I heft my bags into the luggage area and press the button to close the tailgate before heading to the right side.
She looks at me a little strange as she gets in behind the wheel. Then I realize my mistake and move around to the left-hand side of the vehicle.
“I’m going to do that more than once, I know.” I forsee.
Carlene laughs as she confidently maneuvers the big vehicle from the carpark and down the narrow exit ramp. “For sure. I lost track of the amount of times I did it in the States.”
“Thanks, for picking me up. I know I didn’t really give you many options. I saw your text, and I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to talk to you. And then I kind of decided I needed to see you, and well, you know the rest.”
“It was a good surprise hearing from you,” she admits quietly. “Which hotel are you staying at?”
That sets me back. Where am I staying?
“Um, with you, I assumed.” Fuck, maybe I have this all wrong.
Maybe she meant what she’d said all along.
Could I have read it that wrong?
I watch her hands tighten on the wheel. “Well, I um...didn’t know what to think or assume.”
My heart has jumped back up from my chest to lodge firmly in my throat.
I need to take control of this situation right now. How can she not know I’m serious? Doesn’t dropping everything and flying halfway around the world spell this out?
“Carlene, I’m going to lay it out right now. I came here with one intention and one intention only…” She glances across at me from her position behind the wheel with a worried look on her face. “I came here to see if what we have is real. To see if we, as a couple, a real relationship, could work without the stigma of how we met hanging over our heads. I felt a connection with you I’ve never felt with anyone else. I want to explore that and see where it takes us, and I got the feeling you wanted the same but couldn’t because of the situation.”
“Rome…” she sucks my name in on a breath.
“It’s Daniel Roman Langdon, to be totally accurate. I want us to be totally honest with each other. I’m going to start by giving you my real name and not the persona I used when I was working.”
When I was working.
I’m already talking and thinking in the past tense. If she doesn’t go for what I want then I might as well return to the game and carry on. The thought flashes into my mind for an instant before I dismiss it.
Regardless of what happens between us, I can’t go back. Rome the escort is retired. That chapter of my life is closed.
“Daniel,” she whispers as if trying my name on for size. “Will you be upset if I accidently call you Rome?”
I laugh at the concern in her voice. “No, baby. I’ve been Rome for ten years now. I’m not sure I’ll remember to answer to Daniel or Dan anymore. Just please don’t call me Danny. My mom used to at times, and the thought just grates.”
“Okay, I’ll try to remember,” she says with an amused smirk.
I take a deep breath, needing to get this conversation back on track. I need to find out if she is feeling the same I am. Whether she’s prepared to give us a go.
“Are you going to give us a go, Oz?” There’s a hint of desperation and pleading in my tone, and I’m not going to make any apology for it. Desperate is exactly how I am as I wait to know my fate.
Carlene
A relationship!
Rome, this amazing, sexy, intelligent man is asking for a relationship with me, the country hick from outback Australia…the very thought both excites me and terrifies me at the same time. He’s travelled half way around the world to ask me in person to give us a go.
They were the words I wanted but also resisted in the States. He is right. Here we have the chance of a fresh start without the prospect of his job being thrown in our faces as a stark reminder of how we met.
I want to. My heart is screaming “yes,” but there are so many things we need to resolve. I’m old enough and wise enough to know there are practicalities to be worked out, regardless what our hearts might be telling us. Long distance relationships never work.
But isn’t that getting ahead of myself?
His job, for one. That, I can’t do, and I’m such a hypocrite for even thinking, let alone asking him to do something about it. Providing a service for women is the truth of how we met. Nothing will change the fact, and I’m not sure I have the right to ask it of him.
“There are so many things to think about…” I murmur as I drive down the motorway toward the coast.
“And that’s exactly why I’m here. I want to sort the details out ‘til there’s nothing left except possibility and the opportunity for us to have the kind of future I know we can together.”
Possibility and opportunity, what a heady and exciting combination. He sounds so sincere, and what he’s suggesting is more than I can ever have imagined. Those two weeks we spent together were magical, and he is offering me the possibility of extending the time—permanently.
But what is he like when he isn’t working? When he doesn’t have to please the client? Will he be the same Rome, or Daniel? I don’t know and there’s a little piece of me, screaming, “don’t ruin the memories.”
“I can see you thinking over there, Carlene. To be honest, it looks more like you’re stressing. Talk to me. What are you concerned about? What do you want to know? I promise, I’ll answer anything you want, no secrets between us.”
He couldn’t be more open and accommodating than that, could he? Open communication was never something I had with Phillip. It always seemed to be a one-way street. His way, and my needs or opinions a distant second.
“I’m wondering how much of what we had was real and how much was you doing the job you were paid to do…although apparently, payment seems to be another point of contention.”
“And I’ve already told you, I’m not taking your money. So, you can forget trying to return it. Point of contention resolved.”
The irony of it. I haven’t even agreed to trying a relationship, and we’re arguing about money. I’m not doing it twice in my life. “Fine. If that’s what you want. You win.”
