Page 13 of Mine to Keep

Chapter Eight

Veronica grinnedunder the visor of her brand spanking new pink and black helmet. Never in a million years would she ever have imagined herself on the back of a motorbike, clinging tightly to her very own bad boy, sex god. Pulses of need vibrated through her body as the bike moved underneath them, making her wish she had a little more room to squirm on the leather seat. She loved riding on top of Robert’s Harley!

She’d just about melted when Robert presented her with the helmet earlier and then pulled it gently over her head, adjusting the fit. Though nervous, she’d stood docilely, excited for her very first ride. While he was busy tucking her hair back, she’d stealthily pulled the receipt that had fallen out of the brand-new leather helmet bag toward her. Her jaw fell open. It was dated and timestamped for two hours after he met her in Jay’s office at the dockyard. His eyes met hers and she saw a fierce burning possession in their depths. She also saw a hint of worry. He was afraid of scaring her. Of coming on too strong, too quickly.

She’d reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for an enthusiastic kiss, bashing him in the head with her new visor. They’d laughed and then he’d found his way safely to her lips, bestowing a lingering kiss before dragging her down to his bike for some show and tell before taking her for a ride.

They rode together through some of the best parts of Vancouver. He took her through Stanley park, past the harbor, to Granville island, over the Lions Gate Bridge and the Golden Ears Bridge (which was utterly breathtaking on a bike!). They stopped for an early supper at the Pourhouse Restaurant in Gastown before he claimed that he had one more stop. Veronica nodded, smothering a yawn. She really just wanted to go to home and crawl onto her couch with her new favourite cuddle toy, but she had so thoroughly enjoyed indulging Robert and playing tourist in her hometown that she would happily go anywhere with him.

Rush hour was hitting hard in metro Vancouver once they got back on the bike and it took over an hour for Robert to navigate the traffic to their next stop. She was beginning to like the sound of his fantasy home in the mountains more and more as he dodged vehicles. She could feel the tension vibrating through him and hear the barely leashed growls every time they had to stop at a red light.

She giggled and thought they must be headed someplace private. Oh good! He must have deemed her body appropriately recovered from his massive… appetite of the night before. Because between the vibrations of the Harley and being worshipped like a goddess all day, she was completely ready for a second ride on that rock hard… body. Oh god, what was this man and his bike doing to her!? She’d gone from living like a nun to a complete sex fiend in less than twenty-four hours.

Her eyes widened when she realized they’d entered Port Moody and were slowing down through a residential neighborhood overlooking the water. The houses were growing further apart and becoming bigger as he drove. Her breathing quickened and an old, familiar feeling of not belonging began to rise up within her. She had a terrible suspicion she knew where he was taking her.

Robert turned his bike into the driveway of a breathtaking home far bigger than anything she’d ever even imagined visiting. She couldn’t even remember seeing a home like this from a distance. Sure, Jay kept her in the lap of luxury, in a condo, furnished with everything she would possibly want or need. But Veronica rarely indulged in anything that wasn’t an absolute basic need. With the exception of her beautiful nighties, she hardly touched the allowance Jay placed in her bank account. It was Jay that insisted on buying her the newest of everything. She didn’t even like buying magazines with fancy houses in them. She hated being reminded that some people had so much, while so many people had so little.

She sat frozen on the bike, staring at the house made of glass, metal and concrete while Robert turned the bike off and twisted around to look at her. She knew he couldn’t see her expression, but he could feel her arms pull away from him and see the rigidity of her small body. He pulled his own helmet off and set it on the fuel tank before reaching for hers. He gave it a small tug, pulling gently so her hair wouldn’t catch.

“This is where you live?” Veronica asked in a small voice, dropping her eyes to hide her disappointment.

The house alone must have cost several million dollars, not including the cars she imagined would be in the massive garage attached to the house. What kind of man was she entangled with? Why hadn’t she thought of this when she’d jumped into bed with him?

