Secrets Of The Night: A Case of Kiss and Tell

But not today. He paid for his wine and shoved the sexy, redheaded reporter out of his mind as he got back in his car. Randall drove the rest of the way to Janey’s high-rise but when he pulled up to the curb, Conner was reluctant to get out.

“I’ll text you when I’m ready to leave,” he said. “It might not be too long.”

Randall laughed. “I’ll be in the garage waiting for your text.”

Conner took the elevator to the penthouse, entering the code that would take him straight to his sister’s place. When he exited the elevator, he had the uneasy feeling that he hadn’t timed his entrance to be as late as he’d hoped. The first person he saw when he walked into her hallway was Palmer Cassini.

“So, she roped you into this as well,” Palmer said.

“Sadly, yes. But I was corraled because of an uneven number of guests.”

“She used a different technique to get me to come tonight. How have things been?”

“Good. Business is business, but we’re turning a profit and in this economy that’s all anyone can ask for.”

“You say it like you’re blasé about it, but I know that you’re in the black because of your savvy and leadership,” Palmer said.

Conner tucked his hands into his pockets and tried to look nonchalant, but Palmer had hit the nail on the head. Conner wasn’t about to let years of hard work go down the drain because of a downturn in the economy.

“Where’s my sister?”

“In the kitchen with another guest. One I suspect she may have invited for you,” Palmer said.

“Should I leave now?” Conner asked jokingly.

“I wouldn’t. She’s a very sexy woman.”

“Do you wish she’d invited this mystery woman for you?” Conner asked. He’d be more than happy to bow out of the dinner and let Palmer go after her.

“Not at all. I shouldn’t tell you this, but I’m very interested in your sister,” Palmer said.

“You are?”

“Yes, but she’s stubborn and refuses to let me get too close.”

“Don’t mess around with Jane,” he said. “If you hurt my sister …”

“You’ll come after me, I know. But it is she who hurts me. She doesn’t want anything serious to develop between us and every time I get too close she shuts me out … the way she did at the Fourth of July party.”

He sympathized with his friend. It was hard to court a difficult woman. And though he wasn’t courting Nichole, she was difficult and he did want her. He clapped a hand on Palmer’s shoulder. “If it’s meant to be, it will happen.”

“I’m not sure I want fate on my side. She can be a cruel mistress,” Palmer said with a laugh. “Come on, let’s go join the women.”

Conner wasn’t too sure he wanted to, but hopefully whoever Jane invited would take his mind off Nichole, even if it was only for tonight. He needed to put the attraction to her in perspective. He’d been working too hard. That was probably why he’d been so consumed with her lately. She was, after all, the only woman he’d kissed and held in his arms recently.

Of course, he was going to be thinking about her all the time. In fact, he was doing it again, he thought. The woman in the kitchen even sounded like Nichole as he walked toward it. But as soon as he crossed the threshold and entered the kitchen he realized it wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him.

Nichole was standing next to his sister, helping her assemble some kind of hors d’oeuvre and laughing at something Jane had said.

Remembering the last time he’d seen her, only a day ago, and how she’d left his office, he couldn’t help believing that she was here for revenge. She had gone after his sister when she hadn’t been able to get the dirt on him.

Of course a woman like Nichole would never understand that Jane wouldn’t give him up. His sister was very loyal and knew better than to talk about their past with any reporter, no matter how charming she was.

“Uh-oh, my brother doesn’t look happy to see you,” Jane said.

“I told you he wouldn’t be,” Nichole said.

He handed the bottle of wine to Jane and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Nichole, I’d like a word with you in private. Jane, I’m using your study.”

He turned on his heel and walked out of the kitchen. He heard the sound of Nichole’s carefully measured footsteps behind him as he entered Jane’s study and waited for her to follow him in.

He gestured for her to enter the room and carefully closed the door behind them. Then turned to her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

Nichole had suspected that Conner wouldn’t be pleased to see her here, but she’d never guessed that he’d be so angry. “Having dinner.”

“Don’t be flip. It was cute the first time we met but now, not so much,” he said.

