Twenty Times Tempted: A Sexy Contemporary Romance Collection

by Petrova, Em

  The back yard wasn’t big. None of them in the neighborhood were. There was enough space for a clothesline and a deck with a fire pit. Zane and Granddad had built the deck years ago. It only sat six inches off the ground, and despite the worn wood, the stain was fresh and the area clean.

  Granddad didn't look up as Zane rounded the corner, but he did fold his newspaper and set it aside. He nodded behind him at the house. “There’s fresh coffee inside, and you know where the mugs are.” He spoke perfect English—it had been part of his KGB training—but hints of his Russian accent had slipped back in, growing stronger over the years.

  “I’m all right. Thank you.” Zane settled into the empty wicker chair a few feet away. He glanced sideways at Granddad. After years of denying it, he was about to follow in Granddad’s footsteps, as predicted. At least maybe he’d age as well, too. Granddad’s hair had grayed, but it was all still there, and while the man had developed a bit of a gut, it was evident from the way he held himself he was still fit and strong.

  Silence settled between them. Zane didn’t know what to say or even why he was here, but he didn’t feel pressure to fill the empty air.

  “Where’s your friend?” Granddad’s quiet words shattered Zane’s attempt at banishing Riley from his thoughts.

  “Gone.”

  “That explains why you look as if she just died. How’d it happen?”

  “What?” It took a few seconds for the statement to sink in. “She’s not dead. She’s probably helping Kenzie with last-minute wedding preparation.”

  Granddad sank back in his chair. “When did you become so melodramatic? Gone. Pft.”

  Zane almost smiled at the familiar jibe wrapped in sympathy. “Sorry about that.”

  “How’s the cushy life treating you?”

  A week ago, he would have said great. Aside from the job search, it was exactly what Zane thought he wanted. Then again, a week ago, he’d been lying to himself. “I’m having trouble adjusting.” He didn’t want to go into details; it had been hard enough recounting it to Riley. Besides, he knew it wasn’t expected, and that even though Granddad never talked about it, he’d done worse as KGB. Maybe that was why Zane was here—to find a basis of comparison. That answer felt too easy, though. Despite his granddad’s past, Zane had nothing but respect for the man. He wasn’t here to compare sins, to make his feel less severe.

  “You’ll get there.” Granddad took a long drink of coffee.

  “I’m wondering if I want to.”

  “Give it time.”

  “No. You were right about me. I’m not a good person. Time doesn’t change that.” Was he seeking some form of absolution? Validation? Zane still didn’t know. “I have an offer with the CIA…”

  “I never should have raised you to be a fucking patriot.” For the first time that morning, more than hints of emotion filled the man’s words. It sounded like disgust mixed with pity. “I thought it would help you fit in, not be stupid.”

  Zane was glad he hadn’t gotten any coffee, because he’d have choked on it. “Excuse me?”

  Granddad finally faced him, the lines on his face looking more distinct and drawn than normal. “I never should have told you the things I did they day you left. I was an old man, sending his boy off to fight for a country I wasn’t sure I believed in.” It wasn’t disgust in his tone, Zane realized. It was regret. “I didn’t want to see it break you, so I told myself and you what I needed to hear, to convince me you couldn’t be broken.”

  Zane’s mind spun with questions.

  “I shouldn’t have done it, but I did.” Granddad turned his gaze toward the morning sky, and his voice trailed off, as if he were speaking to himself. “You’re not a bad kid. In fact, I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

  “I don’t…” Zane couldn’t find a response. He was used to grudging recognition, but not this raw, bold pride.

  “Did your mother ever tell you about your father?” Granddad asked.

  The rapid change in subject might have been a relief and given Zane time to figure out how he felt about the confession, but he didn’t care for the new topic either. “Nothing more than that he left us.” Mom rarely even mentioned the man’s name, and Granddad always clammed up when the topic came up, so Zane learned early on not to ask.

