Mine to Keep

by Rhenna Morgan

  Roman let the quiet settle between them, then drew in a slow breath. “As for me, my past is every bit as ugly as you think it is. Formed by deeds most would condemn me for. But if you want to know who I am—where I’ve been and what my future entails—I will not hide it from you. The real question is—are you brave enough to know me and find the same acceptance?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  His woman was quiet. Frighteningly so. And for the life of him, Roman couldn’t decide if her lack of conversation was a result of his blunt assertion that he had every intent to marry her, or that he’d thrown the gauntlet of his past between them and sent her curious mind down dark and twisted alleys he’d have been better to avoid.

  Biting back a frustrated grunt, he turned onto Bienville Street and focused on finding a parking space near their destination. No easy task when his mind kept recalling the genuine shock and disbelief on her face when the word fiancée had entered the conversation. And that dazed confusion in her expression when he’d confessed all the reasons he wanted her for his bride—that soft and bewildered wonderment—it broke his heart. How could she not see all the things he saw so plainly? Not own and value her worth as he did? Worse, how could the people in her life have failed so miserably in showing her all that she had to offer?

  Maybe the plans he’d made for them today were a mistake. Too much, too fast in his campaign to win her. Perhaps he’d have been wiser to focus on her self-confidence and self-worth first.

  Ahead, a Lexus sedan pulled free of a parallel spot just outside their destination. Well, wrong approach or not, he was forging ahead. His instincts had never steered him wrong, and if Bonnie needed regular demonstrations of just how valuable and worthy she was, he was going to give them to her. Even if they were a bit over-the-top.

  He took the opening the sedan had created and parked.

  Bonnie craned her head upward and studied the multi-storied colonial building outside her passenger window. The brick was traditional red and the trim around the many soaring windows with their curved transoms a crisp white. The thick double doors that served as the primary entrance were painted black to match the wrought iron balconies overhead, framed by two authentic gas lanterns that undoubtedly had been around much longer than electricity. A dark placard hung beside the double doors; in gold script it read L’Arpège. By the time Bonnie spoke, her voice was thick with hesitation and dread. “Please tell me this isn’t where we’re going for lunch.”

  “Very well.” He unbuckled his seat belt and opened his door. “I will not tell you this is where we are going.”

  “Shit!” She snapped her head around and glared at him. “You can’t be serious. I might be a good fifteen feet from the closest window, but I can see enough to know this ain’t a jeans and T-shirt place. Not to mention the fact I can’t even pronounce whatever it’s called.”

  He slid out of his seat. “It’s pronounced lar-peej, and today, it does not matter what we wear inside.” Not giving her a chance to volley back a response, he shut his door and stalked around the hood of the truck to hers.

  Her reply was instant the second he opened her door. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter today?”

  Smiling at the return of her customary curiosity and questions, he clasped one of her hands and tugged her from her seat. “Perhaps it would be best if you came inside and learned for yourself.”

  Her frown was adorable, that tiny furrow between the sharp V of her eyebrows one he very much wanted to kiss, and would have if he wasn’t certain it would only frustrate her more. “What are you up to?”

  He shut her door behind her and punched the lock button on his key fob. “You said you required food. I’m ensuring you get what you need.” He slid his arm around her waist and guided her forward, but used the opportunity to press his case. “I will always provide what you need, moya koroleva. Eventually, you will come to trust as much. To trust me.”

  She looked to him and opened her mouth, ready to continue their conversation, but the doors pushed wide and a man dressed all in black waved them inside with a smile. “Good afternoon. We’ve been expecting you.”

  Bonnie hesitated long enough to give the twenty-something man in his crisp button-down, tie and fine pants a once-over, but seemed to realize what she was doing and got on with making her way inside.

  Standing at the rounded archway that divided the opulent entrance from the dining room, Bonnie clasped her hands tightly in front of her as though trying to be invisible and surreptitiously surveyed the soaring ceilings, elaborate gold moldings and ivory drapes with their silver fringe.

  “Everything is ready for us?” Roman asked the waiter.

  “Of course, Mr. Kozlov. Exactly as you requested. Please, come this way.” The man guided them toward the middle of the room, rounded one table and pulled a chair out. “Here you are, Miss Drummond.”

  Bonnie halted two steps from the table, eyed the chair the man still waited behind, then cast a dubious glance at Roman before slowly getting back in gear. “Um. Okay. Thanks.”

  Roman took the seat immediately to her right, keeping his back to the nearest wall.

  “My name is Robert and I’ll be your waiter.” As if on cue, two men joined them at the table, both dressed exactly the same as Robert. One poured water for Roman and Bonnie and the other placed rolls onto each of their bread plates and slid pats of butter shaped like roses in between them. “These two gentlemen are Felix and Todd and they’ll be helping you as well today. What would you like to drink?”

  So captivated by her surroundings and the attentiveness of their servers, it took a good three or four seconds before Bonnie realized Robert was waiting on her to reply. “Oh. Right. Drinks.” She looked to Roman first, then shrugged and shifted her attention back to Robert. “You got any Coke?”

