The Prince of New York (Book 4 of the Forbidden Series)

1

Five years later…

Nadia reached for her coat which had been hung off the back of her church folding chair for the last hour and a half. Group had just let out, and everyone was mingling as they did before leaving for the night. She had been coming to this post-traumatic stress support group for two years now. She had watched many come and go. Some made breakthroughs, some had breakdowns, but Nadia found herself stuck in limbo. Her time in this church basement had done little to help her cope with her stress. Frankly, she was getting tired of coming.

“You were very quiet today.” Commented Camille Harper a close friend she had met in group two years ago. She was a heavy-set woman of forty who had been held hostage in a robbery some years ago. She had been a great source of support for Nadia.

She was one of very few people that could even remotely understand how Nadia suffered. How PTSD had shaped and crippled her life. Her friends and family all tried their best to be understanding and to help her through it, but the fact remained that unless one dealt with PTSD themselves, they could never truly understand how devastating it could be. Even though Camille was not a rape survivor, she was a survivor and the only person who understood what Nadia went through every day.

“I just didn’t have anything to say today,” Nadia said pulling her coat on. “Come on; I’ll give you a ride home.” She offered. She knew Camille took the bus and she didn’t mind driving her home after group.

“Oh, you are a doll,” Camille said following Nadia up the stairs to the door leading out to the church parking lot. “I think you are depressed,” Camille suggested as they crossed the parking lot.

“I’m not depressed,” Nadia argued unlocking the door to her beat-up 1981 Dodge Shadow. It was old, rundown, and breaking down all the time but Nadia refused to take public transportation or walk anywhere. Ever since her assault her nerves couldn’t take the stress. After that horrible night in the alley, Nadia had been unable to walk or ride public transit without having a complete breakdown. Her anxiety would consume her, and she would fall apart. She couldn’t bring herself to do it, so she had gotten her licence at seventeen and been driving everywhere ever since.

“Have you found a new job yet?” Camille asked getting into the passenger seat.

“No.” Nadia sighed climbing behind the wheel. “Unfortunately, I did not get a good reference when I got fired.” She had been fired three months ago for attacking a CEO that had grabbed her bottom as she walked passed. In hindsight, she probably should have filed a s****l harassment suit, and she might have overreacted. She had put the man in the hospital with a broken arm and a concussion. Since then she had not been able to find work, and money was getting tight. She had been forced to move back home because she could not pay her rent and her bank account was overdrawn. Things couldn’t possibly get any worse.

***

Dane Thompson stared blankly at the traffic ahead of him trying desperately to tune out the ranting woman in the seat to his right. He hated jealous women, never understanding why they would hook up with him knowing who he was. Dane couldn’t go anywhere without twenty women begging to go to bed with him. A woman had to have a thick skin and some serious confidence to be on his arm. If she didn’t, fights always broke out.

Now sure a catfight is usually a guy’s wet dream. Two hot honeys clawing at each other fighting over him, a boost to any man’s ego. Unless it happened all the time. The first few times when he was young it was pretty cool but then Dane grew up and became the guy that every girl was dying to get with, and the catfights got real old fast. Prying apart two women acting like trailer trash and swearing like sailors was not his idea of a fun time, and it usually resulted in him suffering collateral damage with claw marks and kicks to the shins.

As it was, he was on his way to the nightclub with his date. The night had not even started yet, and she was already ranting about the girl she had fought with the last time he took her out. It made him want to pull over and kick her out of the car. If she weren’t so good in bed, he wouldn’t be bothering with her at all. It was her only saving grace. Dane just wished she would shut up; his head was starting to ache.

The light turned red, and Dane came to a stop with a heavy sigh, it was going to be a long night. Suddenly the car slid forward into the intersection, and a loud crashing sound rang in his ears. They both flew forward being crushed against their seatbelts. The car coasted to a stop as Dane slammed hard on the brakes, his date screaming. With the commotion over, Dane gripped the stirring wheel tightly, his breathing erratic as he tried to come to terms with what had just happened.

Someone had just rear-ended him. He had just been in an accident. Someone had just hit his brand-new Porsche. Furious Dane removed his seatbelt; he was going to kill the bastard that just hit him.

***

Nadia stared at the mangled rear end of the silver Porsche she had just hit in quiet horror. Her poor brakes had just failed, and she had been unable to stop when the light had turned red. She had rammed full force right into the back end of the expensive sports car in front of her. The worst part about it was that she had been so broke she had let her insurance lapse and been driving around without coverage. She had no way to pay for the damage she had just caused.

