Brant’s hand shot out so fast he nearly fell off the table. “What the hell?”
Nikki didn’t say anything at first.
Instead, she slammed her hands against both of his cheeks and very slowly ran her thumbs down his face until they came into contact with his bottom lip and froze. “B-Brant?”
He couldn’t find his voice. Shaking, he very slowly grabbed her hands and pulled them away from his face.
“Are you really deaf?” she asked out loud. “Cole said your wife—”
That did it. He burst out laughing. “My wife?”
“Oh.” Her voice sounded broken—sad.
“‘Oh,’ what?”
“I just—Cole said you were deaf.”
“Interesting, since he told me you were mute.”
She glared at him. “No, just blind.”
How was she standing there? After what the hell just happened? After the kissing? Touching?
The accident.
His body jerked.
Fuck.
The last time they saw each other there were so many tears, the yelling, the pain of his heart being ripped in two.
“No wife,” he said harshly. “Just a steady stream of willing women.”
Pain flashed across her face before she gulped and stared down at her hands. “If you lie down, I can finish your massage.”
“No.” The word was clipped, angry. “Did you know about this? About me coming here?” He needed something to blame, someone to take the blame so it wouldn’t be on his shoulders, so he could deal with the violent hurricane of emotions stirring in him.
“What?” She took a cautious step back. “How would I know? Are you so arrogant that you think I spend every free minute I have stalking you?” Her eyes were guilty. “Besides, it’s because of you that I’m still here. I haven’t eaten since one and—”
“—you could have said no.”
“It’s extra money.”
“Funny, I seem to remember sending you money only to have it sent back.” Besides, it wasn’t like she didn’t get a shit-ton of his money after the divorce. She could own the hotel if she wanted to.
“Look.” Her hands started to shake as she wrung them together. “If you just lie down I can finish the rest of the massage.”
“Fine,” Brant snapped. He tried to focus on the anger, the hurt, the betrayal, but it was like his brain had shut down the minute her hands touched him.
Story of his life.
“What are you doing here?” She moved her hands down his left arm, pausing only slightly when she got to his ring finger; was it his imagination or was she shaking? “Weekend vacation?”
“I’m your new boss.”
She dropped his hand onto the table.
He leaned up on his elbow and drank in the sight of her stunned expression. “Just how many times did you cup my ass? Twice? Three times? And that kiss…I may have to write you up again.”
Again.
Her eyes widened. “You were the one that wrote me up? Yesterday? You do realize I can’t see dust, right?”
Outwardly he did nothing; on the inside, his chest pinched, just enough to remind himself that his heart was there and it still hurt whenever he was reminded about her blindness—and his part in causing it.
Fuck, at least now he knew why Nadine was so cheerfully ready to give him a job. He’d sent back the auction bid money. So she’d sent in the next best thing.
Him.
Son of a bitch!
Nikki snapped her mouth shut and glared at the table, her cheeks tinged a deep red. “I’m sure it’s escaped your notice, since most important things typically do—but I’m legally blind, Brant, it’s not like I can actually see your ass. Though I’m sure it’s nice, and I do full body massages.”
“You know it’s nice.” He just had to go there.
“Do I?” She smirked. “Because by the feel of you, you’ve let yourself go.”
“Boss.” The minute he said it, her smirk fell and her expression went pale. “Don’t forget.”
“You know what?” She licked her lips and backed away, one step, two. “I think maybe it’s best if we cut this short.”
“No.” The word was out before he could stop himself. What the hell was he doing? He didn’t want to be near her any more than she wanted to be near him.
Liar.
He lay back down and pretended a comfortable air he sure as hell didn’t feel. “Think of this as your official employee assessment. Make it good—or you’re fired.”
Brant closed his eyes. He knew he was being a jackass but he was just so….angry.
And his anger at himself had a very irritating habit of projecting onto everyone and everything in his path.
He was going to have a serious conversation with Nadine Titus when he got out of this room. And then he was going to get a drink.
