Touching Darkness (5 page)

He shook his head. “I understand now. But I'll tell you this, Livvie: That rule about socializing isn't so much to preserve the integrity of the program. It's to keep you in line, to keep you from getting involved with the wrong kind of guy. And make no mistake, I am the wrong kind of guy for you.”

She tilted her head. “And what makes you think that?”

“Besides who your father is? Besides the rules and the fact that you follow them?”

She was curious. “Yeah. Besides all that.”

“When I finish what I'm doing here, I'm gone.”

“Well, not forever.”

That shadow filled his eyes again. “Yeah, forever.” He rubbed the back of his fingers against her cheek. “Thanks for the cake. That was special.” His voice lowered. “So was the kiss.” He headed out of the kitchen, and she called out, “Have a good birthday, Nicholas.”

She quickly cleaned any evidence of the cake. Thank God her father hadn't caught her.

She put her fingers to her mouth. She wanted more of that. Of him. No matter that he wasn't going to be around long. That he'd backed down out of respect for her obedience, well, that made him more appealing. If not for that, they'd still be in the kitchen kissing.

Obedient little Olivia, and look where it's gotten you: alone and in a job that doesn't fulfill you.
Nicholas had a point. How could fraternizing with the contractors compromise the program? She didn't know anything. In fact, Nicholas knew more than she did.

She felt pressure in her chest and reached for the pendant hidden beneath her shirt. Her fingers caressed the ridges of the Darkwell family crest, an eagle in profile. She had been required to wear this pendant every day since she was a young girl. Though her father was a man of logic, he'd told her it would protect her. She now took that to mean in a general way and not a superstitious way.

Well, it sure hadn't protected her from falling for Nicholas. She sighed, turning to leave the kitchen after one more inspection. She had fallen for him, hadn't she? Once again falling for a guy who didn't meet her father's standards. The last time…

She put her hand on her heart, feeling the ache even now.
What am I going to do this time?

N
icholas headed downstairs for lunch but paused at the sight of Olivia standing in front of one of the paintings of glowering men. He remained at the corner of the grand dining room, taking her in, remembering how sweet she was, how even more delicious her mouth was than the cake she'd made for him. Though he hadn't made a sound, she turned, and her dour expression transformed to a smile as it usually did when she saw him.

He stepped up beside her but looked at the portrait of a man decked out with all kinds of stars and ornamentation. In a near whisper, he said, “So, all these people are your family.”

She did a quick glance to make sure no one was around. “That's my grandfather.” She pointed to a portrait of another man, her face going pale, her mouth tightening. “And that is—was my uncle Leon. He died two and a half weeks ago of a heart attack.” Her face paled and her mouth tightened.

“I'm sorry. You must have been close to him.”

“No one in the family is close, not emotionally. Loyal, traditional, but not loving.” She looked at him in surprise. “I don't know why I even said that. It's sad, tragic, but I think his death was harder because he was only two years older than my father. I guess it made me think about…”
She shook her head, unable to even voice words about her father's death.

She pointed to a crest emblazoned in brass with an eagle at the center. “That's our family crest.” She twirled her finger:
big deal.
“This estate has been in the family for three generations. I never lived here, thank goodness, but we came here for special occasions. My grandfather recently moved into a smaller house closer to the city. This place was empty, and on the market, until Darkwell realized we could move the program here. Now he can do his work at Langley but spend as much time here as he can.”

She went on to describe some of the other men, majors, generals, senators, as though she'd memorized them from childhood. Heck, she probably had.

Stuck in a dark alcove was another portrait. He stopped, this one more intriguing than the rest. “Who's this guy? And what did he do to piss off the family?”

She laughed, though it came out nervous. “That's Uncle Gus, the middle brother. And you're right, he did piss off the family. When he was nineteen, he married a woman much older than he was. She'd been married when they began their affair, an affair that broke up her marriage. But worse than that was that she was a buyer for a clothing store, and her job took her out of town a lot. Gus was so in love with her, he quit military school and traveled with her. My grandfather bribed, threatened, but nothing would dissuade Gus.”

Her expression was solemn as she spoke. “They had a daughter a few years later and settled down. She was just a little older than I. We both went to a private school here in Potomac.” She glanced at him. “Very exclusive. They teach you how to be a snob on every level. Audrey wasn't a snob, though, and we were very close, kind of two against the world. We both loved the equestrian program, until I fell off and sprained an ankle. My father wouldn't let me participate after that.”

