Under Contract

by Jeffe Kennedy

  “Because of last night? I screw up one fool time and you’re ready to cut me loose?”

  “No!” She actually stomped her bare foot and put her fists on her hips. “That was not nearly as big a deal as you’re making it. It made me stop and think, like I should have been all along. I had a loveless relationship and I won’t do it again. With Ara’s death and everything that happened, I’d forgotten those years with Noah. But it’s coming back now—maybe I have you to thank for waking me up again—and I can’t be in that kind of situation again. It nearly broke me before and I’m more fragile now.”

  He nearly laughed at the thought of her as fragile, particularly at this moment, looking like an enraged Mediterranean sorceress, with the ocean breeze whipping her skirts around her, strands of glossy black hair sticking to her crimson lips.

  Show her the lurv.

  “Celestina,” he sighed her name, searching for the words to convince her. “I know you don’t love me. Maybe you never will. I don’t delude myself about that. Still, I think I could make you happy. I don’t know how to be in a relationship, but I’m willing to learn. Teach me what I need to do so that you feel cared for the way you need to. You know I’m good with long-term projects and I’m a quick study. We haven’t known each other that long, but we can’t change that if you leave. Please stay. If you can show me how to love you the right way, maybe one day you’ll feel about me like I do about you.”

  She gazed at him, lips parted. Shocked and disbelieving.

  “It’s not that farfetched,” he insisted. “We’re good together and not just with the sex—with everything. Love can grow from that.”

  Holding up a hand, she stopped him. “Are you telling me that you love me?”

  “Of course,” he said with impatience. “You knew that.”

  “No.” She shook her head slowly. “You never once saw fit to mention that.”

  “Why the hell would I ask you to move in with me? Why would I share my life, my fortune with you, offer to make your nieces my family, too, if I wasn’t wildly in love with you?” He wanted to take her by the shoulders, to force the understanding into her stubborn brain, but he restrained himself. “I’m offering to spend the rest of my life with you, and you think I don’t love you?”

  “You did not offer the rest of your life.”

  “Of course I did!”

  “No, Ryan. To me the rest of my life means marriage and you never said word one about that.”

  “I couldn’t ask you to marry me—we’ve only been seeing each other a couple of weeks. Even I know you can’t propose to a woman that quickly.”

  “But you can ask her to move in with you.”

  “I may have moved up that phase.”

  She threw her hands up in the air. “I suppose you had all this as milestones in one of your long-term plans. You have a date predicted for the optimal time to propose to me.”

  That did make him laugh, an odd feeling through the angry tightness of his chest. She at least knew him well. “I thought a year from the day we met by the bear sculpture would be nice. Maybe even in that same spot.”

  “You are unreal,” she breathed. Softly enough that it seemed safe to try to touch her. He moved close enough and she didn’t flinch away from him, so he ran his hands down her arms, the gooseflesh bumpy under his caress. Pulling off his dinner jacket, he draped it over her shoulders and held it there.

  “I know I’m not good at this, Celestina. But I think I could be. I’ll marry you tonight if you want that. Or I can wait. That’s why I thought we’d start with you moving in, that maybe you’d get used to me, to being with me, and you might begin to at least care for me. If you never find it in your heart to love me, I’ll let you go. I promise. Just give me some time to try.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Tina’s thoughts whirled and reassembled. Like the spray of a fountain jetting up and falling back into a still pool. All water, just scattered and recombined.

  She hadn’t seen this. Not at all. And now it seemed so obvious. Ryan wasn’t like other men in any other way, so why would he be in this? Him with his fast and decisive plans. His strange past. Maybe he simply didn’t know you had to tell people you loved them. Had anyone ever loved him, for him to be so certain she didn’t care about him?

  “Celestina.” He groaned her name, his hands flexing on her shoulders with all that carefully controlled strength and viciously restrained temper. “Throw me a bone here. We don’t have to decide anything tonight. Just tell me we’re not over. Tell me you won’t take that job just yet. If they want you badly enough, they’ll wait.”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Anything.”

  “How did your mother die?”

  Old grief creased his brow and he sighed, bending his head to touch his forehead to hers. “Do you have to know?”

  “I think so.”

  He let her go and stepped away, shoving his hands in his pockets. “My dad killed her.”

  He pronounced it like “kilt,” a hint of that mountain boy he’d been leaking into his speech. She waited for him to go on, but he just stared at her, as if expecting something. So she nodded. “I figured that much. But how did it happen?”

  Confusion coursed through his face. “You guessed that?”

  “Well, the clues were all there.”

  “Why didn’t you leave when you realized then?”

  Her turn to be confused. He was right about one thing—they really sucked at communicating with each other. “Why would I have?”

  He bounced on his toes impatiently. “Celestina. My father beat my mother to death. Over long, slow years he wore away at her until she was like a ghost, haunting that hellhole of our house. One day he broke her completely and she died.” His voice broke, too, and he pinched at his eyes with one hand, forcing away the tears.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, uncertain if she should comfort him, brittle as he looked. “Were you there?”

