Whatever You Like

by Maureen Smith

  Lena frowned. “What gentleman?”

  “Tall, good-looking fellow. Killer tux. Lethal glare.”

  Lena followed the direction of Dylan’s gaze across the crowded ballroom—and froze.

  Roderick.

  Her heart jammed in her throat.

  What was he doing in Chicago? Just over a week ago he’d told her he wouldn’t be home for months. And now here he was at the same party, his dark eyes simmering with leashed fury as he glared at her and Dylan.

  Averting her gaze, Lena took a hasty gulp of champagne and coughed when the bubbles shot straight up her nose.

  “Are you all right?” Dylan asked.

  She nodded quickly, throat burning, eyes tearing up.

  “Old flame?”

  “Not old enough,” she mumbled.

  Dylan nodded wisely. “Want me to tell him to bugger off?”

  That wrung a hoarse, mirthless laugh out of her. “I wouldn’t recommend that.”

  “Indeed. I’ve grown rather fond of having my limbs attached to my body.”

  Lena grinned wryly at him before she braved another glance in Roderick’s direction. He was now conversing with a beautiful woman whose breasts were spilling out of her low-cut dress. His date? Lena wondered, then told herself she shouldn’t care. Even though she did.

  Dylan was also studying Roderick, his eyes narrowed speculatively. “He looks familiar.”

  “Hmm.” Lena didn’t volunteer Roderick’s name. She’d spent the past week trying her damnedest to forget about him. Why did he have to show up tonight? Had he known that she would be there? Did he intend to make his way over to her, or would they spend the whole evening pretending to be strangers?

  She needn’t have worried.

  When she glanced around the room again, Roderick was gone.

  She and Dylan toughed out the party until ten-thirty. After dropping him off at his hotel, Lena implored the chauffeur to drive around the city for a while so she could clear her head. By the time she returned to the empty silence of her apartment, midnight had come and gone. She went through the motions of changing into a nightgown, brushing her teeth and cleansing her face. And then she crawled into bed and prepared to lie awake for hours, as she’d done every night since leaving Tokyo.

  It was after one when she heard the doorbell ring.

  She didn’t pretend not to know who it was.

  She’d been expecting him.

  But that didn’t stop her heart from hammering wildly as she slid out of bed, slipped on a robe and made her way to the front door.

  He was in shirtsleeves, the shirttail untucked from his pants and his tie jerked loose around the collar. Without waiting for an invitation, he shouldered past her into the apartment.

  Closing and locking the door behind him, she said tightly, “It’s late—”

  “Did you have a good time at the party?” he asked curtly.

  “Yes, I did,” she lied, defiantly folding her arms across her chest and glaring at him. “Did you?”

  “I think you know the answer to that question.”

  “Actually, I don’t. One minute you were talking into a woman’s cleavage. The next minute you were nowhere to be found.”

  “Jealous?” he taunted.

  Her temper flared. “Go to hell, Roderick.”

  As she stalked past him he grasped her upper arm, pulling her around to face him. She hated the way her body shivered in response to his touch.

  His eyes blazed into hers. “I didn’t leave with her.”

  “I don’t care!”

  “Liar,” he snarled.

  She tried to yank her arm away, but he tightened his hold. Not hurting her, but making it impossible for her to escape.

  “Who was that man you were with?”

  “Who do you think?” she hissed. “He was a client.”

  “Did you sleep with him?” Roderick demanded.

  Her jaw went slack, and she stared up at him in wounded outrage. “How dare you ask me that question?”

  “Did you?”

  “None of your damn business!”

  “The hell it isn’t!”

  “Why?” she jeered. “You think you own me? Just because we had an arrangement for three weeks, you think that gives you the right to barge in here and ask me whatever the hell you want?”

  “Don’t play with me, Lena,” he growled warningly. “I drove by here an hour ago, and you weren’t home. So answer my damn question. Did you sleep with him?”

