From This Moment On
Page 6
And yet, she couldn’t manage to pull her gaze away from his—or stop herself from feeling any of those things—as she said, “Thank you for telling me that.”
“It was my pleasure, Nicola.”
“I’m sorry I bothered you so late,” she said suddenly, hating that she’d worried his mother with her out-of-the-blue call.
“It’s no problem at all, although I would love to speak with Marcus for a moment.”
“I’ll give him the phone right now, Mary. And thank you.” Nicola held the phone out, hardly able to believe she was saying, “Your mother wants to speak with you.”
This night wasn’t going at all the way she’d thought it would. Well, the meeting a ridiculously gorgeous guy in a club part was right on track, but calling his mom to be reassured that she wasn’t going to end the night in a body bag...that just didn’t happen in her world. In anyone’s world, actually.
The conversation with his mother made her feel almost as if she’d met him at some family gathering, rather than at a seedy club downtown.
She watched him listen to whatever his mother was saying. A slight frown moved across his face before he said, “Yes, tonight. Before the party,” and then, “Don’t worry, I will. Good night.”
He slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Do you feel better now?”
“Your mom seems really nice,” she said, rather than answer the question that suddenly seemed a thousand times more loaded than it had ten minutes ago, especially after the awkward phone call she’d just made to his mother. She shifted on the seat. Too late, she realized her short leather dress had ridden up nearly high enough to flash Marcus a big huge chunk of bare thigh.
“She’s great,” he told her, even as his eyes moved to the skin he couldn’t possibly miss, then back up to her face.
His jaw was tight, his expression full of desire...and something else she couldn’t quite decipher. It was, she finally decided, almost as if he was warring with himself over wanting her.
Just as she was warring with herself over wanting him.
The taxi driver interrupted them. “Are you going or not?”
Marcus looked at her. “Nicola?”
If he’d said her name differently, if there’d been any pressure, any demands behind it, she might still have said no and gotten the heck out of there.
But his question was gentle enough to have her suddenly making up her mind. “I do feel better. Much better. I’m ready to go with you now.”
He reached across her lap to close her door, then told the driver, “The Fairmont.”
Her muscles instantly tensed again. Here she’d just convinced herself he wasn’t some creepy star-stalker. Had she been wrong? Did he know she was staying at the Fairmont?
Obviously sensing her sudden discomfort, he turned to her and said in a low voice, “I don’t live in San Francisco. The Fairmont is the best hotel in town.”
She nodded. “It is.”
He gave her a strange look and she realized she’d almost given herself away. Marcus clearly had no idea who she was, didn’t know that no one had called her Nicola in half a decade at least. If they went to her hotel, he’d find out the truth as soon as they pulled up in front of the building.
Trying to think quickly was difficult when sitting this close to him sent her synapses flying off in a billion different directions, but she finally managed to say, “Is there anywhere we could go that isn’t a hotel?”
“Your place is off limits?”
Again, she nodded, hoping he wasn’t going to ask her for an explanation. She didn’t want to outright lie to him, didn’t want to have to make up some excuse about roommates. She didn’t want to tell him she wasn’t from San Francisco, either.
It was a heck of a position to be in, she suddenly realized. Here she was on the verge of taking off all her clothes with some total stranger, but she didn’t want him to actually learn anything about her apart from how she liked to be kissed. Sure, he’d find out soon enough. As soon as he went back to his home—wherever it was—he was bound to see her face on some magazine somewhere, probably next to his from whatever pictures had been taken of them at the club.
But for one night she didn’t want to have to live up to being Nico.
Instead, she wanted the chance to see what Nicola liked, what Nicola wanted, what Nicola desired. Then again, she supposed she already knew at least one answer to each of those questions.
She liked, wanted, and desired Marcus.
And now that she was this close to the promise of real pleasure with him, she couldn’t stand the thought of losing that chance.
As soon as she confirmed her place wasn’t an option, he pulled his phone back out and texted something to someone. When it beeped in response a few seconds later, he gave the driver a street address. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out that he had a friend in the area with a place they could use.
She smiled at him. “Thank you.” She’d always been a tactile person and without thinking, she put her hand on his arm to emphasize her words. His hard—and big—biceps twitched beneath her fingertips and she jumped. But before she could pull away, he covered her hand with his.
Oh God, what was she doing? What made her think she could actually do this? What made her think she could go home with a total stranger?
Maybe if she’d had more experience with men she could have rolled with it better. But she couldn’t even handle touching his arm, for God’s sake! How was she possibly going to deal with seeing him naked?
Or touching him in other, much more intimate places?
Nicola belatedly realized Marcus was lightly stroking her hand with his fingers, as if she was a wild animal that needed to be calmed before it bolted. After only a handshake, and now this gentle caressing, she wasn’t sure he could ever touch her in a way that didn’t send her cells into Jell-O overdrive. And yet, at the same time, his gentle caresses were incredibly soothing.
Each stroke of his fingers over hers seemed to say, I understand that you’re nervous and that’s okay. I’m going to take good care of you tonight. Just as I didn’t rush you to make a decision to leave with me in the cab, I’m not going to rush you into anything you’re not ready for in bed, either.
Slowly relaxing again, she let herself scoot a little closer to him, close enough that it was pure instinct to lean her head against his broad shoulder. This time, she felt him tense beneath her touch. But before she could freak out about doing the wrong thing, he was wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her in tighter.
