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She folded her arms and glared at him. “What if I don’t want to talk to you?”
Didn’t seem like she had much of a choice. He slowly and deliberately crossed the room to where she stood, his eyes never leaving her face, and stopped in front of her at a distance that was probably just a bit too close for her comfort. So that she had to look up to meet his eye. Even in her gargantuan heels.
“Sweetheart, all you have to do is listen.”
It took a lot to make Grace Winchester squirm, but he was sure he had her panties in a twist right now, but she held her ground. Her confidence and competence had fascinated Roman from the day they were introduced by a mutual friend in college. She had been young and pretty, sharp as a whip, ridiculously smart and motivated, and he had been instantly drawn to her. The first time he talked to her, he could see that she felt it too—that tug.
He had always been a practical, logical person, but there had been nothing logical about his feelings for this woman he had barely known at the time. She had turned his whole world upside down. Back then she was confident, driven and full of energy. And he’d wanted her. Badly. He’d had no idea who she was until weeks later when, scanning the society pages, he happened to see a photo of Gracie and her sisters with Sutton taken at some charity event. Being a navy brat, he’d lived in bases all over the world. He’d had no clue about high-society Chicago.
He and Gracie had grown pretty close by then, and knowing she’d held that back from him had hurt his feelings and had him questioning their friendship. He’d confronted her, and her explanation for the deception had broken his heart. She’d shrugged, as if it was no big deal, and said, “People use me to get to my father all the time. When someone shows interest in me, I have a process. I had to know if you were really who you said you were.”
“And you think I am?” he’d asked, hoping she’d say yes.
She’d smiled and said, “Yeah, I do. Thanks for being a real friend.”
In that instant, he’d realized he could never be with her. He’d wanted to. More than she ever could have imagined. But friendship was the only thing she’d really needed from him. Someone to always have her back, and help keep away those people who would try to take advantage of her. And it had been shocking to see just how many there were. That’s when he genuinely understood her caution, and the realization had cemented them firmly in the friendship zone. If they were to get into a romantic situation that didn’t work out, he knew it would end their friendship. Then who would watch out for her? Who would be her “true” friend?
It wasn’t a chance he had been willing to take. Not then anyway. But later, after he graduated, things changed. And by then it was too late to change back.
“I want to explain what happened,” he told her.
Her voice ice-cold, she said, “You mean how you tried to destroy my family. Again.”
It was the “again” that got him, and the hint of pain layered just beneath the anger in her voice. The last thing he’d wanted to do was hurt her. “Brooks hired me to investigate and I was doing my job.”
She huffed. “Sure you were. By making up lies and spreading rumors about us. Just like the last time. I know my father isn’t perfect, but to accuse him of date rape?”
“That wasn’t me. I had no intention of accusing him of anything until I had the facts. But Brooks was pushing me for an update so I told him what information I already had. I told him that it was unsubstantiated, and I needed more time to investigate. Brooks didn’t want to wait. I was just as shocked as everyone else when he went public.”
Roman hadn’t known that Brooks had been planning to take all that unverified evidence to the local media until it was too late. Unfortunately his brother Graham hadn’t realized either that Brooks’s only goal had been to take Sutton and his family down, even if his allegations were based on rumors and lies. But by then there was nothing Roman or anyone else could do to stem the flow of speculation and accusations. The damage was already done.
Definitely not Roman’s fault.
“It’s not as if you have a history with this sort of thing,” Gracie said, her tone dripping with resentment as she propped her hands on her very sexy hips, lifted her chin high and met his gaze. As if to say, Here I am. Take your best shot.
“I’ve made terrible mistakes,” he told her, and his candor made her blink with surprise. But he believed in taking responsibility for his actions, no matter how hard it might be. “I know I’ve caused you and your family unspeakable pain. And I’ve had to live with that. But I swear to you that I didn’t have any knowledge of Brooks’s plan and had nothing to do with it. I was just doing my job.”
“Give me one good reason why I should believe you.”
“I don’t have one.” If he were her, he probably wouldn’t believe him, either.
She didn’t seem to know what to say, when in the past she’d always had strong opinions about pretty much everything.
“Now I want to ask you a question,” he said.
She shook her head. “Nope. That was not part of the deal. I’m only supposed to listen, remember? It’s just like you to go back on your word.”
A direct hit. Clearly she was giving him no slack. That was more like the Gracie he knew.
“Answer it, don’t answer it, that’s up to you,” he said. “I just want to know why you let Sutton do that to you.”
Her brow wrinkled with confusion, and her curiosity won out over her stubborn nature. “Do what?”
