Chapter Eleven
Olivia's arms sliced through the water with clean, even strokes. Nico's pool was larger than any hotel's she'd ever swum in and by lap six, she was already growing tired. She tried to tune out the burning sensation in her biceps and added power to her kicks, forcing herself to complete at least one more lap.
She was alone in the pool. She was sure Al was lurking around somewhere, but she couldn't see him so counted her blessings for some pretend privacy. Nico wasn't home, and she didn't know when he would return.
After the incident in the dressing room, she'd quickly gotten dressed, scooped up the bathing suit and dress, and went back out to the main area of the shop. She'd spied Nico talking with Marco, but Teresa had hurried over to her, taking her purchases. She'd also noticed three additional large shopping bags on the counter that Marco had grabbed on their way out the door.
Silence had been her companion on the way back to the house as Nico, again, had his head in his phone. When they'd arrived, after calling one of his men to come out and collect her and her packages, he'd left.
That had been hours ago.
Knowing she wouldn't make it another lap, she reached for the edge and surged, throwing her arms over the lip. While she held herself out of the pool, catching her breath, two black shoes connected to a pair of trousered legs and a white towel appeared in front of her. She tipped her head back, hoping to see Nico. It was Al. He didn't say anything and neither did she as she pulled herself out of the pool, twisting so she was sitting on the edge.
She took the towel and wrapped it around her shoulders, using the corner to scrub at her face. "Thanks."
She heard an almost inaudible, "No problem," and then his receding footsteps as he went back to wherever it was he spied on her from.
Olivia's stomach growled, and she knew it was getting late. She could tell by the low sitting sun, it was well past seven. Her mom would have already eaten, and she felt a twinge of guilt that she'd missed eating with her. She'd make it up to her tomorrow, spend the whole day with her if she wanted. Olivia might even be able to coax her out by the pool to soak up some sun.
She sat, kicking her feet through the water until her stomach, giving another growl, motivated her to stand and go into the house to find some food.
* * * * *
Nico watched Olivia disappear into the house before moving away from the window and taking a seat behind his desk. He had a meeting to attend at one of his nightclubs. He was going to be late, but fuck if watching Olivia gracefully gliding through the water hadn't been worth it.
He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, the last few nights of restless sleep catching up with him. Olivia, bent over, him ramming into her, played behind his closed lids. And although it hadn't been long since he'd had her, he found himself growing hard, wanting to sink inside her again.
He'd fucked up. Not that he hadn't fucked up many times with Olivia, but he'd really fucked up in the dressing room. He'd forgotten to use a condom. And he didn't know if she was on any form of birth control.
He'd blame his lack of common sense on the dress, but it wasn't that. It was Olivia in the dress. Or, really, just Olivia. It seemed he lost the ability to think properly when he was near her. Lost all concentration on anything that wasn't her. And that had never happened to him before. Ever.
His father had taught him at a young age how to turn off all feelings, pay attention to everything, and strike when the time was pivotal. Olivia made his thoughts scatter and aroused feelings in him he'd never had to deal with before. His gut was telling him she was dangerous, but his head was trying to figure out why and wanted just a little more time with her to puzzle it out.
He knew the best way to disconnect his feelings from her was to send her away. He would have to eventually anyway. She wasn't his and never had been. Carmine had gotten to her first.
But a little voice in the back of his head, the voice he'd depended on for so many decisions, whispered, Carmine didn't really get to her. You have her now. She is yours, and could even be now carrying your child. And while leaning back in his seat, eyes closed and seemingly at rest, he felt a rare smile tug at his lips. His brain had won the battle with his gut. He now had a rational and legitimate reason to keep her longer.
Nico sat, lounging back in his chair, a cigarette dangling loosely between his fingers. His ankle rested on his knee, foot bouncing while listening to the bookkeeper drone on and on. Marco gave him an inquiring look which he ignored.
After the Paul Bishop incident, he'd ordered all his businesses' books gone over with a fine tooth-comb and, as far as his bookkeeper could decipher, this club was in the black with all money accounted for. Only time would tell for the rest of his businesses, but so far, everything looked good.
Sitting up, Nico planted his feet on the floor and ground out his cigarette in the ashtray, done with the conversation. The bookkeeper stopped mid-sentence, his eyes looking exceptionally big and wide behind his glasses. He blinked once, then twice as Nico got to his feet. "We're finished here."
The bookkeeper blinked again. "Um... Yeah, okay."
Nico and Marco stepped out of the office and Frankie appeared at his other side. "Are we sticking around for a drink, Boss? Check out the action?"
Olivia's face flashed in his mind, and Nico found himself just wanting to go home. No, needing to. And for that reason alone, he found himself saying, "Yeah, we can stay awhile."
