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A Wolff at Heart
She’d dated wealthy guys in law school a time or two. But when all was said and done, each relationship ended by her choice. The gulf between her past experience and theirs was too great to sustain a long-term commitment. It occurred to her on reflection that it had been almost two years since her last date here in Charlottesville, and even longer than that since she had been intimate with a man.
Her wide circle of friends kept her social calendar filled, and on the rare occasions when she had free time, she used the extra hours to power through the backlog of work that always dogged her.
She loved her job. The diplomas on the wall were more than mere window dressing. They were a testament to how far she had come. Those same diplomas now rested back-to-back in a sturdy cardboard carton that would go straight into her car when she and Pierce were finished. The only real challenge remaining was her desk. She snagged two packing boxes, pulled up the appropriate spreadsheet on her computer to label them and started opening drawers.
* * *
Pierce stood in the doorway, unnoticed, and studied the woman who was going to help him make sense of the unbelievable. She worked quickly and methodically, using Ziploc bags to corral paper clips, pens, rubber bands and a host of other office necessities. He knew what she was doing. He’d carried out enough boxes to realize that she had color-coded and cross-referenced each one. He had to admire such single-minded organization, but he didn’t possess any of those genes. If it had been left up to him, he would have managed to box up the whole place in half a day.
But Nikki Parrish was too meticulous to cut corners. Which was why she would never be searching for a washcloth and towel at one in the morning, as Pierce had been the night he’d moved into his new house.
While he watched in silence, he saw her reach into the back of the flat center drawer and extract something small that looked, from this distance, like a metal animal.
“Gift from an old boyfriend?” he asked, entering the room and sprawling onto her settee with a groan of relief. The window beside the fireplace was open, letting in a much-needed breeze.
Nikki clutched the figurine to her chest, her eyes wary. “I’m not sentimental, Mr. Avery.”
“I told you to call me Pierce. And if you’re not sentimental, then why do you have that whatever-it-is hidden away in the bowels of your desk?”
It was a fair question, and a simple one. But Nikki seemed taken aback by his query. She shrugged, turning the object in her fingers, her expression pensive. “It’s a pewter collie. Someone gave it to me when I was a child.”
“So if you’re not sentimental, why keep it?”
A shadow of something dark danced across her face. “It reminds me of a particularly bad day.”
“I’d think you’d want to toss it, in that case.”
She looked up at him, her gaze bleak. “Sometimes we have to remember the past, even when it hurts. Acknowledging our mistakes can help us make sure we never repeat them.”
The note in her voice disturbed him. What did Nicola Parrish have to regret? Surely nothing too terrible at her age. He thought about pressing for details, but decided it was not a smart idea. He couldn’t take a chance of pissing her off. Not when he needed her help so badly.
He rolled his shoulders, feeling the pleasant strain of exertion. Despite the physical nature of his job, two hours of lifting heavy boxes tapped into a whole extra set of muscles. “The upstairs is clear,” he said. “And the outer office minus the furniture. All we have left is whatever is in here.”
“You’re fast.”
“No point in wasting time.”
“I appreciate your help,” she said, her manner a trifle stiff.
He shrugged. “It’s a quid pro quo, remember? I’ll take you to dinner tonight and you can tell me what you’ve uncovered so far.”
She leaned forward to drop the dog into a box...hesitated...and at the last moment, tucked it into the pocket of her shorts. “Dinner isn’t necessary.”
“You’ve had a long day, longer still by the time we’re done. It’s the least I can do.”
“I’m not dressed for dinner.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll go home and get cleaned up while you do the same. There’s a new place over on East Market I’ve been wanting to try.” He paused. “Are we taking the boxes to your house? I’ll be quicker unloading than loading. I took my time packing them in, but it’s still going to take two runs.”
She shook her head. “My condo is tiny. I’ve rented a storage unit two blocks over. If you don’t mind, I’ll give you the key and the code, and by the time you get back, I should be finished. This desk and that furniture grouping go also...but none of the pieces in the outer office.”
