Chapter Seven
The first thing Nick did the next morning was return the Porsche to Charles’s rental service. He then rented a different Porsche for himself, black as night and on his own dime, thank you very much. He’d found out there were long stretches of parkway on Long Island, and he had a feeling he’d need to go on plenty of long rides over the next two weeks. Why not have a sweet ride to tool around in?
He did take a long scenic drive with the new car, trying to clear his head. For over an hour, he sped along the quiet Northern State Parkway, all the way to the end, somewhere in the next county, and then back again. He needed the movement, the sense of escape. He never turned on any music, which wasn’t like him. But he was trying to process all the events of the night before. They had him in a tailspin.
His four half siblings were interesting, that was for sure. Each so different, but with threads of commonality he recognized right away. Pride. Intelligence. Stubbornness. Generosity. Dry humor. Intense loyalty.
He even saw flickers of things he recognized in himself. A real argument for nature versus nurture.
Not that he’d admit it to anyone out loud.
His mother had sent a text, as she had every morning since he’d stormed out of their house. His father was laying off, knowing when Nick was stewing over something, he needed time and space to cool down. His mom was too worried to do that. Nick knew that, and while he felt bad for shutting her out, he was still processing her betrayal. She should’ve told him much sooner.
You should have told me. Charles hadn’t just looked furious when he’d growled that at Nick, but . . . hurt, too. Nick knew the feeling all too well. There were no winners here. Well, maybe—hopefully—one winner. Myles. That kid was what mattered the most in this mess of a situation. By the end of the drive, Nick was determined to focus on him. His siblings knew the truth now. He had no desire to go anywhere near his biological father from everything he’d heard. All Nick cared about, from here on in, was doing his part to help Myles get well.
And, surprisingly, Amanda had gotten into his head. His dreams had been a jumble of restless chaos, but the one about finding her in the shower of his hotel room was as clear as if he’d watched it on a TV show, even now, hours later. He’d woken up rock hard, feeling edgy. Only a few minutes in her presence, and she’d burrowed into his subconscious enough for a steamy cameo in his dreams. He wanted to see her again, find out more about her. At least that much was straightforward.
When he got back to the hotel, he went to the gym and had a short workout, then went to his room to shower. By the time he looked at his phone again, there were several texts and missed calls. Texts from his mom, Darin checking in, and a hello from his sister Erica—that one he answered. He adored his sisters. Erica was now twenty-two and Olivia was about to turn twenty. They weren’t babies anymore. But they’d always be his baby sisters, and God help the men who looked their way. Even though he wasn’t talking to his parents yet, he’d never shut out his sisters, so he texted her a quick hi to say he was fine and they’d chat soon. Darin, he could answer that in a bit.
The text from Charles made him laugh out loud. You didn’t have to return the car.
Nick guessed the rental place had contacted him. Let him stew. The hell with him.
One voice mail, from a local number he didn’t recognize. He listened.
“Hi, Nick. This is Lisette Harrison. Charles gave me your number, I hope that’s okay. I’m only calling because Myles said you’d mentioned you’d be back to play video games with him. He thinks you’re coming over sometime today. Would you just let me know if you are or not, so I can tell him? I’d appreciate it. Thank you.”
Ah, shit. Nick sighed, his mind working as he got dressed. He didn’t want to set foot in that house again, but he didn’t want to let Myles down a thousand times more. And it wasn’t like he had any plans for the evening. When he finished getting ready, he returned Lisette’s call.
“I can’t talk long,” he said, trying to be polite. He wasn’t mad at Lisette; there was no reason to be curt with her. “I have my appointment at the hospital in less than an hour and want to get going.”
“I appreciate your getting back to me at all,” Lisette said. “You’re not obligated to entertain Myles. You’re not obligated to do anything.”
It almost made him wince, the way Lisette was walking on eggshells around him out of gratitude and a hint of desperation. “Well, I did tell him I’d hang out with him if he wanted, and if it was okay with his parents. I should’ve checked with you before saying something like that. I apologize.”
“No, don’t apologize! It’s fine with me!”
“And your husband?”
Lisette paused. “Myles being happy is what matters most right now.”