  He barked out a bitter laugh. “No. I was at the library. When I got home—late, because I stayed away as long as I could in those days—she was dead. Lying in a pool of blood in the kitchen. The medical examiner from the city testified that she’d been dead for eight or nine hours.”

  Testified. “They prosecuted him?”

  “Oh yeah. I was their key witness. He got life in prison.”

  “How old were you?”

  He lifted his shoulders. “Thirteen. Did the foster home thing until the trial finished, then got in trouble. Fights. You know the rest.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “I didn’t want to scare you off. I thought that, maybe one day, if you came to care for me, I could tell you and you wouldn’t judge me or leave me because of it.”

  That was enough. She went to him and put her arms around his waist. He stayed rigid, hands in pockets, watching her with what could only be suspicion. “Ryan. I would not leave you because your father was a monster.”

  “He’s in me.”

  “No. You are in you. You’re a self-made man, remember? Ryan Black.”

  He smiled, barely, a wry twist to it. “Didn’t have much choice there. After Mama died, there was nothing left of me.”

  “She’d be so proud of you now.” Tears pricked her own eyes.

  He moved then, framing her face with his big hands. “Do you think so?” He sounded heartbreakingly hopeful, like the boy he’d been.

  “I’m sure of it.”

  His expression crumpled and a tear leaked from one eye that he didn’t seem to notice. “I wasn’t there,” he said hoarsely, so that she barely heard him over the surf and only because their faces were so close. “I could have been. It was a Saturday, but I stayed at the library all day. I let her down.”

  “Oh no.”
The last pieces of her heart shredded. Her same guilt, that she somehow could have saved Ara, if they’d only been together. “No—he might have killed you, too.”

  “I wasn’t big then, but I would have tried. I wanted to kill him. Part of why I got into all those street fights. I figured I’d better learn how, in case he came after me, too.”

  “Oh, Ryan.” She stood up on tiptoe, sliding her hands to the short, prickly hairs on the back of his neck, and reached up to kiss him. “I think she was glad you weren’t there. She would have been happy to know that you escaped and were safe.”

  He stroked her cheek. “Just as Arabella would have wanted you happy. To live the life she didn’t get to.”

  “Maybe so.” She tasted salt on her lips, unsure if they were her tears, his, or spray from the ocean. “It’s important to me, to do right by her memory.”

  “I know. Carlotta and Josefina—they remind me of being that age. I mean it when I say I’d like them to have what I didn’t. A happy home. Plenty of money.”

  “Money isn’t everything, Ryan.”

  “No, but it makes things a hell of a lot easier and more fun.” He smiled, a hint of his wicked grin. “It let a coal-mine rat like me bag time with the most amazing woman I’ve ever known.” He sobered. “If you say you won’t leave me because of that, will you at least give us some time? We can forgo the kinky sex. Or sex at all, if you want. You don’t have to move in, but I really want you to. You can teach me what a man is supposed to be like, to have a woman love him.”

  Apparently her heart hadn’t shredded, because it clutched with aching for him. How badly she’d behaved, so wrapped up in her own issues, not realizing how much she’d shut him out, depriving him of the care and understanding he needed. “And you call me foolish,” she said, kissing him again.

  “I never said I wasn’t a fool, but I am an optimist. I have great hope that you could love me someday.”

  She bit his lower lip, just hard enough to punish him for his blindness. “You’re a fool because you haven’t seen I already love you.”

  His hands stilled on her and he cocked his head, studying her face. “No, you don’t.”

  She burst out laughing. “Wrong response!”

  He smiled uncertainly. “I told you I need to be taught.”

  “True. Let’s try this again, with that open and honest communication you dragged us out here to have. Ryan, I love you.”

  “You don’t have to say it now, just because you think I need to hear it.”

  She heaved out a sigh. “One more time. Ryan, I love you.”

  This time he caught on, a quirk on his lips. “I love you, Celestina.”

  “And now you kiss me.”

  “That I know how to do.” He kissed her gently, a brush of lips that quickly heated into his trademark devastating technique. She gave herself over to it, head over heels into his erotic spell, letting it go all through her. So much to feel. Maybe her heart wasn’t so fragile, because it seemed to be operating just fine—beating strong, hard, full of life.

  Not broken at all.

  They parted and Ryan brushed her hair back from her face. “Now what? I can call my jeweler and you can choose a ring. Is that what you want?”

  “Not yet. We have all the time in the world for that. I’d like to do something else.”

  “Anything.”

  “I seem to recall you promising to dance with me.”

  He grinned. “My pleasure.”

  They walked back up to the boardwalk, pausing for her to brush the sand off her feet and put the strappy high heels on again. Ryan fingered something in his pocket, eyeing her.

  “What?” she asked. “Remember we’re both going to be better about saying what we’re thinking.”

  “Okay then. I’d like to give you something. I wasn’t sure if I should. I want to, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to take it. Or wear it.”

  “Are you telling me you did not make this decision ahead of time?”

  His mouth twisted in rueful humor at her teasing. “I didn’t. And it’s even nighttime. Two broken rules. See what you’ve done to me?”

