Falling For Nick (16 page)

"Clea, wake up."

Something brushed across her face. Clea's eyes snapped open. Nick leaned over her, his hand on her head.

"Are you awake?" he asked, so close she could feel his warm breath on her skin.

"Yes." Her mouth felt dry. She tried to move, but the pounding in her head intensified.

"How do you feel?" His fingers brushed the hair back from her brow, his touch tender, careful to avoid the bandage on her forehead.

"I felt better before you woke me." She grimaced. "My head hurts. I'm thirsty."

Nick got up, returning a minute later with a glass of water. He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Drink this."

Clea sat up, one hand on her throbbing head. Nick held the glass to her lips and she drank. The water tasted sweet and cool against her parched tongue.

"Are you nauseated or dizzy?" he asked.

"No." She gave him a weak smile. "You make a great nurse, Nick. Maybe you should consider changing professions."

"Yeah, right." He grimaced.

"What time is it?"

"Four a.m."

"Every time I go to sleep you wake me. I'm going to be a walking zombie tomorrow, or should I say this morning, when I open the shop."

"You are not opening the shop. Mitzi can open. You need to rest, doctor's orders."

"I don't think she's in town. She's probably stuck somewhere."

"This town can survive without coffee for one day, Clea." Nick set the glass of water on her nightstand. "You need to rest. You said yourself that your head is pounding."

Clea winced as she settled back against the pillow. "Maybe you're right." Hair rumpled, lines of fatigue around his eyes, Nick looked as tired as she felt. "Thank you for staying with me, and for making me call Robert and my mother. I know I was stretching the truth a bit, telling them I was in a little fender-bender, but at least they won't be shocked when they see the bandage on my forehead. I'm glad they took my advice and stayed put last night."

"You gave me quite a scare." He reached for her hand, and threading his fingers with hers, brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it.

"I scared myself." The horror of seeing the SUV bearing down on her came to the surface, making her stomach do a sickening flip-flop.

"Why would you drive in this storm?" He shifted on the bed. Clea scooted over to give him more room. "You grew up here. You know how dangerous that road can be. It turns into an ice rink. All it takes is one wrong move."

"And I could have been killed," Clea finished for him. She shut her eyes against the image of her twisted car. "I know that. Don't you think I feel like an idiot?"

"Did I drive you from town?" Nick asked, his voice low. "Did you leave because of what happened between us the other night?"

"No," she lied. She didn't want him to think he had any power over her.

He sighed. "I don't want to drive you away."

"You didn't." Soft light from the hall spilled into the room, bathing Nick in shadows. A dark stubble coated his jaw. His eyes drooped a little, and she knew he hadn't gotten any sleep at all. He'd done everything right since returning to town, and she'd done everything wrong. She'd been less than honest with him, trying to protect herself from getting hurt again.

"Maybe I did want to get away from you," she said, watching his face for a reaction to her words.

He ran a hand over his whiskers. "When I saw you at Maude's funeral, I didn't know what to think. I sure as hell never expected you to be there. It was a shock." He stroked her hair, his touch gentle. "Maybe if you hadn't been there, if I hadn't seen you, I might have left right after the funeral, but that's not the way it happened. You were there. I did see you. After that I started to imagine the possibilities if I stayed."

"I'm glad you stayed," she said, the words leaving her mouth before she could stop them. "I'm glad for John. For better or worse, you're part of his life now. That won't ever change, even after we move to New York."

"I want to meet him. It's time."

"Okay," she agreed. "I'll set something up."

Nick nodded. "Thank you."

"John's a little boy," she said, wanting him to understand their son. "Robert is the only father figure in his life, and this change won't be easy for him. I have to trust you with my son. Don't hurt him, Nick." She longed to add,
Don't hurt me
, but she bit back the words.

"I won't." He touched her arm, giving it a light squeeze. "I promise."

Clea's head throbbed. She never thought she'd be having this conversation at four in the morning with a head injury. She needed to sleep. She didn't want to think anymore.

"Go back to sleep," Nick said.

"Go and sleep on the sofa, please." It unnerved her that he sat in the chair, watching her. To shield herself from his intense scrutiny she snuggled more deeply under the covers. "I'll be fine."

"Not a chance. I'm staying right here where I can keep an eye on you."

"Then at least stretch out on the bed. I trust you," she murmured, her eyelids growing heavy. "You won't try to take advantage of an injured woman."

Clea let her eyes close. She listened as Nick pulled his boots off. The bed moved, and she could feel his weight as he stretched out beside her. He didn't get under the covers and she didn't invite him. She'd given him a blanket earlier, and although she didn't check, she felt sure he used it now to cover himself up. She'd never been in bed with him before. Not even when they'd conceived John; they'd done that in the Boss. It felt a little unsettling to share so intimate a space with him.

"I'll wake you in two hours," Nick said, his voice close to her ear.

