Luckily for Angela, she’d taken positive steps and had wound up here, three years later in her own home. Now if she could just get up the courage to head downstairs and tell him she wanted him. She knew it wouldn’t happen, knew he’d have to make the first move, and she knew she had to keep her private life private. Royce might understand the woman she’d turned into, but if the rest of the family ever found out, they’d have her committed.
So again, she tossed in her bed and used her own hand to find a release that was elusive. She’d learned how her body worked and what she liked, but she’d never managed to capture the same heightened level he’d worked her into that afternoon. She’d only seen him once after that, at Nonnie’s funeral. Royce had understood that wasn’t the time to touch her, he held her as she slobbered and cried, and stroked her hair and back, while reinforcing to her it would be all right in time.
Well, she decided, time was here and now. And tomorrow, if she could work up the courage, she might just surprise Royce with a few tricks of her own. It would be interesting to see if he accepted her advances or if he’d be turned off by her forwardness.
She groaned remembering how she’d tried on the leather skirt earlier in the day and had wondered what he’d do if she came down to supper wearing it. Her body heated at the memory of being stretched around him, being bared and vulnerable while his cock pushed against her belly. Angela pulled a pillow to her chest, closed her eyes, and willed it to be Royce that she held when she woke.
Chapter Five
Royce managed to stay where he was and knew that if he climbed that rickety staircase he’d never leave her alone again. Sleep overtook him, with her perfume around the room, on the linens, a surprise when the smell of fresh coffee woke him the next morning. He never thought to sleep, instead figured he’d toss and turn once again, another night lost to dreams of how he’d touch her if ever given the chance.
He roused himself and jumped in yet another cold shower, dressed quickly only to find the house empty of Angela and Prima. The coffee pot was full and on the counter sat two mugs with a spoon dropped in each with the sugar bowl beside them. The small television in the far corner of the room was on to morning news, but the volume was low. After pouring a cup of the heavy brew, he moved to the glass wall to take in the morning view of her haven. That was how he was beginning to see her home, as her retreat from the real world.
Prima came into his line of vision first, her powerful legs covering large portions of ground with ease, Angela jogging several yards behind. Her hair swung back and forth from the high tail she’d pulled it back into. She wore an oversized shirt and tight running pants. She stopped dead about a hundred yards from the house and looked up, a large smile crossing her lips.
Royce didn’t know if she was smiling at the sight of her home or if he could be seen watching her. Long seconds passed, and he didn’t move from the window, nor did Angela take her eyes away. Only when the dog came running toward her did the moment break. Watching as the dog playfully jumped around her slim body, he tightened his hands around the mug he held. He’d touched her only once, and it wasn’t enough. By the time she reached the inner door, Prima was running through the space, her speed enhanced by the polished hardwood floors. When the dog came to a
skidding halt at the kitchen entrance, her movement was more of a collapse than a sit.
“Morning,” Angela said as she entered, pulling off the outer shirt as she moved. She was flushed, her cheeks and nose red, her eyes clear as she watched him. She pulled the elastic band from her hair and let it settle around her shoulders. He knew she was talking and tried to nod or grunt when appropriate as she moved about the small space getting the dog’s food ready. She poured a cup of coffee before moving to stand beside him. “Royce?”
“What? Sorry, I was lost there for a minute.” He didn’t tell her it was because the top she was wearing left her midriff exposed and he’d almost swallowed his tongue when he saw the small gold ring protruding from her navel.
He’d seen women with things pierced other their ears, only always in Europe. Never would he have imagined she’d pierced her navel. A chill ran through him, and he wondered if she had anymore. Through her tight top, he could see her nipples protruding.
“I’m going to jump in a shower. I’ll start breakfast after, all right?”
“Yeah, fine. I’m just not awake yet.” His eyes betrayed him and wandered to her waist. Her skin flushed under his ogling, and when he finally moved his look upward, the swell of her breasts spilling from the center of her top was almost too much to deal with. “Angela…” He watched her swallow hard, watched her eyes drop to his crotch, the worn denim covering him stretched to the seams limits.
“Shower,” she said and walked away.
He heard the water running and forced himself not to stare at the loft balcony to catch a glimpse of her. Going back to the spare room to finish dressing, he hoped the more clothes he wore, the easier it would be to leave her alone or at least hide his physical longings.
———
Standing under the hot spray, Angela berated herself for not inviting him to join her. The look on his face alone would have made it worthwhile. While she held on to the hope he still might join her, she knew it wouldn’t be reality. She pinched her nipples as she closed her eyes and wished they
were Royce’s hands, imagined him holding the wash cloth and moving it in deliberate patterns until she found the release she longed for. Even as she dressed, her lips were still heavy with need and her breasts ached for his lips.
Angela cooked breakfast with practiced ease as they discussed their plans for the day. She had a few errands to run and would probably be in her office over the garage most of the afternoon. She didn’t offer of a tour of the space when he inquired what it looked like. She told him an organized chaos while she was working on a project and liked being able to close the door on the mess and walk away.
