Loved You First Read online

  “He’s a pushy guy,” Rachel said, trying to strike a balance between sympathy and sternness. “But he’s not only responsible for you in the eyes of the law—he cares about you.” Because his answering snort seemed more automatic than sincere, she smiled. “His style’s a little rough, but I’d have to say his intentions are good.”

  “He’s going to have to give me some room.”

  “You’re going to have to earn it.” She squeezed his hand to take the sting out of her words. “What did you tell him about tonight?”

  “I said I had a date, and he should butt out.” Nick grinned, pleased when he saw the answering humor in Rachel’s eyes. He’d have been very disappointed if he’d realized she was amused at the term date. “It’s like he’s got his life and I got mine. You know what I’m saying?”

  “Yes.” She drew a deep appreciative breath as their pizza arrived. “And what do you want to do with your life, Nick?”

  “I figure I’ll take what comes.”

  “No ambitions?” She took the first bite, watching him. “No dreams?”

  Something flickered in his eyes before he lowered them. “I don’t want to be serving drinks for a living, that’s for sure. Zack can have it.” After crushing out his cigarette, he applied himself to the pizza. “And no way I’m going into the damn navy, either. He swung that one by me the other day, and I shot it down big-time.”

  “Well, you seem to know what you don’t want. That’s a step.”

  He reached out to toy with the little silver ring on her finger. “Did you always want to be a lawyer?”

  “Pretty much. For a while I wanted to be a ballerina, like my sister. That’s when I was five. It only took about three lessons for me to figure out it wasn’t all tutus and toe shoes. Then I thought I might be a carpenter, like the men in my family, so I asked for a tool set for my birthday. I think I was eight. I managed to build a pretty fair book rack before I retired.” She smiled, and his heart rate accelerated. “It took me a while to come to the conclusion that I couldn’t be what Natasha was, or Papa or Mama or anyone else. I had to find my own way.” She said it casually, hoping the concept would take root.

  “So you went to law school.”

  “Mmm…” Her eyes brightened as she studied him. “Can you keep a secret?”

  “Sure.”

  “Perry Mason.” Laughing at herself, she scooped up another slice. “I was fascinated by those old reruns. You know, how there would always be this murder, and Perry would take the case when his client looked doomed. Lieutenant Tragg would have all this evidence, and Perry would have Della and Paul Drake out looking for clues to prove his client’s innocence. Then they’d go to court. Lots of objections, and ‘Your Honor, as usual the counsel for the defense is turning this proceeding into a circus.’ It would look bad for Perry. He’d be up against that smug-faced DA.”

  “Hamilton Berger,” Nick said, grinning.

  “Right. Perry would play it real close to the vest, dropping little hints to Della, but never spilling the whole thing. You just knew he had all the answers, but he would string it out. Then, always at the eleventh hour, he’d get the real murderer up on the witness stand, and he’d just hammer the truth out of him, until the poor slob would crumble like a cookie and confess all.”

  “Then he’d explain how he’d figured it all out in the epilogue,” Nick finished for her. “And you wanted to be Perry Mason.”

  “You bet,” Rachel agreed over a bite of pizza. “By the time I realized it wasn’t that black-and-white, and it certainly wasn’t that tidy, I was hooked.”

  “Ray Charles,” Nick said, half to himself.

  “What?”

  “It just made me think how listening to Ray Charles made me want to play the piano.”

  Rachel rested her chin on her folded hands and tried to ease the door open a little farther. “Do you play?”

  “Not really. I used to think it would be pretty cool. Sometimes I’d hang around this music store and fiddle around until they kicked me out.” The twinge of embarrassment made him brush the rest aside. “I got over it.”

  But once she had a purpose, Rachel wasn’t easily shaken. “I always wished I’d learned. Tash got my mother a piano a few months ago—when we found out she’d always wanted to play. All those years we were growing up, she never mentioned it. All those years…” Her words trailed off, and then she shook herself back to the matter at hand. “My sister married a musician. Spencer Kimball.”

