Page 44 of Richard

“Happy to be of service," he teased shakily. “Should I send you my bill?”

“I can make good on it now.”

He stiffened in shock when she reached between them and closed her hand over his solid length.

“Collette, baby.” A groan escaped him, and he felt his body hardening even more.

“Sweetheart…” With a shaky laugh, he picked her up and laid her on the blanket. “I expect full payment," he warned hoarsely.

*****

He could not sleep. Even after she was snuggled next to him, her soft snores indicating she was out for the count, he lay there staring into the dying embers of the fire. Her words reverberatedinside his head. He wanted to commit murder.

Making sure that she was not disturbed, he eased away from her carefully and pulled the sheets over her. He stood there staring at her for a minute before putting on his clothes. He had to get out of there for a few minutes. He had to think and lying next to her was not going to accomplish that.

Dragging on his boots, he went to grab his jacket. After checking to make sure she was still asleep, he left, closing the door behind him. With no real destination in mind, he headed east, past the barn where the sound of the horses clopping on the ground and shuffling behind the stalls, he took off at a run.

“He told me he did not want to have children. We never spoke about it, not specifically, but he led me to believe that he wanted to be a father. How could I have been so wrong?”

Her plaintive voice haunted his steps, and he could not outrun the pain he had heard while she told the story.

She said she was not in love with the son of a bitch, but he was still standing between them. Even after so many years. She had spoken about therapy. Richard was selfish. Now that he was in love for the first time in his life, he wanted no competition.

He never wanted to share her with some lowlife who never knew the value of the woman he had. But realistically, he could look at it another way. If he had not messed up so royally, Richard would have gone through life lonely, drifting from one relationship to the next.

He should be thanking the son of a bitch. But he was not feeling particularly benevolent to the man. He had messed with the woman he loved and for that, he should pay.

“Are you still in touch with him?” The jealousy was new to him, and he was finding it rather difficult to deal with. Hence the question.

“He called me a few days ago,” she admitted.

“And I take it you told him to go screw himself.?”

She had avoided his incensed gaze.

“You spoke to him?”

“I told him not to call me again.”

“What did he want, Collette?”

She had ducked her head again.

“He said he made a mistake and wanted to meet.”

He had muttered profanities that had her cringing. But he had not apologized because he would not have meant a word of it.

“What did you say?”

“I told him I didn’t want to hear from him.”

“I want you to lose his number, and I mean it, Collette.” He was being high-handed, but he didn’t give a crap. The nerve of the bastard!

The wind whistling through the leaves of the trees and the cold seeping through his jacket brought him back to the fact that he had ventured too far. And had done so without being conscious of the distance.

Bending at the knees, he took several breaths to steady himself before turning around and retracing his steps. He didn’t want her waking up and not finding him next to her. Did she have nightmares? He hoped not. But the thought of it spurred him on until he was making his way toward the barn house.

She was still asleep. He felt the relief coursing through his body. And he was dripping with sweat and freezing. Taking one lastlook at her, he went to find the bathroom to take a much-needed shower.

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