Full House

  Just what Billie needed to hear. "He didn't succeed."

  "That won't stop him from trying again." Deedee made a tsking sound. "Honey, if you're looking for a husband, you need to shop in another bakery. Nick is slippery. Women are always after him. And lately, somebody has been leaving him presents. I'm willing to bet my alimony checks Sheridan is sending them."

  Billie felt herself frown. "It doesn't make sense. She broke up with him."

  Deedee focused on Billie. "Maybe she realized what a stupid mistake she made.

  "It's weird. These presents just appear from nowhere. They're always gifts Nick likes. Who else would know him so well?"

  Billie had already resolved herself not to get involved in Nick's love life. If Sheridan wanted to send him gifts, that was fine. If they decided to get married, that was their business. She was prepared to be Nick's friend and nothing more.

  "Nick doesn't talk about them, of course. Usually they're left on the doorstep at night." Deedee stretched and gave an enormous yawn. "I suppose I should get dressed. Frankie is sending the car around." She held up a lock of red hair. "I need my hair done, and then I'm going to do some shopping, and then dinner with Frankie. What are you doing tonight, honey? You're not going to sit home and do something domestic, are you?"

  "Nope. Nick's giving me a riding lesson early this evening."

  "Eeyeuuw."

  * * * * *

  Billie kept one eye on the road leading to Nick's stable and one eye on the apple pie, which occupied the seat next to her. She'd intended the pie to be repayment for the steak and homemade ice cream, but now she worried that it might be categorized with the gifts Sheridan or other women left for him. It was a simple thank-you gift, one she planned to use to establish their new friendship. By doing so, Nick would feel no obligation toward her. He would not have to feel guilty about hurting her feelings when he announced the engagement was back on. And this would be her last riding lesson.

  She'd inadvertently stepped between a man and woman who still loved one another but had unresolved problems. It was up to her to make a graceful exit so they could work out those problems without interference.

  Billie had resigned herself to maintaining a healthy distance from Nicholas Kaharchek by the time she parked her van in the lot by the barn. She was a happy, well-adjusted mother of two, and the last thing she needed in her life were problems.

  She took a moment to enjoy the small breeze wafting across the green fields. There was a certain freedom in knowing she had made a decision that was healthy for her. At the same time she felt an acute sense of loss. Nick meant more to her than she'd originally thought. Sheesh, this nobility thing was tough, and she was already feeling the sting of it.

  The clip-clop of hooves made her turn. Nick approached, leading two horses, already saddled. Billie breathed a sigh of relief to find that Zeke was not among them. Even though it was her last lesson, she did not want to end up in the emergency room again.

  Nick came to a halt at the sight of her, fresh and lovely in the late afternoon sun. How could the woman give him an adrenaline rush one moment, and then soothe his weary soul the next? he wondered. He'd spent most of the day scouring the woods for Max. The kid had, once again, eluded him and his men, but only after going beneath the hood of Nick's Mercedes and literally dismantling integral parts in ways that only a seasoned mechanic could accomplish. It didn't matter that Max, to Nick's knowledge, had never looked beneath the hood of a car. The genius in him made it possible to do whatever necessary. There was no telling what the boy was up to now, and that's what had Nick worried, but somehow Billie managed to calm his frayed nerves.

  He smiled. "Hi."

  Billie's breath caught in the back of her throat. She'd never heard anyone instill so much sexuality in a single word. No wonder Sheridan dropped presents on his doorstep. A voice like that could make a woman go nutso. "Hi, yourself," she managed.

  Nick motioned to the sleek black horse to his right. "Billie, I'd like you to meet Ryan's Velvet. He's a seven-year-old Arabian gelding and perfectly named. His gait and his personality are as smooth as velvet."

  Billie touched her hand to Velvet's smooth muzzle. "He's beautiful."

  "He's the reason I went to Upperville yesterday. I bought him for you."

  She snapped her head around, facing him fully. "What?"

  Nick smiled at her reaction. "I promised you a lifetime of free riding lessons. And I promised you no more Zeke. So I thought it prudent to get you an appropriate horse."

