Sapphire Ice: Book 1 in the Jewel Series

by Hallee Bridgeman

  She started to fight, but her legs and arms were pinned by his huge body.

  “You can’t get away this time, little girl,” he grunted in her ear.

  She screamed, but the sound was muffled by his hand.

  “Not a little girl, though, are ya? No, you’re a woman. Or you will be, soon as I’m done with you.” A hand gripped her breast, squeezed and twisted it until the pain made her vision gray. She realized that her nightgown was gone.

  Vomit clawed at her throat. No matter how she resisted, she wasn’t strong enough. A single tear rolled out of the corner of her eye while his laughter echoed in her head.

  With a strangled cry, Robin clawed her way out of the dream, bolting into a sitting position on the bed. Her whole body quaked in the aftermath. Her hands trembled and her breath came in quick shaky gasps. Sweat poured over her body, and she lifted the damp tendrils of her bangs to wipe her forehead.

  Years had gone by since she’d last had the dream. Sometimes, she dreamt through to the bitter end, sometimes she could pull herself out of it in time. It was so much worse if she didn’t get out of it in time.

  She was about to get out of the bed when she heard a noise in the other room. One or both of her sisters were home, so she stayed where she was, waiting for the effects of the dream to go away. She didn’t want to carry the cobwebs of the nightmare out of the room with her.

  She drew her legs up and rested her forehead against her knees. Her breathing slowly returned to normal. Her hands slowly stopped shaking, and the sweat cooled on her body.

  Finally feeling normal again, she got out of bed, changed back into jeans and a loose top, and felt that she could face her sisters.

  Wonderful smells assailed her nose when she opened her bedroom door. Something spicy and tangy was cooking, and her stomach rumbled in response. Every step toward the living room seemed lighter, and she almost had a smile on her face as she walked the last few steps.

  She smelled it first; the underlying smell of expensive cologne. Then she heard him; that deep chuckle that sent a shiver over her spine. Maxine had better have a new boyfriend who wore costly aftershave and was annoyingly happy all the time. Then she saw him, sitting forward on the couch, a glass of water in his hand. His attention was on Maxine, and he had that irritatingly irresistible grin on his face again.

  “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she said.

  CHAPTER 6

  ONY slowly set his glass down while he mentally prepared himself for the attack. He let his eyes casually take Robin in, noting her hands clenched into fists as they rested on her hips, recognizing the flush of anger as it moved up her neck to her face.

  God, he prayed silently, in his mind, give me wisdom and patience. I feel like You brought her into my life for a purpose. Keep me from reacting or acting in the wrong way. Keep me strong and keep me pure and tell me what I’m supposed to do here. Amen.

  She was magnificent. He wanted nothing more than to see her smile. He wanted to rub the tension away from her face, to hug her in his arms.

  He smoothly rose to his feet and walked toward her. Her sisters left his mind. Nothing around him existed except her. He never even paused his advance, his whole focus on her face. Something was there in her eyes. Dark shadows that leapt at the edges, interfering with the angry sparks that were for him alone. He wanted to make the shadows disappear. He wanted to have the right to ask her about them. But it wasn’t his right. Not yet.

  “This is my house,” she spat at him, “and I don’t want you here.”

  He grinned. His bold approach worked. Shadows started moving out of her eyes as irritation replaced them. “You aren’t the one who invited me.” He’d finally reached her and stood inches away. “What is the matter?” he asked her quietly.

  Her eyes widened before they narrowed. “You.”

  He shook his head. “No. Something else.” He reached out and put a hand on each shoulder, squeezing gently. She was too thin. She needed to gain some weight. He felt an overwhelming urge to pull her to him, to shield her from the world, to give her everything his considerable empire could offer. Only, he knew the last place she wanted to be was in his arms, so he squeezed her shoulders one more time and stepped back. “Your sister has invited me to dinner.”

  As he spoke, the timer went off with a loud, “Ding!” in the kitchen.