Fear and panic gripped her when Nadia saw the driver’s door open, and the driver got out. He was around her age maybe slightly older. Very tall and very strongly built. He would have been very handsome with his dark chestnut hair and dark eyes if his features had not been twisted in outrage. He was advancing on her car quickly, and he slammed his hand on her destroyed hood yelling at her to get out of the car.

She was afraid, but Nadia removed her seatbelt and pushed open her door. She stepped out and faced the irate driver. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you blind?” He screamed at her.

“No, I’m sorry.” She pleaded with him, her voice shaky.

“Sorry? Sorry?” He snapped pointing at his damaged car. “Sorry is not going to fix my car.” He yelled walking over to inspect the damage. Nadia followed him hoping to calm him down. “Look at this!” He growled. The entire rear end had been caved in two feet, Nadia felt terrible. He had every right to be furious with her. She looked back at her car, and the front end didn’t look any better. It wasn’t even drivable. She would have to borrow her parents’ car from now on. “You had better have good insurance.” He threatened, taking his cell phone out of his pocket.

Her heart sped up at that comment. “Oh well, you see that’s the problem.” She began trying to explain her predicament. “I don’t have any insurance.” She reluctantly confessed.

His rage turned to frustrated shock as he shook his head and began to punch the keypad of his cellphone. “That’s just bloody perfect. I’m calling the cops.” He growled glaring at her. “When I’m through with you they are going to take your licence away.”

Her licence! She hadn’t even thought of that. The courts would take away her licence for driving without insurance. She wouldn’t be able to drive at all. She would be reduced to public transportation, to taking the bus or the train or walking. Her pulse became erratic, and the loud sounds of the street faded away until Nadia could hear nothing at all besides her own pounding heart. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. Nadia placed her hand on the mangled rear end of the Porsche trying to catch her breath, gasping for air and finding none. She felt dizzy, light headed and then the world went dark.

***

Dane had just lifted the cell phone to his ear when the woman that hit him started gasping for air. At first, he thought she was faking it for sympathy, but then her legs began to buckle, and Dane realized something was seriously wrong. He hung up and stepped closer to her, placing his hand on her elbow for support. “Are you alright? Miss, were you hurt?” Suddenly she fainted collapsing right there in the street. Dane caught her as she fell preventing her from hurting herself as she went down. He knelt on the asphalt with her lying limp and unconscious in his arms.

A second woman had jumped out of the car that had hit him and came running up. She was an older woman with sandy blonde curls and a pug nose. She was much heavier than the woman in his arms. “What happened?” She cried with obvious concern.

“Are you her mother?” Dane asked.

“No.” She snapped offended. She must not have been as old as she looked. “I am her friend. What did you do to her you brute?” She growled.

“I didn’t do anything. She just started gasping for air and then fainted.” He explained offended himself by the assumption that he would intentionally hurt a woman.

“What did you say to her?”

“That I was calling the cops and they were going to take her licence away.”

“You jerk!” The woman snapped.

“What? That is exactly what they will do she has no insurance.”

“She has suffered an anxiety attack, which you gave her.”

“What?” He said not following.

“She has PTSD taking away her licence is like holding a handgun to her head.”

“How the hell was I supposed to know that?” He growled. He wasn’t a bloody mind reader. “It’s not like she has a scarlet letter tattooed to her forehead.” He took out his cell phone again to dial 911.

“Now what are you doing?” The woman demanded.

“Calling an ambulance.”

“No!” She shouted.

“What now?” He growled with mounting aggravation.

“She has no coverage.”

“Of course, she doesn’t.” He snarled. Fed up Dane looked at the woman for instruction. “Well then just what the hell do you suggest I do with two trashed cars and an unconscious woman?”

“I don’t know.” She admitted. “She will be fine. She will come to again and be alright we need to get her out of the middle of the street.”

Dane looked down at the woman in his arms and then back at the two mangled vehicles. Neither one was drivable. He really should be calling the police; the damage was significant. Then again it was not like he couldn’t afford to pay to fix it anyway, and being as wealthy as he was and connected to the people he was bought a lot of leniencies when it came to the police and courts. He couldn’t imagine getting into too much trouble himself if he didn’t report the accident.

Dane looked back at the woman in his arms. Her face was flushed from her erratic breathing, but her skin was like porcelain. Her raven hair hung long over his arm and dragged along the asphalt. Beneath her coat and baggy clothes, she was thin, he could tell by the way she felt against him. It was a pity she suffered such a devastating disorder.

He could sympathize with her. After all, he remembered how much his sister Layla had suffered after her abduction all those years ago. She had gotten better with therapy and support from friends and family, not to mention her loving husband. She seemed happy and well-adjusted now, but he also understood that not everyone recovers.

