“When I first met you, I believed nothing would happen. I didn’t need the complication. Even though I wanted you, I still refused you. But you bulldozed me, dazzled me, and made me so damn grateful you refused to take no for an answer. I told Gina the truth—you’re mine. You’re the one whose hands I want on me, and be damned sure I’m the only one who touches you. You’ve been mine from the beginning, even when I refused to acknowledge it.”
Her eyes shone with happiness. “I came into this arrangement looking for sex. Nothing more, nothing less. You’re the person I didn’t know I needed but always wished I had and the reality is more amazing than I could ever imagine.”
He smiled, feeling like the Grinch after his heart expanded. The blood rushed to his head as he considered the implications of her statement. She wanted him as much as he did her. She returned the smile, and Roman thought himself a pussy because one smile could drop him to his knees. He wanted to continue the conversation, but felt her bare foot creep up his pants legs. The blood rushing to his head took a quick trip downward, and he decided to spend the rest of the night inside her. “How bout I get the check?”
***
“What’s going on in your head tonight?” They lay in the quiet, Alexandra’s head was on his chest listening to his heartbeat, the aftershocks of her orgasm still running through her body while she contemplated Roman’s question. She rolled away from him, staring at the wall where he’d taken her when they’d first walked in his house. Another broken rule, coming to each other’s houses, but neither seemed to care when they left the restaurant.
“Nothing. I came back here to get away from my problems, not discuss them.” She jerked back when he slapped her ass, glaring while she rubbed the spot he’d just hit to take out some of the sting.
“Don’t do that.” He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her so her back was flush with his chest, pressing a kiss to the back of her head. “We’ve had an amazing few weeks and a really great dinner, so you can’t cry foul or tell me I have no business asking you what’s wrong now.”
She sighed; he was right. They’d been doing this weird friends-with-benefits deal since he’d taken her outside the bar, and dinner solidified it. She came to the club, they had sex, and then they talked. An unintended side effect of their relationship, they both found in each other a good listener.
Telling someone you really didn’t know about your problems was refreshing. No judgment from either party, and he didn’t dish out advice based on how he assumed she’d react. But no matter how many Romagasms he gave her, he was destined to be her good-time guy, a walking orgasm-maker. Blair knew she came to the club, and while her sister and mother wouldn’t care, her grandparents may have a heart attack if they knew. She was too damn old to worry about her family’s feelings, but if this was serious, she would have to introduce them.
“My job is bothering me,” she acknowledged. “My boss said some cryptic message earlier, and I’m trying to figure out what it all means.”
He moved, shifting their positions so she lay on the bed and he propped up on his elbow, looking down at her. She traced her finger down the line of his chest, loving the grooves. He put his hand on hers, stopping her wandering. “You want to expand your statement?”
“Nope,” she said, lifting up so she could kiss him. “But before I forget, I won’t be able to meet you on Saturday at the club. I’m going to a charity event and won’t get out until late.” He settled back down on the bed, dragging her over to him so she could lay her head on his chest.
“Survive and Thrive?”
She tensed. Survive and Thrive was the charity honoring her grandfather. “Not this week. But I am going later on this month. You know it?”
“Club Valentine sponsored the event.”
“Great.” She tried to sound casual while her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. “Are you going to the event?”
“Me? Nah. I have no business trying to rub elbows; I just want my name on the list. I know what it’s like to be orphaned. Someone very close to me left two small children.” He rolled away from her, getting up to go to the bathroom before she answered him.
The relief she felt in knowing he wouldn’t be there filled her with shame. Don’t take anyone to bed you can’t bring to the light, her mother had taught her, but Alexandra had never been the best student. When she’d started this, she expected to get her rocks off and go on her merry way. She never expected their relationship to get this far. Roman came out of the bathroom, bathed in the light, unfazed by his nudity. He kneeled on the bed, leaning over her.
“Alexandra.” He reached for his shirt, not looking at her. “I’m exhausted, and I know you’re swamped with work. What do you say we cut this short and I take you back to your car?”
“Um…okay?” Why was he suddenly treating her like she had the plague? Still feeling raw from their earlier conversation, she wrapped the sheet around her while she searched for her clothing. Of course, nothing was within easy reach, and she risked further embarrassment by walking across the room and grabbing her panties. She threw the skirt on—she’d just forgo panties—and pulled her top over her head sans bra. He jingled his keys, his face drawn and mouth tipped down. He’d been fine minutes before, so why the sudden brush-off? She couldn’t stay silent.
“Is something wrong? Did I offend you?”
The side of his jaw ticked. He was gritting his teeth so hard she feared he’d chip one. “No. I need to go to the club, and we need to keep this in perspective.” She picked up her panties on the way out the door.
13
The pit in Alexandra’s stomach grew when she snagged the envelope from her office. She bypassed the living room in favor of the kitchen, pouring a tall glass of pinot noir. She rubbed the back of her neck, shoring herself up for the contents of this package. After Roman’s earlier brush-off, she’d come home and gone to bed, but the glow of her alarm clock mocked her. She’d lain awake, worst-case scenarios running through her head until she gave up the futile idea of any rest.
Several articles fell out of the envelope when she shook it. She picked up the first one, so thin she put it back on the table so it wouldn’t rip. The creases were soft when she unfolded it, the half page detailing the plane crash so long before. She smiled when she stared at the picture of her father in front of the courthouse. He looked like her own version of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, the fearless crusader who fought for the underdog. She’d never seen the article, which detailed the crash. There were two dead, both indiscernible due to the fire in the cockpit, but the flight manifest helped identify the bodies. She turned to the next article, as old as the first, months before the crash.
Misrepresentation: Local Lawyer Accused of Bilking Clients of Millions .
She put her hand over her mouth in disbelief while she scoured the article, which detailed a list of financial crimes her father was suspected of committing against his clients. Overbilling, charging for hours not worked, and various other accusations. She remembered the months prior to the accident—the fights, the tension—but she had no idea about any of this; she’d been shielded, protected, and too young to realize what had happened. The third article, soon after the crash, discussed how the case against him was closed. They had found him guilty, seized some of his assets, but left her mom alone. She picked up her phone, needing answers.
“Hello.” She heard the raspy voice of her mother on the other end. “Alexandra?” Alexandra opened her mouth but no words emerged, only a strangled cry. “Alexandra!”