Roman's Heart

by Sharon Sala

  He glared. “Damn it, Billy, you’re making this harder than it has to be.”

  But Billy wouldn’t budge, and Gordon was forced to restructure his plans again.

  “I’m going to bed,” Gordon said. “You try and get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.” He left, slamming the door behind him.

  But for Billy, sleep was slow in coming. Doom was hovering on the horizon, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

  Roman woke to the smell of warm bread and creamery butter. He opened his eyes just as Holly was setting a breakfast tray on a nearby table. Her hair was piled high on her head, and the loose strands were still damp, obviously from a morning shower. The robe she was wearing was the one she’d had on when he’d arrived—sheer blue silk, with a matching gown beneath. It had taken every ounce of his willpower to leave her at the door to her room last night, but he’d done it. Now she was back, bringing temptation with her. There wasn’t a Justice alive who’d ever been accused of passing up a good thing. He saw no reason to ruin the family’s good name by starting now.

  “Good morning, baby,” he said softly, and then patted the bed. “Come here to me.”

  She did without hesitation, settling down beside him as if she’d done it a thousand times in the past.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” she said softly, touching his arm, his bare chest, then smoothing back the hair on his forehead. “I kept telling myself this has happened too fast, that you would get home, take a deep breath and realize you’d made a mistake.”

  Roman frowned. “The only mistake I made was in letting you leave alone. I had nightmares.” His frown deepened. “I haven’t had nightmares in years, at least not since...” He stopped. That was a part of his life he’d never shared, not with anyone.

  Holly waited, letting him decide how far this conversation. needed to go.

  Roman sat up in bed, pulling her close within the shelter of his arm. When she cuddled close, he settled her head beneath his chin and sighed. It was time to let go of a few ghosts of his own.

  “I don’t have a real good track record with women.”

  Again, she remained silent, giving him the freedom to pick and choose his words.

  “My mother died when I was small. That left Dad to raise us three boys by himself. Considering the hell we gave him, he did a good job.” He closed his eyes, remembering as a child the lonely, empty years of yearning for the gentleness of a mother’s touch. “I decided at a pretty young age that I was too tough to cry. I don’t know whether my older brothers drilled that into me with their constant heckling, or if it was my way of hardening my heart against any more pain.”

  Holly hurt for him. She had vague memories of her own empty years without a mother, of yearning to be held and rocked and fussed over, as only a woman can do.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she said softly.

  He smiled and then stroked her hair, letting his thoughts drift. “I thought I could handle anything life dished out. After all, I’d already lost a parent, what more was there to lose except my own life?” Then he took a deep breath.

  “That just shows how innocent and naive I still was. My senior year in high school, a new girl moved into town. Her daddy was the new head football coach at school, and her mother was my English teacher. Her name was Connie. For the next two years, we made plans. We dreamed dreams. We were inseparable. We were in love.”

  Holly held her breath, afraid to hear what came next, and at the same time, knowing it had to be said.

  “She drowned the summer between my freshman and sophomore years at college. I stood on the shore of the lake, watching her as she skied past.” He shook his head. “She was laughing and waving at me, so pretty and so full of life. Less than a minute later, a speedboat came out of nowhere and hit her. We couldn’t get to her in time to save her. I watched her live, and I watched her die. After that, I just...well, I just quit.”

  Tears were running down Holly’s cheeks. “Oh, Roman, it’s a miracle that you even gave us a chance, isn’t it?”

  Roman looked down at Holly, at the tears on her face, at the love in her eyes, and knew a great sense of belonging.

  “Naw, it wasn’t a miracle,” he said, trying to tease away the tears. “It was those damned daisy panties.”

  She laughed on a sob.

  Roman cupped her face with the palms of his hands and then wiped away all traces of her sadness.

  “I didn’t tell you that for sympathy, baby,” he said softly. “But I want you to understand that I do not—have not—given love lightly. Right now, there is a peace in my heart that hasn’t been there in years, and I have you to thank. I’ve loved and lost two very different women in my life. I’m not looking forward to losing another.”