“We have a duty to help people less fortunate than ourselves.” His father’s voice echoed in his mind. It was a lesson he had repeated throughout their upbringing. They gave to charities and supported foundations, but their father had meant more than that. He believed that doing for just one individual was as important as it was to give to charities because true charity meant helping not just seeking a tax write off.

For most people, those were just words, but for Dane’s father, it was a way of life. Dane had watched him repeatedly help people. His right-hand man of thirty-five years was one; then he helped a cancer patient by paying off her mortgage and medical bills so she could die me peace. Dane had seen firsthand how a little compassion could change lives. So, he had made his decision. Dane began to dial again.

“What are you going to do?” The older woman asked.

“I’m calling a tow truck and my car service. We can’t stay in the middle of the intersection all night someone is bound to call the police.”

It only took a short time for the car service to arrive. Dane scooped up the unconscious woman and placed her in the back seat. He then dealt with the tow truck operator who had just arrived. Offering to pay him a hefty tip to tow both cars back to his parents’ estate and write it up as a breakdown and not an accident. Which he was happy to do for a large sum. That taken care of Dane insisted that both women get in his car and ride with him. The older lady accepted, unwilling to abandon her young friend in her condition with a strange man.

His date, however, was not so cooperative. She was angry that he had taken on the other two women. She still wanted to go to the party they had been headed for before they were hit. She didn’t understand why he would bother himself with this rift raft. Annoyed himself with the turn the evening had taken Dane decided he did not wish to deal with her any further. He forced her to get into the car and promised to drop her off at the party on their way.

The promise had done little to pacify her bad mood since she now spent the duration of the ride complaining about the fact that he had promised to be at her side and how it was socially damaging for her to arrive unescorted. They reached the party and Dane opened the door assuring her that a woman as lovely as she could surely find another man inside who would be happy to escort her. She stepped out of the car still complaining and yelling about how cruel he was treating her and Dane shut the door thanking God for the silence. “Step on it before she decides to get back in.” He said to the driver.

“Your girlfriend is quite something.” The older woman commented.

“Not my girlfriend. Just a bad date. So, tell me where I am taking you two.”

“Well, she is staying at her parents’ place in Queens.”

“Queens.” He instructed the driver. Well since they were now mostly alone, there was no sense in being rude. “Since we are likely to be together for a little while longer let me introduce myself. My name is Dane Thompson.” He said offering his hand.

“Camille Harper.” She said shaking his hand. “You said, Dane Thompson? As in the Prince of New York?”

Dane laughed he had not heard that one in a while. When he was eighteen Star Magazine had done an article on celebrity children. The Next Generation, it had been called. Featuring some of his friends, his sister, and himself. The celebrity teens of the rockstar hall of farmers the Heathens. Their parents had moved on from rockstars to influential business tycoons in the music industry. Dane and Layla had come from a long line of successful musicians and business icons. Their family had been jokingly referred to more than once as the royal family of rock. Hence the magazine dubbed him the Prince of New York in their article. It had been a moniker that stuck.

“I have been called that.” He smiled confirming his identity.

She chuckled and shook her head. “Well, then Nadia sure knows who to hit.”

Dane looked at the woman at his side. So, her name was Nadia. “So, what do you suppose I should do about all this?” He asked.

“I honestly don’t know, but I do thank you for taking some mercy on her. She is a great girl. She has just had a run of bad luck. That’s the house over there.” Camille said pointing to a large house at the end of the block. The driver pulled in to the driveway, and as they got out of the car, Dane scooped up Nadia’s limp body cradling her against him bridal style he carried her from the back of the car.

As he stepped out with Nadia in his arms, he saw the curtains of the living room pull back, a face, and then it was gone. The front door flew open, and man and woman in their fifties came running out. “Oh, my lord! Camille, what happened?” The woman cried running over to Dane and stroking Nadia’s hair.

“She’s ok; she just fainted,” Camille assured the woman. “Kendra, Jim, this is Dane Thompson, he was nice enough to bring Nadia home. Dane this is Kendra and Jim Baker, Nadia’s parents.” Camille said making the introductions.

“Bring her home? Where is her car?” Her father asked worriedly.

“In my trunk,” Dane said bitterly.

“Excuse me?” Mr. Baker asked looking at Dane.

“There was an accident, and Nadia hit Mr. Thompson’s Porsche,” Camille explained.

“Oh dear.” Her mother gasped bringing her hand to her lips. “I hope no one was hurt.”

“No, but she fainted,” Dane explained. “She’s not all that heavy, but I would like to put her down somewhere.” He said pointing out that he was still carrying Nadia in his arms.

