Stowaway (33 page)

“Well loved, not spoiled, big difference.”

Keri chose a sleeveless turquoise blouse paired with a wildly patterned multi-colored skirt for dinner that evening. Shopping for a week with Nick’s family had involved more time and consideration than she’d given to her wardrobe in years. She’d aimed for casual elegance and hoped she’d succeeded.

The silky, tailored style of her blouse accented her breasts without being too tight or suggestive. It tucked into the waistband of the skirt, which, thankfully, had a slimming affect on her hips.

Unaccustomed to wearing high heels, she’d limited her shoe choices to low-heeled sandals. A curling iron had enhanced the femininity of her normal hair style. Her jewelry included a matching set of yellow gold necklace, earrings and bracelet. She’d just finished applying a light coat of lip gloss when Nick knocked at the bedroom door.

His eyes widened at the sight of her, and he gave her a low whistle of appreciation. It went a long way to settling the butterflies in her stomach. The thought of meeting his parents put her in a state of panic every time she allowed herself to dwell on it.

“At the risk of boring you with an old cliché, you look good enough to eat,” he said as he reached out a hand for one of hers.

Keri locked her fingers with his and felt the now-familiar zing of electricity ripple through her body. They’d spent an incredible few hours in bed this afternoon, making up for lost time and loving each other with new depth and intimacy. She blushed at the memories.

Nick laughed. “Don’t even let your mind wander back to bed, sweetheart, or we really will be in trouble with the family. I’m this close,” he rubbed noses with her, “to hauling you back to my room.”

She laughed softly, brushing her lips over his. “I never wanted to leave it in the first place,” she teased.

He grumbled, “It was your idea to shower separately. We could have saved time and water.” He slipped his arms around her waist and drew her close enough for her to feel his very male reaction to the conversation.

Heat suffused her body at the evidence of his renewed arousal. Her body still hummed from earlier loving. They couldn’t get enough of each other. She didn’t know if they’d ever get enough.

“Dinner, your parents,” she reminded when Nick started pressing kisses at the curve of her neck. The moist heat of his mouth sent a shiver of desire over her. The hours of loving made her putty in his hands.

“Dinner, parents,” he mimicked, nuzzling the tender spot beneath her right ear. “All I want is more of you—days, weeks, months of you.”

A clock chiming in the hallway drew their attention to the passing of time. He straightened and stepped aside so she could precede him out the door, but the look he gave her sizzled with hunger.

“Later, big boy, later,” she promised, flashing him a sultry smile. “Just use the time to think of all the ways you want me to pleasure you. Then I’ll see about bringing your fantasies to life.”

His moan was low and long and heartfelt as they headed down the flight of stairs to the main floor. He scolded her for putting that thought in his mind as he led her to a small sitting room where his parents waited. His X-rated promise of retribution had her blushing wildly.

Keri hoped their expressions didn’t advertise their thoughts as his mother and dad rose to meet them. They looked older than the picture she’d seen of them, but very cool and distinguished. His dad wore dark slacks and a cotton dress shirt. He looked like an older version of his son, but with silvery white hair. Nick’s mother looked a little heavier than in the photo but very chic and sophisticated in her black cocktail dress.

Keri reached out a hand to each as Nick introduced them by their first names, Paul and Bethany. She politely commented on the beauty of their home and thanked them for their hospitality.

“Nick’s friends are always welcome,” said Paul. “For too many years, he’s been remiss in bringing them.”

Nick had warned her that his parents would chastise him first, ply them both with wine and then do some serious prying into her life. Keri knew the parental routine all too well. Except for the wine, she’d lived it most of her life. Apparently, you never outgrew it.

Bethany returned to her seat on the sofa and crossed her legs. “Please sit down. Teresa said she’d call when dinner is ready. We have a few minutes to relax and chat.”

“How about some wine while we wait?” asked Paul, moving toward a beautiful, built-in bar of the light, airy room. The Mediterranean décor boasted a wall of windows with the sun dipping in toward the ocean. A cluster of furniture sat on a beautiful oriental rug. Nick guided Keri to a chair and then took a seat in a matching one, facing his parents.