  “But you won’t lose me. You can’t! I love you, remember?”

  “I remember a hell of a lot more than you do,” he said shortly.

  She looked away. “That’s not fair,” she muttered.

  His expression hardened, and there was a warning in his eyes that she couldn’t mistake. “You’re right. It’s not fair. None of this is fair. And telling you about my past when you’re still lost from your own may seem selfish. But you need to know something about me right now, before it’s too late. When it comes to love, I won’t fight fair...but by God, I will fight.”

  Holly tilted her face for the kiss she saw coming. Just before his mouth touched hers, she whispered, “Then that’s all I need to know.”

  Minutes later, when they had come up for air, Roman whispered against her cheek.

  “Holly...baby?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Is the door locked?”

  Drugged by the strength of his kisses, her eyelids fluttered sleepily.

  “I don’t know, why?”

  “I’m going to make love to you. Didn’t know whether you wanted an audience or not.”

  She turned the lock before he could change his mind.

  There was an uneasy quiet during lunch that day. The only person unaffected by the silence was Roman, and that was partly due to the satisfying blush he’d put on Holly’s cheeks and to the fact that he had metaphorically laid his cards on the table.

  And while it was impossible to miss the dark, anxious looks Gordon Mallory kept slinging around the table, Roman couldn’t help thinking it had nothing to do with losing Holly and everything to do with a bagful of money. The problem was, how to prove it. Since his investigator’s license did not extend to the state of Nevada, he had a little networking to do.

  A few hours later, Roman exited the court of records with a satisfied smile on his face. For a man who was supposed to be dealing in real estate, Gordon Mallory was sadly lacking in proof. There wasn’t a single piece of property in the city—or the state—that was registered in either Mallory’s name. Not only that, but neither one had ever been licensed to sell real estate.

  There was another interesting fact that he’d turned up during his afternoon search. The Mallorys no longer had a Las Vegas residence. Just prior to the flight to Nassau, they’d moved out of their apartment and discontinued their utility services.

  Roman could look at that two ways. Either Gordon had been planning on moving into the Benton estate after their marriage, or he’d never planned to come back from the Bahamas at all. With a million unclaimed dollars on board the ill-fated flight, Roman was leaning toward the last theory.

  But these were still suppositions. There was still the matter of the money. If it hadn’t been ill-gotten gains, someone would have reported it missing by now. Both Gordon and Billy should have been shouting to the heavens that it was gone.

  In Roman’s eyes, their guilt was confirmed by the simple fact that they hadn’t said a word.

  And he was honest enough with himself to admit that the possibility still existed that Holly had, in some way, been part of the scheme, but every instinct he had denied it.

  For one thing, she had no motive. It was obvious that Davis Benton would give her anything she
asked for, so she would have no need to steal money, except maybe for the thrill, and he ruled that out. She wasn’t that kind of a person. That left the Mallorys as the prime suspects, but proving their guilt would be the kicker.

  Chapter 13

  Roman returned to the mansion just as they were about to sit down to dinner. Holly had been anxiously watching the driveway. When she saw the cab pulling up to the house, she breathed a sigh of relief. She’d been dreading sitting down to dinner with Gordon and her father casting mournful looks in her direction, as if it were all her fault she didn’t remember her past.

  As Roman walked in the door, Holly took him by the arm, pulling him toward the dining room.

  “Where have you been? I thought you weren’t going to get here in time to eat with us.”

  Roman grinned. “Hey, baby, I missed you, too, but give me time to hang my hat, will you?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sorry. In my other life...which I can’t remember...I must have been a bit of a compulsive fanatic.”

  He bit the lobe of her ear and then whispered against her cheek, “If that has any bearing on the way you make love, I’m all for it.”

  Holly’s face was still pink as she entered the dining room and took a seat to her father’s right.

