The Academic Bride: Billionaire Marriage Brokers Book One (9 page)

Nick laughed. “You did great.” He patted her hand and then pulled away. She looked down and wondered why he didn’t hold her hand in private, when they’d been practically glued together all night. His constant physical contact didn’t get any easier to think through as the night wore on, but it did become natural. According to their “Love Language Test,” they both showed affection—er,
appreciation
—through physical touch. Patting her hand was nice, but Janel thought the gesture was a bit underwhelming.

Perhaps the handholding and caught-up-in-each-other moments were just for show on Nick’s part.

Wait, on Nick’s part?

Weren’t they for show on her part too? Not if she was honest with herself. She’d enjoyed every moment of being held by Nick and let herself be a part of him and his life for the night.

She felt silly thinking there was something more in his attention than giving the right image to their marriage. Of course, that’s all he wanted. He’d asked her to become a buffer between him and
them
. Well, she’d buffered, and her pride felt every blow.

It took another hit as Nick removed lace and leather. When he was done, he shrugged off the jacket and wadded everything inside.

“I’m sorry about the costume. I’ll do better next time.”

Nick placed the bundle on the floor. “Thanks. But, it was as much my fault as yours, I should have communicated better.”

It was nice of him to let her off the hook. He’d been such a good sport about the costume—really, he had—that it only made her feel worse. She played with her ring. “We’ll get the hang of things.”

“I’m sure we will.”

Nick’s voice was casual, lacking the strain from earlier. Janel decided he wasn’t angry with her and would probably let the whole thing go. She’d learned a valuable lesson, and planned on putting it to use before the next event.

Janell tipped her head from side to side, trying to loosen the knots in her neck. Since they had about twenty minutes before they got home, she reached up and started pulling the pins out of her hair. Clair didn’t believe in hairspray, but she must own stock in the bobby pin company. There were enough pins in Janel’s up-do that she’d be stopped and strip-searched by airport security. She lifted her hands to her hair.

“What are you doing?” asked Nick. His eyes were wide as if she were doing something improper.

Janel wanted to put him at ease. “I think Clair has found a new way to torture people.” She pulled a pin out and held it up. “Death by bobby pins. Here, will you hold these?”

Nick slowly opened his palm and, one by one, she laid the pins inside.

Just before they pulled into the drive, her dark cinnamon hair finally came loose and tumbled around her bare shoulders in large curls. “Thanks.” She scooped the pins from his hand, her fingertips brushing his palm. The air grew heavy and warm as she became aware of the way Nick watched her. His broad chest fell with each quick breath.

Before she could meet his gaze, her door opened and the driver said, “Miss?”

She took the exit, hoping the crisp air would cool her cheeks.

They walked to the front door, keeping space between them as the wheels of the limo crunched down the gravel drive.

Nick entered his code, and the lights automatically came on. Janel lifted her skirts and headed quickly for her suite. They didn’t talk as they climbed the stairs and crossed the sitting room.

When she got to her door, Nick softly called her name. She half turned toward him, afraid that if she faced him fully, she’d do or say something that would give away her internal fight over professionalism versus digging her fingers into Nick’s hair and pulling him close.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

She curtsied and then blushed, thinking it was stupid and formal, but in a dress as amazing as this, it was completely natural. “Thank you for taking me to my first ball.”

He nodded, and she gave a little wave before closing her door behind her. As she sank against the wood, she realized she’d been holding her breath.

Chapter 16

Nick changed into pajamas and climbed into bed. The evening exceeded his expectations. If he hadn’t been married to Janel, he would have kissed her at least a half dozen times. He had a beautiful wife, whom he was attracted to at every turn, and he was afraid to kiss her, afraid of ruining what they had, which was sweet. He enjoyed their texting banter and notes, looked forward to it when he got up in the morning. Why would he mess that up?

