The Boss's Baby Affair(48)
After the waitress left with their orders, Candace changed the subject. “Bertha seems very fond of you.”
“She’s known me a long time. Henry, her husband, employed me when I landed in trouble as a teenager for playing hooky from school.”
“I got the impression you lived nearby?”
His fingers stilled, and Candace breathed a sigh of relief.
“Yes,” he said with clear reluctance. “I lived with my grandmother—she had a vegetable garden and used to send me to buy seed from the center.”
Getting personal information out of Nick was like trying to get blood from a stone. “And your parents?”
He shrugged. “They moved to live in Kenya when I was ten years old. They took Alison with them because she was only a baby. My grandmother thought it would be better for me to stay with her and get an education. It might’ve been better if I’d gone with my parents—I would certainly have gotten into a lot less trouble. Henry’s offer of a summer job probably saved my grandmother from shipping me off to Africa to avoid expulsion from school.”
He must’ve missed his parents. Candace’s heart ached for him. “Did you see them often?”
“No, they’ve never been back to New Zealand—they still live in Kenya,” he added as she started to ask. “But Alison came back for my grandmother’s funeral, and she chose to stay on.”
Candace wasn’t letting him off the hook. She wanted to know more about what made Nick Valentine tick. “You’re very close to Alison.”
Lifting one shoulder, he let it fall. “She’s my sister.”
No confessions of endless devotion. But what had she expected? Yet she’d seen the way they teased each other and the clear bond of affection between them.
“Nick, why do you always want me to think the worst of you?”
A flush crawled along the side of his neck.
There was a long pause before he replied huskily, “Perhaps it’s safer that way.” He dropped his arm off the back of her chair, moved his chair around until he sat opposite her, then added, “Here come our appetizers.”
“That’s right, change the subject,” she muttered, incredibly annoyed for some reason that she couldn’t fathom.
The waitress set down their orders, then moved an ice bucket beside their table and placed the bottle of wine in the ice. Candace refused the offer of wine, and dug silently into the bowl of chowder she’d ordered.
When she’d finished, she set down her spoon and asked, “Do you ever talk about important stuff?”
“What important stuff?”
Candace gave an impatient sigh. “You’re a master at this, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But the wariness in the indigo gaze told her Nick knew precisely what she meant and he was equally determined to avoid the issue.
“You know, I might have thought you were a bad father—”
“Hey, wait a min—”
“—but I never had you tagged for a coward.”
Anger flared, turning his eyes that blacker shade of midnight and his head went back. “A coward?”
“Yes, a coward. You’re afraid of talking about anything that matters.”
“You’ve been gossiping with my sister,” he said tonelessly.
“No, I haven’t. But how interesting that we agree.” Candace drew a deep, steadying breath. Ah, well, she’d started this; there was no turning back now. “You’re afraid of intimacy.”
“You know nothing about me!”
“Because you don’t allow anyone to get close?”
His face had tightened into an expressionless mask. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your wife loved you—you didn’t let even her inside.”
Nick bent forward and spoke in a soft, forceful voice. “My wife never loved me. She wanted to own me, possess my every waking thought, my soul. That’s not love.”
For the first time, the facade had cracked and she’d glimpsed anger and a ferocious passion that caused the tiny hairs on her arms to prickle.
“Nick…” She placed a hand on his arm.
“Don’t touch me.” His tone was dark and raw. “Unless you’re prepared to reap the consequences.”
Excitement licked at her, taking Candace by surprise. She’d never been reckless. The spreading desire warned her that was about to change. She forced herself not to be distracted. To focus. She wanted to know what kind of man Nick Valentine was.
“So tell me, make me understand.”
The look he gave her was hostile. “Okay, you want to hear the story of what you consider great love? I’ll tell you.”