“I’d never do anything to hurt your son,” Nick promised. “I hope you know that. I know I must be public enemy number one over there right now, but—”
“You’re not,” she said. “Please don’t think that. Besides . . . I’m here. Amanda’s here. Charles can’t complain. There’s nothing to worry about.”
The mention of Amanda gave Nick a little lift. Seeing her again would be a fantastic bonus. “I have no idea how long my appointment at the hospital will take,” he said. “Why don’t I give you a call whenever it’s done? Maybe I’ll come by tonight, after dinner. Just for an hour or so, whatever he’s up to. Is that good for you?”
“Whatever works for you is fine,” Lisette said. “Myles will be thrilled. He likes you, you know.”
Nick drew a breath as he made sure he had everything: wallet, keys, sunglasses against the glary gray sky. “Does he know? Did Charles tell him?”
“Not yet,” Lisette said. “He, um . . . he’s not going to tell Myles you’re his uncle until he’s one hundred percent sure that you are. Surely you can understand that.”
“I do,” Nick said, but something hot seared through him anyway. Charles still didn’t want to believe him. “He wants further testing, I assume?”
“You’d have to discuss that with him.”
“Of course. Sorry.”
“No, I . . . it’s a . . . well, it’s an incredible thing, isn’t it? All of it.”
“Yup.” Nick shoved his wallet in his jeans. “I have to go. I’ll call you when I’m done.”
“Good luck,” she said. “I hope it goes well.”
“Me too.”
* * *
By the time Nick got to the mansion, it was seven o’clock. He so did not want to be there. But at least there wouldn’t be seventeen Harrisons on the other side of the door tonight, only six, four of whom were kids. He rang the bell, ignoring the tight feeling in his stomach.
It was a girl who answered. A teenager with long, sleek dark hair and bright blue eyes that swept over him in an open assessment.
“Hi,” Nick said. “I’m here to see Myles.”
“I know who you are,” she said. “I was in the dining room last night. I’m Ava. Apparently, I’m your niece.”
Nick’s mouth went dry. Charles’s oldest child was a beauty, and he could tell just from her shrewd gaze she was smart and strong like her dad. “You overheard, huh?”
“Hard not to. After you left, they were all flipping out. They talked about it for a long time. You got my dad all fired up.” She moved aside. “Come on in.”
He stepped into the foyer and removed his jacket. “I should leave this down here, right? I was at the hospital all afternoon, then went and got some dinner. . . . I don’t know the rules.”
“It’s nice of you to think of that. Yes to the jacket. Leave your shoes here too.” Ava pointed to the corner, but kept staring at him. “You’re really my uncle?”
“I think so,” Nick hedged, remembering Lisette’s words. Charles didn’t want to tell his kids yet—that wasn’t Nick’s call to make. He wasn’t going to cause more trouble.
“What do you mean, ‘you think so’?” Ava demanded. “Either you are or you aren’t. Right?”
“Ava.” Charles’s voice rang out sharply. He appeared from the hallway. His eyes flickered briefly to Nick before going back to his daughter. “Mind your business.”
“If he’s my uncle, isn’t that kind of my business?” she said.
Nick stood in silence. He wasn’t touching this.
Charles sighed as he met his daughter’s demanding gaze. “We have to run a test to make sure.”
“Were you going to run that by me?” Nick asked. “Just curious.”
Charles arched a brow. “If you’re opposed, maybe there’s a reason for that?”
Nick swallowed back the reply he wanted to let fly, minding the girl. He grinned instead. “Nothing to hide. You want me to take a test, that’s fine. But you could’ve, oh, I don’t know . . . asked. Some people would call that courtesy.”
Charles pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose as his eyes met Nick’s. “Consider this my asking, then.”
“I don’t know why you don’t just believe him,” Ava said. “I went and looked at those old pictures last night. Aunt Tess was right—he does look just like Grandpa when he was young. If Grandpa was Puerto Rican, that is.”
“Ava.” The word flew out of Charles like a shot.
Nick laughed. He looked kindly at her and said, “Don’t sweat it. I am—you’re right. Well, actually, I’m half. But obviously I have my mother’s coloring.”
“I don’t care about ‘half’ anything,” Ava declared. “Charlotte is my half sister, and I don’t think of her that way. She’s just my little sister. Blood is blood. So if you’re my uncle, you’re not my half uncle. That’s stupid.”
