Kitabı oku: «The By Request Collection», sayfa 15
Four
“The first few months after my rescue were almost unbearable,” Roman told her. “I couldn’t stop thinking about the men who didn’t make it out alive. The ones who were killed in front of me, in cold blood. The survivor guilt was worse than the actual torture. I would have given my life for any one of those men. The scars will never go away, but I’ve made peace with myself. It wasn’t easy, though.”
She gazed over at him, her eyes filled with pain and regret. “I used to feel as though, because of everything that happened between us, if it hadn’t been for me, you would have never joined the military in the first place. Like, maybe if I wasn’t so hard on you...if I could have forgiven you...” She shrugged. “It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, I know.”
The idea that she felt guilt over his leaving both surprised and disturbed him. “Gracie, my joining up had nothing to do with you. I screwed up. I was arrogant and cocky and I messed with the wrong people. Even if you had forgiven me I wouldn’t have stayed because then your life would have been in danger, too. Besides, the military is in my blood. I fought it for a long time, but it’s where I was meant to be.”
What she didn’t realize was that if it hadn’t been for her, he may not have even survived the torture. Picturing her face, believing that if he endured he might see her again, had given him a reason to live as he watched his fellow soldiers die, picked off one by one as the rest had been forced to watch. One of those men had been his closest friend. A husband and father of three. To this day Roman would still give anything to switch places with him. But all he could do now was make sure that the man’s family was taken care of financially. He’d set up a trust for them in their father’s name. Even that hadn’t assuaged the guilt, but it made it easier to live with the pain.
He leaned forward, closing the gap between them, and took Gracie’s hand. It was so small and delicate compared to his own. And she didn’t even try to pull away. “Trust me when I say you were better off staying away from me. And you hold no responsibility for my mistakes. I was the one who turned my back on you. I didn’t trust you. I was young and stupid and arrogant. It was my fault.”
The limo pulled up to the Metropol hotel where the fund-raiser was being held but she didn’t let go of his hand or break eye contact. The driver steered the car into the parking structure to the VIP entrance underground. When they stopped, an attendant opened the door but Gracie just sat there looking at Roman, then she squeezed his hand.
“Roman, when I heard the false reports that you were killed, I thought I couldn’t feel any worse. Then I learned of your capture, and the torture...” She paused and took a deep breath. “I know that it was nothing compared to what you were going through, but I want you to know that I thought about you and prayed for you every day.”
Deep down he knew that. Maybe that was why he still felt such a strong bond to her. “Gracie, that means more to me than you could ever know.”
* * *
Gracie had helped plan more charity functions than she could count, and she had to admit that the Welcome Home decorating committee had seriously outdone themselves this time. Red, white and blue tulle swirled tastefully overhead, garnished with American flag balloons and crepe streamers. The tables had been draped in white linen with blue cloth napkins and red rose centerpieces. The decor screamed patriotism and valor. And in the center of it all against the back wall a slideshow of the wounded warriors and their families the foundation had assisted played on a huge screen.
The crowd was a who’s who of Chicago, with a handful of Hollywood personalities mixed in. From where she stood she could see Roman mingling with the other guests. He looked damned fine in a tux, and the slightly rumpled hair coupled with the battle scars made him look rugged and a little dangerous. Yet somehow he fit right in.
One of the tallest and biggest men there, Roman had turned heads the minute they walked through the door. She felt an odd sense of pride to be there with a man whom she considered to be by far the sexiest, most gorgeous in the room. Only they weren’t there together, she reminded herself. Not in a romantic way. She had no claim to him, nor did she want one. Though she couldn’t deny that a tiny part of her, deep down inside, wished she did.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t so tiny. And she hated herself for it. For being so weak. And irrational. For wanting a man who did her and her family so wrong. But her body kept betraying her.
Roman glanced her way, saw her watching him, and a sly grin curled his lips. He said something to the man he’d been speaking with then headed her way, and her heart shifted wildly in her chest.
When he took her hand in the limo she’d just about melted into a puddle on the leather seat. She’d wanted to pull away, and scold him for being so personal, but she just couldn’t make herself do it. It was hard enough to fight the desire to launch herself into his arms and hold him.
