He said nothing as she walked back to the bed, an extra swing in her hips, blouse left half open, eyes glittering with the confidence of a woman who knows a man’s watching her and that he’s enjoying the view immensely.
She stopped at the side of the bed. “We do need to get to work, however inconvenient the timing. That leaves two options. Either I get dressed, or I …” Her gaze dropped to his crotch. “… take care of the problem I caused.”
“I’d hate to ask you to get dressed.”
She laughed, eased onto the bed, and tugged down his boxers with one hand. The other hand reached in, her warm fingers wrapping around—
The phone rang. His phone.
“It’s mine,” he said as she paused. “Just ignore …” He struggled to finish the sentence. Ignore it. Keep going. But it could be Malcolm. Or Elena. And he shouldn’t be …
Ah, shit.
“Answer,” she said, pulling up his boxers. “I’ll give you a rain check. Redeemable at any time, anyplace.”
She grinned wickedly, and the thought of all the places he could redeem that rain check gave him pause. It also made him think whoever was calling could wait a few minutes. But Vanessa was already handing him his phone from the nightstand. When he saw the number, he swore. Reese. It could have waited.
No, he realized with an inward sigh, it couldn’t have. Even if he’d known that it was almost certainly nothing more urgent than, Hey, where’d you put the TV remote? it didn’t matter, because it could be more urgent, and there was no way he was focusing on sex while worrying about that.
He answered.
“Okay,” Reese said. “I give up. I need an address.”
Nick flipped to his messages, seeing if he’d missed a text. He hadn’t.
“What?” he said.
“I’m breaking down and admitting that I’m a lousy detective. I can’t find you. I need an address.”
Nick went still. Before he could ask what the hell Reese meant—and please don’t let it be what it seems to be—Reese continued, “I’ve been here for two hours. I’ve called every bloody five-star hotel and even a few of the fours. I’ve used your name and both your aliases. My master plan to show up on your doorstep has failed.”
“You’re in Detroit …?”
“Um, yeah. Kinda the gist of what I was saying.”
“What the hell are you—?”
Nick clipped his question short. As he paused, Reese continued, talking fast, rambling, as if he could distract Nick from the why with details of the how, explaining that he’d told Antonio that Nick called to say Reese could join him on his mission. Then he packed a bag, drove to Detroit overnight, and spent the last few hours trying to figure out where Nick was staying.
“You told Elena, right?” Nick said. He knew the answer, but he asked anyway.
A long pause.
“Let me rephrase that,” Nick said. “You asked Elena. That’s a statement not a question, because she’s the Alpha, and you would never do something like this without checking with her, and if you have, then Clay is going to kick your ass all the way back home for being so damned disrespectful that you didn’t even think to ask.”
Silence, then a quiet, “Shit.” A pause. “Should I …? I’ll call her now.”
“Where are you?”
“Some diner—”
“Where exactly are you? Name and location.”
The pause seemed to get even longer this time, though the question was a simple one. “What happened?” Reese said finally.
“Give me the damned address.”
Reese did.
“Now stay there. Understand? Do not leave that table, not even to take a piss. I’ll be there in half an hour, and I’d damned well better find you still in that seat.”
“Um, what’s up?”
“Did you hear me?”
“Sure. I just …”
Reese trailed off, and Nick could hear the concern and uncertainty in his voice, as he had when Nick first demanded the address. Yes, at home, Nick set the schedules and the boundaries, and he doled out the punishments, but he never snapped orders or raised his voice.
“Just stay there,” Nick said, taking it down a notch. “Whatever happens, remain in that seat.”
“I will.”
22. NICK
Nick drove as Vanessa gave directions from her phone. He could feel her casting worried glances his way as she’d been doing since he’d hung up and started getting dressed. She’d figured out what happened from his side of the conversation. She’d said little since. Worried he’d bite her head off, too? Thinking now that maybe he wasn’t such a nice guy after all?
“I know you’re worried,” she said finally. “I’m trying to figure out how to say this without pissing you off even more …”
“Left or right?” he said, waving at the road, which ended ahead.
She checked. “Left.”
Silence until he made his turn.
“It’s a city of a million people, Nick. I know you realize the chances of Malcolm finding him …”
She went quiet. Nick kept his gaze straight ahead, but his gut churned. If Malcolm found Reese … He clenched the steering wheel. Going after Vanessa would be a dagger to Nick’s back. But Reese? That would be standing right in front of him and driving the blade through his heart. Given the choice, there was no question who Malcolm would pick.
“He won’t find Reese,” Vanessa said, her voice low. “Not this quickly. He’d need to know he was here, and start looking, and even then, Reese would have to do something stupid, like check into a hotel under his own name. He just got here. He drove around in his car and then he went for breakfast. Malcolm cannot find him.”
Silence.
“Nick …”
He eased his foot a fraction off the pedal.
“He’s Australian, right?” Vanessa said.
Nick glanced over sharply.
“I’m trying to distract you,” she said. “If you want me to shut up, tell me to shut up. But this will go better if your blood pressure is lower by the time you get there. So, if you can, tell me about Reese.”
He did, awkwardly at first, spitting out a few facts, then relaxing and talking—maybe even bragging. He didn’t reveal anything too personal, but he did talk.
“And there are two more, right?” she said. “Morgan and Noah?”
“You did your homework.”
A wry smile. “I was hoping to seduce you, remember? In retrospect, I think I’d have gotten further talking about your kids, not your conquests.”
“They aren’t—”
“I know. They’re not your kids. They aren’t even kids, technically. But they’re your family of choice.”
He managed a faint smile. “I wouldn’t exactly call it a choice. They landed in my lap and were stuck with me.”
“But you chose to take them in. To give them a home. Three total strangers.”
Nick shifted. “Noah wasn’t—”
“I know. He’s the son of an old friend. But you know what I mean. You just don’t like taking credit.”
“Because I didn’t do anything to deserve it. We have money. We have a big house. I have time for them. I wanted to do this. It was my choice, and I don’t think I’ve ever made a better one. I’m not cut out for children. I realized that when Elena and Clay had the twins. This is right for me.”
A moment of silence, then she said, “Make a left up here.”