  Robin looked past Tony to Maxine. “My sister?”

  “Looks like dinner’s ready,” Maxine said, hopping up from the couch. “I’ll just set it out and we can eat.”

  “Why did my sister invite you to dinner?”

  Maxine was in the kitchen opening the oven door before she spoke. “We’re celebrating his birthday.”

  Robin felt her jaw drop. “We?” she asked. She moved to the entrance of the kitchen.

  Maxine winked. “I am.” She pulled a pan out of the oven and set it on the small stove. As she took the oven mitts off her hands, she turned and faced Robin. “Oh, by the way, Tony’s my guest. You want to eat what I cooked, you’ll have to eat with him. You don’t like it, leave.”

  Robin rounded on Sarah. “And how much of this was your idea?”

  “I had nothing to do with it.” Sarah sank into cushions of the couch. “I accept absolutely no responsibility for this.”

  Maxine leaned over the bar. “Dinner’s ready.”

  Robin jumped as Tony’s hand came up and squeezed the back of her neck. “Smells great,” he said, giving her neck a reassuring squeeze before inching past her in the doorway. It bothered her that his touch actually reassured her. She should feel annoyed that he felt like he could touch her at all.

  She entered the room and pulled her chair out. Maxine had pulled the spare chair out of her bedroom and shifted the table away from the wall so that four chairs would fit around it. Sarah squeezed past them and claimed the spot in the corner against the wall and Maxine sat next to her, closest to the stove. That forced Robin next to Tony, who sat between Maxine and Robin.

  As he sat, he held his hands out, palms up. “Do you mind if I bless the meal?”

  Sarah, whose parents did things like pray before meals, was the one who answered. “Of course. Thank you.”

  Tony looked at Robin until she, reluctantly, followed Sarah’s lead and placed her hand in his. She felt Maxine take her other hand, but could only concentrate on the feel of Tony’s palm against her own. She bowed her head and closed her eyes. Soon, the rich tones of his voice flowed over her, and for the first time since her dream, she felt herself relaxing, felt peace edge its way into the corners of her mind.

  “Father God, we thank You for this time of new friendship and fellowship. Thank You for Maxine’s generous heart that is keeping me from spending this anniversary of my birth alone. Thank You for bringing this family of sisters into my life. Pour out Your blessings into their lives and enrich them, Father. Thank You for my life. Thank You for all of the ways You have brought such joy to my life, including this wonderful meal. Please bless it and bless the hands that made it. In Your precious holy Son’s name, Amen.”

  He let go of Robin’s hand after giving it a squeeze. She raised her head and put her hand into her lap, gripping it with the other. What just happened?

  Sarah took the lead and picked up the spoon in the dish of potatoes in front of her. “This smells wonderful, Maxi.”

  Robin had never seen Maxine off balance before and was intrigued by the way she just blinked before shaking her head and coming out of it. She smiled broadly. “Thank you.” She picked up a platter of chicken and handed it over to Tony. “Please eat as much as you want. There is more than plenty.”

  Robin recovered from the prayer and glared at Tony while he loaded his plate and picked up his fork and dug in. Robin had no appetite, but she put some sparse servings on her plate and pushed food around while she listened, refusing to interact. Instead, she forced the anger toward him back, intentionally remembering the insult so that she didn’t fall under the spell that he apparently wove
around her sisters’ better judgement.

  They laughed at every inane thing he said and blushed like students at a junior high dance when he looked at them. Robin remained unaffected, though. She knew his game and could see right through it. She might have been a lowly servant to him, but she’d been dealing with the public for years and knew how to read into unspoken words and body language.

  He was trying to charm her by charming her sisters. What if she occasionally let her guard down and he did just that? Then she’d remember, and slam the walls right back up.

  The comfort in his touch softened her. It unnerved her. She’d admit it to herself, if to no one else.

