Seduction by the Book Read online

  So Nick was determined to keep his distance from Annie. He had even come to the conclusion that after the hurricane, he would be forced to let her go. Before it was too late.

  When the dessert was perfectly browned, Annie poured the coffee and sat down at the table with him. Her eyes blazed as she lifted the fork and drew hot sugar and cold custard into her mouth.

  “This is so decadent. My mother would call this combination of tastes a sin.”

  Only one of the many ways of putting yourself in hell, Nick thought. He had to get her talking. Sitting close and watching her lick the sugar off her lips was slowly but very surely sending him straight to the devil.

  “Tell me about your mother,” he said as he pushed his half-eaten dessert aside. “Tell me about your whole family.”

  She looked up at him with wide eyes. “Really? There’s a gazillion of them. It might take some time.”

  “A gazillion?” he asked with a chuckle. “How many is that exactly?”

  “Well, I’ve told you that I have three brothers and three sisters…all older. My mother is one of ten children, and my father is the youngest of thirteen. And I have nine nieces and nephews and sixty cousins—so far.”

  “I guess that does qualify as a gazillion. I was an only child. I have a couple of cousins that live in the U.S., but I can’t really imagine having as much family as you. Do you all live near each other in Boston?”

  “Mostly,” she said as she pushed her empty plate aside and took a sip of coffee. “Two of my cousins joined the army and went off for a while. But when their hitches were up, they came right back home to settle down.

  “I do have one daring uncle who took his family back to the homeland to live,” she continued. “Claimed he could only breathe the air if he was in Ireland.”

  Nick caught the sour facial expression. “Interesting. Ever give much thought to moving to Ireland yourself?”

  “Me? No. It would be too much like home—everyone knows everyone else’s business and has to put their two cents worth into it.”

  “Your family are gossips?”

  “It’s more like they all just read each other’s minds…and then don’t like what they see and insist on correcting the other person’s shortcomings. My mother is the worst of the lot.” She said the last with a twinkle in her eyes.

  “My mother tends to be a busybody, too.”

  “Your mother is a saint! You have no idea what a professional ‘stick-her-nose-in’ can be like.”

  He laughed, maybe harder than he had in years. Maybe ever. Annie was a true gem. A tempting emerald set in a ruby cluster, and he was beginning to covet her more than he should—much more than he could stand at the moment.

  “Tell me about what it was like to grow up with so many brothers and sisters,” he said quickly when his thoughts strayed off the topic again.

  She shrugged and sighed. “There’s good things and bad about it.”

  “Tell me something good.”

  “You are never lonely.”

  “Well, that sounds nice. Now tell me something bad.”

  “You are never lonely,” she said with a wicked grin.

  Nick smiled but Annie could see shadows behind his eyes. She knew he was lonely. He’d locked himself up here on his island and had spent so many hours alone since his wife had died that it was a small wonder he still knew how to speak to other human beings at all.

  He did speak to her, though. He spoke straight to her heart—with words or without. She could feel his pain in her chest right now.

  But she knew she wouldn’t be the one to break the spell on him. What he needed was some sophisticated blond princess, not a scraggly redheaded Irish kid from the poor side of town.

  “Why do you spend all your time alone, Nick?” she asked brazenly, trying to break his bad mood. “You’re like a prince who’s been put under a spell. It seems you should have friends…and girlfriends. I can’t understand why you don’t.”

  “My friend…the one woman who was my only girlfriend and my wife…died,” he said softly. “It would dishonor her memory if I…” He stopped and looked guilt-stricken.

  “You don’t have to tell me, Nick. I really don’t need to understand. It’s your life.” She watched the deep blue in his eyes turn stormy. “But I’m a good listener in case you need one.”

  He hung his head and silently stared down into his coffee cup.

  “My grandmother is a very great lady,” Annie hurriedly told him with a small laugh. “And really old. She always says that it’s good to talk about people who have gone on to heaven before us. Talking about them keeps their memories fresh and alive. Telling stories about lost loved ones is a way to see them clearly in your mind and to bring them closer to your heart again.”

  Nick gave her a small shake of his head but didn’t look up or make a sound.

  “Of course, Gran doesn’t just tell stories about family and friends,” Annie added. “Once she starts the stories, she goes on to tell the ones she learned in her childhood in Ireland. Those are wonderful stories about mysticism and magic—elves and sorcerers. I could…”

  “I met a woman with magic,” Nick interrupted. “It was in New Orleans six months ago right before I hired you.”

  Annie silently gave a sigh of relief. He was actually talking again. Thank heaven.

  “She was an old gypsy and she gave me a book,” he added with a scowl.

  “A book?”

  Nick nodded once and his eyes became glazed. “It was the oddest thing. She gave me this obviously expensive and antique book and said it was my destiny. But then she disappeared before she told me why.”

  “What kind of a book?”

  “The cover says it’s the original Grimm’s stories.”

  “The fairy tales?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “But you haven’t opened it?”

  “No. I didn’t think that fairy tales were my kind of reading material.” He’d said that softly, almost wistfully, and it made Annie more than a little curious.

