From lovers to sworn enemies…and back again? A dramatic Dynasties tale from USA TODAY bestselling author Michelle Celmer!

Wealthy private investigator Roman Slater has never forgiven himself for hurting former flame Grace Winchester. And Grace has never forgiven him, either! When she discovers that he now has her family in his sights, she puts up a fight.

But where Roman is concerned, she can’t help it: she’s a lover not a fighter. Despite herself, she’s back in the millionaire’s bed just like that. But is Grace setting herself up for a replay of past betrayals? Or will Roman prove that he’s one of the good guys this time around?

“Just to be clear, this is not a date.”

Roman shrugged, shooting her a knowing smile. “If you say so. But are you sure this non-date has nothing to do with the fact that you wanted me to kiss you in the library the other day?”

Grace blinked. “When did I say that?”

He grinned. “Sweetheart, you didn’t have to. It’s been seven years, but I can still read you like a book.”

“I seriously doubt that,” she said, but her eyes told a different story. Like maybe she worried that he was right. “I’m not the same naive, trusting woman I was back then. And don’t call me sweetheart.”

He shrugged. “Sorry, Gracie. I thought you liked terms of endearment.”

“But that’s not why you said it. You’re not nearly as charming as you think you are.”

“But I am charming,” he said, waiting for a kick in the shin.

She rolled her eyes instead. “I know you think so.”

“Honey, I know so.”

* * *

Back in the Enemy’s Bed is part of the Dynasties: The Newports series— Passion and chaos consume a Chicago real-estate empire.

Back in the Enemy’s Bed

Michelle Celmer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MICHELLE CELMER is a bestselling author of more than thirty books. When she’s not writing, she likes to spend time with her husband, kids, grandchildren and a menagerie of animals.

Michelle loves to hear from readers. Like her on Facebook or write her at PO Box 300, Clawson, MI 48017, USA.

For Mike and Trevor

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Extract

Copyright

One

Grace Winchester didn’t get nervous.

As the youngest of the Winchester daughters, she may have had a privileged and pampered childhood, but as an adult she was no spoiled heiress. She’d worked damned hard building her fashion-design business, and she was a well-known and respected activist for women’s rights. In a world where men dominated, she’d trained herself over the years to believe that there wasn’t anything she couldn’t do.

Okay, so there was one thing.

She couldn’t say no to her father.

The closest thing to royalty in Chicago, Sutton Lazarus Winchester was not the sort of man who took no for an answer. One stern look from those piercing green eyes and people fell in line. But with all the recent scandal surrounding their family, and Sutton’s failing health, lately she could see the worn-away edges on his harsh manner and hoped that he would take pity on her. Just this once, because what he was asking of her was truly her worst nightmare.

“Daddy, I don’t want to do this.”

Her father, sitting like a king on his throne at his massive teak desk, in his equally massive office in the Winchester estate, didn’t even look up from the laptop screen. He’d been ill for months, sometimes barely strong enough to climb out of bed. But today was a good day. He even had some color in his hollow cheeks. “We all do things we don’t want to, Princess. It’s called life.”

She felt herself being reduced to the whining and stubborn adolescent who would stomp her foot and huff when her parents told her no. Which honestly hadn’t been all that often. She was the baby of the family, and with a bat of her ultra-long super-dark lashes most everyone gave her what she wanted. But what he was asking her to do now? When he’d said the words, they shook her deep to her core.

Roman Slater is coming to speak to me and I want you here.

Roman Slater, owner of the top private investigation firm in the Midwest, Slater Investigation Services, and the one man on the face of the planet whom Gracie swore never to speak to again. Roman Slater, who’d swept her off her feet and promised to love her forever, then betrayed her and her family in the worst way possible. And not just once, but two times.

All of her life people had used Gracie to get to her father, but she’d thought Roman was different. She’d thought he’d truly loved and trusted her. And she had trusted him with not only her family, but her heart.

Big mistake.

“I don’t understand why I need to be in the meeting,” she told her father, and if she were hoping for an explanation, she didn’t get it. Sutton Winchester never justified his demands, or explained himself. He’d never had to.

“You’re staying,” he said, an edge of impatience in his tone. It was the voice he used when she was pushing her luck.

The reality of the situation began to sink in. In only a few minutes Roman would be standing there, in the flesh, in her father’s office. So many mixed feelings buzzed through her brain she felt dizzy and disoriented. Instinct was telling her to run and hide, and though she knew that it wasn’t physically possible for her heart to sink, it sure felt as if it had. It was currently somewhere south of her spleen.

Earlier in the day, before her father summoned her home, life had been good. In fact, it had been great. Her new line of purses was flying off the shelves in every boutique in every major city in the United States, and the new fashion app she’d recently created was now on smartphones and tablets all over the world. So other than not having any time for a personal life, and being a tiny bit lonely, she couldn’t complain. Now it felt as if her world had been thrown totally off axis.

Why did it have to be her? Couldn’t her sister Eve take her place? She was the CEO of the family business, Elite Industries, the multimillion-dollar real estate giant Sutton had founded. The business that Roman had recently, under the direction of Sutton’s mortal enemy, Brooks Newport, tried to take down in a scandal of epic proportions.

If there was a competing royal family in Chicago, the Newport brothers, Brooks, Graham and Carson, were it. The Newport brothers were self-made millionaires with axes to grind. Brooks in particular had made it his mission to crush Sutton, run his business into the ground, and ostracize Gracie and her sisters, Nora and Eve. Which had nearly slammed the brakes on the intense love affair between Eve and Graham Newport, Gracie’s future brother-in-law.

And Roman had helped him orchestrate the entire media smear campaign against their family. As if he hadn’t betrayed her family enough already. Seven years after the first scandal he’d been involved with, in which the Winchesters had been exonerated of any wrongdoing, he was coming back for more. But once again Brooks’s outrageous claims had no basis in reality, and in the end had only made the man look like the petty and greedy power-hungry narcissist that he was.

“After all the lies Brooks and Roman spread about us, why take a meeting with Roman at all?” Gracie asked her father. “Have you forgotten the way he dragged our family name through the mud? Twice! And the horrible things that they said you did this time?”

If she had been hoping for outrage, she didn’t get it. In fact, Sutton didn’t so much as bat an eyelash. “I haven’t forgotten,” he said.

