Waiting For Nick
Page 27

"Sure, coming right up." Relieved, he left her. She'd been clinging to him all night, like poison ivy on an oak, Nick thought. That kind of possessiveness always made him determined to shake loose.
The truth was, they just weren't clicking. He didn't think he was going to break her heart or anything quite so melodramatic, but Nick had learned through sad experience that women didn't always take even the most compassionate breakup well.
He'd have to let her down gently. No doubt, the sooner he backed off, the better it would be. For her.
The idea made him feel so altruistic, and relieved, that he opened a fresh bottle of champagne with a celebratory pop.
"How come we get music only from that box?" Yuri caught Nick in a headlock that would have felled a grizzly. "Are you a piano player or not?"
"Sure, but I'm kind of tied up here."
"I want music from my family. It's my party, yes?"
The man who could deny a request from Yuri was a tougher man than Nick LeBeck.
"You bet, Papa. I'll get right on it. Here take this." He handed Yuri the glass of champagne. "No, don't drink it." With a quick laugh, Nick gestured across the room. "See the brunette over there? The one with the big… personality?"
Yuri grinned lavishly. "Who could miss?"
"Take it to her, will you? Explain I'll be playing for a while. And don't lay on too much charm."
"I'm very controlled." Then he rhumbaed over to Lorelie.
Prepared to enjoy himself, Nick made his way through the crowd to the piano. His smile dimmed considerably when he spotted Freddie already sitting on the bench.
"You're in my spot."
She shot him a look that said in no uncertain terms that she was no more pleased with the arrangement than he. "They want both of us."
"It only takes one."
"It's Papa's party, yes?"
He caught himself struggling with a grin at her imitation. "Looks that way. Move over."
He sat, deliberately shifting to avoid touching her tempting, creamy shoulder and angled toward the keyboard beside the piano.
"What do they want?"
"Cole Porter, maybe, or Gershwin."
With a grunt, Nick began the opening bars of "Embraceable You."
Freddie shrugged and flowed with him into the tune.
Twenty minutes later, she was too pleased with the partnership to attempt to be aloof. "Not too shabby."
"I can hold my own with forties stuff."
"Hmm." Automatically she picked up on the boogie-woogie he'd slid into.
He was enjoying, too much, the way she always seemed to anticipate him in any improvisation.
And her perfume was driving him insane.
"You can take five if you want. I can handle this. Ben's probably getting lonely."
"Ben?" Blank, she glanced up again. "Oh, Ben. I think he can survive without me. But you go ahead and take a break. I'm sure Lorelie misses you."
"She's not the possessive type." To cover the lie, he switched tempos, trying to catch her. But she kept pace with him easily.
"Really? Couldn't prove that by me, the way she was hanging all over you. Of course, some men—" She broke off as applause erupted. "Look at them." She laughed, everything inside her warming as she watched Yuri and Nadia jitterbugging. "Aren't they great?"
"The best. Why don't we—Son of a bitch."
"What?" She bunked, then refocused. It appeared the lonely Ben and Lorelie were finding solace with each other. If solace was quite the word, Freddie mused, for the way they were nuzzling in the corner. "She's sitting in his lap."
"I see where she's sitting."
"So much for letting him down easy," Freddie muttered, just as Nick echoed the same sentiments, applied to Lorelie.
He snapped back first. "What? What did you say?"
"Nothing. I didn't say anything. What did you say?"
"Nothing."
Suddenly they were grinning at each other.
"Well…" Freddie let out a quick breath as her fingers continued to move over the keys. "Don't they make a cute couple?"
"Adorable. Now they're going to dance."
"Too bad for her," Freddie said, with feeling. "Ben's a nice guy, but he dances like he's drilling for oil. I think he dislocated my shoulder."
"She can handle it. But let's slow this down before Yuri kills himself."
He segued into "Someone To Watch Over Me."
Freddie sighed, yearned. Romantic tunes always tugged at her heart. Flowing with it, she looked over at Nick. Maybe, while she was feeling so in tune with him, the taste of crow wouldn't stick in her throat.
"It was lovely, what you did for Grandma and Papa."
"No big deal. I just made a phone call, like you said."
"Truce," she murmured, and touched a hand to his for a moment. "It wasn't just the limo, Nick, though that was wonderful. Stocking it with all those white roses, caviar, iced vodka. It was very thoughtful."
"I figured they'd get a kick out of it." As usual, her simple sweetness layered guilt over his black mood.
Pass the crow.
"I came down pretty hard on you earlier. I should have taken into consideration all the time and effort you put into getting things ready for tonight and setting up your apartment. Though why it took you so long to look for a lamp is beyond me."
Her art deco lamp was her current pride and joy. "Why don't you stick with the apology?"
"You did a nice job on the party."
"Thanks." Pleased with the small victory, she signaled to her father to take over for her. "And since you talk so sweet," she added, leaning over to give him a kiss, "I forgive you."
"I wasn't asking you—" But she was already up and gone. Nick scowled when Spence took his daughter's place. "Women."
"Couldn't have put it better myself. She's certainly grown into an attractive, independent one."
"She was a nice kid," Nick mused. "You shouldn't have let her grow up."
Spence noted, with a glance at Nick's face, that Natasha's theory on romance probably was on the mark. There was an ache around his heart. Spence supposed there always would be, at the idea of his little girl moving into her own separate life. But there was pride, as well.