don’t need a man for that,” Mikki said with more brittle laughter. “Just a better-paying job.” She let out a weary sigh. “I don’t have the intrinsic need most women do to nest. I’m a realist, Lauren. Not a romantic.”
Lauren lifted her clear hazel gaze to give her a pointed look. “What about a family?”
Mikki shrugged, but the unexpected weight settling on her shoulders refused to budge. “You, Rory and Mom are my family.” She downed a large portion of her diet cola. The sorry substitute did nothing to quell the sudden sharp craving for something a whole lot more potent than an innocuous soft drink.
“I meant a family of your own,” Lauren pressed. “You’d make a great mother, Mikki. I hope you realize that someday.”
No way. Not her. Never.
She knew exactly what her sister meant and she resented the reminder. She suffered with more sorrow than she’d ever admit to over her decision to never have children. But she couldn’t change the past. She was who she was—a Correlli. And the bloodline ended with her. Period. She’d learned to accept her fate—why wouldn’t anyone else?
But something deep in Mikki’s chest still caught and squeezed hard anyway. It wasn’t the sharp pang of longing. Or was it? Maybe it was another one of those annoying ticks from her biological clock that hadn’t caught on that Correllis had no business breeding. She kept hitting the snooze button, but every so often the what-ifs managed to sneak past her barriers to tweak her self-pity nerve. She couldn’t change who or what she was: the last woman who should ever consider having a baby.
“Motherhood doesn’t interest me,” she said a tad too snappishly. Guilt instantly slammed into her at the flash of hurt in Lauren’s eyes.
Shit. She hadn’t meant to sound so cold, but Lauren was hitting a nerve she didn’t appreciate having nudged. What was done was done. And she’d gotten over it a lifetime ago.
“You’re wonderful with kids.” Rory tugged her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “Don’t sell yourself short.”
“Just as long as they belong to someone else,” she reminded Rory. “When you two decide to start having babies, count on me to spoil them rotten. Now, can we please change the subject before I break out in hives?”
A server neared and Mikki signaled to place another order. She would have sold her soul and then some for a something strong enough to anesthetize her mind. She loved Lauren but, dammit, she had no desire to navigate an emotional obstacle course.
The server took his sweet time coming their way, giving the craving gnawing at her time to build. Her hands trembled, so she fisted them in her lap and attempted to concentrate on the rich red-and-gold, bordelloesque decor of Clementine’s. The need for a shot of bourbon only grew stronger. After four years of sobriety, it annoyed the life out of her that she still had to fight off such strong temptation for a drink—for several drinks—but she’d learned early on that some days were easier to get through than others.
She dug her nails into her palms as the server finally approached. “There’s a twenty in it for you if you’re back in less than five minutes,” she told him, placing an order for another two glasses of soda and another round for Lauren and Rory.
Opening her black silk evening bag, she pulled out her car keys and set them in front of Rory for safekeeping. “Just in case,” she said tightly. “It’s one of those days.”
Rory’s expression instantly filled with concern, but Mikki shook her head, signaling she didn’t want to discuss the war going on inside her. She’d get through this, just as she always did. One second at a time if necessary. Ridding herself of her car keys was merely a precaution.
Contrition clouded Lauren’s eyes. Reaching across the table, she gave Mikki’s hand a light squeeze. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”
She looked at Lauren and tried to offer her a reassuring smile, but could only manage a slight grimace. “Forget about it,” she said with as much sincerity as she could muster. “I already have.”
A lie. A big fat one, but she wasn’t about to hurt Lauren’s feelings further or cause either of her sisters more worry. Mikki’s ghosts were her problem.
She knew they were only concerned about her, and with good reason, but she wasn’t about to blow all her hard work because of a silly reminder that she’d willingly chucked her own glass slipper out the window. She’d made her choices and, for the most part, was perfectly content with her life. She had a job she loved, a small but close circle of friends and her odd, mismatched family. If she needed a man, she found one to ease her frustration. On those occasions between lovers, she took care of her needs the way any woman with a healthy sex drive did—by making sure there were plenty of batteries on hand.
The server returned in record time. As Mikki paid him and included the bonus she’d promised, Rory said something she didn’t quite catch, but the urgency in her voice had Mikki looking up to follow her sister’s gaze.
There wasn’t enough alcohol in Clementine’s to numb her. Not when she found herself gazing at a pair of familiar dark brown bedroom eyes she’d never been able to forget, no matter how many vices she abused to banish them from her mind.
The buzz of conversation, the raucous beat of the music and the colorful changing lights from the dance floor faded. Rory’s hand settled on her arm, but Mikki took no comfort from the supportive gesture as she returned the stare of the one man she’d hoped to never see again—Nolan Baylor.
Her heart gave a sudden traitorous lurch. Damn.
The passage of time had been good to him. His shoulders seemed wider than she remembered and his biceps, emphasized by the snug fit of the sleeves of the dark, charcoal-gray polo shirt he wore, were definitely thicker. His waist appeared leaner, too, but he still possessed the same rugged good looks she’d always preferred.
A slow, sinful smile tipped his mouth. The lines of his face were more angular now, too, she realized. Sharper. Harder. Just like the challenging glint in his eyes.
Every step that brought him closer filled her with tension.
His smile deepened.
A flash of silver caught the light. Apprehension slid down her spine, chilling her. Dangling from her ex-husband’s long, tanned fingers was a small white-gold key.
2
MIKKI WAS EVEN MORE beautiful than Nolan remembered. Seeing her again had him recalling plenty, too. Not just how incredibly sexy she looked in that skimpy black dress clinging to her voluptuous curves, but the passion and how they’d never been able to get enough of each other. The laughter, the good times and, unfortunately, the arguments and mistakes made by two people who’d been too young and headstrong were equally prominent.
Mikki always did have a short fuse. One look reminded him of just how volatile she could be as her shock segued into apprehension, followed by a distinct flare of hot temper evident in those sapphire-blue eyes that defied her heritage.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Not the greeting he’d hoped for, yet no less than he’d expected, or even deserved, for that matter. “Nice to see you again, too, Mikki,” he said, tucking the key into his pocket.
“The