Gracie adored her father, but she wasn’t blind to his faults. And he had more than his fair share. He’d lived large most of his life. He was a narcissistic, arrogant, womanizing jerk, who drank, smoked and lived hard, but he would never sink so low as to commit date rape. And four of the five illegitimate children Brooks had accused him of fathering were a genetic mismatch. Carson, however, had tested positive, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was Sutton’s illegitimate son. Gracie and her sisters were still reeling from the news that they had a half brother. Sutton’s numerous romantic affairs were no secret. But Gracie had strong suspicions that his relationship with Cynthia Newport had been more than an affair. She knew that her parents’ marriage had been one based on financial compatibility more than love, but it still hurt to think that Sutton had been in love with someone other than their mother, Celeste.

But enough already. She was tired of the rumors and conjecture. Sutton was dying and Gracie just wanted him to be able to go in peace.

Not only had the scandal affected Sutton’s failing health, but the risk to their company had been profound, and they were in jeopardy of losing several multimillion-dollar accounts if the attacks on Sutton’s reputation didn’t stop. Eve had managed to keep the company on an even keel, but now that she was pregnant with Graham’s baby, things were even more complicated.

And this whole mess was thanks to Roman and what Grace considered to be his less-than-impressive PI skills. When she thought of all the pain he had caused, all the suffering and humiliation he had subjected them to, anger lit a fire in her belly.

She would choose anger over shaky nerves any day.

“What if Brooks sent him here to dig up more dirt?” she said, hoping to talk some sense into her father. “So he can finish the job and destroy our family.”

Sutton folded his hands on the desk in front of him and looked up from the computer screen with the same clear green eyes she saw every morning in the mirror. For a sixty-five-year-old, he’d been in impressive physical shape until his lung cancer diagnosis earlier this year. Now his poor health was undeniable. Though he was a true fighter, the cancer had spread to his lymph nodes and there was nothing that his team of doctors could do. It was only a matter of time.

Today, thankfully, was a good day. Some days lately, he could barely make it out of bed.

“Roman didn’t request to see me,” Sutton said. “I asked for this meeting.”

It took a second or two to process what he’d said, then her jaw nearly came unhinged, right along with her temper. And she did something that she never, ever did. She raised her voice to him.

“Why would you do that, Daddy? After all the family has been through, how could you even think of letting that man in our home?”

“It’s something I need to do,” he said firmly, and there was a softness in his gaze, a look of resignation in his eyes that broke Gracie’s heart. Sutton never showed weakness. She had never once seen him cry, or lose his composure, and rarely had she seen him truly angry. But this look of defeat was more than she could take.

She felt her own anger, and what little was left of her resolve, fizzle away. She had to remember that her father had very limited time left on this earth. Weeks. Months. No one could say for sure. If meeting with Roman meant so much to him, what choice did she have but to respect his wishes? Her pride be damned...and her nerves, because although Gracie Winchester never got nervous, right now her heart was thumping against her kidneys and her palms had begun to sweat.

The sudden rap on the door nearly startled her right out of her Manolo Blahniks and she automatically reached up to check her hair, which she had smoothed into a tasteful chignon that morning. Suddenly she found herself wishing she’d worn it down. Though she had no clue why.

As her father’s assistant opened the door, Gracie nervously smoothed the front of her Versace skirt, then folded her hands behind her back, so no one would see them trembling.

“Roman Slater to see you, sir.”

Gracie felt as if the room was spinning around her. Her heart was pounding hard, and that irrational urge to run was back, but her knees were so weak she would never make it to the door.

Or out the nearest window.

“See him in,” Sutton said, and Gracie stood frozen, trying not to hyperventilate.

The assistant stepped back and with a sweeping motion of her hand invited the family’s worst enemy into their most sacred domain. Gracie held her breath as the bane of her existence strolled through the doorway, as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

Wearing all black, he cut an impressive figure in tailored slacks, a dress shirt unbuttoned at the neck and a sport coat that showcased his wide shoulders, thick arms and narrow hips. All designer label.

So different from the Roman of their youth, the jeans-wearing, T-shirt-sporting college student who never gave a hoot about fashion. But now, as owner of a multimillion-dollar company, he had to look the part. And he did, except maybe for the hair. His dark locks were a touch too long, and a little too rumpled, but somehow it worked.

She waited for the anger to crash over her like a suffocating wave, for the resentment to turn her blood to acid and eat its way through her veins, but she felt something so unexpected it took a minute to identify the emotion.

She felt...relieved.

Several years after Roman had betrayed her the first time, he’d gone missing on a military mission, and had been rumored to be dead. It had ripped her to pieces, even after the way he’d betrayed her. At the time, she would have given anything to have him back. Anything to change what had happened, because her leaving him was the reason he’d joined the military in the first place.

She’d thought that maybe if she had forgiven him and they had stayed together he would still be alive.

The guilt had eaten her up for months, until she’d heard on the news that he and several of his fellow soldiers were still alive and being held in a POW camp in the Middle East by an Al Qaeda offshoot. And most likely being subjected to unspeakable forms of torture. Though she had been weak with relief to know that he was alive, had he been dealt a fate worse than death? Would they torture him, then kill him anyway? The possibilities had kept her up nights, and robbed her of her appetite. She’d lost ten pounds in a week, and felt so tired and depressed she could barely do her job. So she’d stopped watching the news reports and reading updates in the papers. She’d pushed him as far from her mind as she could, though there hadn’t been a day since then that she didn’t think of him at least once.

Eventually Roman and his teammates had been rescued. When she knew he was alive, and safely back in the US, she’d felt a soothing sense of peace. She’d felt as if she could finally let go of the resentment. They were, in a sense, even.

Which was a horrible way to look at it. Her broken heart and sullied reputation couldn’t hold a candle to his weeks of torture. She wouldn’t wish that upon her worst enemy.

Which, come to think of it, he was.

Because recently Brooks, with Roman’s help, had launched his campaign to destroy not only her father, but Gracie and her sisters as well, and that familiar old hatred had come oozing back like burning tar in her soul.

Yet here she was feeling relieved to see him?

What the hell was wrong with her?

“Roman,” Sutton said, slowly rising from his seat to shake his adversary’s hand, and Roman’s hesitation to take it underscored his hostility.

“Sutton,” he replied, contempt clear in his tone.

“You remember my daughter Grace,” Sutton said and Gracie’s heart sailed to the balls of her feet.

Roman turned and his soulful hazel eyes sliced through her like hot knives.

Roman had always been beautiful. Now he was a Greek god, with his wide jaw and broad shoulders. His nose had been broken at some point, and he had scars on his face. One started at his temple and bisected his left brow, coming dangerously close to his eye, and another jagged line ran across his forehead and disappeared under his dark hair. Some women might have been put off, but she thought it only enhanced his sex appeal.