  She’d spent the first half of her life avoiding men. The types of the male species that her mother brought home were always far from respectable, and most had lived their lives in a glorification of evil. Then there were the foster fathers. Two of them had tried the same things that her mother’s boyfriends always had. One managed to get to Maxine before Robin could get to him, and she was lucky the foster mother had been disgusted and sickened with her husband, or Robin could have easily been faced with criminal charges after stabbing him in the shoulder with his own hunting knife.

  Boys in high school had paid very little attention to her. She guessed, looking back now with an adult’s eyes, that she had intimidated them. When she’d finally been settled into a relatively good home for girls – and while she made excellent grades and learned quickly – she was so far behind in school that she went to an alternative all-girls’ school until she finally dropped out.

  Her defenses were sharpened even further working so young as a bartender. The advances from the patrons would just get worse and worse as the nights wore on and they continued to drink. By the time she’d started working at Benedict’s, her defense was a perfect air of disinterest, leaving the customers who might otherwise have been interested with the first impression not even to make the attempt.

  So, she was twenty-eight years old and had absolutely no experience in dealing with men, unless it was to serve them lunch or a drink. She didn’t know how to interact with a man – especially a man like Tony – on any level. Then he had to go and comfort her as if wanting nothing in return, right at one of those moments when everything was bared naked from her dream. Right when all she wanted was someone else’s back to be stronger than hers. There he was. He made her want something she never wanted before.

  She hated him and wished she had the energy to tell him. Instead, she just sat at her little table that now seemed too small because he occupied a chair, eating food that she was certain would taste good if it didn’t all seem to turn to sawdust in her mouth, and watching him charm the socks right off of her own flesh and blood.

  When Maxine jumped up and whipped a cake out of the refrigerator, she was sure she was going to throw up. Not able to take any more, she pushed away from the table. “You’ll have to excuse me,” she said as sickly sweet as possible, “but I have some things to do.”

  She refused to meet his eyes, gave Maxine a look that left no doubt about how she felt about the entire night, and went to her room. Not knowing what else to do that would get her out of there at eight o’clock on a Sunday night, she grabbed her bag of laundry and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door as hard as she could on her way out.

  The fact that the laundry room was empty helped. She was in no mood to be pleasant or even cordial. It afforded her the privacy and the opportunity to slam things around, to kick a couple of machines and listen to the satisfying clang of the metal. Only when her laundry was sorted, loaded into the machines, and starting the wash cycle did she feel like she had calmed down somewhat.

  The room would have looked small even without the four washing machines and dryers, so the only thing to sit on was a lone table that had been shoved into a corner. Most of the time, she risked the possible theft of her clothes to wait for the wash upstairs in her own apartment, but she had no desire to go back up there. Instead, she tested the strength of the table, decided it would probably hold her weight, and scooted on top of it.

  There was a day old newspaper on the table, and for lack of anything better to do, she decided to read it. She skimmed headlines and glanced at pictures without actually retaining anything she saw. Instead, of its own volition, her mind drifted back to dinner.

  She tried to get a grip back on the anger, but it had faded away. All she could think about was the way his hand felt as it held hers during his prayer. It was almost as if she could still feel him, the heat of his hand, the strength. Closing her eyes, she thought back and almost completely recaptured the moment.

  Was it actually possible to be so comfortable around a man that she could enjoy feeling her hand in his? Had she truly been missing something? Maxine had told her several times she was missing out on the best things in life by pushing men away from her. Maybe Maxine was right. Robin tried but was unable to come up with anything that had ever felt so comforting in such a simple manner.

  She knew that not all men were like the ones her mother brought home. It wasn’t that. She just simply refused to need a man, and since so many women she worked with and knew fell prey time and time again, allowed themselves to be chewed up and spit out, she really didn’t see what she’d been missing.

  Except now all she could think about was Tony. If the feelings inside of her were normal, she could almost understand the waitresses she worked with continually falling victim to the men in their lives. Maybe it was time to learn. Maybe Maxine had a point.

