Nick and Lilac by Marian Tee Page B

“It’s not your fault.” Nick cupped her face. “I mean it. It’s your right as a woman to stop me. And though it hurts like hell, and I’ll probably have to take ten cold showers later – I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
    A wave of humiliation washed over Lilac at Nick’s gentleness. “S-sorry,” she choked out, hating herself for what she had done and then hating herself more for stuttering again.
    “Hey.” Nick tipped her chin up. “It’s okay. No harm done.” He smiled at her. “Besides, I have four other kisses to claim, remember?”
    Her eyes went large at the reminder, turning into the gaze of a porcelain doll.
    FUCKING BITE IT YOU BITCH!
    Lilac quickly shut her eyes, but it just wasn’t enough to ward off the memories of how low she had sunk in the past, just to earn the love of a man who had never really loved her in the first place. She whispered painfully, “No…more…kisses.” She couldn’t – she just couldn’t afford to be that weak again, not even for Nick Christakos.
    Nick tried to make Lilac look at him, but she refused.
    “It’s too late for that, sweetheart.” He pried her fingers open, twining his fingers with hers.
    Lilac’s eyes flew open in shock. “Why?”
    Nick answered with savage honesty. “Because I need you too much.”
    Lilac shook her head rapidly. “No…” She looked at him pleadingly. “We’re friends…right?”
    Nick tightened his grip on her hand. “Yeah, well. We’re friends that kiss.”
    Lilac’s head bent down and her shoulders slumped at his answer.
    He hated how Lilac wanted his smiles but shunned his kisses, but what he hated even more was the fact that Nick couldn’t afford to respect her wishes. “Lilac---”
    She pulled her hand away. “Take…me home?”

 
     
    The Seventh Encounter
     
    The executive office of Christakos Industries occupied half of the penthouse and boasted its own cocktail bar and seating room. It had eight-foot glass walls on one side and the rest were black carbon fiber walls that concealed Nick’s private quarters. It was perpetually hailed as one of the most gorgeous offices in the state, with half of the ceiling made entirely of UV-ray-protected fiberglass. It gave one the sense of working underneath the skies, regardless whether it was the sun or the moon shining brightly down.
    All around Nick, the empty silence mocked him, and it wasn’t just because he was alone in the entire building on a Sunday. The urge to contact Karla intensified – he felt like such a goddamn failure. If Karla was here – everything would be all right. Everything would go back to normal and he wouldn’t need to use Lilac like a fucking Band-Aid on his heart.
    If he called her now, maybe this time she would answer.
    Maybe…
    Nick reached for his phone, but before he could pick it up from the desk, a knock sounded on the door.
    ****
    “Everything I could find is in there.” Mark Clayton was in his mid-fifties, with a preference for well-ironed buttoned-up shirts and jeans. He had a friendly face, but his stiff posture betrayed his military background.
    He watched the younger man’s gaze stray towards the thick folder he had placed on the huge granite desk that was easily the size of a bed. “You guarantee that? No stones left unturned?”
    Although the question was asked in a flat voice and nothing of Nick Christakos’ clean-shaven and well-dressed appearance betrayed his emotions, there were still signs for Mark Clayton to read.
    Ever since he quit the army after Vietnam, Mark had accepted a consulting position with CI with its security division, preferring to keep his senses honed than letting his brain rot watching dumbass reality TV in his home. Right now, his instincts were telling him one thing: Christakos Industries’ CEO felt very strongly about this subject.
    Keeping his face blank, Mark answered, “Yes, sir.”
    “Give me your unadulterated opinion about what you found out.”
    Mark thought back to what he had