  Robert smiled big enough to show teeth. “Yes, of course. And you, sir?”

  “Water for me.”

  “Certainly.” Robert nodded to his two helpers as though giving them permission to proceed, then zeroed in on Roman. “Would you like me to ask Chef to begin your order? Or would you prefer to wait a bit?”

  An interesting conundrum. Part of him wanted more time simply to talk with Bonnie and give her ample opportunity to get comfortable with the space, but another part of him said he’d be wise to get a move on with the food. One thing he’d learned in the short time they’d cohabited was that a hungry Bonnie was also a cranky Bonnie. Or as she put it—a hangry Bonnie. “Go ahead. We waited too long to eat and my woman is hungry.”

  “Then we’ll start right away.” Giving his own quick bow, he swiftly headed toward the kitchen, leaving only silence between him and Bonnie.

  Not that the silence lasted long.

  Bonnie leaned closer to him and whispered, “Where is everybody?”

  Roman took the cloth napkin cleverly folded to one side of his plate, shook it loose and laid it in his lap. “There is no one else. The restaurant is closed to all but us. Which also means there is no need to whisper.”

  Noting his action, Bonnie mimicked the action with her own napkin then scanned the vast dining room. “You mean they’re not normally open this time of day?”

  “No. I mean they closed today at my request.”

  Her head snapped back. “Why would they do that?”

  “Because I paid them to.”

  That delightful furrow between her brows was back. “And you’d do that why?”

  “Because I wanted you to experience something special and I knew you would be uncomfortable with others here. So I paid them to open only for us.”

  She stared at him for long seconds then swept the room again with her considering gaze. When she finally refocused on him, she swallowed hard. “Roman, this place is fancy.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Like I think that’s material on the wall instead of wallpaper kind of fancy.”


  Roman checked the gold and ivory filigree pattern on the wall opposite him and nodded. “I believe you’re right. It does appear to be fabric. Though, I don’t understand how that factors into our lunch.”

  “It factors because you paid them to only be open to us.”

  “Yes, I already said as much. How is that an issue?”

  “It’s an issue because if a place has fabric on the walls, fancy China and real silverware on the tables and a whole team of waiters taking care of two people, it’s expensive.”

  Ah. There it was. A kernel he could work with. An opening for the path forward. He paused long enough to gather his thoughts, pulled in a deep, steadying breath, then dove in. “You are a smart woman. You do not make a large income, but you’ve made enough to pay your bills and live with integrity. When faced with taking an important action—is cost the only factor?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Not sure I follow.”

  “Take your apartment, for instance. When you selected it, did you focus only on rent? Or did location and the safety that went with it factor in?”

  Comprehension dawned. “Oh, safety for sure. And convenience. I could’ve found a lot cheaper places, but I’d have had to walk through some shitty neighborhoods to get there if my car acted up.”

  Roman nodded. “Correct. And when you buy clothes. Is the amount on the price tag all that you care about?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. That’s why I go to secondhand stores. I can get better quality that lasts longer for less money.”

  “Exactly.”

  For a moment, she seemed pacified, then cocked her head. “That still doesn’t explain why you’d shell out a fortune so we can have food I’m not even sure I’ll like without anyone around us.”

  Roman picked up a roll, broke it open and smeared some of the creamy butter on it with his knife. “Are you comfortable?”

  With a half-shrug, Bonnie glanced toward the kitchens and the empty tables around them. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “More so than if people were here?”

  A sheepish, cockeyed smile tilted her lips. “Probably.”

  Roman bit into his bread and savored the warmth and flavor before swallowing it down. “Then I have achieved what I wanted. The woman I want for my own is experiencing something new and is relatively comfortable doing it. That makes the expense not only warranted, but necessary.”

  Her jaw slackened and her big green eyes grew wide with surprise. “I think...” She rolled her lips inward then dipped her head and studied her hands in her lap. When she finally lifted her gaze back to him, her eyes were wet with unshed tears. “I don’t know what to say to that. Except thank you.”

  In his periphery, all three waiters hustled in their direction, each of them carrying two plates with silver domes on top. He couldn’t have ordered better timing. “It was entirely my pleasure, moya koroleva.”

  One by one, the waiters set the plates in front of them.

  Bonnie cleared her throat and looked from Roman to Robert standing beside her. “So, what are we having?”

  “Your meal was custom ordered by Mr. Kozlov. All variations created by Chef to accommodate what we understand to be your favorite meal.” Robert beamed a secret smile down at her then unveiled each surprise with a flourish. “First, we have a grilled turkey, bacon, radicchio and blue cheese sandwich. Second, a grilled ham and gouda with apple salad. And finally, a grilled gruyere and white cheddar with caramelized onions and rosemary butter.”

  One of the other waiters finished unveiling Roman’s plates in perfect synchronicity, each option mirroring Bonnie’s exactly.

  Bonnie looked at each plate in turn. Then the waiters around the table. Then to Roman. “You ordered me grilled cheese sandwiches? Here?”

  “They are your favorite, yes?”

  Openly stupefied, she slowly nodded her head.

