Restrained Box Set: Boston Doms Books 1-4, page 47
Accents? Untoward glances beyond the standard lewd looks the men often gave the women?
“Of course. What kind of cop do you think I am?”
“The kind who stays out of bars and clubs,” Nick replied. “And the most vanilla man on the bloody planet.”
Cal laughed, his indignation fading. “That I may be, but my guys practically scream ‘cop.’ Doesn’t matter if they’re dressed head-to-toe in black leather and chains or a three-piece suit. The only good undercover guys I’ve got right now are tied up on another case. I hate to ask. But…would you consider going back? You understand that lifestyle. Hell, you live it. You won’t stand out.”
“You do know who I am, yeah?” Nick stared at his empty glass. Another?
Why the hell not? “I stand out, Cal. Alex may be the more recognizable Fairhaven these days but after tonight? The press is going to be on my ass
unless my lawyer can work miracles. I can see the headlines now. ‘What’s disgraced billionaire Nicholas Fairhaven up to?’ That sort of shite.” His words slurred as he poured more whiskey.
“How much have you had to drink?” Cal’s voice became sharper as his authoritative lieutenant persona pushed to the surface. “Maybe I should come over.”
“Not enough. And no. I’m not in danger of relapsing tonight. Before I called, maybe. Not anymore. The drink quiets the memories. Once I go to bed, it’ll be done for another year.”
“Nick, grief is a dangerous emotion. It makes us do things we’d never think of otherwise. Promise me one thing.”
He didn’t want to promise a damn thing, but Cal had saved his life—more than once. “What?”
“If you even think of placing a bet, you call me back. I don’t care what time it is or what I’m doing. And we’re going to a meeting tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Fine. I’ll meet you at seven.” Nick tossed back the last of his drink. “And I’m not going back to Bound, Cal. If I do, my brother might never speak to me again. Now, if there’s nothing else, I’d like to get on with it, yeah?”
Cal mumbled, “Fine. Drink a couple of glasses of water, will ya?”
“Maybe.” Nick jabbed the screen to end the call, but then stared at the phone in his hand for so long, by the time he returned his gaze to his glass, all of the ice had melted. Perhaps another drink wasn’t such a good idea.
“I’m sorry, darling,” he whispered to Lia’s memory, just out of reach. “I hope you’re at peace now.”
5
Nick
A little after 8:00 a.m., Nick rapped on his brother’s front door. He’d slept poorly—the alcohol hadn’t helped—and he wanted to forget the past twenty-four hours. Except for Sofia. The one bright spot in an otherwise awful day. Within a few seconds, Samuel, Alex’s majordomo, answered the door. “Good morning, sir. Mr. Fairhaven is in his study. Can I offer you coffee?”
“No, Samuel. Thank you.” Nick strode towards Alex’s home office without removing his coat. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be staying long.
His brother looked up when he entered, and Nick read the frustration and disappointment in Alex’s eyes. Rushing to stop the tirade that would quickly follow, he held up his hand. “Ben is filing an injunction against the Babbler as we speak. Phone cameras are the single worst invention of the modern age.”
Alex vibrated with anger. “They accused you of letting that girl overdose.
Why else would you be photographed with an unconscious woman and a syringe, Nicholas? At a BDSM club, no less. I realize our sexual preferences aren’t a secret, but that doesn’t mean we should flaunt them in front of the whole world.” Alex sank back in his chair and scrubbed his face with his hands. “I’ve spent the past hour trying to placate the board. You’re lucky they haven’t already filed a motion to sever all ties with you. If this story gains any traction, releasing our quarterly financials won’t give us the stock price
boost we’ve been counting on.”
“Can I talk now?” Nick dropped into a chair across from Alex. “I’ve never touched a damn thing stronger than scotch, and you know it.”
“Until last night?”
“Stop interrupting.” Though Alex had three inches and fifty pounds on him—all of it muscle—Nick didn’t have any qualms about using his extra five years of life against his brother. “Terrance dragged me out last night.
