Roark

by AC Arthur

  “Are you sure you’re alright?”

  She nodded and lifted a hand to touch her forehead. “Just a little disoriented. A lot has happened today, and I was thrown off when I woke up and realized where I was.”

  “Let’s go to my room. You can sit down, and I’ll fix you something to drink.”

  “No, I’ll be okay. This has happened before.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that but didn’t bother pressing her with more questions. Instead he just guided them back down the hall toward his room. It occurred to him at the last minute to leave the door open because he’d rather not give her the wrong impression. “Here, have a seat.” He stood next to her while she eased down onto the couch, and then he leaned over to switch on the lamp on the end table.

  “Just water,” she said in a tone as if she thought she had to reiterate that.

  Roark tried not to be offended. She didn’t know him except for whatever the internet had told her, and the first night she met him she ended up in this private residence with him. She had every right to make sure she was being perfectly clear about what she did and didn’t want.

  He went to the bar and grabbed a bottled water from the refrigerator beneath it. She hadn’t been lying when she’d said a lot had happened today. Roark had been thinking that very thing as he’d lain in his bed trying to stay asleep instead of waking up every half hour like he’d been doing for the past couple of weeks.

  He took a second bottled water for himself, even though he desperately wanted something stronger. Before walking back over to where she sat, Roark looked at her. She’d leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her head held down. Whatever she’d been dreaming had really shaken her. He didn’t know if he should ask what it was, or just focus on getting her to feel better. His experience with these types of scenarios wasn’t plentiful.

  When he walked toward her, he noticed the play of the light over her cinnamon-brown skin and felt the push of desire settle in his gut. Actually, it was more like a sucker punch, and he coughed to play off the sudden loss of breath. “Here you go,” he said, because she was still holding her head down when he got close. “I didn’t open it, but I can if you want.”

  “No. Thanks.” She accepted the bottle.

  While she twisted the top off, Roark stood awkwardly, wondering if he should sit next to her or move to the other couch. He was acutely aware of the scene and was determined not to give any false impressions.

  “You can sit down. I’m not gonna start screaming again.” She moved over on the couch to make room for him.

  With the dilemma solved for him, Roark sat. He opened his water and took a long drink. When he was done, he cleared his throat. “You wanna talk about the dream?”

  “No.”

  “Then let’s talk about something else. Why don’t you have a husband or a boyfriend?”

  The question took her by surprise; he could tell by the quick way she turned her head so she could stare at him. As for him, he’d been thinking about the question for the past few hours. He’d been thinking about her a lot since he’d seen that news report.

  “Well, that’s certainly blunt.”

  “I don’t really know any other way to be.”

  She shrugged. “I guess that works in your line of business.”

  He wanted to know everything she knew about him, but he wanted her to answer his question first. Roark was pretty sure there was no other man but he wanted to double-check, because the last thing he felt like tonight was having some guy banging on the front door looking for his woman.

  “How do you know I don’t have a husband or a boyfriend?” She took another drink of water.

  Roark sat back on the couch, holding his water in one hand and letting his other hand rest on his thigh. “Because if you had a husband, you’d be wearing a ring, and even if you were the type of woman who took her ring off when her husband wasn’t around, there’d probably be a tan line or indentation on your finger where the ring was supposed to be.”

  “What if I never wanted a wedding ring? Not all women like jewelry.”

  “But you do.” He recalled how she’d been dressed when she’d come to meet him this morning. “You wore earrings and a necklace earlier today.”

  She shrugged again. “True. How about the boyfriend? What makes you so sure I’m single?”

  “You’re dedicated to your family, that tells me you’re loyal. A loyal girlfriend wouldn’t be spending the night with a man she just met twelve hours ago, especially without calling her boyfriend to let him know she was safe.”

  “What are you, a part-time private detective?”

  He laughed. He couldn’t help it. Her eyes widened, and she seemed shocked at the sound. That made him feel some kind of way. “I’m just very observant. And I’m curious to know why a woman like you doesn’t have a man.”

