The thing with taking the high road, Robin discovered as the following week turned into another, was that it could be a lonely place. Really, really lonely. Thank heavens she had her family and her work to keep her mind occupied. Which she did. She played the role of a happy twenty-four-year-old to perfection and fooled everyone.
Except Otis.
The old gardener knew something wasn’t quite right with her.
“I guess you’re pining after that fancy Frenchman, right?” he asked exactly twelve days after Amersen had flown out of Austin. She hadn’t heard from him. She hadn’t expected to. But she knew he was back in Paris, back to work and back to his old life. She’d read the blog posts to prove it, including one headlined Single and Loving It! Okay, so perhaps that was not what the post she’d read two days earlier had actually been called, but she hadn’t missed the message in it.
And then there was the photo he’d posted on Instagram of himself with a tall, skinny redhead to drive the point home. A picture with some suggestive hashtag that she couldn’t bear to read more than a trillion times. A picture that spoke volumes. His arm was around this awful woman’s waist. And the redhead, with her pouting lips and slumberous eyes, was leaning close, looking like she’d just had some kind of marathon sex session. A look that Robin knew well, because less than two weeks earlier she’d been the one with the cat-who-got-the-cream expression. And it wasn’t the only picture she’d seen. The week before it had been a brunette with exotic green eyes and a flat chest and legs that went on forever. He was everything she’d first believed. A playboy. A man whore. A bed-hopping swine.
And it hurt. So much. So damned much.
Robin laughed at Otis’s words, dying inside. “That’s ridiculous. Now, we need to talk about the roses that—”
“I got eyes,” he said, his craggy face wrinkling. “They might not be good for much, but I still got them. And you haven’t been yourself for the past week. I’m figuring it’s got something to do with him leaving.”
Robin did her best to look hinged and happy. “You’re imagining things. I don’t get swept up in that kind of nonsense, you know that.”
His expression didn’t alter. “I know that since that Hammond boy busted you up inside, you haven’t been seeing things clearly. But the Frenchman seemed to make things right for you, in here,” Otis said and tapped his heart.
Robin stared at Otis, then laughed. “What...are you my love guru now?”
“Someone needs to look out for you,” he said solemnly. “Don’t you think?”
Although she was touched by his concern, Robin knew she had to change the subject. The last thing she wanted was anyone thinking she was harboring feelings for Amersen Beaudin. With any luck, she’d never see him again. At least she was well and truly out of her dating funk now, and she was grateful to him for that.
Thinking about anything else, imagining it was anything else, was simply stupid.
Sex without strings.
Admit it, girl...it was just a breath away from being a one-night stand.
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “And to prove it, I have a date tonight.”
So maybe calling it a date was a stretch. But she was going out with a few friends for dinner and a movie. Thankfully, it was enough to stop Otis from making any more humiliating observations. When she got home later that afternoon, she showered and dressed in jeans, a bright purple sweater, a scarf and coat, and then headed into town.
She knew she was early the moment she entered Lola May’s Homestyle Restaurant, because the place was empty and neither of her friends Mara and Janine was there. But she didn’t mind. She waved to the waitress and grabbed a table, sliding into the booth seat as she chucked off her scarf. Then she looked at the scarf and realized it wasn’t hers. It was Amersen’s. The one he’d draped around her the night they’d watched the movie in the park. She’d almost forgotten she still had it, and certainly she’d had no intention of wearing the damn thing. She fingered the soft wool, felt a sudden and acute sense of loss, and admitted she wasn’t fooling anyone by denying the truth of what was in her heart. Even though she knew she’d been right to end things.
“Robin!”
She turned at the excited squeal and saw Francesca Fortune standing beside the booth. Or was it Francesca Fortune Whitfield? She wasn’t sure. They weren’t exactly close friends, but they had shared a few study groups together at college and were friendly, at the very least. They’d meet up every few months for a quick coffee and catch up.
“Hey, Fran, how are things?”
“Good,” the other woman said and sat down with an invitation. Francesca was one of those people who had a bubbly energy around her. With blond curls and brown eyes, she was remarkably pretty and had a broad, infectious Texan twang, much like Robin’s own. “Just picking up some takeout. My gorgeous husband loves Lola May’s battered fries. Since Friday is our designated date night, we usually eat in, play Scrabble and just hang out together.”
It sounded like the perfect way to spend an evening with the person you cared about the most. Robin couldn’t help wondering if she’d ever find that kind of someone.
