Wanting a woman this much was dangerous. He had never made that mistake with any other woman but this one. What was it about him that made him want to throw himself against the same wall again and again in the hopes the result would be different this time? A flaw inherited from his waste of space of a father, no doubt.
That thought made Roman shudder. He was nothing like his father. Nothing at all.
And yet here he was, with the same woman who’d ripped his guts out once before, and nothing was going the way he’d imagined it might. He didn’t feel as in control as he’d wanted to feel. He didn’t feel as if he was the victor here at all.
He imagined her married to Jon, imagined Jon doing the things to her that he’d done, and it made his inner beast coil and writhe. He could hardly look at their child without wanting to howl. For some reason, the kid hurt most of all.
And Roman had to get over it, because the boy wasn’t going away.
He sat up, intending to get out of bed and do some work before it was time to get dressed and go back to Sullivan’s. His empire was global, so it was the middle of the workday in some locations. Not that he personally supervised every single company, but he could check in with the managers of those territories and get reports, at least.
And he still needed a plan for the Sullivan Group. He’d bought the loans, and while he intended to honor the terms of their original agreement, he didn’t expect they’d make the payment on time. When he foreclosed, he needed the players in place to do what was necessary to recoup his investment.
“What time is it?” Caroline asked, her voice rough with sleep.
“Nearly six,” he said.
She reached out and put a hand on his naked back. Roman felt as if she’d touched him with a brand. “Do we have to get up just yet?”
He turned back to her. “You can sleep, solnyshko. There’s time yet.”
“I wasn’t thinking of sleep,” she said, and he hardened instantly. It was almost painful how much he wanted this woman.
“What were you thinking?”
Her hand slid over his torso, down his abdomen, and then she hissed when she felt the size of his erection. “That’s pretty much what I was thinking,” she said.
Soon he was lost inside her, his body driving into hers fiercely, her cries in his ear, her fingers digging into the muscles of his back. He didn’t know where she ended, where he began—or how he’d lived the past five years without her.
* * *
Something was different now that they’d had sex. Caroline bit back a yawn as they sat in a meeting with the general manager of the L.A. store and his team. She needed to be paying attention to what the man was saying, but all she could think about was Roman. About the way he’d mastered her body last night, and again this morning, giving her the kind of pleasure she’d begun to believe she would never experience again.
He sat across from her at the table, consulting his computer from time to time, asking pointed questions. She should be angry that they were even here, doing this—but she wasn’t. He’d been right that she needed to get out in the field and see what was going on. This store was doing fabulously. Part of that was the location, and part was the training and retention program for employees. People here were valued team members, and it showed. Happy employees tended to customer needs, and customers bought in response. They could spend their dollars elsewhere, but they chose Sullivan’s based on the level of service they could expect.
Caroline made a note to look into employee practices company-wide. She glanced up again, her gaze sliding over to Roman. He was watching her, his eyes searing into hers, reminding her of all they’d done to each other last night.
All she wanted to do again.
This morning, after he’d taken her to heaven and back at least twice, she’d slipped from his bed and returned to her own room, showering and dressing for the day before Blake and Ryan were up. When she’d joined them for breakfast, Blake seemed none the wiser about her nocturnal activities. Not that she expected he would care, but she still felt a tad awkward about it.
She’d hoped Roman would join them, but he didn’t. Instead, he’d passed through the kitchen, said good morning, grabbed a cup of coffee and went to the study. He didn’t emerge again until it was time to leave. This time, instead of the sports car, they took a limo to the store.
Now, the manager finished his presentation and the room fell silent. Caroline shook herself, realizing it was up to her to speak. “Thank you, Mr. Garcia,” she said. “I appreciate you taking time out for us today. Your store is a model for Sullivan’s, and I’ll be taking some of your ideas back to the board.”
Caroline shook hands with everyone, thanking them for the good job they were doing. And then she and Roman spent a bit more time at the store, touring all the departments before heading back to the bungalow in the limo.
She put her hand over her stomach. It was tight—with worry, with apprehension, with this desperate need she still felt for the man beside her. One night had done nothing to lessen the ache. Not that she’d expected it would, but she certainly hadn’t expected to feel even more jittery than before.
“I think that went well,” she said as the limo moved through traffic. She had to speak, or burst with the emotions churning through her.
Roman turned. He’d been staring out the window, deep in thought, perhaps, but now he was looking at her with those eyes so like his son’s that it made her want to weep. Her heart squeezed tight in her chest. She was going to have to tell him the truth. She knew that now.
Some way, somehow, someday—she had to figure it out. And then she had to be prepared for the fallout. Caroline shuddered deep inside. That was what frightened her most of all.
“It’s one store, Caroline.”
She toyed with the narrow snakeskin belt she’d put on over her tunic dress. “I know that.”
He let out a sigh. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up, angel moy. Sullivan’s is still in trouble.”
Her stomach flipped even as she chided herself for it. One night of sex wasn’t going to make him merciful, now was it? He still owned the loans, and she still needed the money to pay him so he couldn’t foreclose. Besides, she wanted to beat him at his own game, not get special treatment because she’d slept with him.