  “Because every woman doesn’t need a man.”

  He should’ve expected that response. It’s exactly what Suri would’ve said if he’d made that comment to her. And it was Aunt Birdie’s lifetime mantra. “You’re absolutely right. But you’re an attractive woman. That tells me your status is by choice.” A statement which may have crossed another line, so he took a drink of water and wished like hell it was vodka.

  “You’re right as well. I am an attractive woman. I’m also pretty damn observant myself. I’ve never had a husband, and the last boyfriend I had, I dumped a year ago. You’re single as well.”

  It was his turn to shrug. “You looked me up.”

  She nodded and sat back on the couch, mimicking his position. “I sure did. You were married to Katrina Neyone for three years before calling it quits four years ago. Now, you’re a brooding bachelor. That wasn’t on Google. I just came to that conclusion today.”

  Roark finished his water. “Now, we’re both single, sitting on a couch in the middle of the night, drinking water like we’re recovering alcoholics and avoiding discussing the one thing we have in common.”

  With those words, silence fell over them, and Roark immediately felt uncomfortable.

  “I’m not going to try to seduce you,” he said when he couldn’t sit quietly any longer.

  “And I’m not going to try to seduce you.”

  He turned to her. “That thought hadn’t crossed my mind.”

  She stared back at him. “Really? It should have. Because just as you’ve noticed I’m attractive, I’ve noticed the same about you, and I’m not in the habit of denying myself any type of pleasure.”

  Did his dick just jump?

  Roark swallowed, because his throat was instantly dry.

  In that moment it dawned on him how good that nightgown looked on her. How had Geoff known her exact size? Because it fit her perfectly, right down to the way the silky material cupped her very ample breasts. His one hand clenched the water bottle, while the other pressed into his thigh. “I just wanted to assure you that nothing untoward was going to happen to you while you were here. There’s something going on that we both need to get to the bottom of; mixing that with anything else would be a mistake.” Some of those words sounded like bullshit, but he’d had to say them.

  “We’re adults. We can acknowledge there’s attraction between us and decide whether or not to act on it. I had a bad dream, we’re sitting in your bedroom…it makes sense that lines are a little blurred right now. But don’t worry, I’m good. I’m not going to accuse you of anything and as I just stated, I’m not going to try anything.” She stood. “Thanks for the water.”

  Roark stood too.

  “I’m going to head back to my room now.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” A part of him didn’t want her to go, while a bigger part of him wanted her to get very far away.

  She’d already started walking toward the door. It took every ounce of strength in him not to linger on the sight of her generous ass swaying in the blue satin. His dick had definitely jumped and begged for release at that sight, and his frown increased. “I’m goin
g to be fine. As I told you, I’ve had nightmares before.”

  They were just about at the door, and Roark was still reciting the alphabet backward to keep from focusing on how good that nightgown really did look on her, when she glanced over her shoulder at him.

  “You’re a fixer.”

  “Huh? What?” It was his turn to blink in confusion, and he felt like a total idiot.

  “You like to fix things for people. So right now, you’re feeling out of sorts because you couldn’t fix the nightmare for me. It’s cool, really. I’ve forgotten it already, and now I’m ready to crash.” When he didn’t immediately respond, she turned and kept walking through the open door.

  “I trust you know how to handle your nightmares, Tamika. But I’ll be right here in my room if you need me.” He’d said her name. It rolled off his tongue and sounded in his ears.

  “Thanks, Roark. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me tonight.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Goodnight, again. For real this time.” She chuckled, and he wanted to reach out and touch the cheekbone that rose with the action.

  He wanted to slide his finger along the line of her jaw, to touch her full bottom lip. Fuck! He was hard and he wanted her in his bed. “Goodnight, Tamika. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  Those words were for her and for him. He was going to talk to this woman about how his mother knew her father and how both of them dying in a fire couldn’t be a coincidence.

