by Jane Porter
“Theoretically, yes, but you weren’t there.”
“So wait until I am there.”
“I’m done waiting,” he ground out.
“I should have been there when you told her,” she shot back, walking toward the bathroom. “I should have been part of that conversation.”
“Theoretically, yes,” he answered, leaning against the door frame, all taut, toned muscle and leashed power. “But there was a moment during our tea when she told me she didn’t have a daddy and I was right there, and what was I to do? Pretend I hadn’t heard her—”
“She did not say any such thing!”
“She did, mo ghra, and so I told her that I was her daddy.” He shrugged, straightened. “I didn’t make a big deal out of it. I didn’t want to overwhelm her. I simply told her I was her father, and I was very sorry to have been away so long, but I wouldn’t leave her in the future. I explained that we will all live together now, and we’ll be a happy family, the three of us, and hopefully with time, she’d have a baby brother or sister, or both.”
Her gaze had been sliding down his body but she jerked it back up, taking in his chiseled jaw, faintly smiling lips, and that impossibly smug expression. “You did not!”
“Oh, I did. And she was excited. She said she’d love a baby brother or sister. Or both. Maybe twins. Twin boys. Twin girls. The more the merrier.” He gave her a searching look. “You do want a big family, too, don’t you?”
“That’s not funny.”
“Jax and I are quite serious.”
“Don’t include Jax in this. She’s just a baby herself, which is why you shouldn’t lead her on. You’ll just disappoint her—”
“But, love, think about it. We didn’t use protection last night. You could very well be pregnant already.”
She didn’t know what to respond to first, his continued use of the word love or the suggestion that she could be pregnant. She focused on the second one since they’d both already established that he didn’t love. “It takes longer than that for the sperm to travel to the egg,” she retorted frostily.
“Maybe I have super sperm.” And then flashing her a maddening smile, he turned around, displaying more of his assets, and disappeared into the bathroom.
Logan stood there, fuming, clenching and unclenching her hands. He was so satisfied with himself and so infuriating. And yet, to be fair, she couldn’t blame him for feeling victorious. Rowan was proving to be an expert at getting things done, his way.
“By the way,” Rowan suddenly called to her, even as she heard the shower turn on. “I heard from Drakon earlier today. There seems to be some drama in your family at the moment, and he hoped you could call Morgan after dinner, and I hope so, too, since you’ve no reason to fight with me——”
“You’re trying to pick a fight with me right now.”
“I’m trying to get you to focus on the big picture. Your family is in turmoil. You don’t need to quarrel with me.”
“So just marry you and be done with it. Not want anything for myself. Not need love or kindness.”
“I’m very kind to you.”
“Rowan!”
“I am. I made you feel so good last night.”
“That’s not kindness. That’s sexual expertise. You’re experienced. Technically sound. Big deal.”
“It was last night.” His voice was somewhat muffled but she still heard the hint of laughter.
“And this is today,” she snapped, walking closer to the bathroom. “So what is happening with my family?”
“Your sisters are fighting.”
She rolled her eyes. She wasn’t surprised. She didn’t even need to ask him which sisters. “I warned you that Morgan and Victoria don’t get along.”
“They seem to have done all right for a day, but then they began discussing the memorial for your father and things fell apart.”
“I’m sure I know what happened there. Morgan wants a service and Jemma and Victoria don’t, and Morgan’s hoping she can convince me to take her side.”
“Yes. How did you know?”
She grimaced and rubbed her knuckles over her chin. “It’s the story of our family. Even when we try, we can’t get along.”
“But the news always depicts you four sisters as being very close.”
“Lies, all lies,” she sang and then her mocking smile slipped. “We’ve spent our lives being painted as those scandalous Copelands, but we’re a family much like anyone else. We have problems. We struggle to agree on things. We have different goals and dreams. But that is far less interesting to the media. I’m afraid we’ll always be tabloid fodder.”
“Explain the family dynamics to me.”
“That would take all day.”
“Give me the short version.”
“The judge allowed us as children to choose which parent we would live with. We all initially chose to live with Mom, but then Morgan—the most tenderhearted of us—felt sorry for Dad and decided to go live with him, even though he had zero interest in being a father or being there for her. But once she made her decision, she stuck with it, and to this day, she’s tried to side with him, which actually just means taking care of him.”
“Even though your father stole millions from Drakon?”
She grimaced. “It certainly complicated their marriage, didn’t it?”
“So why are Morgan and Victoria so antagonistic? That doesn’t make sense to me.”
“Morgan wants everyone to forgive Dad, but Victoria isn’t sure she can forgive Morgan for siding with Dad. It’s endless and exhausting, and between us, I’m tired of it. That’s why I moved to California, to get away from the family and the drama.”
“Hmm.” His deep voice was a rumble from inside the bathroom. “So if Morgan was Team Daniel, and Victoria was his archenemy, where are you on the spectrum?”