“I’m not being flip. I’m here to have dinner,” she said. “I had no idea that you’d be here.”

“I’ll bet you didn’t.”

“What exactly do you think I’m plotting to do?” she asked. “Your sister is friends with one of my BFFs … actually you know her, too. Willow.”

“So you asked Willow to get you close to my sister?” he asked.

“Not at all. I want an interview with you, Conner, not with your sister. She’s funny. She thinks that we’d make a great couple but that you’re letting the fact that I’m a reporter keep you from seeing my charms—her words,” Nichole said.

“I can see your charms,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “So you’re not here to dig up dirt on me?”

“Nope,” she said. “And I’m insulted that you’d think I’d do something like that. I’m a reporter with ethics. I don’t make up stories or dig through trash cans to find leads. When I write my story on you, it will be because you gave me an interview,” she said. To be honest, she was insulted, and who wouldn’t be. But more than that, she was hurt. She had the feeling that Conner was doing everything he could to keep from being attracted to her, and if that meant that he had to make her into the bad guy, then she guessed that’s what he’d do.

“I’m not going to stay for dinner. Your sister is delightful, but you are not the man I thought you were,” she said, turning to walk away.

He grabbed her elbow and tugged her off balance until she fell back into his arms. “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I felt cornered by Janey and then seeing you just added fuel to the fire. I was happy to see you, I am happy to see you. Dammit, Nichole you are a complication.”

“I said the same thing about you earlier. I don’t know why you can’t simply agree to the interview and then we can get it out of the way.”

“I can’t do that. I’ve sworn I’d never give an interview.”

“But you can bargain with me?” she asked.

“It’s the only card I have,” he admitted. “It’s the only thing I can say to keep you interested in staying here with me.”

“You could try asking me to stay.”

He shook his head. “I can’t. Then you’d know how much I really want you.”

She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close, putting her head on his shoulder. “You make things so hard.”

“I do, don’t I?”

She pushed away from him, taking a step back. “Why is it so hard for you?”

“Just between us?” he asked.

She nodded, realizing that he was more vulnerable than she ever would have guessed.

“You’re not like the women I’ve dated,” he said.

She arched one eyebrow at him. “That sounds like a line.”

“It isn’t. You are so fiery and passionate about your work. You don’t let anything stand in your way, but when I hold you in my arms I can tell that you are equally passionate with me. I want that, but …”

“But what?”

“You can also seem all-consuming,” he admitted.

She understood what he was trying not to say. She suspected that he was afraid, just as she was, of letting him get too close. They were both, in their own ways, used to being alone, and meeting someone of the opposite sex with this much chemistry was a threat.

There was a knock on the door before it opened. Jane stood there with two cocktail glasses in her hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell each of you that the other was coming.”

“It’s okay,” Nichole said.

“We’ll talk later,” Conner said.

But Jane just handed a cocktail glass to Nichole and then hugged her brother. “It’s your own fault for refusing to say what happened between the two of you. I knew there was something going on.”

She saw Conner’s face tighten and though Nichole knew Jane had been trying to help, she’d just done the one thing guaranteed to drive Conner further away from her. He prided himself on being aloof, but he couldn’t be if everyone saw them as a couple.

Dinner wasn’t as awkward as he’d feared it might be. First of all, the only people at the party were the four of them and since Palmer and Jane were two of his favorite people, Conner found it easy to relax. But that just kept him on guard a little more. He didn’t want to inadvertently give anything away to Nichole that she’d use later.

Once the meal was served, Jane was in her element at the head of the table. As the hostess, she kept the cocktails flowing and the conversation moving.

“So, Nichole, inquiring minds want to know. Why did you decide to become a reporter?” Jane asked after Palmer finished telling them a hilarious story about his first polo game when nerves had gotten the better of him and he’d fallen off the horse.

“I always wanted to be one. I think I saw myself as a Nancy Drew type when I was little,” she said.

“Oh, I liked Nancy Drew, too,” Jane said. “But solving crimes isn’t the same as being a reporter.”