Punching his pillow and rolling onto his side, he mentally berated himself for his cowardice. The fact of the matter was that he entered into a contract for a business wife, not a love match. He needed to remember the purpose of his marriage. It wasn’t to find a soul mate; it was to find a partner. There was a huge difference between the two.

Wasn’t there?

Janel held up her end of the bargain. She was brilliant at keeping women off him. Of course, in order to send the message, she was often close enough he could smell her vanilla shampoo or feel her skin brush his.

Holding Janel was instinctive.

Rolling to his other side, he felt a surge of anger as he thought about Darrin’s behavior. It was obvious the guy made Janel uncomfortable, and the way he held her face made Nick want to shove him into the seafood buffet.

After kicking off the blankets and tossing a few more times, Nick decided sleep was not going to happen. He needed to calm down, so he got up to raid Janel’s cookie jar. As he rounded to corner of the gathering room, he saw a light on in the kitchen.
So much for trying not to wake up Janel
.

She was sitting on the counter in a pair of black spandex shorts and a pink tank top, holding a pint of ice cream wrapped in a dishtowel on her lap. Her hair was still down, brushing her bare shoulders, and he remembered the excruciating pleasure that came from watching her slowly remove the pins to free it in the soft light of the limo.

She smiled shyly when she saw him in the doorway. “Ice cream?”

“What flavor?” He opened the silverware drawer and grabbed a spoon.

“Mint brownie.”

He groaned. “You know all my weaknesses.”

She laughed. “I highly doubt it.”

He stood in front of her and dipped his spoon into the pint, taking a generous portion. She had her glasses back on, and he decided he liked the way they perched on her face.

“Hey.” She pulled the carton close and gave him a dirty look.

He rested his free hand on the counter next to her as he finished off his spoonful and reached for more.

She let him have another taste and then quickly downed three small bites.

“Not so fast,” he warned, teasing her by moving his spoon closer to the pint and then pulling it away.

“I have to, or you’ll eat it all.”

He reached again, but she pulled the carton behind her. He reached farther and soon they were teasing and wrestling for the next spoonful. Janel giggled when he tickled her side. She turned quickly and their faces were close enough that he could feel her breath on his lips. Neither of them moved, and then, with each heartbeat, they drew closer together.

He didn’t want her to back away this time, to break the spell. They weren’t in a crowded ballroom or the back of a limousine. They were in his kitchen, his home, where it was perfectly natural for a husband to kiss his wife—with or without a contract. He reached up and traced his thumb across her jaw, giving her one last chance to tell him no.

She closed her eyes and sighed, tipping her head into his hand. His spoon clattered as it hit the counter and Nick brushed his fingers up her arm to her neck. Janel dropped the ice cream behind her and hesitantly threaded her hands into his hair. As their lips met, she pulled him closer.

He deepened the kiss, the flavors of chocolate and mint feeding the fire building deep inside. He kissed her jaw and her neck before coming home to her lips. He couldn’t get enough of her. She was all the security and acceptance of family, the challenge of a new product, and the excitement of jumping out of an airplane, rolled into one beautiful woman.

Her reception made him powerful, strong, and yet he wanted nothing more than to protect her and hold her close, to show her the feelings pulsing inside of him. When they pulled apart, gasping for breath, barely an inch separated their mouths, and yet it was too much. Nick swallowed and Janel brushed her fingertips across his goatee and then jerked.

“I feel cold,” she said.

Nick couldn’t imagine what she was talking about, he was burning up inside.

Janel’s eyes grew wide, and she pushed him back. Jumping off the counter she twisted to check her backside. “Oh, man.”

Melted ice cream covered the counter and her shorts. Nick raised an eyebrow as he considered ways to clean her off.

Janel read his look, and her cheeks took on that pink color he adored. She swatted at his arm, and ran to the linen drawer. Grabbing several cloths, she doused one in the sink, wrung it out, and tossed it to him. “You, wipe off the counter.”

Nick chuckled. “I knew things were getting warm in here, but ...”

