by Bella Andre
"I'm glad you got a chance to meet Marcus and his wife, Nicola," she said after taking a sip of the delicious wine.
"They both seemed like nice people," he said as he stirred his homemade sauce, the pasta already rolled, cut, and in boiling water.
Sitting at his kitchen island, watching him put dinner together, she decided she could get used to this kind of treatment. Not only did everything smell amazing, but the truth was her legs were still kind of shaky after their last very acrobatic round of sex.
"They are really nice. No matter how rich or famous or successful my relatives are, they're all good people. I'm not saying they can't be cocky sometimes, or drive you up a wall, but I can't see any of them deliberately hurting anyone. Especially each other."
"How do you think that happened?" He looked up from the stove. "I've met a lot of families doing security, and they spend most of their time fighting and arguing."
"Well, for my eight cousins in San Francisco, their dad died when they were really young, so maybe that bonded them together. I know Marcus did a lot to help raise his siblings, since Lori and Sophie were barely older than babies when it happened. For my Seattle cousins, their parents have always had a great marriage, but as far as I understand, they ran into some pretty big problems when my Uncle Max lost his job a bunch of years back. He wouldn't take any money from his brothers, even though I know my dad kept offering. My cousin Ian--you know, the guy who owns the building I'm living in--gave up a lot to help out. They were always close, but I'm guessing what they went through together helped bring them even closer. And then for my cousins in Maine--" She laughed at herself when she realized she was rattling on endlessly about her big family. "I'm pretty sure you get the picture."
He smiled. "I do. When your family goes through tough times, you band together. Just the way you and your brothers did after your mother passed away." His smile fell. "Whereas most families just fall apart."
She hated seeing the pain on his face and so badly wished she could help make it go away. "Roman, maybe if you talked with your father--"
His face was a hard mask as he plated their food. "If you ever met him, you'd understand why there's no point in wasting my time."
Roman had told her when they were making love that he wouldn't stop loving her. She wanted to believe he'd meant it--that it wasn't simply the orgasms talking. So if he did mean it, wouldn't that also mean she'd meet his father one day?
Considering they'd just made love for the first time tonight, and that only one of them had said I love you, she shouldn't get too far ahead of herself. But it was difficult not to when she'd always gone after what she wanted without second-guessing herself or letting fear impede her determination and focus.
After putting a loaded plate of pasta and sauce in front of her, he brought over his wine glass and plate, then pulled up the bar stool beside her.
"It smells incredible." She took a bite and made an embarrassing sound of culinary bliss.
"I take it that means you like it."
She would have answered him if she could have stopped stuffing her mouth long enough to speak. But between how badly she needed food and what a fabulous cook he was, all she could do was nod while she kept eating. And eating. And eating. Until her fork scraped against her plate and she realized she'd mowed through her meal in record time.
Grinning, Roman didn't miss a beat as he slid his still half-full plate over so that they could both eat. It wasn't just delicious, wasn't just romantic, it was also fun to sit in Roman's kitchen in his loft talking and loving and eating. And it felt right.
So perfectly right.
"I can't remember the last time I ate anything that good." She leaned over to kiss him. "Thank you for making me dinner."
"Thank you for being a woman who eats. I can't remember the last time I met one."
She looked down at the two plates she'd cleared. "If I weren't so stuffed from eating half your dinner in addition to my own, I would be licking the plates right now. So, yeah, I'd say I'm a woman who eats. And now that my energy has been restored, what do you say we leave these dishes in the sink for now so that we can--"
The door buzzer cut off the rest of her sexy proposition. "Roman, it's Dad. You home?"
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Damn it.
Of all the nights for Roman's father to drop by, he had to pick tonight.
All Roman wanted to do was take Suzanne back upstairs and make love to her. The last thing he wanted to do tonight was face reality. Unfortunately, nothing got him closer to reality than Tommy Huson--a man who had loved too deeply and had never been able to recover when it all went wrong.
Roman knew better than to let himself love like that. And yet, when he'd vowed to keep his heart locked in a cage forever, he hadn't expected to meet a woman like Suzanne Sullivan.
"Roman," his father said again, obviously getting impatient, "some kid told me you're here. Buzz me up."
Suzanne put her hand over Roman's. "You're not alone anymore. You helped me with my family at the lake. What do you need me to do to help you deal with your father?"
A part of him wanted her to leave so that she didn't have to see what a train wreck the elder Mr. Huson was. Where Roman had come from. What Roman could have become if he hadn't fought so hard to get the hell away from that world.
But a bigger part of him wanted backup. Backup he'd never had before.
"Just be yourself. And don't take anything he says personally. He's not the most tactful, not the most polite guy on the planet."
"Don't worry about me. I grew up around my brothers and their friends. Not to mention all the strangers who have always pried into my family's private business because of how famous my parents were. No matter what your father says, I'll be fine." She squared her shoulders as if she was preparing for battle. One she would fight for him. "I'll buzz him up if you want to go grab a shirt."
She was right about putting on more clothes. He could only imagine the crude comments his dad would make if he knew they'd been having sex. If his father said one inappropriate thing to Suzanne...