Nichole put her fork and knife down and took a sip of her drink before she leaned forward. “When I was in high school, I had Mr. Fletcher for freshman English and he was the sponsor of the school newspaper. He liked my writing and told me I should join the newspaper staff. I did. I liked it,” she said.

“What did you like about it?” Conner asked, fascinated at learning more about her. Suddenly she wasn’t just a nosey reporter—hell, she’d never really been just that—but now she seemed more real to him.

“My family had a lot of secrets growing up. Stuff we didn’t talk about with each other or with anyone outside the family. That’s not healthy. I liked the fact that my job was to find out the truth, to report and let everyone know what was going on. It was such a change from my home life that I was addicted to it, I think.”

“Sort of like me and making this perfect lifestyle on television,” Jane said. “In real life I’m so not perfect.”

“I’d have to disagree,” Palmer said.

“You don’t know me well enough to disagree,” Jane said, wrinkling her nose at Palmer.

“I’m trying to,” he said with a laugh.

Nichole picked up her fork and toyed with the asparagus on her plate. Conner wanted to know more. What kind of secrets had she learned to keep? He doubted it was anything like the ones his father had kept. But when she looked up and caught him staring at her, he smiled gently in her direction and she blushed.

“What made you decide to do a cooking and lifestyle show?” Nichole asked.

“I always liked to make my room a retreat. So I started learning how to sew and craft things. And then when we had to leave our home in the Hamptons there was a six-month period where we didn’t have a cook—do you remember?” she asked, turning to her brother.

“I do,” he said. “You started cooking for Mom and me.”

“Well, Mom is an excellent fund-raiser and bridge player, but the woman cannot cook,” Jane said with a laugh.

“Sounds like you found your calling,” Nichole said.

“I did,” Jane admitted. “I just liked the feeling I had when Mom and Conner ate my food. I made them happy and life was good while we were sitting around the table.”

Conner wished Janey wouldn’t talk like that in front of Nichole. He had no idea what she’d print about him or his sister. He had nothing but her word that she’d only use what she learned in an interview.

“I feel the same way about being at my mother’s kitchen table,” Palmer said. “We have a cook but my mama likes to cook for me and my brothers. There is such a feeling of love in the dishes she prepares.”

“What about you, Nichole?” Jane asked. “Are you like me or your mom?”

Nichole nibbled her bottom lip, something he realized she did when she wasn’t sure what to say. “I don’t know. It’s just me at home and I don’t cook much for myself. But I think maybe someday, if I have a family, I’d like to create something special like you or Palmer’s mom do.”

He didn’t like the thought of Nichole having a family someday and he didn’t want to acknowledge why it disturbed him. He knew he wouldn’t be the man in her life and he didn’t like the thought of another man being with her.

“That’s sweet,” Jane said.

“What about you, brother?”

“What about me? I’m never getting married. I like my freedom too much.”

“I don’t believe that’s true, but that’s a conversation for another night,” Jane said.

“What about me, darling Jane? Don’t you want to know what I’d want?”

“No. I know what you want and it sounds like someone else’s dream,” she said. “How about some dessert?”

Jane pushed her chair back and stood up. Palmer watched her go and Conner had to admit that he felt sorry for his friend.

“I’ll help Jane with the dishes,” Nichole said, gathering the remaining plates before she went into the kitchen.

“Why is your sister such a stubborn woman?” Palmer asked, his Brazilian accent heavier than normal. “I could make her happy.”

Ordinarily Conner wouldn’t have offered any advice. He made it a policy to stay out of Jane’s personal life so that she’d stay out of his. But he liked Palmer and he wanted his friend to be happy. “She doesn’t trust happy.”

“What do you mean?”

“The last time she was truly happy and trusted someone, it blew up in her face.”

“You mean your father?” Palmer asked.

“Yes.”

“There’s been no man since then?” he asked.

“Not that I know of,” Conner said.

“Then I will have to work twice as hard to show her that she can trust me,” Palmer said. “That I am nothing like your father was.”

“That’s going to be hard,” Conner said. “Our father did a lot of damage.”

