“Come home with me,” Henry panted, breaking the kiss.
“I can’t,” Victoria said breathlessly.
Intoxicating blue eyes bore into her. “You’re running.”
I have to go—now! This is dangerous. He is dangerous.
Pride stood in her way. She’d never allow him to think her a coward. Slowly, she shook her head. “I’m not running.”
“Then stay,” he challenged.
“It’s late,” she protested. “And in case you’ve forgotten, we’re enemies.”
“Excuses.” Henry brushed a finger over her bottom lip.
It took all of Victoria’s strength not to suck it into her mouth and feast on it.
“I dare you to defy the chemistry between us,” Henry continued. “Tell me you don’t want me as much as I want you.”
Clamping her eyes shut, Victoria remained mute, willing herself not to get swept away in his blue abyss.
“Tell me,” he demanded.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “It’s a moot point. Nothing good will come of it.”
“This attraction has a life of its own. I don’t think either of us can stop it.”
Breathing deeply, Victoria stepped backward. “We don’t have a choice. We have to stop it.” Hating every minute of it, she removed the jacket and thrust it out to him.
Henry frowned. “Please, keep the jacket.”
It hung from her shaking fingers, dangling between them.
“Very well,” he said, his voice sounding defeated. He accepted the jacket from Victoria’s proffered hand, his fingers lingering momentarily over hers. Then he moved toward the Toyota, opening the driver’s side door.
Victoria lowered her body onto the driver’s seat, flinching as Henry promptly closed the door. Victoria’s mind waged war against her heart. Just one night. She hesitated before turning the key in the ignition. No. One night in Henry’s arms would never be enough.
Chapter 12
Henry
Henry slapped at the nightstand, searching for his cell phone. It vibrated against the wooden surface—for the fourth fucking time in five minutes. He grabbed it from the table, frowning when he looked at the time, and placed it to his ear. “What?”
“We need to talk,” Diego’s commanding voice boomed.
It was way too early for this interrogation shit. It was Sunday morning, for fuck’s sake! He’d known his father would be hounding him for details about the gala, but this was ridiculous. Stretching his arms above his head, Henry yawned, slurring his words. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Business never sleeps, Henrique.”
Henry pushed himself into a seated position, the satin sheet rippling over his waist. He rolled his neck from side to side until the stiffness left. “It’s 5:30 in the fucking morning.”
“Did you not hear what I said the first time? Time doesn’t wait for anyone. Not even you, pretty boy.”
Henry scuffed his feet toward the bathroom. With his cell phone set to speaker, he placed it on the edge of the sink and braced his arms on the counter. He squinted into the mirror before splashing cold water on his face. Then he stared at his naked reflection for a few moments before flexing his muscles. “Well, it’s going to have to. I need to go to the gym first.”
“One morning without the gym won’t deter the ladies from spreading their legs open for you.”
“Do I have your permission to jump into the shower first, sir?” Henry asked sarcastically.
“Make it quick,” Diego commanded, and then the line went dead.
A HALF HOUR AFTER HIS father’s phone call, Henry punched in the code to the security gate, allowing him access to the more than 15,000 square foot private estate. At this time of the morning, the palatial property was quite intimidating as the sun rose, creating a breathtaking backdrop. Rough and gray, the ocean’s waves slammed against the tall sea wall, a misty haze spraying above the stones in its wake.
His foot barely down on the gas pedal, Henry took in his surroundings. Why the fuck does he need a tennis court? Father can barely walk up a flight of stairs. Seriously? He thinks he’s going to play tennis? Henry thought as he drove past the carriage house that preceded the six-car garage. And who the fuck needs six cars? He parked the Lamborghini directly in front of the elaborate front door, disregarding the twenty spaces set aside for parking, and stepped out onto the circular driveway.
Eager to get out of the cold, Henry jogged up the front steps and unlocked the door, using the spare key his father had forced on him when he arrived in Rhode Island. Breathtaking—yes. Spacious—yes. But not fucking big enough, Henry mused as he stepped into the foyer. Had he’d agreed to reside in the eleven-bedroom, eight-bathroom estate, as his father had tried to bully him into doing, he’d never have a moment’s peace.
