by T. M. Cromer
That was the thought that had her shoving him off. “No.”
He groaned in disappointment, but was quick to accede to her wishes. Royce flopped on his back and rested an arm over his eyes. His chest expanded and contracted with each breath of air he drew.
“I’m sorry,” she said, unsure as to why she felt so guilty. It wasn’t as if she’d invited him to her room or promised they’d be bumping nasties tonight.
“You have no reason to be sorry, Hope,” he said gently, lifting his arm to fix her with his warm regard. “I just need a few to get myself under control before heading back to my room.”
A check of her clock showed eleven-fifteen. “Want to watch a movie?”
He lifted himself on his elbows. “What’d you have in mind? Porn?”
Royce hadn’t expected the pillow to his face, but he really should’ve. “Is that a no?”
“Shut up, and tell me - besides porn - what kind of movies you like.”
Her prim voice had him fighting a smile. She was fun to tease and quick to engage. “Does this mean, I can stay in your room a while longer and try to change your mind?”
“Yes and no.”
“Spoilsport,” he teased. The blush coating her cheeks thrilled him. “I’m good with anything.”
“Here’s the remote. You decide, and I’ll go make us some popcorn.”
“Deal.”
He watched her make her way to the door, admiring the view of her boy shorts. There was enough firm ass cheek showing to have blood rushing to his head. She tossed her hair and sent him a warning glare over her shoulder.
“No porn,” she mouthed.
“No corn?” he asked, knowing well it would get her goat.
She gave him the universal sign of watching him - two fingers gesturing back and forth from her eyes to his.
He laughed. It was impossible not to. She was adorable. “So no Magic Mike?”
“That’s not porn. That’s pure art.”
“Ha! That’s mommy porn.”
“You may have a point. Pick something. I’ll be back in five.”
As he thumbed through the channels on the remote, Royce saw nothing on the tv screen. His thoughts were too preoccupied with their two kisses. Though they technically had three, he wasn’t going to count the one where he’d passed out. No, that was best forgotten.
The passion was definitely there between the two of them. He couldn’t understand why he found it next to impossible to keep his hands to himself. Sure she was sexy as all get out, but he’d seen sexier. More beautiful too. Hell, as an agent to some of the worlds top models, he could’ve taken his pick. There was a never ending supply. Had he been less scrupulous he could’ve dipped in their agency’s pool of women. None of that mattered. What did matter was that he was attracted to a client. If he wasn’t careful, he could screw everything up.
He set the remote down and shifted his legs to stand. The smartest thing he could do would be to ignore this attraction and return to his room. Then, from here on out, keep his distance. Unfortunately for him, she chose that moment to stroll into the room. The smell of fresh, buttery popcorn waifed his way. If asked, he would have said he couldn’t eat another bite after their incredible dessert, but his mouth watered. Could be that was because Hope stood before him in her skimpy shorts and nearly sheer tank top with headlights showing, food in one hand, and a bottle of wine in the other. His willpower sucked.
Knees suddenly weak, he sank back down on the bed. He was in Trouble with a capital T.
“What did you decide on?” she asked, bending to place the popcorn and wine down on the nightstand.
Transfixed on the curve of her ass, he said, “You.”
She grinned and shoved his shoulder. “I told you, I’m not going there tonight.”
“Tonight? So tomorrow is an option?”
Hope giggled and climbed on the bed, fluffed the pillows, and rested her back against the headboard. “We agreed on lunch. Although, dinner is definitely an option. As for anything else, I don’t want you to think badly of me.”
“I swear to God I won’t,” he promised, hand in the air like a boy scout.
Again, she laughed. “Come on, Romeo, pick a movie.”
“You pick it. I’m not going to be able to watch anything but your chest anyway.” He attempted to inch down the neckline of her top.
She swatted his hand. “You’re worse than a high schooler! For that, we’re watching Notting Hill.”
He let out a faux groan. Since he’d never seen it, he didn’t know if he’d like it or not, but it elicited another laugh from Hope, which had been his goal. Whatever he could do or say to make her smile was a win.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, suddenly serious. “I’ve never clicked with someone so instantaneously.”
Her eyes flew wide and softened with emotion. They became lost in each other until the sound of a door slamming caused her to jump. She scrambled off the mattress, grabbed a cover-up he hadn’t even known was at the foot of the bed, and ran out of the room. Having no choice, he followed to make sure things were okay. Before exiting, he sent a wry look to his semi-erection and adjusted himself to get more comfortable.
As he left her bedroom, he collided with her brother Val. He never saw the punch coming. As he slammed into the wall, he decided he’d had enough of these damn Fiores. They were hell on him physically.
“Jesus Christ!” he swore. “What the fuck?”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Hope shoved Val and knelt beside Royce to assess his latest injury.
“Want to explain what you are doing in my sister’s room when you already have a girlfriend?” Val raged.
“You have a girlfriend?” Hope sounded hurt.
“No, I don’t have a girlfriend!” he spoke to her first before turning his attention to Val. “And nothing happened. We were watching a damned movie.”
