Page 34 of Raising His Baby (The Sartoris 2)

“If you want to take care of Arron, I don’t have a problem with it. Just don’t screw around with Romy.”

She walked out of the kitchen, leaving her tea behind and went up to her room. If she had any sense, she would pack her things now and get out of there. She might even take Arron with her, but she knew that would end badly. No, she had to stick it out and get past the embarrassment that just happened. It might be better to act like she wasn’t wrong if she did let Cason hold her, and since he said he wouldn’t make indecent proposals to her anymore, she was safe there. She might not like Romy believing a lie, but she had no choice. From the sound of it, not only Ezio but Cason too would fight her if she tried to get involved with Romy. Better to leave the misconceptions in place and build the best life she could at the mansion. As long as she was with Arron, that was all that mattered.

Chapter 12

A knock sounded at the door just as Sonya buckled her sandal on. She made sure her back faced the door when she called, “Come in.”

Romy strode in. He liked to stop by her room to get Arron before heading down to breakfast, and she usually went with the two of them. This time, she scooted into her and Arron’s private bathroom.

“He’s ready. You can take him. I’ll be a bit longer.”

She heard Romy cooing to the baby and Arron’s sweet laughter, but it didn’t sound like Romy headed for the door. She had the feeling he waited for her to start making excuses. Well, if he wasn’t going to get out, she would. She checked her face and hair one last time and clicked the bathroom light off. Romy sat on her bed with the baby on his lap.

“Well?” he said.

“Well what?”

“Aren’t you going to talk about last night?”

“Oh, you mean your date?” She shrugged. “I assumed it went fine, but I didn’t think you’d come in here wanting to talk about it. When did we become girlfriends?”

He scowled. “I was talking about Cason and you.”

“Oh that? Nope, I wasn’t going to talk about it. If you’re going to hang out here, enjoy yourself. I’m hungry, and I’m sure Arron is too.”

She could see the wheels turning in his head and held her breath to keep from laughing. Romy was pissed because she started the conversation with reminding him about his date. That effectively shut him down from making demands to know what she was doing with Cason. He couldn’t find anything to fault her on, and it drove him nuts. Well, good. He and his brothers had tormented her enough. Let him stew.

She walked downstairs and took her place at the family table. Since that first day when Romy led her and Arron to the other dining room, Ezio had assured his brother they were all welcome at the table. He wouldn’t hear of Romy eating separate from the rest of them. They must all really love him, and it wasn’t about her. She could understand them doing whatever was necessary to protect him.

Romy strode in a few moments after and set Arron in his chair. Twice he turned to Sonya as if he had something to say, and twice he changed his mind. He fixed Arron’s plate, being a pro by now, and helped him when he needed it. His jaw and shoulders were tight. Romy was far too easy to read.

Perhaps Cason was right. She could ride Romy if she wanted. The right woman could probably have him behaving like a trained puppy even after he’d been hurt and how little he trusted women. She wasn’t that type of woman, although they didn’t know it. If Romy had been as hurt as Cason said he was he deserved better than manipulation. He deserved love.

She cringed at the word. Not because she didn’t want it, but she shouldn’t be thinking about Romy in those terms. She should be angry at him and his brothers or at least indifferent. How had it gone last night? She couldn’t ask without talking to him about her and Cason, and he wouldn’t believe her.

She left the table after breakfast and cleaned the baby up. When her room was straightened she put Arron down for a nap. Afterward, she gathered laundry to take downstairs. Having servants wasn’t something she felt comfortable with yet, so she did her own underwear and bras. No one had tried to stop her or make her feel foolish for doing it herself.

In the laundry room, she filled the machine with whites and grabbed the detergent. Empty. She scanned the room for another bottle and found one on a high shelf above the machines. Even standing on her tiptoes, she couldn’t reach the bottle. “This is ridiculous. I know I’m not tall, but for real? Who the heck built these shelves?”

Her fingers grazed the bottle, and then a long arm reached over her head. Romy had come up behind her to get the detergent for her. He set it on the washing machine, and she mumbled thanks.

He leaned on the dryer, still too close. She tried busying her hands after she added detergent to the machine and twisted the knob, but there was nothing else to do.

“Sonya.”

“I know I don’t have to do my own laundry,” she rushed to say. “Doing it never bothered me.”

“I don’t care if you do your own, if that’s what you want.”

“So what then?”

He hesitated. There they were again, staring into each other’s eyes. Neither of them said a word, and it seemed like all the air was sucked out of the room. Her chest ached, and she couldn’t breathe. The space between her and Romy wasn’t much to begin with. Then the inches were gone, and he leaned above her, his body grazing hers.

She wanted to move and stay where she stood at the same time. Her fingers itched to play in his hair or to grip his shoulders. She wanted to be cocooned in his arms and feel his heartbeat against her ear.

Stop, Sonya. You’re only tormenting yourself.

His lips came nearer, and hers parted without a thought. A gentle brush, and she luxuriated in the featherlight kiss. Afterward, she wasn’t sure if she put an inch between them or he did. Who shook? Was it him or her? She couldn’t be sure.

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