Roarke had gotten up early and retreated to his office to prepare an amicus brief for the Texas Supreme Court on behalf of a small nonprofit organization he represented.
The organization was filing a civil suit against a company that had defrauded them. However, another agency’s criminal case against the organization had gone all the way to the state supreme court. So the nonprofit had been invited to file a friend-of-the-court brief to provide the deciding judges with a more sweeping view of the issue before them.
A sudden smile broke across his face as he remembered that Annabel was still lying in his bed naked, her hair wrapped in a colorful silk scarf.
For the past week, Annabel had spent most nights in his bed. Waking up to her sweet face and lush curves was a luxury he’d come to treasure.
They’d spent their evenings cooking together or watching television. Sometimes they worked together in companionable silence in his office. It was a life he could easily imagine settling into.
But they’d spent the past week actively avoiding the talk they both knew they needed to have.
What would happen when his stay in Houston came to an end?
It was something, it seemed, that neither of them wanted to consider.
Roarke’s thoughts were interrupted by an email alert from Mason Harrison. It shouldn’t have surprised him that an arrogant bastard like Mason Harrison would wait until the very last day to reply to their demand that he repay Annabel and her family in full for everything they’d lost in the planning of their wedding.
Roarke had expected to hear from the man’s lawyer, requesting to negotiate the amount. Instead, the reply came directly from Mason. He agreed to compensate Annabel for the full amount under one condition. That he got to make his apology to her in person.
Roarke rubbed his whiskered chin. He didn’t like it. Why wouldn’t a man as savvy as Mason hire a lawyer? Why wouldn’t he negotiate the terms? And what was with the personal apology?
Roarke minimized the email. He’d discuss it with Annabel when she awoke.
He returned to writing the amicus brief, thankful that the past week had been relatively calm. There hadn’t been any new bombshells regarding the dropped fraud charges against his father or the still-open investigation of Vincent Hamm’s murder. But rather than being encouraged by it, Roarke felt sure it was the eye of the storm. They were being lulled into a false sense of calm.
Perhaps by design.
The sound of the shower running pulled him from his thoughts. Since that morning in the shower together, it was the vision that played over and over again in his mind whenever he heard the water running. For a moment, he contemplated joining her.
His cell phone rang and he answered. “Good morning, Dad,” Roarke greeted his father. Thankfully, they’d come to an agreement that he’d stop running his yap to reporters and practice the simple art of stating No comment or Please refer all questions to my lawyers.
So far, so good. Maybe there was hope for Sterling Perry after all.
“Good morning, son.” Sterling sounded hesitant. He cleared his throat. “I’m calling you with a proposal.”
“What kind of proposal?” Roarke sat back in his chair.
Sterling cleared his throat again. Another sign that there was something suspicious about his father’s request, whatever it might be.
“You know that we’re opening a chapter of the Texas Cattleman’s Club here in Houston?”
“Yes. What of it?”
“I have a twofold request. First, I’d like you to join the club. I’ll sponsor your membership, of course.”
“Why would you do that? Besides, I live in Dallas. If I was going to join the club, why wouldn’t I join there?”
“Because of the second part of the proposal. Now, just hear me out before you go turning it down.”
Roarke dragged a hand through his hair and nodded. “Okay. Let’s hear the rest.”
“As part of the club’s outreach to the community, I’d like to start a legal fund for those who can’t afford representation. But rather than hiring random lawyers who may or may not be very good, we would use the fund to pay an annual salary of a single lawyer. You.”
“You want me to become some sort of outreach lawyer at the club?” The proposal didn’t sound like anything his father might have thought of. So where was the request coming from? “Besides, I thought the new president of the club hadn’t been named. I doubt that Ryder Currin would go along with such a plan, should he be named president.”
“Actually, this is a plan that we’ve both agreed to, regardless of which one of us becomes president.”
“You talked to Ryder about this?”
“Indirectly.” His father was being squirrelly with his answers.
The water in the shower stopped running, drawing his attention to the source of the sound. Suddenly, his father’s odd venture into humanitarianism made sense.
“Let me guess, you had a talk with his daughter Annabel. She’s the brainchild behind this plan to what...bring me back to Houston?”
Sterling didn’t answer right away. “It’s what you enjoy doing, Roarke. Does it matter where you practice law as long as you get to help the people who need it? I assure you, there are just as many clients in need of your services here as there are in Dallas. Perhaps more.”