"Um hum," she replied, too tired to form coherent words.

"Sweet dreams, Princess."

*   *   *

Nick came awake slowly. A pleasant sweet scent teased him. He inhaled. His nose touched something soft, silky, and he knew without looking he touched Clea's hair. His eyes flew open. Sometime after he'd woken her at six-thirty he'd become intertwined with her. She had rolled over, into his arms, her head on his chest. Even though blankets separated them from the chest down, he could feel enough of her, the bare skin of her arms, the satin of her hair, to become fully aroused while he slept.

He glanced at the watch on his wrist. Eight forty-five. It was time to wake her again, but he hesitated. For a moment he wanted to pretend. It felt damn good to have her in his arms. She felt softer than he remembered. He buried his nose in her hair and just breathed. He could stay like this forever.

The click of the front door brought him fully awake.

Voices followed.

"Wake up." A jolt of reality ripped through him. He gave Clea a gentle shake. "Someone's here. Wake up."

"What?" she mumbled, snuggling more fully against him.

"Mom," John called. Footsteps brought him closer.

"We're home," Robert echoed from the other room.

"John?" Clea tried to move, but her hair was caught beneath Nick's arm. She opened her eyes and they instantly widened when she realized the situation they were in. "Nick? Oh no."

"Clea?" Vivian Rose called.

The bedroom door flew open. Three pairs of astonished eyes pinned them where they were.

"My God, your head." Vivian rushed forward. "You didn't tell us you'd been hurt in the accident."

"John." Clea untangled herself from Nick and sat up. "This isn't what it looks like. I can explain."

"What the hell is he doing here!" Robert cried, before launching himself at Nick.

Robert charged the bed. "You son of a bitch!"

"Robert, stop," Clea cried.

Beside her, Nick threw the blanket off, meeting Robert halfway. "Calm down, Boomer. This isn't the time or the place for you to lose your temper."

"Why are you near her, you filthy loser?" Robert's hands hit Nick in the chest, shoving him. "Get the hell out of here."

To Clea's relief, Nick didn't push back, but there was an anger in his eyes that she prayed he'd hold in check.

John ran to her. "Mom, your head is hurt." He glared at Nick. "What did you do to my mom?"

"Everyone, please calm down," Clea said, knowing she needed to turn things around fast. "You're upsetting John." Her head pounded. Daylight streamed in through her bedroom window, making her eyes hurt. How on earth had she gotten so tangled up with Nick? She remembered falling asleep, but he'd been next to her, not intertwined with her.

"What exactly is going on here?" Robert demanded. He looked wildly around the room. "Someone tell me what's going on!"

Clea held a hand up to silence him. "Please." She reached for her son and pulled him down on the bed next to her. "I'm all right. I told you on the phone that I had a car accident yesterday. Nick's been taking care of me."

Nick no longer looked at Robert. At that moment he had eyes only for John. A myriad of emotions flashed across Nick's face, awe, hope, fear. She couldn't begin to imagine what it must be like for him to see his son in the flesh. She ached for both Nick and John. Two people who should know each other, but were strangers.

"John." Clea took a deep breath. "This is your father, Nick Lombard." She touched John's hair, but he jerked his head away, his wary eyes still on Nick.

She didn't want them to meet this way, under stressful circumstances, with her mother and Robert watching. What was between Nick and John was personal and emotional, not for onlookers.

"Hello, John," Nick said, a barely suppressed longing in his voice. He reached out, then pulled his hand back, as if he wanted desperately to touch his son, but didn't dare.

John kept his eyes downcast, but his silence said more than words could have.

There was so much Clea wanted to say, but not in front of Robert and her mother. She exchanged a glance with Nick and the naked hope in his eyes shook her.

"John," Clea said carefully. "Nick is here because I needed someone to take care of me last night. I got a bump on my head. A concussion."

"What!" Robert exclaimed, the anger in his eyes turning to concern. He sat on the edge of the bed. "Why didn't you tell us you were seriously hurt? I would have come at once."

"How badly were you injured?" Vivian said at the same time.

"I'm fine." Clea forced a smile of reassurance she didn't feel. "I foolishly thought I could make it up the mountain in the snow. I wanted to be with all of you. A car came around the hairpin corner in my lane and forced me off the road. I hit my head. I have a bump under this bandage, and some bruises, but I'm okay. My car, however, needs a little more work." Nick's eyes were on John. It was almost as if he couldn't look away, like he was trying to memorize every inch of John's face and body.

"Robert," Clea said, bringing Robert's attention to her. "I didn't want you to come in the snow. I couldn't have lived with myself if you'd had an accident, too. Nick towed my car, then he came to the hospital and drove me home. The doctor insisted he stay with me to wake me every two hours because of my head injury. It's been an exhausting night."

"So you're going to be okay?" John asked.

"Yes, honey," Clea confirmed, giving him a genuine smile. "I'm tired, but fine."