Robin Kaye Bundle Page 15

  “Honey, as far as I’m concerned, there are three cities: New York, Chicago, and LA. If you’re not from one of the above, you’re a bumpkin.”

  “Thanks for the lesson. Now, have you called for a reason?”

  “Several.”

  There was a knock on the door. “Hold on, I think my food’s here.”

  “Okay, answer it, but look through the peephole first. They do have peepholes in Michigan, don’t they?”

  “No, Gina, Home Depot only sells doors with peepholes in New York, Chicago, and LA. They don’t have mad rapists anywhere else.”

  “Funny, very funny.”

  She answered the door and let the kid set the room service tray on the table. After tipping him, she followed him to the door and locked up tight.

  “I’m back.”

  “What’d you order? Something expensive, I hope. Lord knows, they owe you for making you fly all the way out there to clean up this mess. Oh, and it is a mess.”

  “I gathered. I ordered a steak. I couldn’t remember if Michigan was famous for steak or if that was Kansas. Geography was never my strong suit.”

  “Don’t ask me. If it isn’t in one of the six boroughs, I don’t know much about it. Sure, I’d like to go to Hawaii, the Bahamas, maybe Guadalupe, but aside from that, the only place I want to be is New York.”

  “Gina, there are only five boroughs—”

  “You forgot Florida. You’ve heard of the South Bronx; Florida is the South Manhattan. Don’t you know anything?”

  Rosalie cut into the perfect steak—so rare, you could save it with sutures—and took a bite, nearly groaning in ecstasy. She’d never known how good it could feel to be able to taste food again. A trickle of blood dripped onto her chin, and she laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Oh nothing. You know how I like my steak rare—”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Well, Nick would be calling me Vampira right about now. He says I’m the only person alive that likes steak more rare than he does. One night he was cooking and, well, we got distracted. We forgot about the steak until it was well-done.”

  “Eeww.”

  “I know. As far as I’m concerned, the term “welldone” is an oxymoron. Nick ended up boiling some pasta and making this amazing clam sauce. Dave ate the steak. Thank God, Dave wasn’t picky.”

  “Listen to you. You miss him.”

  “I do not. I miss Dave, not Nick. Though it does feel strange being alone. Nick barely left me all week, and when he did, he seemed to have this innate ability to come back just as I was waking up. Hell, every time I awakened, he was there with liquids, food, or drugs— sometimes all three. It was amazing, really. He only got on my nerves when he shoved medicine down my throat. But then, that had more to do with the medication than with him.”

  “Oh, yeah, I can see you don’t miss him at all.”

  “He’s nice . . . and a really good sport. He didn’t even mind when I called him Nurse Ratched. He gave me one of his don’t-mess-with-me looks, but he wasn’t very convincing.”

  “Sounds like a real prince.”

  “I admit, he’s special. He’d have to be to like Dave— either that or crazy. It was cute, the way he got so perturbed over the thought of Dave in a kennel. As if I would put my baby anywhere but the Ritz Carlton of kennels. I doubt they offer daily massages in Sing Sing.”

  “I thought you were going to call him from the airport so he wouldn’t give you a hard time about traveling.”

  “Yeah, that was the plan, but I called to cancel the doctor’s appointment—”

  “Oh, you had another appointment with that Barbie clone?”

  “No. Nick made me see his friend, Mike. He’s a pulmonologist.”

  “A what?”

  “A lung doctor. And Mike called Nick, and Nick came running over like—”

  “Like he cares about you?”

  “No, he was more concerned about Dave going to a kennel than he was about me flying to Michigan.”

  “Somebody sounds jealous,” she said in the singsong tone third graders use.

  “Gina, is there something you need to tell me, or did you call to get on my nerves?”

  “I emailed you the report I put together from the trash I got from Randi with an ‘I,’ Lassiter’s assistant. After one look, you’ll see why the Board of Directors hired us. Talk about a sloppy job. Giving you a hard time is just a bonus.”

  “Glad I could help.”

  “Hey, Dorothy, just because he cares about Toto doesn’t mean he’s not concerned about you. He did run all the way to your place to see you.”

