by Cathryn Fox
She nods and the breath she’d been holding leaves her lungs in a whoosh. “Is that all?” she finally says, and I put my hand on her shoulder, her muscles relaxing under my touch. Is that all? That’s her reaction? What the hell? I thought she’d be as upset as I am, but she seems to be okay with it. What am I missing here, or more importantly, what the hell did she think I was going to say? What could be worse than not using a condom, especially when we have no future?
I brush my thumb over her skin. “What did you think I meant?”
“Nothing,” she says quickly, and averts her gaze, but I’m not having any of that. I want openness and honesty between us. I cup her chin and bring her focus back to me. That’s when I see it, right there in the depths of her eyes. This sweet vulnerable girl puts a big smile on for the world but underneath it all, she’s still lost, still vulnerable, still thinks she’s unlikable...unlovable.
“Did you think I meant me sleeping with you again was a mistake?” I ask, wrapping the question in a soft voice.
“I guess, maybe.”
“Because of my relationship with Cason?” Yeah, he’d give me a beating if he ever found out—hate me for the rest of my life, likely—but she said she’d keep our secret and I trust her.
“Well...no. This isn’t about Cason.”
“Then what?”
She shakes my hand from her chin and turns from me, her long auburn curls falling over her chest. “Can we not talk about this?”
I take a curl between my fingers, rub softly. “I want to talk about it, Peyton. We’re friends.” Honestly if anyone can use a true friend, someone she can trust implicitly, it’s Peyton. “More than friends right now, actually,” I tease, hoping it brings a smile to her face.
“Look,” she says, her dark tone cutting into my thoughts. “It’s no big deal. I just thought you changed your mind about all this.”
“Because I no longer wanted you?”
Shit, right there. Right there, all over her face, lies my answer.
She tries for a casual shrug, but fails miserably. “I just thought you’d changed your mind.”
My God, her screwed-up childhood really did a number on her. I probably didn’t help when I kissed her and walked away, leaving her to believe she wasn’t likable. I just hadn’t wanted to betray her brother.
Doesn’t matter, I never should have started something I couldn’t finish. Not with Peyton. If I could kick my own ass I would. What I can do now, however, is show her she’s everything any man would want, and more. I roll toward her, my body pressing against her leg.
“I like being with you, Peyton.” I brush my hand over her cheek. “I like you.”
She grins and glances down past my waist. “I can tell.”
I chuckle at that. Sure, I’m physically attracted to her, but I like her. She’s a kind, caring and giving woman. I haven’t come across many of those in my life, besides my family. I thought my ex was all those things, but look how that turned out. I hope someday Peyton finds a guy who can give her the family she says she doesn’t want, because I get the sense that she’s just too frightened to put herself out there, afraid that she’s not enough, afraid of getting close, of getting hurt...again.
“You know, for years I kept you at a distance, but you were right when you said it’s your body, yours to do with as you wish, and who you sleep with is none of Cason’s business.” The truth is Cason is completely overprotective of her. I can understand that, though. It was just the two of them against the world. Everything about Peyton, from her big green eyes to the way she tries to hide her vulnerabilities, brings out the protector in me, too. I’d like to put her in a bubble and keep her sheltered from a world that has been cruel to her. Of course, she’d introduce her foot to my nuts if I tried. She’s a grown woman and mistakes or not, her decisions regarding her life and her body are hers.
“Coming around to my way of thinking, are you?”
“When you’re right, you’re right,” I say, and trail my finger down her arm. “But we should have used a condom.” My gaze narrows in on her. “I’m clean, but neither one of us wants a family, right?” I say, my gaze roaming her face. Will she agree with me, or finally admit that she wants more from life? I used to want a family. I used to want a lot of things, but I gave up the idea when I realized women value my status over me.
“That’s right, we don’t, and it’s okay. I’m on the Pill. It regulates my cycle.”
A ridiculous laugh bubbles up inside me and spills from my mouth.
Peyton’s brows arch. “What, does it make you uncomfortable to talk about a woman’s menstruation cycle?”
“Hell no, it’s just...” I shake my head. “This...us... I never in a million years pictured this...” I wave my hand back and forth between our bodies. “Correction, I’ve pictured this, a thousand different ways, but I never thought we’d be having sex, on a rooftop no less, forgetting condoms and talking about your cycle.” I flop onto my back, a grin tugging at my mouth. I like the openness and honesty between us. A little too much, actually.
Careful, Roman.
“You didn’t stand a chance, Roman,” she says, a playful tone in her voice.
“Oh?” I angle my head to see her green eyes glistening with mischief.
She blows on her knuckles and brushes them over her chest. “I go after what I want, and I wanted you.”
Liking that far too much, I roll on top of her and she squeals when I grab her hands and put them over her head. “You’re a tease, you know that.” I brush my lips over hers as I begin to harden again.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she says, and lifts her hips to grind against my swelling member. My God, I can’t get enough of this woman.
“I think we have another problem.” I press my lips to hers when she arches a questioning brow. “I want to fuck you again.”
Her eyes dim with desire. “Pretty sure that’s not a problem.”