  "Prudent" wouldn't have been her first word choice. "Extravagant," "insane," "outrageous" seemed closer to the truth. She was no judge of horseflesh, but it was obvious, even to her, that this was a megabucks horse. "Nick, I can't possibly—"

  "I was hoping for a simple thank-you," he interrupted.

  Billie looked at the exquisite four-footed animal standing patiently beside her and then looked at the exquisite two-footed animal standing close in front of her. "He must've cost a fortune." Her brow puckered. "Why on earth would you give me such a gift? You barely know me. This is something you would give a wife or a child, Nick." She met his gaze. "Or a lover." Like Sheridan, she added silently.

  Nick was caught off guard by her question. He gave women gifts all the time, especially those with whom he was intimate, but he couldn't admit as much to Billie. Gifts came easily to him because he could afford them, but instead of looking pleased with the horse as he'd hoped she would, Billie looked confused, and maybe a little hurt.

  She took a step back. "I can't accept this," she said softly. "This is too much." She thought of the simple pie sitting in her front seat that was meant to establish their friendship, set boundaries. She had spent a lot of time thinking about it, coming to terms with the fact that nothing would ever come of her relationship with Nick. She looked at him.

  "Why would you even consider giving me such a gift?" she asked, her thoughts playing havoc in her head. For all she knew he'd spent the previous night with Sheridan. Billie had chosen to back off in order to give him time to work on the relationship and win back the woman he'd claimed had broken his heart.

  "I promised you free riding lessons. You need a good horse. I thought—"

  "What did you think, Nick?" she demanded, already suspecting the truth. He had no guarantee that Sheridan would reconcile with him, although she seemed hell-bent on it. Was Billie his backup plan, someone he could come to if things didn't work out with the woman he really loved? Someone who would soothe his wounded ego the next time Sheridan flattened it against the stable door? And what did he expect in the meantime? Was she supposed to hang around and wait for him out of sheer gratitude?

  Billie had to admit she was not only angry but hurt. If Nick thought he could buy her, he was looking in the wrong direction.

  "Listen, I could have bought you a box of stationery or a scarf to show you my thanks for taking Deedee off my hands, but this gift was as meaningful for me to give you as I'd hoped it would be for you to receive."

  "A box of stationery would have been more appropriate."

  "I know. But I wanted to give you Velvet instead. It would mean a lot to me if you would accept him."

  He touched her hand. "Would it help if I told you there are no strings attached?"

  Billie took a moment to reconsider. Had she misunderstood Nick's motives? Had he only meant to show his appreciation because she had taken Deedee off his hands so he could turn his attention to Max and now Sheridan? Their worlds were vastly different—a box of stationery was a nice gift to give as far as she was concerned, but a millionaire like Nick could afford to be more generous.

  "Nick, I can't possibly accept this horse. I can't afford to board him."

  "You can board him here for free."

  She wondered how many horses in the stalls belonged to girlfriends, ex- and otherwise. "What about Sheridan?"

  He blinked. "What about her?"

  "She is, well, she was your fiancee."

  "Yes, she was. Pa
st tense."

  "Nevertheless, I don't want to get into the middle of something unpleasant."

  "Sheridan boards her horse here, but she doesn't tell me how to run my business or my personal affairs."

  "I thought perhaps the two of you would iron out your difficulties and get back together."

  Nick couldn't hide his surprise. "That isn't likely to happen. Sheridan and I parted ways months ago."

  "It's obvious she wants you back."

  "Look, if you really want to discuss this, I will, but the only reason Sheridan would even think of wanting to resume our relationship is because I've backed off, and she loves a good challenge."

  "She looks like someone who's accustomed to getting what she wants."

  "In most cases, yes, and she's not above using her father's influence to get it. They're very much alike."

  Billie was torn. Was it really over for Nick and Sheridan? At least he sounded convinced. But what lengths would the woman go to in order to win him back?

  "Nobody has ever given me something this nice," she confessed, gazing at the horse in awe. "I don't know what to say except thank you very much." She turned to him. "In the future, though—"

  "You get stationery." He smiled, relieved to have the matter settled. "I thought we'd go out on a trail ride. I need to unwind and you need to make friends with Velvet."