Then she thought of how he’d gotten them, and that there were probably others she couldn’t see, and felt a shaft of guilt.

“Grace,” he said, his deep voice strumming her nerve endings, making something primitive and completely irrational stir in her belly.

Attraction.

Uh-uh. No way.

No normal, well-adjusted person would be physically attracted to someone who tried to ruin her life.

He reached over to shake her hand, and without thinking, and purely out of habit, she took it, regretting the move instantly. But it was too late now.

He grabbed on firmly, and she gripped his much larger hand just as tightly. It was as if they both felt they had something to prove. It was almost amusing in its absurdity, and she wondered what he would do if she challenged him to an arm wrestle.

Roman’s eyes taunted her. Dared her to say something snarky. Dared her to pull away first. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

She met his challenge, chin in the air, praying he wouldn’t call her bluff...and sighing quietly with relief when, with the ghost of a smile, he finally let go.

Imagine that. Apparently even he had limits.

Roman turned to her father, exasperation and impatience oozing from his pores. He clearly was not there by choice. “So let’s cut to the chase, Sutton. Why am I here?”

Sutton sat back down, his movements slow and precise to lessen the profound pain he suffered on a daily basis now, then gestured to one of the two chairs opposite his desk. “Relax. Have a seat.”

One dark brow rising slightly, Roman folded his arms across that ridiculously wide chest, as if to say, Yeah, right. “Just tell me what you want. You said you have important information regarding a client of mine. Who?”

Gracie couldn’t deny being curious herself. What was her father up to? And why hadn’t he run it past her beforehand, so she didn’t feel so left in the dark? Did it maybe have to do with something other than business? Something personal?

“I understand you’re still looking for the natural father of Graham and Brooks Newport,” Sutton said.

Unimpressed, Roman shrugged. “I am. So what?”

“I may be able to help you.”

“Help me?” Roman said, with a deep and incredulous laugh. One that Gracie felt deep in her bones. “Is that some kind of joke? You’ve repeatedly fought me in my investigation, throwing up roadblocks every chance you could. Now you’re saying you want to help? I don’t buy it.”

“I don’t blame you for your hesitation, Roman, but for the sake of your clients you should listen to me. I have information that could help them.”

Looking skeptical, but intrigued, Roman narrowed his eyes and said, “All right, what information?”

“I can’t tell you.”

One of those laughs rumbled in Roman’s chest and he shook his head. “I’m finished with your games, Sutton.”

“It’s not a game. I can help them, but I have to speak to them directly. I’ve been thinking a lot about this since they came here with Carson.”

“So why am I here?”

“I’d like to set up a meeting with them. As soon as they’re both available. Together.”

Gracie blinked with surprise. He wanted to invite his mortal enemy here, into their home? And they’d actually already met once before? Had the cancer treatments begun to compromise his brain?

“Graham and Brooks aren’t on the best of terms right now,” Roman said. “As Graham’s future father-in-law you should know that.”

“I do. That’s why I called you. I’m confident you can make them see reason.”

Roman didn’t look so confident, and Gracie had to side with him on this one. Graham’s secret relationship with Gracie’s sister Eve had made things very tense between the brothers. Now that Graham was going to have a child by Eve, he’d eased up on the Winchesters, but Brooks continued to pursue his vendetta against them, leading to fights between the brothers. And Brooks was trying to drag Carson into the mix by insisting he fight for what was rightfully his: a full quarter of the Winchester fortune. However, if Graham and Brooks knew Sutton was now willing to talk regarding their real father, whose identity had eluded them for years, perhaps they would put their differences aside.

“Why not tell Graham and have him pass the information on to his brother?” Roman asked. “If it’s legitimate, Brooks will listen.”

“No,” Sutton said. “I have to do it here, in my office, with both of them.”

“Why, Daddy?” Gracie hadn’t meant to say that out loud and the sound of her own voice surprised her. It seemed to startle Roman, as well. He looked her way.

Sutton gazed up at her with what could only be described as tenderness, and said quietly, “It’s just something I need to do.”

The vulnerability in his eyes melted her. And forced her to do something she’d thought she would never have to again. Talk to Roman.

She met his icy gaze and swallowed past the lump building in her throat, struggling to find the anger and resentment she’d felt before he walked through the door. Did he have to look so hard and cold and intimidating? Maybe he’d learned that in the military. Because the Roman she knew had never looked at her like that before. She could barely remember him even raising his voice to her when they argued, which they hadn’t really done all that much come to think of it. Their relationship had been pretty easy. Right up until the moment it wasn’t. When she learned of how he’d betrayed her.

She had screamed at him then, and the worst part was that he never screamed back. He had only stood there looking remorseful, taking full responsibility for what he had done.

Though he had never actually said the words I’m sorry, his remorse had been clear on his face. And it wouldn’t have made a difference if he had. There were no words to make up for his betrayal and all the hurt he caused. And if her father wanted this meeting, he was going to get it.

She could be snarky, but she knew Roman well enough to know that attitude wouldn’t work. She shoved down her pride as far as it would go and tucked her tail firmly between her legs. She was doing it for Daddy.

“You know that my father isn’t well. If this is something he needs to do I want to get it done. What will it take to get you to help?”

Her father touched her arm and said firmly, “Thank you, Princess. But let me handle this.”

Two

Princess?

Really?

Roman resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn’t the least bit surprised to see Gracie pleading Sutton’s case. She always had been, and always would be, a slave to her father’s demands. A dedicated daddy’s girl. Roman had learned that one a long time ago, the hard way. When it came to her loyalty, Sutton and her two sisters always came first.

Though it did look to Roman as though the old man didn’t have much time left. The weight loss, the gray pallor. Roman had watched it happen to his own father when he was only fifteen, then five years later to his mother. Roman could see that Sutton Winchester was knocking on death’s door, and didn’t doubt that the man’s excessive lifestyle had ultimately been his undoing. The skirt chasing, heavy drinking and high-stress business dealings had taken their toll.

Which was why Roman didn’t feel a bit sorry for him.

Sutton turned to Roman and asked, “Will you arrange it?”

Yeah, right. Who the hell did Sutton think he was, asking anything from Roman? He didn’t owe the man a damned thing. “Um...no. I won’t.”

“I’ll pay you,” Sutton said, and Roman’s hackles went up.

The idea of taking the old man’s money made him sick to his stomach. He shook his head and said, “Not gonna happen.”

“What do you want? Just name it.”

