He stepped around Mrs. Rutledge, entering the house and heading for the bar in the formal living room. He had never needed a drink so badly in his life. There were too many thoughts in his head clamoring for notice. Some of them had to be quieted, or he’d never make sense of anything.
“Did you find what you needed?”
His fingers tensed as they wrapped around the neck of the bottle of Scotch. Lifting it, he set the bottle on the bar with a clang and reached for a highball glass. “Some ice would be good.”
“Did you find what you needed from your father?”
“I don’t know what I need.” He filled the glass halfway and took a healthy swig, delighting in the heat that slid down his throat, pooled in his belly. Now if it would only calm his mind.
“Yes, you do. You always have.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” He took another drink, then stepped toward her. “I don’t like that you never told me you saw him, or that you’ve kept him up to date on my life. He gave up that right, and you had no—”
“He isn’t in prison for leaving you.”
“He signed away his parental rights.”
Mrs. Rutledge shook her head, her eyes a stern and steely gray. “Because the Fryes were a better option than foster care. Your mother wouldn’t have wanted that, so he did what she would have wanted and gave you a home.”
“She would have wanted me in my home.” With his father, no matter the monster he’d become. Curtis’s head spun, his stomach churned. He hated this out-of-control sensation. Refilling his glass, he marched through the darkened house, making his way to the den where he sank into a leather armchair.
“Do you think you’re doing what she would have wanted?”
“Me?” He twisted in his chair so his gaze could follow her as she stepped to the couch, the leather creaking as she sat.
“You. You live your life in a quiet terror. She wouldn’t have wanted that.”
“Pray tell, what am I afraid of?” He took another swig, lacing his every word with sarcasm. “I had my fear of the dark beat out of me by the man you visit like it’s a religion.”
“You’re afraid to feel anything. You’re not even comfortable with the rage you feel now. You think he abandoned you, that I betrayed you, and so you’ll drink until you are numb, fall asleep, and never speak of it again. This is why I was concerned when you got involved with Robyn.”
He straightened up, pointing a finger at her. “Don’t!”
“I will, because no one else dares. If you’re going to continue to shut that girl out, let her go.”
“How dare you!” Anger flooded through him, speeding his pulse. To release the fury, he hurled the glass at the opposite wall, the explosion doing nothing to calm him.
“You’re cleaning that up, Jason. I’m not here to mop up after you. I stay here to make sure you maintain a connection with someone. I’m afraid if something happens to me, you’ll close yourself off completely.”
He swallowed hard, watching the Scotch drip down the wall. Robyn’s words from their first night on the island echoed back to him. “If you would only let yourself feel something, anything, I think it would be for me.” He’d shut off all emotion for so long, it was hard to recognize any feeling anymore.
His lips were painfully dry as he opened his mouth. “She left me.” The words spoken aloud punched him in the gut.
“So bring her back.”
“I’m trying. She wants things I can’t give her.”
“Won’t. You can do anything you set your mind to if you stop being afraid.”
“I’m not afraid. I don’t know how to be the man she needs.”
“You’ll learn. Robyn is a patient woman. She’ll be willing to teach you.” She stood and walked to his chair, leaned a hand on his shoulder. “As long as you are in love with her.”
He chuffed. “The woman has a Cinderella complex. She thinks life is a fairy tale where everything is perfect. She expects to be happily married and have children, and for nothing to ever shake that world.”
“Why would you have her compromise? Hope for anything less?”
“It’s not reality. Things happen you can’t prepare for.”
“Dreams aren’t real until you make them happen. How is it you can be so forward thinking in business but so cynical about life?”
“You of all people need to ask that?”
She shook her head slowly, squeezing his shoulder before she released it. “Maybe that’s a question you should ask yourself. If life is short, shouldn’t you live it to its fullest? Accomplishments don’t make a life, love does.”
Her footsteps down the hall punctuated her statement. Curtis slumped in the chair, closing his eyes. He’d been searching everywhere for the reason why he’d walked away from Robyn without a fight, but the answer had been with him all the time. He didn’t keep her at arm’s length because he was adopted, because his mother died, or because of what his father did. He held back because he was afraid to lose her, had been from the moment he learned she might take another job.
Robyn broke down barriers to reach him in a way no one ever had, gave life to his emotions. But he couldn’t take in the good without the bad. To love her was to risk losing his soul if something were to happen to take her from him. He didn’t know what terrified him more, losing her or finding himself.
Chapter Fourteen
“Where am I?”
Curtis jumped from the chair and made it to the bedside in two steps. “Don’t try to open your eyes.”
He took Robyn’s hand as she tried to reach for her eyes, covered with plastic shields. “Is it over?”
“You’ve been home for three hours. Let me turn off the lights and put some drops in your eyes, then you can open them. Your tear ducts won’t work for a day or two.” So he had to keep her from crying the way she was wont to do. No talking about anything that mattered.
Which was fine. Ever since he saw her through the window of the operating theater, the urgency to fix everything had faded. Her presence soothed his soul, buffing out the jagged edges that snagged on all the reasons she was right to turn down his proposal, until he felt as calm and sure as a mirrored lake.