“Didn’t you used to work here?”
The other woman nodded. “Yep. Seems like an age ago now. How are things with you? Still working at Sterling’s Fortune?”
“Yes. Kate’s a great boss.”
Francesca’s mouth curled, and her eyes widened. “So, is it true that Kate Fortune and that Frenchman Amersen Beaudin are doing business together? I heard he was in town and at the ranch. Did you meet him?”
Robin’s stomach rolled. She wasn’t about to betray any confidences of either Kate’s or Amersen’s. As far as she knew, there had been no formal announcement of a business alliance between the two, and she had no intention of speculating. “I did. Although I wasn’t privy to their conversations.”
“Is he as hot as they say?”
She half shrugged. “He seems very nice.”
Francesca laughed. “You’re a terrible gossip, Robin—you’re like a vault. Which is a shame, because I know Keaton was hoping to speak with him while he was here.”
Robin frowned. “He was? Why?”
Francesca’s lovely face turned instantly serious. “Oh...it’s nothing. Just a business thing, I think. I don’t know the details. Anyway,” she said as she slid from the booth, “looks like my order is ready. Gotta run. Let’s make sure we catch up soon.”
Then she was gone, like a whirlwind. Robin remained in the booth, ordered a hot chocolate and drank it, only to be reminded that Amersen had bought her the same the night they’d watched the movie together. Between the scarf and the chocolate, she was suddenly overcome with such hopeless emotion she couldn’t stop the heat forming in her throat or the tears burning her eyes. And by the time Mara and Janine arrived, she was crying foolish, wasted tears.
It was Janine who asked the obvious question. “What’s going on, Robin?”
She looked up as they slid into the booth. “The worst thing imaginable. I’m in love,” she admitted, scratching at her eyes with a Kleenex.
“You are?” Mara said, clearly astonished. “Wow.”
Robin sucked in a breath, blew her nose and felt her resolve return. “Yes. And as usual, I’ve fallen for the wrong guy.”
Janine patted her hand. “What do you mean? Did he cheat on you like Trey?”
Robin shook her head. “No...worse. He was honest about everything. He didn’t cheat. He didn’t lie. He didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep.”
Mara didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “Um...Robin, that kind of makes him sound perfect.”
“Exactly,” she said and sniffed into the tissue. “He’s the most perfectly wrong man I have ever met. And I hate him for making me fall in love with him.”
Her friends nodded consolingly, as though they understood exactly what she meant.
“So, what are you going to do?” Mara asked.
“Eat chocolate and pretend he doesn’t exist,” she said, meaning every word, but knowing she had as much chance of forgetting about Amersen Beaudin as she did of going to the moon.
Both were out of the question.
* * *
“Is there something going on you would like to talk about?”
Amersen looked up from his desk. At one o’clock on Friday afternoon, the only people who would come into his office uninvited were the nightclub manager, Trudi, his closest friend, Fabien, and his mother. In this instance, it was his mother, Suzette.
“Not now, Maman. I am busy.”
She ignored him, as he knew she would, came into the room and sat in the chair opposite his desk. “Yes, now.”
Amersen sighed, pushed the laptop aside a fraction and looked toward his mother. “Okay, what?”
“You have been back for two weeks and have said very little. I’m concerned.”
He ignored the twitch in his gut. He didn’t want to have a heart-to-heart with his mother about Texas, the Fortunes or anything else. “I told you about Kate’s offer. There’s little else to tell.”
“And...the other thing?”
Resistance crept up his spine. He knew what she was asking. Knew she had her concerns about opening a door to secrets that had been hidden for twenty-five years. “Maman, I did not go to Texas to look for my past. It was business.”
“Just a coincidence, then?” she inquired “That you go to the same city that is home to your—”
“Those people mean nothing to me,” he said quickly. “I didn’t speak to them. Or meet them.”
“Perhaps you should have.”
Amersen stared at her. “Not a good idea.”
“I’m not talking about...Gerald,” she said, faltering a little over his name. “But Graham and Ben and Kieran and—”
“They mean nothing to me,” he said again, cutting through her words as she began rattling off the names of his biological half siblings. “My family is here. You and Papa and Claire. And frankly, I’m sure they have as many reservations about meeting as I do.”
She shrugged lightly. “Perhaps, but remember that they contacted you first... That makes their feelings plain enough, don’t you think?”
