by Robyn Roze
Frank sucked in air and exhaled loudly in exasperation.
“I know that things are difficult for his business right now. He’s hardly alone. I also know that he has a new business loan in process, as you’ve no doubt read about in your file. It’d be a shame if someone with the means and connections manipulated the delay or pressed for the disapproval of those loan documents. If that were to happen, I suppose I’d consider stepping in to help him out with his dream.” Her eyes bored into his. “I’ve done it before—haven’t I, Frank? You certainly had no problem taking my money.” Her hand abruptly cut through the air to halt him when he moved to speak. “Look how that turned out. I’d say I have a nose for smart investments, wouldn’t you?” Shayna thrummed her fingers on the leather armrests as she sat casually in the wingback. Frank glowered at her.
“Have I missed anything, Frank? Anything important?”
He released a jagged exhalation. “Just how long have you known this guy, Shay?”
A soft curve inched up one corner of her mouth. She read his expression and shook her head in disbelief. “What’d you think, Frank? That’d I’d only known him for a hot minute?”
“How long, Shayna?” he gritted out, with restrained anger.
Her eyes widened with understanding. “You’re worried that—what? I was cheating on you while we were married?” She started laughing uncontrollably, then bit her lips together to stem the bubbly flow. “Oh, wouldn’t that be rich.” She relaxed back in her chair and held his fierce stare, giving nothing away. “I think I’ll just let you wonder about that. It’s more fun that way. For me at least.”
Frank slammed his palm down on the desk and shot up out of his seat, walking to the large, well-appointed sitting area with all of its mounted flat panels airing various muted news channels. He jammed his hands into his pants pockets, rattling coins and keys, as he rocked slightly from heel to toe, panning his gaze out over Mt. Pleasant—the city he had built.
Without turning to look at her, he said in a low, even tone, “I’ve always credited you for believing in me when no one else did. For helping me when no one else would. I’ve never pretended that I did this alone.” He paused. “We did this,” he said triumphantly, sweeping his hands across the panoramic view of Mt. Pleasant.
He was right. He had always been generous in his praise where she was concerned. He used we, ours, us, rarely I or me when talking about the business. However, the design and scope of the sprawling city, the vision, reflected him, not her.
“Did you marry me because of the money you knew I had back then? Is that why you’re so concerned about another man doing the same thing?” she asked with complete, humble sincerity.
The look on his face turned to stupefaction. He strode briskly back to his desk. She could tell he wanted to touch her, hold her hands, but he refrained. Instead he sat partially on the edge of his desk, with his hands clasped together. She could see that her question had hurt him to the core. His blue eyes swung away and he shook his head.
In a ragged breath he answered, “No. No.” He rubbed hard at his eyes and pulled his hand roughly down his face before looking at her. The anguish in his eyes tugged at her heart—the trap laid by time coming back into focus once again.
She glanced away, breaking the connection. “It’s just something I’ve wondered about the past few years, that’s all,” she said soberly, the wind sucked from her sails.
When he spoke next, it was with a tone of regret and tenderness. “Shayna, we’ve built something remarkable here, and I’m not just talking about the city. There’s no reason we can’t build it back up. It’ll take time. I know that. But our history is strong, it’s substantial. We made a helluva team, you and me. There’s no reason that we can’t work our way back to that. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, Shay. Not with words—with actions. Let me prove it to you. Give me the chance to show you.”
Shayna trembled from the feel of his words, thick with profound emotion, touching her as if with his hands. She hesitated for a few moments, contemplating surrendering to the comfort and familiarity of the past...the devil she knew. But then she shook the settling fog out of her head and sidestepped the serrated trap that would be so easy to fall into, that would cut her again.
“You don’t have that kind of time, Frank, and the reason you don’t have what you claim to want so badly, is sitting on her inappropriately attired ass right outside your door,” she said with mounting anger. Shayna grabbed her clutch and stood to leave.