“What about Ashley? You think you can just treat her like yesterday’s garbage?”
“What the hell are you… Ah!” Royce had been so caught up in everything Hope, he forgot Ashley’s declaration that they were an item.
“Yeah, ‘Ah!’ What do you have to say for yourself now, asshole?” Val demanded.
Royce rubbed the spot between his brows. The headache forming had him getting irritable. “Last I checked, it was no business of yours,” he said coldly.
He shot a look Hope’s way and saw she hid a grin from her brother. She remembered their earlier conversation, and he was grateful that was one hothead Fiore sibling off his back.
“It is my business. She… I…” Frustration apparent, Val lunged and Royce braced himself for the impact that never came.
Hope jumped between them to confront her brother, shoulders back and protective female persona in place. “Don’t you touch him again, Val. He’s done nothing wrong.”
“How can you say that? You’ve known him all of five minutes. You don’t know anything about him.”
One emotion after another chased across her face: chagrin, worry, acknowledgement, and regret. Royce suspected the regret was going to be for telling him whatever they’d started in the last few hours was over. His heart turned over in his chest. It shouldn’t bother him. Yet, for some unexplainable reason, it did.
“Let me throw on a sweatshirt and jeans. I’ll run you back to the hotel,” she said softly to Royce.
“Don’t bother. Ashley’s downstairs waiting to take him. She arrived a few minutes ago,” Val informed them.
“Oh, okay.” Hope seemed thrown for a moment, unsure what she should be doing. “I’ll walk you down.”
“I think he can find the front door, Hope,” snarked Val.
“Valentino, I thought I taught you better manners.”
Both siblings froze in place.
“I will not have you treating a guest in my house so disrespectfully. Nor will you talk to your sister like that. You will apologize to them both, then tell Ashley that Royce will be a little longer. After that is
done, wait for me in the kitchen.”
Val’s fury kicked up a notch at being reprimanded like a child. A glare in his direction told Royce it would be a cold day in Hell before the man said he was sorry.
“Val,” Hope warned under her breath.
Royce could’ve sworn Val bared his teeth in some semblance of a snarl before he stalked away - without issuing an apology.
“Hope, dear, say goodnight to your young man.”
“He’s not my young man, Mama…” she trailed off after she realized she was talking to thin air. Her mother had already headed downstairs.
“Are you okay?” she asked him.
“No. Not in the least. If one more person hits me, I’m going to lose my shit,” he warned, low and lethal.
“Come, let’s get that bloody nose cleaned up.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll do it when I get back to the hotel.” He didn’t mean to be gruff, but he was out of sorts. Embarrassment for being on the receiving end of a third punch of the day, combined with sexual frustration, added to irritation over a missed opportunity to get to know Hope better, had him surly as a lion with a thorn in its paw.
At the top of the stairs, he glanced back at Hope. She was still staring at the spot where he’d been knocked against the wall. With her back to him, he had no idea what she was thinking. Probably what a wuss he was that he hadn’t fought back. He couldn’t leave it like this.
“Hope?”
When he had her attention, he strode back to her. He ran the pad of his thumb over her lower lip, wishing to do wicked things to that mouth.
“I’m sorry for being an ass. I’m also sorry we didn’t get to watch our movie.”
And just like that she smiled. Bright and beautiful. It did strange things to his insides.
“Goodnight, Royce.”
Chapter 6
Over the next two days, Hope saw little of Royce. He never called about their tentative lunch date. She’d hung out at the bistro both days between eleven-thirty and one. If it seemed odd to Lexi or the other patrons, no one said. Although, if she were being honest with herself, she had to appear desperate. The laptop and notepad were a thin disguise.
While Royce was in avoidance mode, the same couldn’t be said of her pain in the ass brother, Val. Every time she happened to glance up from whatever she was working on, he was there, scowling. She’d have felt bad for him if he’d been even a tiny bit nicer about the whole incident and apologized to Royce.
“Stop your daydreaming and pick faster, Hope. These grapes need to be harvested before sometime next year.”
Hope looked out over the long rows of the vineyard. If it weren’t detrimental to their family’s business, she’d start hurling every last damn piece of fruit at her brother’s arrogant head. “Bite me.”
“I volunteer,” came a deep voice behind her, making her jump.
She rolled her eyes and remained silent because she recognized the voice as belonging to Coby. He’d eventually get to the point of being here.
“Hey, Hope.”
“Hey, Coby.”
“I thought I’d stop by to see if you were interested in catching dinner or a movie tonight.”
Val smirked, lifted a brow, and sauntered away. He damn well knew she avoided being alone with Coby for a multitude of reasons. One being his relentless pursuit.
“Coby, you’re a nice guy. But to be honest, I’m not interested in dating you.” That’s what she wanted to say. Instead, she hemmed and hawed, looking for a reason not to hurt his feelings.
Out of the blue, a warm, solid arm encircled her waist. Royce. She didn’t have to look. Her body leaned back into his, and she let out a heartfelt sigh.
“Hi,” he murmured, lips against her hair.