Muffled voices and the clang of pots and pans came from the kitchen. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted into the foyer. Henry walked down the hallway, stopping outside the open French doors. At the head of an excessively long table, his father was seated in a high-backed chair.
“About time you arrived,” Diego said, never removing his eyes from the morning’s edition of The Ocean Point Insider.
Scowling, Henry stifled his comeback as he yanked a chair away from the dining room table. It squeaked loudly across the hardwood floor, the grating sound giving him immense pleasure when he saw his father’s fingers clench around the newspaper.
Diego lowered the newspaper beneath his nose. Squished into an oversized captain’s chair, at the head of the massive mahogany table, he returned Henry’s piercing glare.
Just then, a petite housekeeper scurried through the doorway, carrying a coffee pot in hand. Her kind, chocolate eyes settled on Henry, and she smiled. “Oh, Mr. Henry. It’s so good to see you this morning. I’ll be right back with the biggest mug I can find. I know how much you love your coffee.”
“Not necessary, Patrice,” Henry said. “I think I can find my way to the kitchen.”
The matronly housekeeper patted Henry’s shoulder. “Have I told you how happy I am that you’ve relocated to Newport?”
Henry placed his hand over hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. “About a dozen times.”
Diego raised one bushy, gray eyebrow and cleared his throat. “Patrice,” he interrupted, his tone menacing. “I don’t employ you to socialize. I pay you to get my son his mug.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” the housekeeper answered somberly.
Henry glowered at his father. “You’re lucky she stays on. She should’ve quit years ago.”
“Where else is she going to go? She’s no spring chicken.” The newspaper crinkled loudly as Diego folded it. “Come to think of it, it may be time I replaced her.”
“That would be a grave mistake,” Henry answered icily.
Diego sneered, his eyes shifting toward the doorway as Patrice returned. Placing the mug before Henry, she picked up the sterling silver pot and poured the freshly brewed coffee almost to the brim. “Will this be enough room for you to add your cream and sugar?”
“Where is our breakfast?” Diego demanded before Henry could respond.
Patrice jumped, her body stiffening as Diego questioned her. “I’ll check with the cook, sir. It must be almost done.” She slid the cream and sugar beside Henry and then scampered from the room.
“Let me remind you that Patrice has been a faithful employee since before I was born. You have no right to treat her so harshly.”
“As long as she freely chooses to be my paid servant and resides in my home, I have every right to treat Patrice and anyone else who prospers from my employ as I damn well see fit.”
Henry thanked God he’d had the good sense to rent an apartment six miles away. When he’d agreed to move to Rhode Island, he knew living with his father would have tried his patience. Had he submitted to his father’s wishes and resided at the mansion, he was sure they’d never speak again. Living under separate roofs offered him at least a few moments of
peace and privacy.
“Have you convinced Helen Carrington to support our cause?”
“No time for casual conversation this morning, Father?”
Dark blue eyes, mirror images of his own, leered at him. “Not when there is a multibillion-dollar land investment on the line.”
Patrice returned to the dining room with plates loaded with scrambled eggs, toast, potatoes, bacon, and fresh fruit. “The strawberry preserves and the grape jam are both on the table along with the butter. Is there anything else I can get for you?”
“No, thank you. You have done quite enough,” Henry answered.
Diego waited for the door to close behind the housekeeper before he continued with his inquisition. “I have it on good authority that Helen Carrington left the gala alone.”
“And that means...” Henry shoved a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth.
“It means that you better not have messed this up. I heard that you got in rather early last night.”
“What business is it of yours what time I got in?” He took a swig of the steaming hot coffee. It scalded him as it flooded down his throat.
“Don’t look so insulted, my boy. I am simply making sure it was worth the risk to have hired you.”
Henry’s stomach turned, the eggs sitting in his belly like lead. “Do you consider my introduction to Senator Murdoch a fuck-up?”
