Page 2 of Nico (Members From Money Season 2, #154)

"Dance with me." As soon as they stepped into the foyer and removed their outer clothing, he took her into his arms and called for Beethoven. He usually worked with the classics and some R&B bleeding through the speakers he had set up all over the place.

Wrapping his arms around her, he placed his chin on top of her head and closed his eyes. Feeling her against him steadied him considerably. The scent of her, subtle and exotic, the slender curves beneath his hands made him want to hold her for a very long time.

And he especially loved this time when they were all alone. He was observant enough to realize that she was afraid or rather cautious. She had expressed her reservations and had confided in him about her past relationships.

He had no intention of rushing her, but there were times like now, he wanted to. Marriage? He mused that it was serious business, and it was probably prudent for them to wait.

Lifting her head from his chest, she met his eyes, her own dreamy and expectant.

"I love the look of you," he murmured. He touched her cheek and trailed his finger over her smooth skin. "I had a time of it trying to place the color of your skin," he added. "Caramel. Soft, smooth, and flawless."

She cocked her head at him, heart turning over. "Are you trying to seduce me, Coulter?"

He raised a thick brow. "Is it working?"

"Hmm." She lifted her hand and brushed back the hair that had fallen over his forehead. She had taken off her shoes and only came to his chest. His shoulders were broad, his chest wide and extremely comfortable. "I'd say that's a yes."

He touched his lips to hers, playfully, gently, nibbling at her full bottom lip, sending shivers up and down her spine. The man had a mouth on him that was designed to destroy and titillate.

His eyes were open, watching her eyes change as the passion soared.

She was usually cool and confident and remarkably strong.

He loved a strong and confident woman and especially loved slowly and systematically destroying that confidence.

He enjoyed having her trembling beneath him, her slender curves reacting to his touches.

"Nico." Her voice was husky, fingers plucking at his shirt.

"Hmm. You taste like heaven."

"Nico." She wanted him to stop. No, she wanted him to transport her to paradise and continue to destroy her senses.

"Kiss me back," he ordered hoarsely. "I want to taste you."

Helplessly, she opened her mouth and sighed raggedly when his tongue plunged. Heat turned into open flames that threatened to explode between them. His tongue invaded her mouth as he banded his arms around her small waist, almost lifting her off her feet.

The kiss took on a madness that swept through them like a tsunami. Easing her down his body, he ended the kiss and swept her into his arms.

"It has to be now," he whispered harshly.

*****

"Sorry for the mess." He trailed his fingers up and down her back as he tried to even out his breathing. They had just indulged themselves in a very active bout of lovemaking, which had his heart racing and his blood tingling.

"I take it the housekeeper gave up again?" She was content to be with him like this. At first, she had sneaked away, in order to go home. But after the first couple of nights, he had persuaded her to stay.

"Spending an entire night with me does not mean we're living together," he pointed out.

Yanking on her hair, he tugged her face up so he could see her eyes. "Is that a dig in there?"

"Absolutely."

"I thought so." He grinned disarmingly. "I have no idea what I'm doing wrong."

"You look so innocent saying that," she told him dryly. "You're officially a slob."

He looked injured. "I prefer to think of it as creative backlash."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means my sarcastic critique, that we creative souls work so hard to create, we do not find time to put things in their proper places.

" He looked around the room and grimaced at the piles and bits of pieces of his tools lying around drunkenly.

Clothes he had not bothered to put away were piled on a very attractive tan sofa in one corner.

He had chosen to live in the pool house, transforming one of the rooms to suit his specifications where he could work without having to leave to get a drink of water or something to eat.

More times than he could count, he would forget to have a meal.

"My place is as neat as a pin."

His eyes swung back to her face. "Are you disturbed by the mess?"

"A little bit."

"I tried to clean up for you."

"I take it that did not go well?"

He tugged her hair. "Shows how much I think of you to start in the first place. Mother came over and I'm sure she's going through her list to find me a dragon who can do the work and intimidate me."

"And you're so easily intimidated," she teased.

