Amersen picked up his cell phone at least half a dozen times the following morning before he summoned the courage to call Robin and apologize for his appalling behavior the night before. He’d asked her to leave, and she had. Without hysterics or recriminations or complaint. And he felt like the biggest heel of all time, because he knew he’d hurt her. He didn’t have to see the wounded look in her eyes as she’d dressed. He’d used her to get all thoughts of the Fortunes out of his mind—and it felt wrong.
She answered on the third ring. “Hello, Amersen.”
The fact she recognized his number made him feel worse. She knew him. Because somehow, in a matter of weeks, that was what they had become. An item. A couple. A relationship. The idea rocked him through to the very blood in his bones. He remembered what his mother had advised before he’d returned to Texas, some platitude about signing on or breaking it off. The truth was, he didn’t know what to do. The thought of not seeing Robin again caused a physical ache in his chest. But if they continued as they were—disaster. He wasn’t stupid; he knew what he saw in her eyes when they were together. And he...he had so many conflicting feelings churning through his head and his heart, he didn’t know what the hell to do.
“I’m sorry about last night.”
She sucked in a short breath. “Okay.”
“I was...angry,” he explained, an inexplicable heat burning his eyes. “Not with you. With myself. With the whole...situation.”
“I understand.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Of course.”
“Can I make it up to you?”
“Sure.”
Her staccato responses unnerved him, and he hated that she could do that. He didn’t feel anything like his usual self when he was around Robin. His overconfidence had often been described as arrogance and cockiness, and he’d never bothered to waste time altering those opinions. It was good for business, and in the past, business was all that mattered. But not anymore. Robin had an uncanny ability to strip down his defenses.
“Shall I pick you up so we can spend the rest of the day together?”
“I’m working. But perhaps we could meet later.” She hesitated for a moment and then asked a question. “How long are you staying in town?”
“I’m not sure,” he said and then realized she would be looking for assurances. “Perhaps a few days. It is Christmas soon and I need to get home to my...to everything there.”
“Okay,” she said after a moment. “I’ll come to the hotel after lunch. I need to pick up my things that I left there. Give me a couple of hours.”
When she hung up, Amersen felt uneasy and couldn’t define why. She hadn’t sounded right. Not angry, which was what he’d expected. Not confused, which he’d figured she was probably feeling. But agreeable. Too agreeable. Which meant one thing. She was ending it.
Good. It saved him the bother. She could come to his hotel, collect her things, maybe they’d spend the night together in one final goodbye. They could have hot, mind-blowing sex, and then they would be done. If that was what she wanted, he’d accommodate her.
It was after twelve when he was alerted by the concierge that she was on her way up. And barely a couple of minutes later he heard a sharp tap on the door. He pulled the door back, and as soon as he saw her, every ounce of blood in his veins heated. She wore jeans, a soft purple sweater, a scarf, boots and a jacket, and her beautiful hair was loose. His heart skipped a crazy beat. And then every thought he had about ending things with her disappeared. He didn’t want to end things. He wanted to start things. He wanted to haul her into his arms and kiss her beautiful mouth and do it every day for the rest of his life.
“What took you so long?” he said, dying to drag her to bed for the rest of the day. “Come in.”
She hesitated, her gaze shifting to the right. Amersen peered around the door and froze.
“Hello, Amersen.”
Olivia Fortune Mendoza was at his door. He immediately glared at Robin, seeing assurance in her expression as rage percolated quickly in his gut and then churned throughout his entire body.
“What is this?” he demanded.
Robin squared her shoulders and walked past him, inviting the other woman into the suite.
By the time he was in the lounge area, both women were seated on the sofa. Robin looked pensive. Olivia looked nervous. And Amersen was so angry he could barely get his legs to move.
“I called Olivia and asked her to come here because I thought the two of you should talk.”
It was Robin’s voice, but he hardly heard it above the rage gathering momentum and screeching through his ears every time he took a breath. “You did.” He scratched the words out and knew he sounded like he was chewing sandpaper. “Did you?”
She looked at him, her blue eyes unwavering. “You need closure. You need to sort this out.”
Annoyance and resentment settled in his blood. “I don’t think it’s anyone’s position to tell me what I need.”
“I think you’re wrong,” she said quietly, unmoving. “I think sometimes, when someone is hurting, it’s up to the people who care about that person the most to make sure they do right by them. And that’s what I’m doing.”
“What you’re doing,” he seethed, not daring to look at Olivia, his rage all directed toward Robin, “is interfering in my life. And assuming that you have the right. Which you do not.”