  “Kimball?” Nick’s eyes widened before he could prevent it. “The composer?”

  “You know his work?”

  “Yeah.” He struggled to keep it cool. A guy couldn’t admit he listened to longhair music—unless it was heavy metal. “Some.”

  Delighted with his reaction, Rachel continued, just as casually. “At one of our visits down to see Tash and her family, we caught Mama at the piano. She got all flustered and kept saying how she was too old to learn, and how foolish it was. But then Spence sat down with her to show her a few chords, and you could see, you could just see, how much she wanted to learn. So on Mother’s Day, we worked out this big, elaborate plan to get her out of the house for a few hours. Anyway, when she came back, the piano was in the living room. She cried.” Rachel blinked the mist out of her own eyes and sighed. “She takes lessons twice a week now, and she’s practicing for her first recital.”

  “That’s cool,” Nick murmured, obscurely touched.

  “Yeah, it’s pretty cool.” She smiled at him. “I guess it proves it’s never too late to try.” When she offered a hand, she wanted him to take it as a gesture of friendship and support. “What do you say we walk off some of this pizza?”

  “Yeah.” His fingers closed around hers, and Nicholas LeBeck was in heaven.

  He was content to listen to her talk, to have her laugh shiver over him. Even the shadows of the girls who had weaved in and out of his life faded away. They were nothing compared to the woman who walked beside him, slim and soft and fragrant.

  She listened when he talked. And she was interested in what he had to say. When she smiled up at him, those exotic eyes flashing with humor, his stomach tied itself into slippery knots.

  He could have walked with her for hours.

  “This is it.”

  Nick pulled up short, standing in almost the exact spot his brother had a few nights before. As his gaze skimmed over the building at her back, he imagined what it would be like if she asked him in. They’d have coffee, and she’d slip off her shoes and curl those long legs up as they talked.

  He’d be careful with her, even gentle. Once his nerves settled.

  “I’m glad we could do this,” she was saying, already taking out her keys. “I hope if you’re feeling restless again, or just need to talk to someone, you’ll call me. When I file my report with Judge Beckett tomorrow, I think she’ll be pleased with the way things are working out.”

  “Are you?” His eyes locked on hers as he lifted a hand to her hair. “Pleased with the way things are working out?”

  “Sure.” A little alarm shrilled in Rachel’s head, but she dismissed it as absurd. “I think you’ve taken a step in the right direction.”

  “Me too.”

  The alarm continued to beep as she backed up. “We’ll have to do this again soon, but I’ve got to get in now. I have an early meeting.”

  “Okay. I’ll call you.”

  She blinked as his hand slipped around to cup her neck. “Ah, Nick…”

  His mouth closed over hers, very warm, very firm. Her eyes stayed open, registering shock, as her hand flew up to press against his shoulder. His fingers tensed against her neck, and she had the impression of a very lean, very hard body before she managed to pull away.

  “Nick,” she said again, groping.

  “It’s okay.” He smiled, tucked her hair behind her ear in a gesture that reminded her vividly of his brother. “I’ll be in touch.”

  He strolled away. No…good Lord, he was swaggerin
g, Rachel thought as she stared after him. With her mind whirling, she let herself in. “Oh, boy,” she sighed as she paced the elevator.

  What now? What now? How could she have been so stupid? Cursing herself, she stomped off the elevator and toward her apartment. This was great, just great. Here she’d been trying to make friends with Nick, and all the while he’d been thinking…

  She didn’t want to think about what he’d been thinking.

  Without taking off her jacket, she paced the apartment. There had to be a reasonable, diplomatic way to handle this, she told herself. He was only nineteen, he just had a crush, she was overreacting.

  Then she remembered those limber fingers on the back of her neck, the firm press of those lips, the smooth and practiced way he’d drawn her against him.

  Wrong, Rachel thought, and closed her eyes. She wasn’t dealing with a child’s puppy love, but with a full-grown man’s desire.

  Dropping down onto the arm of the couch, she dragged her hands through her hair. She should have seen it coming, she told herself. She should have stopped it before it started. She should have done a lot of things.

