Page 20 of Nico (Members From Money Season 2, #154)

He wandered around the dazzlingly bright ballroom and smiled absently at the greetings from their guests.

All the time wondering when the hell he could manage to discreetly take his leave.

He wanted to be with her. Two days ago, something had changed between them, and he wanted to be with her.

The inability to make that happen was slowly driving him crazy.

She had refused to spend the night with him because Gracie was going to be there and as she pointed out, it was too soon to have them sleeping in the same bed with his daughter present. And he did not have the heart to send Gracie back to the main house so he could be with Sadie.

He had had to put the little girl's need above his own monstrous ones. And they were huge and pressing as well as intense.

By the time an hour had passed, he felt as if he was suffocating. He was dressed like a damn peacock, and the tie was cutting off his air. And if one more damn woman sidled over to ask him for a dance, he was going to go mad. Stark raving mad.

Or hurt someone. He should have done the sensible thing and disappeared as soon as he read Gracie her story and she was tucked in bed. But some insanity had him agreeing to spend the night here and attend his mother's annual Christmas Eve ball.

"There will be questions," she had pointed out in what sounded like a reasonable voice.

"People want to see a united front. The ladies at my bridge and book clubs as well as the charities we're responsible for are speculating about Gracie.

We could put everything to bed if you just attend this one ball.

That's not asking too much. Besides, you'll want to be present in the morning when she wakes up.

She's expecting you to spend the day with her. "

It had all sounded so tidy, that he had agreed.

But he was yearning to be with Sadie. To make love to her, to wake up on Christmas morning with her wrapped around him.

"Dance with me."

He was about to snarl a quiet no, when his sister tugged at his arm and gave him no choice.

Bottle green eyes stared up at him as they circled the dance floor.

"You looked so fierce, I had to do something about it."

"And your solution is to dance with your brother?" He lifted his head and scanned the crowded room. "Where the hell do all these people come from? And why aren't you with that spineless ass you've been seeing?"

Lifting a hand to his cheek, she tried for soothing. "Irritable and frustrated. Two very dangerous combinations. And Gregory is not spineless. He might be a mama's boy." She shook her head. "You're right, he's a bit of a weakling."

His eyebrows lifted. "Why are you with him?"

"The sex is not bad." She grinned at the pained look on his face. "What? You don't think your little sister has sex?"

"Please." His face relaxed as he settled in her company. He had always been able to get along with her and found her presence soothing. "What caring and loving brother wants to hear that?"

"I won't mention it again." She studied his face. "You want to leave."

"Is it that obvious?"

"As clear as glass. Where is she now?"

"At home. She worked tonight and got off a few minutes ago.

Said she's just going to go to bed and sleep late.

" He scanned the room and saw his mother playing hostess to a bunch of nosy and overdressed matrons.

The party was an excuse for them to show off their overabundance of jewelry and gowns that probably cost more than the earth. The entire scene was wearing on him.

"Why does she do this every year? To what end?" he wondered.

"Mother loves a good party and it's tradition."

"One that should be done away with." He jerked one shoulder restlessly. "And I allowed myself to be roped in."

"Usually you just disappear."

"Now I know why." He made a sudden decision as soon as the song ended. "Make my excuses, will you?"

"Darling--"

"I'll be here bright and early before my daughter wakes up. If she does, tell her I'm on my way."

"You're going to her."

"Yes." He was already heading towards the doorway. "She should not be alone tonight. And neither should I."

He stepped out into the cool night, his heart pounding with anticipation.

The laughter and music faded behind him as he hurried down the steps, eager to close the distance between himself and his mother's guests.

The thought of her waiting, already drifting to sleep, propelled him forward.

He knew the risks. Questions would arise, suspicions would linger.

But none of it mattered compared to being with her.

For one night, he would set aside duty and tradition, following the pull of his own heart.

Christmas, after all, was meant to be spent with those you loved.

*****

She could not settle. Not even the wine was doing the trick.

