Julianna held out her hand and he moved closer, lying down with his head on her thigh. In a quiet voice, she asked, “Did you ever suspect any of this? About your dad and my mom?”
“No.” Roman shook his head. “It all makes sense, though.” He closed his eyes as she slid her fingers into his hair. “Maybe a miracle will happen. Maybe he’ll see the senselessness of all of this and decide it’s time to let it go.”
“Maybe,” Julianna said, her voice soft. “If ever there was a time to let it go, it’s now.”
“Yeah.” He lay there, enjoying the feel of her hand in his hair as he brooded over his father.
He wasn’t expecting any sort of miracle, but Julianna was right.
If ever there was a time to let go, it was now.
It would be almost poetic, should it happen now.
A woman had started this feud. It stood to reason that it would take a woman to end it, even if it was decades later.
24
Roman
“We should consider adding a few personal touches,” Julianna said lightly as they walked through the doors of the hotel boardroom where they’d first met months earlier. “We’re here so often, it’s starting to feel like home. But all these neutral colors…they just don’t work for me.”
Roman laughed and reached over to catch her hand, giving it a light squeeze. That light touch managed to settle some of the nerves he felt and he wished he could just keep on touching her. It might make this meeting go a little more smoothly.
But, he thought, considering who had yet to show, then again, maybe not.
“Do we wish each other luck here or good luck to us both or what?” he asked, striving to keep the same light tone she’d used.
“Good luck to us both. This is for us,” she reminded him. Then she rose onto her toes and brushed a kiss against his lips.
She broke away only seconds before her father came into the room. He glanced from her to Roman, a graying brow going up. He came over to her and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “I tried calling to see if you needed a lift, but I couldn’t reach you.”
“I already had plans,” she said, smiling at him.
Roman recalled the phone ringing a few hours earlier—he and Julianna had been very much distracted at the time and he suppressed a wince as he wondered how Charles Castle would handle it if he knew what Julianna had been doing at the time.
I’m sorry, sir. Your daughter and I are engaged in some very strenuous water sports and can’t currently come to the phone.
He bit back a laugh.
Of course, the older man may very well already know about him and Julianna. She had told him that her mother knew and she might have already told her father.
Somebody cleared a throat behind him and Roman turned to face Michael Montrose.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Julianna leading her parent away.
He didn’t look away from his father. It was the first time they’d seen each other since their fight. Michael was dressed in funeral suit of all black and a blindingly white shirt. The tie, too, was all, black, as was the small pocket square of the suit.
Michael Montrose had chosen to attend what could be one of the most important meetings of his career dressed like he was going to a funeral.
Roman couldn’t help but notice it and he wondered at the significance. His father was sending a message, but he wasn’t sure if it was for him…or somebody else.
“Hello, Dad,” Roman said, slipping a hand into his pocket.
Michael inclined his head, his eyes straying behind him to linger briefly on either Julianna or her father.
He was betting on Julianna. Roman could see the flicker of anger there, the questions, the determination.
He hadn’t softened even the slightest, Roman knew. But Roman hadn’t expected otherwise.
“What’s this all about, Roman?” Michael asked in a wintry voice. “Some smokescreen to try and distract me from what’s going on between you and that Castle woman?”
“She has a name,” Roman said mildly.
Michael’s glare intensified. “You going to answer me?”
Moira Templeton’s appearance wasn’t so much a rescue but a temporary reprieve. Things between Roman and his father were far from settled, he knew. And after the meeting… Roman didn’t want to think about how much more unsettled things might get.
“Hello, everybody!” she said, walking in.
Her eyes landed on Michael and Roman and without blinking an eye, she walked right up to Michael and dropped a kiss on his cheek.
He grudgingly allowed it and gave her a stern smile.
In contrast to his formal black, she wore a dress of bright, peacock blue and looked quite cheerful as she drew away from the elder Montrose and tapped his arm.
“Michael, stop looking like such a mean old grouch,” she said with a kind of charm unique to the Templeton family. “Come, everybody…let’s have a seat and get started.”
On her way to her chair at the head of the table, she paused by Julianna and her father, giving Julianna a quick hug and giving Charles an echo of the kiss she’d given Michael. “It’s good to see you, Charles,” she said in a warm voice.
By the time she’d got herself a cup of coffee, everybody was seated, although Roman’s father hadn’t lost the cynical, dour expression.
Roman slanted a sidelong look toward Julianna. She met his eyes at exactly the right moment and he wondered if she knew what he was thinking.
Things weren’t off to a great start.
At least not on the Montrose side of things.
“Let me just say in conclusion,” Moira said, her lips curving in a pleased smile. “This is one way our three families will cement their positions as the top names when it comes to fine jewelry. We can do something great together, the three of us. If we can all work together.”
For a long, tense few moments, nobody spoke.
Charles went to open his mouth, but Michael cut him off. “There’s no way in hell I’ll ever work with a Castle,” he said, each word coming out sharp and edged, like he’d hacked them off with a blade. “This is just a fantasy, Moira. There’s no way your father would approve of this.”