She tipped her head, rested it on the door frame. “Probably closer to Victoria, but not as extreme. It’s hard because there was Dad and the bitter divorce, and then there was Dad, the investor turned swindler. He made a lot of really bad decisions in his life and now there are five of us trying to move forward, burdened with his...legacy.”
Rowan was silent for a bit. “Do you have any good memories of him?”
“Not that I can remember.”
“So the memorial service isn’t important to you.”
“I don’t think we need one, but you can’t tell Morgan that. She had such a different relationship with him than the rest of us did.”
“She’s your twin.”
“Fraternal. We’re nothing alike.”
“But weren’t you close growing up?”
“Yes. Until she left to go live with Dad.” She fell silent a moment, thinking about the complex dynamics. “I do love her, though. She and I have a good relationship. I don’t like her being upset.”
“According to Drakon she’s very upset, but then, so is Victoria.”
“And they’re still together, under one roof?”
“No, as a matter of fact. Victoria is now on her way to Jemma’s, and based on what I heard from Drakon, you’re not going to get your sisters together anytime soon, whether for a memorial service or anything else.”
Jemma was married to the powerful King of Saidia, Sheikh Mikael Karim, who’d married her against her will. He was seeking revenge on Daniel Copeland, but by the end of their honeymoon, Jemma and Mikael had fallen in love. He still was not a fan of her father but Mikael was fiercely protective of Jemma. “So they won’t be attending our wedding?” Logan said.
The water turned off.
The bathroom was silent except for the drip, drip of water.
Logan grimaced and shook her head. Why did she just say that? What was she thinking? “I was making a joke,” she called to him. �
�Trying to lighten the mood.”
He said nothing.
She squirmed, giving herself a mental kick. “That was a joke,” she repeated. “We’re not getting married. I was trying to be funny.”
“I’m sure Drakon and Morgan would come for the wedding,” he answered, turning the water back on. “Mikael and Jemma would, too. And probably your mother—”
“Rowan, stop. It was a joke. A bad joke.” She peered into the bathroom, unable to see all the way in, but she got a glimpse of the large mirror, clouded with steam. “But speaking of family members. How is Bronson? You haven’t said much about him.”
“I’ve been waiting for an update from his doctors.” His voice was muffled. The shower sounded louder than before. “There was a setback early this morning.”
“A setback?” She waited for him to add more, but he didn’t. She took another step into the bathroom. “And? What happened? What’s going on?”
“Come all the way in so I don’t have to keep shouting.”
“I don’t want to come in. You’re showering.”
“I’m sure you’ve seen a man shower before.”
She hesitated. “Actually, I haven’t.”
For a moment there was just silence and then she heard his low laugh. “Then you definitely must come in. Consider it remedial education.”
“Not necessary. My education was excellent, thank you. I attended some of the best schools in the world.”
He laughed softly again.
CHAPTER NINE
ROWAN’S WARM, HUSKY LAUGH sent a ripple of pleasure through her, unleashing butterflies in her middle and a rush of warmth in her chest. Why did she respond like that to him? Why did she have to find him so appealing?
He’d simply laughed. That was all. And yet his laugh made her feel good. His laugh didn’t just turn her on, it warmed her from the inside out. Damn him.
Logan hovered inside the bathroom doorway and tried to force herself to focus. “How serious is Bronson’s setback?” Rowan didn’t reply immediately, and she took another tentative step into the warm, humid bathroom. “Is Bronson okay?”
“He’s getting the best medical care possible but he’s not responding as well as the team hoped.” He paused, before asking, “When was the last time you saw him?”
She had to think. “It’s been a while. A couple years, maybe. I was pregnant, and then I had Jax, so I wasn’t traveling and Bronson is always working. He’s spent the past three years working tirelessly to pay back as many of Dad’s clients as possible. It’s a thankless job, though. Most of the clients are so angry—and yes, they have a right to be, I know—but Bronson didn’t steal from them. Bronson had nothing to do with Dad’s company, and they don’t realize, or maybe they just don’t care, that he’s sacrificing everything to pay them back.”
Water just sluiced down. There was no reply. Not sure if he’d heard her or if he was done talking, she cleared her throat “Why did you ask? Is there something I should know, something you haven’t told me?”
Again silence stretched before Rowan said, “He’s almost destitute...just one step up from living on the streets.”
“No.”
“He’s been ill, too. He’s not in good shape.”
“I had no idea. Poor Bronson. So who is with him? Mom?” She found it difficult to reconcile her tall, handsome, successful brother with the one in the hospital. “Are there any leads on who attacked him?”
“Your mother isn’t there. She’s been fighting something and isn’t strong enough to travel.”
“So he’s alone?”
“Yes, but there is good news. The London police have taken someone in for questioning. It looks like the attack was an isolated incident. Victoria should be able to return home soon.”
