Three

Being this close to him made Nicole’s body go berserk, but it was more than that. She didn’t know why he acted so considerate. Tycoons like Mick Remington didn’t have a thoughtful bone in their bodies. Unless… maybe he had too much to drink tonight already. She hadn’t detected the strong odor of alcohol on his breath, so she dismissed that thought.

From her new vantage point in the booth, she could see him a little better – at least his body. He wasn’t wearing the Armani suit she’d expected. Instead, he wore a loose long-sleeve buttoned blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. As she slid her gaze down farther, black Wranglers hugged his lean waist and muscular legs. She couldn’t see his feet, but she bet he wore boots, too.

Strange, but he didn’t resemble the jerk she’d believed from the rumors she’d heard.

Mick motioned to the waitress who hustled to their table, wearing a come-get-me look in her eyes that were surrounded by long, thick – fake – eyelashes. Inwardly, Nicole seethed. Apparently, he could snap his fingers and any woman would come running. She vowed not to ever be controlled by him like that.

“Could you bring me some ice,” he asked the waitress.

The younger woman’s forehead crinkled. “Do you want that in a glass?”

Mick only hesitated briefly. “A small sandwich size bag will work better since I’ll be putting it on the lady’s bruised foot.”

He grinned at the waitress and her face flamed bright red. Nicole rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Mr. Remington, I’ll get that for you right away.”

When his attention moved back to Nicole, she gave him her best smile, under the strained circumstances, anyway. “I appreciate your kindness.” Which she still didn’t quite understand, since she’d heard he was merciless.

“It’s the least I can do for a pretty lady.”

She wanted to groan with distaste, but her heart fluttered instead. She reminded herself he was as charming as a rattlesnake. He would only cause pain as he injected poison into her system just like the serpent. Over the years, she’d seen the people Mick and his father had put out of business just to make themselves wealthier.

Nicole forced a laugh. “You’re too kind. However, I think this low lighting has affected your sight.” She waved her hand in front of his face.

“Oh, you’d be surprised what I can see.” His brows lifted suggestively.

She held her breath as panic grew inside of her. Did he know her real purpose? Could he possibly know that James Adkins was her grandfather?

No, she wouldn’t believe that. There was no way Mick knew her grandfather that well.

As she expelled a slow breath, she toyed with the coaster on the table. “So, Mr. Remington—”

“Call me Mick.”

She nodded. “Mick, are you new to Maple Springs? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“I’m here on business.”

Nicole tried to maintain a pleasant expression, even if she was tempted to plow her fist into his nose for even thinking of trying to take over her grandfather’s company. Mick Remington’s only kind of business was ruining people.

“Business?” she asked sweetly. “You’ve been conducting business here at the country club’s lounge?”

“I met with some colleagues earlier, and I was just finishing my drink when you fell into my life.” He winked.

“Am I keeping you from anything?”

He shook his head. “After I’m finished with my lemon water, I was going to return to my hotel room.” His smile widened. “In fact, why don’t you join me?”

Fear leaped inside her as a lump lodged in her throat, making it impossible to swallow.  Although her heart beat wildly, his offer was what she’d hoped for. Could she really go through with this? Yet, she didn’t want to back down now.

“You can’t be serious.” She chuckled. “We just met and already you’re inviting me to your hotel room?” Her voice shook even as she tried to remain strong.

One broad shoulder lifted in a shrug. “It’s not a proposition, Nicole. I just think you’d be more comfortable sitting on something soft while we ice your foot and bring down the swelling.”

“I… I…” She swallowed hard, trying not to feel embarrassed again. “Well, you see —”

The waitress returned with a bag of ice and handed it to Mick. “Is there anything else you’d like?” Her voice dripped with honey.

Nicole resisted the unlady-like snort she wanted to release. Instead, she bit her bottom lip to keep from making a rude comment toward the obviously infatuated girl.

“What do you say?” he asked Nicole. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Why in the world would she want a drink right now, especially with all the adrenaline currently pumping through her body? Was he purposely trying to get her drunk? He probably figured that liquor would loosen her up, so she could act like all the sleazy women he’d dated. However, she wasn’t a drinker.

“Actually, I’d love a soda. Do you have Sprite?”

The waitress nodded.

“That’s what I’ll have, then.” Nicole met Mick’s gaze again. “No alcohol for me tonight. After all, I’m driving home.”

He glanced back at the waitress and nodded. “One Sprite for the lady.”

“Would you like another drink?” the waitress asked in a husky tone as she batted her fake lashes again.

“No. I’m still working on this one.” He pointed to his half-empty glass of water.

Nicole sat forward and touched his arm. “Oh, please have a drink with me. I hate to drink alone.”

The longer he stared, the more his smile relaxed. His eyes darkened, making her heart hammer quicker.

He looked back at the waitress. “Get me a Colorado Bulldog, then.”

Nicole sucked in a quick breath. Why had he ordered that? Did he know that was her grandfather’s favorite drink? Nah, Mick couldn’t possibly know.

Just like earlier, confusion crossed the waitress’s already dopey features. Her brown, penciled-on eyebrows drew together. “What’s that?”

Nicole didn’t hesitate to roll her eyes this time. How did this girl get a job in a place that served alcohol if she didn’t know anything about mixing drinks?

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Nicole mumbled. “It’s Kahlua, milk, vodka, and a splash of Coke.”

Mick’s wide eyes met Nicole’s as his grin widened. “Very good.”

The waitress scribbled the ingredients down and nodded. “Got it. I’ll be back.”

He shifted the bag of ice in his hands and placed it gently on to Nicole’s bruised foot. Pain shot through her, making her hold her breath. The bruise hurt worse than she’d expected, and the ice shocked her already overheated body. As his large hands cradled her foot and calf, the coldness disappeared and warmth spread through her. Why did she have to react this way from his touch?