“Keaton Whitfield contacted me first,” he reminded her coolly. “And he is another of Gerald Robinson’s...mistakes.”
Suzette sat back in her seat and stared at him, her gaze softening as the seconds ticked by. “You know, I have never considered you to be a mistake. When I found out I was pregnant, I could only think that you were a blessing. And I still do.”
Guilt pitched between his shoulder blades. “Maman, I didn’t mean to—”
“I did love him,” she said, her eyes glittering. “Very much. And I truly believed he cared for me. And despite how things ended between me and Gerald, you were conceived in love. Gerald’s behavior, once I found out I was pregnant, had nothing to do with you—it was about his own obligations and responsibilities. He was married...something I knew when we began our affair. Children are always the innocents in these things, and the Robinson children are just as blameless as you.”
Amersen’s instinctive resentment kicked in. “I think they use the name Fortune now,” he said evenly.
“That’s their prerogative, I suppose. Gerald was Jerome Fortune before he became the man I knew. And blood...blood is hard to deny. They were lovely children—chances are they have grown into good people. People who, despite your reluctance to admit it, are your family. And a family that might be worth knowing.”
Amersen didn’t agree. “You’re my mother. Luc Beaudin is my father. Claire is my sister. That’s all the family I need. Or want.”
“Until you get married and have children of your own, yes?”
He shrugged uncomfortably. “Maybe. One day.”
Her mouth curled. “Something you want to tell me?”
“Not a thing,” he replied, eager to end the conversation.
His mother clearly wasn’t ready to let it go. “You were out of orbit for a whole week—no phone calls, no Instagram, no provocative blog posts. You might want everyone to believe that you were in Texas to see Kate Fortune, but I know you, Amersen...you never fly that low under the radar. Secret business deal or not. If your low profile wasn’t about running into your half siblings, then it was something else. And I’m guessing,” she said with a grin, “that it has something to do with a girl.”
Amersen jumped to his feet as though he had hot coals in his shoes. Robin. He was tired of thinking about her. Tired of dreaming about her. Tired of comparing every woman he met to her. He was uncharacteristically confused and didn’t understand why he had a knot of rage constantly churning in his gut at the mere idea that she’d brushed him off so easily. He should have been relieved. He should have returned home and gotten back to his life and dated whomever he wanted to and slept with someone else to get the memory of her out of his system. But he didn’t. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t interested in casual dating. And he was even less inclined to have casual sex.
Because he only wanted Robin.
Getting to know her, spending time with her, kissing her, making love with her. It had all seemed disturbingly surreal. And yet, somehow, the most real thing he’d ever experienced.
C’est juste du sexe...
It’s just sex.
It couldn’t be more. He didn’t do more. He didn’t make promises. He didn’t break hearts. He didn’t leave a trail of destruction in his wake.
I am not my father...
The acknowledgment exploded in his head like a nuclear bomb.
“Amersen?”
His mother’s voice brought him back to earth. “I’m fine, Maman.”
She still didn’t look convinced. “You’re a grown man, and I never tell you how to live your life—even if I sometimes don’t approve of your casual approach to things. I’m not going to tell you how to feel about Gerald or your half siblings—or anything else,” she added pointedly. “That being said, if you left unfinished business back in Austin, maybe you need to return and either sign on the dotted line or break the deal once and for all.”
Later, once his mother had left and Amersen thought about her words. Rife with platitudes, certainly—but she had a point. He wasn’t done with Austin. He wasn’t done with the Fortunes. And he wasn’t done with Robin.
Which meant one thing—he was heading back to Texas.
* * *
One Saturday a month, her parents requested that all of the children spend the morning together for a big family breakfast. Robin knew her brothers thought the idea cheesy, but if they were in town, they always complied. It made their mom happy, and if Veronica was happy, Cliff was happy, too. Because when it came right down to it, family was everything.
As rituals went, the Harbin Sunday breakfast was one she’d easily do for the rest of her life. And since it was only a week and a half until Christmas, the family time was acutely special. They had eggs and fried ham, cheese toast and pancakes, freshly squeezed juice and an endless supply of strong coffee. The kitchen was always busy and filled with laughter.
“So,” Evan said hesitantly as they set the table with their mother’s best china. “Did you hear that Trey got engaged?”
Robin stared at her brother, cutlery in her hands, waiting for pain or rage or despair to settle in her belly and then grip her heart. But...nothing. Zippo. Not a single, solitary feeling. She was, she realized, completely over Trey Hammond.