Robert climbed off the bike and looked down at her, tilting her face up and forcing her to look up at him so he could take in her expression. She blinked at him, focusing on his leather jacket and broad shoulders, his mussed dark grey hair. Anything but those probing hazel eyes that saw too much.

“You don’t like it?” he asked, his gravelly voice a demand. He glanced back at the house with a frown.

She shook her head a little, her red highlights glinting in the dying sunlight. His eyes traced over her face and hair. He tucked a lock behind her ear and tugged her arm, pulling her off the bike. When she was standing next to the bike, he slid an arm around her and urged her toward the massive house. Her heart pounded as they drew closer. It was truly beautiful, a symbol of status and wealth. Glancing over, she saw the Lion’s Gate Bridge in the distance. Holy hell, the view!

She so didn’t belong here! This was so far away from Hastings and Victory Square. So far away from the grubby kid that used to check garbage cans and dumpsters outside of diners for scraps when she didn’t make it to the food bank or soup kitchens in time for a meal.

Robert unlocked the door and escorted her inside. Shit, it was even worse inside. The windows were floor to ceiling glass with views of forest, water and rolling valley. She wanted to cry. She crossed her arms under her breasts and sniffed, turning away from the window. When she found herself facing a spacious living room with a giant stone fireplace, inviting leather furniture and a gorgeous rug, a single tear splashed down her cheek.

“Jesus!” Robert exclaimed, turning her to face him. “If you hate it that much, we’ll sell it immediately and get a new house. It’s not worth crying over, Veronica.”

She felt suddenly inexplicably angry. Didn’t he get it? It wasn’t just the house. It was the money. It was everything. It was too much. Way, way too much. She felt like she was suffocating all of a sudden. She reached up and yanked the zipper of her new leather coat down, exposing her chest. She wished now that she hadn’t chosen a low-cut flirty tank top, but she needed to breath.

Robert reached out to touch her arm, but she shoved him away. “I can’t be bought!” she snapped. “Don’t bother trying! I don’t want houses… or… or leather coats, or helmets. I don’t want this!”

He looked shocked and a piece of her heart ached that she’d spoken to him like that, but she couldn’t seem to calm down. Her heart was racing in her chest and she felt dizzy. Like she had the first time he’d come to her apartment. She’d known he hadn’t belonged in her space. Her body had told her. Now her body was telling her she didn’t belong in his. Her breathing picked up another notch and her racing heart felt like it was going to explode. She wrenched her coat off and let it drop to the floor. Tears slipped down her face. Thoughts flew through her brain.

You’re no good, Veronica. You don’t belong here. You don’t deserve him. Whore. Junkie.

She clutched her head and tried to remember what her counsellor told her. It had been months since she’d booked a session, two years since her last panic attack. She’d been doing so well, until this week. She dropped to her knees and tried to breath. Tried to remember what Olivia had told her at times like this. She was supposed to talk back to the bad thoughts.

You are a good person. You do deserve all the good things. You never asked for anything bad to happen. You worked hard to get better. You are not a whore. You are not a Junkie.

You deserve to be happy…

It took her a moment to realize that Robert was on his knees next to her, urging her to breath slowly. She looked him in the eyes and followed his instructions, even though she couldn’t hear them through the rushing in her ears. She watched his lips form words. Such beautiful lips. She wanted to trace them with her fingers and her tongue. Would he still want her after watching her have a meltdown?

He flashed her a grin and said, “Fuck yeah, I’ll always want you, sweetheart.”

She groaned. Had she said that out loud?

He carefully gathered her into his arms and pulled her onto his lap. She went without protest, feeling a little weak and shaky from her freak out. She stared up at him and finally indulged herself by reaching up to touch his full lips. She let her fingers drift to his unshaven cheek and chin, touching the rough, masculine face that fascinated her so much.

He squeezed her against his chest. “I would never treat you like something that could be bought,” he said in a voice that was so serious she felt immediately chastened.

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