12. Isabel
The mille-feulles took me the better part of the night but they were perfect. And I put in extra effort this morning with my own appearance. To be honest, it was Meg making me change tops three times until she was happy. We settled on the oversized pirate shirt, which was really lovely.
“Oh my God, he’s going to love this,” Meg squealed as she surveyed me. “A lot. You look vulnerable, pretty and oh-so-adorable.”
I winced. “I would have gone for strong and appealing, but okay.”
Meg shook her head, puffing up my sleeves. “No, Isabel. We’re aiming straight for his instinct to protect you from the big bad world. You shouldn’t look like you can do that yourself. Even if you can.”
* * *
When I arrivedat Belmont Manor, I waited for Nelson to take the confectionary box because it was heavy and he’d have immediate access to a pastry for Roman.
As I walked from the SUV to the front door, I could feel Roman’s eyes on me. I would have given anything for a glimpse into his mind.
When I glanced up at the second floor in the south wing, the sun’s glare prevented me from seeing him. But I knew he was there. In less than fifteen minutes we’d be together in the library. My heart skipped a beat at the mere thought.
Nelson was taking his time walking to the staffroom, being extra careful while carrying the precious cargo. I walked beside him making small talk, but my heart was beating in my throat and my face was hot for some reason.
As if I didn’t know what that reason was.
When we got to the staffroom I flurried through, with barely enough time to get my cup of coffee before going to the library. People were preoccupied with the pastries and I almost managed to slip out of the room unnoticed before Emily found me.
“Isabel, Mrs. Sheldon said you offered to show her and Sophia how to make lasagna for lunch today.”
“Emily! Yes, I can do all of that in my lunch hour, so it’s not a problem at all.”
“You’re cooking lunch too now?” she laughed. “What am I going to do with you? As long as you don’t mind.”
“I definitely don’t mind. This kitchen here is a dream. And cooking is one of my favorite things to do.”
“Well, I’m sure everybody would welcome a break from Mrs. Sheldon’s lunch menu.”
“So, I’ll see you later,” I said, desperate to make it to the library in time.
Another staff member called Emily. She patted me on the arm with a lovely smile. “Yes, I’ll see you and Henry later.”
I was a bit out of breath when I reached the library, but whether that had anything to do with walking fast was debatable. And I was barely settled on the second floor when the doors opened below and Roman sauntered in.
A blur of sensations swirled through me. He was so tall, so incredibly handsome, and again in a custom-made sweatshirt and sweatpants.
He stopped when he saw the handkerchief on top of one of the books, devastation coiling around him like a ribbon of fog. To my total dismay, he strolled past the handkerchief to the window and stared out like a moody lord of the land.
I took a sip of coffee from my cup and waited patiently.
Suddenly Roman swung around, gaze laser-focused on the handkerchief. He strolled over to it, then he smiled. I had brought the handkerchief from my underwear drawer in exchange for taking his, and placed it on the other book.
It took him long enough to figure that one out.
Roman picked up the handkerchief, put it to his nose, and inhaled me. I could hear him groan softly. I slapped my hand over my mouth to silence my gasp. He glanced up to the second floor and even if he couldn’t see me, I didn’t doubt for a second that he heard my breath hitch.
Our vivid imaginations went on the same flight, and no doubt crash-landed on that king-size bed in the penthouse.
A knock on the door ripped the floating dream away. Nelson entered with Roman’s coffee tray and the lovely mille-feulles on a dessert plate.
“Morning sir,” Nelson greeted Roman.
Roman immediately sat down at the oak table, and I had to curb a giggle because I could only imagine why.
“Morning,” Roman greeted Nelson, uncharacteristically flustered. “So, what delightful pastry do we have here today?”
Nelson placed the dessert plate with the pastry in front of Roman, giving a restaurant-worthy presentation. “This pastry is called a mille-feulles, which translates to a thousand layers, also known as a Napoleon here in America. Between the pastry leaves there is a cream custard filling. I’m curious as to what you think.”
Nelson poured coffee and cream into a cup, while Roman took the linen napkin and flowed it across his lap. “Well, let’s give it a taste then.”
Roman carefully cut a piece of the mille-feulles and placed it in his mouth. He closed his eyes to get the full flavor and texture, like I had to do when I took my first sip of 30-year Macallan.
Once he was finished eating the piece, Roman shifted upright and exchanged a glance with Nelson. “This is absolutely incredible,” he said.
