Secrets Of The Heart (Book 1, The Heart Series) (2 page)

He met her cold, hard stare.

He’d seen that look a thousand times before in a thousand different situations: freezing out a frisky admirer, facing down anyone who stood in her way, and getting her hackles up when someone had the audacity to say she couldn’t do something she wanted to.

Stubborn, obstinate were too mild to describe this narrowed-eyed glare. The set of her chin added concrete evidence to her single-minded resolve. Conviction, plain and clear, sparkled bright.

He knew from past experiences she wouldn’t give up until she got what she wanted. The word failure wasn’t in her vocabulary. Only success stamped in large letters ran through her mind whenever she stumbled upon any resistance.

Damn, he admired this woman.

“Go to hell!” Bree Hansen bit out as fury whipped her into a tornado of clashing emotions.

“I’m already there.” His rich, baritone voice ripped through the strained atmosphere, tearing it to shreds.

She gasped, the tiny sound catching in the back of her throat. Shadows of grief loomed in his dark eyes, twisting a knife in her middle. It turned her wrath into sorrow for the man as nothing else could.

“Nana?” she whispered, distracted from her anger. A faint waft of his sandalwood after-shave ticked her senses, stirring her blood.

“Vinnie.”

An ache, hot and blinding, spread from her chest to fan out in all directions. This man had suffered more than anyone over Vinnie’s death, even more than she, Vinnie’s wife. Guilt riddled Bree like bullets piercing paper, leaving big gaping holes in their wake.

“I’m so sorry, Nick,” she whispered, wishing she could wash away his misery.

Looking her fill, she skimmed over his neatly styled, chestnut brown hair to scan Nick’s strong, handsome features. His broad forehead topped his squarish face. Defined cheekbones flanked a nose broken in a high school football game, the slight bump just below the bridge adding character and strength.

“Yeah, so am I.” His striking, chocolate brown eyes echoed his pain, layer upon layer of it. His firm, masculine lips thinned into a straight line now.

Staring at his mouth she recalled one time, so long ago, when she’d dared to return his stolen kiss. He’d tasted of the sweet, heady wine they’d shared, and heat, wonderful glorious fiery passion.

If only… Flustered at her wayward thoughts, she dropped her inspection to his broad shoulders, wide chest, and bulging biceps covered in a blue shirt. Rock solid, sturdy, she thought, knowing, without a doubt, she’d always battle this powerful, gripping attraction.

The sharp contrast between her late husband and Nick reared its head as it usually did. Nick, strong, supportive, and always there when either Sydney or she needed him. And Vinnie, younger than herself, immature, weak… She’d always compared the two men with Vinnie coming up lacking in so many ways. Years of disgrace bathed her.

Clinging to the remnants of her dignity, she tried to focus on the issue at hand. Full custody. The recalled demand splashed Bree like a bucket of icy water, jarring her from her stupor.

Renewed temper ignited in her middle. She welcomed the flames of indignation. “How dare you try to take Sydney away from me, Nick. That’s low.”

She suddenly realized just how close she stood to Nick as he perched on the desk. His thick muscular thighs, in blue dress pants, veed out with her planted between them.

He shifted. His left inner thigh brushed her right outer thigh. Heat scorched her where he’d touched. She jerked her gaze to his. Did he feel it, too? Was it there burning in his eyes, searing her just as his unintentional stroke had? Or was it his usual storm brewing just below the surface?

“Nick, listen to me,” she said, placing a hand on his upper arm. She felt the ripple of muscle as he flinched. Rejected, she dropped her hand, and then backed up. He rose, striding to the window, creating space and distance. His broad, stiff back faced her.

“She’s a part of me. She’s family.”

She’s all I have left, Bree heard his unspoken words. They tugged at her heart.

He sighed, long and loud. “All right, I’ll settle for joint custody. I don’t want to rip Sydney away from you. I just want more time with her.”

“You’re asking me to be a part-time mother. Do you think I’d give up my own daughter?” She winced at her fear-laced tone, cursing herself for allowing any sign of weakness to shine through.

He spun around, startling Bree. “Isn’t that what you are right now? A part-time mom.”