  Interesting—and completely confusing. “So how do you know this old gypsy woman had magic?”

  “I…I’m not sure. I just felt it. I think the book is magic, too.”

  “But you haven’t read it yet?”

  “You may read it if you want. I’ll let you see it sometime.”

  He was somehow nervous about the magic, she thought with a sudden insight. But considering her background, she wasn’t afraid of gypsies or magic. Just curious.

  Nick had actually told her about something important to him, though. Annie thought that might be some kind of breakthrough, so she tried a friendly push to keep him talking.

  “I’d rather hear your story than read one,” she told him. “Tell me about Christina. Talk about how you two met.” She’d put her hand on his forearm to let him feel how much she cared, but the electric shock she felt when she’d touched his skin made her draw the hand back in a hurry.

  Annie got up and began to casually clear their dessert dishes with feigned indifference. She knew she was probably being pushy with a man who was her boss, and she didn’t want this to seem like an interrogation. But he needed to talk.

  And she needed to get over whatever these odd feelings were toward him. Even though he was sometimes infuriating, he was a nice man and obviously hurting. And she just wanted to help—not jump him.

  “Um…well, Christina’s father and my father were old friends—more business partners than friends, I guess you would say. My father does not cultivate friends that serve no purpose.” He’d said that with a rather strangled sound in his voice, but Annie had her back to him and couldn’t see his expression.

  She let him talk while she busied herself at the sink.

  “Anyway, Christina and I knew each other all of our lives,” he said quietly. “When I was old enough to leave Europe for the United States to attend university preparatory school, Father informed me that our families would be well served if the two of us were
joined.”

  He took a deep breath, and it was all Annie could do not to turn around to see his face. “I understood his point completely and recognized my obligation,” he began again. “And spoke to Christina about our future so that we would have an understanding before I left Alsaca.”

  That did it. Annie spun around. “You became engaged as teenagers? Just like that?”

  He looked up at her with slight confusion in his eyes. “Yes, of course. I know that isn’t the way it’s done in the United States, but in Europe it’s quite common for two prominent families to join like that.”

  “But what about love?”

  “Christina and I had a close relationship. We had always been friends. It was just natural.”

  Natural, maybe, Annie thought. But definitely not romantic. She sighed softly. What about the magic? But she managed to kept her mouth shut.

  Nick got up and moved to the sink to stand beside her. He picked up a towel. “If you’ve changed your mind about washing the dishes now, may I help?”

  Annie looked down at the sink and realized she’d been washing and stacking the dishes while she listened to him talk. “I guess so. If you really want to.”

  “Yes. The time goes by faster if you stay busy.”

  How right he was. Annie had learned that lesson early in a home where too much time on your hands only brought more teasing from older siblings.

  “So how long were you two married?” she asked as she handed him a dish.

  “We celebrated our fourth wedding anniversary right before…”

  Oops. “Four years?” she broke in hurriedly. “Boy, that’s so short a time. But you didn’t have any kids?”

  “No.” The answer came slowly, almost as if it pained him just to admit it.

  Annie figured she’d managed to make one more mistake with her big, fat mouth. But never let it be said that she knew when to just shut up.

  “I’ll bet you two were so busy with your lives and being newlyweds that you didn’t want children to intrude on your happiness. Kids can be a real pain.”

  “On the contrary, Christina…we…wanted very badly to have a child. The doctors told us it would be impossible for either one of us to have a natural child of our own.”

  He finished drying a plate and carefully put it aside. “And before you ask, Annie” he added wryly. “I suggested that we adopt. But Christina could never…I think the American saying is ‘come to grips with the idea.’”

  “I’m sorry. That must’ve been difficult.”

  “Christina… Well, she was devastated. But it spurred her into planning for the creation of this marine mammal research center. It was a project that had been very dear to her for many years.”

  “Your family has owned this island for a long time?”

  “Generations. But my grandfather deeded the village over to the citizens about fifty years ago. Most of the islander families have worked for my family through the years and Grandfather wanted to repay them for their loyalty.”

  It must be nice to be rich enough to give away a whole town. Annie’s family couldn’t afford to give away so much as a seashell.

  “You finished the research facility when your wife drowned, didn’t you? I mean, it might’ve been her idea but you were the one that did the work to get it opened.”

  “I wanted—” He stopped drying dishes and put the towel down. “I wanted to find a way to give her what she had desired. I could not give her the child of her dreams, but I could see to it that her dream of doing this research went on in her honor.”

  His hurt and guilt about not being able to have a child shone quite clearly in his eyes. Poor guy.

  “And you were physically injured yourself at the time. You must’ve loved her very much.” Annie could feel a single tear escaping from her eye, and tried to keep any more from embarrassing her by sniffing and lowering her chin.

  Instead of an answer, Nick turned to Annie and lifted her chin so she was forced to look up into his eyes. He tenderly wiped away the lone tear, then pushed a wayward curl back behind her ear.

  “I think perhaps it would be best if I retire to my office now. Thank you for the lovely meal. I don’t believe the hurricane should cause you too many problems.”

  “Oh, I’ll be just fine,” she said quickly. His touch had driven a jolt straight to her toes and she needed to step back from him and think about what had happened.

