“We split up,” Nick said, interrupting her thoughts. “Two weeks ago.”
His statement caught her off guard. Instead of grabbing a box to stick the necklace inside, Nixie ended up spilling half the boxes onto the floor. “Oh, dear.” Bending down, she began frantically picking up the boxes and tossing them haphazardly to the counter. “I’m sorry…to hear about you and Miss…Sarah.” She popped back up with an apologetic look.
Nick shrugged. “I’m not.”
There was an uncomfortable silence, and as an excuse to look away, Nixie grabbed the necklace and rang it up.
“It’s for my sister,” Nick added as he pulled out his wallet. “It’s her birthday.”
She gave a quick nod. “That’s nice.” She tried to look cool and calm, but her heart was beating frantically in her chest.
Nicholas Morgan was back on the market and here he was standing in front of her like a delectable sex mirage. That thought brought a blush to her cheeks and made her drop the box with his necklace in it to the floor. “I am so sorry,” she stammered, sinking to her knees on the carpet.
“I’m starting to think you’re not very coordinated.”
Nixie replied with a tittering laugh. “Is it that obvious?” She popped up again, nearly hitting her head a second time.
“Alarmingly so,” he said wryly, taking the bag she held out that contained his purchase.
“Yeah…well…”
“Well,” Nick repeated slowly, holding eye contact for a long moment.
Nixie felt her heart constrict in her chest. He was so gorgeous…and those eyes…
“Thank you,” he said, voice low and gravelly.
She gave him a tight smile, unable to do anything else.
On her silence, he returned the smile and walked away.
Nixie noticed the receipt next to her hand just as he was reaching the door. “N…Mr. Morgan,” she cried. When he turned, she rushed across the room, the paper held in the air. “Your receipt,” she said breathlessly. “We wouldn’t want you to leave without that.”
His eyes searched her face and Nixie knew she should say something, anything. By the time she thought she might have a coherent sentence ready, he took the receipt from her hand and said, “Thanks again.” Then he was gone.
In disappointment, Nixie trudged back behind the counter.
“Do you know who that was?” Joe gushed. “Do you?”
“Nick Morgan,” she replied glumly.
“This will be great for business,” Joe pressed on. “Nick Morgan shops here. Imagine the publicity!”
“Mmmph,” she grumbled. As she rounded the counter, her toe kicked something underneath. She stooped down and felt around on the floor. Her hand closed over a small box.
As soon as her eyes landed on it, she felt a sinking sensation in her gut. “Oh no,” she whispered. “No, no, no.”
But there it was when she creaked the box open, the necklace just purchased by Nicholas Morgan. “Just imagine the publicity,” she whimpered in apprehension.
Twenty minutes later, Nixie was pacing the floor, the necklace shoved deep in her pocket. “What am I going to do?” She was just waiting for Nick to come storming through the door, demanding an apology––or worse, her arrest. She bit her lip at that thought. They wouldn’t really throw her in jail for an honest mistake, would they?
She had to tell Joe. She shook her head frantically. She couldn’t tell Joe. Joe would fire her for sure. No. She had to deal with this herself. But how could she do that without anyone finding out? She chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. “Perhaps…” Her heart leapt into her throat at the danger of the plan she was formulating. Was she really considering breaking into the man’s house to return a necklace? No way would it work.
He was bound to have tight security and bodyguards. She would get caught for sure…but there was that charity dinner he was scheduled to attend this evening. She remembered hearing all about it. Surely he would take his bodyguards with him.
It would be easy. Break in, place the necklace in the empty box she’d obviously given him, and get out. No problem, right? She let out a miserable groan, trying to swallow back a lump in her throat the size of Texas. It was impractical, stupid, and bound to land her in prison. Of all the dumb, disorganized ideas she ever had, this one might be the worst. So, why not? It was only one giant disaster waiting to happen.
Chapter Two
Nick was slouched in his sitting room, casting bored glances at the clock. It was only 12:30. That was far too early to go to bed on a Saturday night. He just didn’t know what to do.
If he were in L.A., there would be a million hot spots he could swing by. Here, there was nothing. Nothing to distract him from the fact that he was alone. Though he had no one to blame but himself for that problem. He was the one to break things off with Sarah. He was the one to ask for some space when she huffily stated he would change his mind, and yet somehow, he was the lonely one.
With a sigh, he put the book he’d been reading down on the table next to him. His real problem had nothing to do with boredom. His dilemma was that he simply couldn’t concentrate. Every time he got into something, a flash of big, black curls would enter his mind. His thoughts would wander to orange, chipped fingernail polish. Honestly, who wears orange on their nails? No one sane, apparently …
That had to be what was bothering him: The orange polish. It was so fashionably unacceptable. That girl was a fashion crisis! With her broken shoe…
“What was with the shoe?” he asked the empty room. How did something like that happen? How could someone so tiny be so destructive? It was baffling. Though he had felt bad for her, all crumpled on the floor like that. With her skirt riding up over her creamy thighs…
Nick closed his eyes, savoring that mental picture. He should have gone back and gotten her number. Why not? He was single. He was lonely. He was attracted to her. He was…not alone in the house.
Nick was positive he’d hear the distinct sound of footsteps. He sat absolutely still, listening for the slightest noise. A second later, the sound of something being dropped to the floor could be heard.
Trying to keep his alarm to a minimum, Nick moved swiftly to the kitchen. He had a whole security system set up inside. He could view any room in the entire house. A nifty device when one has uninvited visitors.
It didn’t take him long to track down the intruder. The burglar was in his bedroom. His bedroom. When he took a closer look, his eyes widened in disbelief. The little felon had long, black curls. When she spun around, he nearly gasped. It was her! The girl he’d been obsessing over all night.
Turning in the direction of the hall, he marched up the steps, determined to confront the little vixen. His mind couldn’t decide whether he was extremely turned on or unbelievably pissed. Perhaps it was a mixture of both. He wasn’t sure how to blend those two reactions…or if he even could.
He rounded the upstairs hallway and reached the bedroom doorway just in time to see her clasping the necklace he’d bought earlier around her neck.
* * *
Nixie was so close. She was in. All she had to do now was put the necklace in his box…and not knock anything else onto the floor. Over her shoulder, she gave Nick’s cell phone a dirty look. She’d tripped on the wire of the charger and sent it crashing to the ground. Dumb cord.
She silently pondered over the fact that he didn’t have his phone with him. He was out for a night on the town. You would think he’d bring that. With a shrug, she turned back to the task at hand. She’d found the box in the bottom drawer of the nightstand next to the bed. She was now kneeling in front of it. All she needed was the necklace.
She’d fastened it safely around her neck earlier. It was the most secure way to transport it. There were endless possibilities to lose it if she were to just carry it around in her hand. Wearing it seemed like the safest scenario.
Reaching behind her neck, she went to unclasp the necklace when a voice asked, “Find anything you like?”
Nixie gave a squeal and jumped in terror. She banged her knee painfully against the nightstand in her frantic attempt to turn toward the owner of the voice. When she was finally able to face the door, she found Nicholas Morgan leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest with one eyebrow arched questioningly.
Nixie sucked in a deep breath of relief. It wasn’t the police. Thank heavens. “You scared the crap out of me,” she hissed. “You should make more noise when you creep up on people like that!” She frowned, realizing how contradictory that statement was.
“I’m sorry,” Nick said smoothly. “I forgot that I’m to warn the burglar of my presence. How thoughtless of me.”
“Burglar!” Nixie cried indignantly.
“Besides,” Nick added, “you were making enough noise for the both of us.”