  After twenty minutes of kicking herself, she snatched up the phone. She might be hip-deep in quicksand, but she wasn’t going to sink alone.

  “Lower the Boom.”

  “Let me talk to Muldoon,” Rachel snapped, scowling at the sound of laughter and bar chatter that hummed through the receiver. “It’s Rachel Stanislaski.”

  “You got it. Hey, Zack, phone for you. It’s the babe.”

  Babe? Rachel thought, narrowing her eyes. “Babe?” she repeated out loud the moment Zack had answered.

  “Hey, sugar, I’m not responsible for the opinions of my bartenders.” He took a swallow of mineral water. “So you finally realized you couldn’t keep away from me.”

  “Stuff it, Muldoon. We need to talk. Tonight.”

  He stopped grinning and shifted the phone. “Is there a problem?”

  “Damn right.”

  “Nick breezed through a couple of minutes ago. He seemed fine when he headed upstairs.”

  “He’s upstairs?” she said, calculating. “Just make sure he stays up there. I’m coming right over.” She hung up before he could ask any questions.

  It wasn’t exactly the way he’d planned it, Zack thought as he mixed a couple of stingers. His strategy had been to lie back for a few days, let Rachel simmer. Until she came to a boil—and came looking for him.

  She hadn’t sounded lonely or aroused or vulnerable over the phone. She’d sounded mad as a hornet.

  He cast his eyes up at the ceiling, picturing the apartment overhead, as he automatically added a twist to a glass of club soda. Obviously it had to do with Nick. Where the hell had the boy been all evening? he wondered.

  What kind of trouble had he gotten himself into this time? With half an ear, Zack took an order for two drafts, a margarita on the rocks and a coffee, black. Damned if he’d thought the boy was in trouble, Zack reflected. Nick had looked relaxed, calm, even approachable, when he’d checked in. Zack remembered thinking that the date had been a rousing success. And he’d hoped to be able to ease the girl’s name out of his brother—along with a bit more salient information.

  He didn’t figure Nick needed a course in the birds and bees, but he hoped to drop a few hints about responsibility, protection and respect.

  A steady girl, a steady job, a stable home. They all seemed to be coming together. So what the hell…

  His thoughts broke off as he looked up. Rachel walked in, cheeks flushed from the chilly evening, eyes snapping. As she crossed the room, she peeled off her jacket to reveal one of those soft sweaters she often wore. This one was the color of a good burgundy, with a wide cowl neck that draped softly over the swell of her breasts. It rode her hips, and under it she wore snug black leggings that showed off those first-class legs.

  Zack checked to make sure his tongue wasn’t hanging out.

  She stopped at the bar only long enough to glare at him. “In your office.” Without waiting for a response, she strode off.

  “Well, well…” Lola watched Rachel swing Zack’s office door open, then shut it behind her with a loud click. “Looks like the lady’s got something on her mind.”

  “Yeah.” Zack set the last glass on Lola’s tray. All he could think was, there was definitely a fire in the hole. “If Nick comes back down, tell him I’m…tied up.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  “Right.” And he intended to remain the boss. He swung through the bar and, taking one bracing breath, marched into his office.

  Rachel had tossed her jacket and purse aside, and was pacing. When the door opened, she stopped, swung her hair back and leveled a killing gaze at him.

  “Don’t you ever talk to him?” she demanded. “Aren’t you making any effort to find out what’s going on in his head? What kind of a guardian are you, anyway?”

  “What the hell is this?” He threw up his hands in disgust. “I don’t see or hear from you in days, then you come stalking in here just so you can yell at me. Just simmer down, Counselor, and remember I’m not some felon on the witness stand.”

  “Don’t tell me to simmer down,” she tossed back. It felt good, really good, to assuage her guilt and frustration with a pitched battle. “I’m the one who’s going to have to deal with him. And if you were any kind of a brother, you would have known. You could have warned me.”