“Oh, there’s a way,” Moira said, shaking her head. “You think I’d be here talking to you if I didn’t have a firm belief that he’d approve of it?”
Roman caught Julianna’s eyes at that statement, wondering.
Julianna had left him believing that Moira’s father would be open to the idea, but Moira made him think that as far as she was concerned, they were just waiting on the two families to agree.
Which wasn’t going to happen.
“As I said,” Michael said, rising from his seat. “There’s no way in hell I’ll work with a Castle. Come along, Roman. We’re done here.”
Roman remained in his seat, his eyes on Moira. “I believe I’ll stay and listen to what Moira has to say. I don’t believe she’s done.”
“If she needs the approval of both families—”
“Michael, you’re a stubborn old goat. Would you stop thinking with your pride for a few minutes and sit your ass down?” Charles cut in, surprising everybody. He stood, a hand outstretched. “It’s time to let bygones be bygones. We’ve got a chance to do something amazing, as Moira said. For my part, I want to hear more of her proposal.”
“I’m a stubborn old goat?” Michael half-shouted, jabbing a thumb at his chest. His face had turned an alarming shade of red and a vein stood out near his temple. “Well, I’d rather be a stubborn old goat than a—”
He stopped abruptly, snapping his jaw shut with an audible click. With a vicious wave of his hand, he swept the room with an encompassing gaze. “I’ve no interest in being involved in this…partnership,” he said, a faint sneer in his voice.
“Perhaps you might want to hear about what lies behind door number two,” Moira said softly.
Michael canted his head, eyeing her with a questioning look.
Moira took a
deep breath, then gave both Roman and Julianna a quick look. Julianna was the one to offer a subtle nod.
Roman leaned back in his chair, projecting a more casual air than he felt. Next to him, he could feel his father, all but vibrating with anger and he knew it was about to get worse.
Much worse.
“The other option is that Julianna, Roman and I explore this new avenue on our own. I’ve spoken with my father and brothers. It won’t be as easy,” Moira said, lifting one shoulder in a small shrug. “But we’re up for the challenge. Roman and Julianna have some capital to put forward, as do I. I’ve talked to my brothers who’ve agreed to be silent partners in exchange for a percentage of the profits in the coming years, and I believe my father will be open to the idea as well. If we can’t do this with the backing of Montrose Jewelers and Castle Jewels, then it will be an enterprise between Julianna, Roman and myself.”
“Over my dead body,” Michael said in a low, tight voice.
“I’ve already prepared my resignation, Dad,” Roman said, tapping a finger on the arm of the chair as his father turned to look at him. “And I’ve spoken with my banker about transferring the shares gifted to me by my grandparents when I graduated from college. Between those shares and the inheritance from my maternal grandmother’s estate, I’ll have the money needed to cover my share.”
“You’ll bankrupt yourself over this harebrained scheme!” Michael snarled.
“I don’t think so.” Allowing himself one small smile, Roman met his father’s eyes. “And I believe if you’re honest with yourself, you don’t think so either. In a few short years, this new enterprise will become a new, dominating name. In time, we’ll be a serious competitor. Is that what you want, Dad?”
Michael opened his mouth, then, without saying a single word, he closed it.
They all watched as he turned on his heel and stormed out.
Several moments of silence ticked away as they all stared at the empty doorway.
“Maybe he’ll come around,” Julianna said softly.
“He won’t,” Roman said.
At the same time, Charles said, “Not likely, sweetheart.”
Roman turned his head and watched as Charles reached over to cover his daughter’s hand with his own. A pang of envy tugged at him. He didn’t begrudge her the obvious closeness she shared with her father, but he sure as hell wished he could have had something similar with his own parent.
Instead he had ice and stone.
“Moira,” Charles said quietly.
“Sir?”
The mood in the room had taken a decidedly downward turn, but she faced the elder Castle with a determined smile on her pretty face.
She was a Templeton, through and through, Roman thought. They didn’t know the meaning of the word quit.
“Perhaps you can go into more detail about this possible joint venture. Whether Michael wants in or not, I do.” Charles squeezed his daughter’s hand, then met Roman’s gaze. “It’s possible I could arrange a loan of sorts, for the two of you, as Moira discussed with her family. Ready cash now in exchange for a percentage of the profits in the future. Assuming, of course, I’m part of the deal. I can’t speak for Michael, but I won’t let old history interfere with the here and now.”
Julianna leaned over and hugged her father.
Moira grinned. “Sir, I’d be absolutely delighted to give you more detail.”
“I guess we need to start crunching numbers,” Julianna said, wilting in her seat.
She had a look on her face that clearly said she couldn’t believe everything had happened so fast.
Her father was in.
Moira had all but danced her way out of the door a few short minutes ago.
She was going to call her father, she’d told them. One or both of them would be in touch—dinner, maybe?
Roman and Julianna had nodded their agreement and Charles had waved a hand. “Whatever these two want,” he’d said.
