Harlequin Kimani Romance January 2018 Box Set

by Reese Ryan

  He shook his head. “Nothing.”

  “What?” she repeated, adding a hint of bass to her voice as if it would force this rugged man to yield to her demand for information.

  “You’re delaying the inevitable, Tressa,” he said plainly.

  Delaying the inevitable? Inwardly, she sighed. Of course, they were back on the engagement party again. “I’m not delaying anything, Roth. I’m—”

  “Running?”

  Tressa shot him a narrow-eyed gaze. “Excuse me?”

  He flashed his palm. “You know what? It’s none of my business.”

  “You’re right. It’s not any of your business. So please stick to designing airplanes and refrain from trying to analyze me.” She rolled her eyes and stalked off. Running? Ha. The nerve of him to make such an outlandish assessment simply because she wanted to enjoy the beauty of the mountains. Just like a damn man.

  Running.

  She wasn’t running from anything. She planned to face her situation head-on, but not until she was ready.

  A few steps from Roth’s SUV the lights blinked twice, letting her know he’d unlocked the vehicle. Yanking the door open, she hurled herself inside. A second later the doors locked and Roth activated the auto-start feature. It wasn’t long before warm air blew through the vents, and she closed them in protest, then laughed at herself. The only one who would suffer if she froze to death would be her.

  Why was Roth so damn considerate? Why was he being so damn nice to her? It made it that much harder to be angry at him. And why was she so annoyed with him anyway?

  Because he’s right. She was running.

  She’d ignored every phone call, text message, email and IM Cyrus had sent her. But she didn’t have to explain herself to anyone. If she wanted to refrain from adulting for a while, it was her choice. No one else’s. She glared toward The General Store. Not even to the man who’d altered his life for her.

  Tressa closed her eyes and allowed her head to ease back. Pressing two fingers against her temple, she attempted to knead the pain away. What was going on with her? She was usually more in control than this, a warrior. Now she simply felt like a battered peasant.

  She chastised herself for not at least grabbing a piece or two before storming out of the store. Now she would have to wear the same outfit the entire weekend. Well, it served her right for being so juvenile.

  Time ticked by. Why hadn’t Roth emerged yet? Was he waiting for her to return? Recalling how she’d reacted filled her with regret. He clearly had her best interest at heart and had told her what she needed to hear, whether she wanted to hear it or not. Wasn’t that what friends did for each other?

  Friends? Could she even classify them as friends? Acquaintances probably worked better. How about potential cuddle buddies? This made her laugh.

  Roth finally exited the store, carrying several overstuffed bags. When he opened the back door, a gust of cold air rushed in. He unloaded his haul, then slid behind the wheel.

  “I grabbed you a few things,” he said.

  Grabbed her a few things? “You don’t know my size.”

  “Twelve.”

  Or maybe he did. She tossed a glance in the back seat. A few things? It looked as if he’d outfitted her for the entire month. Even after she’d treated him like crap, he’d still looked after her. Who was this man? “Thank you,” she said in a low, yielding tone. “I’ll pay you back.”

  “That’s not necessary.” He sighed. “When you stormed off, I had to make an executive decision about what to get. You probably won’t be runway ready, but you’ll be warm.”

  God, she felt horrible about how she’d acted. “Roth—”

  “If you’re going to apologize, don’t. I was out of line. You’re a grown woman. You don’t need me to hold your hand.”

  Maybe she did. Maybe that was exactly what she needed. For someone to simply hold her hand.

  “I have this overwhelming need to protect you,” Roth said.

  The words almost seemed painful for him to admit. Had she just got a glimpse at a vulnerable Roth Lexington? The flash of weakness was endearing. Her lips twitched, but she didn’t want to smile. Just like him, she needed to play it cool. But the fact that he wanted to protect her melted her heart into a big, messy puddle. No man had ever said anything like that to her. How did she respond?

  Roth continued, “Big brother instinct. At least that’s what my foster brothers would call it.” Roth blew out another breath. “I should be the one apologizing. From this point forward, I will mind my own damn business. You have my word.”

  Big brother instinct? Was he suggesting he saw her as a kid sister?

  Hell, no. No man would look at a sibling the way he looked at her.

  “Still, I overreacted. You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry.”

  Roth studied her for a moment before he spoke. “I accept.”

  They fell into comfortable silence, staring at one another in their way. She needed to give this thing they did a name. Something with fire in it, because every time they latched onto one another in one of these passion-swirling stare downs, flames burned through her as hot as lava.

  Before she was completely consumed, she searched for something monumental to say, something that would convey her sentiment, a line that would reveal some things, but conceal others. Unfortunately, her brain was fried.

  CHAPTER 5

  Roth stood staring out at Silver Point in the distance, recalling the conversation he’d had with Tressa that morning outside the general store. He’d given her too much. Why in the hell had he told her about his need to protect her? Way too much. But what he’d seen in her eyes suggested it’d been just enough. For her, at least.

  Why did this damn woman leave him feeling so exposed?

  Tressa’s reflections danced in the glass as she moved down the stairs. He wanted her in the worst way. There was truly no more denying that.

