Page 128 of Prelude To You

Inside me, the conflict between fear and desire burst into a vortex of confusion. I had so many questions, the main one being whether Henry was Roman’s father. That seemed prettyobvious, but the thought needed to be carefully tucked away until I had the presence of mind to comprehend it.

There were too many other things to figure out first. For one, what were the chances? How did something like this happen? I couldn’t even imagine Meg’s reaction to this. She was going to have a meltdown of epic proportions.

Confronted with this mortifying development, there was a lot to consider. I could save everybody a lot of time and myself a lot of embarrassment if I simply left all this behind and returned to Le Petit Chateau, because the pastry station was there for the taking.

My resolve to get Henry back on his feet wavered for a moment before I realized I could never walk away from a commitment like that. I was determined to do whatever I could to wake Henry up. That was the only hitch in my plan to quietly slip away from the estate like I’d never been there in the first place.

I checked the back of the second floor to see if there was a door I could escape through. But there was no door, and no way to sneak out of the library unnoticed.

All I could do was wait until Roman was finished with his business here, and returned to wherever it was he’d come from. Presumably he was the all-important Mystery Dweller in the south wing. The forbidden zone. The inner sanctum where no one was allowed. Whatever.

Oh my God, I was so unbelievably fucked.

So, was all this the reason he couldn’t pursue me? Now it made more sense. I was good enough for a few hours of fun, but Cassandra had the pedigree he needed, even if he wasn’t in love with her. Even if he thought of me when he was alone at night. That’s to say he thought of me at all.

My gaze was stuck on Roman as he stood at the oak table, reading one of the books. His demeanor wasn’t as commandingas I recalled, and melancholy scarred his elegant features. I tried to quiet the yearning that erupted inside of me, irritated that I was still so utterly captivated by the man.

Even now, after everything that happened and all I knew about him, I was unable to think of him as anything other than the man who consumed me, heart and soul, inside that penthouse. Who worshipped every part of me, knew instinctively what I needed from him at any given moment, and never denied me the pleasure I so desperately craved.

Suddenly Roman lifted his head and looked around, as if sensing something.

And then he gently sniffed the air.

My heart stopped as I stared in stunned confusion. I’d used only a tiny dab of fragrance, but what if a whiff of me had drifted down?Would he even recognize my scent?

I remembered when he smelled my dress. And I remembered losing the battle to retain any capacity for rational decision-making at the very moment I saw him do that.

Roman wiped a hand over his face, a weariness in the gesture, as if he was disheartened. A quiet beep rang out. He fished a phone from his pocket, placed it on the table and put it on speaker.

“Kayla.”

“Morning,” Kayla greeted him. “So how did your call with Mr. Nakamura go?”

Roman wandered over to the window and took in the view. “Could have gone better. He’s a tough nut to crack.”

My pulse quickened at hearing Roman’s voice. That was the voice whispering my name as his mouth brushed mine, him deep inside of me, both of us teetering on the verge of that cresting wave before he took me with him over the steep cliff.

I bit my lip.

Now was not the damn time.

Kayla continued, ever the efficient assistant. “I emailed you all the business updates. But before I go off duty, a couple of personal things.”

A small draft fluttered through the air, causing a shiver to run down my back. Where Roman’s voice sent my pulse ablaze, Kayla’s voice took me back to that dark place where I was trying to cope with the bleak ending to that perfect night.

And that was before meeting Steven, who took it from bleak to grimmest. Had Roman left Kayla instructions, or was she already so skilled that it all happened routinely? At least she was very nice about it.

“Geneviève asked that you call her after the board meeting today,” Kayla told Roman.

“Make a note to Andy to remind me.”

“Also Jordan Cotliar was curious as to why his pastry and dessert menu in the U.S. is being recalled by you personally.”

“Because I have it on good authority that our pastries suck,” Roman said. “Obviously whoever’s overseeing quality control isn’t doing their job. We can only hope they’re doing a better job in Europe and Asia.”

Kayla laughed. “Let me guess, the pastry chef.”

“She wasn’t subtle about it either,” Roman said, an unexpected tenderness slipping into his tone. “It was quite something to watch her dissect the pastries one by one, outraged by the less-desirable ingredients.” A smile lurked in the corners of his mouth as he remembered, but it dwindled as fast as it appeared.

---