  “All right. Show me.”

  He drew the slim jewelry box out of his pocket. Opened it to the fiery stream of diamonds. The choker he’d mentioned. She brushed them with her finger.

  “It locks on?”

  “Yes.”

  She studied his face, the wistful yearning in it. “If I wear it, does it make you feel like I’m more fully yours?”

  “It would.” His voice had gone hoarse again. “But I don’t have to have it. Not now, not ever, if you don’t want to.”

  She probably shouldn’t be making this decision in the heat of the moment, but she wanted to. Maybe they didn’t have all the time in the world. So many people didn’t. Ryan’s mother. Her parents. Ara.

  And maybe she hadn’t been doing all that badly, following the steps that brought her here. Most of all—she really, really didn’t want to leave him. Impulsively, she turned, bowing her head and clasping her hands. “Yes, Master,” she whispered.

  He let out a breath—of tension or relief—and his hands shook slightly as he slid the cool jewels around her throat, snapping the lock into place and kissing the nape of her neck so she shivered. “Mine.”

  She turned in his arms and pressed her breasts into him, enjoying the slow ache, the burn of lust for him. It meant something to her, too, to feel possessed by him. Maybe even to let him handle some things for her. She’d been without someone to lean on for so long, that she’d convinced herself that was a weakness. But in this moment she felt stronger than ever.

  “Ready for dancing?” he asked.

  “Yes, I am.” They started back to the Villa, glowing with lights. Beautiful even if the fountains were dry. “I’m sorry I was rude to Sarah.”

  He squeezed her waist. “It makes me feel better, not to be the only one whose temper gets away.”

  “Far from it.”

  It made her feel better, too, to be understood.

  * * *

  When they got home, the girls were wide awake, ensconced in the home theater, on the third movie of a Johnny Depp binge. Naturally, they were also on their phones, texting with their friends. Carly turned around, kneeling up in the cushy seat, and folded her arms across the back. “Can we spend the night? We picked out bedrooms, but we thought we should try them out. Maybe test out a few to figure out which is our favorite.”

  “Carls!” Josie sent Tina an apologetic smile. “Give Antina a break—she said she hasn’t decided.”

  “But they look all happy again! You said you thought it was a good idea.”

  Tina glanced up at Ryan, who wore the same hopeful expression as her nieces. “Yes, we can stay the night. And I did decide—we can start the process of moving in. But—” She had to raise her voice over the girls’ cheers. “There will be new rules and Ryan gets final word on everything, understand?”

  “No,” Ryan corrected, caressing the small of her back. “We are the final word. We’re doing this together.”

  “Okay.” She smiled at him. Josie and Carly exchanged eyerolls and touched their fingers together, giggling as they fluttered them apart.

  “Oh!” Carly jumped up, bringing her phone. “I almost forgot to show you this cool thing, Antina.” She clicked something and handed it to her aunt.

  An article from the LA Times. “California drought could end with storms known as atmospheric rivers.” Tina squinted at it. “Atmospheric rivers?”

  “What are those?” Ryan asked.

  “I’ll have to read more, but the gist is that they think conditions are right for the winter to bring huge rains. Enough to end the drought.”

  “Serendipity smiles,” he said.

  “Pretty cool,
huh?” Carly took her phone back. “Then you can design fountains again. That made you happy.”

  She stroked Carly’s shining hair, surprised at her unusual sensitivity. She was growing up. “That did make me happy. But so do you guys.” She leaned into Ryan, enjoying his strength and heat. She looked up at him. “All of you do. I think this is going to be good.”

  Leaving the girls to their movies, she let Ryan take her to bed.

  Epilogue

  The following January

  The rain battered hard on the windshield. Once they got out of the car, they’d be drenched. But they’d already lingered at the cathedral, lighting their candles, and now Ryan had driven them out to the beach.

  He touched her hand. “Should I come with you or wait here?”

  “If we’re getting cold and wet, Uncle Ry, you have to also,” Carly said.

  “That’s what family does,” Josie agreed.

  “You don’t have to—” Tina started, but he squeezed her hand.

  “I have a letter for Arabella, too,” he surprised her by saying.

  They all piled out and hurried to the water. Josie and Carly held hands and closed their eyes, then tossed their balled-up letters to their mother in their hands. Tina took a moment longer, thinking of her twin, forever frozen in time. Love you, Ara.

  Ryan waited for her, while the twins jumped up and down, making shivering noises, then threw in his own letter. As soon as he did, the girls were off, racing each other back to the car. Seizing the moment, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged, reveling in the feel of his strong body.

  “I’m glad you didn’t mind us doing this, especially in this downpour.”

  “It’s a good ritual. An important one. And I’ll never complain about rain again. Did you see the city is lifting restrictions on fountains? It’s official.”

  Giddiness bloomed in her heart despite the cold rain. Or because of it. “Linda called me today with the news. They’ve already had inquiries. Clients wanting to jump on projects while they can.”

  “Are you going to work for her again?”