“Oh, of course, come in.” Mr. Baker said leading them inside. Dane followed him into the house and a sitting room just off the foyer. He gestured to the brown couch, and Dane laid Nadia down gently.

“Will she be ok?” Dane asked.

“We’ll see.”

“Will she wake up soon?”

“She usually stays out for a short while. Thank you for bringing her home.” Mrs. Baker said gratefully.

“I want to speak to her.” Dane insisted. He wasn’t leaving without dealing with this accident first.

“You are welcome to stay if you like.” Mrs. Baker offered. “I just made some cookies.” She smiled. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Why yes, I would, thank you,” Dane said with a smile following her into the kitchen.

***

Nadia opened her eyes and saw the old bookshelves in her parents’ sitting room. She sat up on the couch and looked around. She was in her parents’ house but how had she gotten here? The last thing she remembered was the intersection and that man on his cellphone. Nadia stood up and looked out the window. There was a black Lincoln town car parked out front in the driveway.

She started walking toward the laughing voices she heard in the kitchen. Coming around the corner, Nadia found her parents and Camille seated at the table with the man from the accident. The conversation faded away at the sight of her, and he rose from the table. Surprisingly he was still smiling.

He was very striking when he smiled, and there was something about him that was so familiar that she couldn’t place. “Beautiful, she’s awake.” He said coming around the table and walking right up to her. He reached out to take her arm, and Nadia pulled away. He paused and gave up his attempt to touch her then turned back to the table. “If you will all excuse us, but we have some unfinished business to discuss.” He said gesturing for Nadia to follow him back into the sitting room.

They were alone in the sitting room. Nadia sat on the couch, and he sat in the armchair across from her. “It’s Nadia, right?” He asked she nodded. “My name is Dane.”

“Nice to meet you.” She said. Well, she wasn’t sure if it was nice to meet him, but it seemed the thing to say at the moment. “I’m so very sorry about your car.”

“Me too, it was new,” Dane said only making her feel worse. “I’m sorry you don’t have any insurance. Would you care to tell me what you were doing downtown that caused you to slam into me?” She shifted awkwardly in her seat. “I think I have a right to know you just mangled my car.”

“I was leaving a support group.”

“For what AA? Were you drunk when you hit my car?” He asked sarcastically.

“No.” Nadia snipped.

“Post-Traumatic Stress?” He asked. Nadia stared at him stunned. How did he know? The question must have been clear on her face because he then said. “Your friend Camille told me.” There was an awkward silence. “What happened to you?” Nadia didn’t answer him; this man was a stranger. He would never understand. Dane slid to the edge of his seat and leaned forward resting his forearms on his knees. He looked her in the face and said. “My sister was abducted by a psychopath when I was eighteen. He had been stalking her for months. Killed her bodyguards and took her right out of her hotel room on the day of her wedding. We almost didn’t find her. She suffered from PTSD.”

Nadia felt a little more at ease by his confession. Maybe he was more understanding than she had initially thought. “I was sixteen. I missed the bus home, and I was walking to the train when I was raped. I got my licence right after, and I don’t take public transportation anymore. I can’t, when I try I…” she couldn’t finish just thinking about it made her anxious.

“So that’s why the panic attack when I said you would lose your licence?”

She felt her pulse speed up again. Nadia looked at him pleadingly. “I can’t lose my licence, I can’t take public transportation, I just can’t…” She said panicky; it was getting hard to breathe again.

Dane reached out for her hand to comfort her, and again Nadia recoiled from his touch. “Calm down; I didn’t call the police. What I don’t understand is for someone whose car means so much to her, why do you have no insurance?”

Nadia sat back against the couch. She might as well come completely clean. “Normally I do, but I lost my job a few months ago, and I haven’t been able to find one since. My money ran out. I lost my apartment and ended up back here. Then I couldn’t pay my insurance, and it lapsed. I know it was wrong, but I couldn’t take the bus, so I just drove the car anyways.” She whimpered feeling her bottom lip quiver as she tried not to cry.

“So then if you knew you were breaking the law why were you driving so recklessly?” Dane asked.

Nadia sighed and shook her head. It was all too much. “I wasn’t. My car is old and rundown. It’s always falling apart. I knew the brakes were bad, but I couldn’t afford to fix them. I meant to stop, I tried really, but the brakes failed. I am sorry. I wish I could take it all back.” She cried, a tear sliding down her cheek.

“Please don’t cry,” Dane said softly reaching up to wipe away her tear.