Frank called out as she made her way to the door. “I know you still love me, Shay. I can see it in your eyes—just now and yesterday. That’s why you’ve done everything possible to avoid me this whole time. You know if we actually spent time together, talked, tried to work through it, you’d want the same thing. And that’s what you’re scared of. It’s easy to write people off when you avoid them, when you refuse to let them make amends.”
Shayna huffed at his calculated dig and she pivoted slowly to face him.
In a calm, cold tone she asked, “Who are you talking about, Frank? You? Or my mother? Maybe it’s both. You’re both consummate liars. I love how I’m the bad guy when it’s you that hurt me. For some reason people think I’m obligated to give second chances, just because some liar wants one. It doesn’t work that way, not for me, and you’ve always known that.”
Frank stood and, through clenched teeth, fiercely warned, “History is a powerful thing, Shayna. We have a lot of it, and you should be more respectful of it. Don’t think for a second that I’m just going to walk away quietly.”
Her back stiffened at the echo of the words Sean had spoken the night before. She exhaled, sharply, and then deliberately stalked toward Frank.
“You’re right, Frank,” she said tenderly, as she reflexively reached out, brushed her hand down his silk tie and then adjusted and straightened it. “History is a powerful thing.” She smoothed the rumpled fabric at his broad shoulders and then looked him squarely in the eyes. “The important thing is knowing when not to repeat it.” She patted his cheek firmly and turned, walking away. Opening the door wide, she turned back and warned icily, “Stay out of my life, because if I have to come back here, I won’t play nice next time.”
Purposely leaving the door open, she strolled by Brittany’s desk and announced, “Take some advice from a woman old enough to be your mother. When you get to my age, which will happen much sooner than you think, you’re going to realize that you were young for all of about ten minutes of your whole life. Don’t trade your youth for the promises and predilections of an old man. Trust me, they’ll change—and there will always be someone younger willing to make the deal.”
Brittany’s eyes widened. Shayna turned to see Frank standing in his doorway, his features contorted in a furious expression. She smiled coldly, inclining her head at him, and then turned, bidding farewell to George and Robert, who stood open-mouthed nearby as she sashayed past them.
****
“Did you have a good day?” Sean asked, as Shayna perused the evening specials. “I know I have. I particularly liked the way it started,” he said, with heat in his voice and an amorous expression, as she glanced up from her menu.
He had a grin, impossible to wipe from his face, and it was infectious. Oh, she couldn’t disagree with him. She wished every day could begin the same way.
“Sorry you were late getting to the gym,” he said unconvincingly, as his hand snaked up under her silky gray dress. She shifted and squeezed her thighs around his large, strong hand under the privacy of the linen-draped table.
“I’m not sorry,” she said sexily. Sean’s brows raised and he smiled warmly. “Besides, I think it may be time to switch gyms anyway.” She sipped her sparkling water as his fingers gently teased her through her lacy, silk panties.
“Really?” He looked at her for a moment and then nodded. “Yeah, I think you should do that. I liked having you with me this morning at mine. We could make it part of our morning
routine,” he said, kissing her cheek and curving his hand to cup her soft, heated mound.
Just then, the server came to the table and Sean deftly removed his concealed hand, unnoticed by the waiting attendant.
“Are you ready to order?
“Hi, Jenny,” Shayna said with a smile. “I’ll have the chicken and truffle tortellacci, thank you.”
“Salmon,” Sean said handing the menus to his staff member. Shay squeezed more lime into her water and Sean sipped his white wine. “So, what’d you do today after we parted ways?” he asked, clasping her hand and sweeping his thumb across her skin.
A basket of herb and kalamata focaccia with seasoned olive oil appeared on the table.
“Oh, well, let’s see. I attended a charity meeting, went for a bike ride in the hills, stopped by the grocers, read the paper,” she paused, “and paid a surprise visit to my ex at his office.”
Sean noticeably stiffened, his hand slipping away from hers and onto his lap.