When she handed him the keys, her fingers brushed his palm. The two of them were close enough that he could inhale the not-unpleasant scent of overly warm feminine skin. He flashed for a moment to a vision of the both of them showering together. Holy hell. Not an auspicious time to get hard.
He backed away as casually as he could. She handed him a slip of paper with the address and the code. “Thank you for doing this.”
Trying to ignore his baser instincts, he cleared his throat. “Have you had any luck with the records?”
She perched on the edge of her desk, one leg swinging. “You’re lucky we live in the high-speed age, Mr. Impatient. Something came through on my laptop just a little while ago. I’ll print out the attachments and bring them to dinner. With both of us looking at them, surely we can spot any anomalies.”
His arousal faded as he once again felt the crushing burden of knowing that something terrible had happened when he was born. Did he really want the answers? No, but he didn’t really have a choice.
“I won’t be long,” he said, striding from the room before she could read his unease. “See you in a few.”
* * *
Unloading the truck was a piece of cake since he could carry boxes directly into the unit Nikki had rented. It occurred to him that she was literally storing away a large part of who she was while she tried to relax, unwind and decide the next step her life would take.
In that way, their situations were similar. Pierce, who had been comfortably assured that his life’s course was mapped out, was suddenly faced with putting his assistant manager in charge of the business in order to wade through deep, unknown waters. He wasn’t his father’s son. Even now, with plenty of time to get used to the idea, he was incredulous.
As he drove back, he tried to imagine how he would react when he found out the truth of his birth. But the problem was, he had no idea how to spin that. No scenario made sense.
Nikki was waiting for him on the stoop when he got back, her face tilted toward the sun, stylish black sunglasses hiding her expression. He put the truck in Park and got out. “All done?”
She nodded, handing him a water bottle. “Yep. I feel a little sick to my stomach.”
“How come?” He sat down beside her, their hips practically touching. Her arms and legs were pale in the afternoon sunlight. Workaholics were rarely suntanned.
“I hope I’m doing the right thing. I love it here in Charlottesville. But I keep thinking there’s something more. Something I’m missing.”
“Marriage and kids?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Doubtful. Kids require attention, and I’m not sure I can change my ways. I’ve worked flat out for all of my adult life.”
“For what?”
“Validation. Fulfillment. Rent money. How about you?”
“My dad and I own and operate an outdoor adventure company. He pushed and prodded me until I finished a business degree, but that was merely a means to an end for me. I could never have stomached sitting at a desk all day. I’m an adrenaline junkie. More action. Fewer words.”
Three
Nikki wondered if he meant that last bit to sound suggestive. Was he flirting, or was her overheated imagination reading subtext where there was none? It wasn’t difficult to imagine Pierce practicing his philosophy of life in the bedroom.
She swallowed hard, envying him his casual confidence. She had worked incessantly since she was sixteen, terrified of the prospect of being broke and alone. Though she had found help along the way, much of her success could be attributed to sheer cussedness and an unwillingness to give up.
Her savings and retirement funds were sound. And even with this hiatus, her checkbook wouldn’t suffer too much. But in her desperate push to achieve fiscal security, she had occasionally forgotten how to have fun. With big, sexy Pierce Avery sitting on her doorstep, literally, the prospect of playing hooky was suddenly irresistible.
His body was a thing of beauty, strong and muscular and perfectly proportioned. It came as no surprise to know that he spent his days outdoors in physical activity. He carried himself with the masculine grace of an athlete. Though he was a large man, he was neither clumsy nor inelegant. Sitting so close, she could study his hands—the long fingers, broad palms, neatly trimmed nails. It occurred to her that Pierce was the kind of man who could sweep a woman off her feet and carry her up a flight of stairs without effort.
When her breathing grew choppy, she knew she was in trouble. “I suppose we should get back to work,” she said, wincing at the unmistakable wobble in her voice.
Pierce didn’t seem to notice. He stood up in one fluid movement and held out a hand to help her to her feet. “I’m ready if you are.” When his warm grasp engulfed her smaller hand, her knees trembled. Wow. This was a heck of a time to fall victim to an entirely inappropriate infatuation.
