Chapter Nine
Olivia's first thought upon waking the next morning was Nico had never come back. Sitting up, she glanced at the connecting door. It was closed. A grim reminder that Nico was closed to her as well. Her eyes fell on the fresh pile of clothes and tray of food sitting on her dresser. It unnerved her that she'd slept through its arrival. The thought of anyone coming in while she was unaware and vulnerable left an unpleasant twist in her stomach.
She grabbed up the clean clothes and headed to the bathroom, wanting to eat breakfast with her mom. She stepped into a pair of designer jean shorts, noticing they fit her better than the pants from the day before. She picked up the sales tag she'd yanked off and thrown on the bathroom counter, reading they were her exact size. The t-shirt fit better, too. She'd also been happy to see the pile had included a matching bra and panty set. She briefly wonder if that had been Nico's idea then decided it was more important to dwell on why Nico hadn't returned.
Even being as inexperienced as she was, she still knew Nico hadn't reached a "happy ending" the night before, so why hadn't he come back after his phone call? Her mind started spinning worst case scenarios, wondering if she'd done something wrong.
She was a worrier by nature. In fact, her mom was always telling her to stop being such a worrywart. But she couldn't help fear, if she failed to satisfy him, would he kick her mom out? What could she do to make it better for him?
She'd thought she'd known what she was doing. Heck she thought she'd done a good job faking it until Nico called her out. She'd quickly discovered hearing about it and actually doing it were two very different things.
After throwing her hair in a ponytail and brushing her teeth, Olivia found herself standing in the middle of her room unsure of what to do next. She'd never willingly left her room except for the one time she'd tried to escape, and even then, it had been Nico's room she'd escaped from. Was she supposed to knock on the door to get someone's attention? Was the door even still locked?
Only one way to find out. On her way to the door, she grabbed her tray of food and balanced it on one arm—she'd learned a few tricks from her time waitressing. Passing by the connecting door, she had the strangest urge to check whether it was locked, and her hand was already reaching for it before she could caution herself to stop. The knob turned freely, and she was so surprised, she instantly released it, then took a hasty step back. She stared at the doorknob, heart pounding, wondering if Nico was on the other side. She waited for the telltale turning of the knob, announcing his arrival, but after a minute when it never came, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Turning on her heel, she made a beeline for her original objective and this time wasn't surprised when the door opened. She was startled to see Al standing on the other side. He turned his head, looking over his shoulder at her in the open doorway. Olivia took a small step back as he turned to face her. She gestured in front of her. "I, um, want to visit my mother."
"I'm not gonna stop ya. Boss says you have free run of the property." He smirked. "With a guard, of course." She'd never heard him speak before. His voice was a lot deeper than she would've expected, and the slight southern twang threw her, too. Did the Italian mob have connections in the South?
Olivia gave him a small smile, still unsure of him, however friendly he may seem. "And you're to be my guard?"
"Yep," he said, popping the P.
Free run of the property, even with a guard, was better than being cooped up in her room all day.
Giving Al another small smile, she stepped around him and headed for the stairs. She didn't bother to check if he followed. There was no need. She could hear his whistle trailing her.
After a long visit with her mom, Olivia couldn't resist a tour of the house, having only seen a small fraction when she'd snuck through it, trying to find the quickest route out. Many rooms had no doors or open doors that she could pop her head into. She discovered a library and a media room and made a mental note of their locations.
When she stumbled upon the music room, she went inside, knowing it had a sliding door that led to the backyard. She stopped at the piano, taking a quick peek over her shoulder. Yep, Al was still there, standing in the open door. She fiddled with the piano keys, only making a bunch of noise as she'd never learned to play, then turned and headed for the slider.
A blast of heat hit her as soon as she stepped outside, but the warmth felt good, soaking into her air-condition chilled skin. So good, in fact, she stepped out from under the shade of the patio's overhang to feel the full force of the sun beating down on her. She edged closer to the pool and unable to resist, sat at the edge, sticking her feet into the cool water.
Olivia loved to swim. Her mom used to sneak them into various hotel pools during the summer, and she would spend countless hours swimming while her mom worked on her tan. That had all stopped when she was sixteen and Travis Scott had taken over the stable. Many things had changed then. A hard and sometimes cruel taskmaster, his girls weren't allowed free rein during their off time as they'd had with Travis's predecessor. He'd put them on a strict schedule with all their actions accounted for.
Forcing her thoughts away from Travis and his tyrannical ways, Olivia took in the beauty surrounding her. The backyard was stunning with its variety of well-maintained, indigenous plants that wouldn't wither in the hot desert heat.