  He was not going to have sex with this woman.

  Chapter 8

  The next morning, Roark lay in the bed with a smile on his face and a hand on his dick. He lifted his hips slightly off the mattress, meeting the jerking motion he’d created to keep the tendrils of pleasure sifting through his body. That enticing blue nightgown had been pushed above her hips, and he’d eased between the softest thighs to sink deep inside her pussy. She’d welcomed him with open arms, lifting her legs to wrap around his waist. He pumped deep inside her, sinking in and pulling out, passion surging through him with every plunge.

  An incessant beeping sound interrupted the dream, and for the second time he was jerked awake, eyes opening wide, heart hammering in his chest as he struggled to separate the dream from reality. The first sign he was no longer dreaming was the wetness on his fingers. With a frown and his free hand, he pushed the sheets back to see the crazy dream of being inside Tamika had almost led to a very real orgasm. Pre-cum still oozed from his tip as he grumbled and hurriedly yanked his hand from his dick.

  The alarm on his cell phone he’d set before he was awakened earlier by Tamika’s scream was still blaring, and he used his dry hand to stop the annoying sound. It was straight to the shower from there, where it took a good ten minutes of standing under a cool spray of water for his erection to subside. The embarrassment of being a forty-year-old man who’d almost had a complete wet dream would take a little longer to rinse away. By the time he was finished and had slipped on another pair of jeans and button-front shirt, Roark had managed to clear his mind of the odd sexual fantasy.

  How long had it been since he’d thought of a woman in that way? Obviously too long, he told himself as he left the room and walked down the hallway. How many times had Ridge insisted sex was the key to survival for all men? And how many times had Roark frowned at his brother’s obsession with the physical connection over a deeper emotional one? Not that emotion had worked out well for Roark, either. Katrina and their very real divorce papers was proof of that.

  And why the hell was he thinking of any of this when there were definitely more pressing matters at hand? For example, the open door to the room where Tamika was supposed to be sleeping.

  Roark stepped through that open door, moving further into the room. He didn’t call out to her and kept his focus on the sitting area of the room, just in case she was still in the bed. Then what was he going to do? Walk over and wake her up with a kiss, or turn and leave, because what kind of creepy dude was he to be in her sleeping room early in the morning without her permission?

  She wasn’t in the bed. He hadn’t been able to resist looking in that direction, and what he saw was a neatly made bed, that infamous blue nightgown tossed across it. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the memory of his dream from his mind. “I’m not having sex with that woman.”

  It had become a mantra rolling through his mind during his shower, and now he figured he’d say it out loud for stronger emphasis.

  He went downstairs, wondering if Tamika had gotten up this early just to sneak out of the house before he awakened. But why would she have done that? It wasn’t as if they’d actually had sex last night and she was somehow embarrassed and wanted to avoid the awkward morning-after confrontation. Shaking his head, he cursed the thought and his wretched mind for not being able to push sex with her completely out of focus.

  When he was standing in the first-floor foyer, about to enter the parlor, laughter drifted from another direction. Unfamiliar with all the rooms in the clubhouse, Roark wasn’t sure where the laughter was coming from, so he simply followed the sound.

  “This doesn’t fit too bad.”

  He heard Tamika’s voice before seeing her and immediately stopped walking. It was coming from ahead, around a curving wall.

  “Not entirely. But we can get your exact size delivered to the manor in less than an hour.” That was Lily. He remembered her high-pitched voice from yesterday.

  “I don’t think it’ll be necessary. I have suitcases of clothes back at the cottage that I hadn’t even unpacked yet.”

  “But wasn’t there a fire at your cottage yesterday? Mr. Donovan tore out of here in a flurry to get to the hospital to find you.”

  “He did?” Tamika asked, confusion clear in her tone.

  Roark frowned as the member of his staff continued to run her mouth. “Yes, indeed. He was sitting in the restaurant one minute and running out demanding his car the next. I had no idea where he’d gone until I got to the front desk and Geoff was looking at a news broadcast on his tablet. Such a shame—I pass that cottage when I’m on my way to see my mum.”