  Tressa stood at the door alongside Roth. “God, this view is amazing. You can see the entire town below.” When he didn’t respond, Tressa glanced up at him. “Hey, are you okay?”

  He flashed a low-wattage smile. “Sorry. I drifted off.”

  They shared a laugh at their inside joke.

  “So, what do we have planned for this gorgeous Saturday afternoon? Now that I have clothes that fit—perfectly, I might add—I’m down for whatever.”

  “Whatever, huh?” That was a risky statement.

  “Yep,” she said with confidence.

  “Well, let’s get out of here, then.” He had the perfect outing. And the more time they spent out, the less time he’d spend daydreaming about being in her.

  Twenty minutes later they entered the Blue Ridge Parkway. The drive along this stretch was stunning, even with the leafless trees and absence of color. Hands down, fall was Roth’s favorite time of year here with the vibrant reds, yellows and oranges.

  Taking a quick detour, he veered off to the Grandview Overlook. Tressa stood staring out at the miles and miles of rolling mountaintops, clouds swooping low as if they were there to welcome the formations into heaven.

  “If I’d known how beautiful it is here, I’d have come a long time ago,” Tressa said.

  While Tressa took in every inch of the scene surrounding them, he took in every inch of her. Everything about her was so delicate, yet alluded strength. Definitely strong willed. He laughed to himself. It took a helluva woman to have gone through what she had and still be able to smile as bright as the sun. He admired that about her. That resilience. It was attractive as hell.

  “Come on,” he said, leading her back to the SUV. “If you liked that view, you’ll love where we’re headed next.”

  The road leading to the top of Grandfather Mountain was narrow, winding and steep. When they made it to the top, Tressa blew
out a sigh of relief. He remembered his first time taking the trip and understood her reaction. “What’s wrong?”

  Tressa rested her hand over her heart. “A couple of times I thought we’d topple over the edge. Especially when another vehicle was coming from the opposite direction. I feel like I should get out and kiss the ground.”

  “You were never in any danger.” He glanced into those tender eyes. Turn away, man. Turn away. Tressa’s eyes were like puddles of brown desire that chipped away at the fortress around his heart every time he peered into them. At this rate she’d reach his center in no time. That troubled him. His heart was off-limits. Even to Tressa.

  Exiting the vehicle, they stood in the parking lot for a moment, appreciating the view.

  “Those houses look like they’re sitting right on the edge of the mountain. One bump and boom, they’re tumbling to the bottom.” She leaned forward as if to gauge exactly how far they were from the bottom. A ways.

  Roth decided to not mention the fact that if she looked up from town, his cabin would appear the same way.

  When they finally made their way to one of the mountain’s main attractions—the Mile High Swinging Bridge—Tressa mounted a protest. “No way, no how are you getting me on that.” She jammed a finger at the metal structure. A passing couple laughed and she shot death rays at the backs of their heads.

  “Trust me. It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said.

  “No, it’s probably worse. I don’t do bridges. Not since—”

  Her abrupt stop made Roth curious about what she was holding back.

  “I don’t do them, and no way in hell would I ever do a swinging bridge. Swinging, Roth. That means it moves, right?”

  “Yes, but—”

  She tossed her hands up. “No way. No how. Let’s go.”

  When she tried to walk away, Roth hooked her by the waist. It was faint, but he swore Tressa moaned. Or maybe it’d been him. Damn, he hoped it hadn’t been him. But it was possible. Touching her always triggered something in him. He willed himself to let go, but his arm didn’t budge. “Baby, you can’t—” He stopped abruptly. Shit. Had he really just called her baby? Releasing her, he took a step away.

  Tressa turned to face him, a look of uncertainty in her gaze. Clearly, he’d spooked her with the accidental use of the term of endearment.

  Clearing his throat, he started again, this time dropping baby. “Um…you can’t come all the way to Grandfather Mountain and not cross the bridge. It’s…sacrilegious.”

  Tressa studied him. “Okay. I’ll do it, but on one condition.”

  “Name it.” Because, really, how bad could it be?

  “We stay in Silver Point the entire week.”

  Real bad. What she considered a condition, he considered a blessing. However…there were forces greater than him at work here, and those forces suggested he not tempt fate any more than he already had.

  “I know you think I’m running, Roth. I’m not. It’s just that being here with…” Her eyes moved away briefly. “I feel at peace in Silver Point. I haven’t felt this way in a long, long time.” Her lips curled slightly. “And I kinda like it and selfishly want more.”

  How in the hell could he argue with that? “Okay.”

  “Really?”

  Like him, she obviously couldn’t believe his answer, either. He nodded.

  “Good. Well, then…let’s do this.” Tressa stopped shy of taking the first step onto the bridge. “And you have to hold my hand.”

  This was getting worse and better by the second. He splayed his gloved fingers and Tressa locked hers with his. It was a damn good thing there was a barrier between their hands. From experience, he knew their current would have surely fried everyone on the bridge.

  Tressa’s grip on his hand tightened when the bridge swayed. It wasn’t a vicious movement, but it could be felt. For a moment he thought she’d pull away and run back to steadier ground. But surprisingly, she kept soldiering forward.