He offered to take her out to supper but she insisted she prefer to cook. It wasn’t lost on either of them he avoided answering her questions about his plans. All he offered was he’d know more later in the day.
Angela had smiled and said, “You’ll tell me when you’re ready,” and dropped the subject.
They left at the same time, only after Angela showed him where the spare key was hidden if he returned before her. That was unlikely to happen as he knew any more time spent in her home was the weakening of his will. He was waiting for the heater in the rental to come to temperature in the cold March air when she backed a large white Buick from the garage. He smiled openly at the sight of her behind the wheel of the huge vehicle. At least, it was a heavy vehicle as the forecaster on the radio warned of snow.
———
Royce was in a quandary. He truly liked the property, the feel of it, and the idea of it. A home for himself, a place where he could make his mark and not leave unless he chose, a place that maybe someday he’d share with a woman and maybe a few kids. He’d sat at the end of the driveway for a few hours after the realtor left and visualized what he’d do to make it his own. If only he could stop injecting Angela’s presence into each idea.
Late in the afternoon, he finally turned off the snowy back road and into her driveway. He let out a sigh of relief for arriving safely. Since he’d ventured off this morning, several inches of heavy snow had fallen and more was predicted. The rental car was not meant for driving in storms.
Her home was empty, the side door unlocked. Prima was gone too. Royce started a fire in the hearth and grew frustrated when his mind kept wandering back to the land. He remembered Angela telling him she liked to close the door on her office mess but he was too antsy to just sit before the fire. Grabbing his jacket, Royce walked the distance to the second building, knowing he was just curious about her space, using the single door beside the garage entrance.
As he let himself into the small space, he went up the flight of stairs. He took them two at a time and came to a skidding halt, similar t
o Prima’s entrance earlier in the morning, at the top. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Angela was propped in the window seat to the rear, her head leaning against the glass. The view was of tree tops and sky. A large sheaf of pages was on her lap with a pair of reading glasses balanced on top.
The braid she’d worked her hair into after showering was now dry, and tendrils of loose ends framed her face. In worn jeans, the light pink sweater she’d worn through breakfast had ridden up, exposing just her middle and the damn belly ring. He hardened at the thought of using his tongue to twist the metal until she squirmed beneath him and let out a groan. That was a twist he’d learned in Italy a few years back.
Prima lifted her head from her paws but decided he wasn’t worth getting up for. Using the time to take in her space, he realized she’d been right. There was an orderly chaos of papers and reference materials. Shelves on two walls were stuffed with books and he pulled back a startled cry as he read some of the titles. He’d been expecting to find classics or poetry, or even textbooks and reference books, and he found some. The sex manuals and torrid novels had his heart pounding faster.
“What the hell,” he said aloud, taking a second look at more of the titles. There were only two framed pieces of art on the wall, and those confused him even more. They were both black backgrounds, framed in thin gold metal. The center of the first one was emblazoned with the name, Evangeline, in gold. The second poster was similar, only under the name, Volume II, followed in smaller script. Royce was stunned.
He’d seen a copy of the first novel when he’d been stationed in Colorado a few years back. Some of the guys had taken to reading favored passages of the erotic journey of the naive Evangeline. A heroine who lives
nine hundred years in the future within a society that denounces physical contact, she discovers a treasure of books centuries old and understands earlier societies were different in a way she couldn’t relate to.
Through the first novel, Evangeline comes to terms with her own body, learning the art of self-satisfaction and ultimately sharing her cache with the one man she truly loves and trusts. While his initial response to the volumes and Evangeline’s wants are typical to the men of his time, he overcomes what his society has taught him and decides to wander the path of physical enjoyment with her, only to find he’s addicted body and soul.
Toward the end of the book, all the guys were panting and rereading the passages, and all were speculating about the author. He’d remembered how the story ended, with Evangeline in control of her lover for the first time and heady with the power it brought and ultimately with the pleasure they both experienced. He remembered wondering at the time what had happened to the alpha male concept.
Royce glanced around the room and moved to the back wall while taking in all the photos that were tacked to the corkboard. There were baby pictures and family shots, weddings and christenings, all candid except for a copy of Tony in full military dress and one of him in uniform. He saw himself staring back from several of the others, his age progressing.
He moved to the window seat and kneeled beside her. He reached to touch the gold ring, and she woke with a start.
“Royce,” she’d whispered, and guided his head, kissing him deeply. She snuggled farther into the pillows, pulled him over her, and kissed him a second time before fully coming awake.
He felt her freeze under him and watched through lowered lashes as she slowly woke and realized what they were doing. He was surprised at the strength she’d used to push him away from her, almost losing his balance.
“What are you doing here?” she asked with fragmented breaths. She left no time to answer. Instead, he watched several emotions wash over her, and her eyes scan the space. “Get out!” she told him, not caring that as she stood the pages from her lap cascaded to the floor. “Get out of here, Royce, now.” Her hands fisted near her sides and her eyes went wild. “Now! Out!”