"Precisely." He played with the ends of her hair for a few seconds as he gathered his thoughts. "There's a thing next Sunday. Some sort of fall gala, a charity Mother is in charge of. Black tie and such." He lifted his eyes to hers. "I would very much like it if you would accompany me."

"Nico..."

"I could spring for the dress." He held up a hand as her eyes spit fire. She allowed him to buy her little trinkets, but nothing more. She did not need his money and told him that point blank. "I will not have your family thinking I'm a damn gold digger."

"I'd like you there with me. I hate going to these things, but you there will make it bearable."

Her eyes narrowed. "And put us further into the spotlight."

"Yes." He kept his eyes on her face. "We're after all in a relationship." Frustration was rife in his deep voice. "It's time you accepted that."

"Really?" The edge in her voice warned him that her temper was building, but at this point he did not care.

His bottle green eyes challenged her. "Yes, really.

I want to take you out on dates, goddammit.

We've been seeing each other for several months now and I consider you as my.

.." He gestured with one hand. "You're going to remind me not to put labels on what we have here, but I'm going to risk your anger by saying that you're my woman. "

"Is that so?" She was not sure she minded the term one bit and that was saying something.

"Yes." His fingers tugged at her hair not too gently. "Absolutely, one hundred percent yes. We're exclusive..."

"We'd better be."

His gimlet stare had her biting back a smile. "I'm not him, dammit, Sadie. I would never hurt you that way. I have no need to use you to get ahead. I can bloody well do it on my own."

She shifted so that she was sitting up against the padded headboard and stared at the ash gray wallpaper without seeing it. "I cannot give into her obsession," she told him quietly.

He sat up as well and shifted his head to look at her. When they had first started seeing each other, it had taken a couple of weeks for her to open up to him about her family.

"You're not her."

She shook her head. "Mama has been married five times," she said, plucking at the sheets she had used to cover her naked breasts.

"And all to men who could elevate her." She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

"Daddy was my rock." Her voice hitched and she had to swallow the lump that had lodged inside her throat.

"He was a good man, loving and kind and indulgent.

He loved her." She blinked at the tears and turned her head away, a gesture that pissed him off.

But he remained silent. "He loved us, used to call her his queen and me his princess.

The truck that ran a stop sign changed my life forever.

I was only sixteen. I grieved for him. The grief felt like it was going to last a lifetime. "

"She went through the motions for a year, before taking another husband.

Rich of course, because she was beautiful and witty.

Men adore her. She never consulted me. There I was trying to get through the loss, and she blithely announced at dinner one day that she was getting married.

I sulked, argued, and cried. Nothing worked.

" She paused and felt a tiny jolt when he took her hand and linked their fingers as if to steady her, and it did.

"Anyway, I was headed for college, thank God.

She did the decent thing and left the house daddy had paid for to me.

By that time, she had no use for it anyway.

After her third marriage, I was immune." She turned to look at him.

"All those marriages and she never had another child, so the pressure is on me to marry 'well'.

That's how she puts it. She wants a rich husband for me and has made it her quest in life. "

Lifting their joined hands, he kissed her knuckles, his eyes holding hers. "And you're determined to thwart her."

"Yes."

"Even at the expense of your own happiness."

She moved restlessly and avoided his eyes. It was uncanny, the way he could quietly stare at you and make you feel as if he could see into your very soul. She supposed it was the artist in him. "You don't understand..."

"No, I don't. I want you in my life, Sadie."

She tried to tug her hand away, but he held on. "I'm not going anywhere."

"If I go to this function with you, we'll be labeled. You're the son of a multi-billionaire and also an up-and-coming artist."

"Yes. And I'm hoping you care enough about me to take the next step."

She studied him, searching his face for the edge of jest, some slant of mischief, but there was only steady intent.

Sadie felt the warmth of his hand stilling her trembling fingers, his thumb tracing idle circles over her knuckles as though he could draw the words she could not speak directly from her skin.

"It isn't that simple for me." Her voice was a whisper, half-wariness, half-confession.