Chapter 4
Violet paced the livingroom of her fourth-floor hotel suite while nibbling on her thumb. The quiet, spacious room did nothing to ease the riotous emotions rushing through her. Not even a bubble bath in the large garden tub helped soothe her. She’d tried calling Kate exactly three times in the last twenty minutes, and her calls went straight to voice mail. She dialed her friend’s number one last time and closed her eyes. Please answer your phone. Please.
“Hi, you’ve reached Kate.” Her friend’s cheery voice filled the line. “I’m unable to come to the phone right now, but if you leave a message, I’ll call you back.”
At the sound of the tone, Violet began again, “Kate, you need to call me. I can’t believe you sent Roman on a date with me,” she huffed. “He’s an arrogant asshole who doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground. He’s not my type, and you of all people should have known that. I’m going home. Don’t try to set me up again.” She hit End on her phone and turned toward the sliding glass door. The silvery light of the moon skimmed over the water of the Atlantic, making it shimmer with each lapping wave.
How could she have been so stupid to agree to this date? She should’ve known better. Was she really this desperate to sit across from a man who kept notches in his bedpost of all his conquests? Someone who didn’t care about whether or not she liked a book because of its characters or plots? Someone who obviously didn’t know what it was like to be rejected?
Violet sighed. All she wanted was to be someone other than herself for a weekend. To finally feel as though she fit in. Maybe some of her fears were self-induced, but could anyone blame her? Her first year away at school she’d met a guy named Taylor Killian—twenty-two, bad boy to the bone, and sexy as sin. When he’d come out of the locker room without his shirt on, Lord have mercy, even her ovaries had screamed in delight. She’d wanted to trace his tattoos—with her tongue preferably—and, in her mind, they were going to ride off into the sunset together since they both liked Chaucer.
Roman had hit every nail on the head. Taylor had seen a free ride in Violet. She’d been bookish, always had her head buried in a good novel. Of all the people in her literature class the guy could’ve dug his claws into, it had been her. And like a lovesick puppy, she’d lapped up his attention. When he’d told her she looked good, even though all she wore were baggy school shirts and her boyfriend jeans, she’d blushed and squealed like a girl once he’d stepped out of earshot.
He’d known what she craved without being told, and in the end, she’d allowed him to reject her, hurting her more than he’d ever care to know. Well, never again. She wouldn’t give Roman the chance to even think about getting into her panties, let alone discard her in front of his friends.
She opened the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the balcony, into the warm night air. The scent of something spicy along with the brine of the ocean wafted around her. Miami. Not her typical watering hole, if she had a typical one, but it suited her. Perhaps she’d stay and have a little fun for a change. When Kate called her back—if she called back—Violet would explain her situation and let her friend know she was still having a good time. Even without Roman.
A knock at the door brought her out of her thoughts. No one knew what room she was staying in. She’d requested no one find out as well. When she’d agreed to this little arrangement, she’d wanted to make sure she had a place she could retreat to when need be. She crossed the room, leaving the sliding door open for the slight breeze, and looked through the peephole of the door.
Roman?Standing there wearing a frown, two food boxes in his hand, the man didn’t hold the same cocky attitude he’d displayed earlier. His hair looked a little disheveled as though he’d run his fingers through it one too many times. The muscle in his jaw twitched as he knocked again.
Jeez, didn’t he take a hint? She didn’t want to see him. Sure, you don’t. Neither does your tingly girly parts. Give it up, Vi. You’ve got it bad for the man. Real bad. Just looking at him made her blood run hot. Her pulse pound. Her nipples pressed against the soft, fluffy robe covering her.
“Go away, Roman,” she said, placing her forehead against the door, banishing him from her wayward thoughts.
“Let me in. I want to apologize, and I brought food.” The boxes of their would-be dinner filled the tiny area she could see in front of the door. “I didn’t bring drinks, but I could order us some.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here.” Even to her ears, her statement was weak.
“All I want to do is make amends. If you don’t like what I have to say, I’ll leave your dinner and go. No harm no foul.”
