Page 18 of Sinful Promises

Pulling back from him, I looked up. The concern in his eyes melted my heart. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? She’s your mother. Of course, you’re going to cry.”

I started to shake my head, but he grabbed my hand. “Come to my office.”

Wiping away the annoying tears, I allowed him to lead me along the corridor. “You have an office?”

He stopped at the doorway to the castle library and flicked on the lights. “Yep. My office.”

Half laughing, my spirits lifted as I walked into the room and inhaled the musky scent of century-old books and the well-worn leather of the overstuffed lounges dotted around the room.

“Come on. Over here.” He led me to the sofa nestled next to a mahogany coffee table adorned with a stunning lamp depicting white lilies and a couple of black swans in an embrace. “Sit.”

Doing as he instructed, I slipped into cool leather and hugged a cushion to my chest. Roman sat beside me, our thighs touching. Our hands wove together like this was something we did every day.

God, I loved him.

My heart stopped. It was so foolish to admit that. But I felt it so strongly. Stronger than anything I’d felt in my whole life. I felt it so deeply it burned to the depth of my soul. I wanted to ooze into the sofa and disappear forever.

He squeezed my hand. “Tell me what happened.”

There was no point trying to squirm out of this one. He was as skillful as Zali when it came to getting information out of me. I huffed a sigh. “That was Mother’s doctor on the phone. It’s really bad.” I relayed the doctor’s prognosis, nearly word for word. “She may not live for much longer.”

“You have to go to her.” He wiped my cheek with his fingers. It was a featherlight touch, but it had the ache around my heart strangling me.

I blinked up at him. Barely able to form words, I said, “But?—”

“Once she’s gone . . .” He shook his head. “You’ll regret it if you don’t see her.”

I eased back. “No, I won’t.”

“I think you will.”

“Roman.” I pleaded with my eyes, wanting him to understand yet at the same time, knowing that was impossible. We were so different. Our childhoods were worlds apart. “You have no idea of the things she’s done to me.”

With eyes loaded with curiosity he blinked at me. “So, tell me.”

My shoulders sagged and my soul wept. I wanted to. I wanted him to know everything about me, yet I also wanted to run away and never think of him again. Finally, I said, “We’d be here till Christmas.”

He tilted his head and glanced down at me with that sisterly love look that melted my heart in ways that it shouldn’t.

It was the slap I needed to lure me out of my fog. I released my hand from his grip and shoved a curl from my eyes. “We should go to bed.”

His eyes widened.

“Me, alone, by myself. Not with you. Definitely not us together.” Oh, faaark. I was a rambling idiot. “On that note.” I pushed to standing. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Ever the gentleman, Roman escorted me to my room. He unhooked the bodice of my dress for me, and it wasn’t even close to being erotic. Which was good. And bad. But mostly good.

With my arm over my chest, clutching the satin over my nakedness, I smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

“Any time. I hope you know that, Daisy.” He offered a lopsided smile, and my heart soared.

I am so much in love with him it hurts. One hundred percent, head-over-heels in love. “Why are you so nice to me?”

He cupped my cheek, and I leaned into the warmth of his hand. “I told you—because I really like you.”

My heart thumped in my chest as I looked into Roman’s gorgeous honey eyes. “I really like you too.” But it was much more. So much more that my heart hurt.

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