Nick stepped closer and picked up the vase. Then he handed it to her. “You can keep them even if you turn me down. They reminded me of you anyway, so it wouldn’t really work to keep them at my house. Because I’d just be reminded of how you turned me down.”

  She bit her bottom lip, but her eyes were amused. “Want to come in? See what masterpiece I’m working on that you’ll probably buy for ten grand?”

  He chuckled. “Lead the way.”

  She stepped back and opened the door wider.

  He passed by her, catching her scent of wildflowers, and paint, mixed with lilies. She shut the door, then she took the flowers to the coffee table, where she moved over a few magazines. She set the vase in the middle of the table, then straightened.

  Nick watched her movements, thinking maybe he should have texted her after all. Lauren had an intoxicating effect on him, and being alone with her, battling his thoughts, was entering the danger zone. Soft music played from one of the back rooms, something classical.

  Lauren turned to face him, a small smile on her face, which only made her look more lovely. “Why did you say the lilies remind you of me?”

  He glanced at the flowers, then back to her face. Maybe he should be honest and see where it took him. She’d invited him in, so that said something, right?

  “The petals are smooth like your skin,” he said. Lauren’s eyes widened. “And their color innocent white like your heart.” He paused, and Lauren’s mouth twitched as if she was holding back a smile or laugh. He was so enjoying this. “And . . . their fragrance is subtle like your personality.”

  The line between her brows appeared. “Did you google that?”

  “What?” Nick sputtered. “No. I might be a trained accountant, but I can string together a few words.”

  She smiled, and his heart melted. When she moved toward him, he could only stare. And when she grasped his arms and rose up on her toes to kiss his cheek, he couldn’t remember why he’d been second-guessing coming over here.

  What would she do if he pulled her into his arms and kissed her like he’d imagined for far too long?

  But Lauren had already moved away, leaving a whisper of her presence behind.

  He followed her down the hallway to a bedroom that had been converted into a studio. The music grew louder, and Nick asked, “You like classical?”

  “Some of it,” Lauren said. “I’m not too picky, but I’m sort of old-fashioned when it comes to music.”

  Nick stepped into the studio after Lauren. The room had no carpet, and several easels were scattered throughout the room. The room glowed nearly orange with the setting sun coming through the tall windows. The room smelled of paint, wildflowers, and Lauren. Blotches of paint speckled the floor, and everything had a warm, cozy feeling, like he’d stepped back in time to an old painter’s studio.

  Lauren moved among the half-finished paintings, pointing out some of the details. Nick was listening to all of her explanations, but he was mostly watching her. The tilt of her head, the quirk of her lips, and how she wrinkled her nose when he complimented her. How she moved away each time he closed the distance.

  “I paint in layers,” she said. “Then I let each layer dry on its own. So one miniature can take two weeks to complete because of the drying time.”

  He nodded. “Which is why you have so many in process at the same time?”

  Her blue eyes connected with his. “Right.”

  His hands went back into his pockets, and he kept them there. The music playlist she had running switched to a mellow jazz number. “Do you take requests?”

  “Um, I don’t know.” Her mouth quirked.

  “You don’t know?” he said, moving closer again. “Either you do or you don’t.”

  “I haven’t been asked before.” She shrugged and moved away again.

  Before she could bypass him, he grasped her hand. “Well, think about it,” he said in a low voice. “Because I’d like to make a request.”

  She looked up at him; she was so close that he could see the beating pulse at the hollow of her neck.

  “Tell me what it is, and then I’ll let you know.”

  “I haven’t decided yet,” he said. “I just know I want to make one.”

  She laughed, and he grinned. And she wasn’t moving away from him or releasing his hand, which made him doubly glad.

  “Okay, when you decide, let me know.” Her eyes clung to his, and he wondered if her heart was beating as hard as his was.

  “Okay,” he said.

  “Okay.” She smirked. “Why didn’t you text me, Mr. Matthews? I know you’re a busy man.”