“Belittle and disrespect you.”
She instantly went on the defensive, looking outraged by his accusation. “He didn’t. He loves me.”
“You’re so used to it you don’t even see it,” he said, shaking his head sadly. Sutton was a textbook sociopath. Roman wasn’t sure if he was even capable of genuine love. He was too narcissistic.
“See what?” she snapped.
“Let’s put it this way. You have a name and it isn’t Princess.”
* * *
Gracie rolled her eyes in exasperation. “It’s a term of endearment. Not an insult.”
“Not during a business meeting,” Roman said, and she felt her resolve falter. Okay, so it did annoy her a little when her father called her Princess in certain situations. Especially in business meetings. But that was just his way.
“And that’s not half as bad as the way he just bartered you like property to get what he wanted,” Roman said.
Ouch. He hit a raw nerve with that comment, and it took everything in her not to wince. He was right. What her father had done to her today was beyond humiliating. And inexcusable. But she didn’t believe he was intentionally disrespecting her. He was just used to getting what he wanted.
And how does that make it okay? an annoying little inner voice asked.
Simple. It didn’t. There was nothing okay about the way he’d treated her, so why did she put up with it? He would have never done such a thing to Gracie’s sisters. But then again, they wouldn’t have tolerated it. Had she been so enamored, such a devoted daddy’s girl, that she let him walk all over her? That he took advantage of her devotion?
The idea made her sick to her stomach.
She could blame it on his illness but she would only be lying to herself.
“No one deserves to be disrespected that way,” Roman said, and she recognized his tone. She’d heard it a lot near the end of their relationship. He was angry. But not at her.
He was angry for her.
She had no idea what that meant, or how she should take it. Or even what she should say in response. Thank you? Mind your own business?
After all this time why did he even care anymore? Was this some sort of trick or manipulation? Was he using her to get to her father again?
“You should have told us both to go to hell,” he said, sounding genuinely mad. And he was right, she should have, so why hadn’t she? Why had she...
Her thoughts came to a screeching halt.
Wait a minute. Roman had been the one to suggest the bargain in the first place. Was that not disrespectful, as well? Who was he to judge her father? Or her.
Her temper flared and her blood simmered in her veins. “Could you be more of a hypocrite? Are you forgetting that you started it? You put me in the hot seat.”
“I did,” he admitted, looking unapologetic. “And it was wrong. Absolutely. But I honestly didn’t think he would do it. I thought he would throw me out on my ass. I would have if it was my daughter.”
Ouch, another direct hit. Damn him. And he was right. If she were ever to have a child, she could not even imagine putting him or her in such a compromising position. “So why didn’t you just walk away? You didn’t want to help him in the first place so I’m sure it would have given you a lot of satisfaction to leave him hanging.”
“It would,” he agreed. “But it gives me more satisfaction to know that I talked to you, and you listened. That was all I wanted.”
“Why?” she said, then immediately regretted the question. Maybe she didn’t want to know why. Because the look in his eyes...
It was the one he always got right before he kissed her. And they were standing so close that if he wanted to, he would barely have to lean forward...
“On second thought I don’t want to know,” she said, taking a small step back, hoping he wouldn’t notice. But of course he did.
His eyes sparked with mischief. “Are you afraid you might like what I have to say? Or are you just afraid of me in general?”
Pretty much all of the above. She didn’t even want to go there, but as he stepped a little closer, invading her personal space, her feet felt glued to the floor.
“I have no reason to be afraid of you,” she said, cursing the slight wobble in her voice.
“I came here at your father’s request for one reason, and one reason only,” he told her, leaning in just a little, and she braced herself for what she already knew was coming. “Because I thought I might see you.”
Damn, that was what she was afraid of.
His wry grin said he was having too much fun torturing her. And it was torture to be so close to him and not be able to put her hands on him. How had this happened when a few minutes ago she hated him? Well, maybe not hated. That was a very strong word. And for all their troubles, sexual attraction had never been one of them. Not even at the end.
Obviously, not even now.
The first year they’d known each other their relationship had been deeply rooted in the “just friends” category. And he truly had been her best friend. However, that had never doused the fires of a heart-melting crush. But he’d never shown an interest in her physically, so she had been convinced she wasn’t his type. Until one night after a horror-movie marathon, as they were hugging goodbye at his apartment door. She had pushed up on her toes to kiss Roman’s cheek, and he had leaned forwrad in that exact second to kiss hers. She had tilted one way, and he the opposite, and somehow their lips had collided.