  She nodded.

  He helped her mount and adjust her stirrups. "We'll just walk tonight. You can give him a loose rein. When you want him to go forward, apply a little pressure like this," he said, positioning her leg against the horse as he'd shown her before with Zeke. He took her hand in his and arranged the double rein between her fingers. "When you want to stop or go slower you apply a little pressure here." He demonstrated a slight tightening of the reins. "Okay?"

  "Okay." Billie tried the commands and felt cautiously optimistic when the horse obeyed. She solemnly followed Nick down the wide dirt drive, mesmerized by Velvet's steady rhythm, his long ebony mane and tail flowing to the cadence of his step. Nick pulled his horse up beside Velvet so they could ride side by side, and Billie noticed the tension in his jaw as he stared into the distance. "Tough day?"

  He shrugged. "Small domestic problem."

  "Want to talk about it?"

  "Maybe later. Right now I'm trying to forget."

  "You're not being too successful," Billie observed.

  "No."

  They rode on in silence through the tall grasses of the meadowlands east of the house. Rabbits and pheasant scurried from the intrusion of horses and humans, and a broad-tailed hawk circled overhead, rising and dropping on the evening drafts. Billie tilted her head back to watch him, unaware that she was being watched.

  The light reflected off something nearby. Nick spotted Max, but decided it wasn't the best time to go after him. The kid crouched in the crook of a thick-leafed maple that hugged the treeline marking the end of the meadow. He was dressed in long denim shorts and a sloppy T-shirt that read "Save Planet Earth." His baggy socks bunched at the top of his black-and-white high-top sneakers, revealing long skinny legs and scraped knees. His dark hair was too long, slightly unkempt, his bangs falling past his eyebrows where they sometimes got in the way of his wire-framed eyeglasses.

  Nick reined in his horse at the top of a hill and drew the boundaries of his property for Billie. They gazed at the sun, fat and red, slipping behind dark clouds and mauve hills. Maybe twenty minutes of twilight left, he thought. Not enough time to get to the barn and send out a patrol. The house was closer, but Nick wasn't sure it was safe. Max would never intentionally hurt anyone, but he was human ... and humans made mistakes. It was a mistake that Nick worried about.

  He sighed and turned his horse toward the barn.

  "We'd better be heading back," he told Billie.

  Billie glanced at the treeline and then at Nick. He'd seen something he didn't like—the grim look on his face told her as much—but she couldn't imagine what it was, and she had the distinct impression he didn't want to tell her. It was the ornery bit of Irish inherited from her mother's side of the family that made her want to push. "Well?"

  Nick looked at her sideways. "Well what?"

  "What's out there?"

  "Sky, trees, grass ..."

  "And?" Billie prodded.

  "And you're pretty nosy," he teased, not wanting to get into a discussion about Max. The kid would bring out the mother and the teacher in Billie, and she'd start talking about the boy needing hugs again. She'd want to reform him, take him under her wing. And Max would make mincemeat out of her. Nick had seen it happen before. Max didn't take kindly to maternal authority, and his methods of rebuffing it could border on the diabolical.

  "Not going to tell me, huh?"

  "Nope."

  Billie looked at him slyly. "There are ways of making a man talk, you know."

  Nick grinned. "Sex?"

  "Pie."

  "Playing hardball again, huh?"

  "You don't know the half of it," Billie said. "It's apple. Freshly baked and perfect. Golden flaky crust, just a hint of cinnamon, nice tart apples."

  "And if I spill my guts, I get this pie?"

  "Yeah."

  "And if I don't talk, what then?"

  "Well, actually, you get the pie anyway," Billie admitted. "I baked it for you this morning. Sort of a thank-you for the steak and ice cream."

  Nick's eyes darkened. "Looks like if you want information you're going to have to find a new bribe. Maybe I should name the terms."

  Billie's stomach dipped. "Apple pie is about as high as I'm prepared to go right now."

