by Dani Wade
Feeling the pressure to fill the silence, she said, “Your mother would love what you’ve accomplished here. This house is magnificent.”
He kept his solemn expression as he moved closer to her. “She’d appreciate it far more than my business accomplishments. I’m sure you would agree.”
“Actually, Royce, I’m a businesswoman myself. While I love what you’ve done with the place in your mother’s honor, I realize you couldn’t create something this incredible without being successful in your professional life.”
“She didn’t approve of my work in many ways, didn’t want me to follow my father’s path.”
Which he’d done wholeheartedly...until now. “But you haven’t really, have you? You aren’t your father.”
He nodded slowly, as if he were thinking over his answer. “Maybe not.”
Finally he stood before her, studying her with dramatic effect before stepping close to take her into his arms. But before he moved, he used one crooked finger to lift her chin so she could meet his look.
“Jasmine, I’ll be so proud to have you by my side tomorrow.”
Then he started to dance her around the room. There was no music, just the rhythm created by his body. Several times Jasmine caught the surreal sight of them in one of the mirrors. An elegant man and lady moving in time with each other. The fabric of her brilliant blue dress swirled and brushed over the legs of his pants.
But it was the look in his eyes that held her enthralled.
She’d been through so many changes this year. She’d lost a friend. She’d gained a child. She’d embarked on a journey as a mother. But, for the first time in a long time, her doubts were quiet and she was completely happy.
Maybe he will accept all of me.
Seventeen
Royce couldn’t quite believe the woman in his arms was his. Soft. Sweet, with just enough spice. And he had no doubt that she was giving herself to him fully in this moment.
Was it possible to feel humbled and powerful at the same time?
He’d certainly never had the heady experience before, but he wasn’t going to waste it. With the expert skill he’d never thought he’d need, he waltzed Jasmine in a full circle around the room, coming to rest near the alcove door. Knowing the house had been cleared of workers, he didn’t bother leading her to a more secluded spot.
Privacy wasn’t as important as their hunger for each other.
He thanked the universe for the opportunity and crowded her against the wall with his body. Her eyes widened. Her breasts plumped above the edge of her dress. Her skin was pale against the deep blue. Royce wanted to explore every inch, but for tonight, he would taste her right here.
His lips stroked over hers. He savored the mewling from her throat as their tongues entwined. She tasted of surrender, though he knew her strength; she had tested him with it more than once. And would again in the future.
But, for tonight, she was his.
She wasn’t a passive princess. Her deft fingers unbuttoned his jacket then slid inside to spread warmth to his ribs through his thin dress shirt. Her touch sent a surge of need rushing through him. His hips pressed closer. She gasped.
He had to taste more of her.
Bending low, he placed his mouth right below her ear. One of the most tempting things Jasmine did to him every day was wear her hair up. It was gorgeous down, and it was pure pleasure burying his hands in its thickness. But when it was pulled up into a twist, a bun or, hell, even a ponytail, he couldn’t resist the length of her neck and the sensitive skin he knew was there.
She clutched at him once more as his mouth covered the pulse point below her ear. Her breath hitched as he suckled lightly. The tension invading her body drove his own need higher. The fact that he knew how to make this woman ache with pleasure brought him the most satisfaction of anything he’d experienced thus far in life.
It was addictive. Necessary.
Slowly, he let himself meander the familiar but exciting path down her straining muscles. Her skin was smooth. Her body was responsive on every level. He lapped at the hollow at the base of her throat, savoring the rapid beat of her pulse. Her cries filled his ears. He knew without a doubt that she was ready for him.
But he wasn’t taking things any further without sampling the top curve of her breasts, slightly salty from her day of work. He pulled her closer and lifted her higher with his hands at her waist. The tender flesh plumped beneath his lips. He couldn’t stop working her until he nuzzled one tight nipple. Her textures and flavors amazed him.
He drew on her carefully, knowing how sensitive she was here. Her cries grew loud enough to echo off the walls. Strange how satisfying that was to hear. Royce played for long moments, feeling her fists clench and pull at his shirt.
Now. He needed her now.
With more haste than finesse, he scrambled beneath the layers at the front of her dress until his hands found skin. Then he followed the trembling muscles of her thighs to her damp underwear. Quickly he stripped it from her.
Mine. Mine.
He readied himself, practically tearing open his fly and fitting on a condom. He lifted one of her legs, making a place for himself between them. The moment that he slid inside, her head fell back against the wall. He captured her open mouth as he forged into her. The thrust and retreat was exquisite. His hips drove hard as she gasped out his name.
The feelings were too intense to last long. In a flash, they were both consumed. He gave one last thrust and her body clamped down on his with a demand of her own. And he obeyed without protest.
In the throbbing, heated aftermath, Royce knew a part of himself was now forever tied to this woman. For the first time, he could admit that he had no desire to fight the pull.
