“Which equals money.”
“Yes.”
“And you need the money to…”
“Vanish.” She pressed her face into Sadie’s neck. “Ted drained my bank account. With an ATM card I gave him.”
He stared at her, saw her pain and humiliation, and bit back his oath. “What about your family? Can’t they help you?”
“It’s just my mother. We’re…not very close. Besides, she doesn’t have any extra money.”
“I see.” And damn it, now he did. She was truly alone in this. She was going to take her dog and walk right out of his life.
He should let her.
But he didn’t want her to go. Didn’t want to lie awake for the next fifteen years still wondering what if…
5
“WELL.” Danielle put on a smile that might have wobbled just a bit before she forced it, and reached for Sadie’s leash. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you’ve done.”
Nick was standing close, too close, looking edgy and more than a little unnerving because of it.
What did he want?
He’d let her in. He’d taken the pictures he hadn’t wanted to. He’d put up with the nervous Sadie when he didn’t know or understand dogs.
And he’d lied to the police.
That alone would have made her grateful forever, but now she owed him, and she hated that. Combined with all the memories from so long ago, with her silence over her friends’ behavior, with the way he’d saved her that night as he had today, she felt unsteady. Nervous. Over the years, Nick had become the chance she had never-but should have-taken.
Now, on top of it, he’d touched some personal part of her she’d promised no man could ever touch again. “Thank you,” she said, knowing it wasn’t enough.
His sharp green eyes narrowed, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “That sounds like goodbye.”
“Do you suppose I could take the film you shot of Sadie? I’ll pay you for it, and then have it developed myself.”
“Where?”
“I’ll take it to one of those one-hour places.”
He winced.
“Oh, don’t be a photo lab snob now,” she said, trying not to notice how her body liked being close to his, how it leaned even closer, making her stomach tickle. How his hands were shoved low in his front pockets, drawing her attention to- “I really need to go,” she said abruptly.
“Yeah.” His hands came out of his pockets to touch her arms. He stroked them up and down the limbs she hadn’t realized were chilled from stress and worry. And in spite of herself, she let out a little shiver that had nothing to do with being cold.
At the involuntary movement, he went still, very still, as if he felt it, too, that inexplicable connection from his flesh against hers.
An odd sound escaped her, one that sounded horrifyingly like…need, so she bit her lip to keep quiet.
In return, he let out a rough groan. “Do you remember that night, Danielle? The dance?”
She closed her eyes, her heart squeezing as the years fell away in her mind. “I remember.” It played across the backs of her eyes with startling clarity. “Prom.”
“You looked beautiful.”
“I was with Adam Bennett.”
“Star of the football team.” His voice hardened. “First-class asshole.”
Danielle opened her eyes, but the images were still there. “He took off, leaving me in the parking lot because I…um, didn’t want to…”
“Yeah.” Nick’s eyes held so much, she could hardly look at him. “I gave you a ride home.”
She’d stared out the passenger window of his car, wondering if all men were jerks. “You never said a word, didn’t tell me how stupid I’d been to go with him, about how my friends treated you, nothing.” She marveled at that all over again. “You just drove me home, to the trailer park I didn’t want you to see, walked me to the door, and…”
A ghost of a smile crossed his mouth. “That and gave me great dreams for years.”
He was staring at her mouth, making her stomach fizzle again. “It was just a kiss,” she said.
“Hmm.” His lips curved into a full smile now. “Some ‘just a kiss.’ You should know, I’ve never forgotten it.”
“Me neither,” she admitted. It hadn’t been like her other experiences. He hadn’t shoved his tongue down her throat or his hands up her shirt.
Nick’s mouth had been gentle, tender and incredibly, amazingly arousing. If she was being honest, then she also had to admit she’d yearned for another like it. From him, something she’d been sure had been a lost opportunity.
They were nearly mouth to mouth now, and though she had no idea who’d moved closer to whom, she stood there staring up at him, mesmerized. He stared, too, for so long her tongue darted out to lick her suddenly dry lips.
With another deep, dark sound from his throat, he stepped back. “Damn it. I can’t.”
“Can’t…what?”
“Can’t let you walk out of here, knowing you’re in trouble.”
She couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at her like that, as if she really mattered, and without warning, her throat closed. In danger of losing it, she sought to lighten the mood that had spiraled out of her control. “Do you save all the fair maidens?”
“Only you, apparently.” He wasn’t going to help her lighten anything. “Where will you go?”
“You don’t really want to know.”
“Yes, I do.”
“If you don’t know, we can go back to what we were. Two people who went to high school together, two people who’ve lost track of each other.” She turned away. “You don’t know anything about me, and-”
“And what?” He whipped her back to face him. “You don’t know me? Here, try this. I’m business-sitting for my two sisters. I have a great family I don’t see often enough. I’m a journalist. Hard news, mostly. I dabble in photography. Just took my first dog shots. The past two weeks have been my first vacation since…” He frowned. “Since I don’t remember.” His frown deepened. “What else do you want to know?”
“Nick-”
“I’ve been traveling the world writing stories since right after college, and you know what?” He bent a little to look right into her eyes. “I can’t recall when I’ve been back here for more than five days straight since high school graduation, and yet we ran into each other. Here. Now.” He touched her jaw, shaking his head in wonder. “Don’t you think that’s odd? Or maybe just fate?”
“I don’t believe in fate,” she said flatly, then held out her hand. “Can I have the film please?”
With a finger so light she might have imagined it except she was looking right at him, he scooped back a rogue strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ears. “You look tired,” he said softly.
If he only knew. She hadn’t slept in days, only snatches here and there. “I can’t take the time to rest, not yet.”
“You have bruises under your eyes.” Bruises he ran his finger over lightly, as if he could remove them with just a touch. “Where have you been sleeping?”
In the back seat of a far too small Honda, borrowing the use of a shower when she could, but that sounded pathetic, and her pride reared its ugly head again. “I’ll be fine.” She continued to hold out her hand for the film. “Just tell me how much.”
“No.”
“No?” Panic surged. “I need that film, Nick.”
He sighed. “Yes, you can have the film. No, you can’t pay me. Look, obviously we can’t stay here, but I can develop the black-and-white shots at my place. It’s here, in Providence. Let me do that for you.”
She stared at him, half suspicious, half dying to be able to believe in someone, anyone. “Why?”
“Why?” He looked baffled that she’d even ask. “Do I look like the kind of man who’d let you walk out that door, knowing the trouble you’re in? Knowing that your ex could find you at any moment? That the cops are looking for you? That you’re scared and alone and probably beyond exhausted, not to mention hungry and broke?”