“It was my pleasure, Nicola.”
“I’m sorry I bothered you so late,” she said suddenly, hating that she’d worried his mother with her out-of-the-blue call.
“It’s no problem at all, although I would love to speak with Marcus for a moment.”
“I’ll give him the phone right now, Mary. And thank you.” Nicola held the phone out, hardly able to believe she was saying, “Your mother wants to speak with you.”
This night wasn’t going at all the way she’d thought it would. Well, the meeting a ridiculously gorgeous guy in a club part was right on track, but calling his mom to be reassured that she wasn’t going to end the night in a body bag...that just didn’t happen in her world. In anyone’s world, actually.
The conversation with his mother made her feel almost as if she’d met him at some family gathering, rather than at a seedy club downtown.
She watched him listen to whatever his mother was saying. A slight frown moved across his face before he said, “Yes, tonight. Before the party,” and then, “Don’t worry, I will. Good night.”
He slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Do you feel better now?”
“Your mom seems really nice,” she said, rather than answer the question that suddenly seemed a thousand times more loaded than it had ten minutes ago, especially after the awkward phone call she’d just made to his mother. She shifted on the seat. Too late, she realized her short leather dress had ridden up nearly high enough to flash Marcus a big huge chunk of bare thigh.
“She’s great,” he told her, even as his eyes moved to the skin he couldn’t possibly miss, then back up to her face.
His jaw was tight, his expression full of desire...and something else she couldn’t quite decipher. It was, she finally decided, almost as if he was warring with himself over wanting her.
Just as she was warring with herself over wanting him.
The taxi driver interrupted them. “Are you going or not?”
Marcus looked at her. “Nicola?”
If he’d said her name differently, if there’d been any pressure, any demands behind it, she might still have said no and gotten the heck out of there.
But his question was gentle enough to have her suddenly making up her mind. “I do feel better. Much better. I’m ready to go with you now.”
He reached across her lap to close her door, then told the driver, “The Fairmont.”
Her muscles instantly tensed again. Here she’d just convinced herself he wasn’t some creepy star-stalker. Had she been wrong? Did he know she was staying at the Fairmont?
Obviously sensing her sudden discomfort, he turned to her and said in a low voice, “I don’t live in San Francisco. The Fairmont is the best hotel in town.”
She nodded. “It is.”
He gave her a strange look and she realized she’d almost given herself away. Marcus clearly had no idea who she was, didn’t know that no one had called her Nicola in half a decade at least. If they went to her hotel, he’d find out the truth as soon as they pulled up in front of the building.
Trying to think quickly was difficult when sitting this close to him sent her synapses flying off in a billion different directions, but she finally managed to say, “Is there anywhere we could go that isn’t a hotel?”
“Your place is off limits?”
Again, she nodded, hoping he wasn’t going to ask her for an explanation. She didn’t want to outright lie to him, didn’t want to have to make up some excuse about roommates. She didn’t want to tell him she wasn’t from San Francisco, either.
It was a heck of a position to be in, she suddenly realized. Here she was on the verge of taking off all her clothes with some total stranger, but she didn’t want him to actually learn anything about her apart from how she liked to be kissed. Sure, he’d find out soon enough. As soon as he went back to his home—wherever it was—he was bound to see her face on some magazine somewhere, probably next to his from whatever pictures had been taken of them at the club.
But for one night she didn’t want to have to live up to being Nico.
Instead, she wanted the chance to see what Nicola liked, what Nicola wanted, what Nicola desired. Then again, she supposed she already knew at least one answer to each of those questions.
She liked, wanted, and desired Marcus.
And now that she was this close to the promise of real pleasure with him, she couldn’t stand the thought of losing that chance.
As soon as she confirmed her place wasn’t an option, he pulled his phone back out and texted something to someone. When it beeped in response a few seconds later, he gave the driver a street address. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out that he had a friend in the area with a place they could use.
She smiled at him. “Thank you.” She’d always been a tactile person and without thinking, she put her hand on his arm to emphasize her words. His hard—and big—biceps twitched beneath her fingertips and she jumped. But before she could pull away, he covered her hand with his.
Oh God, what was she doing? What made her think she could actually do this? What made her think she could go home with a total stranger?
Maybe if she’d had more experience with men she could have rolled with it better. But she couldn’t even handle touching his arm, for God’s sake! How was she possibly going to deal with seeing him naked?
Or touching him in other, much more intimate places?
Nicola belatedly realized Marcus was lightly stroking her hand with his fingers, as if she was a wild animal that needed to be calmed before it bolted. After only a handshake, and now this gentle caressing, she wasn’t sure he could ever touch her in a way that didn’t send her cells into Jell-O overdrive. And yet, at the same time, his gentle caresses were incredibly soothing.
Each stroke of his fingers over hers seemed to say, I understand that you’re nervous and that’s okay. I’m going to take good care of you tonight. Just as I didn’t rush you to make a decision to leave with me in the cab, I’m not going to rush you into anything you’re not ready for in bed, either.
Slowly relaxing again, she let herself scoot a little closer to him, close enough that it was pure instinct to lean her head against his broad shoulder. This time, she felt him tense beneath her touch. But before she could freak out about doing the wrong thing, he was wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her in tighter.
