Page 7 of Home to Me (The Andrades 2)
He bent closer, and her eyelids lowered in anticipation of his mouth claiming hers again. The first touch was the briefest of touches, just enough to make her quiver with need. “Oh, my little Rena, you know it is. And there is no reason we can’t continue what we started. I’ve wanted you for a long time, and tonight I could use the distraction.”
Distraction? That’s all it would be to him?
A myriad of unpleasant emotions swelled up and stamped back the desire raging within her. I am such an idiot. Rena raised her hand and slapped him across the face. His head reeled back and his nostrils flared angrily.
She’d never hit anyone in her whole life. “You deserved that,” she said, trying not to sound sorry even though she’d instantly regretted her action.
He rubbed a hand thoughtfully over his reddened cheek. “Maybe.”
Rena hugged her arms protectively around her waist. “I’m sorry I hit you.”
A rueful smile curled one side of his lips. “Don’t be, because then I’ll have to say I’m sorry I kissed you, and I’m not. I’m not sorry at all.”
“Stop. I don’t want to play this game. I don’t know if you’re coming on to me because you think being with me would upset Gio, or if I’m some stand-in for whoever walked out on you. I don’t know, and I don’t care. This . . .” Rena waved one hand between them wildly, “cannot happen.”
Nick’s jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. “I would never use you to get back at Gio.”
Rena closed her eyes and sighed, then opened them and said, “I want to believe that.”
“You can.” He rubbed a hand harshly over his forehead with frustration when Rena stared at him silently. “What are you waiting for me to say?”
Giving herself an internal smack, Rena shook her head. What am I waiting for? Some explanation of why he is in his boxers that has nothing to do with being with another woman? I am royally screwed up. “Nothing. Not a damn thing. But I do expect you to listen to me for a minute. You need to call Gio tonight. You need to apologize to him and work this out. You’re almost thirty, Nick. Look at you. Is this really all you want from your life?”
“What gives you the goddamn right to come here and judge me? Just who the fuck do you think you are?”
His words stung, but Rena didn’t let them stop her from saying what she’d come to say. She held out a hand. “Who am I? Nick, we’ve been friends for most of our lives. I love you”—Nick’s eyebrows shot up, then his head snapped back as she continued—“and your brothers. I hate to see any of you unhappy.”
Nick let out a long audible breath. “Go home, Rena.”
Rena hesitated. She didn’t want to leave, but she knew she couldn’t stay. “Nick . . .”
“Do us both a favor and don’t come back.”
There was a finality to his tone that shook Rena. A tear rolled down her cheeks as she inwardly cursed herself for believing she could convince him to do anything—and for how close she’d come to making a monumental mistake.
Luke had warned her she’d get hurt, but she’d believed that beneath all of his bad-boy bravado there was a good man looking for a way to break free. Maybe there wasn’t.
And I’m a fool who sees only what I want to see.
“Rena—” Nick called out, but she continued down the stairs.
***
Nick wasn’t a man who chased a woman, yet he found himself racing after her. There wasn’t a part of what had just happened that he didn’t regret. He’d been in a foul mood, plus Rena had walked in just when he’d revved himself up fantasizing about what they’d almost just done upstairs.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He’d never meant to hurt her. He caught up with her in front of the bar near the dance floor. She was walking away with long purposeful strides. He grabbed one of her arms to stop her, and her momentum swung her around and crashed her into his chest. He steadied her with a hand on either arm. “I’m an ass,” he stated flatly, leaning in close to her ear to be heard above the music.
She pushed against his chest, but he didn’t release her. “Yes, you are.”
“I shouldn’t have taken my bad mood out on you.”
Her lips pressed angrily together for a moment longer, then softened. “No, you shouldn’t have, but I shouldn’t have tried to talk to you about this while you were out drinking. I could have waited until tomorrow.”
“I don’t,” he said, loving how she leaned in to hear his words. “I’ve been sober for three months. I didn’t come here to party. I needed somewhere I could think.”
She cocked a skeptical eyebrow at him. “In your underwear?”
He looked down. “Shit.” A quick look around confirmed his lack of clothing had not gone unnoticed. People all around them were taking photos with their phones. He put a hand up to shield her face from them, even though he knew it was already too late. When he looked down at her again he shook his head and gave a self-disgusted grunt. He didn’t know if he should drag her back upstairs or bolt with her to the door. Either way, there was no changing one fact. “This is going to be in the papers tomorrow.”