I squirmed, a warm sensation flooding my insides. Oh, the food I could make this man.
Nelson issued a glowing smile. “It is a triumph, isn’t it?”
“Triumph may be selling it short,” Roman replied, cutting another piece. “We might have to look at the criteria for sainthood here.”
Nelson beamed as if he was offering my talents at a Sotheby’s auction. “Look at those razor-thin layers of puff pastry, not to mention this perfectly marbled glaze. It’s a very finicky pastry and almost impossible to perfect. And yet, here we are.”
“Then let’s hope my father’s reader doesn’t leave us any time soon, if ever. Do you know if she’s happy here, Nelson?”
“I believe she is, sir. And to be honest with you if I may, she’s brought a light to this house. At this point, it’s difficult to imagine the place without Isabel.”
I decided Nelson deserved another baker’s dozen of macaroons. He’d been nothing but my biggest ally. There were a few seconds of silence as Roman contemplated Nelson’s words.
“Funny how that works, isn’t it, Nelson?” Roman said quietly. “One minute life goes its usual way, and the next a stranger makes it into your world and you wonder how you ever existed without them.”
A slow-burning fire smoldered in my veins, and as chilly as it was in the library everything inside me was heating up.
If Nelson was confused or surprised by Roman’s musing, he didn’t show it. “Exactly, sir. Look how Isabel has touched you and you haven’t even met her yet.”
Once again I had to suppress a giggle. And I hated Roman for remaining deadpan, while I had the most difficult time controlling myself.
“Well then, if that is all…” Nelson said.
“Yes, Nelson. And thank you for keeping me in mind with these delicious pastries.”
“It’s my pleasure, sir. Enjoy.”
When the door closed behind Nelson, Roman smiled as he glanced up at the second floor. When he heard me giggle he laughed softly, the atmosphere charged.
“The most beautiful sound in the world, that laugh of yours,” he said gently.
I could think of nothing else but meeting him down at the oak table and slowly feeding him the mille-feulles while his hands molded into the curves of my hips, pulling me closer to him.
I stood up from the footstool I was sitting on, trying to rid myself of my consuming need for this man. But it didn’t help. At all.
I watched him sit back on the chair, napkin folded across his lap, giving the French pastry his full attention. Taking sips of coffee. When he was done, he elegantly dabbed at his mouth with the napkin and placed it back on the tray.
Then he stood up. I thought he was going to leave, but no, he wasn’t. He glanced at the second floor.
“Our time is almost over, but I want to ask you something, Isabel.”
I strolled to the glass railing, leaned on it, and looked down at him. “Yes, Roman?”
Our gazes met, a wordless exchange triggering yet another fiery tingle of need through me. The line that existed between me staying up here, listening to what he had to say, and me flying down the stairs and crawling into his arms was a fragile, flimsy one.
His gaze caressed me from head to toe, and he watched me closely as if assessing how much resentment I still harbored. “Do you hate me?” he asked.
“I hate what happened after our night,” I replied. “But I could never hate you, even if I tried. But it would be insane to just pick up where we left off, you have to know that.”
“I didn’t expect us to just pick up where we left off, Isabel. Not at all.”
“Not that I don’t want to,” I mumbled in all honesty. “God knows, that’s all I think about. But there are a few things that need clearing up first…”
“I know,” he said calmly. “We have a lot to talk about. And you have my promise that we will conduct ourselves properly during the clearing-up part.”
Here we go again. How did he do it, stay so in control? I had no business being so vulnerable in the presence of this man. “These damn promises of yours will be the end of me, Roman.”
He emitted a wry smile. “We’re right back in the Belmont hotel, aren’t we?”
“Battling to keep each other at bay? Yes, it feels familiar.”
“Albeit for different reasons this time,” he said gently. “More noble reasons, I hope.”
I swallowed my frustration and gazed back at Roman. “Although you seem to have it pretty much under control, as always, so my already tainted virtue is in safe hands I suppose.”
My effort at jest went over like a lead balloon. A provocative grin settled around Roman’s lips as he watched me with those intoxicating blue eyes, the vein throbbing in his temple. “You keep accusing me of all this control I’m supposed to have with you. But then why am I a hair”sbreadth away from pushing you up against that wall?”
I sucked in an audible breath, and it was impossible to stop the exasperated little moan from escaping my throat.
I wanted to inhale him, touch him, feel him inside me so much it ached.
