And, true to his word, before ten minutes have passed, I watch his glossy black BMW slide up to the curb. One of the hotel valets steps out to greet him, but Nick waves off the assistance. Hurrying under the marquis entrance of the stately hotel, he pushes through one of the revolving doors and finds me inside.
“Avery.”
As it always does, my stomach flips at the sight of him. He’s dressed in a graphite gray suit, the jacket open over his white shirt. No tie today, but even with the top two buttons of his collar unfastened in an office-casual way, he still looks every inch a world-class business titan.
I sense more than see, the attention Nick draws simply by entering the building. As if he brings a live electrical charge inside with him, a jolt of awareness travels the high-ceilinged, sumptuous lobby. And it’s no wonder, really.
Dominic Baine is as gorgeous as he is rich and powerful. And within his carved, devastatingly handsome face, his breathtaking bright blue eyes are locked unwaveringly on me.
I know he must be aware of the attention he’s stirring, but for all of his discretion and reputed secrecy regarding his personal life, Nick seems not to care in the least. As I rise from my seat on one of the lobby’s sofas, he is right there, collecting me into his arms. I am enfolded in a strong, protective embrace that makes me feel safer than I have at any other moment in my life.
After a few seconds, he pulls back to look at me. His frown deepens, solemn with concern. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” I give a small shake of my head, hoping he’ll understand that I’m not ready to talk. Just as he has, I too have my own walls. Steep walls no one can climb. And as much as my heart wavers now, especially when Nick is holding me in his arms, I’m not yet ready to let him in.
What’s more, deep down, I know I won’t ever be able to let him in. Not without seeing his concern turn to pity and disgust—or something even worse.
He studies me, and while I’m sure his keen gaze can see all of the cracks in me as no one else ever has, he seems to understand that pressing will only make me break.
“I don’t want to talk, Nick. I don’t want to think about anything for a little while, okay?”
“Okay.” He strokes the side of my face, his touch gentle as he continues silently assessing my wellbeing. “I know just the place for that.”
Chapter 25
As soon as we get into the car, Nick calls Lily and instructs her to clear his schedule for the rest of the day. I don’t know what he has in mind for us, nor does it matter. Seated beside him in the BMW, his fingers curved over the top of my thigh as he smoothly navigates the afternoon traffic, I already have everything I need.
After we’ve been driving through the city for a little while, he slants me a look. “I hope you like seafood?”
“I love it.”
“Excellent. I want to take you to one of my favorite spots.”
I can’t even begin to guess where that might be, especially now that he’s heading toward the tunnel that will take us to Queens. “Are you going to tell me the name of it?”
“Nope.”
“Not even a hint?”
Now he arches a dark brow in my direction. “What’s the matter, you don’t like surprises?”
“Not particularly.”
In fact, I hate surprises. I’ve had too many in my life, beginning at the age of seven, on the day I learned that my father had died of a massive heart attack. Followed a few years later by the surprise news that my mom had met a nice family man from another town and I was getting a new stepfather. Which was then followed by the further surprise of seeing her with a black eye for the first time. Then, not long afterward, a broken arm.
There were other surprises, too, culminating in the most horrific of them all on that day nine years ago.
I’ve gone quiet, lost in troubling memories, and, of course Nick doesn’t miss the change in my mood. The hand resting lightly on my thigh now lifts to my cheek. His touch is so tender it nearly breaks me.
“You’ll like this surprise, I promise.”
I don’t know if he understands how profoundly his reassurance affects me. He can’t, of course, and if I’m being honest with myself, I hope to hell he never does. I hope he never learns how ugly my past is—or how brutally it all came crashing down.
I want to pretend, even for just a little while, that this is my reality. I want to imagine that I know what it’s like to be unburdened with secrets and lies. More than anything, I want to savor whatever Nick has in store for us and pretend that we are simply a normal couple enjoying a normal date together.
Determined to do just that, I settle back as we continue the drive through Queens. When we approach Cross Bay Boulevard, I think I’ve got his plan figured out.