And oh. My. God.
The kiss had gone from zero to sixty in an instant. Roman had groaned and tangled his fingers in her hair, pulled her close. Then they couldn’t stop kissing, and before she knew what was happening she was off her feet. He carried her to his bedroom, where they ripped at each other’s clothes, falling into a tangle on the unmade bed. The sex was even better than she had imagined it would be. And boy, had she imagined it a lot. He had more than exceeded her expectations.
They’d made love half the night, and fallen asleep in each other’s arms. She’d been sure the next morning the disappointment would come. He would blame it on the bottle of wine they had shared, and ask her if they could go back to just being friends. And she’d known it would break her heart, and seeing him with another woman would destroy her, but she couldn’t imagine losing his friendship.
But he had told her he loved her instead. That he had always loved her, and wanted her, and she’d nearly wept with relief. After that they’d been inseparable. She’d loved him with all of her heart.
Then he had betrayed her.
Three (#ulink_428f9649-1a74-5aac-ba43-7efc2fe815d2)
Those warm fuzzy memories from their past turned to ice in her veins. Was he here not really to explain, but to turn her against her own father? His weapon this time wasn’t lies and accusations. This time it was truth. And the truth did hurt. A lot.
But why should she trust anything he said to her?
Something in Roman’s expression changed. “Did someone open a window? It just got chilly in here.”
“I see what you’re doing,” she said, backing away from him. “You’re trying to turn me against my father.”
A shadow passed across his face and the temperature dropped another ten degrees. “Is that really what you think?”
She had offended him. Well, tough. “You’ve tried it before.”
“As someone who lost both of his parents at a very young age, I would never intentionally put a wedge between a parent and a child.”
“You told me my father was working with the mob! How did you think I would feel?”
“I said that I suspected he was. And I only told you that to keep you safe. And you didn’t believe me anyway.”
“And I was right. There were no mob ties, were there?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“And I wasn’t laundering money for him, either. Or destroying evidence. Was I?”
That made him wince a little. “No, you weren’t.”
“After all this time I still can’t believe you would accuse me of that,” she said. “I thought you knew me better.”
“I didn’t accuse. I asked.”
“You suspected, and that was just as bad. The idea that you believed I might be capable—” Emotion rushed up to block her airway, making it impossible to finish her sentence. It was taking all her strength to hold back the sob that was working its way up.
She would not cry. He wasn’t worth it.
She thought she’d put all of these feelings to rest, but here she was raw and bleeding again.
She was not going to cry.
“I made a mistake,” he said, “and not a day has gone by since then that I haven’t regretted it.”
He was making it worse, being so reasonable. Admitting he was wrong. And if she didn’t get a grip, she was going to go all girly on him. She was not a crier. The last time she remembered shedding a tear was the day of Sutton’s cancer diagnosis. But here she was fighting back a waterfall.
He needed to go now.
“Your time is up,” she said, not even looking to the clock to see if thirty minutes had passed. Or was it supposed to be twenty? She couldn’t even remember. She just wanted him gone. And she hated herself for letting him get to her. For letting herself care at all. She was stronger than that. And smarter. “You have to leave.”
He didn’t look at his watch as he nodded. Apparently he had said all he came to say. “I’ll let myself out.”
Maybe he could see that she was hanging on by a very thin thread and was kind enough to spare her dignity.
She watched him cross the room to the door, noting a slight catch in his gait, as though he was favoring his left leg. He stopped on the threshold, his broad shoulders nearly filling the frame, and turned back to her. She held her breath, waiting, feeling an overwhelming sense of anticipation.
“Seven years ago, I thought I could keep the nature of my investigation from you. That alone was wrong. And when you did find out I should have trusted you when you said you weren’t involved. But I was young and arrogant and I screwed up. I know I never apologized for what I did, but only because I didn’t think you would ever accept it, or that I even deserved your forgiveness. But I’m saying it now. I’m sorry, Gracie.”
Her heart melted. She wanted to run across the room, throw her arms around his neck and tell him that she forgave him, that she would always forgive him, but she had to keep her head on straight. She was caught up in the moment, in his tender honesty, and knew she would regret letting him off too easy. Besides, she didn’t even know if she did forgive him, or if she believed he had nothing to do with the latest scandal. She didn’t know what to think, so she chose her words carefully.
“I appreciate that,” she said, which got her a wry, slightly crooked grin.
“I get it,” he said. “You’ll accept my apology in your own good time. I understand, and I’m in no hurry.”
She had no idea what to say, but it didn’t matter because he turned and then he was gone.