“Oh, I remember now. You were there. I thought that was the medication.” She stretched catlike in the bed, then froze. “Did you take off my pants?”
“It can’t be comfortable to sleep in jeans.” He flipped the lights, the only illumination coming from the hallway. Sitting on the bed next to where she lay, he removed the plastic eye shields and placed a drop of saline in the inside corner of each eye. Her dark lashes fanned against her pale cheeks. Remembering his initial reaction after surgery, he took both of her hands in his.
“Okay, go ahead and open them.” She cautiously opened her eyes, and her hands instinctively jerked to touch them. He held them firm. She blinked a few times, allowing the drops to wet her eyes.
“I’m in my room, but it’s at your house.” She squeezed his hand tighter. “And I can see my name on my diploma on the wall. I couldn’t do that with my glasses on.”
“You’re sobering up. Do you want something to eat? It’s best to have something in your stomach when you take your pain pill.”
“Why is this a bedroom? I stored my things here, but this is my room.”
He nodded. “I remember. I thought you’d be more comfortable this way. How’s the pain?”
“It doesn’t hurt, really. I mean, it’s scratchy and tired like I’ve been staring at a computer screen all day, but I can handle it.”
He had to laugh. Robyn being tough. “The medication helps you sleep and gives your eyes a chance to heal. You need to take it. Corneal tissue heals in twenty-four hours, so if you sleep today, you’ll feel fine tomorrow. Besides, you might change your mind about the pain when I have to put in the other drops. The steroid ones aren’t bad, but the antibiotic ones sting like a mother.”
“Is that why you’re doing this? To torture me?” She smiled, look
ing about the room. “Aren’t you supposed to be out of town?”
“I took a few vacation days. You should be fine by the weekend, but I wanted to be home just in case.”
“You cleared your schedule to take care of me?”
He shrugged. “You would have done it for me. What do you want to eat? I have peanut butter and jelly or just peanut butter.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Where is Mrs. Rutledge?”
He clenched his teeth to keep from smiling. Best not to let her know what he had in mind. “On vacation. So what will it be?”
“How about I take another pill, and you order Chinese sometime before I wake up again?”
…
“How do people do this on their own?” She hated how whiny her voice sounded. She clenched her fists and willed herself to open her eyes. She yelped as soon as she did, the antibiotic drops stinging like orange juice on a paper cut. “I hate this.”
“I know, but this is the last day. The doctor said you’re a model patient, and as long as there is no redness, we’ll switch to just wetting drops tomorrow. Let’s do the other eye now.”
“It hurts, and my eyes can’t tear to wash it away.”
“You tried that excuse on the doctor. Now open up.”
The drop hit, startling her like they all did. She thought at some point she’d stop, but she jumped out of her skin every time. She twisted her head off his lap, sitting up on the couch. Her eyes still stung as she opened them, peering at the black-and-white movie on the television. They’d spent the entire weekend tiptoeing around anything important. She’d slept through most of it, which made ignoring the elephant in the room easier. Free of the medication, nothing could hold back her racing thoughts.
Why had he done all this—arranged the surgery, taken time off, cared for her himself—when it would have been infinitely easier to hire a nurse or ship her back to her parents? She couldn’t figure it out, and whenever she asked, he refused to talk of anything that might make her cry. And, given her track record, she couldn’t argue with him.
“The doctor said I’m fine. You should go to work.” Definitely. Give me some room so I can think clearly without your pheromones invading my senses.
“This is your first day without the shields. It’s easier if I stay home, in case something goes wrong.”
“The doctor said I could have stopped wearing those silly plastic things on Friday, but you had me looking like a bug all weekend.”
“I didn’t want anything to go wrong with your gorgeous eyes.” He got up from the couch and kissed the top of her head as he made his way back to her bedroom to put away the drops.
With a resigned sigh, she pushed off the couch and followed him. She had to do this, and the sooner the better. Every minute in his presence made her want to rethink her decision. But she’d spent her whole life arranging perfection for other people, always claiming contentment at watching the perfect party go off smoothly when she really wanted to be the belle of the ball. She wanted it all or nothing. Settling for watching from the sidelines was no longer good enough.
Strangely, he’d given her the confidence to stand up for herself. If she hadn’t been able to stir a reaction in him, hadn’t earned his trust and desire, she might have taken the pieces of a life he offered. No point starting a puzzle when you knew pieces were missing.
“Curtis,” she said, standing in the doorway. “You should go to work. I don’t want you to watch me pack.”
He turned slowly, leaning a hand on the footboard of her bed. “I don’t want you to go.”
“I know.” She sucked in a breath, struggling not to get emotional. “I’m going to take a shower so I don’t have to watch you leave, and I’ll be gone before you get back from work.”
“You can’t drive all the way back to your parents’ today. It will be dark soon, and it wouldn’t be safe. What if you have trouble seeing at night?”
“I’m going to fly home. I drove here to bring you the SUV. It belongs to Golden City, and I don’t work there anymore.”
