The Pawn (Shattered Series Book 1) (23 page)

        He stiffened. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about----”

        “And if you just came here to insult and degrade me, get the hell out,” she said plainly, turning for the door. “I don’t have the time, energy, or patience for---”

        As his hand closed around hers, she nearly faltered. “Wait,” Jarrod uttered shamefully. “I’m sorry. I’ve been itching for a fight for days, and as always, I tend to take my grievances out on you. But, I’ll completely understand if you tell my ass to hit the damn door. Believe me, I know that I can be a jackass at times, and I’ve especially been one in these last minutes.”

        When she said nothing, he sighed tiredly. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’ll go.”

        “No,” she said, tightening her hold on his hand. “Come and sit down. Please, I insist.” Then, pushing him towards the living area, she released his hand and went about removing the dirty smock.

        “Are you sure?”

        She blew a breath. “Now, I can see where Meghan gets her poutiness from,” she muttered with an affectionate laugh. “Like father, like daughter, I see.”

        Facing him again, she lost her breath and words.

       
An unguarded Jarrod Sabatino in the flesh…

        He regarded her with an unspeakable hunger.

        One that spoke its own language…

        Was it true, she mulled, heart racing.

        Was he as drunk with her as she was him?

        And did he really miss her while he was away?

        A dangerous look flared in his green orbs and with a careful slowness, they slid over her body, from head to toe. The naked heat spread throughout her, and the chemistry was so palpable between them, she pondered who’d break first.

        “I take it that you’re enjoying the place, then,” he whispered, breaking the spell first, and looked away from her. He gave a half-smile. “I knew that it’d suit you well, you and this place were destined.”

       
Like us
, she thought silently, blushing.

        But instead, she said, “I’ll get us some coffee. How do you take yours?”

        Already, he was taking a seat on the loveseat. “Straight black,” he said, yanking the necktie off completely and tossed it aside. Then, he settled against the cushions with a deep sigh. “No cream or sugar.”

        After igniting the glass flames, she placed the kettle on the stove. Moving to the cupboard, she fished out two matching white cups. In hers, she put a healthy dose of sugar and cream.

        “I can see that you’re aiming to be the spokesperson for a diabetes campaign with all that sugar you’re heaping in your cup,” he scolded. “You put in at least six spoonfuls, not counting the cream.”

        “You drink your coffee your way, and I’ll drink mine my way,” she said testily, turning as the kettle began a steady whistle, and lifted it from the stove. With perfect precision, she poured the boiling water into both cups and then proceeded to cross the room. After reaching him, she passed his cup to him before settling on the loveseat beside him. “Now, tell me how your business trip went.”

        “Let’s just say that it happened,” he admitted with another tired sigh, cradling the cup in his hand. “The fact that I’m dealing with some nefarious creatures doesn’t help matters.”

        “That bad, huh?” she mulled thoughtfully. “Doesn’t sound like the kind of people to do business with.”

        “Trust me, I learned that about them the hard way,” he said truthfully, staring in the coffee cup. “And I’ve been paying one helluva price since then. I’m making it a point to drive them out of business.” The bitterness laced his tone. “Those bastards won’t have one red penny left to spend once I’m done with them.”

        “Ouch, remind me not to get on your bad side,” she teased, but then sobered at his serious look. She laid a comforting hand on his. “Listen, I don’t know anything about business. But, anytime that you want to vent, I’m here, okay?”

        He gave her a long look. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

        “Why wouldn’t I?” she asked, puzzled, sipping her coffee, and watched him over the cup’s rim.

        “There aren’t too many people that interested in what I have to say,” he shrugged, turning away, and pulled free from her innocent hold to her disappointment. “So, I’m surprised when someone does.”

        “I’m in your corner, Jarrod. Always have been, always will be,” she said softly, placing the cup on the table, and settled against the pillows. “Being CEO of a major international corporation can’t be easy.”

        “It sure in the hell isn’t,” he admitted easily. “In the imports and exports world, handling international trade deals can be somewhat tricky and dangerous.”

        “I suppose so,” she nodded in concentration. “Although I’ve worked closely with you and typed up reports, I still don’t have an understanding of what it entails.”

        “And I don’t want to bore you with the mundane details either,” he chided, watching her closely. “Enough about me. Show me these paintings that you’ve been working on for weeks. I’m sure that they’re pure masterpieces.”

        She flushed a hot red. “U-uh, they’re not ready yet and are still in the preliminary stages. I have some finishing touches left,” she stammered uncomfortably. “When they’re ready, you’ll be the first to see them.”

        How could she ever admit that the name of her collection was
Falling for You
with him being the subject? That she’d captured his stolen moments in time, both guarded and unguarded---the pure essence of Jarrod Sabatino…

        Blushing further, she avoided his keen gaze.

        Jarrod regarded her thoughtfully. “It’s okay, Olivia. I know that it’s been a long time since you’ve painted and that you’re worried about the quality of your work. But, if they’re anything like before, they’re damned good.” He sighed. “I’m not going to push you. When you’re ready to share your work, just let me know.”

        As his gaze settled on her, she warmed under his deep perusal.

        For certain, she loved the way he looked at her.

        The seconds passed, and still, he said nothing.

        “What is it?” she asked, breaking the silence.

        “Nothing,” he shrugged, watching her as he leaned against the cushions. Then, reaching out, he caressed the side of her face with a finger. “Can’t it just be that, Olivia, and nothing more?”

