Because, well, she enjoyed the hell out of him. Her grandfather was FBI, her father had been a judge, so she was used to tough guys, but Nick was something else entirely. Like he'd invented the tough guy persona-super tough, capable, absolutely mesmerizing. When she was with him, he threw a force field of sex and protection around her. It was as if he bent gravity. She'd loved every single second she'd ever spent with him and she'd thought of him constantly, even while running away from him.
Nick picked up his fork, speared a mozzarella ball and frowned at her. "Eat," he growled.
She sighed, picked up her own fork, put a hot stuffed olive on her plate and pushed it around. Her stomach was closed, there was no way she could eat anything. Every muscle in her body was tense, tightly knitted. It felt that if she put food down her throat, it would just bounce right back out.
He made a gesture and she put the olive in her mouth. Chewed. Swallowed. It was delicious, a little ball of warmth sliding down her gullet and into her closed stomach, which opened, just a little.
"Drink," he growled, and she took a sip of wine, which tasted like sunshine and joy.
He narrowed his eyes at her, only gleaming darkness showing. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
Yes, it was hard. This whole thing was hard.
God, he looked so amazingly sexy. The soft overhead lighting picked out the edges to his face, his hair so black it looked faintly blue. He was so fixed on her it felt like a spotlight had been turned on. Kay wasn't used to being under the intense focus of a man like this-usually she was the focus of bland attention by bland males. Fellow scientists, the odd pharmaceutical company executive or CDC manager. All men who basically found money or power or science more interesting than she was.
Nick was hotly focused on her.
Nick was the most fascinating man she'd ever met, she was half in love with him, and she was going to take a leap into an abyss from which she might never return.
"Whoa there."
She looked up, frowning. Nick had put down his fork and gently pinched her chin. He rotated her head left and right, checking her out. His scowl was gone, replaced by something that looked like worry. Only that was crazy. Nick Mancino didn't do worry. Everything in his world was under his control.
His eyes held hers. "What's wrong?" That deep voice was gentle, and for some insane reason, she had to blink back tears.
She tried the smile again. Practice makes perfect. "Nothing." She lifted her head, hoping to escape those strong fingers, but he held fast to her chin. He wasn't hurting her but he wasn't letting go either.
"Bullshit," he said, his voice still gentle.
This was a very bad mistake. She should go before she broke down in tears and told him everything. Which would be an even worse mistake, because Nick Mancino would not approve of what she was about to do, and when he disapproved of something, there were consequences.
So-get out of here, fast, she told herself, running through possible excuses that didn't sound insane. Headache, stomach ache, vague female complaint. That last one should do it. No guy wants details on female problems.
"I, ah." She coughed to loosen a tight throat. "I don't feel too well. I think I should go."
Nick barely registered her words. He was studying her face the way a sniper studies the battlefield. "You don't look well," he said finally. "You've got bags under your eyes and you're very pale underneath your makeup. God knows you're still beautiful-nothing less than a gunny sack over your head would change that-but there's something wrong." He drew his hand away slowly, making it a caress. "What's wrong, honey?"
Kay blinked. Her heart had given a huge thump in her chest when he'd used the term of endearment. Oh God. This was getting out of control. She should get up right now and walk out. Nick wouldn't follow her if she made it clear that she didn't want him to. But that was the thing-she wasn't capable of simply getting up and leaving. And she was certainly incapable of pretending she didn't care about him. In her state, nerves on edge, with sleepless nights and worry gnawing at her every single moment, she didn't have the strength to pull it off.
But she had to do something. She'd found it possible to resist tough-guy Nick, but this gentle Nick, dark eyes watching her with sympathy and something else … Nope. Couldn't do it. The truth was out of the question, but she could skirt it.
"Work," she said, her voice slightly hoarse. She cleared it. "Work. I'm having some issues at work."
His black eyebrows drew together. "Considering what you do, that's really alarming."