Nick nodded slowly, taking in this fiery girl. “I have two younger half sisters, and I think of them exactly the same way. I like you, kid.”
She grinned.
“Ava,” Charles said. “I’m here to take Nick up to see your brother. Did you finish all your homework?”
“About three hours ago,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Good. Why don’t you go do your thing for now, all right?”
“Trying to get rid of me, Dad? So subtle.” She looked back up at Nick and said, “It was nice to meet you. And . . . thank you for being here. To help Myles. It means a lot. Like, a lot.”
“Nice to meet you too, Ava,” Nick said. As soon as she walked away, Nick said to Charles, “She gives you a run for it, huh?”
“You have no idea.” Charles rubbed the back of his neck in mild frustration before looking him over. “How’d it go at the hospital today?”
“Okay, I guess.” Nick gave Charles a brief overview: he’d given blood, found out he would be further tested for signs of infectious disease, and answered extensive questions about his health history. “The truth is . . . I have no idea how to answer all of it. Because I don’t know any history on my father’s side. I told them that. That they should contact you. So, if you could provide them with those answers, that’d be helpful.”
“Are you willing to come by tomorrow afternoon?” Charles asked with a cool stare. “I’ll have someone come here. We’ll get the testing done right away.”
“If you want. But not for nothing, I already had the inside of my cheek swabbed when I signed up to be a bone marrow donor. That’s why I’m here at all,” Nick pointed out. “Remember?”
Charles’s mouth opened, then closed. Then he said, “Okay. That’s true.”
“So my end’s done. The hospital has all my medical info on file. I’ll give them permission to release it to you. It’s on you to get your pops swabbed. Not my problem.”
“No? You’re a cop. I’d think having hard evidence would be paramount to someone like you. I’d think you’d be just as invested in finding out the truth as I am.”
Nick wanted to snarl at him. But he reined it in. “In this case, you’re the one chomping at the bit for overnight proof. You’re a powerful man. Get it done.”
Charles’s face darkened. “Fine. I will. But if I need a fresh swab from you?”
“I’ll do it.” Nick felt his blood pulsing now, his annoyance turning red hot. He wanted to know the truth without a doubt too, but he wasn’t going to let this man push him around. It made him want to push back. “So. Did you even tell dear old Dad yet?”
“No.” Charles’s square jaw, so like his own, set tightly. “Let’s get the test done first. One step at a time.”
Nick snorted. “Whatever.”
“It’s interesting to me—you don’t seem to be in a hurry to tell him the big news,” Charles noted. “Or to talk to him at all.”
“He sounds like a first-class prick,” Nick said. “Why would I?”
Charles blinked, obviously taken aback. “Because you say he’s your father.”
“No, he’s not,” Nick said. “He’s yours. Lew Martell is my father. Charles Harrison the second was my sperm donor. Who, it seems, used my mother and made her scared enough of his power to leave the state and hide my existence from him. Not exactly looking to have a family reunion with him, you know?”
Charles rubbed his chin, then his jaw, seeming to contemplate what Nick had said. “My father will find out, of course. You know that.”
Nick shrugged.
“You have no interest in meeting him?” Charles asked. “None at all? You’re not even a little curious?”
Nick ran his hands through his hair and looked around. They were alone, but he dropped his voice low anyway, knowing others were in the house. “Your father, from most accounts, is a real bastard. I don’t need or want him in my life. Do I want to set eyes on him at least once? Sure. Out of mere curiosity. But that’s about it. I’m not looking to hug it out or anything. I’m not looking for anything at all.”
Charles just stared at him, incredulous.
Nick shook his head and headed to the stairs. “I’m going up now. Your son’s waiting for me. I won’t stay too long—don’t worry.”
“I don’t mind,” Charles said as he walked past him. “Stay as long as he wants you to. It was good of you to come here.”
“I didn’t do it for you.”
“You didn’t have to take the car back, you know,” Charles said to his back.
At that, Nick stopped halfway up the staircase to slide a look over his shoulder. “Yeah, actually, I sure as hell did.”
Charles snorted, and the corner of his mouth twitched. “You’re stubborn, proud, and fierce, aren’t you?” he said. “With a temper usually set to a low simmer. Probably lethal when it breaks loose, right?”
