Charming You (Thirsty Hearts Book 1) (7 page)

"I suppose," Vivienne's mother replied without expression. "Think it over, dear. You want your wedding day to be perfect."

"Of course, I do, Mother."

Nick put the chances that the wedding would be on the back lawn of the Morans' mansion at less than zero. He still didn't know if they'd get married at all. He forced himself to swallow some of the pungent soup.

Vivienne smiled at Jonah's date. "What have you been up to Emily? Must be nice to be out of school."

The conversation flowed on in a bizarre river of polite, empty words, no more meaningful than white noise. Nick swept his spoon across the surface of his soup and brought it to his mouth. He choked it down before abandoning his spoon.

Surely, Miranda would appear soon with the next course. He cast an eye to the empty doorway. Rebellion swelled inside him, forcing him to wonder how many of these dinners he intended to endure for the rest of his life.

Life with Vivienne was what he wanted. But this family? He wasn't sure.

Chapter Nine

N
ow that Micky
had met Nick, she realized how often their paths could have crossed before. One day, she saw him from a distance at the coffee shop near their building. The next, she saw him walking across the lobby with colleagues on her way back from lunch.

Today, Micky stepped into the elevator to head home, and there he was, descending from the floors above. As soon as the doors opened, her gaze was drawn to his. The clarity of his green eyes shocked her system, pushing her heart rate up as if she were taking the stairs. She stepped into the elevator and turned to press the button for the first floor. Her destination was already alight.

She hadn't heard anything from him in the several days since their non-date and, after how she left things, hadn't expected a call. Micky had decided it was for the best even if fate kept throwing him in her face.

"Micky, how are you?"

"Good. And you?"

"Doing well."

His presence filled the elevator, making it hard for her to breathe. She could feel his emerald eyes boring into her.

"Heading off to another hot date?" he asked.

"No," Micky replied, clearing her throat. "Not tonight."

Nick glanced down at the laptop bag stuffed with folders and her computer.

"Taking work home? Tsk, tsk," he chastised, wagging his finger. "Didn't you promise your friend Andrew you wouldn't work so hard?"

"No. I think you promised to make sure that I had a good time."

"And did I deliver?"

Heat infused Micky's solar plexus. His flirtation caught her off guard. He could have called days ago if he were interested in her. She would have told him no, but that didn't matter.

"I had a good time the other night. But obviously, you and I aren't going to date or whatever," she stammered with exasperation. "Why don't we cut it out with the flirtatious games? It's not going anywhere."

Nick raised his brows. "Where'd that come from? I know I didn't call you, but, honestly, at the end of our dinner, I didn't get the feeling like you wanted me to. I figured we could be friends. Now you're mad."

Micky didn't want to admit that he was right.

"I'm sorry. I've had a long day," she said, hoping that alone would account for her craziness. It wasn't like her to go from zero to bitch in two seconds.

"Something on your mind?" he asked.

"Just work," she answered. That wasn't entirely untrue.

She'd wandered into the break room and heard a couple of her coworkers speculating about a rumored merger with a competitor. She filled her cup with her company's substandard coffee and scooted out as quickly as possible. The transition from cog to manager in the know stressed her out. Still, she knew that wasn't the reason for her short temper. Something about being in proximity with Nick rearranged her molecules. He had magnetism, and he tossed it around so easily. He irked her as much as he compelled her.

"Well, if you are up for it, how about a friendly drink?" he asked.

Nick looked like he'd surprised even himself with the proffered invitation.

"I don't know."

"Just friends. I'll even let you pay again," he proposed.

Micky couldn't suppress her smile. "We'll go Dutch."

N
ick had intended
to go straight home. Then, he saw Micky, and figured he should take another shot at gathering information.

Plus, she looked damned sexy when her hazel eyes flashed with anger, turning amber. That look made his stomach clench. He wanted to fix whatever had gone wrong in her world and put that gorgeous smile back on her face. Nick assured himself that could be a friendly impulse and nothing else.

Not wanting to venture far, he suggested the hotel bar down the street from their office. Walking in, Nick pointed a booth in the corner, and the pair grabbed a seat. Nick motioned for the waiter.

"Slightly dirty martini, right?"

"Normally, yes, but I think I'll stick with a glass of wine. The house red is fine," Micky responded. Nick ordered her red wine and a Scotch for himself.

"What's tying you in knots?" he asked.

Micky rolled her eyes. "Just work stuff. It's hardly worth rehashing. We're walking a tightrope on the budget for our annual sales meeting in Paris. We have some big announcements and some complications. My friend and I are just marching forward. This time of year, before the conference, the office is buzzing, and then the rumor mill churns up."

"Rumors?" Heat crawled up Nick's neck.

"You know how offices are. The rumor mill is always in overdrive," she said and waved her hand in dismissal.

"Are people expecting big changes or something?"

"We've been growing and are focusing on gaining new clients in new industries. Everyone knows that's going to take some changes. A lot of this has been in the trade press. People don't like change."

"No, and you've mentioned that you've already gone through several acquisitions."

"Yes. It's stressful and boring." Micky's eyes wandered over his shoulder, distracted.

"When did you say you were leaving for Paris?" he asked, bringing her attention back.

"Our event is the first week of November, and then my friend and I are staying over for a few days after to sightsee. Have you been?"

"Yes. Quite a few times." Vivienne made frequent trips to visit some luxury home goods suppliers, but Vivienne was far from Nick's mind. Micky's eyes brightened, and she leaned in, excited.