He released her at exactly the right moment, leaving her to wonder if all that dizzying attraction was on her side only. He held open the door and followed her into her office.
“I guess the desk needs to go on first, doesn’t it?” she asked, trying to sound businesslike and professional instead of like a teenage girl with a crush on the star quarterback.
“It does,” Pierce agreed, eyeing her dubiously. “I don’t want to offend your womanly sensibilities, but wouldn’t it be better if I call one of my buddies to help me with this?”
“I’m stronger than I look,” she insisted. “I’ll get this end and you take that one and walk backward. We can set it down in the doorway to catch our breath before we go the last bit to the truck.”
It was clear he wanted to argue, but she was ready to be done with all this and go home. Now that the moment was actually at hand, she felt hot tears sting her eyes, despite her professed lack of sentimentality. This cozy suite of offices and the square footage upstairs had been a happy, comforting place—a spot where she had found her stride, cut her teeth, learned to trust in herself.
She watched as Pierce felt for a handhold at the corners nearest him. “Use your legs to lift,” he said, “not your back. On my count. One, two, three...”
Just as she picked up her end, a small, furry rodent darted from its hitherto undisturbed hiding place, scrambled over her bare ankle—yuck—and disappeared into a gap where the baseboard met the wall.
She shrieked and dropped the desk, feeling an instant stab of pain when the unforgiving wood landed on her shoe.
* * *
“Holy hell.” Pierce set down his end gently and lunged forward, lifting the desk to free Nikki. Her face twisted in a grimace of pain. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the settee, seating her with her legs across his lap. “Let me see how bad it is,” he muttered. “Why in God’s name did you drop the desk?”
Embarrassment colored her face a rosy red. “A mouse ran over my foot. I hate mice.”
Her left foot had taken the hit. Gently, he untied the shoe and eased it off. They both sucked in a breath at the damage. If the heavy furniture had landed an inch to one side, it would have crushed several bones. As it was, it had caught the edge of her big toe, ripping skin and bloodying her foot.
He held her heel in his hand. “Do you have any first-aid supplies? Any ice?”
She shook her head. “I unplugged the mini fridge yesterday. My assistant wanted it for her college-aged daughter. And I’ve never kept any medicine here. I guess I should have.”
He frowned. “I’ll take you to the emergency room.”
“No, please. Nothing’s broken. You can see that. I’m sure it’s not as bad as it looks. And it’s not my right foot, so I’ll be fine to drive.”
Pierce had dealt with a fair number of sporting injuries over the years. He was certified in CPR. In fact, he could be called upon to stitch up a life-threatening wound if no help was at hand and hospitals too far away. When he took groups into the wilderness, his responsibility was to care for them in every way.
But seeing Nikki in pain made him a little woozy. Her fair skin was so soft and beautiful it was a crime to see it damaged. Her feet were long and narrow with high arches. Only when she moved restlessly did he realize he was caressing the bottom of her injured foot with his thumb.
Immediately, he dropped her leg, and then felt like a jerk when she gasped softly. “I’ve got plenty of first-aid stuff at my house, and you could use a break with a change of scenery,” he said. “No arguments.”
“I was born to argue,” she said, smiling at him despite her injury. “And besides...I have to be out of here by midnight or I have to fork over another month’s rent. So thanks for your chivalry, but I’ll be fine.”
He knew she was an independent, successful woman, but her stubbornness at the moment frustrated him. “I know a couple of guys who owe me a favor. You can trust them with your belongings, I swear. I’ll ask them to get the last few things out. Will that satisfy you?”
She gnawed her lip, clearly not used to letting someone else take the wheel. He understood self-reliance...hell, he even applauded it. But it was foolish not to accept help when help was at hand. Fortunately, Nikki must have come to the same conclusion. “Thank you,” she said. “That would be wonderful.”
He eased her legs to one side and stood up, situating her on the settee carefully. “Let me call and make sure they’re available. Don’t move.”
* * *
Even though her foot throbbed like a bad toothache, Nikki didn’t move. Not only because of her injury, but because she wanted to study Pierce while he wasn’t looking at her. She’d been right about his ability to sweep a woman off her feet. He’d lifted her as if she were no heavier than a child. And she was not a lightweight.