“Try me and find out,” Nick said calmly. It wasn’t a threat, merely a statement.
But Charles’s mouth curved more, into a full-out wry grin. “I don’t know about your mother’s family, but I have to tell you . . . those are all Harrison traits. Like, Being a Harrison 101. The more I watch you, the more I listen to you, the more I see it. It’s fascinating, actually. You ever hear of nature versus nurture?”
Yeah, he had. “I thought you didn’t believe me.”
“I never said I didn’t. I just want unequivocal proof,” Charles said. “For the record? I do think you’re a Harrison. Like you’ve pointed out, you came up as the match, and damned if you don’t look like our father. But I don’t like that you lied to me. Right to my face. That’s what makes me not trust you.”
“I didn’t lie, actually. I just didn’t tell you the whole truth right away. But you know what? I already explained why I did that. If you refuse to understand, that’s your problem,” Nick said. “Besides, you don’t have to trust me. I’m just here to donate, do this thing, and then I’ll go back to my life and you’ll all go back to yours. Done deal.”
Charles smirked and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Really?” He studied him shrewdly. “You’re going to spend a few weeks here—could be more, who knows—with your newfound siblings, nephews, nieces . . . get to know everyone . . . going to go through some possibly tough stuff, medically . . . and then you’re going to just go back to your old life, like none of this happened? Like we all don’t exist? Okay.” He shrugged, his brows rising. “It’s stone cold, but hey—so’s your biological father. Maybe you have more in common than we know.”
Nick shot him a withering look. “You’re the one who made it clear you don’t trust me, big brother. Right now, that goes both ways.”
* * *
Amanda answered the soft knock on Myles’s door. She opened it to see Nick Martell standing there, and her breath hitched. God, he was so gorgeous. Not just good-looking, but hot. Sexy as hell. Something about him hinted of sin. From the first minute she’d laid eyes on him, she’d felt a buzz in her blood just thinking about him.
She’d hoped she would see him again soon, known she probably would because of Myles . . . but when Lisette had mentioned he would be coming by tonight, Amanda had felt a surge of excitement that was almost irrational. She’d met him once, for Pete’s sake, and spent about twenty minutes in his presence. Now, one look at him and the urge to lick his skin was overwhelming. God. This wildly physical reaction to him was insane.
“Hi.” Their eyes met and she felt a bucket of butterflies unload in her stomach. Yup, it happened again. Pure chemistry. She wondered if maybe he felt it too, even a lick of it.
“Hey.” He smiled down at her. He was easily at least six inches taller. “Nice to see you.”
“Come on in. He fell asleep an hour ago,” Amanda said, moving to let him inside. “But he might wake up soon. He naps a lot.”
“Poor kid,” Nick mumbled, his eyes lingering on Myles before moving back to her. “Should I come back another time?”
“No, stay. Really, he’ll probably be up soon. His naps are usually about an hour, and he wakes up on his own.”
“Okay . . .” Nick closed the door behind him. “Guess it’s just you and me for a bit, then. Hope you don’t mind.”
Her heart actually fluttered. “Not at all.” She went to grab a surgical mask from the box and the hand sanitizer, trying not to feel so breathless from the thought of being alone with him, the appeal of his deep voice, or the way his warm brown eyes seemed to drink her in.
He stood still by the door, staring at Myles as he slept. She let her eyes run over him, quickly taking in every sexy inch. His inky black hair was cropped very short in back and on the sides, just a little longer on top.... Her fingers itched to play in it. Warm brown eyes and long, dark eyelashes—why did men always get the gorgeous long lashes? she wondered. Not fair. Straight, narrow nose and a strong, square jaw, with full lips just made for kissing . . . she felt a burn zip through her at the thought of what he could likely do with that sensual mouth. And that body, good Lord. He was so clearly muscled; the long-sleeved navy T-shirt he wore was tight over the bulges in his biceps, taut across his broad chest and shoulders, defining all his hard angles. His jeans hung on narrow hips, over long legs and what appeared to be a perfect ass. . . .
She cleared her throat. She had to keep talking, or she’d likely just ogle this tall slice of walking testosterone until she embarrassed herself. “Myles was really looking forward to hanging out with you.”