  “What kept you?” Davis asked.

  She picked up her napkin and then spread it across her lap.

  “Roman just arrived. He’ll be right in.”

  Davis frowned and then gestured to a maid who was standing by with a tureen of soup, waiting to serve.

  “No, don’t serve it yet,” he said. “We’re not all here.”

  Gordon cast Holly a nervous glance and then laid his own napkin in his lap. He reached for her hand.

  “Holly, my dear, how have you been? I see almost nothing of you during the day. Were you resting?”

  She moved before he could touch her. “No.”

  He cast her a soulful look. “I can see that I assumed too much when I thought we’d at least be able to talk. If you’d let me, I’m sure we could work things out between us.”

  “When nothing is there, there’s nothing to work out,” she said bluntly.

  Gordon flushed. “You’ve changed. You never used to be this cold. It’s that man. He’s brainwashed you, that’s what.”

  After what I endured, I’m lucky I still have a brain. And then Roman came in and sat down beside her, saving her from having to respond.

  Roman glanced at Davis and nodded.

  “Sorry I’m late. You shouldn’t have waited. Daddy always said if you can’t get to the table on time, then don’t complain about what you have to eat.”

  Davis laughed before he thought, and then motioned for the soup to be served.

  “I think I would like your father. What does he do?”

  A shadow crossed Roman’s face, but he didn’t hesitate to answer.

  “He was a rancher all of his life. Died in a plane crash a little over a year ago. My oldest brother, Royal, now runs the family ranch.”

  Both Holly and her father looked startled. She had known he was dead, but not how he’d died.

  “I’m sorry,” Davis said.

  “Was he flying commercial or private?”

  Roman’s mood darkened. “Private. Another of my brothers is a pilot. They were in the crash together. Ryder survived. Dad didn’t.” And then he shook off the feeling. “Ryder owns his own charter service out of Mississippi.”

  Davis nodded. “That’s a long way from Texas. How did he wind up there?”

  “He married Casey Ruban, one of Mississippi’s finest,” Roman said, and then winked at Holly.

  Davis’s spoon clinked against the bowl, a social faux pas that he rarely made. But the name startled him. Any businessman worth his salt knew that name.

  “Any kin to Delaney Ruban?” Davis asked.

  “His granddaughter.”

  “Oh,” Davis said, eyeing Roman with renewed respect.

  “I’m sorry to say I don’t know the name. Is she anyone special?” Gordon asked.

  “My brother thinks so,” Roman said.

  .Gordon flushed. He’d like nothing better than to put his fist in that man’s smug mouth, but the truth was, the man intimidated him. He was too physical...too animal. Give him a cultured crook any day of the week. At least he could speak their language.

  “She inherited a megaconglomerate from her grandfather,” Davis said. “Everyone expected her to fail at it, and instead, she’s run it with an iron hand, just like the old man did before her.”

  Gordon couldn’t help staring at Roman. He was far removed from the type of men he normally associated with and he couldn’t quite figure him out.

  “So one of your brothers is a rancher, another a pilot. What do you do?” Gordon asked.

  “I’m a private investigator. I got my license about a year after I quit the military.”

  Gordon choked on a spoonful of soup. It took several moments and a glass of water before he caught his breath.

  Perfect! This was just about perfect! A professional snoop had been added to the mess he was in.

  “Sorry,” he said, dabbing at his mouth with his napkin. “I choked.”

  Roman gave him a curious stare. “It happens.”

  “So, you’re a private investigator,” Davis said. “Who do you work for?”

  Roman never cracked a smile. “Me.”

  Davis glanced at Holly, who seemed terribly focused on her soup bowl. This was so unlike the loquacious daughter he’d known before the accident. Like Gordon, he, too, wondered if she’d been brainwashed. It wouldn’t be the first time a man had tried to get at Davis’s money through his daughter.

  “It takes a while to start up your own business,” Davis said, expecting to hear a mouthful of excuses as to why it had yet to happen.

