A Forbidden Affair. Yvonne Lindsay
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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?
Two
Nate caught Raoul’s eye as he led Nicole away, giving his friend a nod. He briefly saw Raoul’s answering wink before the expression on the other man’s face changed to one of shocked recognition. Nate fought back the smug smile that pulled at his lips.
In all the years he’d spent imagining how he would bring Charles Wilson to his knees, he’d never once imagined this scenario. But then, he’d never imagined taking Charles Wilson’s daughter in his arms and feeling such a searing sense of attraction, either. With such a ripe opportunity before him, he’d be a fool not to make the most of it—in every way possible. Still, he had to be careful. It wouldn’t do to put the cart before the horse. He could just as easily be calling a taxi to take Nicole home after their drink, but something inside him told him that was very unlikely.
He reached in his pocket and pressed the remote to the low-slung silver Maserati that waited for them at the curb.
“Very pretty car,” Nicole commented as he held open the passenger door for her and she folded her delicious long legs into the passenger bay.
“I like to travel in style,” he answered with a smile.
“I like that in a man,” she answered, her lips curving in response.
He just bet she did. She’d never wanted for anything and every part of her life had been to the highest standard. It stood to reason that Nicole Wilson’s demands of her men would be high. It was a gauntlet he relished picking up.
Unlike Nicole, Nate knew what it was like to struggle—his father had been a living example of the concept for most of Nate’s childhood. After Charles Wilson had kicked him out of the business they’d built together, it had taken years for Thomas to reestablish his credibility and build a company of his own. Nate had watched as his father poured his everything into his fledgling business in an attempt to provide something, anything, to the woman he’d accidentally gotten pregnant and the son their liaison had borne. And while Thomas had done his best to shield his only child, the experience had left its mark, resulting in two rules that Nate had lived his life by ever since. Rule one: be very careful who you trust.
Rule two: all’s fair in love and war.
Nate slid into the driver’s seat and started the car, maneuvering it smoothly toward Hobson Street and the entrance to the North Western motorway.
“You’re a Westie?” Nicole asked.
“After a fashion,” he answered. “I have a couple of places. Karekare is where I call home. You still want that drink at my place?”
His challenge hung between them in the dark interior of the car. He shot her a glance and saw her press her lips together and swallow before answering.
“I’m all good. I haven’t been out to Karekare in ages.”
“It’s still pretty much the same. Wild and beautiful.”
“Like you?” she asked, her eyes gleaming as she shot him a glance.
“I was thinking more along the lines of you.”
She laughed, the sound filling the cabin of his car and making his gut tighten in anticipation.
“Oh, you’re good. You know all the right things to say to salve a wounded soul.”
“Wounded?” he probed.
“Just family stuff. Too complicated and too boring to bring up now,” she hedged.
Was all no longer well in the Wilson household? Nate wondered. He’d made it his business to know what happened within Wilson Wines and he’d heard of the return of the prodigal son. Had Judd Wilson’s arrival served to uplift the mantel of golden child off Nicole’s shoulders?
“We have a long drive,” Nate pointed out as they entered the motorway and his car picked up speed. “I’m willing to listen if you want to talk about it.”
“Just the usual,” she said with an attempt at flippancy. An attempt that failed judging by the tone of her voice.
“Sounds serious,” he commented, keeping his eyes looking forward out the windscreen.
She sighed, the sound coming from somewhere deep down inside her. “I had a fight with my dad. At the risk of sounding clichéd, he doesn’t understand me.”
“Isn’t that a parental prerogative?”
She laughed, a short, sharp sound in total contrast to the last time she’d done so. “I suppose so. I just feel so used, you know? I have spent my whole life trying to measure up, to be the best daughter, the best workmate, the best—well, everything. And he thinks I should settle down and have babies! As if. You know, I think he values a paper clip on his desk more highly than he does me. I’ve spent the past five years helping him to keep our family business thriving and he tells me it’s a nice hobby for me.”
“I suppose this argument is what led you to the club tonight?”
“Too right it is. I couldn’t stay under his roof another second. Oh, no, wait.