“Was he?” Nick asked. “That’s . . . well, I was going to say that’s cool, but maybe it isn’t. I don’t know.”
“Why not?” Amanda asked as she came at him with the hand sanitizer.
He held out his palms to her. “You’re a nurse. You tell me.”
She frowned as she squirted the gel. “Not getting you.”
“He shouldn’t be getting attached to me, or me to him,” Nick said, rubbing his hands together. “Right?”
“Ah. Well. Easier said than done.” She watched as he adjusted the mask over his nose and mouth. Pity to cover those gorgeously pouty lips. “Truth? I’m attached as hell. I adore him. So you’re talking to someone who’s already broken a cardinal rule.”
“How long have you been with him?”
“Fourteen months.”
Nick whistled low. “How can you not get invested? C’mon. You’d have to have no heart.” His dark eyes flickered to Myles, empathy clear in his troubled gaze. “I can’t even imagine what he’s already been through . . .”
“You don’t want to know,” she murmured. “But he’s so brave. Such a fighter. With such a wonderful spirit and a heart of gold.”
“Tell me about him.” Nick’s eyes held hers. “Tell me what he’s like.”
They sat in the two cushioned chairs by the window and talked quietly for a while. Nick asked many questions about Myles, and she answered the ones about his illness and his treatments as best she could. Some of the ones about his personality, and what he liked to do, fine. But when she gently suggested maybe he should be asking the family the more personal things instead of her, he clammed up. After a minute, he tentatively explained that he couldn’t right now because they didn’t trust him.
Amanda frowned at him. “Um . . . why not? If you don’t mind my asking. That’s just a strange thing to say, that they don’t trust you. They don’t know you yet.”
“Well . . .” He scrubbed a hand over his hair and sighed. “Turns out I’m a match for Myles because I’m his uncle. I’m a Harrison by blood. I didn’t know myself until a few days ago, and I had to tell them last night. They didn’t take it very well.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“And to top it all off,” Nick said, “Charles thinks I might be lying and saying this to blackmail the family for hush money. Which is offensive as hell, I don’t mind telling you. So . . . yeah. That’s the story, unreal as it is.”
She gaped at him, looking him over as if with new eyes. “You . . . you’re really . . . ?”
With a weary nod, he quickly recounted the tale his mother had told him last week.
Amanda was dumbfounded. She just sat there for a minute, staring as her mind processed Nick’s words. It sounded like something off a reality TV show, not something that happened to actual normal people. Not that the Harrisons were normal, exactly. “They must have flipped out,” she finally breathed, trying to imagine stoic, proper Charles Harrison III finding out this guy was his long-lost half brother.
“You could say that.” Nick half-grinned, but it was a rueful grin, no joy there.
“Holy crap.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to . . . I mean, it’s just—”
“I know. You’re fine.”
“This is a lot to take in.” She peered closely at him. “Are you okay?”
His eyes rounded as they fixed on her. She watched his throat work as he swallowed. His voice was soft and low when he spoke. “You know . . . you’re the first person to ask me that. Thank you.”
A wave of feeling flooded her, something like warmth. Empathy, she figured. But it was warm and insistent, the natural caregiver in her rising to the surface without conscious thought. That was her, trying to care for everyone, always. It wasn’t even an impulse; it was how she was wired, something deep in her DNA.
Before she could say anything more, Nick leaned in, elbows on his knees. “Amanda . . . right now, when I want to ask about Myles, it’s just easier to talk to you. You’re, like, the only objective person I’ve met here so far. You’re not part of the family. You’re not looking at me thinking I want something sinister. Like I’m the enemy.” Something flashed in his dark eyes, and her heart panged again like it had a minute before.
He was tall and strong, self-assured, bright, and dripping masculinity. But over the mask, stark white against the warm gold of his skin, she saw something in his eyes that struck her as . . . vulnerable. What a situation he’d been tossed into. She felt for him.
He seemed like a good man. Hell, he’d come all this way to help Myles, and she knew very well plenty of people tapped to be bone marrow donors were scared of the physical risks and said no. But he’d come, and was obviously willing, and now to be set against a whole family of powerful people skeptical over his motives . . . it was probably daunting as hell, even for someone as sturdy as he clearly was. Another pang of sympathy fluttered through her. She wanted to take his hand, but squelched that impulse. She barely knew him. But . . .
