by Hayden Wolfe
He eased back and caught her gaze. “As much as I’d enjoy making love to you again, we’ve already spent most of the day in bed.”
She glanced at the clock. Her eyes widened. “Five. It’s already five.”
She pushed at his shoulder. He let her up but drew her against his chest before she could escape. “Yeah, and Mama’s expecting us for dinner at six.” Well, she was expecting him. Ronnie would be a surprise.
She tensed. “I can’t go to your parents’ house.”
He ran his hand over her mussed hair in an effort to calm her. “Why not? My mom loves you.”
She jerked her head to the side and gave him an incredulous look. “Sure, she had. That was before I dumped you. It wouldn’t surprise me if she lunged at me with a dinner fork now.”
“Nah, she understands.” He worked his jaw. Hopefully. “We were young.”
“But I don’t want to mislead her. I’d hate for her to think we’re getting back together.”
He twirled a lock of her hair and brought it to his nose. The scent of his shampoo filled his lungs. Familiar, much like the woman he held.
“Dinner, Ronnie. That’s all I’m asking for, not marriage.” He grabbed several bags from the floor and dropped them on the bed next to her. “I had Wyn stop at the store to get you some clothes. He guessed at sizes, so hopefully there’s something that’ll fit.”
She looked inside and pulled out a lacy, hot-pink bra. “There are enough clothes in here for a week.”
“Yeah, Wyn said it’ll be three or four days until he can get the part in to fix the Shelby.”
His brother had better go along with the ruse or fists would fly. Kyle hadn’t thought of the excuse until after Wyn had left. His brother had tossed the bags on the kitchen table, thrown his hands up in the air, and claimed he didn’t know what women liked so he’d gotten one of everything. Worked to Kyle’s advantage, even if it put a dent in his budget. As long as it kept Ronnie in his house longer, he’d live on mac and cheese for the next month.
“You need something to wear until then, right?”
The bra slipped from her fingers. “Little Wyn fixes cars?”
He chuckled. “Little Wyn is taller than me. He’s also twenty-five and head repairman at the automotive shop.”
“Levi and Jack are thirty, then.” Sadness clouded her eyes. “Do they still live in Sander’s Valley?”
“Of course.”
“Married?”
He snorted. “None of us are. It’s been a point of contention with Mama ever since you left me. She always said you were her only shot at grandbabies because the rest of her boys were pig-headed fools.”
She laughed, but it never reached her eyes. “I do miss your family. They made me feel as if I was a part of it.”
He knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. “You are.”
“Were. Past tense. I left, remember?”
“Why did you?” He regretted the words as soon as they’d left his mouth. Couldn’t take them back, however. He held his breath and waited on her answer.
She shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?”
“Don’t I deserve to know what I did wrong?” So he didn’t do it again.
She leaned close and kissed his cheek. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Kyle. You were the perfect boyfriend. You just weren’t the man I wanted to marry.” She eased back and held his gaze. “I knew you’d gotten me a ring, so I left. I couldn’t bear telling you no.”
“You loved me.” It was lame, but it was all he had to say.
“Yes, I did.” She stood, grabbed the bags, and made her way to the bathroom. At the doorway, she stopped but didn’t face him. “I’m sorry for what I did. I should’ve told you, but I knew you’d seduce me and before I realized it, I’d be wearing your ring.”
The door closed, blocking her from him in more ways than one.
“You just weren’t the man I wanted to marry.”
He was screwed. He didn’t know how to be anyone else.
Kyle drove slower than normal. He wanted to get a few more answers out of Ronnie before his family sequestered her.
“Tell me about the break-in.” He cut her a quick glance. She tensed. “Everybody will ask once they see those bruises, and I want to know the details first.”
“Armed robbery, just like I’d said.” She laid a hand on his thigh. “Don’t worry. The guy’s behind bars, and I have the security company redoing all of our alarm systems. It was an unfortunate one-off.”
