by Jade Kerrion
Rowan moved to sit behind her and wrapped his arms around her. His presence anchored her. The sea breeze tugged her ponytail and caressed her cheeks. Only then did she realize her cheeks were damp with tears.
She pressed her hands against her face. “I’m sorry.”
His chest shifted against her back as he breathed out a silent sigh. “You need to stop apologizing for things that aren’t your fault.”
“The divorce might not have been, but falling apart on you is.”
“I’ve seen falling apart. Trust me, this isn’t it.”
“It’s crazy, isn’t it? The relationship died years ago. Signing the divorce papers only finalized it, yet I feel like I lost something.”
“Divorce, like marriage, is hard, even when both parties want it.”
Yes, and it was another thing she wished she had known earlier. Vera closed her eyes and sank into Rowan’s embrace. “And there you have it,” she murmured, her voice fading as she drifted into sleep. “The entire story of me.”
“There is so much more to you.” Rowan’s voice came to her as if from a great distance away. In her sleep, she smiled and held on to his words as if they were the lighthouse that would guide her safely back to shore.
~*~
Vera awoke with a jerk to a spray of sand over her face. “What—?”
Rowan winced. “Sorry. She was too fast for me.”
Allison waved her now-empty bucket over her mother. She wore her favorite pout and pointed at her stomach. “Hungry!”
“There’s food in the cooler,” Vera said.
Rowan shook his head. “Not anymore. Most of the Cheerios spilled in the sand, but she finished both jars of her baby food, all the pear slices, and half the watermelon.”
“What? That’s way more than she usually eats.”
“Building sandcastles is very strenuous,” he said.
Vera looked around and found herself in the courtyard of a gargantuan sandcastle that had evidently been built around her while she slept. “Wow.”
Rowan flashed a grin at Allison. “We did all that, didn’t we, Alli-naut?”
“Yup.” Allison thumped her spade on the sand. “More!”
“What time is it?” Vera asked.
“About four thirty.”
“What?” Had she slept for two hours? Vera released her hair from the ponytail and tried to shake out the sand. “I didn’t think we would be out here for so long. I guess we’re all out of water too?”
“Just about.” Rowan watched as the little master builder transformed into Godzilla. Sections of the sandcastle crumbled from Allison’s monstrous rampage. “I’d give her an hour before she melts down from too much sugar and too little sleep. She’s all yours now, by the way.” He winked and grinned.
Vera laughed. “Oh, you’re too kind.”
His smile warmed. “If you have an extra change of clothes, my hotel’s just across the street, perfect for a quick shower before dinner.”
“Sure, why not?”
Rowan’s help made reloading the car a great deal easier and faster than unloading it. Within fifteen minutes, they were back at his room at the W Hotel. Vera rinsed Allison and changed her into clean clothes, and then handed her to Rowan, before undressing and hopping into the shower.
She did linger in the shower longer than she had to. It should have felt overly familiar and inappropriate to use the hotel room of a man she had met no more than a week ago, but her and Allison’s ease around Rowan made the odd situation comfortable.
How fast could a woman fall in love, she wondered?
She stepped out of the shower, toweled herself dry, and changed into a forest green T-shirt and denim jeans. Damn it. In the chaos of making sure that Allison had everything she needed, Vera had forgotten to pack her full makeup kit. Her compact powder and lip gloss would have to suffice.
The cosmetics might have helped some, but Vera decided the radiant woman in the mirror who stared back at her owed more to an amazing foot massage the previous night, a long afternoon nap, and the unflagging attention of a gorgeous man who lavished tenderness on her and doted on her daughter.
Vera stepped out of the bathroom, stopped short, and laughed. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I suppose I should have hurried.”
Rowan shrugged as he looked at the little girl fast asleep in the middle of the king-sized bed. “I don’t think it would have helped. Toothpicks couldn’t prop her eyes open.”
“So much for dinner on Las Olas.”
“There’s always room service,” he said. “Do you think she’ll sleep through the night?”
Vera glanced at her watch. “Actually, I’ll bet on two or three hours. She’ll probably wake and want something to eat.”
“Well, that puts us right at a reasonable dinnertime. How about drinks and appetizers here in the room, and then we can go out, or not, when she wakes?”
“Sounds great.”
“Good. Why don’t you call in the order while I shower?” He handed her the room service menu.
Moments later, the sound of running water started up in the bathroom. Vera sank into a chair and perused the menu before picking up the phone.
“Whatever/Whenever at your service, Mr. Forrester,” a pleasant female voice said. “How can I help you?”
“I’d like to place a room service order.”
“Certainly, ma’am,” the operator switched the honorific without missing a beat. “What can I get for you?”
Vera placed the order and then hung up. The appetizers and drinks arrived before Rowan stepped out of the bathroom. His chestnut brown hair was still damp, the ends curling against the nape of his neck, and he was dressed as simply as she was in a T-shirt and jeans. His feet were bare, and his overall look was one of relaxed comfort.