  Something snapped inside her, and she shouted, “Yes, damn you! I slept with him!”

  Roderick’s face contorted with fury, even as a whispered denial burst from his lips, “I don’t believe you!”

  “No? Well, it’s true. I fucked him,” Lena spat, deliberately crude. “I was rattled after I saw you at the party, so he suggested that we leave and go somewhere to talk. He was a very good listener. One thing led to another, and we wound up back at his hotel room.”

  Roderick closed his eyes and ground out through clenched teeth, “You’re lying.”

  “I assure you I’m not. He has a strawberry birthmark on the inside of his right thigh. I told him the shape reminded me of the British royal crest. He said it was proof that he was the rightful heir to the throne, and we laughed. And then he kissed me—”

  Roderick released her arm abruptly and stalked toward the living room as though he couldn’t stand to be anywhere near her.

  But she wasn’t finished with him. She wanted to hurt him as much as he’d hurt her with his unjust accusations.

  “Ever since the first time I heard Idris Elba speak,” she continued tauntingly, “I’ve had a thing for British accents. So I was in trouble the moment Dylan opened his mouth. While we made love he talked dirty to me. The things he said with that accent… Oh, man, it drove me wild.” She laughed, a harsh, nasty laugh she didn’t even recognize as her own.

  “Poor Glenn,” she said, shaking her head with mock sympathy. “It took him three dates to get me into bed. You and Dylan? One and done. At this rate, my next client won’t even have to wait—”

  “Enough!” Roderick roared. He spun around and advanced on her, looking enraged enough to hit her. But he did something potentially worse. He cupped her face in his hands and seized her mouth with fierce, hungry possession.

  “Damn you,” Lena whispered furiously, even as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back with equal ferocity.

  She heard a crash as he swept the small foyer lamp to the floor, plunging them into moonlit darkness. He then lifted her against him and planted her on top of the table. In a frenzy of impatience, he unzipped his pants and shoved her silk robe and nightgown out of the way, growling when he discovered that she wore no panties.

  His mouth ground bruisingly against hers as her thighs locked around his hips. He drove into her, swallowing her sharp cry as he buried himself to the base.

  He began thrusting, rocking the table against the wall with the force of each deep, savage stroke. Within moments they were both crying out and erupting together in a violent rush.

  Lena’s body was still vibrating with the aftershocks of orgasm when Roderick struck the wall behind her with his fist, then dropped his head forward, aligning his cheek with hers. His breathing was as loud and ragged as her own. Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to shed even a single one.

  If he’d told her right then and there that he loved her, that he didn’t believe she was a whore who slept indiscriminately with her clients, she would have recanted everything she’d said.

  But a moment later he pulled out of her, tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up. He didn’t speak, didn’t meet her eyes in the moonlight. Instead he turned and walked slowly to the door, as if his legs had become lead weights. Her breath stalled as he paused with one hand on the doorknob, head bent, broad shoulders hunched as he wrestled with the decision to stay or go. She waited, heart pounding frantically, every fiber of her being clamoring to call out to him, to
beg him not to leave her. But she remained proudly silent.

  After an agonizing eternity, he opened the door and departed without a backward glance.

  And this time Lena knew she’d seen the last of him.

  Slowly she drew her legs up to her chest, dropped her face onto her knees and finally let the tears fall, a bitter deluge of heartache and regret.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  As October slipped into November, Lena’s days settled into a predictable routine that she almost welcomed for the sake of her sanity. She got up every morning and drove an hour to work, where she’d been recently promoted to assistant director of grants and corporate development, a position that put her in charge of two grant writers and an intern. She’d also received a ten-thousand-dollar salary increase and gushing accolades from the college’s president, who’d waxed eloquent about Lena’s accomplishments during the grant dedication ceremony heavily attended by the media.

