He regarded her with an unspeakable hunger.
One that spoke its own language…
Was it true, she mulled, heart racing.
Was he as drunk with her as she was him?
And did he really miss her while he was away?
A dangerous look flared in his green orbs and with a careful slowness, they slid over her body, from head to toe. The naked heat spread throughout her, and the chemistry was so palpable between them, she pondered who’d break first.
“I take it that you’re enjoying the place, then,” he whispered, breaking the spell first, and looked away from her. He gave a half-smile. “I knew that it’d suit you well, you and this place were destined.”
Like us, she thought silently, blushing.
But instead, she said, “I’ll get us some coffee. How do you take yours?”
Already, he was taking a seat on the loveseat. “Straight black,” he said, yanking the necktie off completely and tossed it aside. Then, he settled against the cushions with a deep sigh. “No cream or sugar.”
After igniting the glass flames, she placed the kettle on the stove. Moving to the cupboard, she fished out two matching white cups. In hers, she put a healthy dose of sugar and cream.
“I can see that you’re aiming to be the spokesperson for a diabetes campaign with all that sugar you’re heaping in your cup,” he scolded. “You put in at least six spoonfuls, not counting the cream.”
“You drink your coffee your way, and I’ll drink mine my way,” she said testily, turning as the kettle began a steady whistle, and lifted it from the stove. With perfect precision, she poured the boiling water into both cups and then proceeded to cross the room. After reaching him, she passed his cup to him before settling on the loveseat beside him. “Now, tell me how your business trip went.”
“Let’s just say that it happened,” he admitted with another tired sigh, cradling the cup in his hand. “The fact that I’m dealing with some nefarious creatures doesn’t help matters.”
“That bad, huh?” she mulled thoughtfully. “Doesn’t sound like the kind of people to do business with.”
“Trust me, I learned that about them the hard way,” he said truthfully, staring in the coffee cup. “And I’ve been paying one helluva price since then. I’m making it a point to drive them out of business.” The bitterness laced his tone. “Those bastards won’t have one red penny left to spend once I’m done with them.”
“Ouch, remind me not to get on your bad side,” she teased, but then sobered at his serious look. She laid a comforting hand on his. “Listen, I don’t know anything about business. But, anytime that you want to vent, I’m here, okay?”
He gave her a long look. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” she asked, puzzled, sipping her coffee, and watched him over the cup’s rim.
“There aren’t too many people that interested in what I have to say,” he shrugged, turning away, and pulled free from her innocent hold to her disappointment. “So, I’m surprised when someone does.”
“I’m in your corner, Jarrod. Always have been, always will be,” she said softly, placing the cup on the table, and settled against the pillows. “Being CEO of a major international corporation can’t be easy.”
“It sure in the hell isn’t,” he admitted easily. “In the imports and exports world, handling international trade deals can be somewhat tricky and dangerous.”
“I suppose so,” she nodded in concentration. “Although I’ve worked closely with you and typed up reports, I still don’t have an understanding of what it entails.”
“And I don’t want to bore you with the mundane details either,” he chided, watching her closely. “Enough about me. Show me these paintings that you’ve been working on for weeks. I’m sure that they’re pure masterpieces.”
She flushed a hot red. “U-uh, they’re not ready yet and are still in the preliminary stages. I have some finishing touches left,” she stammered uncomfortably. “When they’re ready, you’ll be the first to see them.”
How could she ever admit that the name of her collection was Falling for You with him being the subject? That she’d captured his stolen moments in time, both guarded and unguarded---the pure essence of Jarrod Sabatino…
Blushing further, she avoided his keen gaze.
Jarrod regarded her thoughtfully. “It’s okay, Olivia. I know that it’s been a long time since you’ve painted and that you’re worried about the quality of your work. But, if they’re anything like before, they’re damned good.” He sighed. “I’m not going to push you. When you’re ready to share your work, just let me know.”
As his gaze settled on her, she warmed under his deep perusal.
