by Azod, Shara
Life really sucked sometimes.
“I know I came off wrong yesterday, Rhonnie, and for that I am sincerely sorry.” Pasqual, all wet and contrite, standing in her living room wearing a partially open button-down shirt and slacks, was really bad for her resolve.
A lot of women of mixed race grow up to be simply gorgeous, but with men it was hit or miss. With Pasqual—well, it was a home run. His skin was the color of warm honey, which contrasted with stunning effect with those weird, bluish-green Chevalier eyes. He wore his hair cropped closely to his head, but Rhonda happened to know for a fact when he allowed it to grow it was gloriously curly. Although he was three years older than she, she remembered when he used to wear it longer on the top all through grade school and part of middle school. In her opinion, he looked a lot like his dad, Thierry, only sexier in some mysterious way.
And he’d called her Rhonnie. Other than that one night (which she was not going to think about now), it had been years since he’d called her that.
“Fine.” She gave in. Sometimes she really wished she could be as hard as she tried to project. Fact was, she was a pushover on most days. “Truce, okay? But I have to go. My—my car is acting up, and I have to catch the bus.” The very last thing she wanted to do was admit that. Her house was more than enough fodder, but knowing she didn’t have reliable transportation would only give him more ammunition.
“You have to eat. If you don’t want me to talk to your boss, fine. I get that.” Rubbing his scalp, Pasqual looked around the room, making her cringe.
Yes, her place was pretty shabby, but it was hers, damn it. And yeah, she knew she was going to have to accept help soon for the baby’s sake. But God, she really didn’t want to.
“Rhonnie, you have to know I only want to help. I know it was intrusive to look through your stuff, but there wasn’t much by way of food in your fridge.” How reasonable he sounded, like he really cared. And Rhonda had thought she’d cried all the tears she had last night. She had to fight to hold them back now. “I’m not trying to offend you. I swear I only want what’s best for you and the baby.” Then he went ahead and did it. With one hand, he reached out to caress her growing stomach. Rhonda’s knees almost buckled. “Please, eat something, and I’ll take you to work.”
She was defeated. She knew it. And she’d probably be moving out of the house she’d worked so hard for.
“Fine, but you can’t keep doing this. I’m fine. You’ll have to leave today. Promise me.” She knew he wouldn’t. Still, asking helped her keep the illusion she had the upper hand.
“Sure, sugar. You have a deal.” But that wicked, slow grin promised she might have just made a deal with the devil.
*****
Pasqual really meant his promise. He wouldn’t camp out in Rhonda’s living room anymore, provided she was installed his townhouse. Sitting up most of the night attempting to think of ways to dig himself out of the hole he had gotten himself into, he realized this really wasn’t about Rayce. And, oddly, it had taken Rayce to help him realize it. He had been an unforgivable prick when he had first seen her because he was jealous. He was okay with admitting that now. Even though he had never considered Rhonda seriously in the past, seeing her ripe with child—if people still used arcane terms like that—had made him realize how perfect she was to be a mother. And she was carrying a baby for his cousin.
If Rayce was at all serious about having a real relationship with the mother of his child, he would’ve been here. Pasqual believed Rayce had asked him not only because they were close, but deep down, Rayce probably knew Rhonda was perfect for the man Pasqual was today, even if she hadn’t been for the boy he used to be.
All he had to do now was show her he was worthy of her. It might seem to others he was jumping the gun, but Pasqual never made a move he wasn’t sure of, and he never took long to make up his mind about anything. Maybe it wouldn’t work out between himself and Rhonda, but he really wanted to try. Especially now. She needed support, she need someone to look after her, and most of all she needed someone who would be there for her in every eventuality, every situation. Rayce would care for any child of his own,but he couldn’t give himself to the mother.
Pasqual believed he could.
*****
Pasqual drive back to Rhonda’s after dropping her off. He told her he left his laptop there so he could get her house keys. In truth, he just didn’t want to prolong an argument he had no intention of losing. She was moving out, today. Pasqual set about packing everything that looked as if it might be important to her. He arranged to have the pieces of furniture he was sure had belonged her parents picked up and stored some place safe. He knew very well he was getting ahead of himself. There would undoubtedly be very serious consequences, but that didn’t matter. If Rayce couldn’t take care of her, he sure as shit could.
Once his father had told him he had always known his mother was the perfect woman for him. Pasqual had held what his father had said close to his heart. Never telling anyone, he had longed for that kind of surety of purpose, the kind of woman he could devote his total self to. He might be crazy, but he knew deep down Rhonda was the one for him. Never would he be able to explain this uncharacteristic snap decision about something that would affect not only his life, but Rayce’s and the baby’s as well. But it was the very out-of-the-ordinary reaction to this woman that convinced Pasqual if he didn’t make her his own, raise that child as his own, he would regret it.
Stranger things had happened.
It was going to take some doing. After not seeing Rhonda for years, he had managed to give her the worst impression of who he really was. Surely he could get Rhonda to see he would make perfect husband and father material. The first step was getting her out of this place and into his.
