Familiar Double

She shook her head. “I’ve never driven one of these.”

Jax nodded. He handed her the helmet that hung from the backrest and reached for another in a storage box beside the bike. “Come on, then. I’ll drive you wherever you need to go.”

He had already swung his leg over the bike and straddled it when he felt her hand on his arm. “Why are you doing this?” she asked.

“Doing what?”

“Being nice to me. Helping me. Why?”

Jax found that he really didn’t have an answer to her question. He hadn’t analyzed his reasons. At least not in any sensible way. All he knew was that Nicole had gotten more than one rough break in life. Maybe it was just a Texas thing to stand up for the underdog. It could even be that he enjoyed the courage and spirit she showed on the job. She tackled things that frightened her, and she did it without complaint. Or maybe it was simply because she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. Angela Myers and Nicole could have passed for sisters.

Angela was a beautiful woman, but she lacked something that Nicole possessed. He couldn’t pin it down—yet—but he knew one thing for certain. He wanted a chance to spend time with Nicole so that he could figure it out.

He felt Nicole swing a leg over the seat and press against him. He turned the ignition switch and felt the engine purr to life. As he pushed off, he felt Nicole’s arms go around his chest. Involuntarily she clung to him as the powerful bike surged forward.

Jax grinned to himself. Sometimes real life was even better than fantasy.

NICOLE CLOSED her eyes and pressed hard against Jax as he took one of the hairpin curves at sixty miles an hour. The bike leaned down, hugging the curve, and she did her best to shift her body weight with Jax.

Beneath the fear of the ride was a deep excitement. She’d never ridden a motorcycle like this one. In a few movie scenes she’d had to ride a smaller dirt bike for several hundred yards and then lay it down in a patch of sand. That experience hadn’t been nearly this exhilarating.

And part of the excitement was Jax. Where had he suddenly come from? And why was he being so kind to her? In her life there had been one or two men who’d made overtures of friendship and kindness, but in the end there was always a price tag attached. A big one. Nicole had made a vow a long time ago that she wasn’t about to pay that price for anyone’s help. She could do perfectly well on her own.

Jax took a left turn down a darkened canyon road, and Nicole had to admit that he knew his way around town. Vincent Paul lived in a small house tucked away on one of the cliffs overhanging the Malibu colony. When he’d first moved there, decades before, the property had been cheap. Now it was the only thing he owned that was worth anything. Several times Nicole had urged him to sell it and move closer into Los Angeles proper.

His reply had been that his canyon home was the one thing that kept him going in prison. All he could think about was getting out and returning to the place where he’d been happily married and the father of a young girl. Now he was determined to live out the rest of his life in that place.

Nicole had given up fighting the strength of his memories, but as she sped through the night on the back of Jax’s motorcycle, she wished she’d been more insistent. If Vincent was having a heart attack, the ambulance would never get there in time.

She leaned into another curve with Jax and felt the bike slow as they approached the narrow gravel driveway that wound up to the house.

Jax eased the bike up the gravel as Nicole held her breath and prayed they didn’t slide backward. But in a few seconds they were pulling up beside the house and parking.

As she got off, her legs visibly trembled. She felt Jax’s hand on her arm as he steadied her. “You’re a helluva passenger,” he said as he removed his helmet. “You balanced perfectly on the curves. You’re a natural on a bike.”

“Thanks,” she said. She watched as he rubbed one hand over his unruly blond hair. She handed him the helmet. “Let me see how bad my father is.”

She didn’t wait for an answer. She hurried into the house, using her key. “Daddy?” she called, walking through the kitchen and then the den. “Daddy?” It was a small two-bedroom house. Her former room had been on this floor and her parents had shared the bedroom beneath. It had been built so that it hung off the face of the cliff.

“Daddy?” She ran through the house, taking the stairs so fast she almost tripped.

“I’m in here.”

She hurried into the bedroom to find her father stretched out on the bed. He wore jeans and a turtleneck and looked every inch the European artist that he was, even though his face was pale.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, rushing forward to put a hand on his forehead and then to grab his wrist to check his pulse.

“I just had a little scare,” he said.

“What kind of scare?”

“I was afraid I was having a heart attack, but I feel a little better now. I’m sorry that I frightened you, Nicole. You must have flown here.”

“Almost,” she admitted with a slow grin. Her father’s pulse was elevated, but with each passing second she could see that he was recovering. “What got you upset, Dad?”

Vincent shook his head. “I can’t really say. You know how these medical things are. No rhyme or reason to them.”

Nicole noticed that her father wasn’t looking at her when he talked. Even after twenty years in prison, Vincent shared an extraordinary ability to communicate with his daughter. They’d always been able to simply sit across from each other and tell the truth about whatever was happening in their lives. She remembered clearly when Vincent had called her into the kitchen to tell her that he’d been accused of stealing the Dream of Isis. He’d told her flat out, and then he’d also told her that he didn’t do it, but that he was going to be tried as a thief. He’d never sugar-coated a single bit of it, and she’d never doubted that he was innocent.