  He shrugged. She had not said no, she was merely putting him off temporarily, especially if she was still concerned about Sheridan. There was a difference, and he had to admit it made the prospect of their mating even more exciting. "Then I'd love some pie." Nick guided their horses toward the stable and dismounted once they reached the entrance. He handed his horse over to the groom who'd taken Arnie's place.

  He went to Billie's side. "A little slower this time," he said, waiting for her to swing her leg over Velvet's back. He stepped close, ready to aid her if she needed it. She slid the length of him, and his body responded instantly. "Are you sure you don't want to renegotiate?"

  Billie felt her heart accelerate as her body touched his. She took a steadying breath and scooted away. "I'm still counting on the pie. I figure if you mellow on chocolate-chip-cookie fumes, you'll be putty in my hands after you taste my pie."

  "Is that what you want?" he said in a sexy whisper, backing her against the partially opened barn door.

  "Would you like me to be putty in your hands?" He could only imagine what it would be like having a certain part of himself in her hands.

  Playful flirting, Billie thought, but it could easily be turned into something much more serious ... something she wasn't prepared for. "I'd like you to show me how to take care of Velvet."

  Nick sighed and eased away from her. While it was definitely physically frustrating, Billie's slow pace was almost refreshing. Most women were easier, but the woman before him presented a challenge. He had known women who couldn't be rushed, not many, but enough to have made him more than capable of planning a strategy that worked, even with the best of them. He realized, even as he thought it, that he was still the same old Nick, the king of cads.

  When they left the barn an hour later, Nick walked Billie to her minivan and peered through the window at his pie. "You weren't kidding! You really did bake me a pie."

  Billie feigned insult as she opened the door. "Did you doubt me?"

  "No. Not for a second."

  She handed him the pie and looked around for his car. "Where's your car?" Even in the dark, Billie could see Nick flush under a five o'clock shadow.

  "I'd rather not talk about it."

  "Seems like there are a lot of things you'd prefer not to talk about today."

  Nick sighed and looked longingly at the pie. "What I'd really prefer is to go home with y
ou and eat this pie in your nice sane house."

  He was serious, Billie thought, sensing a hint of tired vulnerability in his voice. She gave him a spontaneous hug. It was the sort of hug you'd give to a teddy bear or a toddler, and it brought a smile to Nick's face. "Don't get any ideas," she said. "I just thought a hug might help."

  "It did. I needed a hug."

  "You can have the pie, too," she said, handing it to him. "And you can eat it in my house. I might even be able to find some second-rate ice cream to go with it."

  Nick gratefully sank into the passenger seat, silently acknowledging that Max was wearing him down, that the hostile parting with Arnie had him concerned, and that Sheridan wasn't making things any easier by making demands on him. When her attempt at seduction hadn't worked, nor her ploy to make him feel guilty, she had resorted to threats. Not that he took her seriously. It was only one of the many devices she used to get what she wanted. Her daddy had taught her well. But Nick was determined not to let it ruin his evening with Billie. The pie and the hug had done it. Somehow, while he was lusting after Billie Pearce's delicious body, she had managed to make him feel less tense, and his troubles less bothersome.

  Nick remained quiet on the ride to her house, and, as if sensing his need for silence, Billie didn't press for conversation. She parked the minivan and unlocked her front door, taking pleasure in the faint aroma of apple pie that lingered in the still air of the foyer. She and Nick removed their dusty riding boots and padded in stocking feet to the kitchen. Halfway through the pie they gave up slicing it and ate family-style from the pie plate.

  "I didn't have dinner," Nick confessed. "I was afraid Max had booby-trapped the refrigerator."

  Billie speared a succulent slice of apple. "You're going to have to do something about Max."

  "Yeah." Tomorrow, Nick thought. Tonight he was going to do something about Billie Pearce.

  Nick pushed away from the pie and stood. "You know what we need to do now? We need to walk the dog."

  A surprised Billie followed after Nick as he took the leash from its wall hanger and hooked it onto Buffy's collar. They stepped out into the steamy Virginia night. The air was thick with the smell of freshly cut grass and roses, and light shone from neighbors' windows, emphasizing the cloying blackness of a moonless sky and unlit street. Once again, they were quiet, but Billie was aware of his every move. She caught him looking at her several times.