Victor grew to love the boy with a fierceness he had for neither of his other children. He felt guilty about this but as he’d been busy wiping the scum from his skin, the filth from under his fingernails, erecting a life of privilege and giving them everything they’d whined to have, they never, not once, said thank you. They never, not once, did anything but ask for more. This was partially his fault. He wanted them to have everything he didn’t. And he wasn’t around that often, he had not been a good father. He knew this.
Victor Roberts was also not a good man nor was he a kind man, he was a dangerous man. This was out of necessity and this was what Nate would have become.
But Victor loved his children, as hard as it was sometimes. He adored his wife. But the best thing he’d ever done, outside of marrying Laura, was bringing Nate into their lives.
And once he did he made up his mind that his fortune, his business, everything he had would go to Nate. Victor would take care of Jeffrey and Danielle, most certainly, they’d never want for anything. But he knew Nate would not let Victor’s hard work, his sacrifice and the black marks he’d scored onto his own soul go to waste.
The minute Nate’s adoption was legal (after a few strings were pulled, favours were called in and palms were greased), Victor Roberts went legitimate. He would not saddle Nate with a glorified life of crime. Nate had become a gangster’s boy at eleven, he would be his own man, a gentleman, at twenty-one.
And thus Nate’s new life led him through different challenges: posh schools where Jeffrey made sure all the boys knew Nate’s background, this also kept Nate’s instincts honed as he’d been called out for nasty fistfights constantly just for the other boys to test their meddle against streetwise Nate (the other boys always lost, soundly); Cambridge where Jeffrey was thrown out for terrible marks; country clubs where Danielle tried to get Nate to take her virginity, this he did
not
do, instead a lifeguard did it while she convinced herself Nate was watching in jealousy but Jeffrey was watching and laughing; Sunday rugby matches where Nate, to Laura and Victor’s delight, always led his team to victory.
All the while Victor groomed Nate for his future. Victor did this alongside Jeffrey who took no interest and eventually just took himself off and was given a nominal post that came with a very good office where he could seduce a variety of women.
Victor took his own cunning and tapped his new genius son’s bright mind and together they found legitimacy and respectability, made masses of money and forged a relationship closer than blood.
Victor knew Nathaniel’s future was bright. He’d taken great pains to assure it. Nathaniel would make a good marriage if he’d simply stop sampling all the skirt that threw itself at him, Laura was getting distressed. He’d have beautiful children. He’d live in a beautiful home. He’d always take care of Jeffrey and Danielle out of duty and respect to Laura and Victor. And he’d be certain that Victor’s legacy was secure.
This Victor thought was assured.
But Nate never forgot where he came from, never forgot who he was, never forgot
what
he was, never trusted what he had and always knew he didn’t deserve it.
So he worked hard, harder than any man, to keep it, build it and make it strong.
So it would never go away.
So he’d never go back.
So it would never destroy him.
And he was beginning to feel his success.
And then came Lily Jacobs.
Nate and Lily
Years later, it was the month of May and Nate was twenty-eight, Lily was twenty-two...
“We’re late,” Victor grumbled.
“I know,” Nate replied nonchalantly, lifting his chin in an arrogant gesture to the driver of the Rolls who was watching them walk down the crowded, tourist-clogged pavement outside Harrods.
“Your mother is going to skin us alive.”
Nate wanted to laugh at this ridiculous comment but he didn’t because Nate McAllister rarely laughed.
Laura Roberts didn’t have a violent bone in her body. She did have a fierce temper but Nate had only seen it twice in the sixteen years he knew her. And both times, the minute it blew, she was spent. Both times, it lasted less than ten minutes. She was the kindest, gentlest, most even-tempered creature he’d ever been honoured to know. That didn’t mean, however, that she didn’t have a steely determination when she wanted one of her children to do something they didn’t want to do, she just rarely got her way.
“She’ll get over it once she sees your anniversary present,” Nate noted just for something to say. He knew Victor was worried about the present. If there was nothing to like about the man who had become his father, and Nate thought that there was although many people disagreed, one had to admire him for his devotion to his wife.
Though an anniversary present for Laura was a challenge.
What did you give a woman who had everything, wanted for nothing and would have lived in a hovel happily if she simply had her husband with her?
“You’d make her night if you asked Georgia to marry you this evening,” Victor remarked.
He walked beside Victor to the waiting Rolls as Bennett, Victor’s chauffer pulled open the door to allow them entry. Nate had better things to do than be on this errand with Victor, many better, more pressing even urgent things to do.
But Victor had asked and no matter what Victor asked, Nate gave. That was the deal in Nate’s mind though not Victor’s). Nate owed Victor his life.
People were staring at the two men who obviously, by the look of their tailored suits, stylish silk ties, expensive shoes and gleaming watches, not to mention the chauffer-driven Rolls Royce, actually
shopped
at Harrods rather than visited as a tourist attraction.
Then again people often stared at Nate and most of these people were women.
He was uncommonly, one could even say
impossibly
, handsome. Very tall, lean, narrow-hipped, broad-shouldered with a wealth of thick, black hair that had just the barest blue sheen to make it interesting. He had strong features, a firm jaw, powerful cheekbones and a sensual lower lip. He also had glittering, dark eyes that although he didn’t know it (and wouldn’t have cared if he did), were the avid topic of many women he knew. Fights even broke out, were his eyes so grey they were nearly black or were they so blue they were nearly black? After much discussion, no answer was deemed acceptable so the battle raged on.
