In From The Cold

Chapter 4
Love is Blue

"Well, I think I better call it a night," Nicole said when they'd both polished off the last of their drinks. "I've probably drank more than I should." She reached for her clutch, picking it up off the counter.

Castle watched as she opened it. Thinking she was going to leave money for the server, he hurriedly reached out to grab her wrist. The movement startled her, and she jerked, glancing at him in surprise as she dropped her clutch.

"Sorry," he mumbled, looking thoroughly contrite. He offered her a small smile. "Just… I… er… you don't need to pay," he stammered out. "The drinks are covered by the event."

"Oh," Nicole let out a nervous laugh. "Silly me."

"Here," Castle said, bending down to retrieve her clutch off the floor. He handed it back to her with an apologetic smile. "Sorry."

She shook her head, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Don't be," Nicole said, her eyes glistening with warmth. "It was really nice meeting you, Rick."

"It was my pleasure, Nicole," he replied with a grin.

He watched as Nicole glanced around nervously, her chest expanding and contracting as she breathed in and out. She looked back at him, as if making a decision on impulse. Nicole popped open her clutch and withdrew a small flat card. She placed it on the bar counter and gently pushed it towards him.

"Room 447," she hurriedly whispered, and then she was off.

Castle stood stock still, astonished and enthralled, watching as she strolled away, hips swaying enticingly as she disappeared into the crowd. He shifted on his feet and stared down at the key card. It sat there on the bar, beckoning to him with the promise of more time with the sexy librarian if he should choose. His brow furrowed as he contemplated picking it up and following her. Weeks earlier, he'd sworn off such rendezvous, but Nicole Brennon was something very different than he'd expected.

He swallowed as the notion ruminated around in his mind.

Over the last few years, he'd gone for shallow and vapid. Most had been blondes, with the occasional brunette, but those were rare. He mostly stuck with blondes. And all of them had been fine with their relationship being purely physical. There was nothing to invest with them. They were a passing thing. But that would be different with a woman like Nicole. With her, he could drop the façade and be real. Emotions would come in to play. They could have deep and intellectually stimulating discussions. She was someone he could share more than a steamy night with.

Castle hadn't expected to find such a woman so soon after deciding it was time to move on and find someone real to be with. She was bright, intelligent, and, needless to say, exceedingly beautiful. There was no question in his mind that he found her sexually attractive; he'd be blind and insane if he did not. But he also enjoyed her companionship. Simply talking with her, about nothing at all, had been enjoyable. She intrigued him. He'd only known her for a brief time, but he was already utterly fascinated by her. And he found himself wishing—and wanting—to spend more time with her.

Making a split decision, one he hoped he didn't regret, Castle snatched the key card off the counter, and discreetly made his leave of the party being held in his honor.

XXX

Forty-three minutes later, he stepped off the elevator, having arrived on the fourth floor. It had not been as easy to escape from his party as anticipated.

His agent, Paula Haas, had spotted him before he could sneak out. She dragged him into a meet and greet with some of the city's top critics and book reviewers. He managed to compress that down to a handful of minutes. After which Gina had nabbed him for a rather lengthy talk with Black Pawn executives, already eager for a seventh Nikki Heat book. He assured them that ideas were already percolating and new chapters weren't that far off before his editor/ex-wife released her vice.

As he made his way for the ballroom exit, Castle had spotted his mother. She was drinking a large flute of champagne, clearly looking for him. It was so very tempting to evade her search, but she had been so good to him over the last couple of years, he couldn't avoid her.

"Ah, there you are, darling," his mother offered him a bright smile as he joined her. "Enjoying the party?"

After a moment's hesitation, he nodded tentatively. "More so than I had expected," he admitted with a modest grin.

"I recognize that look," Martha tapped his chest with the back of her hand. "You met someone. And…" her eyebrows rose in astonishment, "you like her… a lot."

Castle conceded with a slight blush. Only his mother could make him feel like he was back in boarding school with a boyish crush. She eyed him uncertainly.