“But I thought—”
“You thought wrong,” he said harshly. “I wouldn’t accept this kind of interference from even my closest friends, let alone someone I hardly know.”
As soon as he said the words, he saw her recoil. But he was pissed off and couldn’t control his words at that point.
He looked toward Olivia. “My apologies, Mrs. Fortune Mendoza, for your wasted trip. I’m sure Robin will see you out.”
He strode off and headed for the bedroom, slamming the door to make the point that the conversation was over. When he was ready to face any of his half siblings, it would be his decision. And he’d make sure Robin understood she wasn’t to interfere in his life. He heard the suite door open and close and took a couple of puffs of his inhaler before he stalked back out into the main room. He was stunned to see that Robin was no longer there. But Olivia Fortune Robinson—now Mendoza—was sitting exactly where she had been when he left the room, knees crossed, hands in her lap.
She looked up and raised both brows. “Have you finished sulking?”
He stilled instantly. “Where is—”
“She left,” Olivia supplied, head at a tilt. “Not that I blame her. You really are as stubborn and pigheaded as we’ve all come to believe.”
It was a pretty mild insult, and he’d had far worse over the years, but it still irritated the hell out of him. “We?”
She waved an impatient hand. “Oh, come on. We both know that Keaton and Ben have tried to contact you and that you have ignored every request. And you’ve been back and forth to Austin twice in the last few weeks and still didn’t make contact with any of us. Shame on you.”
Shame on him? He almost laughed out loud. “I hardly think that it is my—”
“Are you so self-absorbed that you think you are the only one suffering here?” she demanded, sitting upright on the sofa. “Do you have any idea how it feels to discover that there’s a dossier on the results of your father’s indiscretions? And to discover that the father you’ve believed in all your life is someone else entirely? Someone who has children with other women, someone who is now painted as some kind of ogre?”
He rocked back a little on his feet. She had a valid point. He’d never spared much consideration to the feelings of Gerald Robinson’s children. His jaw suddenly felt like it was carved from granite. “I guess I don’t.”
“Some of us don’t want to play the victim card, Amersen,” she said pointedly. “Some of us are willing to try to work through this. He made mistakes—big ones—but who hasn’t made mistakes in their life?”
Amersen ignored the tightness in his chest. He’d never considered himself to be a victim. And he didn’t like the label one bit. “He ignored my existence for twenty-five years. He ignores me still. That’s not a mistake. That’s a choice.”
Her mouth thinned. “God, you’re so much like him—so arrogant and self-important.”
He didn’t ever want to be compared to the other man, and was about to tell her so, when Olivia spoke again.
“He didn’t know about you,” she said and sighed heavily. “Look, I wasn’t going to bring this up because it’s obviously something you need to sort out with your mother...but all I know is that she told my father that she’d ended her pregnancy, and as far as he knew, that was the truth.”
“He paid her off,” Amersen said quietly, refusing anyone to lay any blame at Suzette’s feet. His mother had told him the truth—Gerald never wanted the child she carried. Never wanted him. Suzette made the choice to have Amersen on her own, and he was grateful for that decision. He was also thankful that Luc Beaudin had entered her life. “And he was relieved when he believed she had taken care of things.”
Olivia shrugged. “I guess it was a difficult time for them both. All I’m saying is that he didn’t ignore you...he didn’t know about you. It was my mother who knew,” she explained, and he could see how much the truth hurt her. “She knew about the dossier and kept the information to herself. She knew about you and Keaton and Chloe and the others that are in it. It’s not a pretty story, okay? My mother has played her own part in this situation and she, along with the rest of us, have to live with that. And yes, our father has known about you for a while now and hasn’t made contact, but can you blame him? He knows he’s not going to get a good reception from you—is he? It’s not like you have this great reputation for being all warm and fuzzy.”
“I don’t think my reputation should matter,” he said tightly.
“Of course it does,” she said and waved an impatient hand. “We all know who you are. What you are. That you have this opinionated and cynical skew on life. I’ve read your blog and your bio, Amersen. You’re not perfect. And he’s not perfect, either. But he’s trying to make amends in his own way with Keaton and Chloe. If you give him a chance, he’d probably try to do the same with you.”
“Probably?”
She sighed. “Like I said, he’s not perfect.”
Amersen’s head reeled. Everything Olivia had just told him about Gerald and Charlotte made the whole sordid mess somehow less sordid. And then, without warning, part of the weight that had been pressing down on his shoulders since he’d first discovered he was Gerald Robinson’s son slowly lifted.
