Falling For Rachel - Stanislaskis 3 Part 15

"You went in?" Nick repeated, wide-eyed. "You jumped in the water?"

"I was over the side before I thought about it. I wasn't being a hero, I just didn't think. Believe me, if I had..." He let the words trail off, then swallowed the rest of the whiskey. "It was like jumping off a skysc.r.a.per.

You don't think you're ever going to stop falling. It was end over end, forever, giving you plenty of time to realize you've just killed yourself. It was stupid-if the wind had been wrong it would have just smashed me against the side of the s.h.i.+p. But I was lucky, and it tossed me toward the boat. Then I hit. G.o.d, it was like ramming full-length into concrete."

He hadn't known until later that he'd snapped his collarbone and dislocated his left shoulder. "I couldn't get my bearings. The water kept heaving me around, sucking me down. It was so black, the searchlight barely cut through. There I was, drowning, and I couldn't even remember what I was doing. It was blind luck that I found the mast. She was all tangled up in the line. I don't know how many times we went under while I was trying to get her loose. My hands were numb, and I was working blind. Then I had her, and I managed to get the flotation on her. They said I got the tow line secured, but I don't remember. I just remember hanging on to her and waiting for the next wave to finish us off. Next thing, I was waking up in the infirmary. The kid was sitting there, wrapped in a blanket and holding my hand." He smiled. It helped to think about that part. Just that part. "She was one tough little monkey. A d.a.m.n admiral's granddaughter."

"You saved her life."

"Maybe. For the first couple of months, I jumped off that deck every time I closed my eyes. Now it's only once or twice a year. It still scares the breath out of me."

"I didn't think you were scared of anything."

"I'm scared of plenty," Zack said quietly as he met his brother's eyes.

"For a while I was scared I wouldn't be able to stand on deck and look out at the water again. I was scared to come back here, knowing that once I did, my whole life was going to change. And I'm scared of ending up like the old man, sick and feeble and used up. I guess I'm scared you're going to walk out that door in a few weeks, feeling the same about me you did when you walked in."

Nick broke the gaze first, staring over Zack's shoulder at the shadowy wall. "I don't know how I feel. You came back because you had to. I stayed because there was no place else to go."

There was no arguing with the truth. As far as Zack could see, Nick had summed it up perfectly. "We never had much of a shot before." "You didn't hang around very long."

"I couldn't get along with the old man-"

"You were the only one he cared about," Nick blurted out. "Every day I'd have to hear about how great you were, how you were making something out of yourself. What a hero you were. And how I was nothing." He caught himself, swallowed the need. "But that's cool. You were his blood, and I was just something that got dumped on him when my mother died."

"He didn't feel that way. He didn't," Zack insisted. "For G.o.d's sake, Nick, when I lived with him, he was never satisfied with me, either. I was here, and my mother wasn't. That was enough to make him miserable every time he looked at me. h.e.l.l, he didn't mean it." Zack closed his eyes and missed the flicker of surprise that pa.s.sed over Nick's face. "It was just the way he was. It took me years to realize he was always on my back because it was the only way he knew to be a father.

It was the same with you."

"He wasn't my..." But this time Nick trailed off without finis.h.i.+ng the sentence, or the thought.

"Toward the end, he asked for you. He really wanted to see you, Nick.

Most of the times he came around like that, he thought you were still a little kid. And sometimes-most times, really-he just got the two of us mixed up together. Then he'd yell at me for both of us." He said it with a smile-a smile that Nick didn't return. "I'm not blaming you for staying away, or for holding all those years of criticism and complaints against him. I understand that it was too late for him, Nick. It doesn't have to be too late for you."

"What does it matter to you?" "You're all the family I've got." He rose and laid a hand on Nick's shoulder, relaxing when it wasn't shoved off. "Maybe, when it comes right down to the bottom line, you're all the family I've ever had. I don't want to lose that."

"I don't know how to be family," Nick murmured.

"Me either. Maybe we can figure it out together."

Nick glanced up, then away. "Maybe. We're stuck with each other a few more weeks, anyway."

It would do, Zack thought as he gave Nick's shoulder a quick squeeze. It would do for now. "Thanks for the drink, kid. Do me a favor and don't mention the nightmare business to anyone."

"I can dig it." Nick watched Zack start back toward the bedroom.

"Zack?"

"Yeah."

He didn't know what he wanted to say-just that it felt good, that he felt good. "Nothing. Night."