A well of frustration and how unfair the world was nearly choked her. “I
have
to work. And, come to think of it, so do you.”

His lips thinned into a straight line again. “If I have to I’ll take early retirement from the force.”

Bree clasped her hands. “And I’ll go to hell and back to fight for Sydney.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt there’d be a fight, but I have more resources than you do.”

The constant nugget of dread that resided in her center for the past five and a half years now seemed to expand to boulder-size terror. With her daughter’s well-being paramount, Bree lashed out at him. “Judges in your pocket, Nick? I thought you were more of a man than that. I’d be the last one to think you, Sergeant ‘By The Book’ Carletti, would stoop so low, be so damned underhanded.”

That struck a chord, she noted, as red flags slashed across his cheeks. A hint of satisfaction slid into her, barely warming her chilled, numb body.

A muscle jumped along his clenched jaw. “Rest assured I don’t operate on your level.”

A fistful of hurt slammed into her belly, stealing her breath away. The hot sting of tears smarted the backs of her eyes. She blinked several times, holding them at bay. How could she ever convince him he’d been wrong about her from the very beginning? How could she ever gain his respect?

No matter how many times she pled her case Nick would never trust her, Bree realized hollowly now as she stared at his uncompromising stance. The rigid set of his shoulders and balled up hands spoke volumes.

There was only one way to set the record straight. She balked at the solution; she’d put Sydney in danger. No matter what, she’d protect her daughter, at any cost, even her soul. Her secret would die with her, the terrible truth buried in the casket inside her heart.

In order to ensure the lid stayed firmly on the facts, she couldn’t risk the exposure of a custody battle.

Taking a shaky breath, she said, “I’ve tried to work out a suitable arrangement for you to see Sydney.”

“It’s been nowhere near to suitable. Four, maybe five, hours in tiny increments a week, if that. You have some nerve suggesting you’ve been generous. Hell, even the babysitter sees Sydney more than I do.”

“I’ve been—”

“Reasonable, is that what you were going to say?” He listed the many times he’d call to talk to Sydney or try to arrange more visits with her only to be turned away or shut out.

As he made an impassioned point, Bree noted his large, long-fingered square hands hacking the air. Every slight movement, every change of expression, every shift of his dark eyes only endeared him to her more, stabbing at her treacherous heart.
He loves her just as much as I do.

He finally ended. She rallied her defenses, saying, “You will not take my daughter away from me.” The vow ignited her purpose, fueling her undying love for her precious little girl.

He arched an eyebrow, baiting her. “You think?”

A mixture of fury, frustration, and fear nibbled at her conscience. It broke her staunch conviction she could change his mind just by talking, jarring her usually unshakable confidence. “That’s what you’ve been after for a long time, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice throbbing with pain. “For Sydney’s sake, I beg you not to go through with this.”

Granite-like features answered her. Nick’s stony expression gave nothing away, probably from years of honing it to perfection in his line of work.

But was that something entirely different she read in his dark eyes? Was it a certain grimness that spoke of hating what he was doing? Whatever she thought she witnessed vanished an instant later.

Worry gnawed at her middle, tying her in knots. Bree dug in her pocket for her keys. Metal jangled against metal. “I guess there’s no way around my having to hire a lawyer. I don’t know why Gil assumed we could work this out by ourselves.”

“He doesn’t agree with the custody suit.”

Shocked and confused by Nick’s confession, Bree dropped her keys. They hit the carpet with a dull jingle. On trembling legs, she moved toward him, stopping when she stood a foot away. His body heat washed over her. A hazy fog of longing tickled her senses. “I don’t understand. Isn’t he representing you?” Her question came out on a whispery note.

“He highly recommends another avenue altogether,” Nick said softly, stepping closer, causing her temperature to rise drastically. “One, he assures me, will be best for everyone involved.” His warm breath fanned her face, sending tingles down her spine.

She’d nearly forgotten what it was like to be this close, this intimate with him. Part of her loved the exhilarating way her body sprang to life. Part of her hated her traitorous being.

Frowning, she said, “I don’t follow.”

“Marriage.”

That answer, short and direct, drained the color from her face. The room began to sway around her. She closed her eyes for a moment, praying for strength, for composure.