“It’s what I want,” he says emphatically. “I need you to understand why I’m being so adamant about it. If I take your money, it was a job. I don’t think of our time together as a job, and I don’t want the issue of money to make it so. I’ve never returned a cent I’ve earned in the past. I want everything about us to be different.”
He looks so determined, and I can also see how important this is to him. I was just concerned he’d be out of pocket, and it isn’t fair to him.
“Carlene, I also want to let you know, I may have started down the road of being an escort with the ass out of my pants but that’s not the case anymore. I’m very comfortable financially and can more than support myself and the lady in my life in a very fine lifestyle. I’d probably go as far as saying luxurious. What I’m trying to say is, I don’t want your money, in case you’re worried or concerned. I’ve made plenty and invested wisely, I don’t need or want yours.”
I’d never talked to Rome about the extent of my wealth. It still made me uncomfortable at times.
Nor have I ever gotten the vibe from Rome he’s the least bit interested in what I could buy or provide for him. And I know my senses are attuned to pick up on predators.
Those couple of times I’d dated before Rome had tested all my alert systems, and they worked just fine. One dinner date had never progressed to a second or third, essentially for this very reason. I’m still ignoring calls from one guy who just won’t take the hint.
“I’m not worried about that, but thank you for mentioning it. One thing I don’t want to ever have to do again is argue over money. It almost killed me with Phillip. I’m not doing that again.”
“Okay, we’re in agreement on that point, then. And to answer your original question, about whether you know the real me. You’ll have to find out, I guess. I think I was ab
out as real as I could be with you, given the circumstances. You made it easy for me. Carlene, without bringing up the obvious, you were a dream client, and I think that’s why we clicked. Nothing felt like work with you. I really did feel more and more like I was on a vacation with my special lady.”
He’s right. I would have to see if he’s different outside our previous time together, and there’s only one way to do that. Try.
It’s heartening to hear, he thinks of me as his special lady.
There’s one last major stumbling block, and it’s the deal breaker.
“This all sounds so good Ro…Daniel…” we both chuckle at my slight slip. “I told you.” I point at him before working up the courage to lay it out there.
“I’m going to be honest, because I don’t want to lead you on and also because I don’t know how to do this any other way.”
“And I love that about you, Oz. I know you’ll give me the truth, and I know you’ll be sincere about it.”
Love.
He said the L word. Is that a figure of speech or is he really in love with me? And I still need to get out what I have to say before I let my mind start churning through everything.
“I know it’s not my right to ask, but I’m not sure how I can broach this any other way. I’m just going to state my position here.” I scrunch my eyes together momentarily then jump in. “I can’t be with you if you’re working. I can’t and won’t share. I know it’s wrong of me to ask this of you, but these are my terms. I also know I sound like a huge hypocrite, and it pains me as well to be this way. There’s just no easy answer here.”
There’s a moment of awkward silence between us, and it takes me a second to gather the courage to glance across at him to read his thoughts.
What I don’t expect to see is a big open smile gracing his Hollywood-worthy face.
“Sure, there’s an easy answer. It’s a good thing I made my last client you, then.”
I struggle to keep my focus on the road as his words sink in.
“Surprised?” he eventually asks.
“Yes.” I admit—shocked, stunned, terrified, excited all at once.
Sure, I’ve fantasized about him giving up the life for me, I just never expected it, which is why I haven’t pushed or even really hoped before. I guess I hadn’t wanted to set myself up for the disappointment.
He places his hand on my thigh. The first real affectionate gesture we’ve shared since our greeting at the airport.
“Carlene, I don’t want you to dwell on what you just asked of me. It’s something I always knew and I made the decision from the outset, I wouldn’t pursue a relationship with anyone while I was working in the game. It’s not fair on my partner, nor is it fair on me. There are some who can do it. I’m not wired that way. I knew I couldn’t, so for me, it was all or nothing. Now I’m choosing the nothing. I don’t want the escort life anymore.”
The longer he talks, the lighter and more hopeful my heart becomes. If Rome is giving up the life, we have a real chance at a successful relationship.
“Now, Oz, I have a question for you.” My attention is pulled from my thoughts once again. “I don’t want you to answer right away. I selfishly want your eyes on mine when you give me your answer.”
Intrigued. Rome, has me downright intrigued by what he wants to ask me. It must be something important and dear to him if he’s insisting on me looking at him as he asks.
“I can see your brain whirring, and it should be. What I’m going to ask you will more than likely form a fundamental part of our relationship. If you can’t get past this one, then once again, there isn’t much point going on.”
Right. This has me really worried.
“I’m just going to ask it and remember, I don’t want an answer now. I want it when you’re certain. Can you see yourself with someone like me, an ex-escort, knowing what’s in my past?”
I don’t even think, before I begin to protest.
“But…”
“Shhh…think on it and tell me when you know either way. I won’t like it, but I’ll understand if you can’t do it. It was always a risk with this line of work. Until then, I’m going to enjoy every moment with you, for however long you’ll have me. If it can possibly be forever, then I’ll say it would suit me perfectly.”