Pasqual had no qualms about what he was doing as he began to pack up all Rhonda’s personal belongings and make arrangements for it all to be moved into his condo. Yes, she was going to be mad at first, but he could make her see this was for the best. If push came to shove, he could make her love him.
*****
The man had surely lost his mind. When she first walked through the front door after a long, hard day, Rhonda thought she’d been robbed. What little was left of her parents’ furniture was gone. Everything was. But Pasqual was there, sitting in a fold-out chair just as calm as you please, studying something on his smartphone. Immediately she knew what had happened. Anger, fast and furious, rose as she stared at him, afraid to speak. Of all the arrogant, presumptuous things to do. After this morning, she had actually believed she would be able to reason with the hard-headed jackass. In fact, she had come home determined to tell him the truth.
No way she was going to tell him anything now. If he thought he had the right to come into her home, camp out like he belonged there, then take it upon himself to move her stuff without her permission, God only knew what he would do if he ever found out whose baby she was really carrying. Let him go to his fucking grave thinking it was Rayce’s. After all this she owed him nothing, damn it. And to invite him deeper into her life would prove dangerous to her peace of mind.
As soon as the latter thought fully formed, Rhonda felt instantly contrite. To think, she counseled girls every day about the same things she was thinking of doing. She had no right to keep Pasqual out of her life. No matter how terrified she was, she was going to have to tell him what happened the night of his sister’s wedding. She’d thought he’d been so cutely protective of his little sister that night. Now, she was beginning to think Pasqual had a serious God complex. As soon as he knew the truth, things like this were going to be the tip of the iceberg.
Shivering, Rhonda decided to push aside all thoughts of revealing anything just now. Before she could take the momentous step of being completely honest with a man she’d spent a night with, but didn’t really know very well, she needed to set some ground rules.
“I have no idea what you did with my things, but I suggest you get on your little phone and get it all
back here. Now.” Proudly, she kept her voice calm and even, but nothing could keep the underlying vibrations of unmitigated pisstivity from coloring her words. “I get you’re trying to help—this just isn’t the way to go about it.”
Yeah, right. Help, her ass. He was trying to take over. As soon as Rayce got back she was going to kill him. Fucking Chevalier know-it-all assholes. That’s what the two of them were. She should have never confided in Rayce. Not that she had much choice. It was like the man was psychic or something, because he’d been sniffing around since her glorious night of debauchery. Almost like he knew this was going to happen.
“I don’t want to argue with you, Rhonnie.” Pasqual sighed, rising from the chair. “And I understand pride, I really do, sweetheart. But I cannot in good conscience allow you to stay here. Not alone and pregnant. Please let me help you. I promise it won’t be so bad.”
The conciliatory tone put her on edge. Not knowing him that well didn’t mean she didn’t know him at all. He was deliberately leaving something out.
“My child and I are none of your concern.” Oh, how those words almost choked her. Bile rose as soon as she spat them at his too-smug face. All too aware she was digging herself in deeper and deeper, Rhonda went for the jugular, determined to get the man out of her home and as far away from her as possible until she was ready to deal with him. “If you weren’t so convinced I was carrying your cousin’s baby, you wouldn’t give two damns about me.”
Tears burned her eyes as she thought of the years she had struggled, alone and lost, after losing her parents. It wasn’t his fault; they hadn’t been friends, and Rayce and Chloe had tried to help, but she pushed everyone away. That didn’t mean she hadn’t been lonely, that she hadn’t been devastated by the upheaval of her entire universe. And she had dealt with it alone. She hadn’t had the family name and prestige this man had been born into. “I don’t remember you around when I had to go sell everything that remained of my parents’ legacy just to be able to afford this place. I sure as hell don’t remember you there when I worked two jobs to pay for the funeral, the remaining bills that were outstanding even after everything was gone. And now I’m supposed to believe this is all about me? For me? Give me a break and get the hell out of my life.”
The dam broke long before she finished her little tirade. There weren’t streams of tears flowing from her eyes, it was a deluge. Shaking, she just didn’t have the energy to push him away when instead of being offended as she’d intended, he wrapped her in an embrace that stole her resolve to be an über-bitch. How long had it been since someone had just held her? She didn’t date, hadn’t really allowed anyone to get very close. She’d built a fortress around herself and hadn’t allowed close human contact in years. Pasqual’s simple acceptance of her anger, her hurt, her fear was too tempting to turn away. Hell, she didn’t know if she knew how to rebuff him at this point. She’d given it her best shot and instead of turning him off, she’d managed to make herself a hell of a lot more vulnerable.
How the hell was she supposed to get rid of him now?
Chapter Seven
“I’m going to get married.”
Thereze Chevalier-Müeller leaned back in the large leather chair, leveling one of her eerie, unblinking stares directly at him. Not many things put Pasqual on edge. Unfortunately for him, Thereze was one of the few. The CEO of LeBlanc, Inc. had summoned him to her office specifically because he’d been working from home for the past three weeks. Once he had Rhonda safely installed in his home, he just didn’t want to leave her. Even when she went to work every day—despite his desires, but he could wait on that front—he stayed at her beck and call; dropping her off, picking her up, taking her to lunch, even going to her doctor’s appointment with her. He was on a mission—there wasn’t time to go into work every day.