“That is good news.”
“So Jax and I could return home soon, too.”
“You’re free to travel wherever you like.”
“Seriously? So I could go to my room and pack right now?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not worried about losing me?”
“No, because you’d return frequently to see Jax—”
“I’m not leaving Jax here.”
“I’m her dad. She needs to be with me.”
“I’m her mother, Rowan. She belongs with me.”
“Then I guess you might not want to travel for long periods, because this is her home now. And it’s your home, too, Logan. That’s why we’re getting married. We both want Jax to have a family, and stability. There shouldn’t be confusion on that.” He was silent a moment before adding, “Do you want to come in and give me a hand?”
“A hand doing what?” she asked suspiciously.
“Well, you could wash my back...or something.”
She went warm all over, picturing the something, and picturing the something growing larger, heavier.
She definitely was curious, and she squirmed a bit, listening to the water stream down, but she didn’t like him and didn’t trust him, and she hated how he used sex and temptation against her.
“You don’t play fair,” she called to him, trying not to wonder if he used a lot of soap or body wash, and if he’d lathered himself everywhere. Would he stroke himself as he lathered? Was he stroking himself now? But going down that road...exploring any of those questions would just lead to trouble. He was trouble. Hot, sexy, serious trouble. The trouble that made her drop her guard and lose her reason and she had adorable little Jax as proof. “So, no. Not interested in washing your back. Or anything else.”
“Should we talk about the wedding then?”
“Rowan.”
“Jax is expecting brothers and sisters.”
“Then Jax is going to be disappointed,” she answered firmly.
“And what if you are pregnant?”
She really didn’t want to think about that. She wasn’t pregnant. She couldn’t be pregnant.
But he had gotten her pregnant the first time they were together. It could happen again.
“We have to use protection from now on,” she said firmly. “We can’t take these risks.”
“I was thinking we’d get married tomorrow. Jax should be there, of course—”
“No!”
“It’s her dream.”
“It’s also her dream to be a fairy and fly, but that isn’t going to happen, either.”
“You have no sense of adventure.”
He was such a jerk.
Taking a breath for courage, she entered the steamy bathroom. It was a modern bathroom with stylish finishes—marble everywhere, even up to the high ceiling, a huge mirror running the length of a double vanity, and a shower the size of a walk-in closet, the spacious marble shower outfitted with multiple heads to give him an overhead soak as well as a full body spray.
Rowan was standing directly under one of the faucets, dark head tipped back, muscular arm lifted as he ran fingers through his hair, rinsing the shampoo out. His thick biceps was bunched and his flat, hard abdomen was a perfect six pack.
The man was too attractive.
He opened his eyes and looked at her. “You’re sure you don’t want to wash my...something?” His green eyes glimmered.
“No.”
“Fine. But do you mind if I do?” he asked pouring body wash into his hand.
Her eyes widened.
Laughing softly he spread the liquid across his chest and then streaked it down his stomach, and then lower to his cock, which was coming to life.
“I did not come in here for a peep show,” she said sternly.
“Just trying to get clean, love.”
She grimaced, and looked away, not wanting him to know that it was fascinating watching his shaft spring to life and even more fascinat
ing to see how he held it, fisting the length, paying special attention to the thick knob at the end.
And she knew how he was gripping his erection by the reflection in the clear glass shower doors as those hadn’t fogged up.
“What’s going on with my sister?” she asked, trying to focus on what was important.
“Why didn’t you see her for a couple years?” he asked.
From her position she could see his reflection continue to work the soap over his erection. He was slowly, firmly stroking down, working his hand up over the head. Her breath caught in her throat. She squirmed on the inside. “Um,” she said, unable to think clearly. “Because I was pregnant...”
“Right.” He was stroking down again, the muscles in his forearm cording.
God, he was sexy.
Awful. And sexy. Awfully sexy. Damn him. She dragged in a breath. “So...what’s your point?”
“Think about what I’m saying.”
“I can’t. Not when you’re doing...that.”
“I knew you were watching.” His deep voice was even huskier now than it had been a few moments ago. “Do you want to watch me finish?”
“No!” And then she turned around quickly to look at him. “Are you really going to come?”
His gaze met hers, and one dark eyebrow lifted. “Is that a problem?”
“It just seems...rude...since I’m standing right here.”
“You’re in my bathroom.”
“You invited me in.”
“Because you wanted to come in. You were curious. Admit it.”
“I wasn’t,” she protested and then realized he’d stopped handling himself. He still had a huge erection, but he was rinsing off the suds and lather, and then turning off the water.
She glanced uneasily at his erection. “You’re just going to leave that, that way?”
“Yes.” He leaned out of the shower and grabbed a plush towel from the rack.
“But doesn’t it hurt?”
“Not that much.”
She couldn’t stop looking at him, watching as Rowan dragged the towel over his face, mopping his dark hair and then down his body.