The door to the dining room opened and Nichole was standing there. He knew she’d heard his comments and he hated that. If she were just a dinner party guest, he could pretend it meant nothing, but she was a reporter bent on digging up his past.

Jane came back with a coffee tray and a fake smile. She was overly animated and it was almost painful to watch her pretend to be the perfect hostess now when they’d seen her genuinely enjoying herself earlier. The tension between Palmer and Jane was palpable.

Nichole must have felt the same way because as soon as dessert was eaten, she glanced at her watch and said she had an early morning and had to go.

“I’ll walk you out,” Conner said. He hated that years later his father still had the power to hurt both him and his sister. It wasn’t fair that neither of them had found a way to heal from those lies.

“Okay,” Nichole said. “But I don’t think it’s necessary.”

“Maybe he wants to be in your company,” Palmer said. “Sometimes a man just wants to prove himself to a woman.”

“Or maybe I’m ready to leave as well,” Conner said.

He got that Palmer was talking to Jane, but he didn’t want Nichole to get any ideas about what he had in mind for them.

Seven

Nichole was tired and just wanted to get home. What had started out as a fun and interesting night had become a little tense as she rode down in the elevator with Conner. Especially when he reached out, pushed the stop button and turned to her.

“Everything that Jane said tonight was off the record. I don’t want to see that showing up in your column tomorrow morning,” he said.

She sighed and wanted to punch him hard in the stomach. “I already said I have ethics. When are you going to get it? I don’t write about what my friends say at their dinner parties. Your warning shows me that I was completely wrong about you from the beginning.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I thought maybe we could have a chance as a couple.”

“I don’t want to be a couple. I want to have you as my mistress,” he said.

“I know,” she said, reaching around him to start the elevator car in motion again. “I really do have an early meeting and since we’ve had the mistress discussion before, I hope you won’t mind if we skip it now.”

He leaned back against the wall of the car and stared at her with that bright blue gaze of his. “Don’t be offended. I can’t take any chances.”

“Why not?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “When I was nineteen and just starting to take over the reins at Macafee International, Business Week sent a reporter to interview me. He was about my age and easy to relate to. He spent a week or so following me around at the office and I let my guard down and talked openly with him. He printed things that weren’t part of the interview itself and I learned the hard way that there is no such thing as off the record.”

She was angry with the reporter who had abused Conner’s trust and a little sad for the young man he’d been at that time. “I’m not like that.”

“You say that, but then you also told me you’d do anything to get this story. And then I show up at my sister’s house and there you are … it doesn’t look good,” he said.

“She invited me,” Nichole said carefully, enunciating her words, though the anger she’d felt earlier about his attitude had disappeared. She had caught a glimpse of the private side of Conner and she wasn’t about to let that slip away. He was a man with a lot of complicated emotions. Tonight had proven that. And though he was arrogant and demanding, she was beginning to suspect that was all a ruse he used to keep from being hurt again.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

“Because I’m just getting the feeling that I’ve barely scraped the tip of the iceberg that is Conner Macafee.”

“Iceberg? I thought I’d proven I was anything but cool as far as you were concerned.”

“Oh, you’re red hot when I’m in your arms, but you seem so forceful and solid underneath that it’d be easy to accept you as just a man who wanted a mistress. But then the water moves and I see something hidden in the depths of you …”

“That’s pretty deep. I’m really not all that. I’m just a guy who likes to get his way and right now my way would be you in my bed.”

“If only that were all you were asking,” she said.

“Would you have a one-night stand with me?” he asked.

That point-blank delivery struck her the same way his initial demand that she be his mistress had—with a thrill she couldn’t deny, at least to herself, and then a bit of sadness because she genuinely liked him and wanted so much more than just one night.

“Would you sit down to an interview with me?” she asked.

He shook his head. “You haven’t changed my mind.”

“Are you sure?”

The elevator doors opened and they stepped out into the lobby of the building. There weren’t many people there and Conner took her arm and drew her to a quiet corner.