  As she posed for the requisite photo op with the giant cardboard check, Lena smiled brightly and forced herself not to think about what she’d had to do to procure the grant money, the ultimate price she’d had to pay. She was relieved when Roderick sent a company executive to represent him at the ceremony. She couldn’t have maintained her composure if he’d been there, couldn’t have smiled through the charade.

  After the way her last date had ended, she dreaded the idea of going out with another client. Fortunately, she had enough money saved up to cover her grandfather’s care expenses for the next six months, so she didn’t need the extra income right away.

  When she called Zandra and told her she was taking some time off, Zandra didn’t ask any questions.

  She didn’t have to.

  Thanksgiving rolled around, arriving at a time in Lena’s life when she was feeling anything but thankful. She wanted nothing more than to spend the day in bed, wallowing in her misery. But she knew she couldn’t do that. She had a feast to prepare, a family tradition to uphold.

  That afternoon, she was removing a picture-perfect turkey from the oven when her grandfather wheeled himself into the kitchen, looking refreshed from his catnap. She’d taken him out of the retirement home for the next four days so they could spend the holiday together as a family.

  “It sure smells wonderful in here,” Cleveland exclaimed, appreciatively eyeing the turkey. “My, what a beautiful bird!”

  “Thanks, Poppa.” Lena threw him a knowing grin. “But you’d say that even if I’d just pulled a charred carcass out of the oven.”

  He chuckled, not denying it as he surveyed the array of food covering every available surface of counter space. “Everything looks delicious, baby girl. I can’t wait to eat.”

  Lena could. She hadn’t had an appetite in weeks, and the thought of gorging on all this food made her feel decidedly ill.

  As if he’d read her mind, Cleveland jabbed a finger at her and warned sternly, “Don’t think I’m gonna sit by and let you get away with picking at your food. You’ve been losing too much weight as it is.”

  A rueful smile touched Lena’s mouth. “Remember how Grandma used to ration my portions at Thanksgiving? She used to say to me, ‘Now, baby, you know I’m only doing this for your own good. You have the most beautiful face, but it’d be a shame if folks only saw a chubby girl every time they looked at you.’”

  Cleveland’s expression softened. “You know she meant well. She just didn’t know what to say out of her mouth sometimes, God rest her soul. But she was very proud of you. Used to brag about you all the time.”

  Lena smiled softly. “I know. I never doubted that.”

  “Good,” he said gruffly. “Anyway, don’t change the subject. We were talking about how much weight you’ve lost.”

  “No, you were,” Lena corrected, turning to remove a pot of collard greens from the burner.

  “I’m worried about you, Lena.”

  The gentle concern in his voice made her throat tighten. But she’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry today, or any other time during her grandfather’s stay.

  “Now, you know I don’t like to pry in your personal life—”

  Lena snorted out a laugh. “Since when?”

  Cleveland had the decency to look abashed. “Well, I try not to,” he amended. “But I can’t help it if I worry about you, especially when I have plenty reason to.” His gaze followed her around the kitchen as she bustled about putting the finishing touches on dinner. “What happened between you and that nice young man?”

  “Roderick?” Lena kept her tone neutral. “I thought I told you that I’m not seeing him anymore, Poppa.”

  “You didn’t tell me—your sister did.”

  “Oh. Where is Morgan anyway?” Lena wondered aloud. “I sent her to the corner store to pick up a few things I needed, and that was over an hour ago.”

  “Knowing your sister, she probably took a detour to the shopping mall, or snuck across town to see Isaiah. Things seem to be going pretty well between them. And there you go again, trying to change the subject.”

  “I’m not, Poppa.” Lena lingered in the pantry so she wouldn’t have to lie right to his face. “There’s not much to say about me and Roderick. We hadn’t been, ah, seeing each other for very long. We weren’t that serious.”

  Cleveland grunted. “That’s not the impression I got from him.”

  “With all due respect, Poppa, you only met him once.”

  “Twice, actually.”

  “What?” Lena whirled around in surprise. “When?”

