Vistaria Has Fallen (The Vistaria Affair/Vistaria Has Fallen #1)(46)

“Right now, no.” His smile was tight and hard. “That’s because you’ve made me feel foolish. You are right, la dama fuerte. We accepted risks, which means we can’t afford to ignore them or pretend they’re not there. So...home, by the most direct route with no scenic stops. There, at least, we shall be as secure as we can be.”

He drove through a maze of streets. It seemed as though he backtracked sometimes. She realized he was avoiding the terraced roads a car could not use. Then they were beyond the town and driving along a narrow mountain road with a sharp drop to Calli’s right. They headed northwest, further into the mountains.

“How far?” she asked.

“Twenty minutes. It depends on the weather.”

“Rain?”

“Fog,” he said. “Fog makes turning the hairpin bends an exercise in caution.”

“You live very much out of the way?”

“Just enough.” He paused while he negotiated a sharp curve. “Five years after I got back from the States, I bought up half-a-dozen slice farms and built a house at the top of them.”

She took a moment to absorb the wealth of information in that simple statement. Nick liked living away from everyone. He’d acquired at least six properties to build a house upon. His out-of-the-way property was not a little cabin in the woods, then. “Slice farms?” she said at last.

“I’ll show you one, later,” he promised. “My neighbors still work their farms.”

“And you lived in the States while you studied, right? Philosophy and economics.”

“Mmm.” His attention had drawn to the road ahead and he slowed the Jeep, creeping around a bend. Hidden on the other side of the blind corner, a dozen mountain goats meandered across the road. He beeped the horn to encourage them to move. They wandered to the side, barely looking at the Jeep.

“You knew they were there?” Calli asked.

“They were on the side just there when I came down the hill earlier.”

“They look just like the ones we get back home.”

“They probably are. The British traders introduced many western ideas and animals into Vistaria in their efforts to make the world England.”

“You don’t like that, do you?”

He took a while to answer. “I grew up listening to my mother’s stories of Belfast and the mighty English fist. No, I don’t like it. Not for Northern Ireland, nor for Vistaria.”

She didn’t know how to respond, for she had glimpsed the passion he had for his country, the dedication he brought to his work. She represented a country that most of his fellow Vistarians viewed as a threat. Yet she sat here beside him on her way to—

“Tell me about your dreams, Calli,” he said, making her jump.

“Dreams?”

“You said you dreamed of us. Together.”

“I did.” The quick montage of images, faded by constant review, flipped through her mind. Despite the fading, they still had the power to stir her, to catch her breath with their power and their raw sensuality.

“Tell me about them,” Nick coaxed, his voice low.

Even when she had lived with Robert, she had not discussed intimate dreams and fantasies. She couldn’t recall if she’d even had them.

Nick glanced at her and smiled. “Ah, Calli, it’s clear you’ve never been with a man who cares about such matters. I do. I want to know what’s in your heart, your mind, your soul and every inch of flesh and blood in between.”

She changed the direction. “You said you dreamed of me, too.”

“I can tell you my dreams. I’d rather show you, though. For that I need both hands free.”

“Show me?”

“Oh yes,” he said, his voice lower still and hoarse. “I have the details memorized.”

She shivered, despite the sun.

“Give me the one image that has stayed with you,” he said. “I know there must be at least one. A moment from your dreams. Just as you did that night at Ashcroft’s, when I touched your breast. You said you had dreamed it, only—”

“The reality was better than the dream,” she finished. Despite her awkwardness at discussing such intimate details aloud, her body was responding. “Your hand on my hip.” Her voice was husky, too.

“Ah...you’re such a delight. A realist and a romantic in one long, delicious package. You’ve just let the realist stay in charge for too long. Since the long-departed Robert, I’m guessing.” He spared a swift look at her. “Did he prey on the romantic in you?”

“I suppose that’s what he did do,” she said slowly, thinking it through. “He convinced me he loved me and that we’d be together forever, only he had to get through medical school, first.”

“So you moved in with him, left college, supported him and loved him,” he finished. “Until he got his internship.”

“Yes.” Her cheeks burned.

His hand came down on her thigh and squeezed. Empathy. He knew. He had seen it all without explanation.

The pounding anticipation made her voice thick and unsteady as she said, “How safe is it here? Can you put the gun aside?”

He seemed to consider that. “Aside, but not too far aside.”

“Do it. And take off your jacket too.”