“How nice for him,” she said and laughed heartily. “And awful for her.”
Evan looked surprised. “So...you’re not upset? You’re really okay with it?”
She made a face. “Yes. I just feel a dose of good old-fashioned relief that it’s not me.”
“That’s our girl,” Cliff said and grinned. “Gumption by the bucket load.”
Robin smiled toward her father. “Thanks, Dad. I love you, too.”
“She’s getting a prenup,” Reece said, grinning. “Or so I heard.”
“Smart girl,” Robin said and finished with the cutlery. “Speaking of weddings, isn’t it time one or both of you got married? Mom and Dad will be wanting grandchildren at some point.”
“Count me out for a while,” Reece said and grimaced. “One marriage, one divorce. I’m not interested in trying again. At least not for a while.” He jabbed a thumb in the direction of Evan. “And no woman in her right mind would put up with Casanova over there. Looks like it’s up to you, sis.”
Robin laughed loudly. “Please. I can think of plenty of things I’d rather do than get married and have a couple of kids.”
Liar...
She pushed the wayward thought aside. She was too young to have a biological clock. And too sensible to waste time dreaming about marriage and babies. One day...but not yet. First, she had to find some sweet, eligible man to sweep her off her feet and make her fall madly in love with him.
“There’s nothing more rewarding than raising a family,” their mother said from behind the counter. “As long as you do it with the right person.”
“Oh, no,” Evan said and rolled his eyes. “We’re going to hear the story about how you and Dad met again, aren’t we?”
“It’s a good story,” Cliff said and winked at his wife. “Very romantic.”
“No, please, I beg you,” Evan said in mock horror. “Don’t say it.”
There was an unexpected knock on the front door and Reece quickly moved to answer it so he didn’t have to hear the story of their parents’ first date and the ensuing first kiss. When he returned a minute or so later, Evan was still pleading with Cliff not to say anything more. Robin looked around and saw Reece hovering in the doorway.
“Uh...Robin...it’s for you.”
She swiveled on her heels just as Reece moved into the room, and then she swayed back in stunned disbelief.
Amersen!
Her stomach did a stupid, love-starved roll at the mere sight of him. Black trousers, white shirt open at the collar, a black wool jacket that fit him so well she knew it was hand tailored...he looked like he’d stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. She glanced down at her baggy gray sweatshirt, purple leggings and moccasins and realized how scruffy and unkempt she must look. Well, too bad...it wasn’t like she’d been expecting company.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
He remained in the doorway and scanned the room. From the corner of her eye, she could see Evan had moved a little closer and her mother had come around the counter. Her father remained seated at the table, and Reece was still hovering close by.
His gaze was blisteringly intense. “I came to see you.” He looked toward her mother. “But I see I am interrupting. My apologies, Monsieur and Madame Harbin. I shall come back another time and—”
“There’s no need for that,” her father said and waved an inviting hand. “Come and sit down, son. Any friend of our daughter’s is welcome in our home.”
He’s not my friend.
She wanted to shout the words at the top of her lungs.
“If you are sure?” he asked politely.
“Of course,” her mother said. “You’re very welcome.”
And suddenly, it was all settled, and now Amersen was sitting opposite her at her parents’ kitchen table. No notice. Not a phone call or a text message. She hadn’t heard from the man in two weeks and he’d been prowling all over Paris, sleeping with every woman he met, but now he was having breakfast with her family as though it was the most normal thing in the world. She’d liked it better when they’d all hated him. Because it was clear that her mother no longer considered him unsuitable and he was back to being all exotic and French and adorable. Even Evan was being civilized, and Reece didn’t appear to have an opinion one way or another. But Robin did. She was so mad she was seething inside.
And he knew it.
His blue eyes were glittering, cool and seductive, as though he could read every thought in her head. She could have strangled him. Or at the very least, done some serious damage to his nether regions. Who did he think he was? His arrogance was astounding. How dare he come into her home and seduce everyone with his voice and charm and too-damn-sexy-for-words haircut?
“Are you okay, ma chérie?”
His question silenced all other conversation.
She could barely look at him, particularly since she knew her family were all waiting for her response. When she did look up, she glared. “Ma chérie?” she echoed incredulously, heat burning her skin as it crawled up her neck. “How dare you call me that.”