Still, Vera’s heart skipped a beat. How could it not when the man in front of her was the sexiest, most generous-hearted man she had ever known? She laughed softly. “I’d like to say the food arrived quickly, but actually, your shower took forever.”
“My one great failing,” Rowan confessed, though he did not sound in the least bit apologetic. “There’s nothing wrong with life that a long shower can’t fix. Of course, you could just blame it on my living alone for so long. I’ve never had to share the hot water.”
He reached for his beer and took his seat across from her. “Good day today.” He raised his bottle in a silent toast to her.
“I wouldn’t know,” she said drily. “I think I slept through most of it.” While you watched over me and my daughter. She smiled. “I had a wonderful day, Rowan. Thank you.”
“It’s not over yet.”
Vera’s smile widened. His words promised that the best was yet to come.
The appetizers grew cool and the drinks warm as she relaxed in Rowan’s company. Their easy conversation, punctuated by comfortable silence, made the hours fly by. Allison woke, as Vera had predicted, just before 8 p.m., and they headed out to Las Olas together. Within a half hour, they were seated at the dockside patio of an Asian fusion bistro.
The night was cool, and Vera wrapped a knitted blanket around Allison’s shoulders. The child scowled. Moments later, the blanket ended up on the ground. With a chuckle, Rowan picked it up and handed it to Vera. “I think we’ll know when she’s cold enough to keep it on.”
“I suppose,” Vera said as she moved the decorative votive candle out of Allison’s reach. The ordinariness of her actions belied the extraordinariness of the moment. She was out on a date with a man who seemed to enjoy her company and her daughter’s, as much as she enjoyed his. How amazing was that?
She looked across the table at Rowan. Between them, Allison pounded enthusiastically on the high chair tray with her spoon. Rowan’s eyes met Vera’s. His gaze was equally solemn as he reached across the table, his hand palm up.
She met him halfway. Their hands met. Fingers entwined.
Family.
Vera inhaled sharply. The feeling of completeness caught
her off guard. Surely she could not be contemplating more than just one more day with Rowan.
But “just one more day” could eventually become a lifetime.
Allison fidgeted in her seat. Her face twisted into an expression of anguish as she waved a fist in the air.
“Oh!” Vera leaped up from her chair, grabbed Allison, and scurried into the restaurant. The restrooms were located at the rear of the building, and they made it in time. For her efforts, Allison received two effusive kisses. Vera continued to murmur praises into Allison’s ear as she carried her daughter out the restroom.
“Vera?” a sharp voice snapped like a leash about her neck.
She jerked to a stop and stared at a couple cozied in a romantic booth for two.
“What are you doing here?” Darren demanded.
“What am I—?” Vera’s gaze shuttled between her ex-husband and the stunning blond woman next to him. “What are you—was this your ‘emergency’? Is this why you couldn’t take Allison this weekend?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, but a dull flush crept into his face.
“It is, isn’t it?” Fury surged, a roar through her head. “You tossed aside our daughter for a date?”
A sneer twisted his face. “Just because you can’t get a date doesn’t mean I shouldn’t.” His cold blue eyes raked over her clothes. “Come on, look at you. Jeans? A T-shirt? No makeup?” He turned to his date. “You see, this is what I put up with for thirteen years—a woman who didn’t give a damn about making herself pretty for me.”
Vera glanced at Darren’s date and took in the woman’s black cocktail dress, perfectly accessorized with matching pearl necklace and dangling earrings. Her makeup was flawless, and her eyes were filled with pity.
A lump rose up to block Vera’s throat, but did nothing to keep the humiliated tears from filling her eyes.
Allison squirmed, twisting around. She held out her arms. “Roan!”
“I’ve got you, Alli-naut.” Rowan’s smooth baritone cut through the horrid moment.
Strong arms took Allison from her, and moments later, Vera felt Rowan’s arm at her waist. His touch pushed the panic away. Her chin tilted up and she blinked, hard and furious, to hold the tears back.
Rowan pulled her close. His proximity anchored her. “Is there a problem here?”
Darren’s jaw dropped.
The woman beside him stared up at Rowan, her lips parted in surprise. She breathed, “You’re—”
“Rowan Forrester.”
“Yes. Yes, of course.” She placed a hand over Darren’s arm. “We should let them get back to their date.” She looked up at Vera with no trace of mockery in her green eyes or her hesitant smile. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
Vera said nothing. She could not get the words out past the lump in her throat.
She allowed Rowan to guide her away from Darren’s table. Only after the patio doors shut behind them did her breath escape from her in a gasp of tearing pain. Her chest heaved with the shudder of great soundless sobs.
Rowan’s grip on her waist tightened. “Vera, talk to me. Do you want to sit down, or should I take you home?”
She closed her eyes. Darkness surrounded her and isolated her. If only it was as easy to pretend that the world would always hold just her and Allison and Rowan. The world would be perfect. “Take me home, please. Just take me home.”
~*~
Back in her townhouse, Vera curled on the couch and closed her eyes. Her head and chest throbbed from the tears she did not cry. Sound and movement rustled in the background, but she did not have the strength or energy to care until Rowan’s arms slid under her arms and knees and lifted her from the couch.