“Look . . . um . . .” She licked her dry lips. Was she about to overstep her bounds? Possibly. But the look on his face . . . she trusted him, even if the Harrisons didn’t. She couldn’t explain why. Her intuition told her she could. “If you’re going to come hang out with Nick sometimes, I’m probably going to be here when you do, because I’m here with him every day. So . . . of course I work for the Harrisons, but you can . . . think of me as neutral territory. I want you to be comfortable around Myles. And me. Okay?”
His thick, dark brows furrowed as his eyes narrowed to study her. “Really?”
“Yeah. So don’t worry about any of that drama when you’re here with Myles and me.” She gave a small grin as she added, “I’m Switzerland.”
He chuckled, his eyes crinkling. “Aha. So . . . Swiss Miss, that’s you. Got it.”
She laughed too. “I don’t know about that nickname, but yeah.”
His eyes warmed as they held hers. “That’s very kind of you. Thanks.”
“Sure. I just . . .” She blew out a breath. “Wow, that’s some story.”
“It sure is. And I don’t even know the half of it. I need to talk to my mother more . . .” He looked away, apparently caught up in thought. Then those warm, dark eyes sought hers again. “You know what? Maybe we should nix the Swiss Miss thing. I don’t want you to get in trouble for talking to me.”
“Why would I? That’s ridiculous.” She shook her head. “They’re really good people, Charles and Lisette. I don’t know the others as well, but they’ve all come to visit Myles enough times that I know they’re good people too. This is a big, loving family. They’ve banded around Myles like few families I’ve seen, and it’s got nothing to do with their wealth. They all look out for each other. They care.”
“And I’m an outsider storming the castle,” he murmured.
She didn’t know what to say to that. For her to speculate wasn’t only pointless, it wasn’t her place. So she said, “Well, when you’re in here, just playing video games with the kiddo? There’ll be no storming going on. Just . . . kindness. Right?”
The way he looked at her seemed to swallow her up. She almost felt a bit woozy from the intensity of his gaze. But he said, “Right. That’s all I’m trying to do. Thank you for trusting me on that.”
“Well, with what I know now, if Myles is your nephew . . . it makes sense you’d want to get to know him, beyond the basics of a donor meeting the patient. And I think it’s really sweet. For whatever it’s worth.”
“It’s worth something.”
They stared into each other’s eyes, a tangible pull between them. Something buzzed through her, a new searing shot of fizzy heat. She wanted to tear that mask off his face and look at him fully. It was a crime for a face that handsome to be half hidden, and she felt denied. She wanted to climb into his lap. Her attraction was undeniable, some crazy chemistry at work . . .
“Amanda?” Myles mumbled weakly from the bed.
She shot to her feet and went right to him. “Hey, sleepyhead. How’re you feeling?”
“Thirsty,” he rasped.
“Hang on.” She went to the small table along the wall, which was set up with all her needs. The box of surgical masks, the bottle of hand sanitizer, the plastic container of wet wipes, latex gloves and sucking candies and bottles of pills and . . . she grabbed an unopened bottle of red Gatorade, poured some into a plastic cup, and brought it to him. She helped him to sit up more comfortably. The two armchairs by the window were a bit recessed, not in line of vision with the bed. So she told him, “Someone’s here to see you, mister.”
Myles’s eyes flew wide. “He came back?” His head craned around her to look toward the chairs.
“Hey, buddy.” Nick was there, standing behind Amanda. She could feel his presence behind her, it was so strong.
“Hey, Nick!” Myles chugged down the rest of the drink. “Ready to play?”
“Absolutely, man. What are we playing?”
“Plants versus Zombies GW2,” Myles said with a big smile.
“I . . . have no idea what that is,” Nick admitted with a laugh. “You’ll have to show me how to play. And I’d say be patient while I learn, but I bet you’ll have fun kicking my butt, so it’s cool.”
Myles smiled brightly.
“Tell you what,” Amanda said. “I’ll set it up for you so you can get started, but first . . .” She handed Myles a stick of lip balm from his nightstand, which he put on his cracked lips dutifully. “Are you hungry?”