After serving them each a glass of wine, Paul sat down beside Bethany. Nick shot Keri a warning glance. After the wine and pleasantries, the real interrogation would begin.

“Nick tells us you’re a trauma nurse, Keri.”

“Yes, in a small county hospital near my home.”

“In Tennessee,” said his dad.

“Thornsbury. It’s on the northeast corner. The closest city is Knoxville.”

“We’ve visited Nashville, but never Knoxville. A beautiful State, though, from what we’ve seen,” added Bethany. “Has your family always lived in Thornsbury?”

“Several generations of my dad’s family.”

Nick’s parents both nodded. Keri didn’t know if it was an acceptance of the generational commitment or just a verification of what they already knew. She didn’t doubt they’d had her investigated. It’s what her dad would do.

“Are you Catholic?” asked Paul.

Nick made a sound of displeasure. “Pop.”

“Protestant,” she said, trying to keep Nick from getting all defensive on her behalf. “I was raised in the Baptist church.”

“And your father is in law enforcement?” asked Paul, shooting an unapologetic glance at his son.

“Yes, as well as my brother and various other family members over the years.”

“You must have been very worried for them during the terrorist activity last month,” said Bethany. “Such a frightening event.”

“Yes, I was and it was,” she replied, wondering at their line of questioning. It didn’t seem like the usual “Who are you and what do you want from our son?” questions.

“Nicholas said he’d been visiting in the area just days before the trouble erupted.”

Keri nodded and took a sip of wine. She didn’t look at Nick, and she wasn’t about to comment. Now she knew exactly what details they wanted. Did they blame her and her family for their son’s involvement? Were they even aware of Nick’s role in averting the terrorist plot?

“Did you know any of the people involved?” asked Paul. “Were they from your hometown?”

“Several,” she said, deciding to reply without volunteering any information. In her teenage years, she’d advised boyfriends to do the same during her dad’s inevitable interrogations.

A peripheral glance at Nick had him crossing his arms over his chest, his expression hardening.

“Stop with the third degree,” he told his parents with respectful firmness. “I told you Keri and I played very minor roles in the terrorist incident. Right, Keri?”

She took another sip of wine and then stared into the crystal goblet, contemplating the sparkling liquid. The Lamantos wanted the truth. Nick wanted her to give them empty reassurances. She didn’t want to reply at all.

After a brief, pregnant silence, Nick prodded. “Back me up here, Keri. What’s the problem?”

“Well,” she drawled slowly. “I’m thinking there’s a fine line between backing you up and deliberately deceiving your parents. I’m trying to choose my words very carefully so I don’t cross any lines that can’t be uncrossed.”

Nick reached across the small table between them and touched her arm, nudging her to look directly at him. “When it comes to fine lines, you’re supposed to stay on my side of it,” he declared. “Of that, I’m sure.”

“But, Nico, I’m so interested in Keri’s take,” said Bethany. And to her, “Nick led us to believe he’d stayed out of harm’s way. Did he give us a whitewashed version, as usual?”

“I don’t whitewash,” he groused.

“Then why don’t you let the young woman explain in her own words.”

Keri finished off her wine and set the glass on the table. Her head spun a little from drinking the wine too quickly on an empty stomach. She gave Paul a smile.

“My words would have to include a GSW, APB, mercenaries with machine guns and vicious dogs. You probably know his home got blown to bits. He was shot at by a dirty cop and tackled a madman with a gun pointed at me. Then he helped round up all the terrorists so they couldn’t blow up innocent people. I’ll leave it to you to decide how minor his involvement.”

His parents stared at her, speechless for a second. Nick dismissed her words with a wave of his hand. “The FBI and Homeland team rounded up all the terrorists, I just gave them directions.”

His dad’s bushy white eyebrows rose in concern. “Just a traffic cop, Son?”

Keri smiled at Paul’s expression, so like the one his son used to chastise her on occasion.

“Oh, and I forgot the crazed nurse with a hypodermic he wrestled to save my life the second time.”

“Crazed nurse?” his mother said in a choked voice. Keri could tell she was finding it difficult to process the extent of Nick’s participation.