Large, strong hands circled her waist, steadying her, scorching her. She brought her hands up to shove at his shoulders. Instead, she found herself clinging to his broad chest, hanging on to the alluring stability he offered. She curled her fingers, grasping his shirt. His heartbeat increased, matching hers.

Speechless and dizzy, she leaned her forehead on his rock solid shoulder, seeking a safe haven. The warmth of his body and his sandalwood after-shave mingled together to overwhelm her fragile senses. Memories flooded in her mind, memories of when she’d first met this man.

That long ago spring afternoon rushed back. Fresh cut grass had sweetened the already crisp, clean air. A slight breeze had ruffled her then shoulder-length hair as she stood on his doorstep. He’d answered on her first knock as if he’d been anxiously awaiting her arrival.

As she faced him, a tiny current of electricity zinged through her blood. His bold stare, filled with male appreciation, seemed to strip her of her simple lavender wedding dress.

Her weak smile tugged at one corner of her mouth, betraying her nervousness. Without so much as a word, he ushered her in. His disapproval smacked her then. Was it because she was already with child or because she was clipping Vinnie’s wings?

Vinnie rescued her quickly, introduced them, and then rushed her to the lovely sun room where they planned to conduct the short ceremony.

Sweet, dear Nana ordered Nick to gather a bouquet of flowers in the garden for Bree. In less than five minutes, he returned with a fistful of lilacs, her favorite flower. He held the hastily plucked arrangement out to her.

Grateful at his thoughtfulness, she accepted with tears in her eyes. His warm hand brushed hers and they both jerked at the charged touch. Gasping for breath, she stared at him in dazed wonder. His sandalwood after-shave mixed with the delicate lilac fragrance, entwining the two scents forever in her mind.

Everything had seemed to blur for Bree after that until, one striking moment when, the justice of the peace asked Vinnie and her to face each other.

Bree had glanced fleetingly over Vinnie’s right shoulder, briefly encountering Nick’s probing, questioning gaze. She had looked again, this time longer and more intently. Her heart had whispered a single word that echoed through her mind: Forbidden.

Now, she dragged her guilt ridden thoughts back to the moment. Nick pressed his cheek to her hair, his hot, ragged breathing stirring little wisps. His chest rose and fell quickly, enticing her as the motion brought the hard muscles in contact with her aching breasts.

Nick’s fingers bit into her back, his thumbs digging into her waist just under her rib cage. But the pressure hadn’t cut off her air supply. His reply had.

Marriage, he’d said. How tempting, how tantalizing, Bree thought, wishing it had come ages ago without prompting, without the need to rectify their undeclared war on each other. Did she dare?

She opened her eyes and tilted her head back to look up at him once again. Awestruck, she stared at him.

He frowned down at her. Tiny lines fanned out from between his dark eyebrows, making her long to smooth them away, to soothe his troubled soul. His stare narrowed, probing hers.

Bree saw astonishment reflected in the dark depths and something more, something intangible shifted, and then expanded.

Closing her eyes for several long seconds, she opened them again, this time catching sight of his firm, masculine mouth. A part of her urged her on. If she stood on tip-toe…

Berating herself silently, she forced her gaze back to his. Banked desire singed her blood, kindling her own passion until she could no longer run from the lie that haunted her.

A tiny pocket of her heart opened, allowing her to look inside and release the damning kernel of information she’d tucked away so long ago: She’d always been far more attracted to the father than the son.

“Of course I told Gil he was crazy.”

Nick’s scornful tone penetrated Bree’s foggy mind, forcing her to tune into her rational side. Common sense took over. “Of course,” she bit out, jerking away from his hold. “You wouldn’t dream of putting Sydney’s happiness and peace of mind first in all of this, now would you?”

“That’s exactly what I am doing.” The censor radiating from him cut her to the quick.

Dragging in a deep, cleansing breath, Bree concentrated on the disastrous outcome if he won. He could not discover the damning truth about her.

Pushing aside the fresh wave of fear, she rallied her wits. “You may very well dislike me, but she doesn’t. As much as it annoys you, she loves me. And she loves you. We’re all she has left. Please don’t tear her world apart any more than it already has been.”