“Not really.”
“You need to eat something to keep your strength up,” she said.
Myles shrugged.
“We could order a pizza,” Nick suggested. “My treat.”
Amanda opened her mouth to say something, but Myles said, “I could eat a slice. If you want.”
“I want,” Nick said. He’d eaten in the hospital cafeteria, wanting to get his blood sugar back up after giving several vials of blood. But he could always eat. He looked to Amanda. “How do we do that here?”
“I’ll take care of it,” she said with a smile.
Nick watched Amanda give Myles a quick check—she felt his forehead before letting him put his Yankees cap back on, poured him another small cup of Gatorade and brought it to him, fluffed the pillows behind him and even quickly ruffled his dark hair. She was so good with him. It just made him like her more. He knew an efficient nurse when he saw one, and she clearly was, but it was more than that. She really cared about this kid. Her heart and soul were in it, and it showed.
And while Nick knew how dangerous it was to let your heart and soul get involved in work where lives were on the line . . . he figured it was different for her. As a cop, he couldn’t afford to get personally invested in the people he helped. Things happened fast on the street; he had to think, move, not feel. And with the system being how it was, and people being how they were . . . if he let himself care too much, it’d tear him to shreds.
But she was with this kid day in and day out, and had been for over a year. He’d watched her face when she’d told him about what Myles had gone through during treatment—two rounds each of chemo and radiation that hadn’t worked—and how he’d rarely complained, just tried to keep positive. About how they played video games and board games and colored in adult coloring books together . . . She was more than his day nurse; she was his champion. Nick wondered if the Harrison family knew what a rare gem they’d found in this woman. And he didn’t want to think of what it’d do to her if Myles didn’t make it. He didn’t want to think about that at all, actually.
He watched her as discreetly as possible throughout the evening, trying not to stare with open admiration. She’d nursed this boy through medical nightmares, and would continue to for as long as she was needed. She’d opened herself to Nick, and believed his story without even knowing him. She wanted him to feel comfortable there and had made it clear she was a safe space. That had made something heavy swirl in his chest, heavy but sweet at the same time.
Amanda Kozlov was genuine. Clearly capable, strong, and compassionate. Anyone who spoke to her for more than a few minutes could see all that. But add to that the way he burned for her when he looked at her for more than a few seconds? The way his blood had raced south when she’d innocently licked her lips? The way his heart pulsed when she sighed and her breasts rose and fell, tantalizing him? Goddamn, he wanted her.
Sweet Jesus, she was beautiful. Her honey-blond hair that fell past her shoulders looked soft, and he wanted to wrap it around his fingers to pull her closer. Her pale, creamy skin; her deliciously pink mouth; her enticing figure, hidden but visible beneath her shapeless uniform . . . all of it called to him. The curve of her ass alone made his body tingle and want. Her scrubs today were teal with white swirls, and the color set off her gorgeous sky-blue eyes.
But it was more than that. Talking to her had confirmed his initial assessment: she was smart, savvy, with a heady mixture of sweet and sexy that intrigued him. He just . . . really liked her. He liked the whole package.
He’d pulled his armchair to sit beside Myles’s bed. They laughed and talked as the kid taught him the game. But every few minutes, he couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Amanda. She sat in the chair still by the window, reading on her tablet. Nick knew why her brows were puckered as she read; it was the material she was absorbing. She’d told him how Myles would be “conditioned” for the bone marrow transplant, flooded with chemo and radiation, and she wanted to read more about what was ahead. He admired her dedication, her need to be as informed as possible, her desire to be prepared. He was the same way.
He was there to get to know his nephew. That was now his number-two reason for being in New York, behind donating and hopefully helping him get well. But yeah . . . getting to know Amanda too was a new and exhilarating prospect. She’d hit him like a tidal wave, knocking him on his ass. It was the last thing in the world he’d expected to find when he’d come to New York . . . but he couldn’t deny it. He was drawn to her, and considering all the chaos and uncertainty swirling through his life right now, it was the one pleasant thing he could grab on to.
She flashed him a quick smile and it made his insides heat in response. Crushing hard on Myles’s nurse wasn’t the worst sin he could commit, right?