“Don’t mention that homicidal maniac,” Nick said with a snap in his voice. He stood and stared down at her. “I get furious just thinking about her and that needle. In another few seconds, she’d have killed you. Killed you with me standing over your bed! I have nightmares! Another few seconds! Too damned close for comfort.”

Keri looked into his eyes and saw a resurgence of turbulent emotion. The memories of that night surfaced rapidly, engulfing her. She knew he felt the same pain, fear and uncertainty. Despite therapy, they’d suffered more emotional trauma than most couples experienced in a lifetime.

The parental inquisition forgotten, she rose and took his hand as a wave of remembered terror swept through her. If not for him, she would be dead. He’d healed her and saved her in so many ways. She gave him a smile and lifted his hand to her lips.

“My hero,” she mouthed.

He shook his head, denying the credit.

“You’re mine,” he replied softly, dropping a hand to her waist and pulling her closer. They’d gone through a lot together and become stronger in the process. The love and respect they shared had a rock-solid foundation.

Keri didn’t know if it was the wine or Nick, but her head and heart felt lighter. He stared at her lips for a long minute. They didn’t kiss but she still felt the impact of his caress. He only had to look at her with his beautiful eyes and she knew what he wanted.

After another long minute, his mother interrupted them with a hoarse question. “GSW stands for gunshot wound in medical terminology, doesn’t it?”

Nick and Keri stepped apart. She glanced guiltily toward his parents, embarrassed to have ignored their presence.

“Just a flesh wound,” Nick told her in a soothing tone.

“Twelve stitches,” added Keri.

Nick frowned at her. “You know, there is such a thing as too much information.”

“Sorry,” she said, sounding anything but apologetic. “Should I apologize for being naturally honest? I’m not used to undercover secrecy and deception.”

His parents sudden burst of laughter dispersed the growing tension in the room.

Bethany rose from her seat and stepped close enough to hug Keri. She said, “A very warm welcome to our home, my dear. Anyone who can hold their own with our difficult, argumentative son, will always be welcome here.”

“The hell,” Nick protested.

“I’d like a little more information about the gunshot wound,” said his dad. “Nick’s never been very forthcoming with details. His mother and I had to pry information out of him as a child. I don’t know how he got so secretive.”

“I’m fine. I had an awesome nurse.”

The intercom beeped, and Teresa announced dinner. Nick made his parents swear they wouldn’t drill Keri anymore. For that, she gave him her sweetest smile.

The following evening, Nick stole her breath when he came to her bedroom door dressed in a tuxedo. She’d never imagined herself with a man so incredibly gorgeous, who wore the formal attire as comfortably as jeans. A huge wave of insecurity hit her at a reminder of the differences in their upbringing and lifestyles. Already nervous about the anniversary party, she felt nausea swirling in her stomach.

“Hey, it’s not that bad,” he insisted. “I only wore it to please the folks. If you hate the monkey suit, I’ll get rid of it in a couple hours.”

“You think I hate it?”

“Your expression went pretty sour.”

She tried to fend off his probing with flattery. “It’s not the suit. You look too yummy for words.” Moving closer, she pressed her hands flat on his chest and leaned in for a kiss. He dropped one on her lips.

“The wealth again?” he guessed at her concern. “That’s one dragon I can’t slay for you,” he said, dropping a second, harder kiss on her mouth. “It is what it is. It’s part of my life, but it does not define me.”

Keri gave him a smile. She didn’t want to be defined by her family or finances, either. But understanding and accepting it in her heart were two different things.

“I’m glad,” she replied softly.

Nick slipped his arms around her waist and drew her close. All the party preparations and the arrival of family had kept them too busy for alone time. Her body instantly responded to his touch.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he told her as their gazes locked. “You should wear red more often. It suits your coloring and your personality.”

“That so?”

“Red-hot,” he teased, running his hands up and down her back. “And I like the feel of it.”

The gown she’d chosen for the party had a draped bodice and figure-hugging fit with a calf-length, handkerchief hem. The softness came from polyester, not silk or satin.

“Edie labeled it my slinky red number.”

“Edie’s right on. I’d like to take it right off.” He dropped a kiss at the top of her chest, where the fabric dipped to show a hint of cleavage.