“Actually, I’m not sure. Tonight when you were talking about secrets … I want to ask you about your childhood. Would you be willing to open up to me about it?”

“Maybe,” she said. She didn’t like talking about her own secrets. It made her mad at herself that she still couldn’t break the habits that were ingrained in her since childhood.

“What if I gave you a kiss?” he asked.

She had to smile at him. “You can be a scamp, you know that?”

“Yes,” he said. “If sheer willpower won’t convince you to give me what I want, I’m not afraid to use charm.”

“Is this still a game?” she asked, because she needed to know before she let herself fall any deeper for him.

He pulled her closer to him, wrapping one arm around her waist and leaning in so that his breath brushed her cheek when he exhaled. He smelled the way she remembered him, spicy and delicious, and she wanted to rest her head against his chest and just let him wrap her senses in comfort.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted.

With another guy that wouldn’t be enough of an answer, but with Conner it was more than she expected. He was so guarded. So used to protecting himself and keeping everyone at arm’s length that she felt even that tiny admission was a treasure.

“I’m not, either,” she said, looking up at him.

“How are you getting home?” he asked.

“A cab, why?”

“I have my driver waiting. Can we give you a lift?” he asked.

“Why would you offer?” she asked.

“I’m not ready to say good night yet.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“You sound so suspicious,” he said with a laugh. Pulling out his cell phone, he typed a quick message.

“Well, with you I’ve learned to be.”

“Don’t be,” he said, cupping his hand under her elbow and leading her to the exit. “I just want a chance at uncovering your secrets.”

Conner was happy that Nichole had accepted the offer of a ride from him because he wasn’t ready for the evening to end. Randall said nothing as Conner gave him Nichole’s address; the driver just piloted the car through the evening Manhattan traffic.

Nichole sat back against the leather seats of the Rolls Royce Phantom. Conner stretched his arm out along the back of the seat and toyed with a strand of her hair, wrapping the silky lock around his finger and then letting it unravel.

“You’re making my life difficult,” she said at last, turning toward him.

“I know,” he said. If he’d let go of his convictions and say yes to having an affair with her, life would be easier, but he didn’t know for how long. He suspected it would only last until he got her into his bed and then he’d be back to the same distrust he had now.

“What kind of secrets did your family hide?” he asked. He wasn’t going to play around and pretend that he didn’t want to know about her past. Knowing the person she was might make it easier for him to trust her. But it would also make it easier for him to figure out what kind of pressure to apply to make her cave in to his desires.

“You still want to know about that?” she asked.

“Stop stalling. You know I want to know every detail about you. And I tried researching you on the internet the other day and couldn’t find anything but your column and the articles you’d written.”

“You researched me?”

“My attorney advised me to,” he said, deadpan.

She narrowed her gaze on him and then started laughing. “Dated a few crazies?”

“No, I was joking with you. I wanted to know more about you. Find out what made the woman behind the reporter tick.”

She shifted around in the seat, turning so she faced him. “There isn’t much to tell. My family’s secret isn’t too bad or too dark. It was more damaging the way we dealt with it.”

The way she downplayed it told him that wasn’t true. “What was it?”

“Depression. Severe depression that makes the person feel like they should kill themselves,” she said.

“Which family member?” he asked, not liking the sound of her secret.

“My mom. She has medicine she can take to control it, but it makes her sort of a vegetable so she hates it. My childhood was a roller-coaster ride and we could never discuss Mom’s periods of blueness. That’s what she called it.”

“What about your dad? Surely, he said something to you,” Conner said.

“Not really. He was at work most of the time and he was the one we’d hide it from. I’m an only child, so it was just my mom and me at home,” Nichole explained. “When I was little my dad traveled a lot for business and that always brought on my mom’s depression.”

Conner remembered the one thing she’d said earlier that he’d let pass. “Did she ever try to kill herself?”

Nichole pursed her lips and turned to look out the window. He could see the reflection of her drawn face in the car window as they passed under the street lights. “Once. My dad had to be called home. I was fourteen. He didn’t travel after that and my Aunt Mable moved in with us to watch her while he was at work.”