The Morning After Read online

  “Dylan, it’s Ginger Parker. Did I catch you at a good time?”

  “Sure, Ginger, what can I do for you?”

  “Ms. McClellan would like to see the house again. She wants to show it to her sisters.”

  His stomach tightened. So Nikki had sisters. He fisted his hand around a pen and stabbed the point into a legal pad. A morass of emotions gripped him: relief that she’d scheduled through the real-estate agent, keeping him out of her family loop and a loss over what to do with this bit of personal information. It didn’t fit into the tidy definition he’d scribed for her in his life.

  “Dylan?”

  “Yes, that’s fine. When?”

  “Would early afternoon, around twelve-thirty today, work?”

  “Sure. The lockbox is still on,” Dylan said.

  “Very good. I’ll let her know.”

  “Please be sure not to let the cat out.”

  “Of course. Have a good day and please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything.”

  “Right. Thanks, Ginger.” He hung up and stared again out the window.

  She had sisters. And what of her other family—aunts, uncles…parents?

  “No.” He shook his head to banish the questions.

  He didn’t want to know about her. He had no right, not when he couldn’t reciprocate. She was better off away from his family—from any of the personal dealings of his life. He’d let Kathy in and what had it gotten her?

  Dead. It had killed her. He’d be damned if he would let that happen again. And all he had left to show for it was that big empty house. Good riddance. Nikki and her sisters were welcome to it.

  “OH MY GOD.” TESS STOPPED in the bright entryway, her gaze sweeping the stained glass above the door. The rain had stopped and sunlight poured through the jewel-colored panes. “This isn’t a house. It’s more like an estate.”

  “It isn’t that big.” Nikki shook her head and stooped to pet Sebastian, who ran lazy eights around her legs.

  At least one of her sisters seemed adequately impressed. She couldn’t shake the disappointment that Erin had opted not to come. Her youngest sibling seemed more and more inclined to keep to herself. Maybe telling her about the whole sexual-healing theory had been a mistake.

  “Hey, where’s my room?” As always, Tess cut to the chase.

  Without waiting for Nikki or Ginger, she raced up the curved stairway toward the second floor. “Do I have my own bathroom? Is there a view of the gardens?”

  As Nikki followed Ginger up the stairs, she had to smile at Tess’s childlike exuberance. “All the rooms overlook the gardens.”

  They caught up with Tess in the master bedroom. Nikki sobered immediately. She’d forgotten about this room. She and Dylan spent all of their time in the downstairs bedroom. She hadn’t been in here since her initial tour of the house.

  Heavy curtains covered the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting deep shadows throughout the room. Framed pictures of Dylan and the beautiful blonde dotted one nightstand and the dresser, where a gold-backed brush and mirror resided beside an ornate jewelry box.

  Her jewelry box. A deep melancholy swamped Nikki as she stood staring at the image of a mermaid inlaid in colorful stones along the box’s lid. Had he also commissioned this piece for the mysterious woman?

  “Ugh, you can have this room.” Tess wrinkled her nose as Ginger pulled open the drapes.

  Before either Ginger or Nikki could comment, Tess raced out of the room to explore the rest of the floor. Her cry of delight greeted them as they entered the hall.

  She poked her head out of a door a few feet away and waved them on. “This is the one. I claim it. Old Erin, sourpuss, can take the leftovers. Look at how the light plays over the walls.”

  The light did seem to shimmer along the walls and ceiling in a way Nikki hadn’t noticed in the other rooms.

  “They used some kind of finish like a pickling,” Ginger said. “I’ve seen it in furniture but never on a wall. It’s very nice. I hadn’t noticed it before. It must be the way the light is slanting through the window.”

  Nikki smiled and grinned at Ginger as Tess went on to plan where each piece of her furniture would fit. “And look at the closet! I think it might actually fit all my shoes,” she said, clapping her hands in delight.

  For just a moment Nikki let herself get caught up in Tess’s enthusiasm. Thank God Tess wasn’t getting Maggie’s wanderlust. Buying the house had been the right decision for Nikki and her sisters. They’d be happy here. And Erin would come around. As much as Tess teased her, the two had always gotten along. Tess would talk to her, to get her excited about the move.