For months, he’d made a point of denying any biological link to the other man. In his core, he believed that Gerald was a dishonest, womanizing cheat who betrayed everyone he got close to—and Amersen never wanted to be that kind of man. So, the farther he withdrew, the less chance he had of ever being compared to the one man he had grown to hate above all others. Even before he knew of his biological father’s identity, he knew enough about the quality of man he was—married and unable to remain faithful. A consummate liar. A man who promised everything and delivered nothing. A man who left a trail of emotional destruction in his wake. That was why Amersen never let himself feel anything other than desire in his relationships and why they were brief and ended before he was in too deep. No investment—no possibility of leaving that same trail of destruction and pain. Absolute proof that he was nothing like the man who had given him life. And the knowledge that no one would be hurt. Including him. Especially him.
The realization made him laugh to himself. For so long he had kept people at a distance. He had success and wealth and fame and everything he’d ever dreamed of. Except the one thing that really mattered...complete and utter emotional surrender to another human being.
Until Robin.
“You look like you’ve just had some kind of revelation,” Olivia said quietly, and he saw that she was smiling.
It occurred to Amersen that he liked her. His sister. His blood. “I think I just did.”
Her mouth twisted slightly. “Well, maybe it’s not me you should be admitting that to?”
He let out a long and weary breath. “She left me.”
“Because you were a stupid jerk,” Olivia said and smiled. “You know, don’t be offended when I say this—but you really are a lot like him. You’re both driven and innovative, and you both clearly attract women like flies to honey. But,” she said when he went to protest, “that doesn’t mean you have to be him. All I’m saying is, learn from his mistakes. You know, when Robin called the vineyard this morning and asked me to come here to speak with you, she knew you would be angry. But she did it anyway. That should tell you all you need to know.”
“She shouldn’t have—”
“People do stupid things when they’re in love,” Olivia said and laughed. “Just ask my husband.”
“Robin doesn’t—”
Olivia waved her hands, cutting him off. “You know, for a smart guy, you’re pretty stupid.”
Amersen had taken all the insults he was prepared to take from his half sister. “She’s not in love with me.”
Just saying the words hurt him through to his bones.
“Of course she is,” Olivia said quickly. “Otherwise, she wouldn’t have called me. What did she have to lose? Only everything,” Olivia said, answering her own question. “If that’s not love, I don’t know what is. And you’re in love with her...only you’re too stubborn and proud to admit it.”
His head reeled.
“I’m not in love with her.”
“Sure you are,” Olivia said and laughed. “Now go and tell her that.”
Amersen’s feet felt as though they were stuck in cement. He didn’t want to admit anything his sister was saying to him was the truth—that he was stubborn, that he was foolish, that he was anything like Gerald Robinson...or that he was in love with Robin.
But denying it would have been the biggest lie of his life.
“I will tell her,” he said and grabbed his keys. “But there’s something I have to do first.”
It was time he faced his father.
* * *
Robin believed she knew what a broken heart felt like. But nothing had prepared her for this.
Not even an hour spent with Butterfly could soothe the ache in her soul that reached right down to her bones.
Someone I hardly know...
That was what he’d reduced their relationship to. Nothing. She hurt so much she was all out of tears. Everything had turned out exactly as she’d suspected it would from the beginning. The coldness in Amersen’s expression spoke volumes. The man had ice in his veins. He didn’t deserve any tears or her broken heart.
“Mom called.”
She turned her head and spotted Evan standing by the doorway. “And you raced over here?”
He shrugged. “She said you broke up with the Frenchman.”
“Would you stop calling him that?” she snapped and tossed some hay into Butterfly’s stall. “And to be broken up, we would have had to be together...which we weren’t,” she added pointedly.
Evan grinned. “Yeah, right. The guy means nothing to you.”
“That’s not what I said,” she said hotly. “However, whatever we had, it’s over.”
Evan came a little closer. “Mom said he’s Gerald Robinson’s son...is she right? One of the secret Fortunes?”
Robin nodded fractionally. Even though she’d decided she would hate Amersen until the end of time, talking about his private business felt like a betrayal. “I shouldn’t have told Mom,” Robin said and sighed. “We all know she can’t keep a secret.”
“But I can,” Evan promised and looked solemn. “I’m a lawyer—lots of practice. So, what happened?”
Robin figured there was little point in keeping it to herself and gave her brother an abridged version of events over the last couple of days—leaving out the part about how she’d slept with Amersen and he’d told her to leave—and then how he’d dismissed her so cruelly in front of Olivia Mendoza.