Royce watched the change overtake her and backed away slowly, mindful that Prima was now sitting near the door whining at the confrontation. He paused in the doorway and opened his mouth to speak but
nothing came out. She watched him intently through narrowed eyes before letting out a stream of curse words in several languages directed toward him. When the tirade continued in mostly Italian, he picked up phrases like, “No privacy anywhere,” “All men typical,” and “Spying for Tony.”
Royce turned and moved down the stairs and back to the house with amazing calm. He wasn’t sure exactly what had happened but he knew he’d been wrong to go into her office uninvited. He decided that he’d be better off in one of the motels along the interstate. While tossing clothes into his bag, he heard the door open and close in the main room.
Prima nosed her way into his room and nudged his thigh for attention. He absently petted the dog to buy time before turning and confirming she was standing in the doorway. Her face was flushed, and her eyes still a little wild while snowflakes melting on her hair.
“Could we talk, please. It’s important.”
Her words were clipped, and he saw the amount of control it took to say them. She was pulling a bottle of anisette from a cabinet while the heavy demitasse coffee brewed. The cups and saucers waited beside the pot and he saw a lemon on the counter beside them.
Royce moved to the windowed wall and watched the snow falling. He thought about apologizing but figured it would be better to wait until she initiated the conversation. Carrying two cups to the coffee table, she set them both down and tended the fire that didn’t need tending.
Prima was settled in her place near the side door, and the house was finally quiet. Angela’s hair had pulled loose from the braid, and she tugged at it to free it.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scream at you.”
“I was wrong. I was in your private space.”
She glanced and nodded. “Yes. I specifically told you I liked to keep the chaos to myself.”
“Yes, you did. I was curious.”
Her eyes narrowed as she watched him. “Why are you here, Royce? You’ve been very careful to avoid telling me what brought you to Woodstock. I can only assume you’ve been sent to check on me, that the family pressured you into this visit. Did I pass your inspection? Will I get a glowing report, or should I just start packing and move back to Brooklyn? Am I supposed to abandon this life if you agree with my brothers?”
The resentment had crept back into her voice and she tried to pull it back. Her stare made him uneasy, and the truth spilled out. “I mentioned to Tony I was going to be in the area and he asked me to check on you. But I didn’t see it as an inspection, Angela. Just a visit…and I was curious for myself.” There, he’d told her part of the truth.
“I’m not going back, Royce. I’m not the same Angela that moved away two years ago, and I wasn’t the Angela they all thought I was either, but nobody took the time to notice.” She bravely looked to him before adding, “Except you.”
“I’m not asking you to move home, angel.” His affectionate turn made her eyes close tightly. “But I would like a few answers just for myself.”
She nodded to the coffee and sipped from the cup before her. Angela sat on the floor next to the table, her back to the fire drying her hair.
“What do you want to know?” she asked with a bit too much attitude.
Royce moved to the sofa and sat heavily before taking the cup to his lips. The familiar licorice scent of the anisette mixed with the coffee brought back memories of warmth and laughter.
“Everything, Angela. Like why you went ballistic when I was in your office? Why you have snapshots of me on your wall? Why you have the largest collection of sex manuals and erotica I’ve ever seen, and most of all, I want to know who you let touch you in my absence.”
He stopped, realizing what he’d said in hostility and frustration. He let his head drop into his hands and braced his elbows on his thighs, not believing she’d goaded him. When he lifted his head, she was watching him intently
and struggling to hold back the corner’s of her lip that wanted to perk up into a smile.
“Royce, we need to get a few things straight. I’m twenty-eight, and I’m not moving, no matter what you report back to the family.” She waited until he nodded. “As to going ballistic, as you so eloquently put it, I’m sorry. I woke and you were there, and I wanted…”
“What did you want?”
“I wanted to kiss you.” They stared at each other for a protracted time before she blew out a breath and laughed ruefully, her challenge defeated. “And your choice of reference material,” he prompted.
“Back to basics, Royce. We agree I’m an adult and have a right to a private life?”
“Yes, of course.”
“What we discuss here has to stay here. Can you promise me you won’t cave into pressure and tell Tony or Papa?”
“Tony is my friend, and believe it or not, I have kept a few things from him. Purely for self-preservation, mind you!” He watched her blush and loved her more. Her eyes shuddered closed and he wondered where her mind went. He whispered her name to get her attention. “Whatever you tell me, Angela stays between us.”
Studying him intently, she bought more time by making a production of refilling their cups. He was thankful for the diversion and the second shot of alcohol. After handing him his cup, she moved to the glass wall and leaned against the frame, with her back to the room.
“You know I’ve been doing research for grant applications?”
“Yeah, that’s what Tony said, although I didn’t know it paid well enough for you to afford this home. Did Vito help out?”
She laughed aloud at the question. “No, I didn’t go to Papa for help. As a matter of fact, he was quite annoyed when he realized I had the money to buy this place. Nonnie had started a savings account for me when I was a kid. She knew Vito would never think his daughter would want to be educated. She apparently made Papa put in funds that matched the boys accounts. I never touched my college fund. I went through on scholarships. That annoyed him more.
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