  “I’m a very busy man,” he agreed, still holding her gaze. “But you said you don’t like texting.”

  “That’s because I have other things to do.”

  “I’m well aware of that, and so I was wondering if you had time to go for a drive on Sunday.”

  She pursed her lips. “A drive? That sounds really vague.”

  “There’s a little more to it than that, sweetheart.” He slipped his fingers through hers, testing, waiting.

  She inched closer. “Will food be involved?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.”

  He was surprised and elated, which might have explained his next impulsive move. He released her hand and cradled her face, barely touching her. She wasn’t drawing away, and her soft smile was the best invitation he could imagine. So he kissed her.

  Gently at first, because the last thing he wanted to do was startle her with the emotions clashing inside of him. Her lips were soft, warm, just as he knew they’d be, and she tasted sweet. He drew away a few inches to find that her eyes were closed.

  So he kissed her again, and this time she slid her arms around his waist.

  The feel of her body pressed against his was something his accountant mind couldn’t adequately describe as she relaxed into him and kissed him back, exploring and tasting him equally as he was her. He moved his hands behind her neck and buried his fingers in her long hair. The softness only heightened his senses, and he knew he couldn’t keep this kiss innocent for much longer. Reluctantly, he gave her a final, lingering kiss. Then he rested his forehead against hers.

  She slid her hands around his torso and up his chest, then drew away. Still, her eyes were closed, and their rapid breathing seemed to match.

  “Nick,” she whispered. “We can’t be doing this.”

  “But we are,” he countered.

  “Then we should stop. Now.” But her tone had no conviction behind it.

  “Okay, you stop first.”

  She laughed and slid her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He obliged, and his mouth found hers again.

  Nick didn’t know how much time they spent kissing in the middle of her studio, but by the time they both decided they really had to stop, the sun had set and the purples of twilight swathed the room.

  “I need to tell you something.” Nick slid his hands down her arms, then linked both of her hands with his.

  Her blue eyes were hazy, and her lips were swollen with his thorough kissing. He didn’t think she could be more beautiful than she was at this moment.

  “I hope it’s something good.”

  “Well, that depends on how you look at it,” Nick said. “Our drive on Sunday has a destination.”

  A line appeared between Lauren’s brows. “Not food?”

  “There will be food, but it’s a fundraiser gala for literacy awareness in conjunction with my mother’s magazine, and she’s the hostess.”

  Lauren stared at Nick as he told her that his mother was going to be part of their outing on Sunday.

  “I thought I’d bring you,” he said, “and she could meet you, and—”

  “Wait.” Lauren placed two fingers on his mouth because all of this was hard to comprehend. “You want me to meet your mother? We haven’t even been on a date.”

  Nick got that sheepish look on his face, the one that was kind of adorable. Not to mention the tilt of his lips—lips she was now very familiar with and wouldn’t mind kissing again. But to meet his mother?

  Tammy’s words returned, about some woman—Chelsey—whom his mother apparently wanted him to get together with and probably even marry.

  “I don’t think so,” Lauren said. “I mean, I think we should date more before that happens. Or really . . . we shouldn’t be dating at all. You know how complicated things are—”

  He didn’t seem to be listening, because he only pulled her into his arms again and then started kissing her neck.

  “I can’t think straight when you do that,” she said, already breathless.

  “That’s the point,” he murmured.

  His breath tickled, and she squirmed with laughter, but his hold was solid, and all she accomplished was edging closer to his warm, solid torso. Which was pretty much heaven.

  She supposed that spending so much time with this man—handsome, charming, interested in everything she told him, not to mention his protectiveness over her—would lead to a kiss or two . . . But she was pretty much feeling like he’d found a way into her heart. And that was the last thing she could let happen. No matter that he knew her past, her family’s curse, and all the complications that brought; he didn’t seem to mind.