  She certainly had a willing partner. He was only looking for sex, after all. Perhaps she should just go for it. What could it hurt? Unlike some of the desperate waitresses at Benedicts hoping to score a rich man, she’d be going into it with open eyes, expecting nothing else out of it. She had a feeling that Mr. Antonio Viscolli preferred it that way. He could teach her the ropes, so to speak, and they could go their separate ways soon after. She guessed he’d be around Hank’s for another week at the most, then he’d hand the reins over to a manager and that little corner of Boston would no longer hold his attention. Having a physical relationship might even make his constant presence during the transition at least endurable.

  A week would be enough time. At least it should. Since she didn’t really know what she was talking about, she was going into it rather blindly.

  How to approach him, though? She thought about it while she transferred clothes from the washers to the dryers. A direct approach would be best. He wasn’t the type to play games, obviously. It had to be soon, too. She had his attention now. Who knew what tomorrow would bring.

  Tonight. She should catch him before he left. Leaving everything where it was, she burst out of the laundry room and took the first flight of stairs two at a time. She hit the first landing and rounded the corner, only to slam right into the chest of the man she was in such a hurry to see.

  “Whoa, slow down,” he said, gripping her arms to keep her from falling backward down the stairs, “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” She pulled away out of habit and cringed inwardly at the brief flash of resignation in his eyes. “You’re leaving?”

  The corner of his mouth tilted up in a mocking smile. “Yes. Please, though. There’s no need to beg me to stay. I can’t be swayed.”

  Oh, no. The sarcasm was so obvious. Maybe it was too late. “Um, listen, could I talk to you for a minute?”

  Tony’s eyebrow rose a fraction of an inch. “Of course.” He turned his body slightly, as if to go back up the stairs, but stopped when she put a hesitant hand on his arm.

  “No, not up there. I kind of wanted to discuss something, uh, private.” She turned started walking down. “We can just talk in the laundry room, if you don’t mind. My clothes are almost dry, and if I leave them in there, I risk someone throwing them on the floor.”

  Tony couldn’t help but feel intrigued. Without a second thought he followed her until they reached a little room on the first floor crammed with machines that
had to be as old as he was. Something on the chipped tile floor stuck to the bottom of his shoes, but it was so dingy gray that he could not identify the source. Two of the three fluorescent lights were burnt out, and a bulletin board was covered with layers of advertisements.

  Robin turned to face him as soon as they entered the room and stood there with her hands shoved into the pockets of her jeans while she rocked back and forth on the soles of her feet. “I guess I didn’t really plan how I wanted to say this,” she said. He thought that maybe her face reddened, but with the low light, it was hard to tell.

  “Saying something outright usually works,” he said. She’d been civil to him for about fifty-seven seconds. He wondered if he should begin to worry.

  She huffed out a breath and looked over his shoulder. “I want to sleep with you.”

  He wasn’t quite sure how long it took for the words to sink in. He knew he stared at her, speechless, for several seconds, and managed to remember to close his mouth before he looked like an idiot. After it all clicked in and made sense, once he found his tongue again, he was able to speak. “Excuse me?”

  She met his eyes this time. Nothing was reflected out of the blue depths that would make him think this was one big joke. “I said, I want to sleep with you.”

  “Okay. That’s what I thought you said.” Did he pinch himself now in order to wake up from this odd daydream, or wait for this to play itself out? “May I ask why?”

  Her shutters came back into place. He was almost certain that he could hear them slamming shut. “Look, never mind. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”

  She would have brushed by him if he hadn’t grabbed her arm. “Nope. You started this. See it through. You couldn’t stand me an hour ago. Why the sudden change of heart?”

  Not knowing what to say to that, she once again decided the most direct route would be the best. “I’ve never dated anyone before.”

  She said nothing else. He waited a beat, then two, before prompting her. “Never?”