“Tell me what happened. All the details.”
“Mom and I were working late.” She glanced at him from under her lashes. “We hadn’t bothered to lock up. Foolish, I know. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about that night and wished I’d done something different.”
“You can’t beat yourself up over the what-ifs. It’s done.”
“I know. Regret doesn’t change anything.” Her gaze drifted over him before she stared at her hands fisted on her lap. “Anyway, my mom thought he was a customer, so she went to greet him. He shot her, then came after me.” She squeezed her eyes closed. “I hit him with a sculpture and called the cops.”
His chest tightened. He couldn’t drag in a damn breath. The sense of trepidation gripped him again. He shook his head to clear it. She’d survived, bruised but alive. He had no reason for the slithering chill turning his blood to ice.
“And the PI? What do you need one of those for?”
“That’s personal.” She sighed. “At the reading of my mom’s will, she’d left instructions for me to take stuff out to my dad.”
“You told me that already. What does a bunch of paintings have to do with you needing a PI?”
“Nothing.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and worried the tender flesh. “She also said she’d left me a letter that would explain some scandal involving me she’d wanted to keep hidden.”
“Jesus.” There was only one scandal he could think of that would include Ronnie. “She cheated on your dad.”
She dipped her head—not a nod exactly, more of an expression of defeat. “Mom had several lovers over the years, the most famous being Gerald Volkova, a famous Russian artist who had ties to the Russian royalty.”
“Russian royalty?” A faint memory of a documentary he’d watched when he’d been snowed in during a blizzard surfaced. He cursed. “The family that was murdered?”
“Yes. That family. Gerald’s related to them distantly, from what I understand. Through a surviving sister or aunt, maybe?” She shrugged. “Not sure exactly. I never really cared.”
“I’m assuming he’s rich?”
She nodded. “Very. He also gifted my mom with several pieces of his collection before he died a couple of months ago. Very, very valuable pieces that his wife never knew about until his death.”
Great. This got better and better.
He took a deep breath to calm his anger. The more he learned about Ronnie’s mom, the less he liked her. “I’m guessing Gerald’s wife didn’t know he was sleeping with your mother.”
“Probably not, but she’d be naive if she didn’t suspect it now, especially since the pieces were either portraits of my mom or dedicated to her.”
“Hell, I’d say that’s a dead giveaway.”
She shrugged. “They were good friends. Mom advanced his career. Although she painted too, she always said her true gift to the art world was in exposing the general populace to beauty, and, well…” She toyed with the edge of her shirt. “Gerald was truly an amazing painter. Probably better than my dad ever was, but I hate even thinking that, let alone saying it.”
“Are you sure your mom and Gerald were lovers?”
“I know they were.” Her shoulders slumped. “I caught them in a suggestive situation once, and he always stayed a few days at the mansion whenever he came to the States, which was at least every couple of months. It was none of my business, my mom told me once, so I pretended I didn’t know about her littl
e affair. It was easy. I stayed in a separate wing and rarely saw her anyway.”
“Do you think he’s your real dad?”
She snorted. “No clue. Like I said, my mom was friendly with lots of people, but I think he’s the one she cared about the most. I’ll find out as soon as the PI locates the mysterious letter. Mom didn’t mention where she’d put it, only that it was in storage. I have the PI doing my legwork. Mom had tons of rented units scattered across the country.”
“Why put it in a storage unit? That doesn’t seem very secure.”
“Mom liked to do stuff like that. Make people things, write them letters, and put everything into storage without giving it to them. She’d said it was her way of purging herself of bad vibes that messed with her art. How much they hurt her determined the distance away she stashed them.”
He linked his fingers with hers. “It’s a little late, but whatever you need, I’ll be there for you.”
She mapped his face with her gaze. “I know that. That’s why I was so evasive yesterday. You’d put my problems before your own, even if you were married to someone else. That’s not right.”
“You don’t know that.”
