Robin Kaye Bundle

by Robin Kaye

  “Right. Don’t insult my intelligence, Becca. You didn’t tell me about the offer because then I’d know you weren’t broke. You treated me as if I was one of your asshole friends only interested in your dough.”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “I just couldn’t figure out why you wanted to marry me. No one has ever wanted to marry me before—not because they loved me. The only reason anyone ever wanted to marry me was to get my trust fund, and when I heard the dean, well, I thought history was repeating itself. I jumped to conclusions, and I said some horrible things. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

  “Damn straight you were wrong. I don’t care about your money. I don’t want your money. Hell, all I ever wanted was you. Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

  “You’re the psych professor. Ever hear of conditioned response? But then Annabelle says I have low self-esteem.” She shrugged and wrapped her arms around herself. “Maybe she’s right. I’m sorry I called you those names. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the partnership offer. I miss you, and I want you back. I want us back. But there’s something you need to know first.”

  “What is it now?”

  “It’s about my money. You see, I never spent a penny of my trust fund. I wanted to make it on my own.”

  “Wow, that’s a surprise.”

  Becca barely kept from rolling her eyes. “I invested every cent of the money that came to me through my trust, and I’m good at it. I’ve done very well. So, in the interest of full disclosure, you should know that I’m extremely wealthy.”

  “Here’s a news flash Bec—I never gave a shit about money, yours or anyone else’s. My only concern was that you had enough to support your art. If you needed it, I would have helped.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She moved forward to meet his eyes. Okay, now would be a good time for him to say something or do something. Frankly, she was pretty much all talked out, but he just lay there staring. She couldn’t even read his expression. “Rich?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

  “No, I’m kind of enjoying watching you squirm.”

  She nudged his leg with Annabelle’s spiked heel. “You’re such an asshole!”

  Rich moved so quickly she screamed, landed flat on her back, and had the air knocked out of her when all two hundred pounds of him landed squarely on top of her. He pinned her down, his hand holding her wrists over her head.

  He grinned, and for the first time in over a month, Becca felt whole. “God, I missed you.”

  Becca tried to free her hands to no avail. “That’s it? I spill my guts, and all you have to say is you missed me?”

  Rich pulled the towel from between them and slid between her legs, pushing the skirt she wore higher as he kissed the corner of her mouth. Becca’s heart pounded, and her breath was so shallow and rapid, she wondered if she would hyperventilate. She tried to get her mind back on the topic at hand and away from the way he pressed against her panties.

  “I love you.”

  Still not what she was going for. “Is there anything you want to ask me?”

  “Just one thing. Could you leave the boots on?”

  “What? Did you just ask me to leave my boots on?”

  Rich raked his teeth over her neck. “Yeah, they’re really hot boots.”

  “That’s it? That’s the only question you want to ask me?”

  “No, but I can’t very well ask you to marry me again until I put my pants back on, get down on one knee, and you know, try to do it right this time. Aunt Rose will come back and smack me upside the head, and frankly, that would be a bit embarrassing considering our relative position. So, what do you say?”

  This time Becca wasn’t making a mental list. Rich supposed that was a good thing. She shot him a beautiful watery smile before nodding, and then she said the one word he wanted most to hear. “Yes.”

  “Thank God.” He released her hands. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Nothing before had prepared him for the cataclysm of emotion that shot through him with one kiss. It was a mixture of hope, love, and energy mixed with excitement, passion, and a whole lot of need—the need to belong, the need to love, and be loved. He let all the feelings he’d held back for the past month flow out of him.

  With one flick of the wrist, Becca’s panties were history. He swallowed her groan as he joined his body with hers. He reeled from the heat, the intensity, and the emotion. When he opened his eyes and saw their reflection in hers, it sent them both spiraling out of control. It was a melding of souls but with the power of the big bang. She wrapped her legs around him, her boots digging into his back, urging him faster, harder, deeper. He pushed her top up and sucked her breast deep into his mouth as she came apart. The combination was all it took to send them both over the edge of sanity straight into heaven.

  “Rich, the kitchen timer is going off.”

  He cracked one eye open, which was about all the movement he was capable of. Becca was stuck under him, and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to move again.

  “Rich?”

  He grunted. That used the rest of the energy he possessed.

  She flexed her inner muscles and had him blowing his breath through his teeth. “What’s the matter?”

  “Just recovering from a near death experience—give me a minute, okay?’

  “Sure.” She patted his shoulder, planted a boot on the bed, arched her back, and slid out from beneath him. “I’ll go take care of whatever it is you have in the oven.”

  He may have grunted again, and he could swear she kissed his neck before he floated back into a blissful sleep. When he awoke, he was alone. Panic ripped though him. “Becca?” He vaulted out of bed, grabbed his jeans, and was jumping up and down pulling them on when she came in.

  “What’s the matter?”

  Rich ran his hands through his hair. “You were gone, and… Christ Bec, I thought you’d left.”

  Becca came to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She was dressed in a pair of her old ratty sweats she’d forgotten in the laundry when she left. He never thought he’d see the day when he was happy to see her dressed like Becca again. She held him tight and nuzzled his neck. “I was just putting dinner on the table. It looks as if Aunt Rose spent all day cooking for us. We really shouldn’t let it go to waste. Besides, I’m starving.”

  Rich ran his hands down her back and pulled her closer. “Okay, let’s go eat.” He stepped back, went to his closet, grabbed his lucky shirt, and slid it on. “We need to talk about a few things.” He grabbed her hand and led her out of the bedroom, not wanting to let her go.

