“That’s not why I shared it. I want total honesty with you.”
An elegant black brow arched. “I’m listening.”
“The first time we met was no accident. I came to your store to talk to one of the Holland women. My uncle sent me here after reading about the legend of the spring.”
“The tourist attraction?”
He shot her a knowing look. “That spring is more than just a tourist attraction. People believe in it. It made a cut over my eye better, freshened up my—”
“Herbs,” she said, confusing the hell out of him.
“Pardon?”
A small smile flitted over her lips. “Later.”
“Anyway, I was able to get samples of it the night you took me there, and had them sent to my uncle’s Helsinki labs. He was the one who called while we were, ah, otherwise occupied at the time.”
“You mean seducing the most gullible woman in existence and leaving when you’d had enough?”
Had enough? There was no such thing when it came to Rose. He’d never get enough of her. “Not gullible, incredibly sweet. Caring. The brief time we spent together was the absolute best I’d had in a long time.”
“Well, I am a Holland, and we aim to please the men around here.”
“Dammit, Rose, stop putting yourself down.” He banged the back of his head against the headboard.
“Is your uncle a scientist?”
He blinked at her change in subject or rather redirection. Women were entirely baffling and would most likely remain so until he was decrepit. “Do you ever watch the telly?”
She lifted a dainty shoulder. “Unlike some people, I don’t have time.”
Meaning people like him. People who did nothing but play and use others for personal gain. “He’s a very powerful businessman, a bully, actually. Long story short: the samples were no good. The people that work for him know there’s another spring. One that feeds the tourist attraction.”
Rose’s expression barely changed, but her fingers began to rub at her cross. “Why does it matter?”
“An international water bottling company is interested in your land. They want Holland Springs to be the location of their North American headquarters. And they want to put a plant here.” Glancing at the picture of his mother and uncle, he clenched his teeth. He’d been told not to play the hero. Hell, he’d never wanted to be the hero. Not until a woman with infrequent smiles and beautiful eyes had entered his life. “If I don’t find the source and get samples sent off in time, my uncle will move my mum to a place that’s a guaranteed death sentence.”
Her eyes widened. “How can he?”
“Vladimir can do any damn thing he wants. He’s the executor of my father’s estate and makes all of the medical decisions for my mother until I’m thirty. Less than two years away, but it seems like eternity.”
Understanding dawned on her face, and he wanted to kiss her. She let go of the cross pendant. “This isn’t the first time he’s done this, is it?”
So great was his relief that he could barely get out the words, “It’s been my life for the past nine years. He started using me when I was nineteen.”
“Oh my God,” she gasped, “That’s why you were in the Johnsons’ cucumber field.”
“The only reason he had the living hell beat out of me is because he can’t actually allow my mother to die. Who’d be his minion then? But she’s a little stronger now, more stable.” Self-loathing shot through his veins, corroding them with its poison. As always he was trading someone else’s life for his mother’s.
“Your uncle’s flat out evil,” she said.
So was he, if only by association. Rose had to know the full extent of his sordid past. “At first, I didn’t mind doing things for my uncle,” he said, not bothering to spin it and paint himself as a victim. Only women like his mother and Rose were victims of his uncle’s schemes. “Well, to be honest… I rather liked it. The attention I received from him. The illusion of control and power. All for starting a rumor or hacking into personal email accounts to dig up dirt. Or finding incriminating pictures—you wouldn’t believe what people store on their computers. It was as if I had replaced the son he didn’t want with the one who’d do anything for him.”
Rose made a little noise. “By loving you with conditions. That’s not love. It’s manipulation, plain and simple.”
She said it with such conviction that he wondered at it, but he had to get everything out. He couldn’t stop it. He didn’t want to.
“Eventually, I wised up and started saying no. Then Vladimir began playing Russian Roulette with my mother’s health. The first time he put her at Childer’s, they didn’t check on her for days and she got an infection that nearly killed her. Sometimes, I think he’s toying with me for his sadistic pleasure. Only when she’s too weak for even the people he buys off to move does he take it out on me.” He turned the phone over and over in his hand. “I hate him, but I hate myself even more.” Face heating and stomach roiling, he looked away. “If you only knew the things I’ve done, the lives I’ve ruined—”
“Don’t,” she said, placing her hand on his chest.
Grabbing her hand, he pressed it tightly against his skin and made himself look at her. “I swear to you…I swear on my father’s grave I didn’t set out to seduce or use you. I tried to keep my distance, but I—you’ve, for lack of a better word, bewitched me, and I fell under your spell. Willingly.” He gave her the barest hint of a wicked grin before he sobered. “Ivy as well. With the exception of my mother, the two of you are the last people on this planet I want to hurt.”
When she said nothing, he let go of her hand and it fell away. Cold air rushed over his chest. He chucked his phone on the nightstand. There was no going back now. Any minute Rose would storm out of here in completely righteous indignation. Perhaps even kick him out before she got to the door. But he deserved it. He deserved every last drop of her vengeance.
Suddenly, Rose threw back the covers and got out of bed. He watched in disbelief as she grabbed a shirt from the wardrobe and hastily put it on. Not until she finished rolling up the sleeves did she look at him and say in an exasperated tone, “Aren’t you coming with me?”
“What?” She wasn’t kicking him out?
Her spine straightened and she seemed to grow taller as she smiled. “I’m going to help you keep your mom safe.”
“How?” he croaked. Jesus, he sounded like a right git.
“I’m going to rescue you and your mom,” she said slowly, as if speaking to a small child who was refusing to listen.
“But isn’t this the part where you kick me out?”
“No, I—”
“Curse me with impotence?”
One side of her perfect lips lifted at the corner, her gaze sliding over his body and arousing him to madness. Tempting him to jump out of bed, only to get right back in it with her.