But he wasn’t hers to hold.
Though as he came up next to her, sliding her hand back into his would have felt as natural as breathing.
Damn him.
“See something you like?” he asked, a suggestive lilt in his tone. One that she was sure was meant to rattle her cage. And it worked.
She gestured randomly in the direction he’d come from, sighed wistfully and said, “Yes, but I think he’s married.”
Roman threw his head back and laughed. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Yes, she was, and he knew her too well. She had to fight the irrational urge to lean in close, so that their arms touched.
Back in the old days Roman had never been shy about physical affection in public. He’d always held her hand, no matter where they were.
When she started college she hadn’t had a whole lot of sexual experience. Too many times she’d been deceived by men who were only interested in her money and family name. Trust had been a difficult concept to grasp back then. And though she had sacrificed her innocence to one of the men before Roman, she had never surrendered her heart. Sex had been something fun to do, but not emotionally satisfying. She had never come close to connecting emotionally to anyone the way she had with Roman. When they’d finally crossed the line from friends to lovers, she’d been so ready, and so desperately in love with him, making love had been truly magical.
And she had the sneaking suspicion that it still would be, not that she would ever find out.
“Are you having a good time?” she asked him.
“Better than I thought I would. I’m not big on large crowds.”
“Then why did you come?”
“I couldn’t let the most beautiful woman here show up without a date.”
She glared at him, though a smile hovered just below the surface. “This is not a date.”
He shrugged. “So you keep saying.”
She heard someone call her name and looked away from Roman to see Dax Caufield, the newest addition to the state senate, making a beeline for them, flashing that renowned campaign smile. Dax was a typical politician, but a decent guy. She had no doubt that with his good looks and charm he would eventually work his way up the Washington food chain. Though she didn’t agree with all of his politics, in a world where lies and half-truths were almost expected, he seemed to be a genuinely good and honest man who believed in his positions. He could be a little overbearing, and a touch arrogant, but that usually went along with the territory. He always struck her as honest and morally sound, so much so that for a short time, for his current state senate seat, she had been an assistant campaign manager. Working behind the scenes, using her experience as an event planner, she’d arranged most of his local speaking engagements and fund-raising events, though it had been the volunteers who did the majority of the work. If there was one thing she excelled at, it was delegation. And because Dax was so popular and well liked, finding people to help had never been an issue.
Still, though he was very attractive and charismatic, he couldn’t hold a candle to Roman.
“Grace!” he said, beaming as he gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so glad you could be here!”
“I wouldn’t have missed it,” she said, and turned to Roman. “Roman, this is State Senator Dax Caufield. He sponsored this event.”
“Roman Slater,” Dax said, vigorously shaking Roman’s hand. “It’s an honor to meet you. I’ve heard good things about you. And let me say thank you for your service.”
Roman nodded, but didn’t smile. He was typically rather gregarious but something in his eyes said Dax had rubbed him the wrong way. She was curious to know why, since Roman didn’t even know him.
Dax hooked an arm around Gracie’s shoulders and told Roman, “This woman is a godsend. She was indispensable during my campaign and she helped to plan this event. I don’t know what I would have done without her.”
“I think you may be exaggerating a little,” Grace said with a smile. “But I did what I could to help.”
“It’s a privilege to have a true war hero with us tonight,” Dax told Roman.
“Every soldier is a hero,” Roman said sharply. “And deserves the same honor.”
His tone took Gracie aback, but before the situation could get awkward, or escalate, someone called to Dax and he turned his attention to Gracie, his smile never wavering. “I’d like to speak with you later about a few ideas I had for the foundation. In the meantime work your magic.”
Gracie smiled. “You know I will.”
He winked, then said to Roman, “Have a good time.”
When he was gone, Roman said, “I don’t like that guy.”
Puzzled, Gracie asked, “Why?”
Frowning, he shrugged. “Just a feeling. And what did he mean by work your magic?”
“Let’s just say that I have a gift for fund-raising.”
Roman looked around. “Then you’ve got your work cut out for you. This is quite the guest list. Is there anyone here who isn’t rich and famous?”
“Not at ten grand a ticket.”
