Page 61 of Storm Warning
“I mentioned Nick’s parents were flighty, yes?” Marguerite pressed on, her expression tight with frustration. “They effectively abandoned him. Left him alone at the manor my husband and I managed. They only showed up once or twice a year for a few days, seldom bothered to call, and never sent birthday or Christmas gifts. Nothing. Can you imagine?”
A pang of sadness curled in Kate’s stomach as she envisioned Nick sitting alone during the holidays, his wounded heart hidden beneath a confident smile, his hands empty on Christmas morning.
“And if that was not enough,” Marguerite continued, rolling her eyes in disdain, “everyone he met held a hand out formoney. Even the high school he attended kept trying to squeeze him dry for funds.”
Kate winced at the picture Marguerite painted of greedy hands reaching for Nick, clawing at him like vultures.
“He still gets bombarded with requests all the time. It is suffocating to him.”
Marguerite paused, staring into Kate’s eyes with an intensity that made Kate’s breath catch. “Because of his upbringing, Nick developed this phobia,” she said, her voice softer now, almost a whisper. “He believes people only see his public face, the mask he wears, and not the man beneath it.”
She tightened her fingers on Kate's. “When you accused him of playing you, I believe it brought all those old feelings back. He probably thought you were like everyone else—unable, or unwilling, to look beneath the surface.”
“Oh, no!” Kate’s heart dropped like a stone as her free hand flew to her mouth, remorse washing over her in an icy wave. She now understood Nick’s reserve was more than a choice; it was a shield, built brick by painful brick to protect the fragile parts of himself others hadn’t cared to see. She never meant to hurt Nick—she hadn’t thought shecouldpierce that armor.
Marguerite gently patted her hand again, warmth radiating from her touch like summer sunshine.Was that a French thing?
“Do not fret, bébé,” she said, her voice soothing as honey. “Consciously, he knows better. You caught him off guard, and his old insecurities flared up. He will work through it to find the truth. The situation with Jessica, knowing you heard her nonsense, were hurt by her actions, shook him.”
Marguerite stood, a small smile lifting the corners of her lips as she gazed down at Kate.
“Now, I think I have meddled enough. You know the truth now: Nick was not playing games with you. My three boys are working to discover who is behind this nonsense. Honestly,bébé, I have never seen Nick like this. He is torn up about you getting hurt, blaming himself for it. It is his company under threat, and right now, he believes you would be better off without him. You may have to convince him otherwise if that is what you want.”
With a last pat on the hand, Marguerite walked away, leaving Kate in a haze of confusion, her mind a muddled mess. What did all this mean for her?
Kate frowned at the thought of Nick blaming himself. The way Marguerite spoke made everything seem so complicated, yet a flicker of hope danced in the darkness. The idea he was distressed for her stirred something deep inside—something fierce and protective, but also tender.
She wanted to reach out to him, to show him he mattered more to her than he could imagine, that she did see him as a person, not a walking wallet. But after her angry words, would he believe her?
She leaned her head back against the sumptuous pillows, the plush fabric embracing her, and closed her eyes for a moment. Taking a few yoga breaths, she inhaled deeply, trying to clear the swirling thoughts in her mind. The faint scent of jasmine from nearby filled her nostrils, sweet and calming, soothing her racing heart and frazzled nerves.
Kate needed to talk to Callie, but of course, she was meeting with Kate’s agent in Chicago.What was that about?Uncertainty gnawed at her like a persistent mouse, but she brushed it aside. There were more pressing issues at hand, like Nick. The mere thought of him sent a jolt of electricity through her, making her fingers tingle.
And somewhere deep in her heart, she already knew what she wanted to do about him, if she had the courage.
Chapter 32
Broken
Nick sat on his porch,watching the night transition into day. The glances of those around him had stabbed like daggers, as if they were waiting for him to shatter into pieces right before their eyes.
They didn’t get it—none of them.
He was already broken, and had been for a long time, long before this mess started. Hell, his own parents hadn’t wanted to be around him.
Woah! What was he thinking?His parents had been irresponsible idiots. Their opinion meant nothing to him—never had. Damn, he must be more depressed than he realized.
With a grunt, he pushed up and wandered over to the coffeemaker. In moments, the distinctive aroma of brewing coffee filled the air, rich and inviting, but it couldn’t drown out the chaos in his mind. He poured a steaming cup and sank heavily into his desk chair, its worn leather familiar and comforting. He needed caffeine and a swift kick to the head.
Time to stop wallowing and start thinking clearly. No more letting his heart lead the way; he summoned his usual cool, logical self.
First: Jessica. The situation wasn’t her fault, but she hadn’t left after Zach told her the truth about the invitation being a hoax. She was still hanging around, acting like a diva. It drove him crazy; he needed her out of his life for good. But how? Maybe Michael would have an idea.
The resort problems. Was someone after him specifically, this resort, or the company as a whole? The previous incidents had been frustrating but relatively minor annoyances. But this bit with Jessica? It struck him as personal, aimed at him rather than the resort itself.
Nick rubbed his forehead, tension a dull ache in his temples. The thought slithered into his mind that Kate might be better off without him screwing things up for her. He had been wrestling with the question of what he wanted ever since Marguerite brought it up, but he was still stuck, spinning in circles.
Did he want Kate in his life for the long haul? A flutter of hope ignited within him, his heart leaping, but it quickly soured. Did she see him? Or did she only see the image he projected?