by Dani Wade
Much to his chagrin, Royce was a sucker for it.
Her high chair had been set beside him with Jasmine on the other side. The setup felt unreal to him, as if his brain couldn’t comprehend what he’d gotten himself into. But he also had no desire to hightail it for the front door—an odd development, to say the least.
Normally, he would have been the first one to hit the road.
As they ate, Rosie alternated between her baby food and sippy cup, and playing with the emerald ring on Jasmine’s right hand.
“You wear that ring a lot,” he said. “Where’s it from?”
The table went strangely silent, as if he’d asked something completely inappropriate—or something they didn’t really want to answer.
“It’s an heirloom piece we recently found in an old jewelry box,” Auntie finally said.
Royce could swear the women around him slumped just a little.
“The girls’ family line goes all the way back to the origins of Savannah. Their ancestor was a pirate who turned respectable and married the daughter of one of the founding families.”
Royce grinned at Jasmine over Rosie’s head. “Respectable, huh? So that’s where you learned to fit in with the elite crowd so well.”
“It’s in the genes,” she confirmed, putting on a fake bravado.
“It’s actually quite fascinating,” Willow said before launching into a monologue about Savannah’s origins.
“History nerd,” Jasmine mumbled out of the side of her mouth.
Royce quickly smothered his laugh when Willow glared. “I would hope so,” she declared. “Otherwise I’d suck at teaching it.”
“That makes perfect sense,” Royce said. “I’m sure someone who loves history makes it much more interesting for her students.”
That seemed to mollify Willow—that and sticking her tongue out at her sister.
Royce felt himself relaxing even more. Dinner around the family table was an experience he’d never had. When he and his mother had eaten together, usually on Sundays, they’d sat next to each other in front of the television, eating off of TV trays. He hadn’t expected to enjoy this when he’d sat down tonight.
Just then, a soft weight rested against his arm. He glanced down into the two soft brown eyes in Rosie’s tiny round face. She blinked slowly, then rubbed her head against his arm.
“Um...” Royce glanced around the table, something akin to panic building in his core.
Willow giggled first, then Ivy. Auntie simply smiled.
Jasmine rolled her eyes, shaking her head at her daughter. “You big flirt.”
“She is a woman, after all,” Auntie said.
Royce glanced back down. The baby grinned, showing the first of her teeth in her otherwise empty gums. The panic disintegrated. A feeling he didn’t recognize settled in its place. Something similar to how he felt when lying exhausted in Jasmine’s arms. Almost like...peace.
“How about a change of subject?” Jasmine asked. “After all, I’m not sure how comfortable I am thinking about my six-month-old as a woman. Too early.” She turned to Royce. “Shall we talk about the Jeffersons’ soirée?”
“Oh, you get to go to that?” Ivy asked. “I loved the times I was allowed to go as Jasmine’s guest.”
Willow frowned. “Not me. Too many people and I had no idea what to talk about. I much prefer smaller groups.”
“Which is why I’m going to the masquerade and you aren’t,” Ivy said.
“Have fun.” Obviously Willow was not the social butterfly type.
Jasmine explained, “Willow is more of an introvert than the rest of us.”
“My students are about as big of a group as I can handle,” Willow said. “And even that exhausts me sometimes.”
“I can sympathize, Willow,” Royce said. “I’m a homebody myself. Comfortable only in my private spaces or the office. I don’t often attend social events, but when I do, I try to think of these things as business meetings—just with more people present and a more fluid agenda.”
“I hate to burst your bubble, but not this time,” Jasmine said.
Royce glanced at her over the baby hugging his arm. “What do you mean?”
Her blue eyes were slightly somber. “The Jeffersons don’t do business at these things. It’s very socially oriented. That’s why they are picky about the guest list.”
“All of these social events are covers for getting business done. You may not see it, but it’s there,” Royce insisted. He’d been to enough of them to know, even if such parties weren’t his preferred venue. “Otherwise, they’d be a big waste of time.”
She was already shaking her head. “Not this time. While there are usually a lot of business people there, it isn’t discussed directly. Remember my little talk about building connections, not just business deals? They’re just as important. Trust me.”
“Sure.” We’ll see. Jasmine was a smart woman. A whole lot more people smart than he was. But Royce knew business...and he was determined to advance his at every opportunity—no matter what she thought she knew.
Royce would trust his instincts. Every time.
* * *
Jasmine smoothed out the collar of her dress, then the skirt. It felt weird to be heading to a public event with Royce. They’d spent plenty of time together in private—delectable time. And, yes, they’d occasionally talked business or gone over progress for the masquerade, but this was different. Something they had never addressed.
Attending the Jeffersons’ Sunday Salon with Royce put her on a path that left her with no distinct sense of how to act. Was this business? Was it a date? Would she look into his eyes and see the heat that often exploded between them without warning?
How should she react? Naturally? Or keep it under wraps? All the questions had her twisting her hands together in her lap.