His brows tipped upward. “Is that what I’m paying to be here?”
“Not exactly. I pulled some strings.”
For the next half hour or so Gracie introduced Roman around and word spread fast of the “genuine” war hero in their midst. At one point she completely lost track of him, only to see him later on the dance floor with a very popular and very young Hollywood starlet. They were talking and laughing, and she was looking as if she wanted to eat Roman up as a midnight snack.
A wave of jealousy gripped Gracie so intensely she felt like throwing up.
What was wrong with her? She had no right to be jealous. She had no right to feel anything at all. She knew for a fact that Roman was single, so it only made sense that he would socialize and flirt. And it wasn’t as if he was there as her real date. She’d said it herself: they were only there as acquaintances.
But knowing that didn’t make her feel any better. In fact, it only made her feel worse.
Roman glanced over and caught her watching before she could avert her eyes. So when she did look away, it appeared as if she was trying not to get caught staring. Which of course was exactly the case.
She just couldn’t seem to win tonight.
“Hey, you!”
She turned to find her sister Eve approaching with a dazzling smile filled with so much love and affection it warmed Gracie’s heart. While Gracie favored their mother’s side of the family, Eve was a Winchester through and through. Tall, athletic and elegantly beautiful, Eve had the trademark Winchester green eyes and a dazzling smile. Her hair was perfect, her makeup flawless, and her dress sleek and stylish. No one who didn’t know her would guess that underneath the glamorous facade lurked a ruthless businesswoman. Nor would they know that despite her svelte figure, she would soon be trading her sleek size-zero wardrobe for maternity clothes, which had inspired Gracie to consider a designer maternity line of her own. “Hey back, beautiful! You’re positively glowing.”
Eve hugged her and air-kissed her on each cheek. “And you look lovely as always. Is that dress one of your designs?”
Grace shook her head. “It’s Armani.”
As much as she loved her own fashions, to wear them to a function for charity felt arrogant and tacky, as though she was a walking billboard for herself. She was proud of her accomplishments, but too humble to be so forward and flashy.
“How have you been feeling?” she asked Eve.
“Pretty good. A little queasy in the mornings, and I’ve been tired, but I can’t complain.”
Gracie gazed around the room looking for her soon-to-be brother-in-law. Though he and Eve had been through a rough time, it had only brought them closer together, and made their love for each other and their commitment to their relationship that much stronger. In a way she envied her sisters for finding the loves of their lives. Had it not been for Roman’s deceit, she might be married with a family of her own. She’d dated casually over the years, but always made building her business her main priority. She’d always just assumed that when the right one came along, she would know. She would feel that spark of excitement and attraction. The one she’d felt the first time she laid eyes on Roman all those years ago.
But she hadn’t even come close.
“Is Brooks here?” she asked her sister.
“He was called out of town on business. But he’ll be back for the party at the children’s hospital site Sunday. Everyone’s excited to see the progress being made on the construction.”
“I really hoped that Nora and Reid would be here, so I could thank him.” Reid Chamberlain, her future brother-in-law, owned the hotel and had graciously donated the ballroom for the night, as well as posh rooms to the foundation’s most generous out-of-town guests.
Eve put a hand on Gracie’s shoulder and then asked in a hushed voice, “How are you holding up, baby? Are you all right?”
Holding up? The question struck her as odd, since Eve knew that Gracie loved formal functions. Especially fund-raisers. Schmoozing with the wealthy and divesting them of their inheritances and trust fund money were skills she excelled at. “Fine, why?”
“It must be difficult seeing Roman here. I didn’t even know he was on the guest list.”
Oh, that. She winced a little. How was she supposed to explain this one?
“I suppose it’s fitting considering his military status. And his financial success. He’s certainly made a name for himself in the past two years. It’s hard not to be impressed.”
It was very impressive, but for Gracie not at all surprising. She’d always known that someday he would be an incredible success. He had been as driven and dedicated to his studies and his career as Gracie. It was one of the reasons they had connected so instantly in college.
“He actually wasn’t on the guest list,” she said.
Eve’s brow wrinkled with confusion. “Oh. He came as someone’s guest?”