Now, his agreeable air was gone and he leaned back in his chair, watching Roman with insightful eyes.
That look made Roman want to squirm in his seat, but he didn’t let himself. He wasn’t some teenaged boy who’d been caught climbing up the side of the house. He wasn’t going to act like one. It was harder than he would have liked to admit.
“Tell me something, Roman,” Charles said, reaching for the coffee sitting in front of him. “Just how long has this thing with my daughter been going on?”
Julianna tensed and shot him a look. “You know?”
He snorted out a laugh. “Of course I know. Think I’ve gone blind? The two of you could hardly keep your eyes off each other during the meeting.”
Julianna practically deflated in her seat and Roman suspected she’d been wondering if her mother had said anything.
“Well?” Charles asked, his voice testy.
“Too long,” Roman admitted, thinking of the months they’d spent keeping it quiet.
“Are we talking weeks? Months?” Charles’ eyes narrowed. “Years?”
“Months.” With a laugh, Roman shook his head. “It was hard enough keeping it quiet for that long, sir. I’ll offer an apology, but I can’t pretend to be remorseful. I don’t have a lick of regret.”
“As long as it wasn’t back when the two of you met in boarding school,” Charles said, waving a hand.
“Boarding school?” Julianna asked.
Roman glanced at her, but she had her eyes on her father.
“Yes. Don’t you remember?” Charles cocked his head, studying his daughter with a smile on his face. “It was one of those times your asthma flared up and it was so bad, you had to be hospitalized. Thank God you grew out of that. Anyway, while you were in the hospital, there was a bad strep infection going throughout the children’s ward and they didn’t want to risk you getting sick. You ended up getting isolated with this boy here. But Michael found out and…well. That was the end of it. You talked about him for weeks after his dad had him moved to a different room. This was the boy who taught you how to play solitaire and he tried to teach you how to play poker.”
Julianna’s lips parted and she slid her eyes toward Roman, the look in her gaze softening.
“That was you,” she whispered.
He just shrugged. Looking back at her father, he asked, “So you have no problems with us being together?”
Once more, Charles gave him that look that made him want to squirm in his seat.
But after a few seconds, the older man’s face softened and he smiled at Roman. “Just make her happy.”
“I’m sorry about your dad,” Juliana said.
It was a few nights later and they lay in bed in her apartment, the city spread out just beyond the window in a dazzling, jeweled array.
They’d had dinner with Moira and Edgar Templeton to start hammering down details.
Nothing was official—yet.
That would take lawyers and paperwork, but they all trusted each other and knew what they wanted out of the deal, so they expected it to go smoothly.
Edgar had been overall quite pleased with things, but both Roman and Julianna had heard him muttering over a drink with Charles. The words stubborn old goat had been heard more than once.
Roman had resigned from Montrose Jewelers. Being fired would be one hell of a splash in the papers, but it wasn’t the kind of publicity he wanted. Nobody would have to speculate about why it happened, though.
Pictures of him and Julianna out the night before had peppered the papers that morning and rumors of them being together as a couple were whirling around.
It probably didn’t hurt that one of the pictures was of the two of them kissing.
They hadn’t known about the photographers, but even if they had, neither of them would have cared.
Now, as she lay against him, one hand circling over his chest in teasing strokes, Roman turned his head to nuzzle her hair. “I knew it was coming.”
“Knowing it doesn’t make it easier, does it?” she asked.
He thought about it a moment before agreeing, “No, I don’t guess it does.” He pulled her on top of him and said, “But I’d give up everything to be with you. I don’t want you to ever doubt that. Not even for a second.”
A sweet smile curved her lips and she lowered her head to kiss him.
Just as interest started to rise in him, though, she lifted her head. Hands pillowed on his chest, she rested her chin on them. “I know you and Dad both think he’s not going to come around, but I keep hoping you’re wrong.”
“The old man is too stubborn,” he told her with a shake of his head. “He doesn’t know how to admit he made a mistake and that would be the first thing necessary to fix this. It’s not even that I need him to say he’s sorry. But for him to allow himself to talk to me, he’d need to admit that he either screwed up…or he’d want me to say I screwed up.” Roman stroked a hand down her hair. “And you’re where he’d want me to say I screwed up. I love my dad, but I’m not going to lie to win his approval, Julianna.”
Her chest shuddered on a deep, sighing breath and she turned her head to rest it on his chest. Curling an arm around his neck, she said, “You know, it ought to be easier than this. I love you. You love me. We’re happy. Why can’t that be enough for him?”
“Because he’s a stubborn old goat. Your father’s words, not mine.”
She hiccupped out a laugh. “My old man has always had a way with words.”
“A veritable poet,” Roman agreed.
Then, before she could say anything else, he flipped her onto her back and caught one of her hands in his, dragging it up over her head. “You know, I’ve got you naked and warm and now you’re trapped. I can think of much better things to do than talk about either of our parents.”
She grinned up at him, giving him a cheeky smile. “Oh, really? And just what is that?”
Hate to Crave You Page 16