by Robyn Grady
Turned down?
Ajax pulled back.
Veda had found her way here but she wasn’t happy? Surely it wasn’t anything he could have done. Not this time. Perhaps she’d had another argument with Drake. Maybe there’d been bad news with regard to her business.
Well, if she was looking for a shoulder to lean on, two arms to bring her close and lift her up, she had come to the right place.
He picked up the pace again until he was running right at her. As he swept by, he grabbed her around the waist, hoisted her up against him and twirled her around. He felt her stiffen because of course she was caught off guard. And when he stopped spinning and let her slide down against him, he kept the surprises coming. As soon as her mouth was within range, he kissed her like he’d dreamed of doing every minute of every day since he’d let her walk away.
Now she was back.
You’d better believe she was here to stay.
Ajax worked the kiss, cupping the back of her head while he held her snug against him. Feeling her feet flap in the air, he pressed in deeper as every starving part of him hardened and cried out for more. Veda was gripping what she could of his shoulders, her fingers digging into his shirt while her lower half pressed against his belt. While working on this place these past weeks, he had routinely lost himself in daydreams about a reunion...how steamy and flat-out joyous the makeup sex would be. But this moment was about way more than anything physical. This connection was real, and no matter how many challenges the future threw their way, they would make it through together. To the depths of his soul, he knew that.
But then...
Well, something changed.
Veda didn’t seem to be gripping his shirt so much as trying to shove him away. And while he was certain she’d been kissing him back a moment ago, now her mouth was closed, shutting him out.
Pulling back, he searched her eyes. They were shining with emotion. But he wouldn’t call it love.
“Let me down!” She pushed him again. “What are you doing? Are you crazy?”
It took another second for those words to sink in. After setting her down, he tried to figure out how the hell he had read it so wrong.
“I get out of my car and you literally jump on me,” she was saying. “You really have a problem, you know that?”
He blinked several times, rubbed his brow. “I presumed you were here to see me.”
“I was curious,” she said, rearranging her dress, which was askew after that amazing midair kiss.
His lips were still burning, begging for more. But he needed to stay focused and rewind to a time before he had believed she had actually wanted him to sweep her off her feet.
“Okay.” Holding up both hands, he took in a deep breath, blew it out. “What’s going on?”
“I was driving by,” she explained, “when I saw the sign. I’d heard rumors.”
“That I’d walked away from Rawsons. Correct.”
Her eyes widened. “You really did?”
“I decided that I needed to do something different. Something where I could be around horses but...”
His words trailed off because this had all taken such a sharp turn in the wrong direction. What was she so pissed about? What had he done wrong now?
He threw a glance at the new paddock railings he’d put up, then at the cabin roof he’d almost finished repairing. The old barn was big enough to house twenty retired racehorses.
Veda was looking around, too, like she was waiting to be ambushed or expecting a big rock to crash on her head.
“You’ve really put a lot of work into this,” she finally said, obviously remembering the pictures he’d shown her on his phone.
“Yeah.” His mouth twisted as the backs of his eyes kind of prickled. “I did.”
She crossed her arms. “But if this is all for me, you shouldn’t have bothered.”
He just looked at her now because...wow.
Just.
Wow.
“If you want to know, this wasn’t just for you,” he said over the god-awful lump in his throat. “It was for us. You were the one who said to go after the things that matter most. I thought I could make us both happy. In fact, when I set my mind to it, I felt so good, so sure, I thought you’d be blown away.”
She hesitated, then said, “You really thought that I’d trust you?”
“Right.” He stepped back into her space. “Because if this is going to work, and I know that it can, we need to trust each other. That’s what love is about, damn it!”
He clenched his jaw and dialed it back. She obviously wasn’t ready for this. Would she ever be?
Raking a hand through his hair, he groaned. “I need to shut up now—”
“No,” she said as quick as a whip. Then the corners of her mouth twitched. It wasn’t exactly a smile but not an outright scowl, either.
He tried to corral the emotions needing to break free. But he couldn’t contain the way he felt about her. Right now, this minute, he needed her to know it all.
“I enrolled in college. A bachelor’s degree in animal biology. Vet school is another four years at least on top of that, so maybe not—”
“Maybe yes.” She came forward. “That’s so amazing. You always wanted to do that.”
Ajax remembered the day when Someone’s Prince Charming had broken down. He hadn’t been able to save him. But he’d made his decision very soon after that.
“And I took some advice from your blog,” he said.
Her eyes widened. “You read my blog?”
“I’ve done way more than that.” He let it all out. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Veda. But it’s more than that, too.” He held her arms. “I know I want to spend the rest of my days with you.”
When her lips quivered with a growing smile and her eyes filled with what he hoped were happy tears, he looped his arms around her waist and tugged her close again.
“I’ve brought over my retirees,” he said, flickering a glance at the trio. “There’ll be more to come. And there’s plenty of room for pet pigs and sheep and a fluffy little dog we’ll call Gus, too.”