  “Then why would I order anything else?”

  Tears filled her eyes and she ducked her head.

  Before any awkwardness could build around the table, Roman addressed the waiters. “I think my bride is very pleased.”

  Robert wasn’t a fool. He quickly assessed the situation and motioned his fellow waiters away. “Excellent. If you need anything else, we’ll be waiting.”

  It took a good twenty or more seconds after the men left and silence surrounded them before Bonnie finally gathered herself and lifted her head. “This looks really, really good.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?”

  She nodded and wiped her hands on the napkin in her lap. Eyes locked on the gourmet sandwiches in front of her, she softly asked, “Why would you do this? Go to all this trouble. Not just today, but every day since you met me?”

  Something soft and tender, yet also fierce and protective swelled behind his sternum. He’d been right to move forward with his plans. To spoil her and show her any way possible how determined he was to make her his. Today was only the first of many ways he’d show her, including giving her the truth behind his actions. “Because you have gone without too long. Because it gives me pleasure to share my good fortune with you and to introduce you to new things in a way you will enjoy. But mostly, because I want you to realize—to me, you are worth everything.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gray clouds, a slow and steady rain and wind whistling outside the window. Sitting sideways in the velvet slipper chair with her feet tucked beneath her, Bonnie stared between the plantation shutter slats at the dreary winter day. Only one more day until January was over. February would no doubt whiz past, bringing spring to New Orleans with it.

  But this wouldn’t be an ordinary spring. Hell, none of her life would ever be ordinary again if she allowed herself to believe any of Roman’s ramblings.

  Rain pattered against the leaves on the trees outside making the branches dance, and water swished on the pavement as a Lexus sedan drove by. The house was eerily quiet. No drone of the television downstairs or intermittent noises as Roman worked in the kitchen or his office. She was alone. Probably for the first time since she’d been attacked at her apartment.

  Well, she wasn’t entirely alone.

  Her gaze slid to the edge of the covered porch and the guard stationed beneath it. With the roof blocking her sight, she couldn’t see the other one, but she knew there were two of them. Just as Roman had made her aware of the duo covering the back door before he’d headed out to handle some business. She’d tried to talk him into dropping her off at André’s so she could work as well, but somewhere between phenomenal sex Tuesday night and this morning, he’d decided she didn’t need to work anywhere.

  Actually, to be fair, he’d said, You will work on finding what you want to do long-term.

  She grunted to herself and sighed.

  Potāto.

  Potâto.

  The guy really was a romantic. A great big scary romantic who’d apparently decided that going overboard was the way to win her over.

  It was a wonderful sentiment. One the fatigued and terminally hopeful side of her wanted to appreciate and make the most of. The jaded side of her was screaming to fortify her defenses and brace for the rug to get pulled out from underneath her.

  What did she want to do? Yeah, she loved tinkering with jewelry, and, seeing how much Mr. Frannelly got for his pieces, a person could definitely make a living doing it if she could learn how to make things on his scale. But Frannelly had been working with jewelry his whole life. There was no way she could learn as much as he had and make an income in less than a year. Or more. And how would she pay for all the tools? Or know what kind of tools to buy? Where would she sell anything she made?

  A ping sounded on the shiny new phone Roman had given her, its screen glowing prettily from the nightstand where she’d left it.

  She padded to it, eager for a distraction if it meant ignoring all the answerless questions swirling
in her head.

  A text message from Cassie waited.

  Haven’t heard from you since Tuesday morning! Since the “badass motherfucker” that’s been hoarding you is out with the rest of the boys, can Evie and I stop by? We want to know what’s been keeping you two so preoccupied!

  Hmm. Company would be awesome. Especially those two. She could use some answers and perspective right about now. Real answers. Roman might be romantic as hell in his own he-man way, and yeah, he clearly had some legit businesses, but she’d yet to learn how true all those organized crime rumors were.

  Of course, if Bonnie agreed to them coming over, they’d want details about her and Roman. Frankly, she’d never been good at the whole girlfriends-trading-stories routine.

  That’s because you haven’t had any girlfriends, silly.

  This time she grunted her hmm out loud and dropped to the edge of the bed. What else was she gonna do? Sit and stare out the damned window all day? It was barely after noon and she was ready to lose her freaking mind.

  Sure. But it’ll cost you a Mustard Whopper and a large onion ring from Burger King to get in. I need comfort food.

  Cassie fired back with a string of laughing emojis then added: Deal. See you in twenty.

  Twenty ended up being twenty-five, the last five of which Bonnie spent pacing the hallway that ran between the living room, kitchen and Roman’s office. She jerked the door open just as the two women made it to the porch. “Oh, thank God. Human beings.” She took the bag of fast-food goodness from Cassie’s outstretched hand and moved out of the way so they could enter.

  Both women giggled, but it was Evie who spoke. “You know you can have one of the guys get you food whenever you want it.”

  “Or have them take you wherever you want to go,” Cassie added.

  She could? She stopped long enough on her trek to the kitchen to glance back at them both, then continued digging in the bag for her burger. “Well, he didn’t tell me that.”