Time was definitely running out for him to tell Angela that eighteen years ago he’d adopted Tatiana’s child. And he had to pray Angela and his daughter would understand.
Because he loved them both too much to lose either of them.
Nine
Drawing Esme toward his bedroom after their dinner at the club, Jesse didn’t want anything to ruin their last night together in Royal. She was excited about returning to Houston, though he wasn’t sure he shared that excitement.
Hell, who was he kidding? He wasn’t happy about her departure at all, even though he would make the trip with her to review the new clubhouse. Having her here on the ranch had felt too damn right, increasingly so every day they spent together. In spite of what she seemed to think, she fit here. From the way she helped with the ranch to how she blended in with the community, she belonged.
And when she’d looked at the children in the club’s childcare center with such tenderness and even a hint of longing, his last reservation had slid away. He wanted her to make that audition for the role of wife to be a permanent one. Which meant he would have to persuade her to come back to Royal. If not permanently, at least for a while.
One step at a time.
Closing the door to his suite behind them, he flipped on the sconces near the headboard, dimming them low as he turned to soak in the sight of Esme shouldering off the sleeve of her green velvet dress. She looked so beautiful tonight and for a moment, he let himself be mesmerized by the sight of her undressing, until she stood barefoot in a black lace bra-and-panties set. It had been all he could do to keep his hands off her during dinner.
With careful precision, she laid the green velvet dress over the back of the chaise longue as he shrugged off his jacket. Before he laid it aside, however, he pulled an envelope from the pocket and stepped closer to her. “I have something for you.”
“A gift? Thank you.” She looked up in surprise as she took off her chandelier earrings, the jewels throwing multicolored prisms onto her creamy skin. “But it isn’t Christmas yet. I don’t open my presents until the actual day.”
Doing nothing more than standing with her jewelry cupped in her delicate, manicured hands, she made his heart beat faster. A blonde goddess set against the warm brown tones of his bed. Where he longed to be with her.
“It’s a ‘just because’ gift, something you’ll need before the twenty-fifth.” He pulled out two tickets and fanned them between his fingers.
She set aside her earrings on the mahogany chest of drawers. “Tickets?”
Her voice was neutral. Not a good sign, but he pressed ahead all the same.
“To A Christmas Carol. Royal may not be Houston, but we have a good community theater. I thought we could go this weekend after we return from Houston.”
And he waited.
“I’m surprised.” She smiled, stepping into his arms and wrapping her own around his neck. “This is very thoughtful. Thank you.”
She kissed him, long and deep, with a familiarity woven from their past two weeks as lovers. The caress of her fingers along the back of his neck was cool, the press of her breasts a sweet temptation against his chest.
Much longer and he would have her against the wall before he’d locked in her return to Royal.
He angled back, stroking her blond hair over her shoulders with a caress down her spine. “Would you rather do something in Houston? I have no problem going back to the drawing board. We could make the plans together.”
“You’re asking me to come back here for Christmas?” Blue eyes searched his.
He couldn’t quite make out the hesitation or confusion he saw brimming in her face. He prided himself on being an adept observer of body language. Except he couldn’t hold on to a thought long enough to press his agenda, not with his mind scrambled by Esme’s touch, the press of her breasts against his chest.
“Yes, I’m asking you to come back.”
“Let’s worry about the future later. You’re welcome to pamper me right now any other ways that come to mind. I’ll be much nicer about accepting your present,” she said with an unmistakable invitation in her siren’s voice as she tugged him toward the bed, walking backward.
And he didn’t need any encouragement to follow, his gaze drawn like a magnet to the sway of her hips. The narrow indent of her waist. The long, smooth line of her thighs. By the time he tumbled with her onto the mattress, he couldn’t think about anything but pleasuring her. Making her remember how this connection they shared could burn away everything else.
Tunneling his fingers into her hair, he angled her head to kiss her long and slow, deeply and thoroughly. He took his time lowering the strap of her bra, cupping each breast in turn, savoring the shivers that went through her. He liked the feel of her hands on him as she peeled off his shirt, stripped off his belt.
By the time he moved lower to kiss his way down her shoulder, they were both breathing hard, the whisper of exhales mingling with the slide of fabric across the duvet as they swept away the rest of their clothes. Fevered touches gave way to more demanding kisses. His. Hers.
He felt the taut need in her movements as her hips nudged his thighs. Obliging her unspoken demand, he curved a palm over her hip and traced his way to the juncture of her thighs, and he teased her there.
Fingernails bit into his shoulders, a welcome counterpoint to his own need firing through him. He sensed how close she was to finding her release, so he stayed right with her, whispering into her ear how much he wanted her.
When the soft shudders racked her body, the sense of triumph was almost as fierce as his own desire. He didn’t let go for long moments, helping her find every last sweet sensation from her orgasm.
As she stilled, he angled back to glimpse her, to memorize this moment. Her flushed cheeks. Her lips swollen from his kisses. A protective surge fired through him.
He never tired of seeing her in his bed.
Her bed, too, now.
For how long?