Roman sprinted up the stairs, grabbed a dark T-shirt from his closet, and got back down to the main level just in time to hear the knock on the door.
Suzanne didn't look at all nervous. Instead, she seemed curious about the man who had raised him. Curious and protective. Roman had always had to protect himself. His chest squeezed tight as he realized she'd really meant it when she said he wasn't alone anymore.
Knowing he couldn't put off the inevitable any longer, he opened the door.
"Son." His father clapped him on the back. "Looks like you've been keeping up the workouts." Suzanne moved forward to say hello and his father's eyebrows lifted practically up into his hairline. "I didn't expect to find a pretty woman here." He moved closer and grabbed the hand she'd extended. "Tommy Huson, at your service."
"Suzanne Sullivan." She smiled warmly. "You have a wonderful son."
"Sure do," his father said, nodding. "Couldn't be prouder of him. You should have seen him back in the day, when he used to rule the--"
Thankfully, Suzanne's phone rang with the song, "He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother." Roman knew it was her ring tone for Alec, because her brother had called her cell repeatedly the first couple of days he'd worked with her, when she'd still been too mad at him to pick up. "You should talk to your brother."
"Alec can wait."
Roman appreciated that she wanted to be there for him no matter what. But if her family had heard about the fire in her apartment building, they were probably worried sick. He should already have contacted them to let them know she was safe with him, but he'd been too wrapped up in making love to her to remember how the hell to do his job.
"He might have heard about the fire."
Her face clouded over. "I'll be quick," she promised as she grabbed her phone and headed toward the glass sliding doors that led to his outdoor patio space.
As far as Roman was concerned, his fathe
r watched her walk away with far too much lecherous appreciation. "Good-looking girl you've got there. I hope you're tapping that fine ass."
Roman had his father by the shoulders before he realized what he was doing. "Don't ever speak like that about Suzanne again."
When his father winced, Roman made himself uncurl his hands from his shoulders.
"You've forgotten the rules, haven't you, Roman?" His dad lifted and lowered his shoulders a couple of times as if to make sure no serious damage had been done. "Never trust a good looking woman."
"I said not to talk about her again," Roman warned.
His father might be blood, but Suzanne had come to mean something deep and real to Roman. If he had to choose between his dark past and the promise of a brighter future, there would be no contest.
"All I'm saying is that you've got to be careful with a fancy woman like her. I can tell by the way she moves that she comes from money, comes from something better than us. Look what happened with me and your ma. She swore she didn't care about slumming it with me, but she didn't mean it. She ripped my heart out of my chest and this one will do the same to you if you let her."
"Enough," Roman said in a low voice. The last thing he wanted was to hear reminders of how far out of his league Suzanne was. He already knew it, had known it before he'd started to fall for her.
"I know you don't want to hear it," his father insisted, "but I love you, son. Too much to let you walk down the same road I did."
"How much do you need this time?" Done with the chitchat, Roman reached for his wallet. The sooner they concluded their business, the sooner his dad would leave. Hopefully before Suzanne got off the phone.
"A thousand bucks." His father scowled. "The refs must have rigged last night's match. But I'll win for sure tonight."
"Here." Roman added a couple hundred to the total, hoping it would buy him some time before the next paternal visit.
His father pocketed the money, but didn't turn to go. Instead, he had that calculating look in his eyes that said he wanted more than some temporary cash to tide him over. "Sure you don't want to get back in the ring?"
"Nope."
After Roman had left Eddie's dad, Darrell, on a stretcher, bleeding so bad from one eye socket that they hadn't been able to save his eye--all so their dads could make a few bucks betting on their match--Roman had never stepped back into the ring again. Though he still made money with his fists when he needed them to protect a client, he only used brute force when he absolutely had to. Being a bodyguard was about being smart enough to outmaneuver the incoming threat. As far as he was concerned, if it got physical he hadn't done his job.
"Back in the day, the crowds were huge if you were fighting." His father loved to talk about what he considered to be the glory days. "There's never been anyone like you in the ring, Roman."
"I didn't know you used to box professionally." Suzanne walked back into the kitchen and put her phone on the counter.
Roman hadn't heard the patio door slide open. Damn it, why couldn't Alec have kept her on the phone longer? "I didn't."
"He could have, though. He was the best amateur boxer in the city." His father was beaming at Suzanne. "If we could only get him back into the ring, I'd bet my last dollar on my son. He always won, no matter what it took. Even if he had to fight dirty," he added with a laugh that said he didn't give a crap how bad it had been for the other guys in the ring, as long as his son won.
Suzanne frowned as she looked back at Roman. "I can't see you fighting dirty."
"Oh yeah," his father got in before Roman could get him the hell out the door. "Anything to make sure his pop went home with more than he came in with. Best son a guy could ever have." He patted the wad of money in his back pocket. "Still is. Always there to help me out when Lady Luck is being fickle."
Roman could see Suzanne's wheels turning. He'd known all along that if he let her get this close--if he got out of control enough to take her to his bed--he was going to have to tell her the full truth about why he didn't deserve her. But he'd hoped to have the rest of tonight, at least, before she saw him for the scum that he was.