“Well, you can’t blame the guy for being a bit messed up,” Evan said when she finished.
Her gaze narrowed. “You’re taking his side?”
“I’m on your side,” he assured her. “But it would be a hell of a shock to come face-to-face with a secret sibling, particularly in a public place while you’re on a romantic date. And you did kind of interfere by inviting her to his hotel.”
Trust Evan to be the voice of reason. “You sound like a lawyer. I was trying to help. When you care about someone, that’s what you do.”
“You’re not thinking about this the way a guy would.”
Robin stared at her brother. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He sighed. “It’s like you getting mad at me and Reece because we didn’t tell you about Trey cheating. We genuinely didn’t tell you because we didn’t want to hurt you. But you think we kept it from you because we wanted to control you or something when we just wanted to protect our sister. And you made Amersen confront something that he probably wasn’t ready to because you’re a woman and you don’t have a problem facing your feelings. But guys...not all of us are comfortable doing that. It’s in our DNA to not want to talk about how we feel. It makes us uncomfortable and vulnerable. That’s probably how he felt when you forced his hand. And when he got mad, you were hurt, and there’s the cycle all over again.”
Robin rocked back on her heels. “Is that really how men feel?”
“Yep. Most of the men I know, anyway.”
“You poor things,” she said drily. “I guess I have a lot to learn.”
“Stand in line,” he said and laughed softly.
Robin met his gaze and her throat constricted. Sometimes Evan was a jerk, but sometimes he was the best brother in the world. “Thanks. I needed a pep talk today.”
He hauled her into his arms and gave her a bear hug. “And for the record, I’m sorry Reece and I didn’t tell you about Trey. I promise that it was only because we didn’t want to see you get hurt. Can you forgive us?”
“Of course,” she said and sighed.
“And don’t be so hard on yourself. Or your Frenchman. I mean, if you love the guy...”
“Right now I hate him,” she said and sniffed as hot tears plumped at the corners of her eyes.
Evan laughed and hugged her close. “Same thing, sis...same thing.”
* * *
The Robinson estate was big and intimidating. Typical of a family home when the family in question wanted for nothing. The gardens were decorated with festive lights and Amersen figured he’d find much of the same inside. He arrived at the front security gate, gave his name and was admitted instantly. He waited in his car for a few moments before he got out of the car, headed up the pathway, tapped on the front door and waited. Foolish, he supposed, to simply turn up unannounced. Particularly since he might run into Charlotte. The last thing he wanted was to cause anyone any distress. But he had to do this before he lost his nerve.
The door opened and a tall, solid-looking man who clearly took care of himself stood at the threshold. He had gray hair and dark eyes that were riveting and impossible to shake.
My father.
“Hello, I’m—”
“I know who you are,” Gerald Robinson said and stepped back. “I heard you give your name to the housekeeper.”
A thousand emotions raced through Amersen’s entire body. He wasn’t sure how to feel. Angry. Resentful. Edgy. He’d imagined the moment countless times and had prepared himself to be filled with enough rage to start a war. But what he truly felt was an all-consuming sense of relief.
And then the older man held out his hand. Amersen wavered for a moment, unsure, feeling about sixteen years old...imagining he was that boy again, the one who demanded to know who he was and then saw the pain in his mother’s eyes when he learned the truth. A pain that this man—this sperm donor—was responsible for. So he waited for the familiar rage to manifest itself. But it didn’t come. And then, without really knowing how, he reached out and shook Gerald Robinson’s hand.
“Come inside,” Gerald said when Amersen pulled his hand free. “We should talk.”
The home was as impressive inside as out. As expected, it was decorated within an inch of its life with Christmas elements, which reminded him of Robin’s little house—and then the thought of her sent his stomach plummeting.
Once they were seated in the large living room, Gerald spoke again.
“It took a lot of guts for you to come here.”
Amersen didn’t flinch. “I figured one of us had to be the first to face the other.”
Gerald nodded. “You’re right. It’s been a long time coming. I suppose you have a lot of questions.”
Amersen’s chest constricted, and he forced air into his lungs. Not now. He took a second and thought of wide-open spaces. He thought of water. He thought of air. And he thought of Robin. And then his lungs were free. Thank you, ma chérie.
He took a breath and looked at Gerald. “I have one question. Why do you cheat on your wife?”
To his credit, the other man didn’t shrink back from his query. “Because for better or worse, women have always been my biggest weakness. And I find them hard to resist.”
“Every woman you meet?” he shot back, unflinching.