For certain, she loved the way he looked at her.
The seconds passed, and still, he said nothing.
“What is it?” she asked, breaking the silence.
“Nothing,” he shrugged, watching her as he leaned against the cushions. Then, reaching out, he caressed the side of her face with a finger. “Can’t it just be that, Olivia, and nothing more?”
She flushed again. “O-oh, okay.”
As his eyes ran over, she trembled.
“You’re cold,” Jarrod said matter-of-factly, already shrugging out of his jacket. Before she could protest, he was covering her with it. At once, the smell of his cologne enveloped her and she inhaled a fast whiff.
Had she made it to paradise, she thought, shivering in response.
“Come here,” he said huskily, pulling her closer, and adjusted the jacket snuggly around her. “You’re shaking all over. Do we need to start a fire?”
“No,” she said shyly, laying her head against his shoulder, and to her relief, he didn’t pull away.
With a deep sigh, closing her eyes, she snuggled against him, allowing herself to relax against his warm body. For the longest, they sat there that way, and moments later, she heard a soft snore at her ear. Being careful not to awaken him, she pulled back, and for the longest moments, she just watched him.
“My poor baby,” she whispered, laying a soft hand against his cheek. “Just rest.”
Lifting his strong arm, she draped it around her before snuggling against his chest. As she did, he murmured something in his sleep and nestled closer to her.
She closed her eyes tight.
Finally, he was in her arms where he was supposed to be…
***
"Care for one more cup of tea, Livvy?” Meghan asked, a few days later, holding the teacup in her tiny hands, giving her best impression of a regal individual. “I have plenty.”
“Uh, darling, no,” Olivia said primly, shaking her head, playing along. “I’ve had more than enough, thank you, Miss Meghan.”
And she had, she thought silently, sitting cross-legged on the floor in Meghan’s bedroom, surrounded by the brightly dressed dolls at the tiny play tea table. After her fifth cup of colored water, she’d had more than enough.
She smiled to herself.
This was her home---her life.
They were her family.
Her thoughts strayed.
But, since the few nights ago at the bungalow, Jarrod kept his distance from her. When they’d awakened in each other’s arms, neither of them had been sure of how to react. So, they’d disentangled themselves in mutual silence, and he’d departed.
Still, the very feel of him being against her lingered, she thought, blushing. Every part of him was etched deeply in her soul. And while she was eager, maybe it was a good thing that they weren’t rushing things, she surmised, frowning in concentration. Maybe then, he’d accept that their feelings were real.
But, still, they were at square one.
She’d accepted the truth, though.
She loved him now more than ever.
A part of her realized that she always had, even if her mind was a blank slate where her past was concerned.
Forcing a smile, she turned her attention away from the startling th
ought.
“Very well,” Meghan said in her childlike voice, and she was more than precious as she was dressed in her father’s over-sized shirt complete with a string of costume pearls. “We’ll have the main curse, then.”
“Main course,” she stressed, tapping the girl’s chin playfully as she sat down across from her. “And what are you offering today, dear Meghan? Caviar, salmon, torte---”
“Chocolate chips, silly! I don’t know about any of that stuff that grown ups make,” the little girl giggled. “Livvy, you are so funny.”
“And so are you,” she laughed, taking a huge bite after grabbing a cookie from the plate. “Ummm…these are delicious.”
Meghan gave her a beaming smile. “I knew that you’d like them!”
“What do you think? Haven’t we gotten to know one another pretty well?”
“And I like you this much!” Meghan squealed, spreading her arms wide. “More than the size of this big room.”
“I like you that much, too,” she said, blinking back tears, taken aback by how much she really did love her. She wiggled her finger playfully. “Only one thing, kiddo. We can only have one cookie---or maybe, two. You know your father’s rule about having too many sweets.”
“Yeah, Daddy’s probably gonna get you for giving me this one,” Meghan nodded, biting into her second cookie. “This time, you’re gonna be in big trouble.”