"Good night." Zack eased back into bed with a sigh, certain he'd sleep like a baby.

Chapter Nine

Something had changed. Rachel couldn't put her finger on it, but as she sat between Zack and Nick on the subway to Brooklyn she knew there was something going on between them. Something different. It made her nerves hum. It made her wonder if she'd made a mistake in bringing the problems of the men who flanked her into her parents'

home.

And her problem, as well, she admitted. After all, she wouldn't deny she cared about both of them more than what could be considered professional. She felt a kins.h.i.+p with Nick-the younger-sibling syndrome, she supposed. Added to that, she'd been telling the simple truth when she confessed to Zack that she had a weakness for bad boys.

She wanted to do more for Nick LeBeck than help him stay out of jail.

As for Nick's big brother, she'd long since crossed all professional boundaries with him, into what could only be termed a full-blown affair.

Even sitting beside him in the rumbling car, she thought about the last time they'd been together, alone. And it took no effort at all to imagine what it would be like the next time they could steal a few hours.

Her mother was bound to sense it, Rachel mused. Nothing got past Nadia Stanislaski when it came to her children. She wondered what her mother would think of him. What she would think of the fact that her baby girl had taken a lover.

For two people who had vowed not to complicate matters, she and Zack had done a poor job of it, Rachel decided. She'd been so certain she could keep her priorities well in line, accept the physical aspects of a relations.h.i.+p with a man she liked and respected without dwelling on the th.o.r.n.y issue of what-happens-next.

But she was thinking about Zack too much, already slotting herself as part of a couple when she'd always been perfectly content to go along single.

Now, when she imagined moving along without him, the picture turned dull and listless. Her problem, Rachel reminded herself. After all, they had made a pact, and she never went back on her word. It was something she would have to deal with when the time came. Much more immediate was the nagging sensation that the relations.h.i.+p of the men beside her had taken a fast turn without her being aware of it.

To offset the feeling, she kept up a steady stream of conversation until they reached their stop.

"It's only a few blocks," Rachel said, dragging her hair back as a brisk autumn wind swirled around them. "I hope you don't mind the walk."

Zack lifted a brow. "I think we can handle it. You seem nervous, Rachel.

She seem nervous to you, Nick?"

"Pretty jumpy."

"That's ridiculous." She headed into the wind, and the men fell in beside her.

"It's probably the thought of having a criminal type sit down to Sunday dinner," Zack commented. "Now she's going to have to count all the silverware."

Shocked at the statement, Rachel started to respond, but Nick merely snorted and answered for himself. "If you ask me, she's worried about inviting some Irish sailor. She has to worry if he'll drink all the booze and pick a fight."

"I can handle my liquor, pal. And I don't plan on picking a fight. Unless it's with the cop."

Nick crunched a dry leaf as it skittered across the sidewalk. "I'll take the cop."

Why, they're joking with each other, Rachel realized. Like brothers.

Very much like brothers. Delighted, she linked arms with both of them. "If either of you takes on Alex, you'll be in for a surprise. He's meaner than he looks. And the only thing I'm nervous about is that I won't get my share of dinner. I've seen both of you eat."

"This from a woman who packs it away like a linebacker."

Rachel narrowed her eyes at Zack. "I merely have a healthy appet.i.te."

He grinned down at her. "Me too, sugar."

She was wondering how to control the sudden leap of her heart rate when a car skidded to a halt in the street beside them. "Hey!" the driver called out.

"Hey back." Rachel broke away to walk over to greet her brother and sister-in-law. Bending into the tiny window of the MG, she kissed Mikhail and smiled at his wife. "Still keeping him in line, Sydney?"

Cool and elegant beside her untamed-looking husband, Sydney smiled.

"Absolutely. Difficult jobs are my forte."

Mikhail pinched his wife's thigh and nodded toward the sidewalk. "So what's the story there?"

"They're my guests." She gave Mikhail a long, warning look that she knew was wasted on him before calling to Nick and Zack. "Come meet my brother and his long-suffering wife. Sydney, Mikhail, this is Zackary Muldoon and Nicholas LeBeck."

His eyes s.h.i.+elded by dark gla.s.ses, Mikhail took a careful survey. He had a brother's natural lack of faith in his sister's judgment. "Which is the client?"

"Today," Rachel said, "they're both guests." Sydney leaned over and jammed her elbow sharply in Mikhail's ribs.

"It's very nice to meet you, both of you. You're in for quite a treat with Nadia's cooking."