  “Yes, I’m sure I will be fine, as well.” He dropped his hand to his side and moved quickly toward the kitchen door. “Good night, Annie.”

  “Don’t forget to let me know if you need anything,” she called after him.

  But he was gone. And she was already beginning to feel cold in his absence—as if stabbing fingers of lonely icicles were reaching right down into her gut and turning her inside out.

  Three

  Nick picked up the decanter and poured himself a snifter of brandy. His office, with its rich masculine colors, black slate tiles and warm suede sofa and chairs, normally gave him solace. But not tonight.

  His thoughts kept turning to Annie—to how she would handle the hurricane alone back in her rooms. And damned if he also couldn’t help but wonder what she might be wearing as she retired for the night.

  Did she wear one of those frilly, see-through contraptions that some women liked to wear to bed? If so, he knew it would be silky soft but full of wild, exotic tones, just like Annie herself. Her nightwear would never be simple white or black, he was positive.

  For Annie, the hue would have to be a deep, forest green to match her eyes—or perhaps a vibrant turquoise like the waters here in the Caribbean. He could even imagine her in a blast of lipstick-red or a cool Mediterranean-coral that would complement her coloring.

  Shaking his head, he put the glass to his lips and let the warm, liquid fire ease down his throat. He shouldn’t be doing this, having indecent thoughts about a woman who was his employee. It wasn’t particularly honorable nor faithful to the memory of his wife.

  But what if Annie wore a T-shirt to bed? Or perhaps she wore nothing at all.

  The stab of heat that image brought cut him clear down to his gut. He slouched on the office’s wide, comfortable sofa and glanced over to the framed photograph of Christina that sat on the end table beside him.

  His wife’s cool, blond image stared back. He’d always loved the way Christina’s sophisticated hairstyles had matched her polished method of dressing. She’d seemed to him to be the perfect fragile, silver angel. But he’d never felt the sharp pang of desire for Christina that the mere thought of Annie’s clothes could bring to him.

  Nor had he ever felt any emotion that might qualify as love for her. No matter how badly he’d wanted to feel it at the time.

  He closed his eyes and waited for the familiar melancholy to settle over him. Thirty years old, and he had only had sex with one woman in his entire lifetime. Some men would think that was an old-fashioned ideal, but he had never wanted there to be anyone else but his wife. And now that he knew he was incapable of having children, it was the only honorable thing to do.

  It irritated him that tonight, when he should be remembering ethereal Christina’s flawless face and the consuming way she had loved the sea, all he could picture in his mind was earthy Annie and the sound of her laughter as it wafted through the air and settled low in his body.

  Annie was pure temptation, tempting him to leave behind his safe gray world. Her eyes were hypnotic, her voice the siren sound of sensual desire.

  Banishing all thoughts of her, Nick stood and poured himself another brandy. Then he turned and lifted his glass toward his wife’s photograph.

  “Here’s to you, darling,” he toasted. “I’ve kept all my promises. Your marine mammal center is fully functional and I will make sure only the best research is ever done there.”

  He took a sip and let the guilt run down his throat. “And I’m sorry I couldn’t be everything you needed while you were alive. I couldn’t give you the child you so d
esired and I pushed you to be what I expected you to be.”

  He’d left out a big part of Christina’s story when he’d told it to Annie. Deliberately, he’d neglected to tell her about the pain, the anger and the cold doubts about Christina’s death.

  Waiting for the icy ache of dislocation that usually came over him when he thought about his lost wife’s missed opportunities, he noticed instead that he just felt numb. Unlike last year’s ritual of goodbye, this year the pain of the loss had softened around the edges. It had become indistinct and blurry.

  He needed that sharp pain to return. To remind him of the emptiness—and of his promises.

  Downing the second glass of brandy, Nick poured himself another. It was almost the time for his agreed-upon call to the research center to check on their progress with the storm.

  The idea that the dolphins might be helpless if they happened to escape the lagoon where they were raised gave him cold chills. But once again there was nothing he could do to keep the sea from wreaking whatever havoc it chose to inflict. At this point, he was much more helpless in the ocean than the dolphins.

  As he headed for his desk phone, Nick caught sight of the gypsy’s book. He reached out to touch it, but withdrew his hand when the book felt warm to his touch. Not tonight.

  Nick wasn’t quite ready to face children’s fairy tales tonight. Now that he knew he would never be a father, any reminder of what he would be missing seemed too cruel.

  The gypsy said the book would bring him to his heart’s desire. Not likely. Rather, tales of love and happily ever after would only bring him more pain.

  Turning away from the book, he decided that after the call was made, he and the decanter of Napoleon were going to spend some quality time on the sofa, riding out the storm. And trying to control any wayward thoughts of Annie.

  She was just another reminder of all the things he could never have.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Passionata Chagari warned as she stared down into her crystal ball.

  This brash young Scoville was determined to ignore the magic. But the old gypsy woman would not let him get away with that.

  She was not supposed to stir into the future, but to Hades with regulations. Thinking of ways to move him on toward his destiny, Passionata concentrated on the ultimate goal.