"He really did a number on you, didn't he, Red?"
"I would prefer not to talk about my marriage."
"You prefer letting all that pain fester inside you like an infected wound? That's a mistake."
"What would you have me do? Pour out my heart and soul to you so that you can comfort me? Is your male ego so enormous that you think you have to prove to me how wrong my ex-husband was about me? Is that what this is all about? You want to prove that you're man enough to make the ugly, frigid, little rich girl enjoy sex for the first time in her life?"
Nick hadn't expected such a vehement reaction. Obviously, he'd struck a nerve, a sexual nerve. He took a generous sip from his own wineglass, then set it beside Addy's on the table. "Did you love Carlton when you married him?" Nick wasn't sure why he wanted her answer to be negative. What difference did it make if Addy had loved her ex-husband? It was apparent she despised the man now.
"What?" Dammit! How could she have allowed herself to lose control the way she had? She hadn't meant to blurt out such personal information, but Nick had angered her. Somehow this man she'd known for a little over twenty-four hours had a way of provoking her strongest emotions. Her first impression of him had been right. He was a dangerous man.
"Did you love Carlton?"
"I think so. It was no grand passion or anything like that. I was twenty-five and I'd lived a fairly sheltered life. Men weren't exactly beating a path to my door. Gerald was charming and attentive and—and Daddy liked him."
"But you weren't in love with him?"
"I have no idea what being in love means." Addy jumped up, her hands knotted into fists as they rested against her hips. "I don't want to talk to you about Gerald or about love or sex. Daddy's paying you to be my bodyguard, not my psychiatrist, so just leave me alone."
Nick stood up, reached down, picked up her wineglass and handed it to her. "I'd say you've been left alone for too log."
Hesitating briefly, she took the glass, making sure their hands didn't touch. "I like being alone. It's preferable to spending time with insufferably macho men who think a Plain Jane like me should be grateful they've shown an interest."
Nick laughed aloud at her words. Plain Jane indeed. Was it possible, really possible, that Addy had no idea how incredibly lovely she looked right this minute? Had her ex-husband totally destroyed her confidence in her sexual attractiveness? Damn, what Nick would give for five minutes alone with Gerald Carlton!
Stepping away from Nick, Addy downed the remainder of her wine, then set the glass on a nearby chest. Nick set his glass beside hers, then with a swift move that alarmed Addy, he stepped behind her, grasping one shoulder.
"What are you doing?" Her voice was breathless. His big hand clutched her silk-covered shoulder as he gave her a gentle nudge forward. "Nick, stop it!"
"I want to show you something," he said, giving her another shove. "Move, woman."
She balked, refusing to budge another inch. "Stop shoving me around and stop giving me orders. What's gotten into you?"
"I want you to walk out into the foyer."
"Why?"
"I told you. I want to show you something."
"This is my house. What could you possibly show me that I haven't seen a hundred times?" she asked, trying to pull away from him. He held her shoulder firmly.
"You have two choices," Nick said. "Either you march your little fanny out into the foyer or I'll carry you."
"You wouldn't dare." She eyed his cane.
"Try me."
She didn't bother to turn around and face Nick. She didn't have to see the look on his face to know he was serious. She could hear the determination in his voice. She knew that if he had to carry her, he would, even if walking unaided by his cane might be painful for him.
"Oh, all right." The day had been almost more than she could bear. Accepting Nick as a live-in bodyguard despite her desire to remain free. Finding out that the man who'd attempted to kidnap her last night had met a deadly fate at the hands of some unknown person or persons still intent on harming her. Realizing that, for the first time in her life, she was sexually attracted to a man. Strongly, irrationally attracted to a man she had begun to think of as her personal champion.
She simply wasn't up to any more emotional upheaval. She didn't have the strength to fight Nick. Not right now.
With his hand firmly planted on her shoulder, Nick guided her out into the foyer. Momentarily releasing her, he flipped the switch that turned on the chandelier. Light, glittering off the cut crystal, flooded the entrance hall.
Nick led her to the enormous gilt-framed mirror that hung on a side wall. He set his cane aside. Confusion filled Addy's mind and heart when Nick, standing behind her, his big, dark hands draping her shoulders like bronze claws, positioned her directly in front of the rectangular looking glass.
She tried to avert her eyes, as if afraid of what her reflection would reveal. When she gazed down at her feet, Nick released one shoulder, taking her chin in his hand and tilting her face upward. She closed her eyes. Whatever he was trying to do, she wanted no part of it. She wasn't going to let him make her see something she didn't want to see.
With his lips close to her ear, he whispered, "Open your eyes, Addy, and tell me what you see."
He ran his hand down her neck, caressing her throat. Then he reached out and encircled her waist with his arm, pulling her back against him. She felt his hard arousal against her buttocks. Inadvertently she cried out.
"Open your eyes."
"No." The word escaped from her throat on a tormented breath.
"If you're afraid to take a good look at yourself and tell me what you see, then just listen and I'll tell you what I see."
"Please, Nick—don't."
He splayed his hand across her stomach. She jerked, an instinctive reaction that could have been fear or passion. Nick knew enough about women to understand that Addy was afraid. More of herself than of him.
"I see a woman, Addy. A woman. Not a girl and not even a lady, though I know that you are a lady in every sense of the word."
She squirmed against him, trying to pull away, wishing she could escape before he said anymore. "I hate you."
"No, you don't." His voice was deep and dark and incredibly sensuous. "You hate yourself, don't you, Addy? I'm making you feel like a woman and that frightens you."
"Why are you doing this to me?" She struggled against him. He held her tightly.
"God, Red, stop that! You've already got me so hot I'm about to lose it."
She stopped moving and stood perfectly still. His words seeped into her consciousness. Her body stiffened with denial, not wanting to admit that she was every bit as aroused as he was.
He ran his fingers through her hair, lifting it and watching the titian strands fall back to her shoulders as he released them. "You have beautiful hair. It's like fiery silk. Thick, wavy flames."
When he pulled her closer and closer against him, she didn't resist. He was weaving a spell with his words, words that she warned herself didn't mean a thing. Nick was a practiced lover, a Latin Romeo with the ability to charm any woman. She couldn't let him charm her. She didn't dare.
"Your skin," he said, caressing her neck, pushing aside her silk robe to fondle her shoulder. "Your skin is soft and smooth. All of your little freckles intrigue me. I'd like to kiss every one of them, and someday—someday soon—I will."
Addy drew in deep breaths trying to calm her raging senses. Don't listen to him, she told herself. He doesn't mean what he's saying.
He moved his hand downward, over her breasts, barely grazing her tight nipples. She closed her mouth, biting off a cry of excitement. Both of his hands spanned her waist. "Your body is sleek and slender and infinitely fascinating. When I first saw you, I thought you were flat-chested. I was wrong." He covered her small breasts with his hands, lifting their delicate weight, brushing her nipples with his thumbs. "They're high and firm and fill my hands. And I love the way your nipples hardened at my touch. You're a very responsive woman, Addy. Did you know that?"