  “He came to see me again a week later. It was Sunday night. I remember because you’d brought me a lemon pound cake earlier that day, and I shared it with Roderick when he stopped by that evening. He couldn’t get enough of it. I told him, ‘Wait till you try her German chocolate cake,’ and he said something about how you’d gotten him to appreciate fudge.”

  Lena blushed from her scalp to her toes.

  “Anyway, he brought two six-packs of beer, which made him very popular with the fellas. They propped me up in bed, and we all sat around playing cards and watching the Bears game.” Cleveland grinned. “Most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

  Lena couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Roderick had paid a visit to her grandfather the day after the whole Glenn fiasco? While she’d spent the day driving herself crazy over whether she would ever see him again, he’d been yukking it up with her grandfather at the retirement home?

  Incredulous, she shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me, Poppa?”

  Cleveland shrugged. “He asked me not to, and given the way you tried to hustle him out of my hospital room, I guess I can understand why he didn’t want you to know. Anyway, that’s when I realized he must be pretty serious about you, baby girl. Why else would he spend a whole evening hanging out with a bunch of old coots at a nursing home?”

  “Why, indeed?” Lena murmured, staring at the bag of flour in her hand as if she couldn’t remember how it had gotten there.

  “So you can understand why I was surprised when your sister told me that you and Roderick broke up.”

  Lena heaved a weary sigh. “We didn’t break up, Poppa. We were never really together to begin with.”

  Cleveland gave her a pointed look. “Is that why you went to Japan with him?”

  She said nothing.

  Cleveland wheeled himself over to the breakfast table, picked up a small plastic plate and began adding items from a fruit and vegetable tray. When Lena hurried over to help him, he waved her off, saying gruffly, “If I can play cards with one arm in a sling, I can damn well fix myself a plate of carrots and celery sticks. Now go on and finish what you were doing so we can eat soon. I’m starving.”

  Swallowing a grin, Lena dutifully returned to her simmering pots on the stove.

  “I was thinking,” Cleveland said casually.

  “Thinking what?”

  “Now that you got that nice promotion at work, maybe you can quit that second job of yours.”

  Lena froz
e for a moment, then spun around and stared at him. “You…you know about that?”

  He met her gaze calmly. “Your sister told me that you got a part-time job to supplement your income so that you could afford the retirement home.”

  Lena scowled. “I’m going to kill her,” she muttered under her breath.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Cleveland said mildly. “I’m glad she told me. I’ve always suspected you were working two jobs to keep me at Lakeview, but every time I tried to ask you, you shot me down. Morgan dodged my questions, too.” He paused. “But not this time. She seems to be under the impression that the long hours you work are interfering with your personal life. Specifically, your relationship with Roderick.”

  “That’s not true,” Lena protested with a vigorous shake of her head. “My—”

  “I want you to take me out of Lakeview Manor.”

  Aghast, Lena stared at him. “But you love it there!”

  “I do,” he calmly agreed. “But I love you more.”

  Tears pricked her eyelids. “Poppa—”

  “I’ve talked to Nurse Jacobs and asked her to look into more affordable retirement facilities for me. She’s familiar with the terrain and has several contacts who can supply good referrals. Another option she suggested is home care assistance. She knows of some affordable providers, and even offered her own services if we’re interested.” He smiled. “She told me to let you know that her rates would be very reasonable.”

  Stunned, Lena shook her head slowly at him. “You’ve really given this a lot of thought, haven’t you?”

  “I have for a while,” Cleveland admitted. “I was just waiting for the right opportunity to discuss it with you.”

  Lena blew out a deep, shaky breath. “This is a lot to consider, Poppa. I need more time to think it over. And I want you to stay at Lakeview until your arm completely heals. Don’t argue with me,” she warned when he opened his mouth to protest. “I’ve already paid the bill for the next six months, so that’s that.”

  His eyes twinkled. “Yes, ma’am.”