He closed his eyes a moment, thinking of her alone, bleeding. Trembling with emotion, he could feel her terror and bewilderment. He’d wanted to hate her for running away without telling him, for the years of guilt she’d left him with, for cutting him out, not trusting that he’d believe in her. For the guilt he felt even now. Yet overriding it all was horror for what she’d endured, her stepfather’s touch, the months she’d spent alone. And admiration for the woman she’d become. On the plane trip home, he’d actually experienced the wonder of imagining her rounded with child. His child. In the end, though, with all his musings, guilt, and anger, he realized the pointlessness of it all. If she’d stayed, he wouldn’t have his girls, and he couldn’t trade them for a life with her any more than she could give up Courtesans.
“Please tell me how we can work this out,” she said softly. The here and now. That was what they had. “I can take anything except thinking about you fucking another man while I’m out of town.”
Her eyes seemed to get bluer as she gazed at him. “I don’t need that.”
“Yes, you do.” He rose, skirted the desk, tipped her chin with his finger. “Tell me how long you’d last without touching another man.”
She clasped his hand, held his palm to her cheek. “The question is how long I’d last without touching you. I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you play football in high school. When I knew I was going to have a baby and it wasn’t yours and I thought you’d never be able to forget or get over it, I wanted to die.” She closed her eyes briefly. “But you came back. I’ve had thirty years to get other men out of my system. Now there’s only you.” She dropped her voice to less than a whisper, a mere feathering of words across her lips. “You’re the one, Royce. You always were.”
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Royce went down on his knee beside her. “Here’s how we can work it out.”
He kissed her fingertips. “Courtesans is your business. My family doesn’t need to know what you do. With the girls at college, I can just as easily make my base in San Francisco. But you will meet them. You will meet my parents. I’m not going to hide you as if I’m ashamed of you.”
Royce wiped a tear from beneath her eye with his thumb. “Hey, you never cry.”
“You’ve just never seen me.” Isabel couldn’t help it. She wasn’t a crier, but then, she’d never before gotten everything in the world that she desired. “I want to meet your girls. I can only imagine they must be the most perfect little creatures with you as their dad.”
He laughed. “They’re not little, and they’re not perfect. But you’re going to love them.”
She put a hand to his cheek. “I love you.”
“I never stopped loving you,” he said. “Both of us need to let go of the past. It’s only important because it made us who we are. This is a new beginning that’s not rooted in what we had. No expectations.”
She had no words. Instead she kissed him until her heart wanted to burst. God, how she’d missed his kiss.
Royce pulled back. “I’ve been thinking”—he rubbed his nose to hers, then put his lips to her ear—“that what we did with Noelle and Dax was pretty damn fun.”
She pulled back to look at him. “It was?”
His eyes sparked. “Fuck yes.”
She laughed, the first laugh she’d truly felt in days. He sounded so like Dax that night. “And?”
“We shouldn’t limit our options.”
She smiled at him, trailing her thumb along his bottom lip. “Where you’re concerned, I have no limits.”
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jasmine Haynes has been penning stories for as long as she’s been able to write. With a bachelor’s degree in accounting from Cal Poly San Luis Obispo, she’s worked in the high-tech Silicon Valley for the last twenty years and hasn’t met a boring accountant yet! Well, maybe a few. She and her husband live with Star, the mighty moose-hunting dog (if she weren’t afraid of her own shadow) plus numerous wild cats (who have discovered that food from a bowl is easier than slaying gophers for their dinner). Jasmine’s pastimes, when not writing her heart out, are speed-walking in the Redwoods, watching classic movies, and brainstorming with writer friends in coffee shops. Jasmine also writes as Jennifer Skully and JB Skully. Please visit her at www.jasminehaynes.com and www.jasminehaynes.blogspot.com. She loves to hear from readers.
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