my place if you’d rather.”

She felt a frisson of excitement. Was he suggesting what she thought he was suggesting? She’d never done this before—gone back to some random guy’s house for a drink, at least not without a posse of friends with her. But for some reason she felt as if she could trust Nate, and then there was that amazing energy between them. She deserved to find out if those sparks were real, didn’t she? Wouldn’t it be some solace for the night she’d put up with?

“Your place is fine.”

Actually, anywhere but home was fine.

“Great.” He smiled, the action sending a sizzle of anticipation thrilling through her veins.

Sore feet and the prospect of a hangover were the furthest things from her mind as Nate took her hand and led her toward the exit. And if thoughts of “danger” or “risk” occurred to her, she brushed them aside. Tonight was a night for taking chances.

And besides, what was the worst that could happen?