“Where are you taking me?” she mumbled as she cracked her eyes open.
“Upstairs.”
“Where’s Allison?”
“She fell asleep in the car. I carried her up to her room.”
“Okay.” She bit down on her lower lip. “About Darren, I’m so sorry—”
“Don’t be sorry, Vera. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to stop him before he said those lies about you.”
Vera squeezed her eyes shut. The pressure on her chest crushed her spirit. “They weren’t lies,” she whispered. Oh, God. She needed him to leave so that she could be alone to cry.
But when he set her down, it wasn’t on her bed. Her feet touched the tiles of her bathroom floor. Vera stared in confusion at the filled tub. Fragrant bubbles covered its surface. The steam wafting from the warm water obscured the mirrors.
“But—”
“There’s nothing wrong with life that a long shower or a long bath can’t fix.”
How like a man to think that he could march into her life and solve all of her problems in under a week with nothing more than soothing words and a bubble bath. She shook her head. Her voice trembled with suppressed tears. “Rowan, I just want to—”
“Relax. You need to relax. Now, can you get yourself into that bath or should I undress you?”
“You can’t bully me into feeling better.”
Rowan sighed. “I’m not trying to bully you into anything. I want to help. Please let me.”
“I’m not one of your clients, damn it. You can stop pretending.”
He stiffened. “What?”
“You can stop pretending you see something different in me. Didn’t you hear what Darren said?”
“He was trying to hurt you.”
“But it was the truth. Don’t you see? Jeans. T-shirt. No makeup.”
Rowan grabbed her upper arm and spun her around to face the mirror. He wiped the fog off the glass. “We’re both wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and no makeup. So what’s the problem?”
“How can it be enough?” She squeezed her eyes shut and forced the words out. Darkness made it easier. “Men want something different from…this.” Something different from me.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I wasn’t enough for Darren, and you…you’re more than he is, so how can I possibly be enough for you?”
“I want you.”
“How do I know it’s real? You fake desire for a living, Rowan. Your job is to make women feel special, desirable.”
“Damn it, Vera. I’m not—”
“And you’re good at it.” Her voice caught. “You almost had me fooled. Whenever I had sex with Darren, I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything. I thought it was my fault, but then yesterday, with you—” She shook her head sharply. Derision dripped from her words. “I should have known better. The only way I could get aroused was with an escort.”
“Stop it. You were aroused because you wanted me and I wanted you. That’s it. No other reason.”
Vera stared at Rowan. She wanted to believe him. More than anything, she wanted his words to be true. She threw her arms around his neck and breathed kisses along the line of his jaw. His fresh scent of soap and shampoo filled her nostrils. His hard erection pressed against her thigh. His lips parted slightly as she forced herself upon him.
It took her a moment to realize that he was not kissing her.
She took a step back.
He stood stiff, his arms pressed rigidly to his side. His expression was taut. A muscle twitched in his tightly clenched jaw.
Oh, God. He did not want her.
Vera curled in upon herself and turned her back on him. “Go away.”
“No.”
“You don’t want me.”
“I do, even when you want me for the wrong reasons, but when your head is clearer, you’ll be glad I said no.” He sighed. “Look, Vera. The water’s getting cold. Take a bath or not—I don’t care—but I’m not leaving with you in this state.”
She stared at him. She could feel the distance between them grow with each passing second, and she did not know how to stop the schism. Like her marriage to Darren, her relationship with Rowan was disintegrating before her eyes. “I need your help,” she whispered.
&n
bsp; “Anything,” he said immediately.
“I want you to help me show Darren he was wrong about me.”
Rowan frowned, his eyes narrowing. “How are you going to do that?”
“Clothes. Makeup. Jewelry. I can do all that too. I can find out from Darren’s secretary if he has a date next weekend. I want you to take me out, show me off to him.”
“Vera. I don’t think—”
“Don’t you see? I want to look special. Feel special. You can do this for me, can’t you? Just take me out to dinner next week. It’s no different from what you do for any other client. Whatever your rate, I’ll pay you.”
“I’m not—”
“Please, Rowan. I have no one else who can help me with this. All the other men I know are Darren’s friends. I just need to show Darren he was wrong about me.”
He averted his face. “This isn’t a good idea, but if that’s what you want, then I’ll help you.”
“Thank you.” She would have thanked him with a hug, but something about his stance warned her to keep her distance. She had hurt him. This time, she knew exactly how and why, but there was not a damned thing she could do about it.
She had shattered any chance of a personal relationship. All that was left to them was the professional relationship of escort and client, and even she knew that their first professional date would be their last.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The following Saturday, Rowan stood on the front doorstep of Vera’s townhouse and took a moment to compose himself before he rang the doorbell. They had not spoken for seven days, not since their date the previous weekend. Each day, at noon, he had fought the compulsion to call and ask how she was doing. It was no longer his business, he reminded himself. She had set the terms for the relationship. She wanted him to help her snub her ex-husband.