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The attendant chuckled. “I’ll be right back.” She walked away, returning with a bottle of water and two Tylenol. Nicole saw the offering, bursting into tears.
“What’s wrong, ma’am?”
Nicole wiped her eyes. “It’s nothing. I have a migraine. The engines are making it worse.”
“I am sorry to hear that, but the plane will be landing shortly.” Nicole nodded. The attendant let her be.
Nicole was the first passenger off the plane, promptly catching a cab to the train station. She finally knew where she was going to go. It was the last place he’d ever think to look for her. She doubted he cared enough to wonder.
~ ~ ~
Reece unlocked the door to the cottage, walking in and setting his bags down on the floor. It was good to be home. He wanted to drop where he stood; he was that tired. And not just from the rounds of interviews and appearances, but from the pure misery of not knowing where his fiancée could be. Where had she gone? She wasn’t returning his calls. He’d left messages at her last hotel, but the office staff reported she threw them in the trash when she checked out. Why would she do that?
He flicked on the lamp, taking a seat on the sofa, stretching his legs out in front of him, and leaning his head back against the cushions. Surely, she hadn’t taken his E interview seriously? She couldn’t have. She knew him better than that.
He heard a noise coming from the back of the house. He stood up to check it out. It was a small sound, like a sigh or a hiccup. Was someone here? He wasn’t in the mood to deal with a nosy photographer tonight.
He moved down the hall, a beam of light coming from the master suite. He stopped, slowly pushing the door open. Nicole sat in the middle of the bed with a notebook in her lap, scratching across the page with her pen. She stopped writing long enough to lean over the side of the bed to pull an open wine bottle from the floor. She chugged down a healthy swallow of the liquid.
His first reaction was relief because she was obviously safe from harm. His second was overwhelming pain and anger for putting him through hell in the last thirty-six hours. “Are you that thirsty?”
She looked up, focusing her eyes on him, but then letting them glaze back over. “Go away, Satan. You can’t have my soul just yet.”
He moved into the room, abruptly ducking when the wine bottle sailed by his head and smashed on the wall, spraying and splattering wine everywhere. He turned back, staring at her in shock. “What the hell, Nicole?”
“I said, ‘Go away, Satan.’”
“I’m not Satan.”
“Yes, you are. Only Satan would build your dreams up then tear them down when you think you’re on the top of the world.”
“You saw the interview.” Bloody Hell!
“I saw the announcement. I didn’t stay around for the interview.”
He stood with his hands on his hips. “Is that why you disappeared?” He raked his hand through his hair. “Do you know how frantic I’ve been, trying to find you? My God, woman, your parents have issued a missing person’s report, and Lindsey is beside herself with guilt because she wasn’t with you.”
“Lindsey has her own life to live. That doesn’t include having to babysit her older sister.”
“You need a keeper.”
“I’m not five, Reece.”
“Are you sure about that? You’re definitely not a mature adult when you run away every time something isn’t to your liking.”
“I didn’t run away. I disappeared.”
He snorted. “And the difference is?”
“Running away means I may never be found. Disappearing means I’ll turn up eventually.”
He shook his head, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “I forgot who I was talking to, ‘Miss I’ve got an answer to everything.’” She went back to scribbling in her notepad. “What are you jotting down?”
“A ‘Dear Reece’ letter.”
He came closer. “Is that like a Dear John letter?”
“Yes, except I don’t plan to let you down easy.” She glanced up at him. “Why are you here?”