“Um, yeah.” Gracie hoped she would leave it at that.
But of course she didn’t. “Whose?”
“Well...”
Eve folded her arms, narrowed her eyes and flashed that don’t-screw-with-me look Gracie had seen countless times growing up, and said in a motherly voice, “Gracie...?”
She had no choice but to fess up. “Me. He came here with me.”
Her outrage made Gracie wince. “Why?”
“It’s not what you think. It’s not a date. We aren’t back together, or getting back together. It’s just business.”
“Considering the way he’s looking at you right now, I find that a little hard to believe.”
Gracie looked over to where Roman was now speaking with one of Hollywood’s most well-known power couples and an Illinois state representative. But his eyes were on her. He smiled and winked.
Oh hell. Why did he have to go and do that? Especially in front of her sister.
“I rest my case,” Eve said.
Gracie turned back to her sister. “The truth is, Daddy asked me to bring him.”
Eve closed her eyes and sighed deeply. “Oh, honey, what is he making you do now?”
Apparently even her sister thought their father’s overreaching was inappropriate. “He thinks Roman is up to something and he asked me to...well...”
Eve regarded her pensively. “To what?”
“He was hoping I might be able to find out what Roman is up to. Since he and I were so close before.”
Eve was not happy. “Who the hell does he think you are? James Bond?”
“That’s exactly what I thought, but he guilted me into it.” As usual. “He said he can’t take another scandal.”
Eve took her hands. “Honey, I know Daddy is very sick, and his time is limited, but you don’t have to do this. Not if it’s upsetting to you. There are other ways he can get what he needs. After everything Roman put you through...”
“It’s really okay,” Gracie said, and realized that she meant it. “He and I have unresolved issues. Maybe it’s time we clear the air. And let go of the past.”
“So do you think Roman is up to something?”
That question had been hounding her all night. “I don’t know. He takes full responsibility for the problems he caused us seven years ago, but says that he had nothing to do with spreading the rumors about Daddy’s alleged illegitimate children in the media this time around. That Brooks acted on his own with information that Roman warned him hadn’t been verified. Has Graham mentioned anything?”
Eve frowned. “We don’t talk about Brooks. And they don’t talk to each other right now. Graham is still furious with him. But if you want my personal opinion...”
Boy, did she ever. “Please.”
“Be careful.”
Her sister was right, but as Gracie glanced Roman’s way and their eyes met, and she felt that tingly anticipation, she wondered if she was already in way over her head.
Five
After making a full sweep of the ballroom and securing commitments for very generous sums from donors, Gracie found an empty seat with a view of the dance floor and settled back to have a drink. Her third of the night, which was her absolute limit. She was scanning the room to see where Roman might be when she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Would you care to dance?”
Gracie looked up to find Roman standing beside her, and like a dummy said, “Dance?”
“It’s what those people over there are doing,” he said, gesturing to the dance floor with that wry grin. “I hold you, we sway.”
“I know what it is,” she said, trying not to smile. He was only making it worse, poking fun at her like that. And she liked it far too much for her own good. The drink was making her feel fuzzy and loosening her inhibitions. Which couldn’t have been worse.
She set it down on the table beside her.
“I’m just not sure I want to.”
“If I recall, you loved to dance.”
“Are you sure you have room on your ticket?” she asked, since as far as she could tell he had danced with practically every young, single woman here tonight.
“What’s the matter, Gracie? Are you jealous?” he asked with a playful look that melted her.
She rolled her eyes. “As if.”
He leaned in close, the whisper of his breath caressing her ear. “You know you’re the only one I really want to dance with.”
Why did he have to say things like that? To have him hold her hand had been tantalizing enough, but the idea of being that close to him, and the feelings it would stir up, terrified her. But he was so handsome and charming that when he offered his arm she took it and let him lead her to the dance floor, knowing that the second he pulled her into his arms she would both regret and love it at the same time.
She really shouldn’t have had that third drink.
Feeling his huge hand on her lower back, she braced herself as he eased her in close. Much closer than those other women he’d danced with. And as her breasts brushed against his wide chest she felt her nipples tingle and harden. His grip on her hand was gentle yet firm, and as her other hand came to rest on his biceps, she could feel the hard muscle underneath his tuxedo jacket.