“It matters if the three of you are conspiring behind my back to make it happen. Not a single one of you thought that maybe you should ask if I have any interest in returning to Houston?”
“Annabel certainly seems convinced,” Sterling said. “And for the record, son, I like her. Seems to me that a man would be pretty damn lucky to have a woman go to this kind of trouble on his behalf.”
“You don’t get it, do you, Dad? No one wants to be manipulated. Not even if the person doing it has the purest intentions.”
“Roarke—”
“I don’t need your charity, Sterling. If I ever choose to return to Houston, it’ll be on my own terms. Not because the three of you thought it would be fun to play puppet master.”
“Then there’s another option I’d urge you to consider, son. I’d like you to rethink coming to work for Perry Holdings. I know the company has taken a hit. But the fraud charges have been dropped and we’ve been working the PR angle. It’s only a matter of time before the company’s valuation rises again.”
“We’ve been through this before, Dad. I’m not interested in working for Perry Holdings. Not as long as you treat rules and ethics as an inconvenient suggestion.”
“I thought after the talk we had at the ranch that you and I would get a fresh start.”
“I want that, too. But that doesn’t change the fact that we have diametrically opposed business philosophies.”
“If you believe that things should be cleaned up at Perry Holdings, who better to do it than a man with high character and a vested interest in this family’s legacy?”
Roarke didn’t respond. Was Sterling actually offering him carte blanche to ensure everything at the company was aboveboard?
He rubbed at the tension building in his temple. “I have to go, Dad. We’ll talk later.”
He ended the call. Roarke’s pulse raced and the band of tension tightened around his head, as if it were trapped in a vise.
It was time that he and Annabel talk.
* * *
Annabel knocked lightly on the partially closed door to Roarke’s office. She’d spent most evenings at his condo over the past week. Yet, she tried to be respectful of his privacy, especially when he was working.
There was no answer.
She tapped lightly again. She didn’t want to disturb Roarke in the event that he was dictating notes to his assistant, Marietta, back in Dallas.
“Come in.” Roarke’s voice was strained. Nothing like the playful, sexy tone with which he greeted her most mornings.
Annabel approached Roarke with a tentative smile, hoping that there hadn’t been more bad news in the pending murder case or in one of his client’s cases.
She slid onto his lap, as she often did, and pressed a kiss to his mouth.
He allowed her to kiss him, but he didn’t kiss her back. Nor did he wrap his arms around her the way he usually did.
Something is very wrong.
“I need to put my attorney–client hat on. So if you wouldn’t mind?” He motioned for her to take the guest chair on the other side of the desk.
She complied, smoothing her skirt. “Okay, what’s this about? Did Mason finally reply to our letter?”
“He did. Surprisingly, he’s agreed to compensate you for all monies lost. Including the wedding dress.” Roarke moved his mouse, presumably opening Mason’s email.
“That is surprising, but that’s good news, isn’t it?” They should be celebrating, preferably in bed. Or the shower. Or the sofa. Or...
“It is good news. I’m just reluctant to take Harrison’s offer at face value. Especially since he’s making it contingent upon providing you with a full apology in person.”
“Why doesn’t he just pick up the phone? Or email? Send a text even? I don’t need to see him.”
Roarke was slow to respond. “Are you afraid that if you do see him... Do you still have feelings for him, Annabel?”
“I do. But none that I can articulate without filling an entire cuss jar.” She shifted in her chair and tugged her hair over one shoulder. “When and where does he want to meet?”
“He didn’t indicate either in his email. So don’t be surprised if he contacts you directly to work out a time and place. If you’re uncomfortable negotiating the terms—”
“No, I’m not.” She shrugged. “He’s a jerk, but he’s not dangerous.” She sat forward. “You seem stressed. Bad news on one of your other cases?”
“No.” His brows furrowed in an expression that looked very much like disappointment. “But I did get some disturbing news this morning.”
“What’s wrong? Is your family okay?” Now she was worried, too.
“I spoke with my father this morning. It seems he and Ryder have decided that the Houston chapter of the Texas Cattleman’s Club should have an ongoing outreach program to provide legal aid.” He watched her carefully.