He opened his mouth to tell the old geezer that he had nothing to offer that Roman could possibly want, when something stopped him. He glanced over at Gracie, who was doing her best not to look at Roman. He remembered all the times in the past that Sutton had tried to sabotage Roman’s relationship with Gracie, because he never considered Roman—a military brat—good enough for his precious daughter. But Roman had come a long way since then. Now Sutton needed him, and clearly he had nothing to lose.

He glanced over at Gracie, casually eyeing her up and down. “How about an hour alone with your daughter.”

Gracie blinked, then blinked again, and asked in an incredulous tone, “To do what, exactly?”

He let a slow smile curl his lips. “Whatever I want.”

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. He had rendered the great Grace Winchester speechless. That was a first. And it gave him more satisfaction than he’d ever imagined it could.

“It was a joke,” Roman said. “I just want to talk.”

“But I don’t want to talk to you,” she replied, glancing nervously toward her father. Would Sutton really do that to her? Knowing Roman and Gracie’s complicated past, would he really force her to speak with him?

“I’ll give you fifteen minutes with her,” Sutton said, cementing in Roman’s mind what a bastard the man really was, selling out his own daughter.

Gracie gasped and said, “Daddy!”

She looked to Roman with pleading eyes.

“Forty-five,” Roman said, ignoring her.

“Twenty,” Sutton countered without missing a beat.

Un-freaking-believable.

Grace just stood there, her mouth hanging open, as if she couldn’t believe this exchange was really happening. That she was being bartered like property.

“Thirty and not a minute less,” Roman told Sutton. “And that’s my final offer. Otherwise, you’re on your own, old man.”

Knowing how vain Sutton was, the “old man” comment had to stick in his craw, but he never let it show. He considered it for less than ten seconds before he said, “We have a deal.”

Wow, the man truly had no scruples or decency. Gracie had offered to help, but considering her wide-eyed stare, Roman doubted this was what she had in mind. The question was, would she really do it?

Maybe Sutton had no scruples, but Roman did. “What do you say, Grace? Thirty minutes to catch up?”

Roman could see that she wanted to say no. But Sutton broke into a coughing spasm that paled his skin and stole his breath, and Grace winced.

She laid a hand on her father’s shoulder until the spasm ceased then said gently, “Of course I’ll do it.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Roman said. “But I can’t promise that Graham and Brooks will cooperate.”

“If anyone can get them to agree, you can,” Sutton said.

An actual compliment? Wonders never ceased.

Roman turned to Grace and grinned, and the patience and compassion she showed her father evaporated before his eyes. He could feel the tension and her hatred for him radiating from every pore. And he deserved it for his boorish behavior, but if this was the only way to get Gracie to talk to him, so be it.

“When would you like your thirty minutes?” she said through clenched teeth.

“Right now works for me,” he said with a grin, feeling smug about the whole situation. He hadn’t been looking forward to his meeting with Sutton and had originally told him no. It had taken some convincing to change his mind and now he was glad he had. And if Sutton thought that having his daughter there would soften Roman up, he was wrong.

Well, maybe not totally wrong.

He had half suspected the old man would pull something like this, but when Roman saw Gracie standing there in her father’s office it was still a shock.

“We can talk in the library,” Gracie said stiffly, her back ramrod straight as she spun around and led him out of the room, her entire being vibrating with anger and hatred for him.

Considering what her family had been through recently, who could blame her? But she had it all wrong this time. And she owed him a chance to explain his role in the recent scandal involving her family. How it was not his intention, or even his fault, that her family was caught up in scandal.

Not this time anyway.

Her spiked heels clicked against the marble floor as she led him to the library, where they used to spend many a Sunday morning stretched out on the sofa in the sunshine, their bodies intertwined, reading the paper. Back when they were dating, of course, when she was in college and still lived at her father’s estate. Roman had been fresh out of college and working his first job as a fledgling private investigator, quickly moving up the ranks of the firm.

But he had been too smug and gung ho for his own good and consequently had made the biggest mistake of his life. He’d begun investigating officials and politicians with suspected ties to the mob and Sutton’s name had come up. Gracie, who had been interning at Elite Industries at the time, was implicated in making some computer files disappear and helping Sutton launder money. Roman had confronted her and she’d sworn that it wasn’t true, that her father would never work with the mob and she certainly wouldn’t do anything illegal. He had wanted to believe her, but he was young and stupid and the evidence had looked so overwhelming that he hadn’t trusted her. By the time he had realized his mistake, it was too late.

And he’d paid for it.

The pain and anguish in her eyes as she’d berated him for his betrayal were almost more than he could take. And he had deserved each and every harsh word. He would have done anything to take it back. To go back in time and relive the past. But knowing she would never forgive him, that he didn’t even deserve her forgiveness, Roman hadn’t even tried to apologize. He’d ruined his career and made more than a few enemies in the mob. For his own safety he’d had to leave town.

After denying his military roots for so long, and with nowhere else to go, he’d joined the army and started a new life for himself. Started over. But his capture, and torture, and resulting PTSD, had brought to a close that phase of his life, as well.

Once again he had pulled himself up and started over, never accepting for a second that he would be anything but successful. His former training in black ops and status as a war hero had brought in the business at first, but his impeccable performance and record of success in solving cases had kept the customers calling. The firm had grown to proportions and experienced a level of success that even he hadn’t imagined.

And this time, when it came to Gracie and her family, he’d done nothing wrong. He’d been doing his job, and doing it well.

Gracie ushered him into the library and shut the doors behind them. It looked just as it had seven years ago. In fact, nothing of the Winchester estate that he’d seen so far today had changed at all.

Roman strolled to the huge bay window that looked out over the grounds. Mostly bare trees swung testily in the cool wind blowing off the lake, their colorful leaves fluttering to the lawn, where workers hurried to gather them up.

“So what is this all about?” Gracie asked from behind him. He turned to her and she did not look happy. And her mood wasn’t likely to improve.

“As I said, I just want to talk.”

She folded her arms and glared at him. “What if I don’t want to talk to you?”

Didn’t seem like she had much of a choice. He slowly and deliberately crossed the room to where she stood, his eyes never leaving her face, and stopped in front of her at a distance that was probably just a bit too close for her comfort. So that she had to look up to meet his eye. Even in her gargantuan heels.

“Sweetheart, all you have to do is listen.”

It took a lot to make Grace Winchester squirm, but he was sure he had her panties in a twist right now, but she held her ground. Her confidence and competence had fascinated Roman from the day they were introduced by a mutual friend in college. She had been young and pretty, sharp as a whip, ridiculously smart and motivated, and he had been instantly drawn to her. The first time he talked to her, he could see that she felt it too—that tug.