You know what day it was. And yet, you didn’t bother to call.”
Alex flinched. “Elizabeth wasn’t feeling well. I couldn’t leave her.”
“You couldn’t have picked up the fucking phone?” Alexander’s ambivalence towards the worst day of Nick’s year—of his life—didn’t sit well, but after a moment, he processed his brother’s words. “Is Elizabeth okay?”
Alexander’s wife helped bridge the tense relationship between the two brothers, and though Nick had largely stayed away of late, she still called to check up on him from time to time. In her, Nick had found a sympathetic ear, and above all, understanding. She’d even softened Alex—most of the time.
“Her father had a heart attack. A week ago. She only found out yesterday.” Venom infused Alex’s tone, and Nick thought he heard his brother’s teeth grind together. “I’ve sent a private investigator to try to find out more information and the jet is on standby.”
“Fuck me. I’m sorry, Alex. If there’s anything I can do—”
“You can stay out of the bloody news.” Alex’s phone buzzed, and he glanced down at the screen. “Explain. Quickly.”
When Nick finished recounting the events of the previous night, Alex sighed. “Get the real story out today, Nicholas. And for fuck’s sake, if you can get the girl to give a statement, do so.”
This time, when Alex’s phone rang, he jabbed the screen. “Yes?” After a moment, he covered the microphone with his hand. “I need to take this. Fix this cock-up and let me know when it’s done.”
Nick slunk out of his brother’s office feeling more like a chastised teenager than the forty-one-year-old heir to a billion-dollar fortune.
Sofia
“Have you seen my student ID?” Sofia dumped her backpack out on the kitchen counter and cursed as her lip gloss and highlighters clattered onto the floor and rolled away. “Gina! Get your ass out here and help me. I’m going to be late for my exam.”
With a yawn, Sofia’s younger sister trudged into the kitchen. A lipstick smear trailed along the corner of her mouth, and bloodshot eyes blinked slowly in an attempt to focus. “It’s too early,” she whined as she tried to straighten her robe. “Have a heart, Sis.”
“You’re the one who stayed out until 4:00 a.m. and then came in like a heard of elephants.” Sofia thrust her hand deep into her backpack, rooting around desperately. “You borrowed my ID again, didn’t you?”
“I needed the Apple store discount.” Gina pulled a shiny new iPhone from the pocket of her robe. “I can’t very well backpack across Switzerland with a four-year-old phone, now can I?” Heading for the coffee pot, Gina poured herself a cup and leaned against the counter.
She’s leaving soon. Don’t lose it.
Despite herself, Sofia clenched her hands into fists and leveled a glare at her sister. “What did you do with my ID? I can’t take my exam without it.”
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’ll find it.”
“Now,” Sofia snapped as her sister lifted the mug to her lips. “If I don’t leave in the next five minutes, it won’t matter. Professor Ott won’t let me in the door if I’m late.”
As Gina disappeared back into her bedroom, Sofia grumbled and shoved her book, notebook, and wallet into her backpack. Where had she gone wrong with her sister? For ten years, she’d taken care of Gina. Hell, she’d given up her own dreams so Gina could go to school and not worry about working.
Would a little less attitude be too much to ask?
“Gina! I swear, if I fail this test because of you…”
With a sigh, Gina leaned against the door jamb and held out the student ID. “Relax, Sis. One ID. Safe and sound.”
Snatching her precious identification from her sister’s outstretched hand, Sofia bolted out the door. It’d be a miracle if she made it to her test on time.
Panting, her shoulder aching from the heavy load and the long run across the quad, Sofia swiped her student ID across the building’s card reader. The halls were packed. She bobbed and wove through the throng of students before skidding to a halt as Professor Ott started to pull the classroom door closed. “Wait! Please!”
Pushing sixty, the tall woman with a crown of gray hair raised a brow.
“Cutting it rather close, aren’t you Miss Oliviera?”
“The T…was packed,” she gasped as she pointed at the clock on the classroom wall. “I’m still on time.”