  “You know, Peter Houston’s brother is a mover. Just bought a huge van. I’ll see what their schedule’s like. When are we moving?” Tess turned to her, eyebrows raised in expectation.

  “In about four weeks. We can schedule them, but nothing’s final until we close.” Nikki grinned. With Tess’s long line of exes at their disposal, they never lacked for any service they might require.

  “Oh, you’ll close all right. Mr. Cain is most anxious to tie this up,” Ginger said.

  “Is he?” For some inexplicable reason Nikki’s stomach tightened.

  “Yes, says he’s ready to move on with his life. I’ve never seen a man more determined.” Ginger cocked her head thoughtfully. “I’ve a feeling he will see this through come hell or high water.”

  Come hell or high water. A chill passed through Nikki when they again neared the master bedroom. What haunted past drove Dylan? What made him so determined to move away? Surely his departure from this house would signal his departure from her life.

  If he was still around by then.

  Maybe the question was, would she be able to exorcise the ghosts once she and her sisters had moved in and Dylan had left to conquer the world?

  “SO YOU BROUGHT YOUR SISTERS to see the house.” Dylan leaned against the massive headboard, light from the bedside table falling across his chest and shoulders.

  “One of them.” Nikki shrugged, trying not to make too much of the fact that this was the first time they’d discussed anything remotely personal. “She liked it a lot.”

  He nodded and she settled beside him on his bed, her excitement at being with him barely contained. “I wasn’t sure you’d call me again.”

  “To be honest, I tried really hard not to.” He slid his hand up her thigh.

  “Really?”

  His eyes fixed on hers and the need, the desire, emanating from him was so real, it took her breath away. Her mood lightened. He may fight it, but he wanted her.

  His voice was low, his gaze troubled, when he continued. “I shouldn’t need you like this.”

  “It’s okay.” She brushed her lips over his. “I need you, too.”

  He crushed her to him then, taking her mouth with that hunger that made her knees weak, rolling with her so his body covered hers, pressing her into the softness of the bed. His tongue dueled with hers while his hands explored her through her clothes. He stroked her hips, her thighs and her belly.

  He broke the kiss to nuzzle her neck, his warm breath sending ripples of pleasure through her as he freed the buttons of her shirt. He kissed a path along her collarbone.

  “Touch me, Nikki.”

  She slipped her hands under his shirt, caressing the broad planes of his chest, the firm muscle and his taut nipples. He broke away to whip the shirt over his head, then covered her again. It seemed he touched her everywhere at once. She shivered as he swept off her shirt and bra in one quick motion.

  “Warm me,” she whispered.

  He blew on her breast, then took her in his mouth, teasing her nipple until her heart quickened and heat spread through her veins. She stroked his back, his shoulders, then delved her fingers into his thick hair as he suckled first one breast, then the next.

  “Oh, Dylan…” She moaned softly and lost herself in the strong pull of his mouth.

  Then his hands were at her waistband. He str
ipped the rest of her clothes from her and she lay naked before him. The light in his eyes, the appreciation, sent a thrill of satisfaction running through her. A sense of power rose in her. Was this how she’d made the others feel?

  But he kissed her again, filling her thoughts, her senses. She breathed deeply of his scent—so clean and strong and uniquely Dylan. She pulled it into her lungs and committed to memory the feel of him, the light playing off his smooth skin and his soft growl of arousal as she pushed his pants over his hips.

  She helped him out of his clothes, then she touched him. His skin was smooth, sensitized to her touch so it seemed by the ripples of excitement that flowed from him. She caressed his arms, his chest and the flat plane of his stomach. He groaned and rolled to his side as she stroked her hand up his thigh to his erection. He was thick and hard and so hot. Her own sex pulsed with the need to take him inside her.

  His fingers found her wet and ready. She circled him with her hand and matched her stroke to his as he readied her for their loving. Shivers of arousal shimmered over her. “Dylan, I can’t wait.”