“Why’d you do that, Shay? I don’t want you in the middle of this. I can handle it myself.” His eyes narrowed and his lips tightened.
“Oh, I know you can. Really, I do,” she said, looking at him pointedly. “I just felt like catching him off-guard, the way he did me yesterday, that’s all. I had some things to say. I hope that’ll be the end of it.”
She tore away a piece of warm bread and dipped it sparingly in the seasoned oil.
“I’d rather you didn’t see him at all, Shay.” There was a hard look in his eyes and an edge in his tone.
She eyed him as she chewed her bread and then swallowed.
“Sean, Frank and I share a daughter. We’ll always have that connection and there’ll be occasions when we’ll see each other, when we’ll need to come together for her. You know that.”
Sean sat back against the booth and assessed her for a few moments.
“Of course, I know that. I just really want you to limit it to those types of occasions, that’s all,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.
Shayna puffed softly. What had Frank said during his private chat with Sean last night? She already knew it wouldn’t do any good to ask him again. He would just refuse to answer and change the subject, as he had last night. Shaking her head slightly, she broke his stare and turned to pick up her glass, taking a drink of sparkling citrus water. She didn’t want to talk about Frank anymore. As she moved to tear off more focaccia, a warm hand covered and held hers.
“What’re you doing this weekend?” Sean asked, with a softened tone.
A playful grin inched along Shayna’s lips. “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me what I’ll be doing?” She looked at him provocatively.
His fingertips brushed the side of her face, the gleam in his eyes evident. “Saturday night I’m taking you out to eat—not telling you where.” He grinned, mischievously, and lightly skimmed his thumb across her lower lip. “Then we’re going dancing and heading back to my place. You’ll be spending the night, so pack a bag. Then in the morning, after we’ve hit the gym and had breakfast, we’re going to head down to the marina. I’m taking you out on my boat. We can stop anywhere you want. There’s all kinds of great little places we can stop to eat or shop—the quirky kind.” He nuzzled against her ear. “I know how much you love that sort of thing.” They giggled softly against each other. “With the weather forecast, it looks like we’ll be spending the night on the water.”
Shayna’s brows rose quickly. “I’m spending two nights in a row with you?” It sounded perfect to her.
“To start with,” he said dreamily, with his irresistible bedroom eyes.
Red-hot heat pooled between her legs and the familiar throbbing began knocking impatiently.
She narrowed her eyes and teased, “Well, it’s definitely worth considering. I’ll think about it and get back to you with my answer.”
Sean quickly cupped her chin and kissed her.
Easing back, he whispered determinedly, “Your answer is, yes.” He winked and she nodded faintly. Just then, their entrées appeared in front of them.
Shayna inhaled deeply. “Oh, that smells delicious,” she moaned. “I think Skip’s outdone himself tonight,” she said exuberantly, as she spread her linen napkin across her lap, her mouth watering and ready for the creamy truffle sauce.
Sean chuckled beside her. “Should I be concerned about you and Skip?” he asked, in jest. “I know you like a man who can cook.”
She placed her fork back down on the plate and skimmed her hand along his square, shadowed jaw line and kissed him deeply.
Whispering against his lips, she cooed seductively, “I have no doubt you’ll be outdoing yourself later.”
CHAPTER 11
Shayna reclined on the aft deck of the boat, watching Sean inside at the helm. He was busy getting them settled for the night, and was running the motor that lowered the anchor to the muddy bottom of the protected bay. It was a perfect location to spend the night gently rocked to sleep under the stars.
She breathed in deeply, stretching like a cat, and let out a deep exhale, smiling contentedly. The last two days with Sean felt like the bubble of a honeymoon. Nobody else existed, and they were the masters of their own universe, where it felt like anything was possible. Shayna hadn’t felt like that in thirty years, had never expected to again. She had chalked it up to the intensity and inexperience of youth, the first time she felt this way. But here she was in the present, feeling giddy, excited, and anxious to know what came next while not wanting to miss what was happening right now.