Nate’s sensual lips thinned at Victor’s words. He knew Laura wanted him to marry and settle down, give her grandchildren. But he was also relatively certain she didn’t want him to do it with Georgia.
“I’m not asking Georgia to marry me,” Nate stated firmly.
“Why not?” Victor asked and then went on. “She’s a damned fine woman.”
She was not a damned fine woman. She was a she-cat. She was nearly as bad as Danielle, if that could be credited. He’d caught Georgia snapping her birth control pills into the toilet, so he’d meticulously worn condoms. Then he’d caught her putting holes in the condoms, so he’d stopped having sex with her altogether and began the weary process of scraping her off.
He should never have dipped his foot in the family pool. Georgia was Laura and Victor’s best friends’ daughter. Nate even liked Georgia’s parents, had known them for years.
They all had high hopes but Georgia was history.
She’d worked hard at gaining Nate’s attention, she was leggy, slender with beautiful auburn hair and she’d always been somewhat amusing in a dry, catty way.
Therefore, Nate had rewarded her for her dogged pursuit of him. And she had rewarded him for rewarding her. As good as it was with her, and it was good, it wasn’t going to last a lifetime.
Nate knew that innately. She had too much venom in her and she let it show too often. Nate had no patience for venomous women, especially those who grew up having everything, wanting for nothing and having no reason to be the slightest bit harsh considering the privileged life they’d led.
Nate didn’t know what he wanted but whatever it was, it certainly was
not
Georgia.
He was saved from answering Victor when he spied a youth wearing a grey hooded sweatshirt, the hood worn up even though it was a warm day. The boy was slouching down the pavement, head bowed, hands in the front pocket of the sweatshirt, his head swinging this way and that, looking for his mark.
Nate’s guard, already on alert, always on alert, went into overdrive.
Nate’s eyes narrowed as he watched the youth and Victor started to get into the Rolls. Then, as expected, the boy darted at his target and Nate heard a woman’s outraged cry.
“Hey!” she yelled.
He watched the boy snatch the woman’s purse, his body tensing for action.
And then his eyes moved to the woman and, uncharacteristically, he froze.
“Hey! He stole my purse! Stop him, he stole my purse!” she shouted.
Nate vaguely registered she was an American tourist. Nate also absently noticed that no one moved to assist.
In that brief moment in time, Nate was too busy drinking in the vision that was her, he himself didn’t move a muscle.
She was tall, incredibly tall.
And curvy, delectably curvy.
She had the most unusual coloured hair. Hair that he knew from vast experience living in a house with Laura and Danielle for years came through a supremely talented and expensive stylist’s hands.
She had an exquisite face, flawless skin and a bearing that was extraordinary. She had been given a wide berth around her even on the crowded pavement. Not because she was screaming her head off but instead because she was majestic, radiant, elegant…
Untouchable.
In a stupor from simply looking at her, the boy with her purse charged right by Nate.
Not
in a stupor, she realised no one was going to help her, gave up screaming and charged right after the boy.
At the noise, Victor turned away from the car and Nate shifted to watch in astonishment as she deftly and agilely dodged the crowd, her long legs a match for the short boy. Then Nate watched in stunned surprise as she jumped onto the thief’s back with a graceful leap.
Everyone stared in shock but no one lifted a finger except a few started to snap photographs.
“Give me back my purse, you thug!” she shouted, wrapping her long legs around her prey, one arm around his neck while she slapped him around the head with the other hand.
The thief staggered back then he staggered with intent and slammed her against the side of the building. Her head snapped back and cracked against the stone so loudly Nate could hear it from where he stood twenty paces away.
At the sound Nate jerked out of his stupor and forged forward.
“Nathaniel…” Victor called but Nate ignored him.
Regardless of the blow, she wasn’t done fighting and had not eased her grip.
“Give it ba –” she started to scream but didn’t finish.
The boy doubled in half and flipped her over. She lost her hold and went flying over his head, landing on her back on the pavement with a sickening thud.
The boy didn’t take a single step though he started to do so. With one leg lifted to make good his escape, Nate grasped his sweatshirt in a clenched fist and pulled him back. With a violent jerk Nate yanked him off his feet and around towards the side of the building and let him go, brutally slamming him against the stone wall beside a huge display window.
Swiftly Nate’s hand settled on the thief’s throat, squeezing savagely and lifting until the boy was on his toes.
“Drop the bag,” he ordered in a voice cold as ice with an edge akin to that of a razor.
The thief immediately dropped the bag.
“I… I’ll call the police.” Her low, rich American voice, a voice that had a strange twang to it, stuttered from beside him as she cautiously leaned forward to grab her bag. Nate noted she wasn’t moving cautiously because of fear but because she was hurt.
Nate turned to watch her, her head was bent as she searched through her bag and then she pulled out a mobile and lifted her eyes to him.
The moment they hit his, Nate froze again.
Her eyes were simply indescribable. A pale blue that was bottomless, inescapable, the irises rimmed by a smoky midnight that was so alluring, he thought for a moment he’d leaned toward her, he was so drawn to her eyes.
They widened upon looking at him almost as if she recognised him.
A gasping noise came from the thug.
Nate didn’t move. He stared in frozen fascination as she stole closer.
Without taking her unbelievable eyes from his, her hand settled gently on the forearm that was holding the thief against the wall. When it did fire shot up his arm from where she touched him.
“You’re choking him,” she whispered.
His hold loosened and her hand dropped. With effort he tore his eyes from hers and dropped his hand only to grasp a handful of the thug’s sweatshirt at his throat, jerk him forward a few inches and slam him viciously back against the wall.