        She flushed again. “O-oh, okay.”

        As his eyes ran over, she trembled.

        “You’re cold,” Jarrod said matter-of-factly, already shrugging out of his jacket. Before she could protest, he was covering her with it. At once, the smell of his cologne enveloped her and she inhaled a fast whiff.

        Had she made it to paradise, she thought, shivering in response.

        “Come here,” he said huskily, pulling her closer, and adjusted the jacket snuggly around her. “You’re shaking all over. Do we need to start a fire?”

       “No,” she said shyly, laying her head against his shoulder, and to her relief, he didn’t pull away. 

        With a deep sigh, closing her eyes, she snuggled against him, allowing herself to relax against his warm body. For the longest, they sat there that way, and moments later, she heard a soft snore at her ear. Being careful not to awaken him, she pulled back, and for the longest moments, she just watched him.

        “My poor baby,” she whispered, laying a soft hand against his cheek. “Just rest.”

         Lifting his strong arm, she draped it around her before snuggling against his chest. As she did, he murmured something in his sleep and nestled closer to her.

       She closed her eyes tight.

       
Finally, he was in her arms where he was supposed to be…

***

       "Care for one more cup of tea, Livvy?” Meghan asked, a few days later, holding the teacup in her tiny hands, giving her best impression of a regal individual. “I have plenty.”

          “Uh, darling, no,” Olivia said primly, shaking her head, playing along. “I’ve had more than enough, thank you, Miss Meghan.”

           And she had, she thought silently, sitting cross-legged on the floor in Meghan’s bedroom, surrounded by the brightly dressed dolls at the tiny play tea table. After her fifth cup of colored water, she’d had more than enough.

           She smiled to herself.

           This was her home---her life.

          
They were her family.

            Her thoughts strayed.

            But, since the few nights ago at the bungalow, Jarrod kept his distance from her. When they’d awakened in each other’s arms, neither of them had been sure of how to react. So, they’d disentangled themselves in mutual silence, and he’d departed.

        Still, the very feel of him being against her lingered, she thought, blushing. Every part of him was etched deeply in her soul. And while she was eager, maybe it was a good thing that they weren’t rushing things, she surmised, frowning in concentration. Maybe then, he’d accept that their feelings were real.

        But, still, they were at square one.

        She’d accepted the truth, though.

        She loved him now more than ever.

        A part of her realized that she always had, even if her mind was a blank slate where her past was concerned.

        Forcing a smile, she turned her attention away from the startling thought.

        “Very well,” Meghan said in her childlike voice, and she was more than precious as she was dressed in her father’s over-sized shirt complete with a string of costume pearls. “We’ll have the main curse, then.”

          “
Main course
,” she stressed, tapping the girl’s chin playfully as she sat down across from her. “And what are you offering today, dear Meghan? Caviar, salmon, torte---”

          “Chocolate chips, silly! I don’t know about any of that stuff that grown ups make,” the little girl giggled. “Livvy, you are so funny.”

         “And so are you,” she laughed, taking a huge bite after grabbing a cookie from the plate. “Ummm…these are delicious.”

        Meghan gave her a beaming smile. “I knew that you’d like them!”

        “What do you think? Haven’t we gotten to know one another pretty well?”

         “And I like you this much!” Meghan squealed, spreading her arms wide. “More than the size of this big room.”

         “I like you that much, too,” she said, blinking back tears, taken aback by how much she really did love her. She wiggled her finger playfully. “Only one thing, kiddo. We can only have one cookie---or maybe, two. You know your father’s rule about having too many sweets.”

         “Yeah, Daddy’s probably gonna get you for giving me this one,” Meghan nodded, biting into her second cookie. “This time,
you’re
gonna be in big trouble.”

         She laughed. “I guess so.”

         “Daddy’s happy again,” the little girl said, grabbing a doll off the floor. “He’s been happy since you’ve been here.”

         The surprise filled her. “Really? What makes you say that?”

         “When I see him, he’s smiling more.”

         “I’m sure that it has more to do with you than it does me,” she stated firmly. “He loves you more than anything, I’m sure.”

         “Oh, I know Daddy loves me. He tells me all the time, and he gives the best hugs in the world. Anything that I want, he lets me have it. Well, except for a lot of candy,” the girl said thoughtfully, her eyes rounded. “He said that too much will make me have cavities, and I don’t want any cavities. The kids at school---they say it hurts when you have a cavity.”

         “And that’s why we’re stopping at two of these,” she suggested, taking the third cookie away from her. “If I let you have another one, I’m really going to get it.”

         Disappointed, Meghan sighed. “Alright, I won’t eat another one.” The little girl stared at her. “Daddy says that you’re getting over being really sick. What’s wrong with you?”

         She hesitated. “I was in a really bad accident, and it was so bad that I’m having trouble remembering things.”

         “Can’t remember? Like what?” Meghan asked innocently. “What can’t you remember, Livvy?”

         “That’s not important,” she said, not wanting to burden the child with the unwelcomed truth. “What’s important that I’m here now, and I’m here with you and your daddy.”

         “And Daddy’s glad you’re here, too, just like me,” Meghan said, staring at her hard. “I want you to be with my Daddy.”

         Her face flamed red. “W-well, Meghan, I think that---”

         “When you’re not looking, Daddy’s always staring at you,” Meghan whispered, leaning close to the table. “Don’t tell him, or he might get barrassed.”

         “Embarrassed,” she corrected her, flushing herself.