“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.
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