It was in his nature to take over. She could see that. But he was genuinely making an effort to defer to her wishes. Which endeared him to her, despite his innate bossiness. She should never have made this lame bargain. Pierce was too handsome, too charismatic, too everything.
Her plan to take time off and decide on the next step in her life had to be a priority. Giving in to a moment’s infatuation with a would-be client was impulsive and possibly foolish, neither of which normally described Nicola Parrish.
There was, however, some justification for her momentary lapse in judgment. Pierce Avery was the whole package: smart, funny, kind and strong. Heck, next to him a Boy Scout would look like an unmotivated slacker. Nevertheless, she’d do well to ignore the way her heart pitter-pattered when he touched her. The man was being solicitous, that’s all. And he wanted something from her, so even his attentiveness was suspect.
Pierce needed her in his quest for answers. And she suspected that he was single-minded enough to take care of any obstacles in his way, including but not limited to playing doctor for his injured lawyer.
She flexed her ankle experimentally, sucking in a sharp breath when pain shot up her leg. Already her foot was swelling. And throbbing. Dang it to heck and back. This was a complication she didn’t need.
Moodily, she watched her Galahad pace as he lined up replacements to finish her move. He looked far more relaxed today than he had when they’d first met in her office. An old, gray UVA football T-shirt clung to his broad, flat torso and exposed rippling arm muscles. His navy board shorts were well-worn, and when he bent over to pick up a pencil that had rolled out from under the desk, she glimpsed the waistband of his boxers.
More flustered than she cared to admit, she dragged her attention away from Pierce and decided to try standing up. She eased her good foot to the floor, swung her other leg around and gingerly stood, putting weight on her left leg. Not too bad. It was uncomfortable, sure, but with a couple of ibuprofen she’d be fine by morning.
Pierce ended his phone call and glared at her. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“It’s not a sprained ankle. I’m entirely capable of walking.” Although the prospect of having him carry her again was temptingly sweet.
“The sidewalk outside is hot enough to melt steel. How do you plan on getting to the car?” He crossed his arms over his chest as if daring her to argue with him further.
“Well, I...” She trailed off, ruefully aware that she hadn’t taken into account the actual logistics of getting to the car. As a kid, she’d had tough soles and could play outside with impunity. But that had been long ago, and Pierce had a point. Burning the bottom of her foot on top of her recent injury was not a pleasant prospect.
“Fine,” she said, lifting her chin. “You may carry me.”
* * *
Pierce smothered a grin. They were both sweating buckets, and though Nikki was trying hard not to snap at him, he could tell she was irritated, particularly since the job was not finished. She struck him as the kind of woman who liked her i’s dotted and her t’s crossed.
He managed a neutral expression. “In that case, let’s go.”
As he crossed the room in her direction, Nikki held up a hand. “Not so fast. We can’t leave until your friends get here.”
“They’re going to swing by my place to get the keys. We’ll lock the office and my truck and leave the truck on the street. I’ll drive your car and take you home in it later. I can always get a cab.”
She shifted from one foot to the other, obviously uncomfortable. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”
“How can that be a bad thing?”
“I suppose I should be grateful.”
“And yet you’re not,” he said wryly.
“Of course I am.”
“But you’d much rather have finished the day on your own terms.”
“Is there anything wrong with that?”
“No. But there’s something to be said for going with the flow.”
“I’d rather be digging a trench to redirect the flow the way I want it.”
“At least you’re honest.”
“I need to go by my place first to get some clean clothes. Is that a problem?”
“Not at all, Your Highness,” he said, swinging her up into his arms before she could protest. “Your wish is my command.”
* * *
Pierce felt her slender arm curl around his neck and sighed inwardly. This was a heck of a time to feel unmistakable sexual attraction. He had a mystery to solve, and this woman was his only ally. He couldn’t afford to let her know that she seriously did it for him. Everything from her silky hair to her classic cheekbones to her pinup-girl legs turned him on. With her in his arms, it was a short jump to imagining her in his bed...naked...calling out his name when he made her come.
