The Real Deal. Debbi RawlinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
that didn’t pan out.”
“What?”
“He stood me up.” Emily had lowered her voice, but quickly realized that had only guaranteed Nick’s interest. He was trying not to be obvious but she could tell he was straining to hear. She cleared her throat. “I don’t need anyone to show me around, anyway. I picked up a couple of travel books this afternoon.”
“Ooh, tell me you took my advice and got Erotic New York.”
“Take some time off, Marnie. Enjoy the holidays. I have to go.”
“Wait.”
“Seriously, hanging up now.”
“You sound odd.” Marnie paused. “Are you with someone?” Emily took a heartbeat too long to respond. “Good God. You are. Why didn’t you say something.”
“Goodbye, Marnie.” Emily flipped her cell phone shut and then switched it to vibrate because her friend’s persistence was legendary. Although if she thought Emily were with a guy, maybe she’d lay off for a while.
Emily felt Nick watching her, and she furtively looked his way again. That’s when she saw that the tote bag sitting on his lap had torn. It wasn’t a big tear, but enough that her new lacy black panties were sticking out of the bottom corner.
“Thank you,” she said, and carefully retrieved the bag and stuffed it into another one.
“Small quarters,” he said, “so I couldn’t help but overhear. You’re looking for a guide?”
“I was, but it’s silly really. I mean, who doesn’t know what to see in New York, right?” She abruptly turned her face and stared out at the cheery Christmas displays twinkling from the store windows. Who would put up the tree? Not her mother. Emily always did that the day after Thanksgiving.
God, why had she overreacted with her sisters? She should be at home right now, thawing the turkey and baking pumpkin pies. She shook her head. Away for two days and already homesick.
“You okay?”
His voice startled her. She’d almost forgotten he was there.
“Fine.” She darted him a look and silently cleared her throat. “Just tired. I had a tough travel day yesterday with everything so crowded and intense.” She had to quit being a baby. She was going to have a terrific time.
Everyone was right. She was too much of a hermit and needed to step out of her comfortable life. The more she’d hidden out, surrounded by her books and computer, the less social she’d become. But this was her big chance. She was going to rock this city and have all kinds of wild stories to tell Marnie and her sisters.
She would. She absolutely would. Or else, lie her ass off.
3
DAMN, WAS SHE CRYING? With growing apprehension, Nick watched the reflection of her heart-shaped face in the window. She nibbled her lower lip and stared forlornly at the pedestrians crowding the sidewalk who were making better time than they were. Her chin quivered, or maybe that was the trick of the light coming through the rain-splattered glass. Was she upset about not having a guide? Or maybe she was just plain lonely.
He turned away and ordered himself to forget about her. She was a grown woman. If she wanted company she would have brought a friend. He focused on two young women in absurdly high heels, huddled under one umbrella and rushing to cross the street. He often liked being alone himself, so that was easy to understand. What he needed to do was mind his own business. Next time he was gonna use the car service. No more cabs for him. And definitely no sharing.
He tensed when he thought he heard her sniffle. Slowly he angled back toward her, regarding her from the corner of his eye. She wasn’t crying, but was messing with her phone. Her dark head bent forward, her cute, slightly upturned nose wrinkled in concentration and her fingers worked quickly. Probably texting someone to meet her. Didn’t matter to him. Not his business, he reminded himself.
“Do you know—?”
“What are you—?”
They both spoke at the same time.
“Sorry,” she murmured, tucking her phone into her purse. “Go ahead.”
“After you.”
She smiled wryly, flashing both dimples. She really was cute, with her wavy collar-length hair swinging as she moved her head. Her eyes looked like they might be brown, but the lighting wasn’t good enough for him to tell for sure. “I forgot what I was going to say.”
He chuckled. “Me, too.”
She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and blinked at him, her head tilting slightly. “I know this sounds crazy, but you look familiar.”
The driver’s head bobbed suddenly, and Nick caught the man’s eye in the rearview mirror. Nick narrowed his gaze in warning. She didn’t know who he was, and he liked it that way.
She opened her mouth to say something else, but gasped when the cab swerved sharply to keep from rear-ending a bus. She clutched the back of the driver’s seat, and with the other hand, tried to stop the packages on her lap from sliding to the floor. “Please tell me we’re close to the Thornton,” she muttered.
A brown shopping bag ended up on the floor, and he reached to retrieve it, but she quickly snatched it up as if she thought he were going to steal the thing.
“Not too far,” he said, leaning back.
“Close enough that I can walk?”
“Only if you don’t mind hiking twenty blocks in the rain.”
“Twenty blocks?” Her alarmed gaze lowered to the ticking meter. “You don’t think that’s far?”
With the rain and heavy traffic, it had taken fifteen minutes to go only a few blocks, and they’d already racked up quite a hefty fare. Nick hadn’t given it a second thought, but then he wasn’t on a budget. Anyway, he planned on dropping her off first and paying the whole thing.
“I’m going as fast as I can, miss,” the driver said, and then angrily muttered something in Italian and purposely lurched the cab forward when a black Mercedes tried to squeeze in front of them. A couple of explicit hand gestures were exchanged between the two drivers and then all was calm again.
Crazy, but Nick kind of missed the horn honking. A few hotheads ignored the law to cut back on noise that had been instituted some years back and still leaned on their horns as if that would make the traffic go any faster, but overall, the city was a quieter place.
Nick noticed her death grip on the armrest and, to distract her, said, “I don’t think I caught your name.”
“Emily.” She relaxed her hold and slid him a brief glance. “Emily Carter.”
“So, where are you from, Emily Carter?”
“Berber, Indiana.”
“Is that anywhere near Logansport?”
She lifted her eyebrows at him. “About fifty miles. I can’t believe you’ve heard of it.”
“I grew up across the border in Pilner, Illinois.”
“Really? So you’re a tourist, too.”
“No, I’ve lived here for about ten years now.”
“Big change.”
“Yep.” He nodded. “It took a while to get used to the faster pace.” He could feel the driver staring at him in the rearview mirror again, but he felt confident he’d made his point and the man would keep his mouth shut.
“You said your name is Nick, right?”
“I did.”
She squinted, studying him quizzically.