He brushed aside the thought that threatened to steal this perfect moment from them both. He refused to accept it could be the last time he had her in his home. Having her stay in Houston was unacceptable.
All the same, there was a frenzy between them tonight. She reached into the bedside table and passed him a condom, urging him to hurry, her voice breathless and encouraging as she sheathed him. Her touch was slow and deliberate. Knowing and tempting.
“Jesse...”
She didn’t need to ask him twice.
He rolled her under him in a smooth sweep, sliding inside with a sense of home. Her legs glided up and around his hips, holding him, syncing them both into a perfect rhythm. Flesh against flesh. Heartbeats racing against each other.
They’d made love in every room of his house in every position and still each time with her was as exciting as the first. And while he wasn’t a romantic, there was something special between them. Something unique. He would be a fool to let it go. To let her go.
Purring her pleasure, she urged him to his back and straddled him. She rode him, fanning the blaze inside him that begged for release.
His hands dug into her hips, guiding her faster as he thrust upward. Even as his eyes grew heavy with the need to seal in this moment, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the sight of her over him. Her blond hair over her shoulders and along her breasts. Her chest rising and falling faster. Her pale flesh flushing. Her release was close. He knew her body that well now. And seeing her orgasm was the sexiest thing he’d ever experienced.
So much so, it sent him crashing into his own climax, sensation surging through him as he plunged into her. It was more than sex. It was—He stopped the thought short, too dazed to let his mind travel that path. She’d already rocked his world beyond measure in a few short weeks.
His life had been forever changed by the rainstorm that had landed her on his doors
tep. And now everything was riding on their trip to Houston and being able to persuade her to leave it all behind.
Because he couldn’t imagine his life without her.
* * *
Tatiana was seething over the board meeting about to take place, bigwigs from Royal in Houston to represent the charter chapter of the Texas Cattleman’s Club.
And she wasn’t welcome.
She tried her damnedest to scrub out any trace of the woman she was before she rose to power in Perry Holdings. She’d shed family mementos. Opted for all new things. Posh designer fixtures. Symbolic, partly, of creating the life she wanted. It still counted for nothing. Got her nowhere. As if not being born into the world of the Perrys meant she could never fully enter the rarefied realm of Houston’s wealthiest society.
Angela called herself a friend, but hadn’t gotten Tatiana a ticket to the inner circle. No matter how much money she made, how high she rose in the Perry firm, she was still an outsider. She’d never felt that more than today. Her fist clenched around a crystal paperweight. Waterford. For once, though, her designer-decorated town house brought her no comfort. She struggled against the urge to hurl the paperweight through the window.
Instead, she strode over to her white Christmas tree decorated with monochrome lights, with silver tinsel and pale blue ornaments. Normally, the twinkling delighted her. An anchor in an ocean of chaos. Today, even as she straightened the ornaments, Christmas magic held nothing for her.
Her doorbell rang, the high-pitched bell chimes cutting her thoughts short and launching a wave of panic through her. Could it be the police? She had spent the past nine months looking over her shoulder. She wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take.
With a deep breath, she steadied her nerves and scraped her red hair back into a sleek ponytail. Not a strand of hair out of place.
She looked through the peephole.
It wasn’t the police. Far from it. A stranger, a teenager, stood in the corridor. Her long red hair and mustard-yellow coat were definitely not cop material, even if she’d been older.
Curious, Tatiana opened the door. “Yes, what can I do for you...”
She let her question drift off, a hint for the teen to introduce herself.
“Maya,” she said, jamming her fists into her yellow coat. “My name is Maya Currin.”
Currin? Maya Currin, as in Ryder’s daughter? Tatiana had heard Angela talk about her future stepdaughter. But other than that, Tatiana had had no contact with the Currin family all these years.
But something brought the girl here today and Maya could use a distraction. “Come in, dear. What can I do for you?”
Maya stepped over the threshold warily, her hyperfocus on Tatiana unnerving. Just as she considered asking the girl to leave, Maya turned her attention to the condo, walking to the massive wall of glass, flattening her palm against it.
“I’m Ryder Currin’s youngest. I’ve been away at college for my freshman year, but I’m home for Christmas.”
The girl looked around the apartment, staring unabashedly, her gaze lingering on the white plush sofa.
What the hell was going on? Was the girl unhinged? “Are you looking for someone?”
A shaky sigh rocked through her before she continued. “I’ve always known I was adopted. My father always swore he would tell me about my biological family once I turned eighteen, but he’s been putting it off. Until yesterday, when I insisted.” She turned back to Tatiana. “I stayed awake all night working up the nerve to confront you.”
Tatiana’s scalp tingled with premonition. This conversation couldn’t be headed where she thought... Still, she started shaking, staring at this beautiful girl with red hair and brown eyes.
Practically a mini version of her.
Tears misted her eyes as the undeniable truth hit home. “Are you my daughter?”
She didn’t even need Maya to respond. She knew. Could sense it between them. Her heart fractured all over again at the time they’d spent apart. And how close her child had been all this time.
Kept from her by Ryder Currin.
Maya nodded slowly. “Yes. My father can confirm it.”