“Why should I deprive myself?” she asked in her soft drawl, and the fine hair on the back of his neck rose.
He gulped. “Why are you helping me?”
Laying one hand against her chest, her fingers began to toy with a button. “Because your momma needs it. You need it, too.” Her head dipped. When she lifted it, a wealth of emotion filled her eyes. “I know what it’s like to have the people who should be looking out for you leave you to fend for yourself. Or worse.”
Her words were entirely meaningful and kind. And extremely Rose. But his humiliation couldn’t have been more glaring in his mind. “Don’t pity me, sweetheart, I chose this life. Never forget that. Never forget that I am a very bad man.”
“Who does very nice things to try to make up for it. A very bad man wouldn’t bother.” She let her arm fall to the side.
“Don’t afflict me with qualities I can’t possibly survive.” He raised his knee and rested his arm on it, looking around the room. The idea of someone helping him was foreign. It was almost too much, but like any other drowning man, he would grab on tight and never let go. “When everything is said and done, I’ll have to leave. But I’ll come back to…Holland Springs if you want me to.” Ask me, he silently commanded. Ask me to stay with you and we’ll…He mentally shook his head. They would do nothing, because his mother would never be safe. It would be damned unfair to ask her to wait two years for him. Like a valiant soldier going off to war. As if he’d ever had that noble of a purpose. Hell, his entire life was purposeless.
Until now.
Rose swallowed, her body alternately flashing hot and cold. “I understand, but come back here because you want to, not because you feel like you have to,” she said as her heart broke into a thousand pieces and her soul screamed no. She wanted him to stay with her. Forever. However, for them and every Poppy Holland before her, the third time was not going to be the charm. It never was, according to her mother. Not since Marcus Summersby had a man stuck around for a Holland woman.
This time it wasn’t because of her reputation or wanting to keep up good town appearances like her deadbeat father. It was all because a vindictive, evil man threatened Sasha’s mother. And would keep threatening her until she either died or Sasha turned thirty. There was no way she could leave a helpless woman to that fate, not if it meant Phoebe remaining where she was for a few months longer.
A few months more bearable for the man Rose loved. A man that she’d never tell, because she was afraid it would destroy her. As if to say those words out loud gave them power.
“I do, but—”
“Get some clothes on and I’ll grab the baby monitor.” She didn’t want to hear his reasons for why he couldn’t or wouldn’t come back.
“No.”
She shot him a confused look.
“We don’t have to go right this instance.” He rose from the bed, all graceful masculine lines as he walked across the room. In a matter of seconds, he was standing in front of her. Slowly and very deliberately, he unbuttoned her shirt as he stared into her eyes.
“Has this ever been something you’ve done before?” Another button slid out of its constraints and her breath hitched.
He gave her a wicked smile, his knuckles brushing her skin. Goose bumps rose and her nipples tightened. “I might have undressed a woman a time or two before.”
She wanted to laugh, but she just couldn’t. “You know what I meant.”
His eyes grew serious. “I make it a priority to never get intimately involved.” His large hands cupped her shoulders, sliding the rich material over them. He dropped a kiss on the side of her neck, then ran his hands down the curves of her body.
A small hum of pleasure began to vibrate through her formerly sated body. Reaching out, she ran her fingers over his muscular chest, through the light sifting of hair and over his pierced nipples. Leaning forward, she licked one and smiled against his skin as his body lightly convulsed. She looked up and her heart tripled its beat.
A predator’s smile covered his face. “I mean to have you again.”
“The spring,” she said and nipped his chin.
His hand found the small of her back and pressed her closer, his hard body flush against hers. Her knees dissolved like sugar in hot tea. “Later, Rosebud,” he said and claimed her mouth.
Drowsy and content (and much, much later), Rose found herself tangled up with Sasha. His legs entwined with hers, his fingers in her hair as he pressed kiss after kiss to her upturned face. Silly kisses, hot open-mouthed kisses down her throat and soft, sweet kisses pressed to her lips that stole her breath away.
“You’re making me wet,” she scolded and tucked her nose into his throat.
He laughed, a deep rumbling sound that made his chest vibrate. “A permanent condition when you’re around me.”
“Hopeless man.” She closed her eyes, feeling safer and more secure than she had in years. There was something about lying in bed with him that made her feel cherished and protected. Sasha’s personality was larger than life and at times, one she believed could help fight all of her battles.
Blackbeard meowed and jumped on the bed.
“Watch it,” Sasha growled.
Rose opened her eyes in time to see her kitty knead his claws into Sasha chest.
Sasha tried to shove the cat off of him. “I’m not a bloody scratching post.”
“Maybe he thinks you smell like catnip.” She giggled as Blackbeard deigned to flop on his side, flicking his tail so that the tip smacked Sasha in the mouth.
“Beastly little bugger.” The cat purred as Sasha stroked him, a rueful smile on his face. “Sell any cat protection charms in your store? Hell, I’d settle for a protection charm of any kind.”
The cross at her throat slid to her collarbone, the metal hot against her skin. She had to get it off. She had… Quickly sitting up, she reached for the clasp on the necklace she wore.
Sasha laid a hand on her arm. “I was only teasing, love. Blackbeard can scratch me up as much as he likes.”
A brief moment later she held the chain in front of her, the gold cross throwing a shadow across the bed covers. She turned to him, unsure of what to say.
“What are you about?” He sat up, sending Blackbeard to the end of the bed.
Her neck felt strangely light without it. She began to panic, pulse racing as her palms became sweaty. The last time she’d taken it off for him, he’d hurt her. But that was before she knew about what drove him. About the evil that tried to posses him. “Hold still.” Before she could change her mind, she fastened it around his neck and looked into his green eyes.