“I have made sure everything I’m working on is complete and on time. As long as the work gets done, I don’t need to be here every day.” Pasqual was aware he was damn near growling at his cousin, but she seriously needed to lay off the scary boss vibe thing. And she only did it with family members. Thereze had a hard and fast rule that just because you carried the Chevalier name, it didn’t make you entitled at the company.
Thereze was not amused. He could see that, and he understood it, even agreed. The thing was, Rhonda had become more important to him than his job. Whereas at one time, proving himself as the company CFO had meant everything to him, nowadays the only person he wanted to prove himself to was Rhonda. His family would always love and accept him no matter what. It was truly a blessing to grow up in such a loving if overly large fold. But Rhonda needed him, even if she didn’t think she did.
It was hard to believe it had all started out as a so-called favor to Rayce. The fact his cousin rarely came to mind anymore made him feel a little bit guilty, but Rhonda kept insisting she wasn’t carrying Rayce’s child. It was so easy to pretend it was his baby nestled in Rhonda’s belly. Right now, however, Thereze was not going to settle for anything less than the truth. it wasn’t that he didn’t want anyone to know what he was up to; he just wanted time to seal his relationship with Rhonda before springing her or the situation on the clan. They could all be insufferable busybodies. Himself excluded, of course.
“I fail to see what getting married has to do with your job.” Just as he suspected. Not amused. “And I fail to understand what you don’t understand about setting an example.”
“Fine. Fire me.” As intimidating as Thereze was, he wasn’t going to spill the beans on something that was none of her business. Yet another snap decision from a person who never, ever made a move without careful deliberation.
“Excuse me?” Thereze arched a single brow, staring at him like he had completely lost his mind.
Maybe he had. He was facing down Thereze the terrible.
“Fire me. I’m not going to be in for a little while. I have something personal going on. I’m not going to explain it to you because it’s none of your business.” Since there was no point in standing in front of her desk like an errant child, Pasqual settled into one of the two smaller leather seats. Thereze was still intimidating. Her face only showed a vague surprise, but was otherwise devoid of any indicators as to what she may be thinking. Growing up, she and her twin and Chloe had tortured him, tormented him, and constantly made him feel as if they were his junior mothers. He’d allowed each of them to carry that into adulthood, but he couldn’t allow it any longer. If he was going to be a husband and a father, and he was, the only one he was answerable to was Rhonda.
Wow, it was amazing how hard he’d fallen in such a small amount of time. Although he couldn’t figure out for the life of him why she wouldn’t just tell him Rayce was the father of her child, Rhonda was the most honest, earnest, naturally beautiful woman he had ever met. Everything about her screamed poise and class. She made him want to be a better man. And he would—for her.
“I wonder if Rhonda knows what a hell of a man she’s getting.” Thereze suddenly grinned, transforming her face into the visage of a woman much younger than her thirty-six years. Too bad Pasqual was too stunned by her words to give her smile more than cursory notice.
“Excuse me?” He couldn’t have just heard her right. Rayce wouldn’t have said a word to Thereze, not when he’d been the one to get Rhonda pregnant. So how did she know? It wasn’t as if he and Rhonda were hitting the town every night. Rhonda never wanted to go anywhere.
“Rhonda MacDaniels. About six months pregnant, right? Currently living in that overpriced place you call home on Bourbon Street? Daughter of the deceased Marla and Augustine MacDaniels, who died when she was twenty-two, their fortune supposedly gone with a series of bad investments. Currently working as a counselor for at-risk teen girls? I can go on—”
“I just bet you could.” And that was the scary Thereze he knew and loved. Something told him there was a possibility she knew more about Rhonda than he did. It was damned unsettling. “Care to tell me how you know all that?”
“In that neighborhood?” Pasqual was incredulous. To say the area was shady was being generous. Just thinking of how long she’d had to live there, alone and unprotected, still sent waves of anger crashing through him. Oh, he could pretend for Rhonda’s sake, but not for anyone else.
“She didn’t want help, Pasqual. She thought she could do it all on her own.” Thereze shook her head, visibly sad but resolute. “Had she known what was done to make sure she didn’t starve, she would’ve rejected it all. That was not an option. And I don’t recall your concern at the time.”
Anger was quickly replaced by equally heated embarrassment. The ugly truth was he hadn’t given it much thought. He’d believed—assumed—Rhonda had been taken care of despite her family’s misfortunes.
“Thank you, Ther.” Nothing more he could really say. But he could make certain Rhonda never wanted or needed for anything ever again.
“It was Chloe who brought her to my attention.” By the look Thereze was now giving him, he knew there was more. “And Rayce. In fact, Rayce downright insisted something be done. He was the one who arranged for R.J. to have squad cars constantly in the neighborhood, specifically cruising her street. She’s always been safer than she knew.”
Rayce.
Fuck.
Maybe Rhonda meant a hell of a lot more to his cousin than Pasqual believed. By planning to take her for his own, he wasn’t just stabbing his cousin in the back, he was betraying his best friend.