Violet thumped her head on the door a couple of times, then sighed and opened it. In seconds, Roman filled the entrance, a megawatt smile on his face and the boxes of delicious-smelling food thrust into her hands. If he wasn’t so fucking sexy, she would have slammed the door and not contemplated the ramifications of doing so. Second thought, she would’ve left him there and went to bed.
“So, you’re here,” she said, blocking his way into the room.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
“You’re asking for way too much.” She stepped aside and let him in. “I am going to set the timer on my phone for five minutes. That’s all you’re going to get to apologize.” She grabbed her phone off the coffee table and turned on the alarm. “Your time starts now.”
“Five minutes? Damn. You still look great, by the way. What is that, a terry-cloth robe or something?”
She cocked her brow at him, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Right, apologize and make it good. Four minutes and forty-five seconds. I can do this.” Roman watched as she set the boxes down on the bar behind him, and he rubbed his hands together. “Where to start?” he sighed. “I guess big one is, I’m an asshole.”
“You think?” She snorted.
“More than likely, I’m sure.” He took a step toward her, but when she flinched, he frowned. “Do you know how hard it was finding you? The waitress wouldn’t give me your room number, nor would the front desk. I didn’t even know where to begin to search for you.”
“Poor baby,” she quipped. “Did you ever stop to think I didn’t want to be found after what you did?”
“I started on the sixth floor first. I interrupted a couple having sex. A family with a small child. I found a dude watching porn and an old woman who thought I was her son. But I’d do it all again to find you,” he whispered. “Finally, I found a bellhop who gave me your room number after I paid him forty bucks.”
Roman took her hand in his. “I wasn’t saying it, you know, about the guy, to be mean. What happened to you pisses me off. One, because, let’s face it, baby, that guy was a douche-nozzle prick. I’m serious about the whole shitty-tattoo thing. I bet half of them weren’t even meaningful. He probably walked into some shop that only half-assed it and pointed to the flash.” He puffed out his chest, hooked his thumbs in the front his slacks, and said, “‘I want tattoo B-25 because a skull is awesome.’”
Violet giggled. She’d wondered the same about Taylor’s tattoos. “He had a yellow lightning bolt.”
“Like The Flash?
“Harry Potter,” she corrected.
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Yes.” She laughed.
“Even fucking worse.” He groaned. “What else did he have?”
“Two roses with a snake around the stems. I think the body had been pierced by the thorns.”
Roman moaned as he sat on the plush white couch and closed his eyes.
“Then he had a squirrel on his inner thigh with his arms up.”
His eyes flew open. “No. You’re fucking kidding, right?”
“I wish. He said he was just a squirrel trying to get his nuts.” She tried desperately not to laugh.
“Fucking hell. That’s pretty pathetic. Let me ask you, did he have an original idea on his body at all?”
“Define original,” she said, finally relaxing.
“Like this,” he replied, pulling his shirt out of his pants.
“Whoa. Wait a minute,” she yelped, covering her face with her hands. “What the hell are you doing, Roman?”
“It’s called showing you real tattoos. Don’t tell me you don’t want to see them up close.”
Oh, she did, but seeing his naked torso also heated her blood and made her heart trip a beat. Her palms went sweaty, and she could have sworn she was having a mini anxiety attack.
“W-w-well, I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” she hedged. “I just wasn’t prepared to see this”—she motioned to his sculpted chest and stomach—“tonight.”
Of course, she’d seen it. Well, technically not seen it. More like imagined it. The last time she’d stood in Kate’s backyard, the hot sun beating down on her as she stared at the shirt that molded his upper body perfectly, she remembered thinking she had never been so jealous of cotton before in her life.
Roman let his shirt go and chuckled. “I really make you nervous, don’t I?”
“No,” she answered with a quick shake of her head.
“Violet, don’t lie to me,” he chided. “Come on. It’s not like we don’t know each other.”