“It is when we have to be at your boss’s house.”
Her lids fly open. “Ohmigod, you’re right. We need to get moving.”
I roll off her, stand and pull her to her feet. Our bodies mesh, and she smiles up at me. “Thanks for saying that about my body being mine. I’m glad you see it that way and can finally understand why I get so frustrated with Cason.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s not going to kill me, though.”
She frowns and glances at my chest, her finger rolling around my nipple. “Yeah, I know he will. Are you regretting this, Roman? Are you sorry I seduced you?”
“Hell no,” I blurt out, and it brings a smile to her face. “I was fighting a losing battle with you, and I want to be honest. I tried to tell myself that coming here with you was all for Cason. That was a lie.”
“It was?” she asks, a small hitch in her voice.
“I wanted to be around you. I didn’t plan for anything to happen between us, but I just wanted to be around you.” A garbled laugh catches in my throat. “I must be some kind of masochist, huh?” She smiles and I put my hands on her shoulders to display just how serious I am when I glance down at her and continue with, “I also really wanted to help you, Peyton. What you want, well, if it’s important to you, then it’s important to me, too.” She’s important to me. She always has been.
Sometimes I think I didn’t stop the engagement, went through with the wedding prep, because this girl could never be mine, and it was a way to make that clear—to myself. Even though the engagement failed, Peyton and I still can’t have a real relationship. We want different things and her brother would disown both of us. She needs her brother more than life itself. I need him, too. The most important thing, though, is for nothing to ruin what they have. I’d never forgive myself if I came between brother and sister.
I swallow. Hard. “I don’t want any kind of trouble with Cason, Peyton.”
She goes
up on her toes and gives me a soft kiss. “You won’t. He never needs to know about this. It’s not his business, anyway.”
“Yeah, I know,” I say, but that doesn’t help with the guilt spreading through me. I give her a nudge, setting her in motion toward the stairs. As I gather our clothes, I realize there’s something she needs to know. “You said you were only with one guy in college, but it’s not because guys weren’t attracted to you.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, one, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever set eyes on, and two, your brother was well-known on campus. The guys all sort of knew not to mess with you.”
Stark naked, her hand goes to her hip and her mouth drops open. Could she be any more adorable? “You have got to be kidding me.”
“Nope, sorry.” I give her a sheepish look. “Your brother would have killed anyone who got too close.”
Her green eyes flare with anger. “I’m going to kill him.”
I drag her to me. “Hey, you can’t tell him I told you.”
“How can I keep that in?”
“Please.”
“Fine, Roman. I’ll keep the secret.” She rolls her eyes at me and I smile. I like having secrets with Peyton. “Let’s go get ready.”
Forty-five minutes later, Elias is dropping us off at Andrew’s house. “See, we needed a car after all,” I tell her.
“You don’t always have to be right about everything, you know,” she says, and playfully elbows me in the gut. We walk up the cobblestoned walkway, and she wraps her arms around herself and shivers as the night air falls over us. I put my arm around her to warm her and as we approach the door, it swings wide open and a very attractive lady with short dark hair and dark eyes greets us.
“You must be Peyton and Roman. Right on time.” Her smile is warm and inviting as she takes our hands and gives a welcoming squeeze. “I’m Sofia, Andrew’s wife. We’re so glad you could join us tonight. Richard and Paula are already here.” Her lips thin and her light laugh wraps around me. “I didn’t have time to do my hair,” she says, and even though she’s still smiling, I sense the tension beneath. “Please excuse the mess of it.”
“Your hair looks fine,” Peyton says, and points to her own. “Look what the humidity is doing to mine.”
Sofia laughs, steps back and waves her arms. “Come in, please.”
She leads us through her gorgeous home and Peyton glances at the pictures on the wall. “Are these your children?” she asks.
A look of longing comes over Sofia’s face. “Yes, twins. They’re both studying in England.”
“How nice.”
“Not for me,” she says with a laugh, and Peyton grins.
Understanding and warmth dance in Peyton’s eyes. “You miss them.”
“I do, terribly,” she says, and gives Peyton a wink. “Someday you’ll understand that.”
“Yes, I suppose so,” Peyton says, playing the part of my wife as the two share a bonding moment. Laughter comes from the deck.
“Sounds like the party has started without us,” Sofia says, her voice a bit tight, and Peyton casts me a quick glance, her eyes telegraphing a secret message. I nod slightly. Yeah, I get it. Sofia doesn’t appear to be a fan of her early-bird guests.
We step out onto the back deck, and I glance out at the Mediterranean Sea, which is right on their doorstep. “Nice place you have here,” I say.
Sofia smiles at me. “Thank you. Let me fix you a drink.” She angles her head. “Let me guess, a scotch drinker.”
I chuckle. “How did you know?”
“A woman knows these things,” she says. “Peyton, how about you?”
“Wine girl.”
“Ah, I knew there was a reason I liked you,” Sofia jokes, and Andrew stands to greet us.
“Great to see you both again,” he says, and gestures to the empty chairs around the table. We greet Richard and Paula, who are both sipping on some kind of cocktail, and Sofia comes back with our drinks and sits at the other end of the table, opposite her husband. She turns to glance at Peyton.