She noticed Sean run his hand through his wavy, dark hair as he scrutinized the navigation and weather screens laid out in front of him. When he had told her that he was taking her out on his boat, she’d thought he’d meant his sailboat. However, he had intentionally kept quiet about the scale of the Tuscan Dream, hoping to surprise her with it at some point. And that he did. The forty-foot cruiser yacht was beautiful, with its upper and lower salons, skylights, and full-beam master stateroom with a queen-sized island berth. The design was open and contemporary, with stainless steel accents, and a richly toned wenge wood interior.
He had taken them across Lake Indigo to the Seneca River, where they converged with other water traffic. From there, they docked at marinas, going ashore to tour quaint little towns, window shop, eat local fare and just enjoy each other’s company at their leisure. Now they were back on Lake Indigo, and the stars did their best to compete for attention with the glare of city life in Mt. Pleasant.
“Do you want to go inside?”
Shayna chased her idle thoughts away, and brought her eyes to focus on the handsome man in front of her.
“No, not right now. I like it out here. The stars. The soft breeze,” she said, closing her eyes and inhaling as the night air feathered against and tickled her skin.
She heard a soft chuckle and felt Sean moving her forward so that he could wedge behind her and into the corner of the sumptuously padded L-shaped seating, pulling her back to rest between his legs and against his strong chest. His hands held hers, and he circled his arms tightly around her as he brushed his chin near her temple.
“The last two days have been great, Shay. I needed this. I don’t do it nearly enough.”
“Has it been killing you not checking in with Dolph Lundgren?” she teased with a gentle giggle that rippled against him.
Sean had recently hired a General Manager so that he could have a life outside of Gaetano’s. The new man’s name was Johan Svensson, and he added even further to the charm of the Mediterranean restaurant with his uber Scandinavian good looks. From what Shayna could tell, he alone had increased the female foot traffic to the Italian restaurant.
Sean sighed resignedly, and lifted her chin up, kissing and quickly nipping at her lower lip.
“Well, I know how you love quirks, so I couldn’t pass him up. His outstanding resume and references were just a bonus and only marginally important in my decision,” he joked, shaking his head and smili
ng.
“The ladies certainly love him,” Shayna remarked.
“Oh, I’ve noticed. My female staff’s been tripping over themselves around him.” He squeezed her closer and whispered playfully, “Hopefully, you’re immune to his charms.”
Shayna shrugged. “So far. Right now my thing is Italian men with the last name Parker, who take me out on their boats for the weekend.”
“Right now, huh?” He tugged at her ear lobe with his teeth.
“Yeah, you know, that whole ‘living in the moment’ thing,” she teased, pulling his arms tighter around her.
“Do you think there will ever be a moment when you’ll want something permanent again?”
She could feel his warm breath against her skin and the beating of his heart against her back.
“You mean—marriage?”
He nodded his head next to hers.
She thought about it briefly and then shook her head. “Twice is enough for me. I think my chain of title is already long enough.”
Sean stiffened against her and he seemed to have stopped breathing.
“Twice? Chain of title? What’re you talking about?”
Of course! He only knew about Frank. Why would he have ever thought she had been married before, when she was even younger? She sighed wistfully, as the old ache returned to her heart and she prepared to dig the past out from the back of the deep dark closet of her life.
“I married my first husband—my first love—when I was nineteen...”
Then it was as if the inky darkness in front of her lit up like a movie screen, and she watched it all unfold in front of her.
“We met our first week at college.” Shayna laughed softly at the memory. “He ran into me in the cafeteria—literally—wasn’t watching where he was going, and both our trays and everything on them ended up scattered and rolling across the floor. He apologized profusely and helped pick up the mess and then...well, and then we were never apart after that. The attraction was instant, intense, and everything else followed very quickly. We married the summer after our freshman year.”