“I’m aware, Roman. But I’m encouraged.” She let out a forceful breath. “We’ll make that payment. I guarantee it.”
“Let’s not talk about business,” he said, surprising her with the sudden vehemence of the words.
It melted her reserve. She scooted over on the seat until she was beside him, until she could lean against him and put her cheek to his chest. He put his arms around her, his chin resting on her hair. “We’ve spent the entire morning and part of the afternoon talking about business,” he said, as if offering an explanation.
She ran her fingers along the smooth fabric of his custom suit, breathing in his vanilla-and-spice scent. So handsome. So dynamic. And, for now, hers.
“Maybe not the entire morning.”
His laugh was soft. “No, not the entire morning. I exaggerate.”
He tilted her chin up and kissed her. It was a gentle kiss, the kind of kiss between lovers long familiar with each other. And yet there was that tiny tingle of desire coming to life in her core.
He must have felt it, too, because he suddenly ended the kiss. “We have all night together,” he said. “I intend for it to be a long and pleasurable one.”
“I look forward to it,” she sighed.
He pushed her upright so he could see her face. “Do you? Last night, you seemed uncertain about the prospect of continuing.”
Caroline shrugged self-consciously. “I can’t say this doesn’t confuse me, Roman. But it’s time I got on with my life, as you said.”
His blue eyes seemed troubled for a moment. “I’m sorry you lost your husband. It cannot have been easy for you.”
She lowered her lashes to hide the confusion and guilt he would surel
y see if she kept looking at him. “It wasn’t. Jon was a good man. A good friend.”
“I remember him,” Roman said, and she looked up again, searching his gaze. “I hardly knew him, but I liked him well enough the few times we met.”
“We weren’t right for each other,” she said, surprising herself that she’d admitted that much. “But we tried.”
“For the sake of your child.”
She dropped her gaze, nodding. Guilt was a living thing inside her, twisting and churning, making her feel sick to her stomach.
“My parents tried, too. It was a disaster.”
She reached for his hand, squeezed it. “I’m sorry.”
It was his turn to shrug. “My father was an alcoholic. I doubt that either you or Jon Wells had this problem.”
“No.” Once more, her heart ached for the little boy Roman had been. He had never shared anything about his childhood when they were together before. She didn’t know why he did so now, but she was glad that he did.
He turned his head to look out the window at the traffic. “For him, children were a burden. And a tool to use against my mother. We would have all been better off if she’d just left him. But she didn’t.”
“Are they still together?”
“In a manner of speaking,” he said. And then he turned back to her. “They are both dead.”
“Oh, Roman, I’m so sorry.”
“This is life. There is nothing to be done about it.”
She thought of her parents in their big house in Southampton, of her father slowly forgetting everything and everyone he’d ever known, and wanted to weep. Her mother was handling it bravely, stoically, but it took a toll on her. Her smile, once so genuine and instant, was pasted on now, brittle. As if she needed to cry but couldn’t. As if she had to turn a happy face to the world no matter what.
“I’ve found that life can be very cruel sometimes,” Caroline said. “Even when you think you have everything, it finds a way to flatten you.”
“Da,” he replied. “This is unfortunately true.”
He turned his gaze back to the window and they finished the ride in silence. The driver took them through a private entrance so they could avoid the throng of paparazzi that lurked nearby, and for that she was grateful. She didn’t think she could take them on, with her heart churning and everything she felt written on her face.
What would they see if they looked at her? A confused woman? A woman who’d never really gotten over the first man she’d ever loved? A guilty woman with a secret she needed to share but hadn’t yet figured out how to?
When she and Roman stepped inside the bungalow, she could hear the splash of water, and Ryan’s giggles and shouts as he played. Roman stopped in the middle of the great room, hands shoved in his pockets—and her heart pinched tight.
Outside, Ryan was climbing from the pool and Blake was sitting on the edge, watching him. “Want to come outside with me and see what they’ve been up to?” she asked.
Roman’s gaze slid past her. He was frowning. “No. You go ahead. I have work to do.”
Caroline sighed. Eventually, she would need to deal with Roman’s reluctance to get near Ryan. He wasn’t comfortable around kids, but she wanted him to be comfortable with Ryan before she told him the truth.
She went over and slid the door open, and Ryan looked up from where he stood on the pool deck.
“Mommy! Watch what I can do!”
“No running,” Blake commanded, as Ryan started for the end of the pool. He stopped running, but his little legs moved fast as he headed to where he wanted to be.
“Watch, Mommy!”
Caroline’s heart filled with love as her son screwed up his little face and then jumped into the water with as much concentration as if he’d been performing an Olympic dive. He was wearing arm floaties, so she wasn’t especially worried about him trying to swim across the pool. Nevertheless, Blake sat on the edge, ready to spring into motion should Ryan need help.
“Perfect!” Caroline cried as he paddled his way over to where she stood next to Blake. “What a big boy you’re turning into. I’m so proud of you!”