She was so engrossed in the view, she didn't hear anyone come up behind her until she heard Nico's voice. "Would you like to swim?"
She glanced over her shoulder and up, shielding her eyes with her hand. She hadn't seen him since the night before, and she felt her cheeks heat from more than the rays of the sun. Feeling a little awkward, she focused on keeping her voice casual. "I don't have a suit."
He squatted at her side, and his slacks pulled taut around his thighs. Only in a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled almost to his elbows and the top few buttons at the collar undone with a dark-print tie that dangled loosely at his throat, he looked casually classy.
"A problem easily fixed." He stood, holding out his hand. "Come on. I'll take you shopping."
Olivia hated shopping, considered it a chore. She knew that wasn't a normal girly attitude, but it stemmed from when her mother had taken her shopping as a girl. Every time they'd gone, she would catch her mom staring wistfully at something in a store window. Even at a young age, Olivia had known that look of longing, and when she'd tugged on her mother's sleeve, encouraging her to get it, her mother would give her a smile, shaking her head and telling her she didn't need to spend money frivolously.
As Olivia got older, she'd understood what her mother had really been saying, she only had enough to spend on her. After that realization, Olivia learned to only buy the necessities and never ask for anything more. Old habits were hard to break, and now whenever she needed to buy something, it was bought for a purpose. Pleasure and shopping were two words that had never quite fit together for her.
But she couldn't tell Nico all that. They'd grown up in two different worlds, and he would never understand. Besides the fact, she had a feeling when Nico set his mind to something, it would be hard for anyone to dissuade him. She looked back into the pool, and her feet swaying through the water. "I don't have the proper shoes to go out in."
"Proper?"
"I only have the high heels I arrived in, and they don't really go with this outfit."
His brow furrowed, and he looked angry, but his softly spoken words contradicted his expression. "I'll be right back. Don't move."
Olivia watched him disappear into the house, and she continued to kick her feet in the water until he returned. He wasn't gone long.
He came back holding a pair of flip-flops in one hand and a towel in the other. "These aren't the right size. Your feet are so tiny, Maria couldn't find a pair that would fit you, but they'll do until we can get you something better."
She took the sandals he extended to her, pulling her feet from the water and standing. "Whose are they?"
Nico shrugged. "A pair that were lying around."
Olivia reached for the towel, but he held it out of her reach. Instead, squatting at her feet, he started to dry her legs. She took a hasty step back. "You don't have to do that." She leaned over, trying to take the towel.
His hand clamped around her ankle, and they stared at each other. Her from above, him from below. Even in a subservient position, it was clear he was the one in command. He didn't need to say a word. The look he gave her was enough that she didn't protest further when he resumed drying her legs and feet.
Olivia glanced around self-consciously, but they were alone. Even Al was missing. Nico tossed the towel on the sidewalk and stood while she slipped the shoes on. He was right, they were about two sizes too big, but they'd still look better than walking around in shorts and black pumps.
"Come on." He took her hand and led her back onto the porch, but instead of going through the sliding door that led into the music room, he directed her farther down the porch to a set of French doors she hadn't noticed.
She stepped into an office. His office. She knew right away from the scent—smoky, spicy, and distinctly Nico. She watched him as he went to his computer and shut it down. He unrolled his shirt sleeves and collected a pair of gold cufflinks from a glass dish on the desk.
He caught her staring but she didn't look away, and neither did he as he buttoned his shirt and straightened his tie. His gaze held her transfixed, and she was rooted in place as he came closer. His hand reached up, coming for her, but then disappeared behind her only to come back, holding his suit jacket.
She felt her cheeks grow warm, and she lowered her eyes, his spell finally broken until he captured her chin, forcing her gaze back to his. He still didn't say a word. He didn't need to. His lips did the talking as they captured hers. It wasn't the demanding or forceful kiss she remembered from the night before, but a soft, sweet brush of his lips.
He straightened abruptly, a furrow between his eyes as he stared at her a moment. Olivia didn't have time to analyze his look before Nico captured her hand and gave her his back as he led her out of the office. His long stride ate the distance across the foyer and out the front door to the car and driver waiting for them. She hurried to keep up while trying to keep the too big, borrowed flip-flops on her feet.
So it wasn't until they sat in the silence of the car—Olivia stealing glances of Nico's steely profile while he ignored her, concentrating on his phone—that she wondered what the soft kiss had meant and why he'd been so bothered by it.