all the normal rules of her personality and made her act like someone she didn’t even know.
“It never crossed my mind that you might expect me to share a shower with you,” Vanessa lied, her chin at a prim angle, her arms folded.
“Liar,” Nick replied with amused affection.
He lived in a condominium on the top floor of one of the most historic buildings in Seattle, and the place had a quiet charm that surprised Vanessa. She had expected a playboy’s den with lots of velvet, chrome and smoked glass, but the spacious rooms were decorated in earth tones instead. There was an old-fashioned fireplace in the living room and a beautiful Navaho rug graced the wall above the cushy beige corduroy sofa.
“Make yourself at home,” Nick said casually, ducking through a doorway and leaving Vanessa to stand there alone, feeling sweaty and rumpled and totally out of place.
She went to the window and looked out on busy Elliot Bay. A passenger ferry was chugging into port, large and riverboatlike, and Vanessa smiled. In the distance, she heard the sound of running water and an off-key rendition of a current popular song.
The view kept her occupied for what seemed like a long time, but when Nick didn’t return after ten minutes, Vanessa began to grow uneasy. She approached the big-screen television in one corner of the room and pushed the On button.
Immediately the Midas Network leaped out at her in living color, life-size. She turned the set off again and began to pace, tempted to sneak out before this nonrelationship with Nick De-Angelo grew into something she couldn’t handle.
She was just reaching for the doorknob when his voice stopped her.
“Don’t go,” he said quietly. “I’m not going to hurt you in any way, Vanessa. I swear it.”
She couldn’t move, couldn’t drop her hand to her side or turn the knob and make her escape.
“Something really important is happening here,” he went on. “Can’t you feel it?”
Vanessa let her forehead rest against the cool panel of the door. “Yes,” she confessed in a strangled voice, “and that’s what scares me.”
He stepped closer to her and laid his hands very gently on her shoulders. She was filled with the scent of his clean hair, his freshly washed skin. “I won’t let anything happen that you’re not ready for,” he promised, and when he turned her around to face him, Vanessa was powerless to resist.
She looked up at him with eyes full of trust and fear, and he let his hands drop to her waist. He was careful not to hold her too close, and yet she was achingly aware of his total, unreserved masculinity.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he said matter-of-factly. “That is, if you’re ready.”
She slid her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe, exhilarated and, at the same time, terrified. “I’m ready,” she answered, her mouth only a whisper away from his.
3
“Want a shower now?”
Vanessa, her energy drained by the kiss, had sagged back against the door when it was over. Her eyes opened wide, however, when Nick’s words registered. “I beg your pardon?”
He turned and walked off toward the open kitchen, looking too good for comfort in his jeans and cut-off shirt. His stomach muscles made hard ripples when he lifted his arm to open a cupboard door, and Vanessa felt vaguely dizzy.
At that moment there was only one thing in the world she wanted more than a shower. She followed him, careful to keep the breakfast bar between them. “I don’t have any clean clothes to put on,” she ventured to say.
Nick shrugged. “Some of Gina’s things are still here. You’re about her size, I think.”
The name made Vanessa round the breakfast bar. “Gina?” she asked, looking up at him.
He kissed her forehead. “My sister,” he assured her.
The relief Vanessa felt was embarrassing in its scope. “I’ve never had to shower on a date before,” she confessed.
Nick chuckled at that. “Never?”
Vanessa looked up into his dancing eyes and felt a painful tug somewhere in the region of her heart. She wanted to appear glamorous and sophisticated, but the truth was far different. She’d never been with any man besides Parker, and, when and if she went to bed with Nick, it was going to be almost like reliving the first time. At last she shook her head and answered, “Never.”
He started to put his arms around her and then stopped. “Do you like Chinese food?” he asked.
Vanessa nodded.
“Good. You’ll find the clothes and the shower down the hall—first room on the right. I’ll go get our lunch while you’re changing—okay?”
“Okay,” Vanessa answered, not knowing quite what to make of this man. She knew Nick was attracted to her, and yet when he had an advantage, he didn’t press it.
The room Nick had directed her to was large, though it obviously wasn’t the place where he slept. There was a private bathroom, however, and Vanessa locked herself in before stripping off the clothes she’d worn to run in the park.
When she finished showering, she found the promised clothes in closets and bureaus and finally helped herself to a jumpsuit of navy corduroy. She buttoned it to her eyeballs and was just entering the living room when Nick returned with cartons of fragrant sweet-and-sour chicken, chow mein and fried rice.
He smiled and shook his head when he saw the jumpsuit. “Feel better?” he asked.
Vanessa felt a number of things, and she wasn’t ready to talk about any of them. She went to the cupboards and opened doors until she found plates for their food. They ate at the breakfast bar, perched on stools, and Nick insisted on using chopsticks.
“Show off,” Vanessa said, spearing a succulent morsel of chicken with her fork.
He surprised her by laying down his chop-sticks, reaching out and unfastening the top two buttons of the jumpsuit. “The weather’s getting nasty outside,” he commented, “but it’s warm enough in here.”
Vanessa blushed, embarrassed. She knew Nick thought she was a hidebound prude, but she didn’t have the nerve to prove she wasn’t. Not yet.
He leaned over and gave her a nibbling kiss on the lips. “Everything is okay, Van,” he promised her quietly. “Just relax.”
A light rain spattered the windows, and Nick left his stool to light a fire on the hearth. The crackling sound was cozy, and the colorful blaze gave that corner of the room a cheery glow.
Something Vanessa could not name or define made her leave her place at the breakfast bar and approach Nick. She knelt beside him, facing the fireplace, and said, “I’m not like you p-probably think I am. It’s just that you scare me so much.”
He turned to her, smiling softly, and slid four fingers into her hair, caressing her cheek