  “Your father was a random asshole your mother hooked up with one summer. Kids are kids, he got her pregnant, and they decided to stay together. I told her she could raise you without him, she insisted they were in love. I didn’t like him, and she tried to convince me it was because he’d taken my baby girl from me.”

  Zane would have smiled at the bit of his past he’d never had a glimpse into before, but there was too much pain in the words.

  “I stopped by their apartment one night, to visit, and she was working. You were in your crib, screaming like no baby should be able to, and that asshole was nowhere to be found. He’d left his six-month-old son alone and gone… I didn’t know where.”

  A combination of disgust and indignation swept through Zane, souring in his chest and temporarily giving his frustration something new to focus on. “Then what?”

  “I changed you, I poured myself a drink, and I sat down to wait. He stumbled in about two hours later, higher than a fucking kite and reeking of vodka. Said you were sleeping, so he just stepped out for a quick drink.”

  Zane wanted to ask what next, but he didn’t want to interrupt.

  Granddad didn’t need the prompting. “I told him he had two choices. He could leave right then. Walk out the door and never come back. Never try to find you. Never reach out to your mother again. Vanish completely from your lives. I even handed him the cash he needed, to leave town.”

  “What was choice number two?”

  “He asked me the same thing.” Granddad’s chuckle held no joy. “I told him he’d vanish either way. He could leave on his own, or no one would see him again, not just the two of you. I wasn’t being facetious. I had the power to make it happen. We did a lot of making people disappear back then, and when it came down to that moment, I didn’t hesitate. There wasn’t a question in my mind I’d do that to him.”

  Zane knew the things Granddad did in Russia were questionable. Not just from history, but from the distant, haunted look the old man got in his eyes when the subject came up. Still, Zane hadn’t expected this. The honesty and reality of it left him feeling raw. Exposed. And at the same time grateful. “I’m glad you made him go.”

  “I’m not.” Granddad shook his head. “I was too, but I’ve doubted myself so many times since. Don’t misunderstand, I was glad he was gone. I regret I didn’t let your mother make the decision herself. It was my job to protect you both, but I never should have taken that choice from her. I wouldn’t have risked you, but she was smart; she would have made the right call. Especially once I told her what I found when I stopped by your home that day. I needed to trust her, and I didn’t.”

  The story spun in Zane’s head, insisting he pay attention. Snarling at him to do more than just stash it as a story about his past. He pushed it aside, unwilling to consider it meant more. “I think you were right. I came out okay because of it.”

  “I’m pretty lucky there. As long as you’re not taking this CIA job for the wrong reasons. Anyway, he would have been gone from your lives regardless, soon enough. Even then, those of us who left the country on a regular basis saw the motherland crumbling, the union falling apart as the Americans bought their way to the forefront of the cold war. I looked at the world around me, the things I’d done, the things about to happen, and I took all of us and bought us into this country.”

  Zane suspected that much, though he was vague on the details. He knew he wasn’t born in the US and it came up when he enlisted, but beyond a mention here and there, it had never caused him any issues.

  Granddad sighed. “I didn’t leave my past behind, though. I conducted terrible acts under banner of country. But I did two things right. I made sure your mother and you made it as far as yo
u did. That doesn’t erase my sins, but it helps me atone for them.”

  Zane knew that feeling more intensely than he wanted to. Except he hadn’t done it in the name of patriotism, he’d done it because it was fun. A challenge. “I don’t think my reasons were as noble as yours.”

  “Would you do it again?”

  “No.” The answer hit Zane hard. Despite the phone call he placed that morning, he couldn’t, and he wouldn’t.

  “Then it’s behind you, and now you live right. You let Riley help. I won’t lay a guilt trip on you about not throwing away what I gave you. It’s your life. But I will be angry if you take it for granted.”

  It wasn’t that simple. Zane didn’t have any illusions about flipping a switch and being okay with what had happened. But he couldn’t find the words to argue. “Yes, Sir.”

  They chatted for a while longer, about random banal things. The weather. Sports. Politics. But Zane couldn’t focus on the conversation. Too many thoughts warred for his attention. When he left, he felt like he had more answers and more questions than ever before.

