come from, complaining that the music had been too loud, the conversation too dull.
But then it all happened so fast. . . . Red screaming, Nicky shooting at the beast coming at him, Juliet getting knocked to the floor so hard by the beast that her skull shattered, splattering her gray matter all over the foyer floor. . . .
Nicky’s arm trembled ever so slightly beneath my fingertips, but when he turned to me, he forced a cockeyed grin and winked. “Come on, doll, let’s get you inside.”
I coaxed Sasha out of the backseat and into my arms before following Nicky into the house. As soon as I stepped into the foyer, my own images of walking in that night and seeing Nicky lying on the floor, bleeding out quicker than his almost indestructible Tale body could heal itself, made me shiver. Sasha yowled in protest and hopped from my arms to go explore her new surroundings.
“Sorry!” I called over my shoulder as I took off after her. “I’ll catch her before she gets into anything!”
I heard Nicky calling my name, telling me not to worry about it, but the last thing I needed was my cat peeing on Nicky’s carpet or clawing up his curtains. I was already imposing enough as it was.
Sasha shot up the stairs like a bat out of hell. I tried to follow, but my clunky snow boots were making pursuit difficult and I quickly fell behind. “Damn it, Sasha! Come back here!”
I finally made the landing and pulled off my boots, tossing them aside. I caught a glimpse of her shooting into one of the bedrooms and ran down the hall after her. When I reached the room, I flipped on the light and gasped, wondering if I’d just stepped back in time. The room was the size of my entire apartment and decked out with heavy wooden furniture and opulent crimson and gold brocade. In the center of the ceiling hung an intricately designed gilded chandelier that looked like it belonged in an Italian palace, not a mansion along Chicago’s North Shore.
I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and turned my head just in time to catch a glimpse of a woman hurrying into an adjacent room. Thinking Nicky must’ve already started replacing his staff since returning to town, I hurried after her. “Excuse me!” I called. “I’m looking for my cat. Have you seen—”
I was surprised to find myself standing in a massive closet nearly the size of the bedroom. Alone. I turned in a slow circle, looking for another door where the maid might’ve exited before I came in, but there was only the one way in or out. The closet was filled with
beautiful—and expensive—clothes, some with the tags from Saks and Burberry still attached. Blouses, jackets, skirts . . . and enough shoes to make Kim Kardashian green with envy. Oddly, though, everything in the closet belonged to a woman. There wasn’t even the slightest indication of a male presence. This had been Juliet’s room, I guessed—and Juliet’s room alone.
“Trish?”
I gave a little yelp, nearly jumping out of my skin. I whirled around, grasping my chest, where my heart felt like it was about to burst out, and let loose a vivid tirade of curse words that was positively inspired.
Nicky held his arms out, crouching a little as if he expected me to attack him. “Whoa, whoa—it’s just me.”
“I saw a woman come in here,” I barked at him. “Where the hell did she go?”
He shook his head. “There’s no one else here, honey. It’s just you and me.”
I glanced around the closet again, searching the racks of clothing still hanging in neatly color-coordinated sections, fully expecting to see someone peeking out from between cocktail dresses or silk blouses. “B-but . . . I swear I saw someone. . . .”
Nicky came to me and took hold of my shoulders. “There’s no one here,” he assured me, enunciating each word as his gaze locked with mine. “Just you. And me.”
I felt a little tug between us, that initial hitch that told me a connection was starting. But it was different from anything I’d felt before. Instead of originating deep inside my psyche, this one started in the center of my chest, pulling me closer to Nicky. Perplexed by the new sensation, I tried to resist, but it jerked me back with a sharp tug, making me stumble forward and right into his arms.
“Oh, God,” I mumbled, clumsily trying to extricate myself from his hold. “I’m so sorry.”
He chuckled. “Forget about it,” he said with a shrug. “I thought maybe you were just taking me up on my offer.”
I frowned up at him. “Your offer?”
He hit me with that grin of his and spread his arms wide, gesturing toward himself with his hands. “Throwing yourself into my arms?”
I rolled my eyes, trying my damnedest not to blush to the roots of my hair but probably failing miserably. “Oh, that offer.”
He chuckled, bringing a sleepy smile to my lips as I tried to stifle a yawn. “I think it’s time you got some sleep,” he said, putting an arm around my shoulders and leading me out to the bedroom. “It’s been one hell of a night.”
The presence of his arm around my shoulders and the warmth of his body so close to mine was making it hard to concentrate—and breathe—so the best I could manage in response was a slight nod.
“Feel free to help yourself to some of Juliet’s clothes,” he said, gesturing absently toward the heavy dresser against the wall. “You’re about the same size she was, so you should be able to find something. You’ve got to be freezing in those wet pajamas.”
Oh, not as much as you might think. . . .
I snuggled into his hold ever so slightly, and to my surprise his arm tightened, curling me into him for a brief hug before he released me. “As soon as you change, I’ll show you to one of the guest rooms. I never liked this room much.”
I glanced up at him, wondering what about this room he disliked, but his expression had gone dark. Asking any questions was clearly not an option.
After watching him leave the room and close the door, I set about finding something warm and dry to put on. I had to shake my head at Nicky’s proclamation that I was pretty much the same size as Juliet. She’d been five foot eight and all legs. And I was . . . well . . . not. I managed to find a pair of yoga pants that had probably been capris on Juliet and so luckily didn’t drag the ground when I pulled them on. Finding a shirt, on the other hand, proved to be more of a challenge. I pulled out several cotton baby-doll shirts that were so tiny I quickly tossed them aside.
“Good lord,” I grumbled, “didn’t this woman have any boobs? Criminy! What grown woman wears an extra small anything?”
I finally found a plain pink T-shirt that had probably been Juliet’s kicking around shirt for those days when she was feeling a little bloaty and didn’t want to wear her clothing as a second skin. It fit me well enough, accentuating my hourglass curves without looking like it’d been painted on.
I took a look at myself in the mirror. The outfit didn’t scream Do me now, Nicky, but at least I wasn’t soaking wet anymore. But, dear God, my hair was a train wreck. I quickly ran my hands through my ringlets a few times, trying to smooth them a little, but it didn’t do a lot of good. I finally huffed and threw my hands up in despair. Oh, well. What the hell did it matter? He’d already seen me at my most disheveled and hadn’t run away screaming in horror.
Nicky was leaning against the wall when I came out of the room, and when he looked up and met my gaze I felt that odd little tug again and gasped. His intense amber eyes took me in at a glance, and an emotion I couldn’t quite place passed across his face.
Great.
Seeing me in Juliet’s clothes had to be stirring up all kinds of emotions he’d been trying to bury down deep these last couple of years. Awesome.
“Feel better?” he asked, his smile strained.
“Just exhausted,” I admitted.
“How’s the arm?”
I glanced down at it, surprised to find it wasn’t throbbing any longer. “Uh . . . fine, actually.” I quickly unwrapped it and rotated my wrist, testing the joint. It was completely healed without even a lingering ache. “Weird. There’s no way it should’ve healed that fast.”
“Of all the crazy shit that’s gone down tonight,” Nicky drawled, “I’d say your wrist healing faster than usual
