form as he shifted his weight impatiently on the stoop. “Hey,” she
cried in surprise. “How did you find my house? I didn’t tell you where I lived.
Did you use some super-secret, rich guy private detective to track me down or
something?”
“No,” Nick said listlessly. “I
opened a phone book.”
“Oh.” She was slightly disappointed
at the unexciting means by which he found her. “Well…I guess I shouldn’t leave
you waiting out there.” She hung up the phone then quickly began running her
fingers through her hair, trying to look more presentable. Opening the door,
she pasted a big, wide smile on her face. “Hey,” she said delicately.
Nick’s features seemed to instantly
soften at her greeting, but a moment later, his sullen expression returned. “I
want my things back,” he demanded, pushing into the house.
“Oh,” Nixie replied, feeling
slightly startled. “Of course.” She turned and headed back toward her bedroom,
motioning for him to follow. She fingered the top button of her shirt. “I
didn’t get a chance to wash it,” she apologized.
Nick stood in the doorway of her
bedroom and stared in disbelief as she began unbuttoning her shirt. At the
second button, he stopped her. “I didn’t mean the shirt,” he said contemptuously.
He eyed it thoughtfully. “Though I do want that as well. It’s an Armani.”
Nixie gasped and looked down at her
shirt in surprise. “You gave me an Armani shirt to lounge around the house in?”
Nick ignored her question and
repeated his demand. “My. Things.” He stressed each word harshly, aggravation
evident in his voice.
Nixie’s hand flew to her neck, her
fingers grazing the heart locket. “You want the necklace?” she asked, slightly
confused.
“No. Not the damn necklace,” he
snapped. “I want my things!”
Nixie cringed at his angered tone.
“Nick, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said meekly.
“Oh, don’t play dumb,” he spat.
Marching across the room, he got right in her face. “I’ve had about all the
acting I can take from you.” His eyes flicked to the bed behind her. “Sit down.”
The statement was a harsh demand.
Nixie eyed him apprehensively. She
wasn’t afraid of him, not really. She was just fearful something had happened
that was going to ruin what little chance she had with him. With a baffled
sigh, she followed his order and climbed onto the bed. She scooted up so her
back was resting against the headboard, trying to put a little distance between
them to hopefully quell his agitation. “Nick,” she asked cautiously. “What’s
wrong? You seem…irritated.”
From his back pocket, Nick produced
a pair of handcuffs that he quickly fastened to her left wrist. Looping it
through a section of the headboard, he then fastened the other side to her
right wrist.
He moved swiftly and Nixie was too
stunned to put up much of a fight. When he took a step back, she stared at him
in indignation. “Nick, what the hell are you doing?”
“Exactly what you did last night.
I’m going to root through your bedroom to see if there’s anything of
interest.”
“The same thing I did?” She gave a
disgruntled snort. “I don’t recall handcuffing you to the bed.”
Nick, who had wrenched open the top
drawer of her dresser, spun to look at her. His eyes darkened in lust as he
watched her struggle against her restraints. His expression slowly turned to
pity then fast as lightning was back to anger. “No,” he practically snarled.
“What you did was worse.”
“What I did?” Nixie asked huffily.
“What exactly did I do?”
Nick slammed her drawer shut with a
resounding bang. “You seduced me. You made me…” His voice cracked and he had to
swallow before continuing. “You had sex with me while your cohorts came in and
cleaned the place out. You helped rob me. You used me for…for what, a few lousy
bucks?”
“First off, nothing you own costs a
few lousy bucks, and second, what the hell are you
cried in surprise. “How did you find my house? I didn’t tell you where I lived.
Did you use some super-secret, rich guy private detective to track me down or
something?”
“No,” Nick said listlessly. “I
opened a phone book.”
“Oh.” She was slightly disappointed
at the unexciting means by which he found her. “Well…I guess I shouldn’t leave
you waiting out there.” She hung up the phone then quickly began running her
fingers through her hair, trying to look more presentable. Opening the door,
she pasted a big, wide smile on her face. “Hey,” she said delicately.
Nick’s features seemed to instantly
soften at her greeting, but a moment later, his sullen expression returned. “I
want my things back,” he demanded, pushing into the house.
“Oh,” Nixie replied, feeling
slightly startled. “Of course.” She turned and headed back toward her bedroom,
motioning for him to follow. She fingered the top button of her shirt. “I
didn’t get a chance to wash it,” she apologized.
Nick stood in the doorway of her
bedroom and stared in disbelief as she began unbuttoning her shirt. At the
second button, he stopped her. “I didn’t mean the shirt,” he said contemptuously.
He eyed it thoughtfully. “Though I do want that as well. It’s an Armani.”
Nixie gasped and looked down at her
shirt in surprise. “You gave me an Armani shirt to lounge around the house in?”
Nick ignored her question and
repeated his demand. “My. Things.” He stressed each word harshly, aggravation
evident in his voice.
Nixie’s hand flew to her neck, her
fingers grazing the heart locket. “You want the necklace?” she asked, slightly
confused.
“No. Not the damn necklace,” he
snapped. “I want my things!”
Nixie cringed at his angered tone.
“Nick, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said meekly.
“Oh, don’t play dumb,” he spat.
Marching across the room, he got right in her face. “I’ve had about all the
acting I can take from you.” His eyes flicked to the bed behind her. “Sit down.”
The statement was a harsh demand.
Nixie eyed him apprehensively. She
wasn’t afraid of him, not really. She was just fearful something had happened
that was going to ruin what little chance she had with him. With a baffled
sigh, she followed his order and climbed onto the bed. She scooted up so her
back was resting against the headboard, trying to put a little distance between
them to hopefully quell his agitation. “Nick,” she asked cautiously. “What’s
wrong? You seem…irritated.”
From his back pocket, Nick produced
a pair of handcuffs that he quickly fastened to her left wrist. Looping it
through a section of the headboard, he then fastened the other side to her
right wrist.
He moved swiftly and Nixie was too
stunned to put up much of a fight. When he took a step back, she stared at him
in indignation. “Nick, what the hell are you doing?”
“Exactly what you did last night.
I’m going to root through your bedroom to see if there’s anything of
interest.”
“The same thing I did?” She gave a
disgruntled snort. “I don’t recall handcuffing you to the bed.”
Nick, who had wrenched open the top
drawer of her dresser, spun to look at her. His eyes darkened in lust as he
watched her struggle against her restraints. His expression slowly turned to
pity then fast as lightning was back to anger. “No,” he practically snarled.
“What you did was worse.”
“What I did?” Nixie asked huffily.
“What exactly did I do?”
Nick slammed her drawer shut with a
resounding bang. “You seduced me. You made me…” His voice cracked and he had to
swallow before continuing. “You had sex with me while your cohorts came in and
cleaned the place out. You helped rob me. You used me for…for what, a few lousy
bucks?”
“First off, nothing you own costs a
few lousy bucks, and second, what the hell are you
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