She had soaked for half an hour in the tub, dumping in her usual beads and fragrant gels, making the water as hot as she could stand it.

She felt the warmth through every pore and the wine had a lulling effect that had her closing her heavy eyes.

But her mind was alert and chaotic. It might have been the extra work she had put in at the gallery tonight. The place would be closed for three days, which Andre had taken the opportunity and was jetting off to Cabo with a new beau. Shaking her head, she wondered when he was going to learn.

But it wasn't that. She was accustomed to working hard and the long hours had been highly fulfilling. It definitely had to do with the conversation she had with her mother. Sylvia Greene knew how to lay on the guilt and had done so without a qualm.

She had called while Sadie was doing inventory on the computer.

"I see I have to be the one to do the calling. It feels to me that I have to be begging for my only child's attention. What have I done to make you resent me this much?"

The conversation had left her drained, the feeling of melancholy staying with her throughout the day. Her mother had gone on and on about her taking a trip to Tuscany with her.

"That dreadful man I'm now divorcing did the right thing by leaving me a small villa, complete with a vineyard. An actual vineyard which is doing quite well. I would like my only child to take the trip with me."

Picking up her wine, she took a sip and wished she could block everything out.

When she had refused, the tirade had started and continued for thirty minutes.

They had ended the conversation at a standoff.

Sadie had told her a firm no, and her mother had ended with a tearful remark that her only child did not love her.

So now she was exhausted, emotionally, and physically. All she wanted to do was to slide between the sheets and sleep for two days straight. And she missed him.

Setting her wine on the lip of the tub, she grabbed the sponge and started on her left thigh.

Ever since he had given her that look and that kiss, oh God!

The man could kiss. He had melted the bones off her body and left her as weak and pliable as a noodle.

Ever since that afternoon, she had been in a feverish daze of desire that simply would not go away.

Even now thinking of him, his mouth on hers, his tongue diving into her mouth was making her nipples rigid.

"Okay girl, down," she muttered. "He has his responsibility to that beautiful child. You're an adult and can and will endure the loneliness."

Saying the words did not make it any easier.

And her skin was wrinkling from being in the water too long and it was getting lukewarm. Pulling the plug, she finished the wine and rose.

A cup of tea and then off to bed. Hopefully, she would be tired enough to fall asleep right away.

She wrapped herself in her favorite plush robe, its softness a small comfort against the chill that lingered as she stepped out of the bathroom.

The house was quiet, save for the distant hum of city traffic drifting in through the window.

For a moment, Sadie stood in the doorway, letting the silence settle over her like a blanket.

With a sigh, she padded into the kitchen, her bare feet whispering across the cool tiles.

As she waited for the kettle to boil, she glanced at her phone on the counter, the screen dark and unyielding.

No new messages. She knew she shouldn't expect one.

He had told her tonight was for his daughter, and she respected that.

Still, hope flickered stubbornly in her chest. She busied herself with the ritual of making tea: honey, a splash of milk, the familiar weight of the ceramic mug in her hands.

Cradling the mug, she made her way to the bedroom, pausing to dim the lights.

The bed looked impossibly inviting. She set her tea on the nightstand and slid under the covers, letting the warmth seep into her bones.

Tomorrow, she told herself, things would feel lighter.

Tomorrow, she would call her mother back and try again.

Maybe. For tonight, she focused on the simple comfort of her bed, the faint taste of honey on her lips, and the memory of a kiss that still lingered, sweet and electric, beneath her skin.

After taking a few sips, she put aside the cup and was about to try and settle in for the night when her phone pinged. Hoping earnestly that it was not her mother, she grabbed the phone and investigated. Her heart went still for a second before picking up speed as she read the text.

"Open the door. I'm outside."

She did not hesitate, but using the app on her phone, disengaged the alarm and opened the front door.

As soon as she saw him enter the foyer, she engaged the alarm and remembered to drag the bonnet off her head.

Combing her fingers through the silky strands, she looked down with regret at the old T-shirt she had donned after her shower.

Which could not be helped as he was already mounting the stairs.