  He did know one thing, though. He sent Sabrina a quick text as he walked back to his truck.

  My final answer’s no. Don’t ask again. At least that was one right decision.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Mother.” Riley smiled and gave her a polite hug. Nothing too tight that might wrinkle the satin of her mother’s dress or stress her skin.

  Riley relied on every ounce of willpower she had to maintain her composure for Kenzie’s wedding. It had been almost a week since she’d talked to Zane, and despite her resolution to leave him be, not seeing him made her miserable. However, she’d do almost anything for her sister, including smile and nod at each of Mother’s passive-aggressive comments.

  Her mother’s hair—blonde, like her daughters’—was piled on top of her head. She held Riley at arm’s length, gaze raking over her appraisingly. “You look good, hon. Kenzie picked a nice dress for you.”

  Riley clenched her jaw. She gave her mother a tight smile. “Thank you.”

  Mother—Riley and Kenzie weren’t allowed to call her Mom or Sharon or anything else, always Mother—smoothed something on the side of Riley’s head. “You really could have done a better job with your hair.”

  Embarrassment flooded Riley, and she hated the flush rising to her skin. “Sorry.”

  “No one will be watching you anyway.” Mother waved a hand and turned back to the bride.

  Riley sank against a nearby wall, arms crossed over her chest.

  “Don’t slouch, hon.” Her mother never looked up as she moved the flowers woven through Kenzie’s hair a fraction of an inch. “Do I get to meet your date?”

  Riley’s gaze met Kenzie’s in the mirror, and Kenzie gave her an apologetic half-smile. Riley loved her mother dearly, but at times like this, she remembered exactly why she’d gone to live with her father after her parents’ divorce, when she and Kenzie were in their late teens.

  “Riley’s a strong, independent woman,” Kenzie said. “She doesn’t need a date, to attend a wedding.”

  Mother’s sniff said she felt otherwise. She turned her attention back to Riley. “Maybe your sister can hook you up with one of the groom’s guests. He seems like he knows a number of respectable people.”

  Riley bit back her snort, trying to keep her dry amusement off her face. She knew she didn’t completely succeed. “Maybe.” The majority of Scott’s friends made Riley’s look positively uptight by comparison.

  Shaking her head, Mother peeked outside, at the guests streaming into the wedding hall. “At least you didn’t bring one of those boys who treats you like one of them.”

  Riley’s gut clenched at the reminder of Zane and Archer. Mostly of Zane.

  “Mother, will you grab my shoes?” Kenzie asked.

  “Of course, dear.” Mother looked at Riley again. “There’s a handsome young man out there, who looks like he might be military. Maybe your sister can introduce you to him.”

  “I think they’ve met.” Kenzie stood and slipped into her heels, growing by four inches.

  Riley swallowed back the sick feeling. If the reminder of Zane didn’t hurt so much, she might tell Mother that’s who she was talking about. She’d seen him come in, and that he looked incredible in his tux was one thing she agreed with her mother about.

  A knock interrupted the interrogation. “Are you ladies decent?”

  Riley yanked open the door enough to let her father in.

  He threw his arms around her, lifted her in a bear hug, and squeezed her. “Hey, baby.”

  “Daddy.” At least there was some comfort there.

  He started toward Kenzie, pausing when Mother glared at him. Instead of hugging her tight, he settled for a kiss on the cheek. “You both look lovely.”

  The organ music started. Mother extracted herself from the group, shooting one last glare at Riley and her father. “Make sure my baby girl makes it to the altar okay.”

  “It’s a room away, Sharon. They’ll both survive.”

  Mother didn’t look as though she believed him but left to lead the wedding procession.

  Riley grabbed her sister’s hands, looking back at that mirror image. She forced her own grief aside and gave Kenzie a genuine smile. “I’m really happy for you.”

  Kenzie grinned back. “Thanks.”

  Riley squeezed one last time, before letting go, to take her place in line where she’d fall into step next to the best man. “See you on the other side.”