Damn it. Lust was a messy complication. If he was smart, he’d ignore her evocative scent and treat her like an asexual friend. Trouble was, there was nothing asexual about Nikki Parrish. She didn’t flaunt her looks or really accentuate them in any way that he could tell, other than with a hint of mascara and some lip gloss. But her sexuality shone through, even when she was playing the uptight lawyer.
Pierce had to move the seat all the way back to get his legs into Nikki’s small Sentra. She hadn’t complained once when he locked her office door and deposited her in the passenger seat of her car. He started the engine and shot a sideways glance at his unusually silent passenger. “What’s the matter?”
She shrugged, her gaze locked on the door they had recently exited. “I thought I was doing the right thing. Now I don’t know. I didn’t expect to feel so...”
“Sentimental?”
She punched his arm. “I was going to say conflicted.”
“It’s natural. Every turning point in life is an emotional hurdle.”
“Wow. That’s pretty deep.”
“You mean for a non-cerebral guy like me?”
“Your words, not mine. Just because you didn’t choose a desk job doesn’t mean you’re any less of an intellectual being.”
“Sometimes I think it makes me more of a thinker,” he admitted. “There’s something about nature that strips away all the crap and reduces life to its most basic elements.”
She gave him directions to her condo, which was only a couple of miles away. Again he carried her, though since her unit was on the ground floor, it wasn’t far. Inside, he looked around with interest while Nikki collected what she would need.
Moments later, she came out of the bedroom. “I’d rather shower here, if you don’t mind. Can you entertain yourself for a few minutes?”
“Of course,” he said, settling into a comfy armchair and picking up the remote. As he absently flipped channels, he studied her place. It was nicely furnished and tidy, but hardly big enough to toss a cat. The nearest bookshelf was filled with law books. No knickknacks and no pictures. Odd. Even her office had shown more signs of color. Though there’d been no photos there, either.
Nikki was true to her word. In no time at all she reappeared, wearing black slacks and a sleeveless white blouse. She looked cool and pristine, and he had a sudden urge to muss her up any way he could. “How’s the foot?” he asked, noting her bare feet.
“It hurt like heck in the shower,” she admitted. “But once we put some antibiotic ointment on it, I’m sure it will be fine. I did find some Band-Aids, but they’re too small.”
“I don’t think you’ll be comfortable going into a restaurant barefoot. And we need to bandage up that foot as soon as we can. There’s a steak place out near me that does carryout. Sound okay to you? Or are you a vegetarian?” More and more people were these days.
But Nikki was already shaking her head. “I ate a lot of beans and macaroni and cheese growing up,” she said, opening her purse and tucking a comb inside. “I love red meat. Any kind of meat, for that matter. So that sounds wonderful.”
Her comment sparked curiosity, but he decided not to pursue it. For now, he was simply relieved that she was not going to fight him over his plans for the evening. “What about the hospital documents?” he asked.
“If I can access my email at your house, I’ll print them out there. Is that okay?”
“Of course. Give me just a minute to order the food, and we’ll go.”
She told him her preferences, and after he placed an order, he moved to lift her again. She stopped him with a look. “The sun is getting low. I can tolerate the sidewalk. I appreciate the thought, but I’m walking to the car.”
He put his hands high in the door frame, stretching his shoulders. “Did your parents ever call you stubborn?”
Her face went blank, wiped clean of every emotion. “No...they didn’t,” she said, her voice cool. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go. I’m starving.”
He waited for her to lock the door and then followed her out to the car. Though it was hours yet until sunset, the sun’s rays had tempered and a light breeze alleviated some of the heat. Nikki didn’t say much. He wondered if he had somehow offended her.
The food was ready when he ran inside the restaurant. He paid for it quickly and jogged back to the car, oddly relieved to see Nikki and the car right where he had left them. He put the food in the trunk, except for one small sack. He slid into the driver’s seat and handed Nikki his peace offering.
“What’s this?” she asked, her mood suspicious.
“Hand-breaded onion rings. You said you were hungry.”
Four