Page 70 of Sinful Temptations

“Jeez.” He drove his fingers through his hair, and it bounced back into place.

I released a huge sigh and a kind of numbness settled over me as we fell into a comfortable silence.

It was a minute or so before Roman met my gaze. “Thank you.”

I blinked at him. “What for?”

“For telling me.”

A tiny smile inched across my lips. “Thanks for listening.”

He pulled me to his chest, and the therapeutic beat of his heart calmed me as did his delightful scent. Roman gave good hugs. It was like he had a special power that removed all the worries in the world. Even my insides had settled. Or maybe it was his delicious soup.

A brutal reality slammed into my brain like a freight train.

In just over four months, I may never hug Roman again.

Oh, God. What was I going to do?

My phone rang and with a jolt, I pulled back from Roman.

I glanced at my bedside table and when I saw the number on the cell, my heart sunk like a brick. Mother.

Roman looked at me with a curious expression. “Do you want to answer that?”

“No.”

He cocked his head. “Do you want to check who it is?”

“I know who it is. Mother.”

“Okay.” He looked uncomfortable. After what I’d just told him there was no possible way to interpret what’d be going through his brain.

He had a truly special relationship with his mother and his whole family for that matter. It may have been impossible for him to understand how I felt about my mother.

Her timing was perfect to ruin our special moment, and I cursed her for the millionth time. When the ringing stopped, I gulped my wine and prayed it wouldn’t ring again.

It did. Of course, it did. Mother would never go away now that she had my number.

The dark expression on Roman’s face grew darker. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No.”

The phone kept ringing. Five. Six. Seven.

I wanted to grab it and toss it out the chalet window. If it wasn’t my work phone, I would have. And if I wasn’t required to have it on 24-7, I would’ve switched it off.

It stopped and seconds later, started again. Groaning, I stood and snatched it from the bedside table.

“I can go if you want.”

“No,” I snapped. But I hadn’t meant to. I sighed. “Please, don’t go. I need you.”

Roman stood, strode to me, and wrapped his arms around me. He always knew exactly what to do. I tossed the ringing phone onto my bed, clutched his body to mine, andsqueezed. His beating heart was a soothing dose of medicine for my raging emotions. The phone rang again.

He eased back.

“Sorry. She’s not going to give up.”

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