She still wasn’t talking. Not a croak. Not a peep.
But the tears in her eyes were close to falling, and her lips were definitely calling to him again. So he leaned that bit closer, held her that much tighter and laid out the last of his speech.
“This is who I am,” he told her. “This is who I want to be. With you every damn day for as long as we live.”
This time when they kissed, Ajax felt a sense of certainty spiral through him, filling him up in a way that reaffirmed what he already knew. He had made the right choice. Veda would always be his sweetheart.
Veda was “the one.”
When he slowly broke the kiss, her eyes were heavy with the same wonderful emotions he was feeling.
“Veda,” he said, “you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“You really mean that? The best?”
She looked too choked up to get more words out. But then she took a breath, and asked in a near whisper, “Ajax?”
He smiled and brought her closer. “Yes, Veda.”
“I love you, too. I’m pretty sure I loved you from the start.”
Then he was kissing her again, lifting her higher, loving her even more. And he knew this time they had done it.
Theirs would be the best life ever.
The best there ever was.
* * *
Don’t miss a single story in
the About That Night... duet:
The Case for Temptation
One Night with His Rival
by Robyn Grady
Available exclusively
from Harlequin Desire!
Keep reading for a special preview of
Forbidden Promises
/> the first book in Synithia Williams’s irresistible Jackson Falls series.
India Robidoux wants nothing more than to avoid her sister’s ex-husband...even if they did share one unforgettable kiss years ago.
What do you do when you want the one person you can’t have?
Coming March 2020 from HQN Books!
Forbidden Promises
by Synithia Williams
CHAPTER ONE
A LARGE CALLA lily bouquet came entirely too close to slapping India Robidoux in the face the moment she entered her family’s home for the first time in four years. Only a quick slide to the right saved her from that indignity.
The woman carrying the flowers rushed by with a barely audible “excuse me.”
India jumped back to avoid being hit by another bouquet as a different woman with an equally large arrangement hurried by. The ornate oak-and-glass front door swung open behind her. India stutter-stepped to the right to avoid being hit. Maybe she should have taken up dancing instead of the violin. She clearly had the footwork down.
The front door opened again, and a man carrying a large box rushed through. “Where do you want these?” he asked her. He shifted and the sound of glasses clinking together came from the box.
India’s mouth opened, then closed. She glanced around in the hope he was talking to someone who had some clue what was going on.
The man loudly cleared his throat. “Ma’am?”
Blinking rapidly, India pointed down the hall where more noise came from the back of the house. “Um...the kitchen?” That had to be where glasses needed to go.
The man nodded and hurried on his way. Yet another woman carrying a huge bouquet, roses instead of calla lilies, rushed by again.
India moved out of the entryway and the line of people going back and forth. She pulled her cell phone out of the back pocket of her jean shorts and checked the date. No one’s birthday, no anniversary and no major holiday. Why were there dozens of people zipping around making the already impressive interior of her family home even more extravagant?
People were everywhere, placing flower arrangements, hanging decorations, carrying crates and cleaning every nook and cranny. The effort put into whatever was going on wasn’t surprising. Her family didn’t do anything half-assed. It was as if four years hadn’t passed and she was back home in time for another Robidoux Family production.
“I told the caterer there were to be no oysters, at all. If my brother dies from an allergic reaction to oysters at his own party because the caterer is too dumb to remember my instructions, there will be hell to pay.” Her sister’s cool Southern accent was laced with frustration.
India rolled her eyes and sighed. Apparently, Elaina’s tendency for overdramatic threats hadn’t diminished recently.
The quick apologetic reply of the unfortunate assistant her sister spoke to accompanied the sound of heels clicking along the marble in India’s direction. For a second, she considered hiding, but dismissed the urge. There was no reason to hide from her sister. Their relationship wasn’t the closest, but neither were they enemies. Elaina always viewed India as the annoying baby sister in need of her guidance. Adulthood hadn’t changed that perception.
Elaina and a woman India didn’t recognize came into view. Elaina’s deep sepia skin, dark almond-shaped eyes and perfectly flat-ironed hair hadn’t changed at all. Even though Elaina was thirty-four, India swore her sister had stopped aging at twenty-five.
Elaina’s furious pace didn’t slow down even though the other woman struggled to keep up with her. Seeing they would continue right by her—probably assuming India was just another person helping with the party which apparently was for her brother—India sighed and stepped away from the wall. “Byron isn’t going to die from eating an oyster, Elaina, and you know it.”
Elaina froze midstride. Surprise registered for a millisecond before her gaze traveled over India’s body.