Fat tears rolled down Maya’s face and she flew into Tatiana’s arms with zero hesitation. The one thing that was hers, that no one could take from her. Tatiana held her tight with a possessive urgency. Her child. Grown, safe and beautiful. She’d led the pampered childhood Tatiana hadn’t had. If only Maya’s childhood hadn’t been with that horrid Ryder Currin.
Regret threatened to level her. The choices she’d made had been impossible. Unfair. The reality of how much she’d lost stood in front of her now, a haunting reminder of how truly she’d been robbed.
“I wanted to keep you. I loved you so much.” Tatiana held her hands tightly, hardly able to believe she was truly touching her baby girl. “But I had no money. I was alone. My father was on his last legs healthwise.” A nice way to gloss over her father’s alcoholism. “I begged him to let me give you to a good family to raise.”
And her father had promised her he would. Then he’d turned around and given her baby to Ryder Currin. The betrayal cut deeper than any other.
Fury rose in her, only tempered by the joy of meeting Maya.
“Thank you for letting me in and telling me,” Maya said. “There are so many questions I want to ask, but I have to get back to my dad. I—I—” The teen stuttered with nerves. “I hope we can get to know each other.”
Tatiana’s broken heart warmed, and she was filled with pride over this beautiful child she had created. “I would love that.”
She hugged her daughter again, transported back to the day she’d held the infant bundle in her arms, her heart broken, her life wrecked. The memories lingered long after she’d escorted Maya to the door, leaning against the frame to watch her child walk to the elevator, step inside and disappear from view.
Overwhelmed by emotion, Tatiana backed into her condo and leaned against the closed door, unable to think straight. The man she despised was raising the daughter she’d always loved. It wasn’t fair. Her whole damn life wasn’t fair right now.
For the first time since she’d decorated her apartment, she felt weighed down in this space, in spite of the pristine white decor she’d chosen for a sense of freedom, of a fresh start unsullied by the past. Normally, it soothed her, giving her a sense of control.
Instead, right now the piercing all-white motif made her feel as though she’d been trapped in a hospital, about to undergo surgery. Except the surgery was a painful montage of every moment in her life that went so damn wrong.
She couldn’t escape the cornered feeling that her brother might give her up to avoid jail time. The more she thought about it, the more freaked out she became until she surrendered to the fear. Racing around the condo, she threw a haphazard collection into her suitcase, then frantically searched for her passport. She had to leave the country. Now.
But...
How could she? Her daughter, her baby girl, was here in Houston. And after all this time, she had the chance to get to know her. Her mind whirled all over the place with questions. Had Angela known about this? All this time? That her boyfriend had been raising Tatiana’s daughter?
The fury raged. Angela had to have known. The bitch.
Someone had to pay for all Tatiana had been through. Angela had a golden life, full of advantages from being Sterling Perry’s child, and now from being with Ryder Currin. Both men disgusted Tatiana. They’d stolen that parcel of land from her father. If he hadn’t been cheated, then her family wouldn’t have fallen apart. She wanted Sterling and Ryder to hurt as much as she did right now, as much as she’d always hurt when she’d thought of her daughter.
Her fury focused on the perfect way to make both men suffer. By taking from them someone precious. Angela. If Angela were to die...
Tatiana’s hand
tightened around the paperweight again, the crystal cool in her grip, like a rock in her hand with enough heft to bash in a head. She forced her hold to relax. Whatever happened next was totally in her control.
She’d killed once. She could do so again.
* * *
Esme could hardly believe she was back in Houston. Home. And that Jesse was with her.
It seemed like a lifetime ago that she’d left for Royal. So much had changed since then, hell-bent on making a difference for her dad. She still wanted that for him. In fact, she looked forward to seeing the two most special men in her life—Jesse and her dad—making a difference in the club.
Her family, Jesse, even her brother and sisters.
The gathering would be like a family reunion.
Her suede pumps click-clacked musically against the tile floor in the Houston club building. A tour of the facility had gone well, and now they were meeting in a conference room. Every reverberation made her feel more at home, more comfortable with her newfound happiness. As she turned the corner, she saw a familiar silhouette.
Angela dressed with her pitch-perfect fashion sense in a black-and-white A-line dress with a small clutch. Her sister noticed her nearly at the same moment. A wide grin pulled the corners of her mouth skyward.
With determined steps, Esme closed the distance between her and Angela, wrapping her older sister in a tight hug. She’d missed her and wanted to share the latest news about the burgeoning relationship with Jesse. She just knew Jesse and Ryder would enjoy each other’s company, too, both such down-to-earth men with a love of the land. So much joy and hope for the future coursed through her heart. But as she eased back and looked more fully at her sister, she could sense something was off with Angela.
“What’s going on?” Esme prodded gently. Possibilities cartwheeled through her mind.
At the simple question, Angela’s face paled. Deeper concern rose in Esme’s chest, and she maneuvered them to one of the decorative palms out of earshot of the people milling in the halls as guests from Royal began arriving at the Houston chapter clubhouse for the tour of the new facility.
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