Suddenly Royce pulled his car over and put it in park. Jasmine’s stomach flip-flopped. But she swallowed against the tightening in her throat and asked, “Is something wrong?”
“You tell me. Is something wrong, Jasmine?”
“How did you know?” As if her stiffness this morning wasn’t a clear sign. She’d been hoping he would ignore it.
“You’re not at all your normal happy, mischievous self today.”
She glanced over at him, realizing that was probably the first time she’d looked directly at him since they’d gotten into the car. No wonder he’d asked. Royce wasn’t stupid.
“Sorry.”
“Just tell me what it is and we’ll figure it out.”
He was right. Even though this was the last thing she wanted to talk about, what was the point of prolonging the torture that she’d been enduring for over a month? “I’m just not sure...” She swallowed, trying to loosen up her throat. This was something she’d never had to say to a client. “I’m not sure how you want me to act while we are here...out in public.”
His grip tightened on the steering wheel as he nodded slowly. “I see what you mean.”
“I know you hired me as your event planner. Attending this party was part of our business agreement. I’m just—”
Without warning, he leaned across the console to cup her face with his palms. The press of his lips to hers was so familiar now, almost as necessary as breathing. The fear, the uncertainty sparked by that revelation, was something she spent a lot of energy ignoring every day.
She opened her eyes to meet his, just inches away.
“I should have known this would be a problem,” he murmured.
Her heart sank.
“I have no idea where this is going between us,” Royce said.
This was it...he was going to dump her because she’d asked how he wanted her to behave in public.
He rubbed his thumb against her cheek. “But it’
s time we just accept that it’s there and deal with it. Don’t you agree?”
“Wait. What?”
“Surprised?” He granted her his rare grin. “Me, too.”
As if he couldn’t stop himself, he kissed her again. His touch was tinged with a gentleness that had tears burning behind her eyes.
“Listen,” he said. “We don’t have to be all over each other. We don’t have to ignore what’s happening between us, either.”
Jasmine took a deep breath, searching his expression. “You don’t care if people talk?”
“My mom and I learned a long time ago that talk can’t hurt you if you don’t let it. You and I started on this path with business as the sole purpose, but we left that behind a while back.”
She sat stunned while he pulled back out onto the road. She’d been working hard to convince herself that her time with Royce was limited and would eventually end. That he could never accept Rosie or Jasmine’s commitment to her family. All to keep herself from getting too involved.
He’d been so accepting of Rosie the other night. Jasmine hadn’t tested it further, but seeing her daughter cuddle up to Royce’s arm had done something to her. Made her wonder, for the brief moment she’d allowed herself to, whether this might actually be a possibility. Could this be another sign that what was happening between them might actually work? For real?
Silence reigned until they pulled into the long drive to the Jeffersons’ palatial home. They lined up behind the considerable number of cars already parked out front.
It wasn’t until Royce came around to help her out that he spoke. And he was so relaxed, it was as if there hadn’t been a long silence between them. “So, you just be your beautiful, smart self, and I promise not to accost you when everyone is looking. Okay?”
“What about when they aren’t?”
Again he reached out to her cheek, smoothing the pad of his thumb across it as if testing the texture of her skin. She heard the telltale note in his voice that always signaled his arousal as he said, “I’m sorry. I can’t make any promises about that.”
For the first time since she’d woken up that morning, Jasmine laid her worry aside and smiled. “I guess I’ll have to live with that.”
It was different, entering the stately house on Royce’s arm. She’d been there over a dozen times before, and the Jeffersons had never made her feel anything but welcome. They did the same this time. Still, her smile was a little bigger, her confidence a little higher and her mood a whole lot brighter. Royce stiffened as they went in, but she chalked it up to adrenaline. She doubted Royce ever really felt nerves. But something had to power him through all those business negotiations and decisions.
“Royce Brazier, this is Don and Marilyn Jefferson, our hosts,” she said, automatically attempting to put everyone at ease.
The man she’d respected for a long time shook Royce’s hand without hesitation. “Welcome to our home. I believe we’ve met once or twice before, but always on more formal occasions,” Don Jefferson said with his slow Southern drawl.
Jasmine was grateful to see Royce meet his gaze and shake his hand without any of the macho posturing she’d had to endure in some Savannah circles. “I believe so, sir. Thank you for having me.”
“Always a pleasure. We’re glad to see you, but would welcome anyone Miss Jasmine cared to bring with her.”
“It was gracious of her to include me in her invite, sir,” Royce said, with a smile in her direction that lingered just a little longer than normal.
Jasmine warmed from the inside out, despite the sleeveless summer dress she wore.
“This is my wife, Marilyn. Please, call me Don. Now Jasmine, why don’t you show Royce where the food is? Make yourself at home. We can talk after a while,” Mr. Jefferson said.