"But I thought you'd—?"

"I had," he assured her.

She gave him a pointed look. "Then why are you attempting to sneak out of your own party?"

He frowned as he looked down at the marble floor. "I don't know," he answered honestly as he returned his mother's questioning gaze. "I just have to see her again."

"Well, okay, dear," Martha relented, stepping aside. "Don't let me hold you back. Just… be careful, Richard."

He paused, shared a long look with the woman who raised him. "I will, Mother."

Presently, Castle looked both ways down the fourth-floor hallway, bouncing anxiously on the balls of his feet. He could not say whether or not it was from anticipation or nerves. It was certainly an odd sensation to have. After taking several deep breaths, Castle set off in the direction of Room 447. As he walked down the hallway, nagging little doubts started to creep into his mind.

Was he making the right choice? It almost felt like a backwards slide from what he had been intending to do since his last fling. Meaningless hook-ups with women he'd just met at parties was something he had decided to avoid. Yet here he was, making his way to the hotel suite of a woman he'd just met, with the intent of doing just that. It was impulsive, and completely contrary to his decision to refrain from such liaisons, and instead concentrate on finding a real woman, with whom he could have a real relationship with.

But Nicole is real, his mind argued.

She wasn't some bimbo with fake… assets. Yes, of course, she was indisputably gorgeous. There was no way of hiding that when she'd attended the party wearing that form fitting dress. And he was attracted to her, but not just physically. From their brief conversation at the bar, it was decidedly apparent that the woman had a keen and perceptive mind, which probably came from being a librarian and reading all those books. She was obviously highly intelligent.

That was what attracted him to her.

It most definitely wasn't because she resembled a certain late detective.

His pace slowed.

It absolutely wasn't because of that. No, he shook his head. It had nothing to do with that. Castle refused to even consider such a notion. If such a thing were true, then he was a sick, depraved individual. It would be cruel and wrong, not just to Kate Beckett's memory, but to Nicole. She was a living, breathing person, and to use her to fulfill a long held fantasy about being with a woman who was now dead would be such a terrible thing to do.

And Richard Castle would not be that man.

He stopped in his tracks, and stared down at the carpeted floor, brow furrowed as he thought, hard and deep. Was he that man? Perhaps, Castle reluctantly admitted. He would be lying if he said he didn't still love Beckett. He would always love her. But there was no way he could ever be with her. And he wouldn't allow Nicole, a woman he generally liked and was interested in, to become some sort of second placeholder for a dead woman. That would just be wrong. So very wrong. And Castle was definitely not that kind of man. He firmly believed that. Even if he'd never decided to stop his philandering ways, he would like to have believed he would never be that pathetic or perverted.

And he would not do that to a woman like Nicole. She deserved better than that. He deserved better. They both did.

A new sense of determination flowed through his veins as he picked up the pace, glancing up at the room numbers as he marched by each door. Castle understood where he was, both mentally and emotionally. And it wasn't in a place to start a proper relationship with a woman he'd just met. Yes, he still intended on going to Nicole's hotel room. However, his intention, once there, was not the same as before. He was relatively positive that after he explained it all, Nicole would understand. Perhaps in the future, when he was properly ready, they could meet up again and make a try at something.

It just wasn't going to be tonight.

Arriving at Room 447, Castle paused briefly, taking some time to collect himself. His mind was still somewhat jumbled with all his wrangled thoughts. Steeling himself for turning down any advances, Castle retrieved the key card from his pocket and inserted it into the locking mechanism. There was an electronic buzz, and the light flashed green as the tumblers disengaged. Castle grabbed the handle and twisted it down, pushing the door open.

The interior of the hotel suite was mostly dark, save for a light coming from what he presumed was the bedroom. Pursing his lips, Castle inhaled quickly through his nose, gearing up to face the alluring librarian from Nebraska. He pocketed the key card and took three tentative steps into the room, halting at the threshold to the bedroom. He peered inside, catching a glimpse of her lying on the bed. His pulse quickened at the sight of so much exposed skin. Nicole lay sprawled across the bedsheet in an alluring set of black lingerie. His eyes lingered on the display, drinking in the sight of her long, toned legs, and her flat and firm stomach.