  He nodded, then kissed her quickly. She tried to steady her breath as he rolled on a condom, then spooned her from behind, pulling her hips close and running his hand up her inner thigh to her clit. Her heart raced as his erection pressed into her.

  “Like this?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  His fingers strummed her as he thrust into her and she cried out with the pleasure. “Yes, Dylan…”

  He spoke her name with what seemed a note of reverence that touched her more deeply than any caress. She was swept away in his rhythm as he stroked in and out with both strength and gentleness at once, never neglecting her pleasure as his fingers worked their magic over her swollen flesh. The tension coiled around her in waves of intense pleasure. Electricity prickled along her spine, then seemed to bloom outward as the first ripples of orgasm hit her.

  She covered his hand with hers and squeezed as light exploded behind her eyes and she cried out. He thrust once, twice as the shock of release left her limp in his arms. He groaned and held her tight, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

  DYLAN STARTLED AWAKE. Disoriented, he pushed himself upright. Moonlight streamed through an opening in the curtain and pooled on the floor. His heart pounded and a feeling of doom pressed down on him. Something was terribly wrong. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the wretchedness gripping him.

  He’d been dreaming about Kathy. He reached through his consciousness for her, but the dream slipped away, dissipating like fog. Her essence lingered, as though she’d just walked through the room and would return at any moment. But he knew that she would not.

  Kathy was gone.

  The agony hit him like a knife to his gut, bending him over, knocking the breath from him. He crouched on the side of the bed, his arms on his knees, as despair swallowed him.

  How long he sat that way, fighting the demons, he couldn’t tell. But after a time, the stillness of the room crept over him. The stillness and the steady breathing of the woman who slept beside him…

  Nikki.

  Just the thought of her brought a respite from the blackness. She had come to mean so much to him in so short a time. For a moment he stared at her, almost surprised to find her there, though the memory of their earlier encounter flowed readily through his mind.

  Filling him with guilt.

  He’d been weak to call her again. How could he have betrayed Kathy’s memory this way? He hadn’t meant for his relationship with Nikki to become anything more than what they’d agreed on—an expression of the simple pleasure between a man and a woman. But somewhere along the way he’d lost sight of that intention. Somewhere along the way he’d started to care about her.

  Anger and guilt warred in him, driving him from the warmth of his own bed. He tried desperately to picture Kathy’s face, but the image eluded him. He paced in the darkness, feeling suddenly caged and wanting to lash out at…what, he didn’t know. But this was wrong.

  He shouldn’t be here with Nikki while Kathy lay cold in the ground. It wasn’t fair to Kathy’s memory. And it wasn’t fair to Nikki that he couldn’t give her more of himself. She may have insisted that she was content to keep their relationship confined to the bedroom, but at times her eyes told a different story. He’d seen the longing for more there, though he’d refused to recognize it.

  He plucked his jeans off the back of a chair and dressed. He needed air. He couldn’t be here anymore. He needed to clear his head so he could prepare for that hearing Monday morning. With one last glance at the soft form in the bed, he grabbed his keys, then left.

  A FAR-OFF KNOCKING DRAGGED Nikki from a place between sleep and consciousness—a place where whispers of truth both nagged and teased her. She opened her eyes to bright sunlight streaming through the curtains. Frowning, she pushed aside the thick comforter, then plopped back as memories of her night with Dylan flooded back to her. She’d returned to her office after showing Tess the house to find that he’d called.

  The knocking sounded again, followed almost immediately by the chime of the doorbell. She didn’t have to reach across the bed to feel his absence. It weighed down on her like an oppressing chill she might never shake.

  He was gone.

  For a moment she lay not breathing, an imaginary vise clamping her chest. Her throat burned and the room blurred. She’d known this moment would come, but damn it, did it have to hurt so much?

  The pounding came again, louder and more insistent.

  “Damn it.” She tossed the blankets aside, then dragged on the first thing she saw—Dylan’s bathrobe.