* * *
Jasmine’s heart thrilled at the sight of hundreds of masked attendees in line to enter the mansion. The dark tuxes and formal gowns befit the setting, taking her back to a bygone era when this house was a mecca for Savannah society. The masks ranged from plain and simple to elegant affairs adorned with sparkles and feathers. They lent just the right touch of mystery, even when Jasmine knew who the wearer was.
Excitement filled the air as guests made their way inside. The chatter of each group transformed into oohs and aahs as they discovered all the wonderful entertainments available in the various rooms.
After most of the guests had arrived, Jasmine turned to the next person in line, only to discover Francis Staten. His long hair had had a slight trim and he sported a smooth new tux. She smiled. “Well, don’t you look spiffy?”
His grin was a little shame-faced. “I was just gonna dust off the old suit, but Royce had this delivered. I feel almost guilty wearing it.”
“Don’t.” After years of seeing him in his khakis at the mission, she completely understood. Still... “Let him do this for you. Represent the mission tonight, in the midst of these people, with pride in all you do every day.”
Jasmine knew how much more confident and comfortable she was among Savannah’s elite when she dressed the part.
“I don’t want people to think—”
“No, Francis. No one will think you are using the mission’s money to buy yourself a suit. If they do, they won’t understand what we’re trying to do there, anyway. Just enjoy yourself, have a glass of champagne and talk us up.”
“At least I’m comfortable giving speeches. Unlike wearing this bow tie.”
He pulled at his collar as he walked away, but Jasmine was glad to see him join a conversation almost immediately. She didn’t want him to feel alone all evening. Royce paused for a few moments to greet Francis, then made his way back to Jasmine’s side.
His black tux and matching half mask set off his blond hair. Jasmine could have watched him walk toward her all day. He was so incredibly sexy...and all hers.
“Everything is going very well,” he said, as he bent to kiss her.
“Thank you,” she murmured against his lips.
He pulled back a fraction. “For what?”
“Francis’s tux,” she said, nodding in the other man’s direction.
Royce glanced over his shoulder before turning back to her. “I figured it would help him feel more comfortable here. If he had the money for one, that’s certainly not what he would spend it on.”
“How did you know that?” Because Royce was exactly right.
His dark gaze was intense behind the mask. “I know a few things about people, you know. Even if I’ve never put them to good use in social situations before.”
“Well, thank you for seeing that.”
“Thank you for taking me to the mission so I could see it.”
Before Jasmine had a chance to savor his words, the Jeffersons appeared before them. “Jasmine,” Don said, “you have gone above and beyond this time. This masquerade is incredible.”
Marilyn Jefferson’s eyes sparkled behind her purple feathered mask. “And this house! I didn’t even realize it was being renovated.”
“For several years now,” Royce said. “In honor of my mother. She loved this place.”
“I’m sure,” Marilyn said with a soft smile. “I just hate that she didn’t see it like this. In the glory you’ve worked so hard to achieve.”
Jasmine explained, “She lived in the carriage house for a few years as the renovations began.”
“The final version that I executed is almost identical to the plans she drew up herself,” Royce said.
“Congratulations, Royce,” Don said. “Tonight will be a smashing success, I know. For you and the mission. On Monday, let’s make an appointment. To talk.”
Jasmine knew Royce wanted to smile big, but he kept it under wraps pretty well. Still, she could feel the jolt of excitement that ran through his body. “I will set that up. Thank you, sir.”
After the Jeffersons had walked away, Jasmine kissed Royce hard and long, not caring who watched. “Congratulations,” she finally murmured.
The evening was as successful as Don Jefferson had predicted. Preliminary counts said they had earned more than enough money to pay for a nice, large building with sleeping quarters on the mission’s campus and some additional upgrades, as well.
It wasn’t until after the big announcements late in the evening that Jasmine even realized Royce’s father was there.
She recognized that analytical gaze easily, despite the plain black mask he sported. Just the feel of him looking in her direction made her stomach clench and bile back up in her throat. Yet, for the next half hour, she saw him everywhere she looked, no matter what she was doing.
Finally she was able to break away from her hostessing duties and find Royce. To warn him. But she arrived only seconds before his father did.
Royce glared at the man over her shoulder. “You’re not welcome here.”
Jasmine turned to find John completely unmoved by Royce’s anger.
“I bought a ticket,” he said with a shrug.
“And I’ll happily refund your money.”
John cocked his head to the side, studying Royce as if to figure out exactly what he needed to say to get through to the man before him. “If word got around that you threw me out, that might hurt donations.”
“We don’t need any more.” Royce’s expression was undeniably proud. “But if we did, I’d make it up out of my own pocket.”
“That’s not good business, Royce. You know that.” John shook his head as if Royce were behaving childishly. “You cannot let your emotions rule over money.”
“Tonight’s not about business,” Jasmine insisted.
But the look John turned her way reminded her she wasn’t speaking for herself. “You sure?”