“Barely.” The professor sighed, then stepped back to let Sofia through the door. “Take your seat and begin.”
At the end of the exam, Sofia let her head hit the desk with a solid thunk.
She’d studied for a week, yet her brain felt like Swiss cheese. Or perhaps a waterlogged sponge, incapable of soaking up a single additional fact.
“Miss Oliviera?” Professor Ott stood over her with a stack of tests cradled in her arms. “I probably don’t have to tell you that you’re skating by with a C
average. Is this test going to be more of the same?”
Sofia’s eyes burned. “Maybe. There was a problem at my job last night. I didn’t get home until after 2:00 a.m. But I’ve been studying all week.”
“You have excellent instincts, my dear. But I’m afraid that’s all they are at the moment. Instincts. If you’re serious about being a family counselor, you have to make your studies a priority.”
With a nod, Sofia slipped her pen into her bag and pushed to her feet. “I’ll have at least a full week off before the final to do nothing but study. I have to pass this class.”
“See that you do,” the professor said. “When I wrote your recommendation letter for Boston College, I told them you were one of the brightest students I’d had the pleasure of teaching in years. But these last few months…I don’t know where that young woman went.”
“Bills,” Sofia whispered as Professor Ott strode away. “She had to pay the bills.”
Unable to hold onto her composure, Sofia turned and fled from the room.
Anger clouded her vision, and as she shoved through the students milling around the campus entrance, she ran right into a trim brick wall.
“Shit.” Sofia tried to pull away, but the wall had arms and steadied her.
Nick’s frosty blue eyes warmed as his lips curved into a smile. “There you are. Given the size of this place, and the fact you didn’t give me your number or your last name, I worried I wouldn’t find you.”
“You showed up.” She couldn’t manage much more. Not with the lump in her throat and the tears of frustration lining her eyes.
“Why wouldn’t I? We had plans, did we not?” Nick held her at arm’s length, and when a single tear tumbled onto her cheek, he reached up and brushed it away. “What’s wrong? You look knackered, love.”
The kind words, along with his tone—one that said he was the sort of man who took care of others—sent her careening to the edge of control. “I…
uh…my test…”
Understanding softened his features. “Are you going home after this?”
The question shocked her enough to answer without thinking. “Yes.”
Nick wrapped an arm around her. “There’s a coffee shop not too far from your apartment that I’m rather fond of. I’ll understand if you’re not up for that snack you mentioned, but may I at least buy you a cup of coffee?”
She didn’t agree so much as not protest as he guided her down the street, but somewhere under the tears and shock, she relished in the feeling of being tended to, even though she barely knew the man. “You don’t have to—”
“I’m afraid I didn’t sleep well last night. I could use the caffeine,” he said
with a chuckle. Around the corner on a side street, headlights on a silver Audi flashed once. Nick held the passenger door open for her, and she sank into the buttery, leather seat.
The car smelled like him, and Sofia let her head fall back against the headrest as she tried to force Professor Ott’s disappointed expression from her memories. “I think I failed the test,” she murmured as he started the car.
“Or I came close. Fuck.”
“Are you sure?”
They pulled out into traffic, the car purring to life so quietly that she felt the engine more than heard it. “Pretty sure. I couldn’t concentrate. My sister got home at 4:00 a.m. She’s not…quiet. The guy she hooked up with—ugh.
They were going at it for two hours.”
“Will that make it difficult for you to pass the class?”
Sofia didn’t want to think about that possibility. If she didn’t pass, she could kiss her Master’s program goodbye. Instead, she closed her eyes and tried not to let her emotions get the better of her.
Despite the mid-morning hour, traffic ground to a halt, and Nick glanced over at her. “We’ve got a bit of a ride. Recline the seat. Close your eyes if you want.”
Sofia raised a brow. “I met you last night. At a BDSM club. You may be famous, but I’m not stupid.”
A rich laugh bellowed through his chest. “No. You’re not. I could be a murderer and simply have enough money to cover my tracks. Though if that were the case, the police wouldn’t have questioned me for so long last night.”