“That is a slight exaggeration,” Gerald replied. “But I can see why you might think that...considering.”
“Considering I’m sitting here, you mean.”
Gerald’s mouth twisted in a brief half smile. “You have your mother’s eyes.”
Amersen tried not to let the mention of Suzette’s name change the tempo of the conversation. He didn’t want to start a fight. He didn’t want to hear stories about twenty-five-year-old broken promises. But he did want the truth.
“I know what transpired between you and my mother when she worked for you. It’s not a road I wish to go down with you. But I would like to know this—you have been aware of my existence for some time. Why have you not made contact?”
Gerald met his gaze, took a long breath and sat back in the chair. “I didn’t think you needed me to. You appear to be in control of your life... I didn’t want to interfere with that.”
It was quite the admission, but Amersen wasn’t quite ready to let the other man off the hook. “How could you interfere? I don’t know you.”
Gerald looked at him. “You know me, Amersen. You know me when you look in the mirror. You knew me when you made your first million. You knew me when you bought that vineyard and planned to produce the best wine in the region. You knew me when you decided to come to Austin to talk with Kate Fortune. You know me every time you have an idea or plan some risky business transaction.” He leaned forward. “Because I’m in your blood.”
Amersen stared at him, and as he did, the resistance and rage he’d been harboring for months suddenly faded. Not completely, but enough for him to really see the man who sat in front of him.
Flawed. Earnest. Scared.
Everything that he was, too. And he knew, in that moment, that he had a choice. He could be a coward and tell Gerald Robinson to go straight to hell and forget the man existed. Or he could accept who and what he was. Luc Beaudin would always be his father. But perhaps, with time and patience and compromise, this man could be something, too. He wasn’t sure what...perhaps a mentor or friend. But he was willing to at least leave a window of opportunity open. He was man enough to admit that he could. And that he wanted to.
“I’m tired of being resentful toward you,” he admitted.
“Good,” Gerald said flatly. “Resentment is a wasted emotion. And it’s certainly wasted on me.”
Amersen nodded. “I have good parents. A solid family. I’m not looking for another. I don’t want anything from you, either,” he stated, laying it out. “I don’t want or need your money, your name or your success.”
“I know that,” Gerald said and nodded. “You have that all on your own. Despite how it might seem, I’m actually very proud of you.”
Amersen made a self-deriding sound. His father was proud of him? Ironic, since he wasn’t particularly proud of himself right now. “I’ve tried really hard to not be like you.”
“And how’s that working out for you?”
“It’s not,” he admitted and then said a brief goodbye to the older man.”
“Will I see you again?”
Amersen shrugged lightly. “Maybe.”
Gerald nodded. “Thank you. That’s more than I expected. Maybe more than I deserve.”
Amersen left the room and insisted on seeing himself out. He was out the front door and three steps down the pathway when he met another man coming in the other direction.
Ben Fortune Robinson.
His brother.
It took about two seconds for the other man to recognize him and another few seconds to realize he was shaking Ben’s hand.
“About time you showed up,” Ben said and grinned. “Olivia called me, she said you were coming to see the old man, so I thought I would drop by for some moral support.”
Amersen’s back straightened. “For me, or him?”
“For whoever needed it,” Ben replied. “Did you get the answers you wanted?”
“Some,” he admitted.
“Well, that’s a start, I guess. The thing is, he hurts people without trying...you might say it’s in his nature.”
“That doesn’t let him off the hook.”
“No,” Ben said agreeably. “But when you really think about things, I guess most of us are guilty of hurting the people or person we love most at some point...don’t you think?”
Amersen scowled. “Your point?”
“The Harbin girl,” Ben said matter-of-factly. “Olivia said you screwed up big-time.”
Amersen actually laughed. “Privacy is clearly not a big thing in your family.”
“Your family, too,” Ben reminded him. “So, you screwed up. Not the first time. Won’t be the last. The question is, what are you going to do about it? Are you going to be a fool and let her slip through your fingers?”
“I hadn’t planned on it.”
“Then what did you plan?” Ben asked. “Is she a fling? Or is she the marrying kind?”
Marriage...
Amersen’s already knotted stomach was doing backflips. “Ah...yes...that kind.”
Ben offered a broad grin. “Then take some advice—go and get a ring and do the right thing.”
Amersen laughed loudly. If someone had told him a couple of weeks earlier that he would be standing outside his biological father’s house having a civil conversation about engagement rings with his half brother, he would have dismissed the notion entirely.
But by five o’clock he was driving toward Robin’s home with a ring in his pocket.
And hope in his heart.