  “And he did drive me to the airport—”

  “What about the limo I sent?”

  “I canceled it.”

  “Rosalie, you sound tired. Why don’t you look at what we’re up against and then go to bed? You’re going to need all your strength tomorrow. All I can say is, it’s a good thing you’re there and Lassiter’s here. Once you see what he did, you’re going to want to murder him, and I’d sure hate to have Sam arrest you.”

  She groaned. “Okay, thanks, and email me those other numbers as soon as you get them.”

  “I will. Sleep well.”

  “Ha. Night, Gina.”

  She looked over the report and cringed. Damn that Lassiter. Gina was right. It was a good thing she wasn’t in the office. The work she and Gina had done over the phone that afternoon had her feeling marginally better, but Gina was right, Rosalie would need all her strength to turn this company around. Too bad she couldn’t bounce ideas around with Nick. Nick would probably take one look at the financials and know what needed to be done, instead of doing what she’d be doing—spending the next few weeks getting up to speed.

  She ordered a wake-up call, did a breathing treatment, and crawled into bed. Nestled into the incredible pillows, she made a mental note to hit the hotel’s website and buy a couple.

  Rosalie was falling out of bed. Yes, she knew she was too old for that, but for some reason, she must have been sleeping on top of the pillows. She felt herself falling and grabbed onto what she thought was the mattress, but it wasn’t. The pillows did cushion her fall, but she doubted whoever was below her thought so.

  Rosalie lay sprawled on the floor at six-thirty in the morning, with a rug burn on her knee. Gathering the pillows, she climbed back in bed. The rug burn hurt like hell and looked even worse. She grabbed her phone off the bedside table, scrolled down to Nick’s number, and hit “Send.” Nick answered on the second ring.

  “Lee?”

  “Hi.”

  “Did you just wake up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And the first thing you did was call me?”

  It was a question, but it sounded more like a statement of fact. “No, it’s not the first thing I did.” She didn’t think she had to tell him the first thing she’d done was pick herself up off the floor.

  “Sure, if you say so. You sound sleepy and sexy as hell . . . the way you always do for the first ten minutes, before your brain starts screaming for caffeine. Did you call room service yet?”

  Damn, she knew she’d forgotten something. “Of course. Um . . . how’s Dave?”

  “He’s fine. He seems to be feeling better.”

  “Why, what was wrong?”

  “We went for a run yesterday. You should have seen him. After a mile, he lay down and refused to go any farther. It took me almost an hour to get him to walk home, and then he looked as if he were limping on all fours. I’ve never seen anything like it. After we talked to you, he was out for the rest of the night.”

  “Outside?”

  “No. Out, as in asleep on the bed. He takes over the entire bed, like someone else I know. But at least you don’t snore.”

  “It’s nice to know I’m a better sleeping companion than Dave. You’d better watch it. All these compliments are going right to my head.”

  She heard a siren and then Dave groaning.

  “Dave, cut it out
, I’m driving here.”

  “You’re driving with Dave?”

  “Yeah, we’re going to work.”

  “It’s against the law to talk on a cell phone and drive. Pull over.”

  “You know, Dave, when your mom calls, all she does is order me around. I don’t think she’s had her coffee yet. I’m pulling over. Happy now?”

  “Are you talking to me or to Dave?”

  “You.”

  “I’m thrilled. Let me get this straight—you’re taking Dave to work with you? What are you, nuts? Dave isn’t a Pekingese. He’s not portable.”

  “Sure he is. He likes the car, but he refused to sit in the back seat, so I buckled him in.”

  “You put a seat belt on Dave?”

  “Only the shoulder strap. I thought it would keep him from going too far forward. He should be safe enough, since the car has airbags . . .”

  “You actually thought of his safety? That’s so sweet.”

  “Lee, give me a break. Sweet is almost as bad as cute. We got six inches of snow last night, and the kids have a snow day. My secretary is bringing her son, Tyler, with her to work. I thought Dave would like to hang with us.”

  “You’re going to let a kid and a dog follow you around?”