He had always been a practical, logical person, but there had been nothing logical about his feelings for this woman he had barely known at the time. She had turned his whole world upside down. Back then she was confident, driven and full of energy. And he’d wanted her. Badly. He’d had no idea who she was until weeks later when, scanning the society pages, he happened to see a photo of Gracie and her sisters with Sutton taken at some charity event. Being a navy brat, he’d lived in bases all over the world. He’d had no clue about high-society Chicago.

He and Gracie had grown pretty close by then, and knowing she’d held that back from him had hurt his feelings and had him questioning their friendship. He’d confronted her, and her explanation for the deception had broken his heart. She’d shrugged, as if it was no big deal, and said, “People use me to get to my father all the time. When someone shows interest in me, I have a process. I had to know if you were really who you said you were.”

“And you think I am?” he’d asked, hoping she’d say yes.

She’d smiled and said, “Yeah, I do. Thanks for being a real friend.”

In that instant, he’d realized he could never be with her. He’d wanted to. More than she ever could have imagined. But friendship was the only thing she’d really needed from him. Someone to always have her back, and help keep away those people who would try to take advantage of her. And it had been shocking to see just how many there were. That’s when he genuinely understood her caution, and the realization had cemented them firmly in the friendship zone. If they were to get into a romantic situation that didn’t work out, he knew it would end their friendship. Then who would watch out for her? Who would be her “true” friend?

It wasn’t a chance he had been willing to take. Not then anyway. But later, after he graduated, things changed. And by then it was too late to change back.

“I want to explain what happened,” he told her.

Her voice ice-cold, she said, “You mean how you tried to destroy my family. Again.”

It was the “again” that got him, and the hint of pain layered just beneath the anger in her voice. The last thing he’d wanted to do was hurt her. “Brooks hired me to investigate and I was doing my job.”

She huffed. “Sure you were. By making up lies and spreading rumors about us. Just like the last time. I know my father isn’t perfect, but to accuse him of date rape?”

“That wasn’t me. I had no intention of accusing him of anything until I had the facts. But Brooks was pushing me for an update so I told him what information I already had. I told him that it was unsubstantiated, and I needed more time to investigate. Brooks didn’t want to wait. I was just as shocked as everyone else when he went public.”

Roman hadn’t known that Brooks had been planning to take all that unverified evidence to the local media until it was too late. Unfortunately his brother Graham hadn’t realized either that Brooks’s only goal had been to take Sutton and his family down, even if his allegations were based on rumors and lies. But by then there was nothing Roman or anyone else could do to stem the flow of speculation and accusations. The damage was already done.

Definitely not Roman’s fault.

“It’s not as if you have a history with this sort of thing,” Gracie said, her tone dripping with resentment as she propped her hands on her very sexy hips, lifted her chin high and met his gaze. As if to say, Here I am. Take your best shot.

“I’ve made terrible mistakes,” he told her, and his candor made her blink with surprise. But he believed in taking responsibility for his actions, no matter how hard it might be. “I know I’ve caused you and your family unspeakable pain. And I’ve had to live with that. But I swear to you that I didn’t have any knowledge of Brooks’s plan and had nothing to do with it. I was just doing my job.”

“Give me one good reason why I should believe you.”

“I don’t have one.” If he were her, he probably wouldn’t believe him, either.

She didn’t seem to know what to say, when in the past she’d always had strong opinions about pretty much everything.

“Now I want to ask you a question,” he said.

She shook her head. “Nope. That was not part of the deal. I’m only supposed to listen, remember? It’s just like you to go back on your word.”

A direct hit. Clearly she was giving him no slack. That was more like the Gracie he knew.

“Answer it, don’t answer it, that’s up to you,” he said. “I just want to know why you let Sutton do that to you.”

Her brow wrinkled with confusion, and her curiosity won out over her stubborn nature. “Do what?”

“Belittle and disrespect you.”

She instantly went on the defensive, looking outraged by his accusation. “He didn’t. He loves me.”

“You’re so used to it you don’t even see it,” he said, shaking his head sadly. Sutton was a textbook sociopath. Roman wasn’t sure if he was even capable of genuine love. He was too narcissistic.

“See what?” she snapped.

“Let’s put it this way. You have a name and it isn’t Princess.”

* * *

Gracie rolled her eyes in exasperation. “It’s a term of endearment. Not an insult.”

“Not during a business meeting,” Roman said, and she felt her resolve falter. Okay, so it did annoy her a little when her father called her Princess in certain situations. Especially in business meetings. But that was just his way.

“And that’s not half as bad as the way he just bartered you like property to get what he wanted,” Roman said.

Ouch. He hit a raw nerve with that comment, and it took everything in her not to wince. He was right. What her father had done to her today was beyond humiliating. And inexcusable. But she didn’t believe he was intentionally disrespecting her. He was just used to getting what he wanted.

And how does that make it okay? an annoying little inner voice asked.

Simple. It didn’t. There was nothing okay about the way he’d treated her, so why did she put up with it? He would have never done such a thing to Gracie’s sisters. But then again, they wouldn’t have tolerated it. Had she been so enamored, such a devoted daddy’s girl, that she let him walk all over her? That he took advantage of her devotion?

The idea made her sick to her stomach.

She could blame it on his illness but she would only be lying to herself.

“No one deserves to be disrespected that way,” Roman said, and she recognized his tone. She’d heard it a lot near the end of their relationship. He was angry. But not at her.

He was angry for her.

She had no idea what that meant, or how she should take it. Or even what she should say in response. Thank you? Mind your own business?

After all this time why did he even care anymore? Was this some sort of trick or manipulation? Was he using her to get to her father again?

“You should have told us both to go to hell,” he said, sounding genuinely mad. And he was right, she should have, so why hadn’t she? Why had she...

Her thoughts came to a screeching halt.

Wait a minute. Roman had been the one to suggest the bargain in the first place. Was that not disrespectful, as well? Who was he to judge her father? Or her.

Her temper flared and her blood simmered in her veins. “Could you be more of a hypocrite? Are you forgetting that you started it? You put me in the hot seat.”

“I did,” he admitted, looking unapologetic. “And it was wrong. Absolutely. But I honestly didn’t think he would do it. I thought he would throw me out on my ass. I would have if it was my daughter.”

Ouch, another direct hit. Damn him. And he was right. If she were ever to have a child, she could not even imagine putting him or her in such a compromising position. “So why didn’t you just walk away? You didn’t want to help him in the first place so I’m sure it would have given you a lot of satisfaction to leave him hanging.”