“Ha, ha.” Janel threw the towel she used on her shorts in the sink with a sigh. She bit her lip and lowered her eyebrows. One of her tank top straps slipped down over her shoulder, and Nick forced his eyes away from her skin.

“I’ve got to change, and then I should probably get some sleep.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and refused to make eye contact.

Nick sucked in. “Did I do something wrong?”

Janel pulled the strap back in place as she shook her head. “I don’t want you to think that I—” She took a deep breath, “—that I expect more out of this marriage than what’s in the contract.”

Dropping the rag on the counter, Nick mentally kicked himself. He may have been open to more than just the contract, but she had a plan. In less than a year she’d be gone, off on her adventure and starting the life she’d always dreamed of. His dreams of family were just that: his.

He felt things shift and looked around the room. He loved his house, loved it as much for the future family he pictured sharing it with, as anything. Tonight, for just a brief moment, he allowed himself to believe that he’d found the person to build all that with.

He shook his head. “I got caught up in the moment.”

Janel’s shoulders dropped. “That’s not what—"

Nick cut her off. “It won’t happen again.”

She nodded once and left the room. He listened to her light footsteps, and then waited another five minutes before following her up the stairs and falling into his bed where he tossed and turned until his alarm went off.

Chapter 17

A week later, Janel sat at her desk, balancing the household account. The numbers weren’t at all interesting, and she banged her head against the wood, just once and just hard enough that hopefully she knocked some sense into her brain.

For a whole week Nick had been avoiding her, and they were back to communicating through text with a rare phone call thrown in. She knew he was busy—every moment on their calendar was filled with green appointments—but she felt as though she had been pushed aside.

They’d had such an enchanting time at the ball. Could she use that word, enchanting? Sure she could. She’d been in a gown and he’d been a gentleman.

And then that kiss.

That kiss made her cheeks flame every time she thought about it. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way his hair felt between her fingers, or the way he held her as though she was breakable though his passion was unmistakable.

She dropped her forehead to the desk with a thunk and left it there. After the kiss, she’d tried to tell him that she wasn’t kissing him to get something out of him. She’d noticed that in people at the party. They played up to him, complimented him, and then asked for a donation to their charitable cause or for the opportunity to pitch an idea.

She wasn’t like those people.

Okay, technically Nick’s money was the reason she entered into the marriage. But it wasn’t like she was after his house, business, or investment. In fact, she wasn’t even sure if he had investments. She’d contracted for a finite sum, a sum she worked for. She got a paycheck, but that wasn’t what she saw when she looked at him. What she saw was the way his eyes brightened when she blushed or how he anticipated her needs and met them without making her feel indebted. She kissed him because she was attracted to him and had feelings that she hadn’t identified, but for some reason felt safe enough to share. Her explanation had gone completely wrong, and she’d offended him.

She picked her head up and rubbed her bleary eyes. It was no use. She needed to see him again. He didn’t want to see her—at least, that’s what a hundred green appointments on their calendar told her.

Her phone alarm went off, warning her that it was time to leave for class. She reluctantly rubbed at the red spot on her forehead before putting her phone in her purse and slinging it over her shoulder. She made her way to the garage, grabbing a jacket from the coat closet before climbing into her junker. When she turned the key nothing happened, not even a
whir-whir
.

She bit back a curse. Of course this would happen on a test day. Any other day of the semester and she could call in sick. If she didn’t administer the test today, the whole class schedule would be thrown off, and there was always at least one student who would complain to the department head. With the paperwork for her project in review, the last thing she needed was a complaint.

“No, not today.” She tried again with the same result.

As she offered up a prayer for help, the garage door went up. Janel whipped around to see Nick’s car pull in. Her jaw dropped. He wasn’t supposed to be home at this hour. In fact, his calendar said he had a meeting with his HR director, Robert. She knew because she poured over his calendar like a teen girl over Cosmo. She looked up, silently asking God if this was His doing.