  Roman frowned, thinking back to the first few months he’d gone into business.

  “I suppose,” he said. “But we were running in the black before the first year was out.”

  Davis’s eyebrows arched. “My goodness.”

  Gordon had had enough of soup and of Roman Justice. It was time to put the man in his place.

  “Don’t you find that sort of work mundane?” Gordon asked.

  Roman looked up, and if Gordon had known him better, would have been nervous about the look that came on his face.

  “And what kind of work are you referring to?” Roman drawled.

  “You know, cheating husbands, wayward wives, delinquent fathers and the like. It all seems so tawdry.”

  Roman’s voice softened, but the glitter in his eyes was getting colder by the minute.

  “I don’t handle domestic disputes,” he said.

  Gordon sneered. “Then what do you handle?”

  “Mostly corporate work relating to fraud, embezzlement and industrial thievery. Sometimes, if the injured parties hire me, I work in conjunction with the authorities on a pending criminal case.”

  Gordon’s cocky attitude faded. This man worked in the big leagues, and the knowledge made him nervous. Stealing a million dollars was big; murdering to get it was about as big as it got. He glanced at Holly and then down at his plate. Damn, damn, damn her devious little hide. What the hell had she done with his money?

  Davis eyed Roman with renewed respect. He knew all too well what fees that sort of work demanded. So, maybe Holly’s instincts weren’t so far wrong after all. And maybe he was a man to be trusted, but just in case... He glanced at Holly, remembering that he’d promised her no background investigation, but it wouldn’t hurt to make a couple of calls.

  Just then the maid came in with the main course.

  “Ah,” Davis said. “Prime rib, my favorite.”

  Holly smiled. “And lobster, and venison, and...” She caught herself. “Oh! I’m doing it again!”

  Davis all but clapped his hands with delight. “Wonderful! Isn’t this wonderful, Gordon? Billy is on the road to recovery. And my precious Holly, who we thought was lost to
us forever, is getting well before our eyes!”

  Roman looked at her and winked. “And the more time passes, the easier the memories will come.”

  Gordon tried to smile, but his belly was too full of panic to manage more than a weak grin. He had to do something to delay the inevitable. His mind was in a whirl as he forked a bit of the meat. Think, Gordon, think! You beat Carl Julian at his own game. You can do this, too.

  He chewed thoughtfully, his eyes on his plate, but his mind on the business at hand. Suddenly, something occurred to him. He looked up.

  “Holly, dear, I’ve been thinking about how frightened you must have been when you fell out of the plane, and how brave you were to find your way to shelter.” He beamed at her, knowing he was on the right track. “Did you have to walk far after your parachute landed?”

  She didn’t bother to hide her surprise. In all the time she’d been home, this was the first time Gordon had showed any interest in the actual events that had happened to her.

  “I don’t know. Probably,” she said. “I had no way of judging distance.”

  He looked suitably concerned. “I say, Justice, where is your cabin located as opposed to where Holly landed?”

  Roman’s mind was on something else. Something Gordon just said was bothering him, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. It took him a moment or two to answer.

  “Probably a good two or three miles downhill, although that’s just a guess. I saw no need to retrace her steps to check her story. And even if I had wanted to, the snow prevented us from doing anything about it.”

  But Gordon wouldn’t let go.

  “Must be nice to have your own cabin. I might look into something like that as an investment.” Then he added. “I’m in real estate, you know. Is it far from Denver?”

  Now Roman knew he was lying about something. Mallory had no ties to the real-estate business.

  “A couple of hours southwest, as the crow flies.”

  Gordon nodded, then proceeded to butter a piece of bread, letting the conversation drop. This was getting him nowhere. The man was too cagey, and he couldn’t press the issue or they’d begin to wonder why he cared. However, he’d figured another way to eliminate a possibility. All he had to do was call in a few favors from some people he knew. After that, he’d know which way to proceed.