“Don’t touch me!” Nadia snapped causing him to pause. She didn’t like to be touched. She always got panicky when men got too close. Though Dane seemed like a nice enough guy, she didn’t trust him or any man outside her father and the pastor at the church.

Dane sat back in his seat. “How did you lose your job?” He asked looking completely relaxed and at home like she hadn’t just snapped at him. He was a man of poise and tremendous confidence.

“I was fired for attacking a CEO,” Nadia admitted with humiliation.

“Why did you do that?” He asked with surprise.

“He was a pig, and he grabbed my butt when I walked by.” She said defending herself and then her tone softened. “I broke his arm in two places and gave him a concussion. I may have overreacted.”

“A little.” Dane agreed. “I’m sure a lawsuit would have been sufficient.”

“Perhaps, but I wasn’t thinking, I just reacted. I had taken self-defence classes, and they just kicked in. I got fired, now no one will hire me now. They are all afraid I’ll beat up my boss or something.”

“What is it you used to do?” Dane asked.

“I was a secretary.” She shrugged. Nadia took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. He had stunning eyes so dark and deep; a woman could get lost in them. “So, what now?” She asked wondering what he intended to do to her.

Dane sat silently thinking his hands folded almost regally in his lap. He had an aristocratic air about him from the expression on his handsome face to the way he carried himself and spoke. He was an educated man, and she found herself wondering just what sort of man he was. “Well the way I see it we have a problem. Both our cars are trashed, and you have no money, no job, and no insurance to pay for it. So, we have two solutions. The first is that I could pay to fix both our vehicles, and you could pay me back in instalments.”

It sounded wonderful, but there was still a problem. “I can’t pay you back; I have no job.”

“I have a solution for that too,” Dane said. “I have a position that I’ve been trying to fill for the last month. I had it in mind to hire a man, but I suppose I can make an exception in this case. You can work for me as my personal assistant, it’s a live-in position, and it pays very well. I will deduct payments every month from your pay until you have paid me back for the damages.”

She was taken aback. “You are going to offer me a job?” She asked in disbelief.

“Yes. If you are interested.”

“You don’t even want to see a résumé?” She asked.

“Do you have one on you?”

“No.”

“Then no. I don’t need it. I’m going to take a leap of faith and assume that you know how to answer a phone and book an appointment. Besides,” he said in an afterthought as he picked an invisible piece of lint off his jeans, “if it doesn’t work out I can just fire you and come up with a new arraignment.”

Nadia could not believe her ears. Was he offering to fix her car and give her a job? It was a miracle. She hit his car, and he offered her this gift, but she was not sure if she could live with a strange man. “Do I have to live with you?”

“It is part of the job. You’ll be on call twenty-four hours a day. It is easier if you live with me. You’ll get full benefits after six months, and two weeks’ paid vacation each year.” He waited for her response, but she remained quiet. The job sounded wonderful, but living with a strange man, could her nerves handle it? “Look I have fifty résumés sitting on my desk at home of men who would give anything to be offered this job. You can take it, or I can give it to one of them and sue you for the damages.”

“I’ll take the job.” She said quickly. Being sued would be a nightmare. She couldn’t handle any more misfortune.

“Great.” Dane smiled standing up. “I suggest you pack tonight. I will send a car for you in the morning. If the driver makes you uncomfortable, you are welcome to bring your lovely mother or a friend to help you move in. I will see you tomorrow.” Dane said offering her a warm smile. “Don’t worry Nadia; life can only get better.” She wished she could believe him. She followed Dane to the kitchen where he said goodnight to the others. “Well, it was very nice to meet you all.” He said shaking her parents’ hand. “Goodnight Miss. Harper. Mr. and Mrs. Baker.” Dane said politely.

“Good-bye Mr. Thompson and thank you for bringing her home safely.” Her mother said shaking his hand and showing him out.

Nadia’s eye’s widened at the mention of his name. She looked at Camille with surprise. She had thought he looked familiar, but she would have never guessed who he turned out to be. Camille nodded with a grin as if she could read Nadia’s mind. Nadia watched her mother show him out. She could not believe her luck; she had just accepted a job as Dane Thompson’s personal assistant. Nadia was, as of now, the right hand of the Prince of New York.

“So, what happened?” Camille asked eager to know what they had discussed.

“Yes, is he going to press charges?” Her father asked pulling a chair out for her.

“He seems nice.” Her mother said coming back into the kitchen. “I hope he won’t sue. What did he say?” Her mother asked taking a seat at the table. Everyone was waiting for her answer.

“He gave me a job.” She announced. Everyone cheered and congratulated her. It was about time something good had happened to her. She just hoped she could hold it together and not screw it up.