“Hi,” she returned, inexplicably happy. She tilted her head to the side to glimpse his handsome face. “Have you come to help pick grapes?”
He lifted his cast. “If you have room for a one-armed worker. Plus, you’ll have to give me one on one instruction.” He’d managed to make that sound suggestive, and a shiver ran down her spine.
A throat cleared, and Hope was made aware Coby still stood in front of her. Mortified that she’d forgotten, her face flamed bright red.
“I’d be glad to help if you need extra workers, Hope.” His heart was in his eyes, and she didn’t care to hurt him. However, she had no kind words to let him down. Surely he had to see she was into another?
“You can always ask Val or Rafe where they could best use you, Coby. I’m sure they’d appreciate the assist.” She smiled her thanks.
“About that dinner tonight?” he asked, purposely ignoring Royce’s presence.
Without conscious thought, she dug her nails into the forearm holding her. A twitch of his muscle and a tightening of his fingers relayed to her the discomfort she’d caused.
“I’m sorry, Deputy. She’s already promised to hit up the Sweet and Savory Bistro with me,” Royce said smoothly, jumping in to ease the awkward silence.
Coby gave her a tight smile, still refusing to acknowledge the other man. “Maybe another time.”
She offered up a small, sad smile. With any luck, between now and the time he asked her again, some fortunate woman would scoop him up.
“You looked like you needed saving,” Royce said, after Coby had left.
“I did. Thank you.” She heaved a grateful sigh. “I don’t know how to tell him no. He’s such a nice guy.
“You aren’t doing him any favors by not coming right out and telling him you don’t want a relationship.” His disapproving frown set her teeth on edge. He was right, she knew that, but he didn’t need to come across as preachy.
“I get it, Royce.”
She moved around him and started to gently remove the fruit from the vines.
“I really was planning on stealing you for the evening. Are all hands needed here?” Royce asked, ducking to peer into her face.
Her moody shrug had him asking if she intended to sock him again. The question had the desired effect and her lips twitching.
“Come have dinner with me,” he cajoled.
“You stood me up for lunch. I don’t know if I want to allow you a second chance.” A few more clusters of grapes went into the basket at her feet.
“I was pissed and hurting, Hope. I guess I didn’t want to find myself in another situation where I was being called out or beat up.”
“I need to head back to my place to shower.”
Surprise lit his features. “I thought you lived here on the property.”
“No. I stay here on nights when we have family meals. It’s simpler for a number of reasons.”
“So you have a house or apartment close to town?”
“Yep.”
“You’re going to make me guess, aren’t you?”
She laughed. “If I tell you where, you’ll be showing up on my doorstep in the middle of the night.”
“Not if you just invite me over early on,” he countered with a grin.
“Do you have to try this hard to get in every woman’s pants?”
Tony’s voice had her biting back a startled cry.
If possible, Royce’s grin widened. “Nope. Your sister is especially difficult.”
She hit him lightly in the stomach with the back of her hand. “Not helping your cause any.”
“Val said you were useless today and I should take over. Why don’t you go shower and bum a meal off this one.” He gestured to Royce with his thumb and repositioned her so he could take her place. “Have fun, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“What the hell does that phrase even mean?” she muttered, heading back toward the main house to grab her car keys.
“I think he just gave us permission to make out,” he teased, dogging her steps.
“He did not!” she laughed.
“Yep, I’m pretty sure he did. Should I go back and ask?”
She grabbed a fistful of shirt and dragged him along. “Not on your life.”
***
Over dinner they discussed all the pertinent things about themselves that aren’t normally revealed without asking.
“Killed anyone?” Royce asked, popping a bite of eclair in Hope’s mouth.
She choked.
When she could finally take a breath without coughing, she glared at him. “You might be the first.”
“What? It’s a legit question.” He feigned hurt. He shot a covert glance around the restaurant before leaning in and lowering his voice. “After all, you are Italians.”
She brought the glass of wine to her lips, but he saw her struggle not to smile. She effected a heavy Old World accent. “We don’t let anyone in on our secrets until they’ve married into the Family.”
“Smart. Spouses aren’t required to testify against one another,” he said with a sage nod.
Her laughter came - happy, hearty, and loud. Heads turned, but she didn’t notice. He liked that about her. She was real. He’d missed that over the years. Every business transaction, every model he signed, every date he went on, it seemed as if everyone was playing a part. Pretending to be someone they weren’t. Hope was passionate about life and didn’t care who knew it.
Royce found himself quickly becoming passionate about her - on every level. He found himself concentrating on her lips as she ate. The way she would smile around a bite as if she were enjoying every ounce of flavor to the fullest. The way she would tilt her head slightly down and to the right when she thought he was being particularly flirty and was charmed by it despite not wanting to be. The way she would swipe her long hair to one side and twist it over her shoulder, all the while unconscious of the gesture. The way she would blush when he stared too long.
Christ, he had it bad. He’d known her just over three days and he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Couldn’t get the idea of them making love out of his mind. Her breasts had been a particular fantasy of his since he’d been able to get ahold of them that first night. Oh the things he wanted to do to those glorious globes of hers.