  His phone buzzed, and although he ignored it, Lauren said, “I think that’s a sign. You know, you should stop kissing me, and I should get back to work.”

  He lifted his head and with one hand took his phone out of his pocket and turned off the ringer. “I think you have too many rules.”

  “I’m practical.”

  Nick smiled. “Which could be considered a blessing or a curse.”

  “Whatever,” she said with a laugh.

  He linked their hands, although his closeness made her want to continue the kissing that he’d started.

  “So . . . can I pick you up Sunday?” he asked.

  She bit her lip. Sunday suddenly felt far away, but it would be completely impractical to suggest that she’d like to see him before Sunday. “I’m thinking about it.”

  His gaze moved over her face, and the longing in his eyes made heat pool deep in her belly. “I could kiss you again,” he said in a low voice.

  She’d been thoroughly kissed by this man already, yet he was still making her blush. “I don’t take bribes.”

  Nick chuckled and pulled her against him, wrapping his arms about her shoulders. “I think I’m learning that you’ll never be easy to convince of anything. So I guess I’ll exercise my infinite patience and hope for the best.”

  He smelled so wonderful that she almost gave in right then and there. But she truly wanted to think about his suggestion while not in his intoxicating presence.

  Her heart wasn’t in any hurry for him to leave, but her mind was telling her something else. More accurately, warning her.

  By the time Nick left her condo, Lauren felt like her world had shifted. For better or for worse, she didn’t know yet. After locking the double bolts on her door, she sank onto the living room couch and tucked her feet beneath her. Wrapping her arms about herself, she closed her eyes. She imagined Nick climbing into that expensive sports car of his, driving back to his multimillion-dollar beach house. Running companies all across the world. Making deals left and right. Traveling to Italy.

  Living. Really living.

  Her life was centered in a small condo, littered with paints and canvases, as she created works of juxtaposition. Yes, she could live a bigger life if she wanted to. Her bank account could definitely support a lifestyle to rival any millionaire, but the thought of putting herself out there, beyond the occasional gallery event or fundraising dinner, was daunting.

  She wasn’t charismatic. She was private. She liked the quiet. And she liked being able to take each day as it came and not chase the almighty agenda.

  Nick was so . . . opposite of her. Yet the touch of his hands at her waist, the warmth of his mouth, the urgency of his kisses, the way that his hazel eyes captured hers . . . Her skin buzzed, even now, as she thought about him.

  Nick was a temptation, an intoxicating ambrosia. That was all.

  So. Maybe she should go with him Sunday. Meet his mother. Prove to herself that their worlds could never coexist. Based on what little Tammy had implied, Nick’s mother wouldn’t care for Lauren. And any woman in her right mind wouldn’t come between a man and his closest family member.

  Besides, Lauren couldn’t allow herself to believe that Nick saw her as anything more than a short-term conquest. A fling, maybe. She’d intrigued him because she wasn’t the norm, and maybe he’d been taken off center by that. So he was curious. Just like she was curious about him.

  She hadn’t really expected his humor, his generosity, or his attention to detail—his attention to her.

  Her gaze landed on the vase of lilies on her coffee table. They were so elegant, so purely white, it was hard to believe they were a real, living plant. Almost untouchable. She was far from what he described, and although she knew her own flaws inside and out, it was as if he looked past all of them.

  “Nick,” she breathed. “What am I going to do about you? Things between us are impossible.”

  When her phone buzzed, she startled in the quiet. She pulled the phone from her pocket, and her heart fluttered without her permission when she saw the text from Nick.

  Still thinking? he’d written.

  She read it a couple of times, unable to stop the smile on her face. He must have just returned to his beach house, and she was still on his mind.

  She wrote back: Are you putting me on a deadline, Mr. Matthews?

  It was flirty, and it wasn’t helping her reluctance. But her heart didn’t seem to care about her mind’s warnings.

  No deadline, but I’ll be checking in every hour.