She sat on the couch next to him. “Okay, there is knowing each other and then knowing each other. We’re on the line of not quite acquaintances, but we’re also not besties either.” She shifted uncomfortably while taking a peek at his remaining time. “You’ve only got a minute left.”
“I don’t know what else to say other than I wish I would have been there that day, baby,” he said, sitting forward slightly, taking her hand. “I wish I could have pulled you aside and told you how beautiful you are. How much you matter. And I would have, for damn sure, showed you some better ink. Hey!”
Violet clung to her robe, startled by his excitement.
“I brought my kit with me. Wanna tattoo?”
Was he being serious? His features stayed neutral, giving away nothing. The idea of him tattooing her did hold some promise if she wanted to go a little crazy. But on this date? Not happening. Perhaps he had an ulterior motive. Or he was being friendly to get back in her good graces. She frowned.
Roman held up his hands in mock surrender. “Just a suggestion.”
“You just want to see me naked.”
“Can you blame a guy?” he asked. “But I was thinking something above the waist. A new beginning.”
The alarm went off, and Violet sighed. No, Roman hadn’t technically apologized for what had happened in the bar, but she found herself enjoying him and she honestly wanted to see where their date would lead. Plus, he’d been right. Everything he had said. “I don’t even know how to make sense of your question, let alone answer it.”
“Then how about this.” He turned off the alarm and slid closer to Violet. “We continue this date and see where it goes?” His voice had gone whisper soft with a rumbling undercurrent.
She shivered at his proposal. Give him the weekend to explore this, whatever she wanted to call it, or go home? The decision was in her hands.
“Yes.” She nodded.
“Yeah?” His face lit up. A surprised smile tugged at his lips, and the worry lines bracketing the corners of his eyes vanished.
“Yeah,” she answered. Before she could say another word, Roman gathered her up in his arms and pressed his lips to hers. His tongue coaxed her to open for him, and how could she refuse? Parting her lips on a sigh, he delved between them, tangling their tongues together. The taste of hops, barley, and a hint of spice sent a rush of heat through her. His kiss went straight to her head, making her dizzy with anticipation.
Roman broke the kiss and stared down at Violet. “Wow,” he whispered, gripping her chin between his fingers. “I had a feeling it would be good. Fuck, Violet. Come here and kiss me again; then we’ll eat dinner and watch movies.”
He took her lips once more, this time rougher, controlling how their mouths fit together. He teased her. Enchanted her. She eagerly followed him when he pulled away and stood up. The impressive bulge pushing at the front of his pants made her breath hitch and her body grow warm and needy. “Don’t look at me like that right now.”
“Like what?” she asked.
“Like you’re willing to open my pants, pull me out, and swallow me whole. It makes me want to take you to bed and forget about the whole getting-to-know-you thing.” He turned away from her and ran his fingers through his shoulder-length dark hair. “I need a minute to get control of myself.”
Roman shifted uncomfortably. Violet watched as he adjusted his impressive erection, so it didn’t tent the material of his slacks. When he turned back to her, desire was banked in his gray eyes and his lips were slightly parted, as though he worked hard to compose himself.
“Dinner would be great right about now,” Violet whispered before licking her lips.
He laughed. “Baby, dinner sounds fantastic right about now. I’ll grab us drinks from the machine down the hall; you portion out our samplers. Then we’ll pick out a movie.” He paused. “No porn. I swear, if you pick out an adult movie, all bets are off. We’ll have sex tonight.”
“There’s the cocky man I know from all those parties. What’s wrong? Porn turn you on too much?” she teased, not taking her eyes off him.
“Actually no. I don’t like porn. As a matter of fact, when it comes on and I’m with a woman—”
“Groupie,” she supplied with a grin.
“Shut up,” he quipped.
She cocked a brow and tried hard not to laugh at him. “Hey, you did the same to me.”
“Groupie,” he agreed. “I have to prove I’m better than all those low-budget actors.”
“Really?”
“Most definitely. I’ll have to show you sometime.” With a wink he walked over to the door. “Remember, no porn.”
“Yeah, gotcha. No porn.”