They made their way to the upper section of the club and sat in a corner booth. A waitress scurried over and took their drink order. Silence descended on the table. Marco was doing something with his phone, and Frankie's eyes were roaming, checking out the scene, his eyes lingering on a tall blonde with all her curves pronounced under a skintight dress. Nico had a feeling Frankie wouldn't be with them long. And sure enough, as soon as the waitress arrived with their drinks, Frankie stood, approached the blonde, and had the deal sealed in a matter of minutes, disappearing with her down the stairs.
A few minutes later, three women approached their table. All were decked out in club-wear with their hair teased and makeup artfully applied. Nothing eye-catching, at least nothing that caught Nico's eye. He sat silently as the one on the end chatted nonstop, introducing her and her friends and asking if they could join them.
Nico swung his gaze to Marco, silently asking whether he was interested. When Marco gave him a barely discernible shake of his head, Nico turned his attention back to the women. "Sorry, ladies, but we're in a meeting. Maybe some other time."
The one on the end—the talker—was bolder than her two counterparts, stepping closer to Nico and bending forward to give him a better view of her cleavage. She whispered so only he could hear, "If you give me your phone, I can give you my number." She placed a light hand on his arm. "I'll be around for a while. Maybe when you're done with your meeting..." She let her sentence trail off as her fingers skimmed up and over his shoulder.
Nico grabbed her wrist, halting her progress. He saw her wince and relaxed his grip but didn't relax his tone. "No."
The woman winced again, this time not from pain but from humiliation. Nico knew he was an asshole. Knew that for a fact because he didn't care about the woman's hurt feelings.
She twisted her wrist out of his loosened hold and took a large step back, saying something to her friends before they turned and walked away.
Nico felt eyes on him and turned to find Marco watching him. Nico raised an eyebrow, taunting him to say something.
Marco took him up on it. "We've known each other a long time."
They had. More than ten years, in fact. Nico just didn't know where Marco was going with that. He didn't say anything but did acknowledge the statement with a nod. Another minute passed, and when Marco still didn't say anything, Nico drawled, "Just spit it out already. The suspense is killing me."
Marco gestured to the trio of women who had found new prey to latch onto. "You're not usually so blunt. I'm... concerned."
Nico waited for another beat, then growing impatient, snapped, "About?"
"You haven't been acting like yourself these last few days." He sighed, seeming to struggle with what he wanted to say.
They were friends and, as he'd said, had been so for a long time, but Marco still knew there were lines that shouldn't be crossed. Nico waited, wondering if he were about to cross one now.
Finally, Marco asked, "The girl. What're your plans for her?"
Nico scowled, not liking Marco inquiring about Olivia. "Why the concern?" If anyone wasn't acting like himself, it was Marco.
Marco shrugged and raising his glass to his lips, tossed back the last of his drink before carefully placing his glass back down on the table. "She just seems different from what you're used to. I don't know, naive I guess, even considering where we found her."
"A whorehouse, you mean?" Nico knew what Marco had said was correct, knew Olivia was innocent, but wanted to plant a seed of doubt in his brain. He didn't like the attention Marco had obviously been paying to Olivia. He'd call it jealousy, but Nico didn't get jealous.
Marco's eyes grew wide but then his shoulders slumped as he nodded. "Yeah."
Nico eyed him. "Do I need to be concerned? About you, I mean?"
Marco scrutinized him before slowly shaking his head. "No. That's not what I meant." He looked down at his empty glass. "She's just different and Carmine's..."
The light bulb clicked. Carmine could be a sick bastard and any innocence Olivia had left would be wiped away pretty damn fast under Carmine's control. Nico downed his own drink then stood from the table. Marco knew that was the cue to leave and stood, as well.
He heard Marco at his back. "You seem different around her, too."
Nico didn't stop in his progress from the club, didn't pause to look over his shoulder at Marco, nor did he reply to his comment. He didn't have a response he wanted to share. Nico knew he was slightly obsessed with Olivia, but it wouldn't last. And when it faded, he'd return to his old self and Marco could stop worrying.
Olivia was asleep when Nico entered her room. It was late, so he'd known she would be. He hesitated, but only for a minute, before stripping off his sweats and joining her in the bed. She rolled to him in her sleep, snuggling herself against his chest, and he felt more than just his dick spring to life—he felt an emotion he wasn't used to feeling. Tenderness.
He squashed the unwanted emotion deep down to a place where it wouldn't affect him then got busy. His hands roamed everywhere. Up her legs, over her hips, across her back, until he captured her tits, and she arched into his hold. Olivia moaned his name, and his heart rate picked up speed from the sound, so he covered her lips with his own, silencing her, but he still heard it echoing through his head.
Nico planted himself deep inside her and felt himself relax for the first time in hours, all his tension seeming to melt away. Her eyes were open but hooded as she looked up at him, her gaze warm and soft and so fucking sweet. He captured her face in his hands. "Look at me." When he had her eyes, he said, "Don't turn this into something more than it is."
But he wasn't sure if he was warning her, or himself.