“It would,” he agreed. “But it gives me more satisfaction to know that I talked to you, and you listened. That was all I wanted.”

“Why?” she said, then immediately regretted the question. Maybe she didn’t want to know why. Because the look in his eyes...

It was the one he always got right before he kissed her. And they were standing so close that if he wanted to, he would barely have to lean forward...

“On second thought I don’t want to know,” she said, taking a small step back, hoping he wouldn’t notice. But of course he did.

His eyes sparked with mischief. “Are you afraid you might like what I have to say? Or are you just afraid of me in general?”

Pretty much all of the above. She didn’t even want to go there, but as he stepped a little closer, invading her personal space, her feet felt glued to the floor.

“I have no reason to be afraid of you,” she said, cursing the slight wobble in her voice.

“I came here at your father’s request for one reason, and one reason only,” he told her, leaning in just a little, and she braced herself for what she already knew was coming. “Because I thought I might see you.”

Damn, that was what she was afraid of.

His wry grin said he was having too much fun torturing her. And it was torture to be so close to him and not be able to put her hands on him. How had this happened when a few minutes ago she hated him? Well, maybe not hated. That was a very strong word. And for all their troubles, sexual attraction had never been one of them. Not even at the end.

Obviously, not even now.

The first year they’d known each other their relationship had been deeply rooted in the “just friends” category. And he truly had been her best friend. However, that had never doused the fires of a heart-melting crush. But he’d never shown an interest in her physically, so she had been convinced she wasn’t his type. Until one night after a horror-movie marathon, as they were hugging goodbye at his apartment door. She had pushed up on her toes to kiss Roman’s cheek, and he had leaned forwrad in that exact second to kiss hers. She had tilted one way, and he the opposite, and somehow their lips had collided.

And oh. My. God.

The kiss had gone from zero to sixty in an instant. Roman had groaned and tangled his fingers in her hair, pulled her close. Then they couldn’t stop kissing, and before she knew what was happening she was off her feet. He carried her to his bedroom, where they ripped at each other’s clothes, falling into a tangle on the unmade bed. The sex was even better than she had imagined it would be. And boy, had she imagined it a lot. He had more than exceeded her expectations.

They’d made love half the night, and fallen asleep in each other’s arms. She’d been sure the next morning the disappointment would come. He would blame it on the bottle of wine they had shared, and ask her if they could go back to just being friends. And she’d known it would break her heart, and seeing him with another woman would destroy her, but she couldn’t imagine losing his friendship.

But he had told her he loved her instead. That he had always loved her, and wanted her, and she’d nearly wept with relief. After that they’d been inseparable. She’d loved him with all of her heart.

Then he had betrayed her.

Three

Those warm fuzzy memories from their past turned to ice in her veins. Was he here not really to explain, but to turn her against her own father? His weapon this time wasn’t lies and accusations. This time it was truth. And the truth did hurt. A lot.

But why should she trust anything he said to her?

Something in Roman’s expression changed. “Did someone open a window? It just got chilly in here.”

“I see what you’re doing,” she said, backing away from him. “You’re trying to turn me against my father.”

A shadow passed across his face and the temperature dropped another ten degrees. “Is that really what you think?”

She had offended him. Well, tough. “You’ve tried it before.”

“As someone who lost both of his parents at a very young age, I would never intentionally put a wedge between a parent and a child.”

“You told me my father was working with the mob! How did you think I would feel?”

“I said that I suspected he was. And I only told you that to keep you safe. And you didn’t believe me anyway.”

“And I was right. There were no mob ties, were there?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“And I wasn’t laundering money for him, either. Or destroying evidence. Was I?”

That made him wince a little. “No, you weren’t.”

“After all this time I still can’t believe you would accuse me of that,” she said. “I thought you knew me better.”

“I didn’t accuse. I asked.”

“You suspected, and that was just as bad. The idea that you believed I might be capable—” Emotion rushed up to block her airway, making it impossible to finish her sentence. It was taking all her strength to hold back the sob that was working its way up.

She would not cry. He wasn’t worth it.

She thought she’d put all of these feelings to rest, but here she was raw and bleeding again.

She was not going to cry.

“I made a mistake,” he said, “and not a day has gone by since then that I haven’t regretted it.”

He was making it worse, being so reasonable. Admitting he was wrong. And if she didn’t get a grip, she was going to go all girly on him. She was not a crier. The last time she remembered shedding a tear was the day of Sutton’s cancer diagnosis. But here she was fighting back a waterfall.

He needed to go now.

“Your time is up,” she said, not even looking to the clock to see if thirty minutes had passed. Or was it supposed to be twenty? She couldn’t even remember. She just wanted him gone. And she hated herself for letting him get to her. For letting herself care at all. She was stronger than that. And smarter. “You have to leave.”

He didn’t look at his watch as he nodded. Apparently he had said all he came to say. “I’ll let myself out.”

Maybe he could see that she was hanging on by a very thin thread and was kind enough to spare her dignity.

She watched him cross the room to the door, noting a slight catch in his gait, as though he was favoring his left leg. He stopped on the threshold, his broad shoulders nearly filling the frame, and turned back to her. She held her breath, waiting, feeling an overwhelming sense of anticipation.

“Seven years ago, I thought I could keep the nature of my investigation from you. That alone was wrong. And when you did find out I should have trusted you when you said you weren’t involved. But I was young and arrogant and I screwed up. I know I never apologized for what I did, but only because I didn’t think you would ever accept it, or that I even deserved your forgiveness. But I’m saying it now. I’m sorry, Gracie.”

Her heart melted. She wanted to run across the room, throw her arms around his neck and tell him that she forgave him, that she would always forgive him, but she had to keep her head on straight. She was caught up in the moment, in his tender honesty, and knew she would regret letting him off too easy. Besides, she didn’t even know if she did forgive him, or if she believed he had nothing to do with the latest scandal. She didn’t know what to think, so she chose her words carefully.

“I appreciate that,” she said, which got her a wry, slightly crooked grin.

“I get it,” he said. “You’ll accept my apology in your own good time. I understand, and I’m in no hurry.”

She had no idea what to say, but it didn’t matter because he turned and then he was gone.

Feeling relieved, grateful, and painfully disappointed for some silly and irrational reason, Gracie collapsed into a leather chair and exhaled deeply, waiting for the flood, giving herself permission to cry. To sob her heart out if that was what she needed. But the damned tears wouldn’t come.

What the heck was wrong with her?

She didn’t feel sad, or hurt, or even angry with him. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling right now, other than confused.