Roman had always been a big guy, but now? There was just so much of him. And it felt good.
Way too good. Too much like the old days when keeping their hands off each other had been impossible. Her thigh brushed his and against her will she could feel herself relaxing in his arms. Roman had always been a good dancer, and his injuries didn’t seem to have changed that.
As if reading her mind, Roman said, “I seem to recall us doing this a time or two before.” He paused, his eyes snagging hers, and then added, “Although not with quite so many clothes on. And not vertically.”
Her knees went weak and her cheeks burned. He had to go and remind her, didn’t he? Making love with Roman had never been anything but wonderful. They connected in a way that she never had with anyone else. Not before and not since. They would spend hours in bed lying naked together alternating between kissing and making love and just talking. Touching him, running her hands over his body, had always been a favorite pastime that never grew old.
Apparently not even now.
“You’re pushing it,” she warned him, feeling dizzy from the musky scent of his aftershave as the rest of the world faded into the background, until it felt as if it was just the two of them there in the ballroom.
“It’s the truth,” he said. “I know you haven’t forgotten.”
She wished she could, but what they’d had together had been pretty unforgettable. “Stop trying to seduce me.”
A grin tilted the corners of his beautiful mouth. “Is that what I’m doing?”
She cursed the wobble in her voice as she said, “I told you that this isn’t a date.”
The deep baritone of his voice strummed across her senses and his breath tickled her cheek. “So, no good-night kiss at your doorstep?”
“I picked you up,” she reminded him.
“No kiss at mine?”
Since the limo had fetched him at his office, she had no idea where he even lived. Not that it made a difference either way. “No kissing anywhere.”
“Not even a little one on the cheek?”
It would never stop at just her cheek. And one taste of his lips would destroy her self-control. She was on shaky ground as it was.
His eyes grew dark with desire. “But we were so good at it.”
She couldn’t argue there, and denying it would be a waste of time.
“This is business,” she told him, scrambling for a safe topic to explore, one he couldn’t turn into a sexual innuendo. “Have you talked to Graham and Brooks about meeting with my father?”
“Did Sutton tell you to ask me that?”
Well, no, not specifically, so it wasn’t a lie when she said, “I was just curious.”
“But he did ask you to bring me tonight. He wants to keep tabs on me.”
To say no would be a lie, and she was a terrible liar. He would see right through her.
“Why would you think that?” she asked instead, answering his question with a question of her own.
He laughed. “So that’s a yes.”
She blinked. “I didn’t say—”
“You didn’t have to. I can still read you like a book, Gracie.”
Damn him. What was she supposed to say now?
The hand resting on her lower back slipped an inch or so lower and her heart skipped a beat. “Look me in the eye and tell me Sutton didn’t put you up to this.”
She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t look him in the eye and lie, and if she looked away he would have his answer. She didn’t know what to do.
Curse her damned guilty conscience.
The arm around her tightened and Roman’s look went from playful to serious in a heartbeat. “I don’t care, Gracie. It doesn’t matter why we’re here together. Just that we are.”
He’d obviously known all along that she’d had ulterior motives, and the fact that he wasn’t angry, or at least a little upset with her, meant...what? That he wanted her? Well, that was pretty obvious. The question was, what did she want?
The song ended and she pulled away, out of his arms. And thankfully he let her go. If he had resisted, even a tiny bit, or asked her to dance again, she would have been toast.
“I have people I need to speak with,” she said. “But thank you for the dance.”
He didn’t say a word. He just smiled.
And she ran.
Well, her four-inch heels prevented her from actually running, but she did bolt. Right for the bar. Screw her three-drink limit. She needed a strong one right now. She was lusting after a man who only three days ago she’d hated with a passion almost as hot as her desire for him.
One more drink turned into two as she mingled and talked up the wealthiest of the guests in attendance. She ignored Roman, but she could feel his eyes on her. He had her in such a state she found herself at the bar asking for drink number six. And at some point she went back for drink number seven. Which was a very bad idea. By eleven o’clock she was feeling more than a little tipsy. She was fatally attracted to him, and her defenses couldn’t be much lower. What the hell had she been thinking?