  Becca sat and looked at him. There was a worry line between her eyes. “What kind of things?”

  Rich poured the wine that Aunt Rose had left to breathe. “Don’t look so worried. I just need to make sure we’re going about this the right way. I don’t think I can take another screw up. I swear I think I’ve aged ten years in the last month.”

  Becca took a gulp of her wine. “Okay, I agree. So shoot.”

  “I’m thinking of leaving Columbia.”

  “What? Why would you do that?”

  “I don’t want you to ever resent the fact that I’m there, and your family is well known at Columbia. I didn’t get where I am because of you and your family. I know that. I hope you do too. But if we’re together, we’re going to be expected to play an active role in the university. If that’s a problem for you, it would be better if I don’t renew my contract.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “Babe, I’ve been a professor without you. It’s a job. It’s not my life. You are. There are plenty of things I could do for a living that won’t put a wedge between us.”

  “But what about your students, your research? You’re a great teacher.”

  “I can teach anywhere. I can be a high school counselor. I can start a private pr
actice. There are a lot of things I can do.”

  “But what about kids like Brad?”

  Rich shrugged and cut into his chicken. “There’s no shortage of professors.”

  “No, there’s just a shortage of good, caring professors.” She got out of her chair and went to kneel beside his. She took his hands in hers and swallowed hard. “Rich, I’ve learned a few things over the month we’ve been apart too. I’ve spent so much of my life running away from who I am, I almost lost myself in the process. No matter what, I’m always going to be Dr. Christopher Larsen and Bitsy Larsen’s daughter, but that doesn’t define me. My life and what I do with it does. If you want to change your career, do it. If you’re happy at Columbia, stay. I’m going to be fine with it either way.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive. So, is that it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Is that what you wanted to be sure of so we don’t screw this up?”

  He knew he was looking at her strangely, but heck, what did she expect? “Yeah, that about covers it.”

  “Okay. Good.” She put both hands behind her neck and unlatched a necklace she wore, dropping it into the palm of her hand. “Rich.” She took a deep breath and blew it out.

  “Becca, what are you doing?”

  “I love you, and the last month we’ve been apart has been awful. I saw my life without you in it, and it’s not the life I want to lead.”

  “Bec—”

  “Please don’t interrupt. I’ve been practicing, not with the cat, of course, because he’s been here with you. But I did practice what I would say in my head on the subway on the way here. It’s not like I could kneel down in the getup your sister made me wear so just let me finish.”

  Rich slid off his chair and pushed it away so he was kneeling in front of her. “Okay.”

  “I want to be with you forever. I want to share my life, my love, everything I am, and everything I’ll ever be, with you and only you. You told me once that you’d never ask me to marry you again. You said if I wanted to marry you, I’d have to do the asking. So I’m asking you. Rich, will you marry me? I made this puzzle ring years ago at school. I thought that someday I’d give it to the other part of me. I want you to be a part of me. It’s two pieces that fit perfectly together—just like us.” She slid the two pieces of the ring together for him. “And then it makes the eternity symbol, because I want to be with you forever and a day.”

  “Becca, I was going to ask you to marry me. Only this time, I was going to try to do it right. Look.” He dug his hand in his pocket and pulled out the ring Aunt Rose had given him. He shrugged. “I didn’t make you the ring. Hell, I didn’t even pick it out. Aunt Rose gave it to me because she wanted you to have it.”

  “You were going to propose to me? But you said—”

  “Since when do you listen to what I say?”

  Becca smiled and sniffled at the same time. “I always listen. I just rarely do what you tell me to do.”

  “Becca, will you marry me?”

  She laughed. “Oh, no you don’t. I asked first.”

  “Technically, I asked first. You asked second.”

  Becca rolled her eyes. “Are you going to answer my question, or are we going to fight about this?”

  “If we fight, then we get to make up again.”

  “Rich, I have a feeling we’re going to be making up for the rest of our lives.”

  He kissed her as he slid his ring on her finger. “God I hope so.”

  The End

  Acknowledgments

  Even though writing is a solitary endeavor, publishing isn’t. I’d like to thank the people who have helped me.

  First and foremost my husband, Stephen, who is the most loving, supportive man I’ve ever known and is a true Domestic God.

  My children, Tony, Anna, and Isabelle, who don’t complain when Mom is on deadline and they’re eating sandwiches for dinner.

  April Line, who read countless scenes and answered the all-important question: Does this suck?

  All my friends at the Carlisle Crossing Starbucks who kept me in coffee and laughter.

  My agent, Kevan Lyon.

  The whole Sourcebooks team, especially my friend and editor Deb Werksman, publicist Danielle Jackson, and my publisher Dominique Raccah.

  About the Author

  Robin Kaye was born in Brooklyn, New York, and grew up in the shadow of the Brooklyn Bridge next door to her Sicilian grandparents. Living with an extended family that’s a cross between Gilligan’s Island and The Sopranos, minus the desert isle and illegal activities, explains both her comedic timing and the cast of quirky characters in her books.

  She’s lived in half a dozen states, from Idaho to Florida, but the romance of Brooklyn has never left her heart. She currently resides in Maryland with her husband, three children, two dogs, and a three-legged cat with attitude.

  Robin loves to hear from readers. Please visit her website at www.RobinKayeWrites.com.