  The farther they walked, the more hesitant her steps became. Then she stopped.

  “Wait, wait, wait, Roth. I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to do this. I can’t…”

  Her voice cracked as if she was about to cry, and what he saw on her face was genuine fear. They backtracked, went straight to the vehicle and headed back to the cabin. Tressa didn’t utter a word the entire drive, simply stared out the window and bounced her legs in quick succession.

  As bad as he wanted to, Roth didn’t push her to talk. When she was ready, she’d tell him what had frightened her so much the color had drained from her face. Roth didn’t know what had happened, but he was convinced it hadn’t been anything good.

  Damn. Had he pushed her too hard? He should have respected her wishes.

  It was a little after six in the evening when they pulled into the driveway. Inside, Tressa removed her gloves, coat and hat, then eased onto the sofa and hugged her knees to her chest. Everything inside him wanted to go to her and cocoon her in his arms, protect her. Instead, he lit a fire.

  “Can I get you anything? Hot chocolate, maybe?” he asked.

  Tressa shook her head. “No. I’m sorry for ruining the day.”

  Roth eased down next to her and took her hand into his. “You didn’t ruin anything. I had a great time.” Simply because he was with her, but that part stayed with him.

  “Yeah, until I spazzed out.”

  “That was my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

  Tressa swallowed hard. “When I was a child, I spent summers with my grandparents in the country. One day my childhood best friend, Cammie, convinced me to go with her to The Spot.”

  “The Spot?”

  “A place where all of the cool kids hung out.”

  For some reason Roth got the feeling this story wouldn’t end well.

  “We were only ten and shouldn’t have been hanging out with sixteen-year-olds, but we thought we were grown.”

  Didn’t all kids at that age?

  “It was all a lure. The cussing, smoking, drinking.” She chuckled. “Of course I was always the one too scared to do any of it. My grandmother didn’t play. She was old-school and wholeheartedly believed in ass whoopings.”

  At sixteen, he’d done all of those things she had mentioned. However, he wouldn’t have classified himself as a cool kid. More like a menace.

  “I begged Cammie to leave, but she wanted to stay. ‘Just a few more minutes.’” Tressa’s grip on his hand tightened as if she remembered something awful. “This boy Cammie had a crush on, Kevin Marshall—” she said the name with a scowl “—convinced her to jump off the bridge and into the river below, which wasn’t a big deal. Everyone did it.” Her voice cracked as she continued.

  Tears welled in her eyes.

  “Cammie hit the water wrong. By the time anyone got to her, it was too late.”

  A tear slid down her cheek, and Roth brushed it away. A second later he draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. Tressa wrapped her arms around him and held on to him tightly.

  “It was twenty-four years ago, but when I got out on that bridge, it all came rushing back.”

  Roth stroked her arm. “You have no idea how horrible I feel for forcing you out there.”

  “You didn’t force me, Roth. We made a deal, which I assume is void now.”

  “Nah. I’ll still honor it.”

  A beat of silence fell between them.

  Tressa tilted her head to look at him. After several beats of silence, she said, “Thank you, Roth. For everything. You’re a good friend.”

  “You’re welcome.” And before he knew it, he’d pressed a kiss to her forehead. When she reared back, their gazes held.

  For the thousandth time, he told himself this had to stop. All of it. Especially thi
s thing they did, this silent, powerful connection. It was too invasive. If it continued, she’d be in a place no one was allowed. Not even her, especially not her.

  “What do you see?”

  Roth’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “When you look at me that way, like you’re trying to read my mind, what do you see?”

  The question was loaded and dangerous. “A beautiful, strong, compassionate, selfless, intelligent, sometimes-stubborn woman, who I wish would have come into my life at a different time. A time when things were less…complicated.” He’d fallen on his own sacrificial sword.

  Tressa’s gaze left him briefly. “I see,” was all she said.

  Forcing his eyes away from her hypnotic stare, he kissed the inside of her wrist. This was something he had to stop doing, too. But he did it again. Suddenly, her wrist wasn’t enough for his lips.

  His mouth covered hers in a slow, cautious manner. Maybe he was giving her the opportunity to pull away since he clearly lacked the ability to do so.

  She didn’t.

  Instead, Tressa’s lips parted to accept his greedy tongue. He probed every inch of her wet, delicious mouth. For months, he’d longed for this opportunity again, ever since he’d kissed her in her best friend’s kitchen.

  Then, just like that, he snatched his mouth away. What in the hell was he doing? She wasn’t available to him. Not yet. Not in the way he wanted and needed her.

  Staring into her uncertain eyes, he said, “I should start the stew.” Amid great personal protest, he stood up and walked away, leaving her alone on the couch.

  But being the sometimes-stubborn woman she was, Tressa didn’t allow the conversation to simply end there. Perhaps because he’d said a lot, but had left even more unsaid and she wanted—possibly needed—to know what.

  How did he tell her that after only a day with her, he was falling harder and faster than he’d ever fallen before, and not sound insane?