Nick climbed out of the car, his phone pressed to his ear, and looking every bit as wonderful as the night they’d kissed. Janel let out a wistful sigh. He was clean-shaven, and for a brief moment Janel wondered what it felt like to kiss him without the goatee. He caught sight of her and forced a smile. Great. She’d been downgraded to the same smile as
Charli
.

Janel climbed out of her car and leaned against the door.

“Rob, I love that idea.” Nick put his thumb over the receiver and raised his eyebrows. “Everything okay?”

“My car won’t start.”

“You have class, right?”

“In—” she checked her phone. “—fifteen minutes.”

He nodded quickly. “You can take one of mine.” Nick jerked his head toward the other cars in the garage. Giving her an encouraging smile, he moved his thumb aside. “Are you sure about that?” he asked as he walked in the house.

Janel looked around the spacious garage. Besides her junker and Nick’s luxury vehicle, there was an SUV and a convertible. Biting her lip, she fought against the panic swelling up inside her. She couldn’t just take one of his cars. They were expensive and shiny. She folded her arms and shook her head.

Janel took out her phone and considered calling a taxi. She bit her lip: by the time they got here, she’d be late enough that the class would automatically dismiss.

“How will that affect overall morale?” Nick came back into the garage. He stopped when he saw Janel hadn’t move. Shaking his head and smiling, he took Janel by the elbow and pulled her to the SUV. “What about sick days?” he said into the phone as he opened the door and motioned for her to get inside. “Uh-huh.”

Janel climbed in. If it had been anyone else, she wouldn’t have accepted the offer. With Nick, she knew he wasn’t trying to get rid of her by putting her in his car; he was helping. Even though he was in the middle of multitasking, he prioritized her needs and took care of them. She loved that he wasn’t making a big deal about it or making her feel indebted to him. None of this “if I scratch your back” business.

  Nick tucked the phone against his shoulder, grabbed the seat belt, and leaned across her to click it in place. Janel felt her pulse quicken as his scent washed over her. Nick put the key in the ignition and the car came to life. He pulled the phone away from his ear and leaned back, the smell of his shaving cream hanging in the air. “She’s yours until you get yours fixed or ...” He glanced over his shoulder at her rust bucket and turned back, lifting one side of his mouth in a crooked grin. “... have it recycled into something useful.” He used the same teasing tone he’d had when trying to steal her ice cream.

Janel’s breath caught, and the air between them charged with memories of the last time they were this close. Janel tipped her head, considering Nick’s nearness and the way it made her feel.

“Hello? Nick, are you there?” Robert’s voice interrupted their space.

Nick stepped back. “Have a good class.”

He was back on the phone before Janel could tell him “thank you”.

She carefully backed the SUV out of the garage and pushed the button to put the door down. Once she was on a main road, she hit the gas and raced to campus. The surge of adrenaline spiking under her skin had nothing to do with her speed and everything to do with Nick. Being that close to Nick, if only for a moment, made it impossible for her to deny her feelings. She wanted what they had shared over ice cream. It wasn’t only the steamy kisses she desired. It was Nick and his goodness that melted every bit of her resistance.

He was such a good man, everything she’d ever needed or wanted and didn’t know she was looking for. He took care of her without making her feel incapable. It wasn’t that she couldn’t buckle her seatbelt; it was that he’d wanted to do something for her, something that said he cared. She couldn’t deny it any longer. She was falling for him, and she needed to act on it before they grew further apart.

Class was a blur as half her brain worked over the problem of how to show Nick she cared when he was determined to avoid her. Thankfully, she’d taught the same chapters every semester and could do it on autopilot.

As soon as class was over, she jumped back in Nick’s SUV and drove home, hoping to catch him.

The sliding garage door revealed his absence. Janel dragged her feet up the stairs to her suite. Flopping onto her bed, she stared up at the ceiling. There had to be some way to connect with Nick. Some way to let him know she was willing to explore more between them. He could keep the money and the stuff—she wanted the man.