  “Sure. Tyler’s great. We shoot hoops and do guy stuff together.”

  “Ooh, the mysterious guy stuff.”

  “Yes, very mysterious. Even Lois doesn’t know what we do. Ty took the blood oath right after I taught him how to pee standing up.”

  “What do you mean? I thought the big deal with guys was writing your name in the snow . . .”

  “Sweetheart, he didn’t know how to spell. He was only two. He’s a bright kid, but not that bright. Look, I’ve got to run, or I’ll be late, and I’m already on Lois’s shit list.”

  “Oh, right. Um, give Dave a kiss for me.”

  “Not likely.”

  “Make sure he doesn’t drink antifreeze or anything.”

  “I’ll keep him in my office.”

  “Nick?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  “Forget about it.”

  Not likely.

  Rosalie disconnected the call on a sigh. Damn the man. There’s nothing more attractive than a man who loves dogs or kids. Of course, Nick would do both.

  Again Rosalie hung up before Nick could say goodbye. Damn. He didn’t want her thanks. He only wanted her to come home.

  Dave gave him a disappointed look.

  “I miss her too, big guy, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to kiss you. Maybe later, after Lois leaves, we can call your mom on the speakerphone. How does that sound?”

  Nick wondered if he was losing it. As if it wasn’t bad enough that he was talking to a one-hundred-fifty-pound mutt, he could have sworn Dave raised a brow as if to say, “You really expect me to answer? What do you think this is, an episode of Lassie?”

  Only Rosalie would have a sarcastic dog.

  Nick and Dave spent the next week and a half working long hours. Lois set up a dog bed for Dave beside Nick’s desk, and when he had meetings, Nick used the conference room instead of his office. Ty came by every day after school and took Dave to the park for twenty bucks for the week. Dave loved Ty, and Ty needed more responsibility and something to occupy his time after school. Ty was about the same age Nick had been when he’d started down the road to Juvie. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let Ty make the same mistake.

  Nick leaned back in his chair and yawned. Christ, he’d thought he’d sleep better without Rosalie around to tie him in knots. It wasn’t the case; if anything, his sleep problems were worse. He’d hardly slept at all since she left, and when he did manage to fall asleep, he’d wake up with his arm around Dave. Which was embarrassing as hell, even for Dave.

  “Wake up!”

  “What?” Nick’s eyes shot open, and he found Lois leaning over his chair. “Christ, Lois, what are you trying to do? Give me a freakin’ heart attack?”

  “If you weren’t sleeping on the job, you’d have heard your phone ringing. Maybe you need to set the ring tone louder . . . or get some sleep. You look like hell.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Time for you to get out of the office. You’re no good to me like this, Nick. I’ve run out of patience. Go home. Don’t come back until you get a minimum of eight hours of sleep.”

  “But Ty is coming. . .”

  “That’s okay. I’m taking the afternoon off. I’ll take him to the park. Dave can have the day off, too. Now both of you, get out of here.”

  Nick was too tired to argue, and she was right about him being no good to anyone at work. He hooked Dave’s leash to his collar and headed home.

  Rosalie opened the door to the apartment, stuck her head in, and waited for Dave to do his sorry impression of the Snoopy Happy Dance. But there was no Dave.

  She wanted to cry. She was tired and cranky, and she wanted to see Dave and Nick. She couldn’t believe she’d come all this way at this ungodly hour, and Nick wasn’t even here.

  Her eyes stung, not from tears, but because they’d been open for eighteen hours straight.

  It wasn’t that she missed Nick. How could she? He’d taken up residence in her brain. The only good thing about Nick filling her thoughts was that she no longer heard her mother.

  Rosalie should have listened when Gina told her to fly back in the morning. But no, she’d wanted to go home. She’d wanted to sleep in her own bed and see her own dog. And yes, she’d wanted to surprise Nick. To think she’d done all that, and he wasn’t even here!