“That’s sounds like a terrific program. And it’s an excellent fit for you, Roarke.” Annabel smiled tentatively. He didn’t seem excited or even surprised by the news from his father. Instead, he regarded her suspiciously.
“It is, Annabel. Almost as if it was tailor-made for me.” He rubbed his chin as he assessed her. His glare had the effect of hot lights in an interrogation room. She could only imagine how intimidating he must be in the courtroom.
“So what if it was tailored for you, Roarke?” Annabel asked, her eyes searching his. “It’s still a much-needed program here in Houston. And can you think of a better person to run it?”
“Except I already have my own practice doing just that in Dallas.” Roarke’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes were the color of a stormy sea. He stood, his hands pressed to the desk as he leaned forward. “So what would possibly give my father or yours the idea that I’m interested in trading my practice in Dallas for one here?”
His words hit her with the impact of a two-ton wrecking ball.
Annabel’s eyes stung with tears and a knot tightened in her belly. The first time Roarke had really kissed her, she felt a shock of electricity and a fluttering in her chest. She’d known, in that instant, how deeply she’d been attracted to him. That she didn’t just want some casual fling with him.
She’d been falling for Roarke little by little, since their first encounter. The night they’d made love for the first time, she thought he felt the same.
But as he assessed her now with his chilly stare, none of the affection she’d been so sure he felt for her was evident.
“You’ve obviously already determined that this was my idea. I just thought that with everything that’s happened between us and with your family...” Annabel’s courage withered beneath Roarke’s unyielding glare. She blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, her gaze not meeting his.
“You didn’t even bother to ask me, Annabel. Instead, you went behind my back and talked to your father and mine. You know my history with Sterling. That he’s been trying to manipulate me my entire life.” Roarke’s voice was strained.
“It’s not like your father came up with a plan to make you do something you don’t want to do, Roarke.”
“No, he didn’t. You did.” He pointed an accusatory finger in her direction. “You actually managed to flip the script on Sterling. Got him to do your bidding. If I wasn’t so pissed right now, I might actually be impressed.”
Annabel’s cheeks burned beneath his stare, a mixture of anger and disappointment. She’d realized she was taking a risk with this plan. But she hoped Roarke would see it as proof of just how much he meant to her.
“I’m sorry. I obviously misread the situation.”
“Look, Annabel, I’ve been honest with you from the beginning about all of the obstacles we faced. I thought you’d accepted that.”
“You’re right. You were adamant that we should never have gotten involved. I’m the one who pursued you. And I’m the one who made the mistake of thinking that maybe you had reason to come home.” Her voice quivered slightly.
“Dallas is my home, Annabel.” He narrowed his gaze at her. “And I’ve never made you believe otherwise.”
A fresh round of tears stung her eyes. “But that isn’t the problem, is it? You’re afraid.”
“And what is it you think I’m afraid of?” He tipped his chin.
“This. Us. You’re afraid of how you feel. That this could be something real and worth making sacrifices for.”
“You shouldn’t have gone to my father behind my back. All you had to do was roll over in bed and ask me what I wanted.”
“I’ve tried. You always change the subject.” Her eyes stung and her throat felt dry and tight. “I guess that was my answer all along. I just didn’t expect to fall in love with you.”
Annabel stood, drawing in a shaky breath. “And for the record, I’m scared, too. But I’d rather take a risk than miss out on something incredible because I was too afraid to try. Wouldn’t you?”
She stared at him through watery eyes.
“I can’t do this right now.” He shifted his gaze from hers and returned to his chair. “I only have forty-eight hours to put together an important court brief. I can’t afford any distractions. Happy or otherwise.”
He’d used the phrase she’d uttered the night they had drove out to Galveston. When she’d said that meeting him had been a happy distraction.
That night seemed like a lifetime ago.
“So then nothing has changed for you? That’s all we are? Just a distraction from everything else going on in our lives?” She swallowed back tears and the hurt pride that squeezed her chest. “Well, don’t let me distract you any further.”
Annabel slipped out of Roarke’s office and gathered her things, leaving his spare key on the counter. She got on the elevator and made her way down to the garage.
She’d told Roarke she was in love with him and he hadn’t even acknowledged her words.
Her heart ached and hot tears ran down her cheeks. But it was better to find out now that she’d been wrong about Roarke.
He could never love her the way she already loved him.