“That seems unfair. It was only one accident.”

She shrugged. “He wanted to protect me.” But she still didn't look pleased about it. “Gus and his family weren't invited to family gatherings…the shame of it all, you see. But he was so happy. You could see the glow in their faces when they were together. They were so in love.”

She let out a soft sigh. “And then he died, a lung aneurysm. Like you said earlier, it was over in an instant. And his wife, Carol, was destitute. They'd been living in a house in the family trust, so she had no claim to it. I can remember the day she came to see my grandfather, begging him to let her and Audrey stay; she was his granddaughter, for God's sake. But he didn't see her as family. My grandfather and his two sons ordered them to leave.”

The pain of the memory was etched in her face, and he saw something else, too: fear. “They left in tears. I told Audrey I'd sneak them into my bedroom. It sounds ridiculous now, but I wanted to help them. In the end, I couldn't do a thing.”

“Where are they now?” Nicholas's mind was already working.

“The last address I could find was in California. I wrote a letter but never got a response.”

“Do you want to find them?”

She looked at him. “In a way, yes. But it would open a can of worms with my family.”

He nodded to the portrait. “I'm surprised they didn't hang it in the bathroom.”

She didn't laugh this time.

“You're afraid of that happening to you, aren't you?” he asked.

“I don't have a portrait they could hang in the bathroom.”

“That's not what I meant. You're afraid to be ostracized. I don't think your loyalty is as much out of love as it is out of fear.”

“That's ridiculous.”

It all made sense now. Her mother had abandoned her.
Olivia probably thought if she disobeyed, her father might abandon her, too.

“That's his job as a father, you know,” he said in a low voice. “Raising and loving you wasn't doing you a favor.”

She turned from the portrait. “I don't want to talk about this anymore.”

“Do you want me to find Audrey and Carol? I can do that.”

She looked at him, her head tilted. “How?”

“Let's just say I'm good at finding people.”

“Is that your special skill?”

He gave her an impish smile. “We're not supposed to talk about our skills to the staff. You wouldn't want me to break the rules, would you?”

She seemed surprised by that revelation. “You don't care about the rules.”

“But you do. I'm good at finding things. Do you want me to put my skill to use for you?” It was that need rising in him again, to complete someone by finding something that was missing.

Her eyes filled with both hope and conflict. “Yes. No. I don't know, let me think about it.” Her expression changed to a slightly sheepish one. “I saw you this morning, throwing that ball into the maze, jumping off the balcony and finding it, climbing as agile as a monkey back up to your room.”

“I climbed a lot of trees when I was a kid. We lived on a hundred acres of woods. There wasn't a tree I couldn't climb.”

She was regarding him with curiosity now. “You found the ball,
and
you found your way out of that maze within seconds. No one does that. The smart ones eventually find their way out after, like, two hours. Tops. How can you do that? Is that your skill, too?”

He touched her chin and let his finger slide down the front of her throat until it reached the sweet hollow at the base of her neck. “That's just one of my skills, Livvie. But
if we're following the rules, the only one I can share with you is finding your cousin. Let me know if I can assist in that.”

She sucked in a breath at his touch and his implication, and her shoulders slackened when he lifted his finger away. “You're an evil man, Nicholas Braden.”

He gave her a devilish smile. “Indeed I am.” He started to walk away, a fine exit if he didn't say so himself, but she grabbed his arm to stop him.

After glancing around to make sure no one—her father—was around, she pulled him down a hall to a part of the mansion he'd never been in before. She led the way to a sunroom that was decked out in flowers, imprinted on the fabric of the sofas and chairs, and even on the wallpaper.

“My grandmother decorated this room,” she said. “Try not to gag.” She closed the door and walked right up to him. “I've decided to have an affair with you.
Affair,
is that the right word? Does that apply to assignations between people who are not married to each other?”

Affair…assignation…the mere words brought his body to life, especially when faced with a flushed Livvie standing so close their bodies nearly touched. “You've decided this…just now?”

“Yes. No. Sort of.”

“What about the rules?”

“They're still in place, I'm afraid, but it seems you're game to flout them, and so am I. Life is short, and I want to grab it and suck all the juice out of it.”

She might as well have put her mouth on him with those words, the way his body reacted. She wrapped her arms around his neck, snugged her body against his, and kissed him crazy. She was devilish, too, rocking her body ever so slightly, and she sure as hell couldn't have missed his erection. He took what she offered, plunging in, running his hands down her backside, the indent of her lower back, and sliding over the curve of her ass. Every bit as fantastic as he'd imagined.