Forever.
He’s placing his whole future in my hands—trusting me to make a decision I can live with.
Rome is going all in with his heart and future. Can I return the trust and do the same?
Chapter 29
Rome
Carlene lets me into her apartment, and I strategically drop my luggage in the foyer rather than make things awkward. Worst case, I’ll be relegated to the guest room. Not going to happen if I have anything to say about it. But I know I have to play my cards right.
I have to re-establish the easy rapport we had while she was in the States with me. I know what I’d felt between us, and I know she felt it too. I just need her to feel free enough to embrace it once more—this time for real with no emotional barriers.
She’s fussing in the kitchen, and I choose to move out to the balcony. Her apartment is a sub-penthouse and quite frankly, stunning. The décor timeless, stylish, and understated—Carlene to a tee. If the apartment is gorgeous then the view from the balcony is out-of-this-world.
I fully understand now why she didn’t go stark raving mad over some of the places we stayed in the States. I thought it was because she was reserved. Maybe not. What she has at home is pretty damned amazing. Unobstructed views of the Pacific Ocean as far as the eye can see. Yeah, it would take a bit to top this. And almost immediately, I’m in love with the scenery almost as much as I’m in love with Carlene.
Yep—love.
I finally admitted it to myself, on the plane. It’s amazing what a few hours with my thoughts and a little honesty can do for some clarity. Particularly, once I moved to a point where I’m ready to accept what my heart is screaming at me to recognize and embrace. Now I just have to find the right moment to tell her, without putting pressure on her.
My actions have justifiably thrown her for a bit of a loop. Carlene is direct, up front, considered, and honest. Reckless and impulsive are not words I’d use to describe her. If she didn’t want me here, she’d have told me up front. She’s trying to figure out her balance here.
Right then, I realize something else very important, as well. I’ve known in my heart from when she left, it was up to me to make the first move. I just hadn’t acted on it until the need to see her and be with her again became too great. I’d needed to know if this was my future. Now I’m certain.
I can sense she’s open and interested, she just doesn’t quite know how to behave to bridge the gap between us. In fact, I can only imagine at the internal war she has going on in her head right now. I’ve barged in and upset the routine of her life. I want to be part of her routine—scratch that—I want us to create a new routine.
Carlene finally joins me on the balcony. She hands me a juice and looks a little unsure of herself. I’ve come barreling into her life again with very little warning and certainly no prior explanation of my intentions.
“I thought we could start with a juice. I wasn’t sure if you’d want a coffee yet. You’re probably zonked. Do you want to catch some sleep?” Her eyes scream concern and caution but I also see a latent heat I know can turn into a raging fire given the right encouragement
The look in her eyes is enough. The concern genuine and deep. She cares for me, and she wants me. I don’t need to know anything more, right now. What I did need to do is end this feeling of “walking on eggshells.” Fortunately, I’m confident I know just the way to do it.
I take a sip from the glass. “Thanks. This is great for now. I had enough coffee on the plane and no, I’m good for sleep, at the moment. Can’t promise I won’t crash out a little later, though.” I let my mouth pull up in an easy smile.
She nods. “I was pleasantly surprised, when I came back. I didn�
�t seem to suffer from jetlag at all. Someone said it’s going this way around the Earth. I’m not sure, I haven’t travelled enough to really know.”
We’ll be back to small talk in no time, if I don’t take control of things. Carlene is strong and independent, but I know, without a doubt, she prefers to have a man in her life taking charge where it counts and to support her when she needs it. She loves and craves companionship. I’ve watched her morph from being closed off, naïve, and reserved to being open, relaxed, funny, and down-right sexy. I want the confident, sassy woman back—my woman.
Time to put to good use all the experience I’ve accumulated with women. Finally, I have a woman I want to call—the one!
I take another sip from the glass then place it on the nearby table. Then I take the glass from her hands as well before moving back to her and pulling her into my arms. Immediately, I feel my body start to relax and warm to a whole better sort of tension than the type I’ve been feeling.
“There is one thing I want,” I whisper close to her ear.
She lets out a little moan, and I’m even more encouraged. I run my hand down the side of her face before cupping her jaw and drawing my thumb over her lips. Her eyes have ignited into a storm of need with just the slightest touch of her body against mine.
“I want a kiss, Oz. A real one. One that will curl your toes and make my cock so hard, I’m in danger of busting my zipper.”
Her hands start to stroke up and down my back, and her hips shift forward suggestively to meet mine. She needs this as much as I do.
“Yes,” she breathes and tilts her head back slightly, waiting for me to close the distance.
I don’t need a further invitation. I need to reconnect with my woman in the basest of ways. I need to remind her the only place for her is with me.
My lips meet hers, and instantaneously, I’m awash with the rightness of the connection. Hers lips feel soft and velvety against mine, as if waiting to welcome me back to her. The kiss is everything I remembered, hoped for, and so much more.
When With Rome (Perfect Gentlemen Book 1) Page 32