“Robin, if I have—”
“Who the hell is she, Amersen?” she demanded as she stood and pushed her chair back, tossing her napkin on her plate, ignoring the stunned faces of everyone at the table. “Who’s the goddamned redhead?”
Before he could reply, she was away from the table, through the doorway and out of the room. She grabbed a Mexican blanket from the hook by the door and wrapped it over her shoulders as she left the house and kept walking until she was outside and striding toward the corral, heaving in great big breaths, trying desperately not to cry. It wasn’t long before she heard the screen door open and close and saw him striding toward her. She raced into the barn and waited, knowing he would follow. When he found her, he stopped a few feet away, hands on hips, feet apart, his eyes bluer than she’d ever seen.
“You need a coat,” she said. He’d taken it off inside and hadn’t bother putting it back on. She didn’t want him catching pneumonia on her conscience. “Idiot.”
“Do I get the chance to defend myself?”
“You can’t defend the indefensible,” she shot back and decided she didn’t care if he did catch pneumonia. “Big stupid jerk.”
His mouth curled at the edges. “So...the redhead? Care to explain that comment?”
Robin scowled, then fished her cell phone out of her pocket and within seconds found the incriminating photograph. “That redhead!” she spat and held the phone in front of his face. “Looks like you two had quite the night.”
He glanced at the picture and then waved a dismissive hand. “I did not sleep with that woman...if that’s what you’re implying.”
“I’m not implying anything,” she retorted, fueled by adrenaline and hurt and humiliation. “I’m stating a fact...she’s got that look on her face.”
“What look?”
Robin wanted to slug him for being so obtuse. “The I’ve-been-screwing-Amersen-Beaudin-all-night look. I know that look... I’ve seen it in the mirror.”
He took a moment and then laughed. “You’re...jalouse? Jealous?”
Her humiliation increased tenfold. “I am not.”
“Oh, yes, you are,” he said, still chuckling. “You are green with it. But it is misplaced, Robin. I do not even know who she is.”
“Charming!”
“I mean,” he said and took a step closer, “that I cannot recall that photo. It could have been taken some time ago. But it certainly hasn’t been taken in the last two weeks.”
“How can you be so sure?” she demanded.
“Because this,” he said as he stepped toward her and curled a hand around her nape, “this is the closest I have been to another human being in the last agonizing two weeks.”
Robin’s legs weakened. Oh, he talked a good game. And she wanted to believe him. So much. “But the picture...”
“Forget the picture,” he insisted and moved closer. “And tell me why you are jealous.”
She melted. “I’m not.”
“Shall I tell you why?” he asked, dropping his head a fraction, his intent clear. “It is because you and I...we are not done. You know this. I know this.”
He kissed her, and she was lost. Robin clung to him, taking the firm yet soft exploration of his tongue in her mouth as he deepened the kiss. He was so wonderfully familiar. If she’d had any doubts that she had serious feelings for him, they quickly disappeared.
We are not done...
What did that mean?
“You’re confusing me,” she muttered against his mouth. “Why are you here?”
“I couldn’t stay away,” he admitted, kissing her again. “Have you missed me?”
“Like a hole in the head,” she replied as she took a breath. “God, my family must think I am off my rocker.”
“Who is the bigger fool?” he murmured, nuzzling her neck. “The fool who runs, or the fool who follows, hmm?”
“I wish you would go away. I was just starting to forget you.”
He pulled back and grasped her chin, raising her eyes to his. “Truly?”
“Truly,” she lied. “And don’t think just because you’re back and looking all sexy that we are simply going to pick up where we left off. First, you haven’t really explained what you are doing back in Austin, and second, I’m not sure I want to spend any more time with you.”
“Of course you do,” he said with so much self-assured arrogance she could only gape at him. “Have dinner with me tonight.”
“I can’t just drop everything and—”
“Or better still,” he said, cutting her off, “spend the day with me. There is still much of Austin that I haven’t seen. And I wish to get to know this city of yours a little better. And you.”
He wanted to spend time with her. With her. She desperately wanted to refuse him. But she was also so deliriously happy to be with him. Like a love-struck fool. Sure, she might end up with a broken heart. But in that moment, the reward outweighed the risk.
“I’ll think about it,” she said and wrapped the blanket around them both. “First, I have to go back to the house and explain to my family why I behaved like such a fool before.”
“Simply blame me for everything,” he said and chuckled.
“Oh, I intend to,” she said before she dragged his head toward hers and kissed him like crazy.