In an attempt to dull her senses, she’d only amplified her desire and left herself more vulnerable than ever.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Dizzy and a little disoriented, she made her way to the ladies’ room to freshen up. She sat in the lounge for several minutes to collect herself and guzzled a bottle of water, hoping it might dilute the effects of the alcohol, but when she stood back up she felt more unsteady than ever.
What was she supposed to do now, stumble around the ballroom like a drunken fool?
What the hell had she gotten herself into?
Hating herself for being so careless, she left the ladies’ room as gracefully as she could. Roman was waiting for her a few feet from the door, holding his coat and her wrap.
“I had a feeling you would be ready to leave,” he said and she could have cried she was so relieved.
“Yes, please.”
She braced herself against the wall as he slipped her wrap around her shoulders and put on his coat. He slipped his arm through hers, presumably so that she wouldn’t fall over, and led her to the elevator.
“You know what happens when you have more than three drinks. Were you trying to get hammered?”
Yup, he had been watching her. That he knew her so well should have bothered her, but it didn’t. Other than her wounded pride, there wasn’t much of anything bothering her right now.
“I’m not hammered,” she said, but her mouth couldn’t seem to make the words come out just right.
“Liar.”
Yep, she was lying.
They took the elevator down to the parking level and she leaned against him, his hard body keeping her upright, but as the doors slid open, and she took a step, she stumbled.
“You’re going to break a leg in those heels,” he said.
“Am not,” she argued, stumbling again, clutching his arm for balance. In a flash of movement that left her dizzy and disoriented, he scooped her up into his arms. She let out a startled squeak and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I can walk.”
“Barely,” he said, sounding amused. He carried her to the limo and helped her inside. Then he disappeared. She looked around, confused. Was he sending her home alone?
He was back several seconds later carrying her clutch and one of her shoes. She looked down and saw that her left foot was bare.
Huh. She hadn’t even felt the shoe fall off.
He climbed in and sat across from her. “Lose something?”
“Thanks,” she said, as he dropped her things on the seat beside her.
The limo started to move and she closed her eyes.
Bad idea. The interior of the vehicle began to spin around her. She clutched the edge of the seat and opened them again, but it didn’t help much.
Roman regarded her sternly. “You’re not going to be sick, are you?”
She shook her head, which made the spinning worse. “I may be a little drunk.”
“You think?”
The seat shifted underneath her, but then she realized it was her body shifting and righted herself. “No, that’s a lie,” she said, her words slurred. “I’m definitely hammered.”
“Are you sure you’re not going to be sick?”
“I’m not sure of anything right now.” This time, when she closed her eyes, she didn’t open them again.
* * *
After a night of strange, vivid dreams about Roman, Gracie woke slowly the next morning, a drum pounding in her temples, wondering how the heck, and when the heck, she had gotten home. Her throat was dry and her tongue felt thick and as she pried her eyes open and took in her completely unfamiliar surroundings, she realized she wasn’t at home. She was...
Where the hell was she?
She blinked the sleep from her eyes and sat up in bed, the movement sending a shaft of pain through her head. Nothing looked familiar.
She spotted a sheath of apricot silk draped over a chair across the room. It was the dress she’d worn the night before. And then she realized that all she had on were her strapless push-up bra and matching panties.
Oh God, what had she done? And where the hell was she?
She closed her eyes against the raging pain in her skull and groaned, trying to piece together what had happened last night. The last thing she remembered was Roman carrying her to the limo. Everything after that was pretty much a blur.
Had he taken her home with him?
At the foot of the bed lay a pair of pajama bottoms and T-shirt big enough to fit two of her, and on the bedside table sat a glass of water and two pain-reliever tablets. At least, she was guessing that’s what they were. They could have been poison for all she knew, but death right now would be a welcome reprieve from the pain.
She gobbled them down and chugged the entire glass as she glanced around the room. It was decorated in earth tones with splashes of color here and there. The room was neither masculine nor feminine, which told her it was probably a spare. Through an open door she could see the bathroom, and guessed that the closed door next to it was a closet.