"Rick?"

Castle stumbled, caught off guard, and literally tripped over his own two feet as he emerged from the shadows and entered the dimly lit room. Nicole sat up, moving with a sensual grace that had him reconsidering his earlier self-pledge to not jump into bed with her. But she was making it so very difficult to remain firmly resolve. He shook his head. Firm was not a word he should be thinking about. He shifted, uncomfortable, trying not to stare at the wondrous glorious sight before him.

God, she was beautiful, intoxicating… extraordinary.

He faltered at that last word choice. It was too close to how he so often described a certain detective.

"Rick?" repeated Nicole.

Her concerned voice snapped him back to the present. Castle swallowed hard, and flicked his eyes up to look at her, avoiding lingering on all the delightfully exposed flesh. Nicole's head was tilted somewhat, and her blonde hair was combed back behind her ears, revealing more of her gorgeous face. Her expressive brown eyes were no longer covered by the prescription lenses, appearing more hazel in the warm glow coming from the sconce light fixtures mounted at the head of the bed. It gave her this magical, almost ethereal look.

She was absolutely exquisite.

"Nicole, I… um… I just…," he stammered out her name and barely anything else, keeping his eyes up and away from her delectably laced covered breasts. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips as her chest rose and fell as she took in several breaths. A thin sheen of sweat manifested on his forehead as his blood warmed with raw and wanton desire.

He was beginning to lose his grip on the delicate control over his attraction towards this beautiful woman. He could feel it slipping away. Before he lost any more ground, Castle tore his gaze away from her, dropping his head to stare at the floor, silently willing his logic and reason to win over his baser, more carnal instincts.

"I'm sorry," he spun around, putting his back to her. His shoulders hunched as he took in a ragged breath. "I can't. I'm sorry. I wish… it's not that I don't want to—I do, Lord knows I do—but I can't. At least, not yet." Feeling stronger as he continued to talk, Castle straightened his back and slowly moved around to face Nicole. "It's not you," he asserted, placing a hand on his chest. "It's me. I know how cliché and silly that sounds, but it's true. I really like you, Nicole… a lot. But… It wouldn't be fair to you. So, I'm sorry, but I can't do this right now," he made a feeble gesture towards her undressed appearance.

"Why?" she asked, as if it was a casual question. It didn't even seem to bother her that he was rejecting her advances.

"My muse," he answered simply with a shrug of his shoulders. "I didn't tell you before, but… she died." His jaw tensed as he felt the buildup of grief-driven tears. He paused, taking a deep breath to quell the rising tide and keep it at bay.

Later, when he was alone, he would allow himself to grieve properly, probably for the first time since her funeral. If meeting Nicole had taught him anything, it was that it was possible to move on. He just wasn't ready to do that.

Shifting on his feet, he tilted his head to the side and looked down at Nicole, sitting there on the bed, still in nothing but black lingerie, waiting expectantly for more.

"I was in love with her," he confessed, not sure why. "Still. Probably forever will be. And I think I still need time to come to terms with that and her passing."

"I understand," Nicole nodded, stretching her arm out to snag the fluffy material of a hotel bathrobe that was resting at the foot of the bed. She stood up in a fluid, graceful motion, and slipped it on over her shoulders. Bowing her head, she pulled the robe around her alluring figure, securing the sash around her slim waist. She brought her eyes up and looked at him.

Castle shifted uneasily, seeing something in her eyes that didn't quite make sense.

"I understand," Nicole repeated, stepping closer to him. "But before you leave. I need to tell you something."

"What?" Castle managed to squeak out, feeling slightly flustered by her close proximity. He could smell her perfume; a delightful mixture of vanilla and cherries. It was so very familiar. The synapses in his brain crackled, finally putting the pieces together just barely before she spoke her next words.

"Castle, it's me… And I love you, too."