India automatically stood straighter. She was considered the artist of the family and her brother... Well, he was the son, which made him their father’s pride and joy. Everyone agreed Elaina was the beauty, but that didn’t stop her big sister from quickly sizing up India every time they were together. That didn’t make her sister’s scrutiny any less annoying. So, India wasn’t dressed to impress. She’d come straight from the airport, leaving her luggage in the car in her rush to get inside and figure out why there were so many vehicles in the long drive. She wore jean shorts with a white tank top that sported the words Plays Well With Others beneath musical notes. Elaina’s peach silk blouse and tan pencil skirt easily outshone India’s wardrobe, but India had traveled all day and opted for comfort. That had to count for something, right?
Elaina’s full lips finally spread into what India assumed was supposed to be a welcoming smile. “Well, you’re back. I wondered if you would actually come. I guess Daddy hasn’t completely lost his hold on you.”
India took a deep breath and smiled just as sincerely as her sister. “I’m not here for—” she looked around at the decorations “—whatever is going on. I have a break in touring and now I’m home.”
Elaina’s dark eyes widened. “Oh, well, you’re home just in time.” She turned to the woman next to her. “Gwendolyn, I’ve got to get my baby sister up to speed. You go check to make sure the crystal glasses were delivered. Please let Sandra know India’s back.”
Sandra was the head housekeeper for the estate. India didn’t know her—she had started after India had already left. According to Byron, the woman was a saint.
Gwendolyn gave India a curious look before she nodded at Elaina. “I will, and I’ll make sure there are no oysters anywhere on the menu.”
“Please see that you do,” Elaina said in an exaggerated tone.
When Gwendolyn walked away, Elaina strolled over to India. “Gwendolyn is a straight-up pit bull when it comes to party planning. If there is an oyster in the house, she’ll make sure it’s destroyed.”
India’s lips twisted. “She sounds delightful.”
Elaina smiled ruefully. “Actually, she’s a little scary.”
“Scarier than you?” India said with disbelief. Elaina was nearly a carbon copy of their late mother. Witty, smart and unwilling to take shit from anyone.
Elaina lifted one slim shoulder and placed the tips of her manicured fingers on the other. “No one’s scarier than me.”
India smiled and some of the tension eased from her spine. She’d forgotten that Elaina made her laugh occasionally. “So, this thing is for Byron?”
“You really don’t know?” When India shook her head, Elaina motioned for her to follow. “Come on, let’s go upstairs. It’s a madhouse down here. Byron is running for Senate and he’s formally announcing his candidacy tonight.”
India froze at the bottom of the curving staircase. Shit. Damn. Motherfucker! She’d hoped to come home, spend a few easy days, maybe a week, catching up with her family and then get the hell out of there. Not arrive in the middle of what was sure to be a full-fledged Robidoux family drama complete with television cameras, adoring friends and political posturing. There was no way her daddy would stand for her popping in and out during her brother’s political campaign. If she’d known, she would have gone straight to Los Angeles instead of opting for a family visit.
Either Elaina hadn’t noticed India wasn’t climbing up the stairs or hadn’t cared, and continued her assent. India resumed her stride and followed her sister to the second-floor family room. Though the downstairs rooms were ornate and grandiose with their antique furnishings, expensive wall hangings and polished surfaces, the upstairs was relaxed and welcoming. This was where the family got together to talk, watch television and spend time together. Dark carpet covered the family room floor and large leather sofas and recliners filled the space before a large television screen on the left. A pool table and minibar occupied the right side
of the room.
Elaina went to the bar and pulled a bottle out of the small fridge and two goblets from the cabinet. “Wine?”
“Please,” India answered.
Elaina raised one arched brow. “And here I thought you weren’t a day drinker.”
“A lot’s changed in the years I’ve been away.” Truthfully, nothing had changed. Any other day, she’d say one in the afternoon was too early for wine. But any other day she wouldn’t be home facing her demons.
Elaina poured them wine, then walked over and handed a glass to India. She held up her glass. “Welcome home, sister.” Elaina’s voice didn’t carry any warmth or fondness. That was Elaina. Cold beauty and pragmatism. Warm and fuzzy was not her style.
India clinked her glass to Elaina’s and took a sip. As the crisp flavor of the wine played across her tongue, she glanced around the room. Pictures of her and her siblings along with the various awards Robidoux Tobacco, the vast empire that supported their lavish lifestyle, had won over the years filled the bookshelf. The faint scent of cigar smoke hung in the room that was the heart of the family.
India took a deep breath. The smell of home. Tobacco had made her family rich and turned Robidoux Tobacco into one of the most profitable tobacco producers in the country. Despite arriving in the middle of a publicity storm, India had missed home.
She walked over to get a closer look at the pictures. “I can’t believe Daddy still has these up.”
“As if he’d take them down,” Elaina said with a trace of humor. “He loves to brag about his children’s accomplishments. From fourth grade spelling bees to traveling the world with a renowned orchestra.”
India smiled at some of the pictures from the events Elaina mentioned. There was even a framed newspaper clipping of a review of the Transatlantic Orchestra from the New York Times. Her dad hadn’t wanted her to go, but he’d still been proud enough to brag.