Ryan’s little face lit up. “I can do it backward, too!” he said. “Uncle Blake taught me.”
Blake shrugged when she looked at him. “He did it himself,” he told her, sotto voce. “I had nothing to do with it.” Then he turned back to Ryan. “Why don’t you get out of the pool now, sweetie? Mommy’s home and it’ll soon be time to eat.”
Caroline expected an argument, since Ryan hated to be stopped when he was enjoying something. But he paddled to the edge even faster. “Can we have pizza? Please?”
“I think we can manage that,” Caroline said.
Blake lifted him out of the pool and grabbed a towel. “I’ll do it,” Caroline told him, taking the towel and wrapping her baby up.
Ryan chattered endlessly while she dried him off. But then he stopped talking abruptly and she realized that Roman had come outside. For a moment, she was heartened by the effort. But then she realized he was standing there with his brows drawn down, staring at them.
Staring at Ryan. Caroline’s heart skipped several beats. “What were you saying, sweetheart?” she asked Ryan.
He began to talk again, quietly, his gaze darting to Roman more than once. And Roman had still not moved.
“There, I think that’s finished,” she said, wrapping Ryan in the towel again and standing. “Why don’t you go and get dressed so we can have that pizza?”
“Okay!” He took off running, skidding to a halt when Blake yelled at him to walk. Blake trailed after him and they went inside together.
Roman was still standing there. Still staring at her. A premonition of fear slid down her spine as she met his gaze. His hot, hard gaze that was filled with something far different than the lust she’d seen there earlier. His face was a thundercloud.
The gathering storm was about to break, and nothing would be the same when it did.
Roman turned and slid the door closed—very slowly, very deliberately—and cut off her only escape. Then they faced each other across the length of the patio. Caroline’s pulse thrummed hard. The plants behind Roman began to shimmer. She forced herself to focus on him, forced the blood to keep pumping into her heart, her brain. She would not pass out. She refused to pass out.
“Tell me,” Roman said very precisely, “that what I’m thinking cannot be correct.”
She tried for cool. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, Roman.”
His eyes blazed as he took a step toward her, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. She sensed that he was on the edge of his control. It was such a far cry from the man he’d been only moments ago in the limousine. She wanted to weep and yell and throw things.
“I have two brothers,” he said, his voice diamond hard. “Dmitry and Nikolai. We used to go swimming together when we were children, in the water park in Moscow. It was our summer ritual, our escape.” He shook himself, as if he were going deeper into the memory than he intended. “Just now, I would have sworn I was watching one of my brothers. There is something in that child’s way of moving, in his expression—”
“He is not that child, Roman,” she snapped, fury blazing. “His name is Ryan.”
“He is your son with Jon Wells.” Roman said it as if he expected her to agree, to tell him that the evidence of his eyes was flawed.
The lump in her throat was huge, choking her. There was no way out. No way she could deny the truth now. It wasn’t how she’d wanted to do this. Hell, until just recently she hadn’t envisioned telling him at all. There were repercussions to telling him, repercussions for more than just the two of them.
“Jon was gay,” she said softly, her throat hurting.
Roman looked as if she’d hit him. His face drained of color, except for two red spots over his cheeks. It took him a long minute to speak. And when he did, his voice was harder and colder than she’d ever heard it. Lethal.
“What, precise
ly, are you telling me, Caroline? Say it clearly so there can be no misunderstanding.”
She sucked in a shaky breath. But she stood her ground, even though what she most wanted was to sink to the pool deck and sob. “You already know.”
“Yet I want you to say it.” His jaw was hard as he worked to contain the strong emotions gripping him. “Tell me,” he ordered, his voice razor-edged.
Caroline flinched. But she didn’t shrink from the task. That wasn’t her style. No, she delivered the words, knowing she was ripping his carefully ordered world in two as she did so. Knowing this time the rift between them would never be healed.
“I’m saying that I was already pregnant when Jon and I married. Ryan is your son, not Jon’s.”
CHAPTER TEN
The Thrill Is Gone? Caro and Kazarov Not Speaking—Photos from LAX
ROMAN COULDN’T BREATHE. It took every effort of will he possessed to make the air move in and out of his lungs the way it was supposed to do. Every effort of will not to walk over to the woman who’d lied to him all these years, and shake her.
Violence rose in waves inside him. Sick, choking, overwhelming urges to wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze. He shook his head and stood stiffly, staring at her wide hazel eyes brimming with tears.
“I didn’t know until after you were gone,” she said, as a tear spilled free, sliding down her pale cheek. “You returned to Russia without leaving me any way to contact you.”
Rage was a living thing inside him. He’d spent years conquering that rage, years learning not to be the man his father had been—but right now, he was on the edge of feelings he’d never before felt. He would conquer them, however, because he was the better man.
“As if you would have tried,” he said sharply. “Do you expect me to believe that?”
She shook her head, and another tear spilled down her cheek. He hardened his heart against the pinprick of agony that caused.
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