Guilt nagged at him. He shoved it away.
A drink and a woman. A woman whose touch wouldn’t affect him like hers did, a woman who could see exactly what she was missing out on—a woman who didn’t blame him for the death of her child.
Or for the fact that she would never see.
All his fault.
I have everything.
I have everything.
I’ve lost everything.
“Well?” he snapped.
Her hands were on him once again. He should have known she wouldn’t be soft, tender.
Elbows. So many elbows dug into his chest. He hated elbows. Elbows should go to hell right along with women who managed to look sexy with bright red lipstick and little to no makeup.
It wasn’t natural.
He gritted his teeth when she silently worked out another knot with her right elbow while pressing her left hand on his shoulder, basically holding him on the table with what little weight she had so he wouldn’t jump and run.
His eyes flashed open when her breast came into contact with his chin.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” he rasped.
She frowned and pushed harder, causing his legs to jerk. “You asked for the rest of your massage.” She paused and looked in his general direction, her clear blue eyes unfocused. “So I’m letting you have it.”
A very sick part of him was so turned on he couldn’t see straight. Then she pushed down again, and every thought of slamming his mouth against hers and tossing her against the table flew out the window, right along with his dignity, when he muttered a curse and said, “Fine! Stop!”
“Fine?” She kept pushing. “Stop?”
With a curse, he pushed her hands away and stood, completely forgetting that he was naked.
Until the white sheet floated softly to the floor, pooling at his feet.
* * *
“Have you had all you can take?” Nikki asked sweetly, loving the fact that she’d made him sweat after his hurtful words. Who was she kidding? Brant hadn’t changed. She refused to look down. The sheet might as well have been a homing beacon, though. Her eyes betrayed her at least twice before she was able to focus again. Even though she couldn’t see him, she knew his body, knew what it felt like, and her fingers itched to reach out, even though she knew it was a horrible idea.
He’d stayed bitter. While she’d allowed herself to live, to move past the past. Past the pain.
This man, the one in front of her, wasn’t the one she’d fallen in love with, the one she at one point saw herself spending the rest of her life with. Having kids with.
She choked back a cry. With a sigh, she crossed her arms and gazed in his general direction. He was one giant, muscular blur, and then her eyes lowered. “I’ve never been so thankful to be blind.”
“Thankful,” he spat. “You’re thankful?”
“Brant—”
“I’m leaving.”
“Fine.” She swallowed back the tears and felt her way to the door, tugging it open with both hands.
“Why?”
“What?” She didn’t turn around. “Why what?”
“Why won’t you cash the damn check?”
“For the same reason I made the donation in the first place,” she said softly.
“What’s the reason?”
He didn’t deserve to know—he didn’t deserve her, and yet for all these years she’d held on to a sliver of hope. It was small, but it was hers, her cross to bear, that the man who had hurt her the worst would finally see himself the way she’d always seen him.
Because I’ll always love you. Because no matter how many times you hurt me, I want you.
I crave you. I dream of you.
Because she lost the loves of her life in one fell swoop.
Her family had abandoned her the minute she said yes to him, and his family never forgave him for getting married so young. She was left with nothing.
She told him a half truth. “Nadine Titus. I owed her a favor.”
“And she called in the favor by having you bid on me?”
“Yup.” Let him believe what he wanted—it wouldn’t change anything, nothing would. Especially not now. “Brant?”
“You should go.” His deep voice was like a shot to her heart. She’d fallen for that voice first, the personality second, the body, surprisingly, third. His voice always reminded her of warmth, comfort.
Now? It was hollow, emotionless—dead.
“I’m not the man you knew, Nikki.” She froze as warm hands suddenly pressed down on her shoulders from behind, tugging her against his naked, hot, body. His lips lowered to her ear as he whispered, “That man is dead. Make no mistake, I will fire you without hesitation. Our past”—his voice was shaking—“means nothing.”