She laughed. “I guess so.”
“Daddy’s happy again,” the little girl said, grabbing a doll off the floor. “He’s been happy since you’ve been here.”
The surprise filled her. “Really? What makes you say that?”
“When I see him, he’s smiling more.”
“I’m sure that it has more to do with you than it does me,” she stated firmly. “He loves you more than anything, I’m sure.”
“Oh, I know Daddy loves me. He tells me all the time, and he gives the best hugs in the world. Anything that I want, he lets me have it. Well, except for a lot of candy,” the girl said thoughtfully, her eyes rounded. “He said that too much will make me have cavities, and I don’t want any cavities. The kids at school---they say it hurts when you have a cavity.”
“And that’s why we’re stopping at two of these,” she suggested, taking the third cookie away from her. “If I let you have another one, I’m really going to get it.”
Disappointed, Meghan sighed. “Alright, I won’t eat another one.” The little girl stared at her. “Daddy says that you’re getting over being really sick. What’s wrong with you?”
She hesitated. “I was in a really bad accident, and it was so bad that I’m having trouble remembering things.”
“Can’t remember? Like what?” Meghan asked innocently. “What can’t you remember, Livvy?”
“That’s not important,” she said, not wanting to burden the child with the unwelcomed truth. “What’s important that I’m here now, and I’m here with you and your daddy.”
“And Daddy’s glad you’re here, too, just like me,” Meghan said, staring at her hard. “I want you to be with my Daddy.”
Her face flamed red. “W-well, Meghan, I think that---”
“When you’re not looking, Daddy’s always staring at you,” Meghan whispered, leaning close to the table. “Don’t tell him, or he might get barrassed.”
“Embarrassed,” she corrected her, flushing herself.
Meghan screwed up her face. “And he gets that funny look on his face when he does that, too.”
Intrigued, she asked. “Look? What kind?”
Covering her mouth with her hands, Meghan giggled. “You know that look when the prince is getting ready to kiss the princess. That’s the kind!” Then, she pointed at her. “And you get it, too!”
Giving an uncomfortable laugh, she grabbed the teacup from the table. Not even caring that it was warm and distasteful, she downed it.
Was her attraction for her mysterious fiancé that transparent?
“Got any left for me?”
Starting, she nearly capsized the tiny table.
Face reddened, she turned to find Jarrod standing in the doorway. Now dressed in khaki shorts and a light blue Henley top, he seemed relaxed as he poised in the door.
“Daddy!” Meghan squealed, jumping up, and then ran to him.
His lips curled in a smile. “How’s my favorite girl?” he asked, sweeping her up in his arms. Winking, he tapped her chin playfully. “Did I miss the party?”
“Yes, Daddy, you were late---that’s why you missed it,” Meghan whined before a wide smile beamed across her face. “But, the party’s not over.”
Smiling, watching them, Olivia stayed silent as father and daughter made their exchange. There was just something so special about them, she mulled, picking a doll from the floor.
And if she’d had a father, would he have loved her just as much?
Hugging the doll to her, she turned her attention back to them. Over Meghan’s head, their gazes clashed, and again, she struggled against the feelings stirring within her.
“How do you and Meghan feel about going to the mainland for awhile?” he asked, studying her closely. “I’m dropping Rosa off, and then, heading to the market to pick up some things.”
Meghan clapped her hands together excitedly. “Yay! Daddy’s going to be captain, and we’re going to Canyon Islands!”
“Yes, I’d love to go,” she nodded, then, looked down at her haltered dress. It resembled one that an islander would rare. Bright pink and red floral, thin, a flowing comfortable style, and it reached her bare feet.
“Just give me a few minutes and I’ll change---”
His tone was deep and husky. “There’s no need for that. You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she said, blushing, and stood. “I’m going to grab my shoes.”
“You may want to pack a few things in case there’s an emergency or we get tied up or something,” he replied, staring at her thoughtfully.
“Ok,” she nodded.