“You don’t want to be a project manager? I have folders on all the projects I’ve been pondering. You netted a half million on Sapphire Isle when Golden decided to take it on and develop it into a resort. Do you want to use that to start a party-planning business?”
“I don’t want your money, Curtis.”
“It’s your money. We could be partners. There is an estate on Hawaii I think we could convert. I’ll get the file.” He took a step toward the door.
“No. I can’t work with you, Curtis. Working together isn’t healthy for me.” Her eyes felt heavy, but there were no tears to shed.
On the other side of the door hung her bright orange terry cloth robe. She reached around to snag it, but not before he caught her arm.
“Use my shower. I threw the rugs and towels from yours in the washing machine before we left for your doctor appointment.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “You can do dishes and laundry?”
“My family is rich, not spoiled.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Go take your shower.”
With a quick nod, she retreated down the hall and into her own thoughts. Did she really have the strength to walk away from him again? Last time, she’d been the one to end things, but he’d been the one to leave. Could she do it if he asked her to stay?
Inside Curtis’s bedroom, she furrowed her brow. Furniture had been pushed aside and against the wall, everything draped in drop cloths. Where had Curtis been sleeping? She’d had her eyes covered at night, and he’d been there as soon as she stirred to put in the drops. Had he been sleeping in the chair?
Stepping farther into the room, she spied the master bathroom. Before, when she’d carried his clothes in and helped Mrs. Rutledge to hang them in his closet, there had been a closed door. In its place, he’d created a plastered archway, leading into a tiled room.
The large marble tiles were cool and slick beneath her feet, taking her breath away as she flicked on a light and took it all in. Warm memories washed over her, followed by a flash of heat. He’d transformed the space into a copy of the bath at the estate, albeit on a smaller scale. The shower looked identical, with tiled walls, showerheads on either end, and body jets to spray along the front and back. Near the knobs to turn it on she spied a difference. He’d put in a handheld showerhead as well.
Okay. So maybe he had been thinking about them while they were apart. She smiled as she shed her clothes and turned on the spray. He’d thought about how great their physical chemistry was, at least. But that hadn’t been the problem. He wanted to live a life where he kept everyone at arm’s length, and one that excluded becoming a parent—something she knew she needed to experience one day.
Not today, the naughty side of her mind teased as she stepped beneath the spraying water. The steam misting up moistened her eyes, making them feel almost normal as she closed them and let the water stream over her face.
Just like with the clothes, he’d wanted to share with her a feeling he’d had. This time he’d gotten it right. She’d always be grateful to him for the way he helped her see herself as worthy of a whole marriage. Without their time together on the island, she might have been willing to subject herself to the contract. Knowing she could ignite the passions and respect of a man like Curtis Frye, she’d realized she’d never be satisfied with less than everything.
“I want you to stay.”
Curtis’s voice shocked her so much she nearly forgot to move her head from the water before opening her eyes to find him standing in front of the shower.
“I’ve done a lot of work while you were away.”
“I can see that. Can we do this when I’m not so…” She waved her hands in front of her body, highlighting her nakedness.
“I’m not talking about the bathroom. I’m talking about me. And you’re not half as bare as I am right now, believe me.”
His hands went to work on the buttons of his light blue shirt. “I asked my mother wh
y they adopted me. No revelations there. I didn’t feel any different.”
As he peeled off the shirt and tossed it to the floor, she held up her hand. “Curtis, I don’t know if this is the best idea.”
“It’s all I have. I know it might not be enough, but it is the best I can do.” He dropped his gaze, staring at his belt as he undid it. “After I talked with her, I went and sat at my mother’s grave. Still no answers. I saw only one option, and as much as I didn’t want to do it, I went to see him.”
Realization rocked Robyn back against the cooler tiles of the shower wall. He’d gone to see his father. He’d been searching for answers the entire time they were apart. The shower hadn’t been a bribe. He wasn’t looking for an easy way out. He wanted to be whole as much as she did.
Curtis shoved his pants to the floor and leaned against the wall to peel off his socks. “He asked about you. He seemed to know why I was there.” His lips twitched as he shucked his boxers and walked to the shower.
“Please?” he asked, holding out his hand.
She took it, pulling him into the shower and wrapping her arms around him so they stood skin to skin, warming each other from the front while the showers cascaded down their backs.
“I told him everything.” He looked down at her, his blue eyes glassy with a sheen that had nothing to do with steam from the shower. “He cried, and I tried not to. But he didn’t have any answers for me, either. And so I went to your room, and lay on your bed, and I…” He squeezed his eyes shut, pulling her tight against him.
Unsure how to stop his pain, she simply held on, letting him find the words again.
His hands stroked over her wet hair then framed her face. “I’m afraid to lose you. I have been for a long time. I need for you to love me like I need to breathe. Tell me I haven’t gone too far to get you back.”
Reaching up, she brought his mouth to hers, kissing him softly. He responded with a fervor she remembered well, but it didn’t answer any of her lingering questions.
The Billionaire's Runaway Fiancé (Invested in Love) Page 18