“Point taken.” She ran a hand through her messy curls, wishing she’d had time for at least a little makeup today. “I should text Gina, though.”
“We’re going to a coffee shop called ‘Artist’s Grind.’ It’s on Houston Street. You’ll be home by one at the latest. And give her my phone number.”
Nick rattled off the seven digits, and Sofia sent the text, a little surprised at Nick’s sensitivity.
“You’re not what I expected.” His brows arched and she gave him a small shake of her head. “I mean…I always imagined rich and powerful men just…
did what they wanted. You’re going out of your way to make sure I’m comfortable.”
“If you’d prefer, I could start barking orders at you. But I much prefer a gentler approach. My brother does enough barking for the both of us. Case in point: this morning. I’m afraid he’s still quite upset with me.”
Something in his voice said his morning had gone about as well as hers.
“Over the news stories?”
“My lawyer is trying to get them retracted, but the damage has been done.”
They lapsed into silence for the rest of the drive, Sofia staring out the window as the city crawled by. When he pulled off the freeway, she smiled.
“I love this part of town. All the little shops. I rarely get down here.”
“My brother’s wife discovered this little coffee shop. She’s friends with the owner,” Nick explained. “When I left my job, I started coming here once a week or so. Though I got out of the habit. I’m not sure why.” Again, an odd note laced his tone, and Sofia was surprised that the famous billionaire seemed to be so unsure of himself.
Once they’d parked, Nick opened her door and offered her his arm. His manners left her off balance. She was touched that he was such a gentleman and uncomfortable with being treated so…delicately. Outside of Artist’s Grind, he glanced down at her, hope in his eyes. “Shall we?”
When she nodded, he held the door, and Sofia ducked inside the cozy little shop. A petite brunette behind the counter greeted them with a smile. “I haven’t seen you lately, Nicholas.”
“I’m sorry, Devan. I’ve been”—he shifted on his feet—“trying to keep a low profile.”
Devan nodded, her bright eyes dimming slightly. “I suppose that’s for the best. Who’s your friend?”
“This is Sofia…” Nick frowned. “I’m sorry, my dear, but you never told me your last name.”
“Oliviera.” Sofia’s cheeks heated. What must Devan think of her walking in with a man who didn’t even know her last name? Nick flinched as if he’d just realized his gaffe.
Turning to Devan, he shook off the dark cloud that had settled over him.
“Could I have an Americano? And whatever Sofia would like?”
“Cappuccino?” She wanted to escape, to run away and lose herself in a movie for a few hours, eat a bucket of popcorn, forget about her failed test, her sister leaving town soon, her upcoming shift at Bound where she’d spend the entire night worrying about the attempted kidnapping and whether she would be safe walking to the T after work—everything. But bolting from the coffee shop wouldn’t solve anything, and she did need the caffeine. Plus, something about Nick drew her in, and she wanted to find out more about
him.
“Coming right up,” Devan said as she turned to the coffee grinder.
“Anything to eat?”
Nick cringed. “I should have offered. Devan makes some of the best scones in Boston. What would you like?”
The pastry case overflowed with all sorts of delicious offerings, and Sofia’s stomach rumbled. “Um, the cheddar biscuit?”
Nick laid a twenty on the counter once he’d ordered his scone, led Sofia over to one of the bistro tables, and pulled out a chair for her. “Please, sit.
Coffee will fix…well, not everything, but it will certainly help both of us.”
“Why did you ask me out?” She sniffled, the change in temperature from the brisk, spring morning to the warm coffee shop making her nose run.
Cursing as she dug around in her bag for a tissue and came up empty, her breath hitched when Nick offered her his silk handkerchief.
“It’s clean, I promise you.” He smiled and damn if her insides didn’t tremble for a brief moment. “And I’m buying you a cup of coffee because last night was awful for both of us, you look like you’ve had a shite day, and that…bothers me.”
Sofia took the silk and dabbed at her nose. “You don’t know me.”
