?s only a semester away from her degree in education, and I’m almost as anxious as she is to see her graduate. I’m so proud of her.”
Andrew frowned. “You’ve been putting your younger sister through school?”
“I haven’t put her through singlehandedly. Amy works when she can afford the time away from her studies, and she’s kept her grades high enough to qualify for scholarship money. She’s the smart one in the family,” Nicole added in almost maternal satisfaction. “She’ll make a wonderful teacher.”
“What about your mother? Is she able to help your sister financially?”
“Mom does well to take care of herself. She’s not very practical, I’m afraid. Money seems to evaporate from her fingertips.”
Sometimes Nicole’s candor made Andrew just a bit uncomfortable. He’d never lacked for money, himself. Never wondered how he’d pay for his next meal or phone bill. Never been responsible for supporting anyone but himself—and that had been easy, considering that a president’s chair had been waiting for him practically from the day he’d graduated from college.
Not that he hadn’t worked hard. Determined to prove that he fully deserved the position he’d inherited, he’d given everything he had to his career during the past years. It had been that single-minded dedication, as much as their differences, that had ended his engagement to Ashley. But he was satisfied that he had proven his competence and his worth to his associates, and that he’d effectively erased most of the early doubts about his youth and lifetime of privilege.
He listened attentively as Nicole chatted brightly and rather aimlessly during the drive back to Memphis. She didn’t reveal much more about herself than he’d already learned, her conversation centering mostly on her pride in her sister, and her fondness for her cousin, the “undiscovered genius.” She added a few funny stories about her experiences as a Southerner in Minneapolis, making him chuckle at her dry self-directed humor. He tried not to think about how they would part when they arrived at her motel.
He knew how he wanted this long, adventurous evening to end. He just wasn’t sure it would be at all wise to give in to the aching hunger that had been growing stronger with each hour he spent with her.
WHEN THEY RETURNED to Memphis, Nicole directed Andrew to a budget motel in the airport district. Andrew was already a bit concerned about the location—and then he saw the bikers.
The motel’s parking lot was filled with massive motorcycles. Even at this very early hour, there were a few tattooed, leather-jacketed bikers hanging around the place, drinking out of bottles hidden in brown paper bags, loudly guffawing despite the time and regardless of anyone who might be trying to sleep.
“Looks like this crowd came in after I left last night,” Nicole murmured. “My room’s around back.”
Aware that they were being watched, Andrew frowned and negotiated carefully around to the less well-lit side of the cheap motel. Nicole pointed out the door to her room. It was the one with the large, hairy man sprawled on the sidewalk nearby, passed out from an excess of liquid celebration.
“You aren’t really planning to stay here?” he asked, parked in front of her room and glaring at that snoring, leather-and-chain-clad giant.
She shrugged. “I’ll lock myself in. I’ll be fine, Andrew. I’ve stayed in worse places.”
“I haven’t. Ever.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” she murmured.
A man and a scantily dad tattooed woman rounded the corner of the building, stepped over the inert body on the sidewalk, and shouted something mercifully unintelligible at Andrew and Nicole before disappearing into a dark stairwell.
“Isn’t there anywhere else you can go? Out of all those friends you greeted at the dance dub, wouldn’t any of them put you up for the night?”
“They were more acquaintances than friends. Most of them I’ve only met a few times there at the club. There are a few people I could call, but I wouldn’t want to disturb any of them at five in the morning. Trust me, Andrew, this motel is perfectly safe. I’ve been staying here for several days and I’ve had no trouble at all.”
“The clientele has apparently changed since you arrived.”
“Well, yes,” she admitted. “But they probably won’t stay long. I’ll just lock myself in and leave them alone. I’m sure I’ll sleep until midafternoon, and maybe they’ll be gone by then.”
The biker who’d been sleeping on the walkway rolled over, half sat up, scratched his scraggly head and sprawled back out again. He seemed oblivious of his surroundings, of the hour, of the chill in the air. If he was uncomfortable on the cold concrete, he didn’t show it as he squirmed into a new position and went back to sleep.
Andrew shook his head. “I’m not leaving you here,” he said in sudden decision. “Let’s get your things.”
“I paid in advance. I can’t afford another motel tonight.”
“Then you can stay at my place.”
When she gave him a doubtful look and started to speak, he held up a silencing hand. “I have several spare bedrooms,” he told her. “And a housekeeper to chaperone if that makes you more comfortable. But there’s absolutely no way I’m leaving you here.”
He continued to look at her while she made up her mind. He sensed her mental debate—as well as her automatic resistance to his dictatorial tone. He didn’t blink. He knew how to use his innate air of command when it was necessary. It had served him well in the past.
Whether because she sensed that he wouldn’t give in, or because she really didn’t want to stay at the motel, Nicole finally conceded. “All right,” she said quietly. “Ill get my things.”
He wisely hid his satisfaction and merely nodded in return. “I’ll help you,” he said, reaching for his door handle.