  Because his confidence as a brother was still at low tide, he hissed out an oath. Rachel echoed it as he shoved her into a chair. “Just sit down and take it from the top. I assume we’re talking about Nick.”

  “Of course we’re talking about Nick.” She popped up again, and was pushed right back down. “I don’t have anything else to discuss with you.”

  “We’ll bypass that for now. Just what is it I should have known and warned you about?”

  “That he’d…he’d…” She blew out a breath, struggling for the proper phrase. “That he’d started to think of me as a woman.”

  “How the hell is he supposed to think of you? As a tuna?”

  “I mean as a woman,” she said between her teeth. “Do I have to spell it out?”

  His brows shot up, then settled again as he reached for a cigarette. “Don’t be stupid, Rachel. He’s nineteen. I’m not saying he’s blind and wouldn’t appreciate the way you look. But he’s got a girl. He was out with her tonight.”

  “You idiot.” She sprang up again, and this time she thumped a fist on his chest. “He was out with me tonight.”

  “Out with you?” With a frown, Zack studied her. “What for?”

  “We went to the movies, had a pizza. I wanted to get him to talk a little—informally—so when he called I said sure.”

  “One step at a time. Nick called you and asked you out on a date.”

  “It wasn’t a date. I didn’t think it was a damn date.” Since she didn’t see anything handy to kick other than Zack’s shin, she stalked a circle around his office again. “It seemed to me if we could develop a relationship— A friendship,” she corrected hastily. “It would make things easier all around.”

  Considering, Zack took a drag of his cigarette. “Sounds reasonable. So you took in a flick and had a pizza. What’s the problem? Did he get into a fight, give you a hard time?” He stopped, alarmed. “You didn’t run into any of the Cobras?”

  “No, no, no…” Incensed, she whirled around the room. “Aren’t you listening to me? I said he was thinking about me as a woman…as a date. As a… Oh, boy.” She let out a long breath. “He kissed me.”

  Zack’s eyes turned into dark, dangerous slits. “Define kiss.”

  “You know damn well what a kiss is. You smack your lips up against somebody’s.” She spun away, then back. “I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t. Then, before I realized what he was thinking, wham!”

  “Wham,” Zack repeated, trying to stay calm. He took his own turn around the room, bumping his shoulders against hers.
“Okay, listen, I think you’re making a big deal out of nothing. He kissed you good-night. It’s a gesture. He’s just a kid.”

  “No,” Rachel said, and her tone had Zack turning back to her. “He’s not.”

  Temper was clawing to gain freedom. As a result, Zack’s voice was deadly calm. “Did he try to—”

  “No.” Recognizing the signs, she cut him off. “Of course he didn’t. He just kissed me. But it was the way… Listen, Zack, I know the difference between a casual kiss good-night between friends and—and, well, a move. And I can tell you Nick has a very smooth move.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Zack said between his teeth.

  Suddenly drained, she dropped down onto the corner of his desk. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “I’ll straighten him out.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know how,” he shot back, crushing out his cigarette. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to be competing with my kid brother.”

  The muttered aside had her narrowing her eyes. “I’m not a trophy, Muldoon.”

  “I didn’t mean—” With a shake of his head, he leaned on the desk beside her. “Look, this throws me off course, okay? I figured Nick was out making time with some pretty little teenager whose daddy would want her home by midnight, and now I find out he’s coming on to you. If he wasn’t my brother, I’d go knock him around a little.”

  “Typical,” she muttered.

  He ignored that and tried to think. “It’s probably normal for him to develop—or think he’s developed—feelings for you. Don’t you think?”

  “Maybe.” She tilted her head to slant Zack a look. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

  “Me either. You could back off, stay unavailable—the way you’ve tried to be with me.”

  “I’ve been busy.” All dignity, she lifted her chin. “And we’re not talking about you. In any case, I considered that, but I’m supposed to be his co-guardian. I can’t do that long-distance. Besides, he talked to me tonight. He really talked, and relaxed, and showed me a little of what’s underneath all that defiance. If I cut him off now, just when he’s beginning to open up and trust me, I don’t know what damage I might do.”