Fifteen minutes of mingling, with Royce’s hand at the small of her back and a mimosa or two, helped Jasmine get a handle on how to behave. She let Royce lead, but introduced him to a few couples he hadn’t met before. Most were familiar with his meteoric rise in Savannah’s shipping industry but were gracious enough not to grill him on his presence at today’s party.
“So, what are you working on now?” Evette Pierce asked Jasmine. She’d been to several of Jasmine’s events, and they’d worked together on a charity event last spring.
“It’s gonna be so much fun.” Jasmine knew she was gushing, but she couldn’t hold her excitement in. “We’re working on a masquerade night in late May. You’ll love it.”
“Sounds fascinating.”
“It will be. And the proceeds will go to build a dormitory for the mission.”
Evette raised her wineglass. “A cause very close to you, I know. You can count on me being there.”
As they moved away, Royce leaned closer to whisper, “I thought this wasn’t the place to discuss business?”
“She asked,” Jasmine said with a shrug. “Besides, it wasn’t really business. I was just passing her information about something fun I think she would enjoy.”
“Po-tay-toes, pot-ah-toes.”
She simply grinned. “Told you. Everything has a social spin.”
“And you are the smarty-pants I should trust to know what she’s doing?”
“Every time.”
Royce grinned down at her. Movement in the doorway behind him caused her to glance over his shoulder. Don and Marilyn were greeting a man in the foyer. Suddenly Don looked toward her, a frown on his face as his gaze met hers. Only as the other man faced her did she realize who it was. And why Don looked so unhappy.
The man who had just arrived was Royce’s father.
Fourteen
“I do want to apologize for the mix-up,” Don said as he led Royce down an ornately paneled hallway into an office.
“What mix-up?” Royce asked.
Don let the heavily carved door close then studied Royce for a moment. He had a feeling this wasn’t going to be a very comfortable conversation. And he could think of only one subject that would warrant this type of formality from his host.
“Of having your father here without any warning.”
Bingo.
Don stepped into the room, gesturing Royce toward a chair while he took the one behind the large desk. “Not all of our guests are as courteous as Jasmine about letting us know who they are bringing with them.”
Royce felt the unease that had been simmering since he’d first caught sight of his father rise a little higher. Not for himself, but—“I don’t like the idea of him having access to Jasmine.” Especially without him there to run interference.
Don offered an approving look. “We agree. Marilyn will be watching over her until you return. I assure you, she’s quite capable of handling men of his ilk.” He grinned. “Jasmine can, too, though she’s often polite to a fault.”
He studied Royce for a minute more before he asked, “Does he know about the two of you?”
“What?”
“That your relationship has become personal as well as professional?”
Royce wasn’t sure he wanted to address that issue yet. Something had been bothering him since this conversation started.
“How did you know he was my father?” Royce asked. “That’s not something I advertise.”
“I don’t blame you. He’s not the kind of man I’d want to claim as a relation, either.”
Royce met the other man’s gaze in surprise. It wasn’t often he had conversations with people who would admit to disliking his father as much as he did.
Don explained. “I’m a very thorough man. I know a lot about you, Royce. I’ve kept you on my radar for a while. With your meteoric rise on Savannah’s business scene, it was inevitable we would do business with each other at some point. When your proposal came in, we had you investigated.”
“Why?” But
there was something Royce wanted to know more. “Actually, right now, I just want to know if my father has ever tried to do business with you.”
Don nodded slowly. “He has attempted to work with us in the past. And, yes, I did investigate him just as thoroughly. But I didn’t find the connection at that time.”
He smiled at Royce. “I didn’t need to investigate to see your relationship with Jasmine. It’s all in her face, though she tries to hide it.”
Royce could see it, too, every time she looked at him. He was deeply worried his own feelings showed just as clearly, and he wasn’t ready for that.
Don leaned back in his chair, causing it to creak. “As to why we investigate the personal backgrounds of potential business associates, I like to know who we’re working with. Not just what you’re capable of in a business arena, but who you are as a person. Unusual, but that’s just how my wife and I like running our company. It works for us.”
Royce wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He could understand the concern, but the idea that his personal life had been scrutinized wasn’t something he was comfortable acknowledging.
“Of course, we don’t usually share that knowledge with our employees or contractors,” Don said, “but in this instance, I felt it was particularly important.”
“Again, why?”
“Well, I doubt this will make you feel any better about my snooping, but we happen to have taken a special interest in Jasmine Harden.”
Royce wasn’t above digging for his own information. This he wanted to hear. “My event planner?”
Don cocked his head to one side. “Is that all she is?”
“You tell me. You’re the one hunting for info.”
“Touché. You’ve just never been known to date much. She’s never dated any of her clients.”
This was getting more bizarre by the minute, but the fact that Don was concerned about Jasmine oddly reassured Royce. “I guess the real question is—is there a problem with anything you found out?” He might as well know if his history was about to stand in the way of his future.