“Dad, you aren’t telling me the truth,” she said softly. “What really happened?”

Vincent looked up at her. “Nicole, I spoke to Carlos Sanchez for you. He’s willing to take the case.”

“Daddy! We can’t afford Carlos. He’s one of the biggest names in Los Angeles. I’ll get a public defender. I’m not guilty and we don’t have the money to spend on someone like Carlos.” She didn’t bother to point out that paying Carlos Sanchez for defending her father had wiped out every bit of their savings. They’d sold cars, jewelry, tools, furnishings—everything except the house.

And Carlos had lost the case.

“I’ve already talked to him. He’s going to handle everything. He’s always felt guilty about not winning my case, though we all know that I convicted myself by talking to the police so freely,” Vincent said. “You need a big name, Nicole. Carlos Sanchez has become a man of great power. I want you to let him help you.” He sat up on the bed. “Why don’t we have a glass of wine and you can tell me everything that happened?”

“Dad, someone brought me here. My car wouldn’t start. He’s waiting out in the yard. Let me go and tell him that it’s okay to leave me here.”

“Who is this?” Vincent asked. “A boyfriend?”

Nicole shook her head, knowing that her father wanted nothing more than for her to find true love and happiness. “No, he isn’t a boyfriend. He’s a…co-worker. Actually, when you get right down to it, he’s my boss.”

She followed behind her father. As he slowly climbed the stairs, she was reminded again that she should continue to press Vincent to sell the house. He’d be safer in a one-level closer to the medical center.

Before she could stop him, Vincent went to the door and called out into the night. “Young man! Come inside for a glass of wine. My daughter, as usual, has made my ailments more serious than they are.”

“Father!” Nicole was outraged. “You called me and scared me half to death and now I’m the one who’s exaggerating things?”

Vincent grinned at her, signaling Jax into the house. “Leave an old man his pride,” he said loudly enough for Jax to hear. “I scared myself and then I scared you. I’m sorry. I’m feeling much better now. You’re like medicine, Nicole. I look at you and I see your mother and I remember my youth when I was strong and virile and had the whole future ahead of me.” As he talked he opened wine and poured three glasses.

“Let’s sit in the den. I want to know about your movie and the work, and then I want you to tell me all about this earring they say you stole.”

Nicole handed Jax a glass of wine but couldn’t meet his gaze. She wasn’t used to talking about her personal business in front of anyone. Vincent didn’t have that problem. He had always been open about his business, his ideas, his plans for the future. And now he was just as open about hers.

She watched as Jax took a seat directly across from her father. She took a chair between them at the small table.

“So, you’re Nicole’s boss? Tell me a little about yourself,” Vincent said to Jax.

Nicole felt a warm flush begin to creep up her neck. She’d never had the experience of having her father grill one of her prospective dates. Vincent had been in prison throughout her entire teenage years. Now he was acting like Jax was her high school prom date.

Jax flashed Nicole a grin. “I’m from Texas,” he said in his slow drawl, “and I coordinate the stunts on Midnight Magic.”

“My daughter is beautiful, is she not?”

“Daddy!”

Jax only laughed. He seemed to be enjoying her father’s company, though Nicole felt extremely uncomfortable.

“I have to admit, sir, that Nicole may be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” Jax carefully avoided making eye contact with her.

“I can’t believe this,” she said. “I rush over here because I think my father’s sick, and now the two of you gang up on me and try to embarrass me to death.” She was outdone with both the men. And they were just sitting there, smiling at each other.

“I’m an old man,” Vincent started out.

“Daddy, don’t you dare start that old-man stuff. Whenever you do that, you’re going to say something outrageous and then think you can get away with it because you pretend to be old. You’re only sixty-two. That’s not even old.”

“I’m an old man,” Vincent said again, ignoring everything Nicole had just said. “And my daughter’s happiness is the most important thing to me.”

“Daddy!”

“So I want to know what your relationship is to my daughter?”

“Good lord,” Nicole said, putting her head down on her arms. “I think I just might die of shame.”

“At the moment,” Jax said, ignoring Nicole and staring Vincent right in the eyes, “I’m not sure what kind of relationship Nicole would be interested in.”

“That’s a dodge, young man,” Vincent said with a sparkle in his eyes. “A clever one, but a dodge nonetheless.”

“Daddy!” Nicole wanted to sink through the floor.

“Your daughter is one of the loveliest women I’ve ever met,” Jax said, and this time his gaze lingered on Nicole. She felt as if her lungs had shrunk. “But I think she isn’t a woman who would appreciate being pushed. So I’m going to have to decline to answer your question, Mr. Paul, because I think the only person who should answer it for you is Nicole. But I can tell you that I’d be very, very interested in hearing her answer.”

Nicole found it nearly impossible to look away from Jax’s intense gaze, but she dropped her gaze to the floor and took a deep breath. “Then both of you will just have to wait. I’m not prepared to give an answer. And that’s the end of the discussion.”

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