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“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But the wariness in the indigo gaze told her Nick knew precisely what she meant and he was equally determined to avoid the issue.
“You know, I might have thought you were a bad father—”
“Hey, wait a min—”
“—but I never had you tagged for a coward.”
Anger flared, turning his eyes that blacker shade of midnight and his head went back. “A coward?”
“Yes, a coward. You’re afraid of talking about anything that matters.”
“You’ve been gossiping with my sister,” he said tonelessly.
“No, I haven’t. But how interesting that we agree.” Candace drew a deep, steadying breath. Ah, well, she’d started this; there was no turning back now. “You’re afraid of intimacy.”
“You know nothing about me!”
“Because you don’t allow anyone to get close?”
His face had tightened into an expressionless mask. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your wife loved you—you didn’t let even her inside.”
Nick bent forward and spoke in a soft, forceful voice. “My wife never loved me. She wanted to own me, possess my every waking thought, my soul. That’s not love.”
For the first time, the facade had cracked and she’d glimpsed anger and a ferocious passion that caused the tiny hairs on her arms to prickle.
“Nick…” She placed a hand on his arm.
“Don’t touch me.” His tone was dark and raw. “Unless you’re prepared to reap the consequences.”
Excitement licked at her, taking Candace by surprise. She’d never been reckless. The spreading desire warned her that was about to change. She forced herself not to be distracted. To focus. She wanted to know what kind of man Nick Valentine was.
“So tell me, make me understand.”
The look he gave her was hostile. “Okay, you want to hear the story of what you consider great love? I’ll tell you.”
Candace was no longer so sure she wanted to hear whatever he was about to tell her. Lifting her hand from his arm, she said, “Nick—”
“You accused me of being a coward. You can damn well listen, then you can judge.”
Nick took the wine out of the ice bucket. Before he could pour any into her glass, Candace shook her head. She suspected that she needed to be one hundred percent sober for the coming conversation.
Instead of pouring himself wine, Nick placed the wine back in the bucket. “My wife was a photographer. She took photos of flowers and had them blown up onto canvases—”
“Yes, I know. They’re very popular. I bought one of her works at a gallery exhibition.” For her mother’s birthday—the last one they’d celebrated before the accident. The photograph had been expensive, but it had been worth every cent. Her mother still loved it. “That’s how we met.”
Then they’d met again when Jilly had bumped into her at the hospital visiting a friend’s premature baby. That was the first time Candace had glimpsed the other woman’s yearning for a baby. They’d bumped into each other several times after that and Candace had been touched by Jilly’s concern for her friend’s baby.
“Well, we have that in common. It’s how I met her, too. I was contracted to landscape her father’s garden—I’d already built up a successful string of garden centers. Jilly was taking photos of some of the flowers when I came to check the landscaper’s plans for the garden. She started to talk to me, and before I knew it I was being invited to lavish parties at the Perry residence with promises of securing more lucrative landscaping work, and somehow I became her regular date.”
Candace could visualize the scene. Nick, strong, handsome, so full of drive and energy. “She fell in love with you.”
He shook his head. “You’re making romantic assumptions. She fell in love with the vision of what she thought she could mold me into.”
Mold Nick? He must be joking! Anyone could see that this was a man who knew his own mind. This man was no one’s toy.
“She couldn’t get what she wanted, so like a spoiled little girl she told her father I’d seduced her and refused to marry her. Desmond and I had an angry stand-off and I told him that he, and his daughter, could go to hell. He told me that he would make sure I would marry his Jilly.”
The white line around Nick’s mouth warned her there was more. “What happened?”
“Bertha and Henry’s bank loan was called in. Desmond stepped in and bought the center. Then Henry discovered that Desmond, the bank manager and a developer had cooked up a scheme to establish a high-density housing development on the land. He and Bertha were devastated.”