  *** *** *** ***

  Zane found a wall away from everyone and leaned against it. He tilted his head back, studying the ceiling. When he closed his eyes, the afterimage of lights danced with women in taffeta and men dressed like penguins. He sighed and straightened.

  Focusing on the reception again, he let his gaze trip across faces. So many were familiar. He was glad most of them already said their awkward welcome backs, told him he looked good, and moved on. Kenzie and Scott stood at the far end of the room, shaking hands and accepting congratulations. Zane had been near them long enough to know some were sincere and some were obligatory, and that Kenzie kept a quiet but tight leash on them, making sure they all came off sounding the same.

  He knew there were unwritten rules about the bridesmaid not looking as good as the bride, but if it hadn’t been for the subtle but constant cloud of depression hanging over Riley, she would have stolen the night, even though the two women were technically identical. Then again, maybe he was biased.

  Ignoring Riley was destroying him, but he was determined not to break.

  Someone stopped behind her. Archer stood close, hand resting on her arm. She bent her head to his and responded to something he said.

  Zane knocked back the rest of his punch. Time to check out the bar. He pushed away from the wall, looking anywhere but at the wedding line.

  He ordered bourbon, neat, and shuffled back into the crowd. At least at a party this big, it wasn’t too hard to lose himself, except the crowds thinned as the night wore on. Why was he sticking around? Probably because he hadn’t convinced himself not to talk to Riley. Failed to ignore the desire to see if she wanted to hang out… Or more. He glanced back toward where the wedding party had been, but they’d dispersed.

  He almost turned away again, before he caught a glimpse of movement in the dark, several feet back. Unmistakably Riley and Archer, standing near each other, away from anyone else. Talking.

  It was time for him to take off. He spun to leave.

  “Watch out.” A pair of hands clasped his shoulders, jarring him to a stop.

  Fuck. He wasn’t in the mood for this.

  “You know”—Scott nodded at Zane’s untouched drink—“if you don’t want that…”

  Zane shoved the bourbon in his direction. “Help yourself.”

  “Not for me.” Scott tugged Kenzie closer, his arm wrapped around her waist. “I need something to ply the bride with, for our honeymoon.”

  Disgust
crawled through Zane. This guy was worse than he thought.

  Kenzie rolled her eyes, took the drink from him, and set it on a nearby table. “He’s yanking your chain. Give me some credit.”

  “I knew that,” Zane mumbled. “Again, you look beautiful.” He squeezed Kenzie’s fingertips. “Congratulations one last time, before I bolt for the night.”

  “Thanks, and we’re doing the same real soon.” Kenzie pretty much glowed.

  “Handsome, upstanding military man like you, leaving alone?” Scott elbowed him.

  The dig hit exactly the wrong nerve. “Yes.” Zane’s tone was flat.

  “Didn’t mean to imply anything.” Scott held up his hands. “I’ve got a programmer who’s been eying you all night. If he’s more your type…”

  Zane stared at him, irritation kicking into overdrive. “I’m fine, thanks.”

  “He knows exactly who you’ve got your eye on,” Kenzie interjected. “He’s trying to poke holes in who you are and find your weak spots.”

  “I’m… being trolled? Are you six?” Zane shifted his weight and crossed his arms. Though he couldn’t beat the other man when it came to muscle bulk, he had at least a couple inches on him and wanted to make it clear he wasn’t backing down.

  Scott smirked. “Only on my best days.”

  “You have five minutes.” Kenzie kissed Scott on the cheek and melted back into the crowds.

  “Yes, Ma’am.” Scott paced a few feet, his gaze following the crowds, before he turned back to face Zane. “You must be something pretty special.”

  Zane’s gut sank when he realized he was facing Riley again. She wasn’t tucked into the dark corner anymore, but she was still talking to Archer. Her arms were crossed, but they stood close. He needed to leave.

  He forced his attention back to Scott. “I have a feeling this line of conversation is a barrel of chuckles for you, but it’s getting old for me.” Part of Zane knew he was being rude. Most of him didn’t know if it mattered or even if he cared.