She tilted her head. “Am I wrong?”
No, she wasn’t wrong. “It doesn’t matter now, does it? I’m not married.” He shrugged. “So you need me. I’m there.”
She pulled her hand away and dropped her clenched fists in her lap. “Don’t you think that’ll be a little hard? We do live over five hours apart.”
“I have a car and a cell phone.” He cut her a quick glance. “For you, I’ll drop everything.”
“That’d be a little irresponsible. You own a business.”
He curled his fingers, hating that Ronnie would assume his company…hell, anything would be more important than her. “It’s been slow lately. Economy hasn’t been good in the county. Not many people are remodeling. The couple of guys who help me out part-time can handle things.”
Silence stretched.
He inwardly cursed. Why hadn’t he kept his mouth shut? He might as well admit he was months away from foreclosure.
He glanced at her for a clue as to why she didn’t respond. Was it his poor finances that put that sullen look on her face or something else? He couldn’t tell, but the way she stared at her hands and nibbled on her bottom lip tightened his shoulders. Something he’d done had obviously upset her, and Ronnie had a habit of keeping whatever was bothering her close. At least until she reached her limit. Then she ran.
He ground his jaw. “So you see, I’m at your disposal.”
No promise that she’d call him. No questions about the state of his business. Nothing. “Ronnie?”
She flashed him an overly bright smile. “What?”
“You’ll call me, right?”
“Sure. If I need you, I’ll call.”
But he saw the truth in her eyes. She wouldn’t.
Chapter 8
Ronnie’s gut churned. Why did Kyle have to be so damn perfect? An amazing lover, forgiving, open about the hardships of his life, and he cared…about her. Dammit, he still loved her, even after she’d told him she’d left because she hadn’t wanted to marry him. Where was the anger and resentment? She deserved both.
The car stopped. She glanced at the house where she’d shared more family meals than she could count. Actually, they were the only ones she’d enjoyed. During the school year, it had only been her and her mom. There was never any fighting over the last roll or people arguing about nonsense stuff like who’d left the toilet seat up. Mundane things, but she’d loved being a part of them.
“Don’t be nervous, Ronnie.”
She met his gaze. Truth or lie? She didn’t want to lead him on. Just because she was regretting how she’d handled the past didn’t change anything. Her life was in Virginia. His was here. Their lives had gone in two completely different paths. Lying to Kyle didn’t sit well with her, however. Especially after he’d shared intimate details about his life.
“I can’t help it. I feel so damn bad about the way things ended between us. I was a coward.”
“You were a teenager. Look, I…” He took her hands in his and rubbed her knuckles. “I probably should’ve waited to get you a ring. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t leave me.” He snorted. “I guess I forced you into it, huh?”
“I’d convinced myself letting you go was a noble act because I loved you so much.”
He released her hands and glared at her. “How the hell is breaking my heart noble?”
Here was his anger. Finally. She matched his glare. “You wanted a wife, kids, and a perfect little life right here in Sander’s Valley. I didn’t. I let you go so you could find it.”
He glanced out the windshield. “I wanted you, Ronnie. The other stuff?” He faced her. “Dreams. I didn’t give a shit where we lived as long as I got to call you wife. And if the only kids we ever had were furry and four-legged, then so be it.”
Oh, please no. Regret tightened her chest, made it hard to breathe. “But you always talked about raising a family and growing old here—”
“Sure I did. I’m a Sander.” He waved at the rolling acreage and the mountains in the distance. “This is mine. Well, partially mine. When my parents die, it’ll be passed on to me and my brothers.” He shifted his gaze to her. “This is all I have, Ronnie. The lake and farm with its walking paths is all I ever had to offer you.” He leaned close, and his scent invaded her lungs. “For a girl worth billions, I was nothing. Am. Still. Nothing.”
“You’re an amazing, honorable man, Kyle Sander. That’s what you are.”
He cupped her face in his hands and rubbed his thumb over the corner of her mouth. “Really, doll?”