Suddenly she remembered Don Jefferson’s invitation to set up an appointment with Royce. The real reason he had started this venture so long ago. But before she could respond, Ivy appeared at her elbow. “Jasmine, the catering lady has a question. She’s looking for you.”
“Right,” John said, “Go on back to work now.”
Royce stepped firmly between her and his father, brushing a brief kiss over her brow. “Go ahead,” he murmured. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle dear old Dad.”
Eighteen
So Jasmine left, but forty-five minutes later, she realized that Royce was nowhere to be found. Oh, the party was in full swing without him, but that didn’t defuse the worry that settled in her gut.
She knew he wasn’t in the front parlor, because she’d just been through there. Everything was running smoothly and the vendors had given her very positive feedback. But there’d been no sign of Royce.
Next, she checked the ballroom as best as she could. Between the dancers and those milling around listening to the small orchestra, it was a little too crowded for an accurate reading. But she didn’t see him. The kitchen and dining rooms were also a bust.
Though he could have stepped outside to cool off, that didn’t feel right. Besides, Jasmine wasn’t familiar enough with the grounds to trust herself to go looking around in the dark.
Instead, she climbed the back stairs. Several rooms at the front of the second floor had been opened for guests to tour, including a grand sitting room and a couple of bedrooms. There were other completed rooms on this floor that weren’t open for viewing. One she knew to be an office that Royce had set up with equipment in case he needed to be reached or do something while he was out here—which he often had been during the last month or so.
As she reached the top of the stairs, muffled voices reached her. Alert that there was someone in the office, she approached the closed door with trepidation. Why would Royce have brought his father up here? Or was it just someone else he’d wanted to talk to?
She didn’t want to interrupt business. But the thought that he would be taking a business meeting in the middle of their event was upsetting.
At first she thought the door was closed, but as she reached it, she realized it was cracked. The voices filtered through enough that she recognized Royce...and his father. She should have just turned away, gone back downstairs and left Royce to handle it. Instead, she reached out and pushed the door back an inch, allowing her to see a small sliver of the scene inside.
John Nave flicked a silver lighter, then used it to light a thin cigar. He puffed a few times, causing the tip to glow red. “I, more than anyone, know how disruptive women can be,” he finally said.
Royce turned to him. The lamp nearby allowed Jasmine to read the surprise on his face. Unconcerned, his father blew out a stream of cigar smoke. “Yes, your mother wasn’t the first. But she was the only one I made the mistake of getting pregnant.”
“I wouldn’t consider myself a mistake.”
John paused in that way he had, as if he considered every word before speaking it. “I did, at the time. But I’ve checked in through the years. You’ve turned out well. Still, I felt it was best if I married after that.”
Royce scoffed. “I wouldn’t call what you have a marriage. More like a business arrangement.”
“I call it the best of both worlds. I handle the business. She handles the house and our image. And takes the edge off when I really need it. What more could I want?”
Jasmine waited for Royce to say love, but he remained silent.
“You’ve made a terrible misstep, son. I’ve seen the way you look at her. You’re going soft. Besides, that woman has a baby, for Christ’s sake. One that’s not even hers.”
“How did you find that out?” Royce stalked closer to stand over John’s chair. “Never mind. I’m sure I can guess. A better question is, why do you care?”
“Because you should,” John insisted, gaining his feet
to meet Royce head-on. “You should care that her middle-class family is going to suck your focus away from your business. Why would you let someone like that stand in the way of achieving all that you can?”
Royce’s voice hardened. “I have never let anything stand in the way of my success. I’m not about to start now.”
John extended his hand to shake Royce’s. “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”
Jasmine’s last look showed Royce and his father standing close to each other, hands clasped, the picture of power and business acumen.
There was no place in that picture for family or all the tender, passionate emotions Royce inspired inside her. Emotions he obviously didn’t return. Had he been pretending all along?
Turning, Jasmine fled back along the hall and down the staircase, holding her quiet sobs inside and lifting her skirt just enough to keep her from tripping and breaking a bone.
She rushed along the hall behind the kitchen, her only thought that she needed out before she broke down completely. Then she ran smack into someone tall and solid.
“Sugar, what’s the matter?” Dominic asked.
Just hearing his voice brought reality back in a rush. Jasmine clutched at the front of his jacket, dragging in deep breaths in an attempt to get herself under control. Unfortunately, that just made the darkened hall whirl around her. “I feel dizzy.”
“Come here.”
Dominic clutched her to his solid chest as he led her to a small storage room where he pulled out one of the folding chairs they were using for seating in the dining room and settled her into it. Then he opened one for himself and sat next to her.
“Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
Jasmine shook her head, unable to put into words the pain she felt. “I trusted him.”
“Who?” Dominic asked, laying his large hand against the bare skin of her upper back. His heat calmed her, centered her focus on that one spot. Oddly enough, it made her realize that the rest of her body was chilled, inside and out.