Watching them, Megan covered her mouth with her hands before giggling. Then, she addressed her. “I told you that Daddy had that funny look. He’s doing it right now.”
“Are we leaving now?” she asked hurriedly, trying to throw him off Meghan’s statement.
Jarrod placed a squirming Meghan on the floor. He nodded, “We leave in about ten minutes. Rosa and I will be waiting for the both of you at the dock.”
Nodding, giving her a final look, he strode away.
When he was out of earshot, she squatted down. “Come on, let’s get you out of this,” she murmured, pulling the over-sized shirt off of Meghan. “And then, we’ll join them.”
“Why do grown ups get ‘barrassed when they like each other?” Meghan pondered, grabbing up a doll after the shirt had been taken off. She shook her head in amazement. “That’s nothing to be ‘barassed about. Princesses never get ‘barassed cause they like the princes.”
She pressed her lips together firmly. “Sometimes we, grownups, are just like kids, and we don’t want to talk about stuff. And in that moment, like you said, your father and I were embarrassed,” she said, tapping her nose. “Now, come on.”
Moments later, when they departed the house, she was taken back by the beauty of the home. Cropping up like a majestic temple, the white villa-style mansion was a sight to behold. Together, she and Meghan strode for the dock. A smiling Rosa waved at them from the motor yacht as they approached. The waves lapped against the motor yacht as it rocked to and fro.
When Jarrod noticed their approach, he hurried across the boat’s deck. “Come here, squirt,” he teased, grabbing hold of Meghan as he hauled her from her arms, and when he was sure that she was safely on, he extended his hand to her, “Here, let me help you.”
As his large hand closed around hers, she lost her breath.
Under the sunlight, his green eyes seemed like the deep green sea, and within them so many emotions swirled. Within them, she saw her own torment and need to embrace the deep hung
er.
Breathless, she said nothing as she stepped onto the deck, and he released her immediately before hurrying back to the helm.
“Come on, Livvy!” Meghan said impatiently, tugging on her hand. “Rosa’s making all my favorites!”
“Ok, lead the way,” she smiled, following behind her, and then they took the steps leading below deck.
A few seconds later, they were in the salon.
Her gaze traveled around.
Impressive in size and impeccable in structure, the motor yacht was well adorned. A plush white sectional sofa introduced the fine palette, and the flat screen satellite TV was an added accessory. The pair of sleek modern lamps sat on the matching side tables, and a metallic coffee table rested before the sofa. An oblong dinette table that seated eight added to the décor.
Ahead of the salon, the galley stretched out. Containing upscale stainless steel appliances and mahogany wood cabinetry, the space was even more impressive. The matching round stools were lined before the counter and a flora arrangement of gardenias and roses stood at its center. A nook stood at the far corner, complete with the dressings. Just ahead, a door was opened partially, evidently the master stateroom and head, she mulled, noticing the full sized bed. As her gaze swung around, she noticed an additional door which probably led to the guest staterooms.
“Ms. Lange,” Rosa smiled, stepping to the counter. “Would you care for carne azada?” The woman held out the plate laden with flour tortillas, steak, tomatoes, lettuce, and other garnishments. “I’m assuming that you like food of the Spanish culture.”
“Of course, I’d love some. It smells delicious.”
Rosa’s smile was kind. “Then, chica, take a seat along with Meggie.”
A joyful Meghan already had her mouth stuffed full when she joined her at the counter. And then, she was closing her eyes in contentment as she devoured the Spanish dish.
And after they finished, Rosa hummed under her breath softly as she cleaned, and Meghan was chattering incessantly as she followed in the woman’s wake.
She glanced around the salon.
A pile of magazines rested on the side table. Bored, she grabbed one before flipping it open, but after thumbing through it, she realized that it was useless. Standing, she looked at Rosa and Meghan again, and as she suspected, they were still heavily preoccupied and enjoying one another’s company.
The Pawn (Shattered Series Book 1) Page 19