  “Yes, it was…is…lovely. I’m going back there this morning to see how much damage was done. Hopefully, not much, and I can get my bags and head to a hotel.”

  “I don’t think Mr. Donovan will let you go to a hotel. Besides, the manor is much better. And the clothes are no problem. Have you ever heard of CKDavis Designs?”

  “No.”

  “Well, Camille Davis is actually Camille Davis Donovan. She’s married to Mr. Donovan’s cousin, Adam. They’re Americans like you.” Lily spoke in a matter-of-fact tone that held a hint of pride.

  From where he stood in the hallway, Roark wondered if all the staff at the Manor were required to know everything about him and his family.

  When Tamika remained silent, Lily continued. “We keep a good number of her pieces here. The lingerie I selected last night is part of that line. I believe another cousin’s wife collaborated with Camille on those particular pieces. Her name is Tia, and she used to be a runway model.”

  “Wow, he’s got one hell of a family.”

  “Oh, yes, the Donovans are a vast and talented brood. My family was so proud of me for getting a job here at the manor. And when we got word yesterday that Mr. Donovan was coming here for the first time, we were elated.”

  “Let me get this straight. Roark ran out of here to get to the hospital to see me last night. Then he called you and told you to find me some clothes?”

  “Yes, well, he called Geoff, and Geoff called me. But that’s how it happened.”

  “And you knew what size I wore?”

  “I recalled seeing you with Mr. Donovan yesterday morning and took a guess. Geoff said you’d probably go right to bed after such a harrowing time, so I just grabbed nightwear and that jogging outfit you’re wearing now. But I see that’s a little big. I can order whatever you like from the catalog, and they’ll have it delivered in a jiffy.”

  “Ah, I
’d rather just get my own clothes from the cottage. And speaking of which, I’ll get going now.”

  Roark moved from the spot he’d been rooted to. He turned around the curved wall and was immediately in the spacious gourmet kitchen. The strong smell of fresh-brewed coffee hit him immediately. He probably hadn’t noticed it before, since he was so into their conversation. Eavesdropping like some kind of child. “We’ll go to the cottage together. I’ve already arranged for some agents to meet us there.” He talked as he walked in and went straight to the granite-top counter, where he spotted the coffee machine.

  “Oh, good morning, Mr. Donovan.” Lily hopped up from the chair where she’d been sitting next to Tamika. “I can get the coffee for you.”

  “It’s not necessary, Lily. I’ll get it. And thank you for everything you did last night.”

  “It was no problem, sir. I was just telling Ms. Rayder that the clothing comes from your cousin’s collection and we can order anything she’d like to be delivered directly to the manor very quickly.”

  He nodded as he poured coffee into a mug, but didn’t turn around to face either of them. “She should do that. Just in case.” In case her mother’s cottage had been damaged as much as his mother’s house had been after the fire. Suri still wasn’t able to return to their family home, but as soon as the Fire Brigade released it as a crime scene, Roark planned to have a construction crew in Hyde Park to begin renovations. He wanted it to be better than before.

  “Very good, sir.” Lily’s gaze moved easily from Roark, back to Tamika. “If you give me your email address, I can send you the direct link. All you have to do is select what you want, and the order will immediately be sent to the warehouse in London and then shipped to us posthaste.”

  Lily was efficient and attentive, but Roark still wanted her to leave. He wanted to talk to Tamika alone. “She’ll put in an order this morning, Lily. Now, if you don’t mind I’d like to speak to Tamika for a moment.” He did turn then so he could look at her and try to convey this wasn’t an order of any sort. He’d never treated staff like they were beneath him and didn’t plan to start now. Lily was already staring at him when he faced her. Roark waited a moment before offering her a smile. “Great coffee, by the way.” He didn’t bother asking how she knew he liked a strong French roast blend.