"So I hear." Zack kept his eyes on Mikhail as he answered, and lifted a proprietary hand to Rachel's shoulder.

Mikhail's fingers drummed on the steering wheel. "You own what? A bar?"

"No, actually, I'm into white slavery."

That got a chuckle from Nick before Rachel shook her head. "Go park your car."

As they retreated to the sidewalk, Nick smiled over at Rachel. "I see what you mean now about older brothers. Being a pain must go with the position."

"Responsibility," Zack told him. "We just pa.s.s on the benefit of our experience."

"No," Rachel said, "what you are is nosy." Amused, she gestured toward the sound of voices and laughter. Mikhail and Sydney were already at the door of the row house, hugging and being hugged. "This is it." When Rachel spotted Natasha, she gave a cry of pleasure and dashed up the steps.

Hanging back a little, Zack watched Rachel embrace her sister. Natasha was slighter, more delicately built, with rich brown eyes misted with tears, and tumbled raven curls raining down her back. Zack's first thought was that this could not be the mother of three Rachel had described to him. Then a young boy of six or seven squeezed between the women and demanded attention. "You let in the cold!" This was bellowed from inside the house in a rumbling male voice that carried to the sidewalk and beyond. "You are not born in barn."

"Yes, Papa." Her voice sounded meek enough, but Rachel winked at her nephew as she lifted him up for a kiss.

"My sister, Natasha," she continued, as they stood in the open doorway.

"And my boyfriend, Brandon. And," she said when a toddler wandered up to hang on Natasha's legs, "Katie."

"You pick me up," Katie demanded, homing in on Nick. "Okay?" She was already holding up her arms, smiling flirtatiously. Nick cleared his throat and glanced at Rachel for help. When he only got a smile and a shrug, he bent down awkwardly.

"Sure. I guess."

An expert at such matters, Katie settled herself on his hip and wound an arm around his neck.

"She enjoys men," Natasha explained. When her father bellowed again, she rolled her eyes. "Come inside, please."

Zack was struck by the sounds and the scents. Home, he realized. This was a home. And stepping inside made him realize he'd never really had one himself.

The scents of ham and cloves and furniture polish, the clash of mixed voices. The carpet on the stairway leading to the second floor was worn at the edges, testimony to the dozens of feet that had climbed up or down. The furniture in the cramped living room was faded with sun and time, crowded now with people. A gleaming piano stood against one wall. Atop it was a bronze sculpture. He recognized the faces of Rachel's family, melded together, cheek to cheek, flanked by two older, proud faces that could only be her parents'. He didn't know much about art, but he understood that this represented a unity that could not be broken.

"So you bring your friends, then leave them in the cold." Yuri sat in an armchair, cuddling a sprite of a girl. His big workingman's arms nearly enveloped the pretty child, who had a fairy's blond hair and curious eyes.

"It's only a little cold." Rachel bent to kiss her father, then the girl.

"Freddie, you get prettier every time I see you."

Freddie smiled and tried to pretend she wasn't staring at the young blond man who was holding her little sister. But she had just turned thirteen, and whole worlds were opening up to her.

Rachel went through another round of introductions. Freddie turned the name Nick LeBeck over in her head while Yuri shouted out orders.

"Alexi, bring hot cider. Rachel, take coats upstairs. Mikhail, kiss your wife later. Go tell Mama we have company."

Within moments, Zack found himself seated on the couch, scratching the ears of a big, floppy dog named Ivan and discussing the pros and cons of running a business with Yuri.

Nick felt desperately self-conscious with a baby on his knee. She didn't seem to be in any hurry to get down. And the little blond girl named Freddie kept studying him with solemn gray eyes. He glanced away, wis.h.i.+ng their mother would come along and do something. Anything.

Katie snuggled up and began to toy with his earring.

"Pretty," she said, with a smile so sweet he couldn't help but respond. "I have earrings, too. See?" To show off her tiny gold hoops, she turned her head this way and that. " 'Cause I'm Daddy's little gypsy." "I bet." Unconsciously he lifted a hand to stroke her hair. "You kind of look like your Aunt Rachel."

"I can take her." Freddie had worked up her courage and now she stood beside the couch smiling down at Nick. "If she's bothering you."

Nick merely moved his shoulders. "She's cool." He struggled to find something to say. The girl was china-doll pretty, he thought, and as foreign to him as Rachel's Ukraine. "Uh...you don't look a whole lot like sisters."