She had anticipated this day for seven years, and it had gone absolutely nothing like she’d imagined. She’d always envisioned him being cocky and unapologetic. Someone she would love to hate, and keep on hating. But this?

This was way worse than the anger. Or the nerves.

She thought about what Roman had said, about her father disrespecting her. And she hated how right he was. And hated herself even more for letting Sutton do it to her. For turning a blind eye for so long. She deserved his respect. She had earned it. But maybe he didn’t even realize the way the things he did affected her. And instead of walking around with a big chip on her shoulder, she could just tell Sutton how she felt. Maybe he would apologize and promise not to do it again. It would be an amazing gift, because the great Sutton Winchester did not apologize for anything. Ever. But in his fragile condition did she want to risk upsetting him, or possibly putting a wedge in their relationship? He had so little time left.

No, she had to say something. If he passed away tomorrow she would spend the rest of her life feeling this unresolved resentment. That wasn’t what she wanted.

Rising from the chair, she smoothed the front of her skirt, took a deep breath and walked back to her father’s office. She rapped on the partially open door and peeked inside. Sutton was still sitting at his desk. He looked pale and exhausted. He should be in bed resting, but it was just like him to push himself to the limits and tire himself out.

She rapped softly on the door again. “Daddy, can I have a word with you?”

“What is it?” he snapped, not even looking at her.

She winced a little. That wasn’t a good sign. He’d been going through some severe mood swings lately. Most likely a result of the cancer now growing in his brain. “I wanted to talk to you about what happened with Roman.”

His eyes never left the screen, as if she wasn’t even worth his time, and it hurt. A lot.

“What about it?” he said.

As her hands began to tremble, she realized that this was going to be harder than she’d anticipated. But she pulled herself up by her bootstraps, raised her chin and said in a semistrong yet slightly shaky voice, “It was wrong what you did.”

In her life she couldn’t recall ever telling him he was wrong about anything, and he clearly didn’t like it.

The savvy and ruthless businessman looked up at her with eyes as cold as icicles. “And what did I do?”

The question was, what had she just done? He was obviously not feeling well. He looked so pale. Maybe she should have just kept her mouth shut.

Her voice trembling a little, she said, “I didn’t want to talk to Roman and you shouldn’t have forced me.”

“We all make sacrifices, Princess.”

Sacrifices? Shouldn’t that have been her choice? “You didn’t even ask me if it was okay. It was disrespectful and cruel.”

He muttered a curse under his breath. He was mad at her, and she felt herself backing down again the way she always did. “I’ve had a long day and I’m tired.” He sighed. “I don’t have time for this nonsense.”

He thought her feelings were nonsense? Was that seriously how he felt about her?

He’s not well, she reminded herself, holding her tongue. He was dying. Wasting away. For a man like Sutton, to lose his faculties had to be the highest form of humiliation.

So what was his excuse for the other twenty-six years before his diagnosis? that annoying little voice asked. But after what she had been through with Roman today, she didn’t have the energy or the will to make it an issue. If it weren’t for the pile of designs on her drawing table at the office, she would go home, crawl into bed, hide under the covers and stay there until her dignity returned. But that just wasn’t her. She was a fighter.

“I’ll leave you alone,” she said, backing away from his desk.

“I’m not through with you yet,” he said testily, stopping her in her tracks. Then he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, and she wondered if it really was either the cancer in his brain or the treatments making him so temperamental.

She swallowed her pride and in the calmest voice she could manage, said, “Yes?”

“I need you to do something for me.” He gazed up at her and the softness was back in his eyes. “Please.”

It was the please that got her. That melted her into a puddle. And every bit of resolve went out the window that she herself had wanted to jump through earlier. “Of course. Anything.”

“I need you to start seeing Roman again.”

It took a second for the meaning of his words to settle in, and when they did her jaw nearly hit the desk. There was no way he meant what she thought he meant. After what she had just said to him? “Seeing him where?”

“You’re going to date him.” It was a demand, not a request, and she was so stunned, she couldn’t form a reply. Now Sutton was pimping her out?

Finally she managed, “Wh-what if he doesn’t want to see me?”

“He’s clearly still attracted to you, and I need to know what he’s up to.”

Still attracted to her? Oh no he didn’t. He did not just suggest...

Sutton glanced up at her and did a double take. She must have looked as horrified as she felt.

“I’m not asking you to sleep with him,” he said, though his tone suggested he would have expected her to do it had he asked.

Or maybe she was being overly touchy under the circumstances. He wasn’t necessarily in his right mind.

“Just take him out a few times. You used to be good friends. He’ll open up to you,” Sutton said.

What did he think she was, a spy or something? A female James Bond?

She couldn’t deny the lure of spending time with Roman. Purely out of curiosity, of course. Just to see what he was like now, and how much he had changed. But this was crazy. “Daddy, I don’t know if I can do that. You know I’m not a good liar.”

“So don’t lie,” he said, and when she frowned his gaze softened. “Princess, I don’t have much time left and I don’t want to spend it embroiled in another scandal. Brooks is still determined to take us down and I think Roman is helping him.”

“He said he’s not.”

Her father’s brows lifted. “And you trust him?”

She sighed. Of course not. What reason would she have to? He’d lied to her before. Why would she assume that he would be honest about anything? She was smarter than that.

She shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

He held his hand out and she took it. His skin felt papery thin and so cold. He had aged so much in the past few months, and it broke her heart.

He squeezed. “I need to know what to expect, Princess. You’re the only one I trust. I need you to do this for me.”

And the guilt train pulled into the station. This was how he got her every time, and as much as she wanted to, as always she couldn’t say no.

“Okay,” she told him. “I’ll do it.”

“Do you have a date for the Welcome Home fund-raiser this weekend?”

She rarely took dates to charity functions, but a social interlude in a very public place sounded like a good idea. Though Roman had always hated formal affairs, and having to wear a “monkey suit.” But Welcome Home was an organization to assist wounded vets and their families, and being a wounded vet himself, he might make an exception.

“I’ll ask him to join me,” she said, then added, “but only as a friend. I will not lie to him, or lead him on in any way. And if he says no, I’m done. I won’t beg him.”

“Trust me, Princess,” he said, with that rare tenderness in his eyes. “He isn’t going to say no.”

* * *

How in the hell had he ended up here?

Roman sat in the back of the limo, watching the lights of Chicago whiz by through the tinted window, but the view inside the vehicle was the one getting him all hot and bothered.

Gracie was seated opposite him, with one tanned, shapely leg peeking out from the slit of an apricot silk evening gown. She was on her cell phone, speaking fluent French. She’d always had great legs, but they hadn’t come from hours of working out in the gym. She was one of those naturally thin women who could eat whatever they wanted and whom other women loved to hate.