Roman raked a frustrated hand through his hair, his face as earnest as I’ve ever seen it, his voice laced with regret. “I was wrong on so many counts that night at the Belmont, and I’m going to try to make up for it. It might take time, but that’s okay, because there are a few things that need to be figured out, and that includes answering questions I’m sure you have. These fifteen minutes in the morning were perhaps idealistic considering our history, but it was a way to find out if there was even a remote possibility that you might forgive me. That’s all.”
Once again Roman caught me off guard, revealing himself with such unbearable sincerity. A tantalizing warmth spiraled through me. “I can think of a few hours where you did everything perfectly right, Roman.”
His eyes bore into mine. “I had some first-class collaboration.”
I bit my lip, trying to weigh my priorities. What was more important, kissing him or getting answers to my questions? The latter was trailing far behind.
“Doesn’t this whole thing scare the hell out of you?” I asked, honestly bewildered. “Me ending up here at Belmont Manor. It’s so random and strange. And before I found out you were here, I thought it was my saving grace…from you. How do things like this even happen?”
Roman exhaled a chuckle. “If you thought you were surprised, imagine me. I thought I was going crazy in the library that day. I could smell your fragrance; it felt as if you were right there…and you were. Why didn’t you say something?”
“I was petrified.”
“Why petrified?”
“You were the guy who disappeared after a magical night without bothering to say goodbye. And who then sent that soulless viper in to deal with me like I was some late-night mistake you picked up at a bar. All the while my heart was breaking into a thousand pieces. You became this irresistible monster in my head, so the only impression I was left with was that I’d be fired if you found me here.”
Roman wiped a hand over his face as his gaze hooked onto mine, his voice raw with guilt.
“I left because in my ignorance I thought it was the best thing to do. It was selfish and reckless of me. I should have been there when you woke up. But I also knew that neither one of us would have wanted to leave then… And I didn’t send Steven. I’m still to blame because I should have known he might do that. It’s his job to micromanage my life outside of this house. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am that happened.”
Be still my beating heart.
“I can’t imagine Steven would be thrilled about finding me here.”
“He knows what he did was completely unacceptable. His safety concern for me is restricted to what I do outside of the estate. In this house, he has no authority, unless he’s told to get involved.”
I swallowed all the bitterness back, relief washing away my resentment. But as much as I wanted to throw myself at Roman, I still had questions. This was not a normal situation by any stretch. And for all his sudden transparency, Roman was still a total enigma.
“I’m sure you’ll understand my confusion but what’s happening?” I asked, sounding snippier than I wanted to. “Am I being upgraded from disposable to maybe-not-disposable-right-off-the-bat now?
A shadow of exasperation rippled across Roman’s features. “Isabel. You were never disposable. Again, I fucked up. You were a marvel that unexpectedly breezed into my life, and I was at a loss as to how to deal with it. My life situation is complicated but I’m working on it, and I will find a solution.”
Again zero elaboration, leaving me curious and even somewhat irritated.
“What’s so complicated, Roman?”
“It’s nothing to be concerned about until we know where this is going.”
“So we’re back at it being a fleeting distraction we have to throttle into submission before the complication has a chance to blossom in all its ugly glory.”
“I thought we’d established this wasn’t just a fleeting distraction.”
Weariness seemed to plague Roman and whatever burden he had to bear was probably harder than I could imagine. I felt terrible. “I really need to stop saying stupid shit.”
He hit back with a smile. “What fun would that be, honey badger?”
I leaned against the glass railing, anxious to ease this voracious need swelling between my thighs. “Have you reconsidered going back to being a bird of prey?”
His smile softened at the memory. “God no, why would I? I’d be perfectly happy being a maniacal force of destruction as long as I can share your den… I mean if that’s still on the table.”
Those words found their way inside me, and I could barely breathe. “How do you do this, Roman? Making all that pain just fade into oblivion.”
His long, elegant fingers lined the books up against the table’s edge. Carefully. Brittle with tension. Pensive darkness dissolved in his eyes, becoming something more like anguish when he looked up again. “Please don’t think for one second that this hasn’t caused me any misery. Just the idea of not seeing you again caused a kind of pain I didn’t know existed.”
In the time it took for me to process those words, Roman strolled to the door. “I need to get back to the office, and I’m sure you have to go too. Hopefully, I’ll see you here tomorrow morning. Enjoy your day, Isabel.”
A hollow ache quivered through me at seeing him go. There was a frozen beat before I blurted out. “Roman, wait.”