“That remains to be seen.”
“He invited me, along with Ms. Carrington, to a dinner meeting.”
“Is that so?” Diego scratched his chin. “That’s good, very good. I was concerned that you may have been distracted by the pretty blonde you’ve been keeping company with.”
Henry slammed his coffee cup onto the table. He jolted to his feet, the chair smashing to the floor. “You son of a bitch. You’ve stuck a fucking private investigator on me, haven’t you?”
“Do you blame me?” Diego tore the strip of bacon between his teeth, chewing slowly.
Henry twisted his lip and sneered. “She just happens to be the blonde who is holding out on signing over her house.”
“Victoria Hathaway,” Diego answered smugly.
“Yes, Victoria Hathaway.” Henry shoved himself from the table. “She also happens to be a nice woman. Unfortunately, as you’ve taught me since birth, nice people finish last. I’d like to at least see her get a decent settlement since we’re ripping everything she holds dear away from her.”
“How noble of you. I do suggest you remember where your loyalty lies.”
The hairs stood out on the back of his neck. “Fuck you,” Henry hissed and stormed from the dining room, heedless of his father’s warning.
Victoria
Victoria heard the latch click as the front door of the Literary Ladies’ Book Nook and Café opened, the bell chiming as Jennifer stepped into the bookshop. She’d called earlier to say she was running about twenty minutes late, but it wasn’t a problem. Victoria had assisted her enough times to know how to prep the café for opening.
“Hey, lady. Thanks for getting things started.” Face flushed from the ice-cold morning, Jennifer whipped the fluffy, purple coat off her shoulders, followed by a matching scarf, mittens, and hat. “You aren’t going to believe what happened.”
Victoria looked up as she emptied the dishwasher and grinned when her gaze met with Jennifer’s animated aqua-blue eyes. “I’m not?”
“Things are finally starting to go my way.” Jennifer mussed her shaggy bob and hung her coat in the closet. Dressed in a red off-the-shoulder, body-hugging sweater, black faux leather pants, and large silver hoops, Jennifer teetered toward Victoria. “Andre said he may consider taking night courses to become a lawyer,” she said, perching her hip against the glass display case filled with baked goods.
“Oh, Jenn,” Victoria said, unsure about this recent development. “Andre loves being a cop.”
“He does.” Jennifer shrugged one shoulder. “But he loves me more.”
“Do you really believe he’ll be happy as a lawyer?” Victoria asked. “I know that the two of you always fought about him putting himself in harm’s way. But do you really think he won’t grow to resent you after he gives up a career he loves?”
Scowling, Jennifer moved toward a case of kitchen supplies and began to unload them. “You think he loves his job more than me?”
Victoria shook her head. “Absolutely not. I’m not saying this to be mean. I just want you to think about what you’re asking of him. We’ve known Andre since middle school. He’s always desired only two things: you and a career as a cop.”
Jennifer was silent for a moment, her expression contemplative. “I’ll just have to make sure Andre is happy being a lawyer by rewarding him each night for not putting himself in danger. Besides, he’ll still be helping people,” Jennifer rationalized.
“I see.” Victoria played with the buttons of her Irish knit cardigan sweater. “You’re going to use sex to get what you want.”
“It’s not like I’m torturing him.” She grinned slyly, clicking a French-manicured nail against her pearly white teeth. “I’ll let him cuff me.”
“Jenn!” Victoria’s hand flew to her mouth, her fingers splayed across her lips to stifle her laughter.
“His cousins from Louisiana are stopping in town tonight on their way to Canada. Andre invited me to celebrate a pre-Christmas dinner with his family,” Jennifer said, her voice laden with dread.
“That’s fantastic.”
“Yeah, but I’ll miss Lilly’s performance in the ballet tonight.”
“Oh...that’s right,” Victoria said, noting the disappointment on Jennifer’s face.
“Maybe I should tell Andre I can’t go. This is such a big deal for Lilly.”