Roman wasn’t fluent in French, but he knew enough to understand that it was a business call. After several minutes she said goodbye and slid her phone into her clutch.

“Sorry about that,” she said.

“That’s okay,” he told her, lowering his gaze to the leg playing peekaboo with her gown. “I’ve just been sitting here enjoying the view.”

She shot him a look dripping with exasperation. “Really.”

He grinned and gestured out the tinted window. “The view of the city,” he said, though she knew damn well what he was really looking at. And he couldn’t help but notice that she made no attempt to cover her leg.

She liked that he was looking. And he liked that she liked it. Clearly the past seven years had done nothing to douse his desire for her. The musky scent of her perfume enveloped him like a warm blanket, heating him to the core. It was the same brand she’d always worn. Her silky hair, pulled up in a mass of blond curls, revealed a long, slender neck he would love to kiss, and diamond-studded ears he was dying to nibble on. As a young woman she’d been cute and spunky with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Now, at twenty-seven, she was a knockout. And despite all the time that had passed, and all the discord between them, he still felt a familiarity and a closeness that puzzled him.

“So, are you ready to tell me what all this is about?” he asked her.

“All what?” she asked innocently, but he could see her squirm a little. She had always been a terrible liar. Which made what he’d put her through seven years ago even worse. Though she had never given him a reason not to, he hadn’t trusted her, and he’d paid the price.

“Tonight,” he said. “Your text was very...elusive. I was surprised when I got it.”

“I was a little surprised that I sent it.”

“Didn’t get enough of me the other day, huh?” he asked with a grin, which seemed to make her even more uncomfortable. “Or you just couldn’t get a date.”

“Just to be clear, this is not a date. This is two acquaintances sharing a ride to a social function. And as I already explained, since it’s a fund-raiser for wounded vets, I thought you would be interested in attending.”

He shrugged, shooting her a knowing smile. “If you say so.”

“Some of the most influential people in the state will be there. You’ll make good connections.”

“You sure this nondate has nothing to do with the fact that you wanted me to kiss you in the library the other day?”

She blinked. “When did I say that?”

He grinned. “Sweetheart, you didn’t have to. It’s been seven years, but I can still read you like a book.”

“I seriously doubt that,” she said, but her eyes told a different story. Like maybe she worried that he was right. “I’m not the same naive, trusting woman I was back then. And don’t call me sweetheart.”

“How about Princess? Can I call you that?”

She glared at him.

He shrugged. “Sorry, Gracie. I thought you liked terms of endearment.”

“But that’s not why you said it. You’re not nearly as charming as you think you are.”

“But I am charming,” he said, waiting for a kick in the shin.

She rolled her eyes instead. “I know you think so.”

“Honey, I know so.”

She let the honey comment go. “Funny, but I don’t recall you being this arrogant.”

He grinned. “And you’re as stubborn as you ever were. Just like my sister.”

“How is April? I seem to remember that she was getting married.”

Yeah, and Gracie was supposed to be his date, but he’d screwed that up. “She’s living in California with her husband, Rick, and their twin boys, Aaron and Adam.”

Gracie softened into that gooey-eyed look that women got whenever children were mentioned. “Oh my gosh! Twins?”

“Yep. She has her hands full.”

“How old?”

“They’ll be a year on Christmas Day,” he said, hearing the pride in his own voice. He’d never imagined himself ever having children, so he spoiled his nephews any chance he got. He had held them both just minutes after their birth, so there was a close connection. He would lay down his life for them. And for April—not that she needed his protection. She was one of the most competent women he’d ever known.

“I was in town visiting for the holidays when she had them. Her husband was deployed at the time so I went through the entire labor with her. It gave me a whole new respect for mothers.”

“Do you see them very often?”

“We Skype weekly.”

“She was always such a great person,” Gracie said with genuine affection in her voice.

Four years his junior, it had been exceptionally difficult for his sister when they lost their parents. And even harder for him to be away at college while she grieved alone, though she’d been taken in by a close family friend. He’d considered dropping out of school until she finished high school, but she wouldn’t let him. She did visit him often, though, and she had taken to Gracie instantly. They were only a year apart in age and were both strong, capable women, though they couldn’t have been any more different in their interests. April was a rough-and-tumble tomboy capable of drinking any man under the table, and she chose the armed services over college, marrying young. Gracie hadn’t been interested in marriage—at least not until she finished school—and they had never really talked about a family. He wondered now if she had ever considered it. Her ambition to be a fashion designer had always been her main focus. From what he’d seen in the media, she was a raging success, and her philanthropy was legendary.

“Is she still in the navy?” Gracie asked him.

“She and her husband both,” he said. “They’re both stateside right now, but tomorrow, who knows?”

“It must have been difficult for her when you were a POW.”

“It was.” At the mere mention of his capture that familiar sense of dread worked its way up from someplace deep inside him. But he instantly shoved it back down. It had taken intense rehabilitation to heal the physical trauma of his ordeal, and even longer to conquer the PTSD that had tortured his soul. To this day he still suffered nightmares, and occasionally woke in a panic, drenched in a cold sweat, his mind convinced he was still in the Middle East. But he was back to being a fairly centered and functioning human being. Giving in to his demons had never been an option, and he’d fought like hell to be well again.

Though he was usually pretty good at hiding his emotions, and burying the anguish, Gracie’s pained look said that after all these years, she could read him just as well as he’d read her.

For several seconds she was quiet, her eyes locked on his, then asked softly, “What was it like?”

The question threw him for a second. Aside from group therapy, and private sessions with his therapist, Roman had never spoken of his experience as a POW. Not even with his sister. No one ever asked. The physical scars pretty much spoke for themselves.

But despite their rocky past, he knew Gracie would never judge, or question his fortitude or bravery. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he just did, that despite everything that had happened between them, she genuinely cared.

So he talked.

Four

“The first few months after my rescue were almost unbearable,” Roman told her. “I couldn’t stop thinking about the men who didn’t make it out alive. The ones who were killed in front of me, in cold blood. The survivor guilt was worse than the actual torture. I would have given my life for any one of those men. The scars will never go away, but I’ve made peace with myself. It wasn’t easy, though.”

She gazed over at him, her eyes filled with pain and regret. “I used to feel as though, because of everything that happened between us, if it hadn’t been for me, you would have never joined the military in the first place. Like, maybe if I wasn’t so hard on you...if I could have forgiven you...” She shrugged. “It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, I know.”

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