  Lauren laughed. Then she typed: Don’t you have something better to do?

  I have a lot of things to do, but I have my priorities as well.

  She was blushing again. And she was now wishing she hadn’t chased him out of her condo so soon. With a sigh, she rose to her feet. It was nearly dark, and she’d already put in a full day of painting, so maybe she’d call it a night. Order takeout, stream a movie, and think about what it would be like not to have a curse hanging over her head.

  Instead, she spent the next hour scrolling through websites, looking at dresses. Something that she might wear if she were to go with Nick on Sunday. Was his mother a traditional, formal person? Or was she flamboyant, with streaks of color in her hair and gobs of jewelry?

  Lauren paused when she saw a strappy peach dress. It wasn’t too formal, and it was pretty in a summery way. She loved it. Without analyzing her thought process, she clicked on the order button and selected one-day delivery. It wasn’t her normal style to be so impulsive, but suddenly she wanted to see Nick’s face when he saw her in that dress.

  Assuming she would go.

  She closed the browser and opened her Kindle app to pull up a historical novel she’d started the week before. As of now, she was ninety-nine percent sure she’d go with Nick to his mother’s event. But . . . she’d make him wait until tomorrow to find out.

  Lauren woke up early, even before the birds. She turned over in the dark and faced the window of her bedroom. The grayness of the light coming in told her that dawn was approaching. She thought about the day before, when Nick had come over and brought her flowers. And had then kissed her.

  She waited for the regret to form. For her nerves to get the better of her. But she only felt warm and content. She wanted to see Nick again, and she wondered if he was awake right now. Or maybe he was sleeping because of another middle-of-the-night conference call.

  She lifted her phone from the nightstand next to her bed and scrolled through the texts from the night before. They made her smile again. She thought of the dress she’d ordered and express shipped.

  Realizing that she wanted to go with Nick, even if it meant meeting his mother, Lauren closed her eyes, allowing herself to feel what she was feeling. She liked Nick, a lot. Would going with him only set herself up for future disappointment?

  Maybe she could consider this date as casual and fun. With no commitments or expectation. If things went further, then she’d have to put a stop to that in order to protect her heart. Because Nick definitely had the potential to be a heartbreaker.

  Lauren looked at the text strand again, then typed in a message: I bought a dress.

  She didn’t expect him to be awake, let alone reply right away. But the three dots of his reply danced on her screen before a message popped up.

  Good morning to you too.

  Lauren smiled, her skin heating. You’re up early, she wrote.

  I’m up late, he replied. I haven’t gone to sleep yet.

  Sorry, am I keeping you awake?

  Her phone rang. Well, she couldn’t ignore it or pretend she was busy when they were in the middle of a text conversation. Her pulse thrummed regardless.

  “Hi,” she said. She hoped he couldn’t hear the breathlessness in that single word.

  “What color’s the dress?” Nick’s deep voice rasped over the phone. Not because he’d just woken up, but because he hadn’t gone to bed yet.

  “Peach.”

  She heard the smile in his voice when he said, “Does three o’clock work?”

  “Why so early?” She relaxed on her pillows and gazed up at the ceiling.

  “I want to make a couple of stops along the way.”

  She exhaled, trying to keep her heart rate mellow. “Like what?”

  “Can a man not have any surprises?”

  Lauren smiled. “Okay, three works.”

  Nick sat in his car for a few moments after pulling into Lauren’s condo parking lot, trying to analyze how he felt. Nervous. It was an unnatural feeling for him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been nervous about something. But he guessed that the prospect of introducing a woman, specifically Lauren Ambrose, to his mother had done it.

  The fundraising gala was dressy but not formal, so instead of a suit coat, he simply wore a shirt and tie. But it wasn’t his own choice of clothing he was thinking about, it was what Lauren might be wearing. He hadn’t seen her since the day he’d dropped in on her. The day they’d kissed.

 

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