Instead of looking mortified, as he’d thought she would, she cocked her head to one side and her forehead creased thoughtfully. “Did you really give up drinking?”
He nodded. “It was time.”
Her eyes were bright with emotion when she said, “I’m proud of you.” Then she pulled his face down to hers and kissed him boldly.
He was staring down at her in bemusement when she ended the kiss.
She winked at him. “I refuse to be the only woman you’ve been photographed with not kissing.”
Then she turned and walked away, leaving him stunned and speechless before a crowd of snap-happy amateur photographers. He shook his head, smiled, and started back toward his VIP section. He didn’t care if they continued to photograph him.
Hell, he’d been caught in much more compromising situations. All he cared about was how he’d felt when Rena had smiled up at him with pride. In her eyes he saw the man he’d always thought he could be, always feared he wasn’t. When she’d looked at him that way, for just that one moment, everything and anything seemed possible.
Rena was long gone by the time Nick returned to the bar fully clothed. He was headed toward a side exit when Serge stepped into his path.
“Your friend left?”
“I’ll see her again.”
Serge raised one hand in caution. “Don’t, Nick.”
Nick threw up two hands. “Why do you care?”
“She has feelings for you. Don’t take advantage of that.”
“I have no intention to. Hell, I’ve known Rena most of my life. I would never hurt her.”
“Then stay as far away from her as you can. Call that saucy redhead. Anyone. You won’t mean to hurt her, but you will—and then you’ll have to live with what you’ve done.”
“You think I’m too fucked up for her?”
“I didn’t say that, Nick. You did. I’m simply suggesting if you care about this one, stay the hell away from her.” Serge walked away, and Nick punched the wall beside the door as he walked out of the club.
Chapter Four
Rena woke to her doorbell ringing over and over again. She rolled over and groaned. Am I late to work? No, it’s Saturday. Who would bang on my door this early on a weekend?
She sat straight up in bed and pulled the hem of her nightshirt down over her thighs. Nick. She reached for her phone and saw she had four missed calls. Not Nick. Madison D’Argenson, Nick’s cousin. She’d sent a couple of texts after Rena hadn’t answered her calls. Shit, I made plans with her for this morning.
She scrambled out of bed, tried to tame her hair in the mirror, then gave up and headed downstairs. “Coming. One minute.”
She looked down at her nightshirt, shook her head, and opened the door while forcing a smile. “Maddy, I slept
in by accident. I’m so sorry.”
Maddy didn’t seem the least bit bothered by Rena’s disheveled state. She held up a tray of coffees and a bag of baked goods. “Bagel? Muffin? I wasn’t sure so I brought both.” She was surprisingly energetic for a woman who had had her second child less than a month before. “I have one hour while Adam naps and Richard gives Joey a cooking lesson.”
“Isn’t he young for that?”
“It’s important for Richard to spend time with him, and my husband loves to talk about cooking. They make pastries and crepes together. It’s adorable, and it gives me an hour of sanity away from them.”
Behind her, Nicole Andrade, the newest addition to the clan and Stephan’s wife, shyly ducked her head in. She was, as always, impeccably attired in an exclusive designer dress. She was also, of the two women visiting Rena, the only one who looked sincerely apologetic. She laid a hand on Maddy’s arm. “Maddy, Rena doesn’t look like she’s ready for company. Maybe we should come back.”
It always amazed Rena that someone as beautiful and wealthy as Nicole could be unsure of herself. Her heart went out to Nicole, and any self-consciousness Rena had felt about welcoming visitors in her nightshirt fell aside. She opened the door wider, saying, “If you don’t mind, I don’t mind. Come in.”
“See,” Maddy said over her shoulder with a wide smile. “Rena and I became close when I started my campaign to bring Gio to your wedding. Now we’re like this.” She held up two crossed fingers.
The complete opposite of Nicole, Maddy happily plowed through life—as comfortable in her own skin as she was with refusing to hear the word no. She had an optimism that, while grating at first, was enviable. She was also a bit of a meddler, which Rena admired about her. She was the reason the Andrade brothers had attended Stephan’s wedding in Italy.
Rena held up her own crossed fingers and referenced the way she was dressed as she led the two women to her living room. “Luckily we’re this close. Not everyone gets to see me without makeup.”