“And so is having dinner with your future husband’s family.”
“Let’s not go that far. You’re rushing things a bit too fast.”
“All right, I won’t, but don’t let anything get in the way of your relationship. The two of you belong together,” Victoria said.
“But what should I say to Lilly? She fought so hard for this.”
“I wonder if Diana Sousa would like your ticket. She told me that The Nutcracker sold out before she was able to reserve one.”
“That would be cool. At least, I’d know that someone enjoyed it. Otherwise, it will be such a waste of a perfectly good ticket.” Jennifer shrugged. “This really stinks. There are 365 days in a year; why did they have to pick tonight to stop in town?”
Victoria nodded toward the door. “Look who’s here.”
“Do you think she’ll hate me?” Jennifer whispered as Lilly Taylor bounced into the bookstore wearing a knitted hat tied under her chin, a white padded coat, and matching gloves.
“I guess you’d better ask her yourself. But I doubt it.”
“Hi, Vicki! Hi, Jenn!” the child exclaimed.
Victoria smiled warmly at the adorable little girl. “Good morning, Lilly.” Victoria nodded toward the child’s mother. “Hello, Mrs. Taylor.”
“Morning,” Mrs. Taylor answered, fiddling with her windswept hair. “I promised I’d let Lilly pick out a book if she got an A in her math cl—”
“I got four A’s and two B’s on my report card,” Lilly interrupted.
“That’s wonderful,” Victoria answered. “With all that hard work, you’ll want to pick out something extra special.”
“Come with me, kiddo. You, too, Mrs. Taylor. There are some gingerbread men and sugar cookies that I made yesterday afternoon in need of sampling,” Jennifer said, motioning toward the café. “Besides, I’ve got something important to discuss with both of you.”
“Lilly has a passion for desserts. I’m sure she’ll put her sweet tooth to good use as she conducts the taste test,” Mrs. Taylor told Victoria as, hand in hand, Lilly skipped beside Jennifer, their arms bouncing up and down. “I guess I’d better follow them. If I don’t supervise, Lilly is bound to sample one of everything in the café.”
A little whil
e later, arctic air wafted through the front door, rustling the covers of the magazines that lay on a nearby shelf. Rubbing his hands together for warmth, Henry sauntered through the door, straight toward Victoria.
“Vicki!” Lilly swerved in front of Henry, cutting him off before he could reach the desk.
“Lilly! Use your manners,” Mrs. Taylor scolded.
“Look what I found.” Reaching above her head, Lilly’s skinny arms shook from the weight of the hardcover edition of Grimm’s Fairy Tales as she attempted to heft it onto the desktop.
“Let me help you with that.” Henry scooped the exuberant child up and deposited her onto the edge of the desk. “That’s one big book you’ve got there. It’s almost as big as you are.”
“I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Taylor interjected. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her today.”
“No worries. I’d be excited, too, if I’d found that book.” Henry flashed one of his heart-stopping smiles.
Victoria rolled her eyes. Dear Lord, he never quits, she thought, perturbed by the sudden flush that crept over Mrs. Taylor’s face.
“It’s super big, isn’t it? It has a bunch of stories in it.” Lilly swung her feet, the heels of her snow boots lightly tapping against the solid oak.
“It’s huge. I think you made an excellent choice, my friend.” Victoria’s heart fluttered as she noticed the sparkle in Henry’s eye. It was clear he found the child as irresistible as she.
“I’ll be back in just a second.” Heading toward the circular display rack, Victoria swore she could feel the heat of Henry’s stare blazing through her. As she perused the rack, searching for an extra-special bookmark as a gift for Lilly, she eavesdropped on their conversation.
“Do you read a lot?” Henry asked.
“Yes!” Lilly smiled up at him, her toothless grin revealing the recent loss of two front teeth. “I love to read. Especially when I’m in the hospital.”
Confusion etched his face. “The hospital?”
“Uh-huh.” Seemingly unaffected by his concern, Lilly continued to prattle on about books, school, and friends.
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