"It's been a long day, Pop. Time to go."
His father looked like he wanted to stay and get to know Suzanne better--and the half-full bottle of red wine on the counter was likely calling his name too. Fortunately, he was more interested in betting the money burning a hole in his pocket.
Moving toward Suzanne, Tommy took her hand and kissed the back of it. "There's nothing like a beautiful woman to make an old man's steps a little lighter." After he let her go, he nodded at Roman. "Thanks for the loan, son."
Roman didn't get riled up anymore about all the "loans" he'd given his father during the past fifteen years. His dad was just one more person to watch out for. Roman would never be able to save him from his gambling addiction--or the skanky women he fell in with--but he couldn't abandon him either.
The door had barely closed behind his father when Suzanne said, "He bet on your boxing matches?"
It was time for Roman to come clean.
Still, it was hard to change the patterns of over a decade--of diverting people from probing too deeply. "It's ancient history."
"History matters. Especially when it comes to family. If anyone knows that, I do." She put her arms around his waist. "Did you like boxing?"
"It didn't matter if I liked it."
"What happened if you lost?"
Her questions were too incisive. Too close to the parts of himself that he hated having to examine. "I didn't."
"Everyone loses at least once."
"We wouldn't have had the money to pay the rent if I had."
Her eyes widened with increased dismay. "He would bet that much?"
"He trained me to be a sure thing." He wouldn't tell her how painful that training had been. Especially right after his mom left and his dad was so angry. Roman had been the perfect person on whom to vent his fury. "So yeah, the bets got bigger every time." It had been a vicious cycle that Roman couldn't figure out how to escape for far too long.
When she went silent, he tried to change the subject before she could ask any more questions. "What did Alec say? Did he know about the fire? Is he on his way back to the city?"
"Ian was alerted by his building manager and he called me and Alec. Looks like Ian left a message for me a half hour ago." But they'd been too wrapped up in each other to hear it ring. "I told Alec I'm fine and that I'm staying with you, so they have nothing to worry about and shouldn't rush back from the lake tonight. But we can figure out all that tomorrow once they get here, bright and early. Right now I want to know--how badly would you get hurt in your fights when you were a teenager?"
So much for wishing the call with her brother would distract her. Roman had never let anyone get this close, had never planned to tell anyone what he'd kept hidden in his soul. But Suzanne already knew enough and cared enough--hell, she even thought she loved him--that there was no use trying to divert her again.
"Some nights were worse than others," he admitted in a low voice. "My injuries were never anything I couldn't heal from. But some of the guys I fought..." He swallowed hard, putting his hand on his neck and rubbing it as the dark memories flooded back. "They didn't always walk out of the ring in one piece."
"Roman." Her voice wasn't pitying. Not judging, either. Understanding. "He shouldn't have done that. Shouldn't have used his own son that way."
Her empathy touched him deep down in a place where he'd never let anyone else go. The realization of how much he needed to unburden himself to someone who understood made his words extra rough as he worked to compensate for that need. Pushing out of her arms, he walked like a robot over to the couch they'd only just made love on and sank down on it.
"Eddie's dad, Darrell, was the last guy I fought."
Refusing to let him push her away, Suzanne came over to the couch and curled up on his lap, putting her arms around him while he spoke. She was a lifeline he hadn't wanted to need
, but did. Needed more than anything else in the world.
"We went to school together. He was a nice guy. Bigger than I was, but slower. I knew his dad had problems with drugs, that there were people he owed money to, knew his father needed the money maybe even worse than my dad did. But my training--to always win no matter what--wouldn't quit. Even when I knew I should hold back, I didn't. I didn't know how. Didn't have that kind of control. Hadn't been trained for it." He'd been trained to destroy. He swallowed hard, stroking her hair as he spoke. "His eye started bleeding. Bad enough that he should have gone to the hospital. But they didn't have the money. And his father was mad enough at his loss that he took a few swings at him and made things even worse."
Roman remembered wanting to jump between them, but if anyone knew how messed up father-son relationships could be, he did. So he'd stayed out of it. Just collected his winnings and got the hell out of there.
"Darrell didn't come to school for a while. When I found out why--that he'd lost his eye and that an infection from leaving it untreated too long had nearly killed him--I left my dad's house. I didn't have anywhere to go, and when Jerry from the pizza shop figured it out, he let me sleep in his back office. I never fought again. But since I needed money for a place of my own, I did the only thing I figured I'd be any good at. I became a bodyguard." When he finally emerged from his dark memories and looked down at her face, he saw tears swimming in her eyes. "Now you see why you shouldn't be with me, why you shouldn't give a damn about me."
But the horror he expected to see on her face never materialized. Instead, she gently--lovingly--caressed his jaw. "You've told me so much, but you haven't told me the whole story. Have you?"
"You mean about the other guys I hurt in the ring?"
"I'm sure they hurt you too," she pointed out. "But that's not what I'm talking about. I saw how much Eddie loves you, and that you love him too. You've always been there for him, haven't you? You wished you could step in to help Darrell, but you were just a kid. Once you were on your feet, once you could make a difference in his life, you did, didn't you?"