"I'm completely jealous. I'd love to be able to travel more. I'm not going to have much time there. Our event is Monday to Wednesday. I fly home Sunday morning. I have no idea yet what all I'm going to do. Taryn has an activity list on a spreadsheet, but no agenda yet," she said, laughing.

"If I were you, I wouldn't put too much pressure on myself to see everything. It'll be impossible in three days. Each of the big museums can take an entire day on their own. The Louvre could take a week. Plus, it's the kind of city where you can do nothing, and it's something. Where do you have your event?"

"The Palais de Congrès. On the west side of the city."

"Near the Champs-Elysées."

"I think so."

"If you can get to some of the other neighborhoods, do it. You'll find fewer tourists and more local flavor."

"We're changing hotels after the conference, switching to the left bank. I'll be there with Taryn, my good friend from work, but her fiancé is flying over so they'll be doing a romance tour, I'm sure. I want to hit the Louvre and the Musée d'Orsay. Other than that, I'm sure they'll want some alone time, and I'll be exploring on my own."

"Depending on the weather, you can just sit at a café and watch the world go by for an entire afternoon and not feel like it was a waste," Nick explained.

He could imagine Micky walking down the streets of Paris. She had an exotic look about her with her dark wavy hair and light eyes fringed with long, fanning lashes. Judging from the excitement in her face over the thought of going to Paris, she'd be positively ecstatic the first time she saw the Eiffel Tower.

Nick wished he could see her taking in the city for the first time. He could show her all of his favorite spots, like the tiny out of the way bistro on the Left Bank that had the best duck confit and crispy potatoes, or the romanticism of the Ile de la Cité in the heart of the city. With Vivienne, trips to France were old hat. Micky was right. Paris was supposed to be a romantic adventure.

The thought pained him. That kick of jealousy he felt the other night flooded back, confusing him. He couldn't lose focus.

"I'll text you some of my favorite places. A lot of them are out of the way from the typical tourist areas."

"Thanks. When were you last there?"

On his last trip to Paris, Nick had proposed to Vivienne on New Year's Eve.

"The holidays," he said. Nick drained his scotch and let the weight of the glass drop from his fingers onto the table.

The thud of his glass hitting the table made Micky straighten in her seat.

U
h-oh
. Nick's demeanor shifted in front of her. She'd wandered into forbidden territory. Micky tilted her head and examined the handsome, in-control man sitting across from her.

His lips pressed together in dismay. Something about his past relationship had gotten away from him. She wondered what kind of woman it would take to make a man like Nick polish off an ounce of Scotch in less than nanosecond. She'd never had that power over a man. She should let it go, but she couldn't help herself.

"Christmas in Paris? Must be nice. Didn't your family mind your being away?" she asked and then waited. Nick shook his head almost imperceptibly.

"We left after Christmas and just spent the New Year there," he replied.

"We?" Micky inquired.

"My fiancée and I," he admitted.

Micky took a deep breath to settle the anger that popped up inside her. She dug her heels into the floor and pressed against the padded back of the booth.

"Not 'ex-fiancée?'"

Nick looked away from her and sighed.

"She broke things off. I tried talking to her, and she wouldn't even return my phone calls. That was months ago. Then, suddenly this week, she surfaces again. We're supposed to have dinner to sort things out. I don't know," he said and shrugged.

"Yet, you're here with me," Micky bit out, hoping she could keep her temper in check. These men and their prevarications got her hackles up.

"Having a drink." A smile tilted his full lips.

"Don't you think it's kind of shitty to be having drinks with one woman while you're still engaged to another?"

"You looked upset in the elevator, and I thought it would be nice to have a friendly drink. We're going Dutch, remember? I can have female friends. What have we done that's inappropriate? Nothing."

Confronted with Nick's matter-of-fact assessment of their meet-up, Micky had to admit that, for her, it wasn't nothing. And she doubted that the pull of attraction went one way. She contemplated grabbing her purse and stalking out of the bar.

"We've flirted," she admitted, which only served to amuse him further.

"Really? You seemed pretty pissed off the other night even though I'm not entirely sure why."

"That's funny because the thing that pissed me off then has turned out to be true. You casually talked about being into all manners of women. So many women, so little time, I guess. Now you tell me that your called-off engagement might not be called-off. It makes me wonder if that's all some elaborate tale to keep me thinking you're available when you're not," Micky snapped, the control she had over her ire dissipating.

"Believe me, I'm not one to date more than one woman at a time. Most guys may say they want lots of women in their life, but trust me, I don't need the drama."

"Women bring drama?"

"Not necessarily, but I've found that the level of crazy in a man's life rises exponentially with the number of women." He sighed and started to speak again, but Micky cut him off.

"I see," she said, looking around the bar for the waiter.

"No, wait. I just mean that juggling women is a bad idea and a habit that I broke myself of a long time ago."

"Have you? Because I don't care what you say. I've seen the way you look at me, and it is most definitely inappropriate if you're promised to someone else. Is it so hard to wrap up one relationship entirely before looking for your next conquest?"

The green in Nick's eyes deepened. He leaned over the table.

"You're right. I'm attracted to you. I'd love nothing more than to drag you upstairs to one of the rooms in this hotel and strip those uptight business clothes off of you so that I can finally know what color your nipples are. And what they taste like."

Micky dropped her gaze to the drink in front of her, unable to look Nick in the eye. The hairs on her neck rose and vibrated. His words scalded her.

As infuriated as she was, she couldn't deny the twist she felt in her belly as her insides turned liquid. The thought of his mouth on her breasts with his hands roaming over her naked flesh infused her with want. She squeezed her eyes shut, only opening them when she heard Nick continue after a heated pause.

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