“How was your first day?” Sofia asks, and before Peyton can say a word, Paula jumps in to explain how much her husband loved meeting the children, and how they all loved him in return. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. We all listen quietly, politely of course, since most of us around the table have manners. I reach out and put my hand on Peyton’s leg to give it a squeeze. The look on her face suggests she wants to give a hard eye roll, and I grin back.
When Paula finally stops talking, Sofia turns to Peyton. “How about you, Peyton?”
“It was enjoyable. I really liked—”
Paula gasps and we all go quiet. “You’re Roman Bianchi,” she blurts out.
“That’s right,” I say, and roll the ice around in my glass.
Paula taps her husband’s arm repeatedly. “Richard, Richard, this is Roman Bianchi. Remember we read about him in the paper. He’s from a family of Italian elites. His ex-fiancée left him before their grand wedding. There was a whole spread done on him.”
I shift, uncomfortable as she rudely narrates the horrible articles splashed in the trash magazines.
“I remember,” Richard says, and I don’t like the gleam in his eyes as his gaze goes from me to Peyton, back to me. “You went into hiding for a while.”
“I wasn’t hiding.” Both Andrew and Sofia go quiet, clearly uncomfortable by the direction Richard is taking this conversation. “I was in New York working.”
“New York’s most eligible bachelor.” He laughs lightly, but it belies the vindictive look in his eyes. “I believe I recall you saying something about being a bachelor for life?”
I put my arm around Peyton and her body is stiff. I laugh and take a drink of my scotch, playing it off. “You can’t tell me you believe everything you read in the paper, now can you, Richard?”
“No,” he says, and pushes back in his chair to mimic my relaxed posture. “You’re right about that.” He focuses in on Peyton’s ring. “Tell me, how long have you two been married?”
“Six months,” we both say quickly, maybe too quickly.
“Newlyweds,” Sofia says. “How romantic.”
“A big wedding, with all your family?” Richard asks.
“No, we wanted a private wedding. I love my family, but they can be overbearing at times, so we just sneaked off. I’m sure they’ll want to throw us a party when we go to Sicily to see them.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting them all,” Peyton says.
Richard’s mouth drops open. “You’ve never met them then?”
“It all happened rather fast,” I explain. “They’ll meet her soon enough and fall for her as hard as I have.”
“Malta is such a great place to spend your first year together,” Sofia says, and waves her hand toward the sea. “I grew up here of course, but Andrew is from Italy, and we honeymooned right here on this island. It’s where we’re happiest.” She points to a strip of beach in the distance. “We actually exchanged vows right there, all our family and friends in attendance.”
“Perfect place,” Peyton says, a longing in her eyes that she can’t hide from me. She doesn’t want a family my ass, and as far as big weddings, there was a point in this girl’s life where she wanted to be Cinderella. I’m sure of it.
“Where did you get married?” Sofia asks.
Peyton coils her hair around one finger. “Oh, we just had a civil ceremony in Manhattan.”
Sofia’s eyes go wide. “Oh, my, I can’t believe Roman’s family let him get away with that.”
I grin; obviously her husband told her who I was and the two know my history and that of my overbearing family.
“This is such a great island to raise a family,” Paula says, and puts her hand over her stomach, giving her husband a small grin like they might
have a secret.
Sofia beams. “Great indeed. My kids had a wonderful childhood here with the beach so close.”
Paula gazes at her husband. “We would love to raise our family here, too,” she says. “Of course, we’re very traditional, and I’ll be staying home to raise them, just like my mother did. That’s how children end up with good old-fashioned values.” She picks up her glass and eyes Peyton over the rim. “Did your mom stay home, Peyton?”
Holy shit. Is this woman for real?
“Actually, I lost my parents when I was young,” Peyton says.
“Oh, so sorry to hear that, dear,” Sofia says, and I shift uncomfortably. Something tells me Paula has done her homework on the competition and is using Peyton’s childhood to her advantage. Every protective instinct I possess kicks into high gear.
“Do you plan to have children, Peyton?” Paula asks.
“Of course, someday,” she says, a small waver in her voice that I don’t miss.
I take her hand and bring it to my mouth and give it a kiss. “We plan to have plenty of children,” I say.
“Will you continue to work?” Paula waves her hand. “I mean, if maternity leave is in your future, what would happen to the students?”
“I’m sure I can figure out a way to help pick up the slack,” I blurt out without thinking.
Paula laughs. “You mean you’ll help out in the classroom? What qualifications do you have?”
“I might not have a degree in education, but I speak numerous languages.” What am I saying? I know nothing about teaching children, but if it means helping Peyton, I’d probably stand on my head and spit nickels for their entertainment.
“How unorthodox,” Paula says.
“Andrew,” I say, shifting the direction of the conversation. “Do the children have computer access?”
He steeples his fingers and lets his index fingers bounce off his lips. “We have a small lab, not enough for every student of course. They all must take turns.”
“I’d be happy to volunteer my time and teach basic coding skills.”