She was hungry, no starved, it seemed. She moaned softly at his touch, pressing even closer.

She was too hungry, and he remembered her innocence, and the reason behind that innocence. As much as desire engulfed him, he could not, would not, hurt her. He pulled back, bracing her face, slowing the kisses and nearly losing it again at the sight of her eyes drenched in the same desire.

“Livvie, do you know what having an affair means? It means temporary. It means that at the end we both walk away, and no one's hurt. Can you do that?”

She nodded, leaning forward to kiss him again, and, he was sure, not really hearing his words.

“Livvie,” he said against her mouth, “wait. I want to make sure you know what we're doing here.”

She finally stepped back, hands on her hips. “Well, we would be kissing if you'd stop talking. I'm throwing caution to the winds, and now you're the one who's being careful.”

“I have rules of my own. I want to make sure you know that when my assignment is over in a short time, you will be perfectly okay that I walk out of here and never see you again.”

“Why never? We can call, write. Visit.”

That's what he was afraid of. “Never.”

She pushed out her lower lip in contrast to her words. “Okay, fine. Never. I'm talking about an affair, not marriage. And if you want to cut all ties, then we'll cut all ties.”

He tipped her chin up. “You're young. Too young.”

“Too young for what? I'm only three years younger than you.”

“Twenty is young, sweetheart. Have you ever been in love before?”

“Plenty of times.” She paused. “Okay, once, when I was sixteen.”

“Just once?”

“I haven't met anyone I wanted to feel that way about. Until you.”

He felt a punch in his chest. “Tell me about him.” It was a test. He wanted to know how she let go of someone she'd been in love with. Because he already knew if they took this further, it was going to go deeper than any of the shallow “affairs” he'd had. He saw it in her eyes, felt it in his gut. He was willing to endure the pain of the loss, but he wasn't willing to put her through it.

She shifted her gaze away. “I don't want to.”

“I need to know you can handle this. The last and only time you were in love was four years ago. That doesn't reassure me.”

“Fine. His name was Liam. He was the gardener's son, and one summer he helped out at our estate. He was sweet and devastatingly good-looking and tan and he kissed…well, almost as well as you do. He was my first kiss, the first boy I ever let touch me.”

He didn't like the thought of her being in love with anyone, and especially anyone touching her, a bad omen for him. “I'll bet your father loved that.”

“You'd bet right. He got wind of the relationship and told me to end it. No daughter of a Darkwell was going to date a gardener's son. I hate conflict, and I knew it was pointless to argue, so I acquiesced. But being a teenager, and feeling the first bite of rebellion, we merely took the relationship underground. Unfortunately, my father forced the truth out of me one stormy afternoon. Then he went down to the shed where Liam and his father were waiting out the storm.”

Her eyes glazed as she sank back to that distant day. “When he returned, he told me he'd fired the gardener. A man had lost his job because of me.” Her expression darkened. “But that wasn't the worst of it. Though my father told them to leave after the storm, the gardener packed his things, and they left right then. He lost control of the car and went off the road into the river. They both…drowned.” She looked at him, hurt and anger in her eyes. “There, are you happy?”

No, he wasn't happy at all. He pulled her against him, rubbing her back. “I'm sorry. But I had to know.”

She looked up at him. “Know what?”

“Whether you could handle taking this a step further and not be hurt when I leave. I don't think you can. And I can't risk hurting you even though I want to make love to you so bad my body aches with it.”

She stepped back, obviously hurt by his rejection. “You must think an awful lot of yourself to assume I won't get over you when you're gone.”

All this time he'd thought her placid, compliant. Her feistiness pulled at him. He put his hand against her cheek. “I know enough about you to know you could never love lightly. And maybe I'm afraid I won't get over you.”

She was beautiful, delicious, like one of those fancy desserts in the bakery case that he knew would crack to pieces after the first bite no matter how careful he was.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Why do you have to leave? At least tell me that. You make it sound as though you're leaving the planet when you finish your assignment. I know you're not married, or at least no wife showed up on the background check. Is my father sending you overseas? To some volatile place?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“I know you did salvage work before you came here, and that was dangerous. I read in your dossier that once you were a hundred feet below the surface looking for the remains of a shipwreck, and your air tank malfunctioned. You dive in caves for
fun.
” She shuddered at that. “You'll go back to doing that when you're done here?”