She nodded.
“Then why won’t you admit you still love me?”
Her car door opened, saving her from coming up with an excuse. Wyn stood on the side of the truck with a big smile on his face. Brown hair and eyes, he looked a lot like Kyle, only a little softer with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.
“Dad told me to come out here and make sure the two of you weren’t making out.” He glanced between them. His smile faltered when he met his brother’s eyes, but it warmed again when he focused on her. “I’m so glad you’re back, Ronnie. I’ve missed you.”
She matched his grin. It was impossible not to. She’d always loved Wyn. He was like the little brother she’d never had. “Thank you, but I’m not back, just passing through.”
“I told her what you said about her car, that it’d be a good three or four days at least until you got the part in you need,” Kyle said.
Wyn’s brows pinched. He glanced at Kyle. His eyes widened, and he nodded. “At least. Had to special order it. You know, with it being a classic and all.” He cleared his throat. “But it’s not a total loss, right? You get to reconnect with Kyle and us.”
“Right.” She shifted in her seat.
Kyle got out and walked to her door, bumping Wyn’s shoulder. “Watch it, kid. Ronnie’s my date for tonight.”
Wyn stepped back, palms up. “She’s been yours forever. I’m just being nice.”
Kyle took her hand. She could see the unspoken acknowledgment in his eyes. He considered her his, always had. She glanced away.
“You’re going to keep your mom from attacking me, right?”
He rolled his eyes, all signs of his anger gone. “Of course. I’ll shield you with my body.” His gaze heated. “Or flee with you to somewhere safe and more private.”
All the intimate places he’d touched came to life. “Naughty. You’re a naughty boy, Kyle Sander.”
He tugged her close and kissed her, slowly and deeply. “I’m a man now, Ronnie Axel. A man who knows exactly what he wants and won’t rest until he claims her.”
Her breath escaped in a rush. “Kyle, I—”
“You’re going to give me a week, and we’re going to see where this goes. No commitments. No obligations. We’re going to love each other. That’s it. Got
it?”
She felt herself nod.
His smile in response turned her heart over. He gave her another quick kiss. “Thank you, doll.”
He took her hand and led her into the fire. No matter what he said, she knew Mrs. Eliza Sander too well. That woman would rip Ronnie a new one for hurting one of her little boys.
“If it isn’t Veronica Gwendolyn Axel. So, who exactly did you meet that convinced you to leave my son?”
A full name. Heaven help me. Ronnie cringed, glad she stood behind Kyle. Eliza would see the guilt in Ronnie’s eyes and think she had dumped Kyle for another guy. She hadn’t, but Eliza wouldn’t bother asking the real reason for the remorse stamped on her face.
“Mom, enough. We didn’t come here for you to start a fight.” Kyle reached behind him and took her hand, drawing her closer to him. “If you’re going to be rude, we’ll leave.”
Ronnie gathered her courage and stepped from behind Kyle’s back. “I…umm…”
Eliza looked her up and down, but the anger lessened as she focused on her face. “What happened to you, child?”
“There was a break-in at the art gallery. I was attacked. My mom was killed.” The words rushed out.
Eliza hurried forward and grabbed her hand, pulling her into a fierce hug. “Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry.”
Just like that, the animosity in the room faded. Kyle’s dad wrapped his arms around her from behind, and she was sandwiched between the two people who’d acted as surrogate parents to her.
Memories rushed back. More regret and sadness choked her. She bawled, heart-wrenching sobs she hadn’t given in to over the week since the attack. There hadn’t been time. She’d been too busy with the funeral arrangements, the legalities of her mom’s death, and the shock she’d felt after her mom’s will had been read.
Eliza finally released Ronnie and led her into the kitchen. She heard a rush of hushed words and curses, but the swinging door muffled Kyle and his dad’s conversation. Eliza urged her sit at the round breakfast table and brought her a glass of lemonade.