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The soft hairs at her hairline were several shades lighter than her current hair color and he wondered why she felt she had to change anything about herself when she was already perfect. One day, he found himself thinking, he’d like to see what she looked like with her natural hair color.
What was he thinking? He wasn’t going to see her again after tonight.
His thoughts cycled back to his ex-girlfriend, to how furious he’d been to find Jill with Rocco. Then again, if he was being honest with himself, he’d been angry and frustrated for longer than that. For weeks, months, as Jill made more and more excuses for why she wasn’t ready to get engaged, as she cancelled one weekend together after another, as she committed to seeing his family at various events and then backed out at the last minute.
He’d assumed he’d be furious at Jill all night long. But since meeting Nicola, he hadn’t thought about Jill once until now. And, amazingly, with Nicola sleeping on his lap and her hands in his, Marcus’s anger was on a slow simmer rather than a rolling boil.
Sex was supposed to be his medicine tonight, not soft, sweet Nicola.
And yet, instead of being even more frustrated by the turn his evening of mindless sex had taken, a smile was on his face as he leaned back against the couch, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.
Chapter Four
Nicola was so warm. She felt so safe. Safer than she’d felt in years, when she’d still lived in her parents’ house rather than in hotels throughout the world.
But she could tell without opening her eyes that she wasn’t in her childhood bed. For one, her bed didn’t smell like leather. Her pillow wasn’t made of hard muscle. And there hadn’t ever been anyone who had held her hands so gently in her bed.
She swallowed hard as she realized what must have happened. She’d propositioned a gorgeous man at a nightclub last night…and then she’d promptly fallen asleep on him.
Oh God, how stupid had she been? Had she actually thought she was taking control of her life by going to that club to pick up a stranger?
In the cold light of day that she hadn’t wanted to think about last night, she faced facts: After leaving Marcus this morning, she was going to have to deal with the fallout from being hooked up with a strange man in the press.
The irony that she hadn’t actually done a darn thing with him—not even kiss him—wouldn’t matter to anyone.
And yet, as she lifted her lashes just enough to look down at herself, she saw that he’d laid her down on a soft leather couch and covered her with a thick blanket. She wiggled her toes. A surprised smile moved onto her lips as she realized that while he’d left her dress on, he’d obviously thought to slip off her heels so that she’d sleep more comfortably.
She couldn’t remember the last time a stranger had taken such good care of her.
Sure, people were always trying to do her favors, but ninety-nine percent of the time it was because they wanted something.
Marcus hadn’t taken a single thing from her. Instead, he’d given her the best night’s sleep she’d had in ages.
It had been six months, at least, since she’d slept really well. It didn’t matter how soft the sheets were, how expensive the mattress, the bed always felt too big, and she couldn’t seem to stop the racing in her head. She’d written a ton of songs when she should have been sleeping. She supposed her music was getting better than ever, but at the same time she could feel herself edging closer and closer to burnout.
How she’d longed to have a clear head. And how amazing it was that her chance to recharge had come in some stranger’s house while lying on a man’s lap. A man whom she knew nothing about beyond his first name, the fact that his mother was nice, and that he was a good older brother.
That was when she felt his thigh muscles shift beneath her cheek and realized he knew she was awake. All at once she felt the way her tongue was sticking to the roof of her mouth. No doubt, in addition to having terrible morning breath, she also had tons of mascara stuck to her face.
Nicola badly needed to go to the bathroom to clean up before she let him see her in daylight...and before she faced him and apologized for not being the sex demon she’d pretty much promised she would be the night before.
Pushing the soft blanket off, she quickly sat up and found her footing on the plush rug. She didn’t say a word to him as she hurried off in the direction of what she desperately hoped was the bathroom.
It would be really embarrassing if she ended up in a closet. So embarrassing, in fact, that she’d already decided that if she guessed wrong, she’d just lock herself into it and die of mortification in private.
Fortunately, luck was on her side as she peeked in an open door between the living room and the open kitchen and found a large bathroom.
Oh God, she thought as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she looked like a witch. Not one of those pretty ones, either, that could put a love spell on any man she looked at. Nope, she was definitely more like one of those evil ones who fed pretty princesses shiny red apples.
Her makeup must have melted against the heat of his legs and her hair was sticking up all over the place. If only she’d thought to bring her small bag into the bathroom with her, then she could have at least fixed her lipstick. As it was, all she could do was wash everything off her face with the bar of really nice smelling soap.
Nicola hadn’t grown up wearing makeup, but once she’d decided to pursue music, it had become a given. She still wasn’t crazy about how it felt on her skin—which was sensitive enough that she now had everything custom blended so she didn’t get a rash—but she knew it made her look older, more mature and sexy. Without her makeup, she could pass for eighteen. If her pop music career ever had been a bust, she figured she could have gone undercover in high schools.