  As she stormed toward the door, she let her upset simmer into a good anger—not that she could quite blame Dylan for a response that was most likely beyond his control, but she could rail at whatever higher power that had “gifted” her with this healing curse.

  She yanked open the door. “Yes?”

  A beautiful blonde blinked at her. For just an instant Nikki thought it was the woman in the many photos around the house. But it couldn’t be. This woman lacked the warmth of the one in the pictures. In fact, a feeling of superiority emanated from the woman at the door, something that seemed foreign to the photographed blonde.

  The hair on the back of Nikki’s neck bristled. What business did this woman have with Dylan?

  The stranger’s gaze raked Nikki from head to toe, then back again, her eyes widening, then narrowing in speculation. “Who are you?”

  “I’m the one wearing the robe. Who the hell are you?” Her conscience prickled. This was no way to speak to Dylan’s visitor, but the blonde rubbed her the wrong way.

  The woman straightened, raising her chin and puffing out her chest like some offended hen. “I’m Evelyn Rogers. I’m a friend of Dylan’s. I’ve known his family for years.”

  All the fight drained out of Nikki. Her own insecurities flooded her, temporarily obscuring any sense she might have of Evelyn. Nikki pulled the robe tighter around her, feeling like an imposter. Or worse. “Right. Of course you have.”

  “So I take it Dylan isn’t here.”

  “It doesn’t appear so.”

  “I also work with him. I brought him this.” She pulled a file from her briefcase. “He said he’d want it to work on over the weekend.”

  Nikki took the file from her, staring at it a moment. So Evelyn knew Dylan personally as well as professionally. Her gloom deepened. She knew so little of him. She tamped down on the envy flooding her. “It’s for a case he’s working on—the one with the councilman—isn’t it?”

  “Those records are confidential.”

  Heat filled Nikki’s cheeks. “Of course. I’m sure it’s all legalese anyway.”

  “It is.” A stronger wave of superiority flowed off Evelyn. “It isn’t the councilman who interests you, is it?” Her gaze dropped to the file. “You’re dying to know more about Dylan.”

  “I’m slightly curious is all. He…doesn’t speak much of
his work.”

  “No, I’m sure the two of you have more interesting things to…discuss.”

  Nikki nodded, her lips pressed together. Even without her sixth sense, she couldn’t miss the woman’s jealous tone. Evelyn Rogers might call herself Dylan’s friend, but she wanted much more from him than his friendship. Nikki’s gaze fell to the magnificent diamond on Evelyn’s ring finger and she felt empathy for the man who’d put it there.

  She gripped the folder. “I’ll make sure he gets this.”

  “Thank you.” Evelyn started to turn away, then stopped. “This is absolutely none of my business, but you’re the first, you know.”

  Nikki’s empathic nature resurfaced. A strong curiosity replaced the woman’s earlier holier-than-thou vibe. “The first?”

  “The first woman he’s had here since the accident.”

  Nikki nodded. The accident. So there had been one. Never in a million years would she admit to this woman she knew nothing of Dylan’s life. “I thought that might be the case.”

  “Well…I’m happy to see he seems to be coming out of it.”

  She spoke the truth. On some level she did seem to care about Dylan. “So you’re close?”

  “Sure. I’ve known him for years. I’m like an adopted daughter to his parents.”

  “I see. You and he are like brother and sister then.”

  Evelyn stiffened. “I suppose you could look at it that way. Of course, I’m with Nick, and Dylan… Well, don’t be disappointed if he never quite gets over his first love.”

  “Of course. He loved her.” Bitterness tinged her words.

  Evelyn’s eyes took on a sympathetic light. “I’m guessing like no man has ever loved a woman before or since.”

  “Right. Certainly. I’m sure they were a lovely couple.”

  “Could I offer some advice?”

  Nikki cocked her head. No way was she trusting this woman. “Why not?”

  “He obviously saw something in you or you wouldn’t be here. Kathy was…special. You’re better off making a new place for yourself in his life, if you’re able. My guess is he’s closed off a big part of himself since her death. Leave it alone and be happy with whatever he has left to offer.” She shrugged. “Maybe in time that little bit will grow.”