  As she lugged in her bags, Dave trudged out of the bedroom. For the first time all week, she felt like celebrating. He did full-body stretches on his way to greet her. It was a far cry from a Snoopy Happy Dance, but she’d take what she could get. He waited for his kiss and butted his head into her. She wasn’t sure if it was a sign of affection, but that’s how she chose to take it. Tossing her coat on the couch, she kicked her shoes off and followed Dave to the bedroom.

  Dave crawled onto the bed and resumed sleeping with his big head resting on Nick’s chest. Nick reached out, laying his arm over Dave’s neck. Talk about a Kodak moment. Not to mention perfect blackmail material. Rosalie had a feeling Nick would do anything to keep Mike and Vinny from knowing he and Dave slept together. It was a shame she was too tired to find her camera.

  She gave Dave’s rump a pat and pulled him off the bed, careful to keep him from stepping on Nick.

  Nick didn’t even stir. Amazing. She stripped out of her clothes, slipped on a sleep shirt, and slid beneath the covers. God, it was good to be home.

  Rosalie had read somewhere that a person could get addicted to their lover’s scent. Even after years apart, if they smelled that person, they would have an intense physical reaction. She’d thought it was a bunch of romantic bunk before now. Of course, she was never one to awaken on top of her lover, with her head pillowed on the soft spot below his collarbone and her nose pressed against his chest. God, he smelled good.

  “I can hear you thinking.”

  “You cannot. I think silently.” She didn’t move. She listened to the drum of his heart and the rumble of his voice and basked in the warmth of his arms surrounding her.

  “Yeah, but it sets off an electric current I can hear. Welcome home.”

  “Thanks. Your hands are on my ass.”

  “I know.” He gave her butt a squeeze. “It seems to be a bone of contention with you.”

  “There’s nothing bony about it. It’s big.”

  He increased the pressure, kneading the tension out of her glutes and hamstrings. “You’ve got the perfect ass. An ass a man wants to grab and hold onto for a long time. I’ve dreamed about your ass.”

  “Oh, yeah.” She meant it to sound sarcastic but missed the bar. Even to her ears, it sounded like an invitation to proceed, which worked, too. She wanted to moan; it felt so good. Who’d have thought your butt could be a direct route to the state of
arousal?

  “Why didn’t you call? I’d have picked you up.”

  Rosalie smiled against his neck. “I wanted to surprise you.” His pulse thrummed with increasing speed beneath her lips, keeping time with hers. She licked a path to his ear and whispered, “But you didn’t wake up.” Rosalie nipped his earlobe and then pulled it into her mouth to soothe it as she slid her leg the rest of the way over to straddle him.

  “Oh, baby, I’m up, and I’m lovin’ my surprise.”

  When he said he was up, he wasn’t kidding. His erection pressed against the fabric of her boy shorts, and the pressure sent her blood from heated to boiling. Her belly grew warm and heavy. She was melting from the inside out.

  Rosalie pushed herself up to look into his eyes and fell into the swirling vortex she saw there. Hot and possessive need, raw and raging, spinning with a spark of something she couldn’t name. So intense, it scared her as much as it excited her.

  Panic skittered through her. She had the urge to run, but as if he’d read her mind, Nick tightened his hold.

  Her breath came out in a whoosh. She wasn’t sure if it was because he’d flipped them over none too gently, or because she feared being branded. His body was hard on hers, pushing her into the mattress. His kiss was a staggering embodiment of heat, lust, impatience, and latent anger. Whether the anger was aimed at himself or at her, she was unsure.

  His stubble-covered face scraped her skin, his tongue swept into her mouth, and his power surrounded her. Like a swimmer in a riptide, she sank deeper. Resistance was futile and unthinkable.

  Rosalie’s brain was on sensation overload. There was no time to think, only to respond. His hands were everywhere—in her hair, on her face, and on her breasts. His rough skin abraded her sensitive nipples before his mouth soothed, laved, and then bit, sending shooting currents of heat skittering. Fires ignited in all the expected places and a few new ones.

  He pulled the sleep shirt over her head and slid himself down her body. She spread her legs to accommodate him, but instead of stopping, he continued lower. His fingers slid under the waistband of her boy shorts, and before she knew his intention, he’d ripped them off.