Enraptured (22 page)

“I don’t want to date anyone but him,” she said honestly.

“Okay, sweetheart,” her mom said. “But ask yourself how invested you are in this relationship. Do you love him?”

Oh yes, yes she did. So much it hurt.

Jessica nodded. “I do.”

“And has he said he loves you back?”

Jessica felt as if she’d been sucker punched in the gut. A wave of nausea came over her.

“No, not yet.”

“Have you told him how you feel?” Her mother looked concerned, and Jessica’s eyes filled with unwanted tears.

God, this is the worst thing to be doing right now
. Crying over Roman. But willing herself to stop just made the tears roll down her cheeks.

“Yes, I told him.”

Her father wisely didn’t interrupt. But the look on his face said it all.

“Honey,” her mom said, sitting next to her on the bed. “You need to look at this situation objectively. Here is a very wealthy man, an older man, who probably appreciates having a pretty young girl around the house. You don’t need to tell me if you’re . . .” She paused, glancing at her husband, before whispering, “. . .
sleeping with him
.” She raised her voice back up to normal. “I don’t want to know, but I can guess. And then you tell him that you love him, because you are a sweet, loving girl. And he doesn’t say it back.”

Oh God, she was right. They were right. Roman didn’t return her feelings—what was she doing staying with him when it would only end up with him kicking her to the curb? He’d get bored with her, just like he did with every other submissive who’d ever entered his life.

“Jessie,” her dad said, sighing. “We’re only saying this because we’re concerned. We love you. And we say it. A man who doesn’t say that back to you, that’s not an accident. I can tell you how men think. You don’t get it, how men think when they look at a girl like you.”

“I get it, Dad, stop.”

“You still see everything through rose-colored glasses,” he argued. “You’re wearing diamond earrings, for crying out loud. Diamonds. That blouse looks like it cost more than your entire year’s clothing allowance growing up. What’s going to happen to your college career when he changes his mind and refuses to keep paying your tuition?”

“I’ll get a student loan,” she mumbled.

“And where will you live?” her mother asked. “You know how hard it was to find that apartment, and you could barely afford it. All the dorms are full in the middle of a semester. Come home, honey. You can stay with us and go to the University of Colorado, in Denver. It’s so close you can easily commute.”

Jessica stood from the bed. “I love you guys, and I appreciate that you’re looking out for me. But I need to stay. I
want
to stay here, with Roman. And if it doesn’t work out, I’ll come home. But I won’t just leave him now, for no reason.”

“I’m sure he’ll let you keep the gifts,” her mother said quietly. “Even if you left. Living with people who love you, really
love
you, is so important, Jessie.”

Jessica shook her head, fighting back a fresh onslaught of tears. She didn’t care about the gifts, not anymore. All she cared about was having Roman love her.

And if he doesn’t?

Her dad set his drink on the dresser-top, next to her mother’s purse. It was an old purse. Maybe she could use Roman’s credit card to buy her a new one.

“Jessie,” her dad said, “please listen to reason, for once. We don’t want you to get hurt.”

At this, Jessica laughed, a dry laugh. “Maybe I want to get hurt. Maybe I’m weird like that.” She shook her head. “I’ll see you both at dinner. Daddy, wear a tie.”

She closed the door quietly behind her, determined not to slam it shut like a teenager would, as much as she wanted to.

She had to talk to Roman.

“S
ir,” Jessica whispered as she entered their master suite and closed the door behind her, locking it for privacy. Roman was lying on his back with his eyes open, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t turn to look at her, as if he was lost in thought, in his own world.

She knelt by the side of the bed, waiting for him to acknowledge her.

Roman sat up and ran his hand over her hair, cupping her chin.

“I love you, sir,” she said. “I need you to know that. And . . . I’d like to know how you feel, even if it’s not what I want to hear.”

Roman seemed taken aback, silent. Oh God, he wasn’t answering. A tear rolled down her cheek.

“That’s what I thought,” she whispered, and began to rise.

“Don’t go,” he said softly. “You are mine. My slave. You wear my collar, whether it’s around your neck or not. Is that true?”

“Yes, sir.”

“This is . . . It’s hard for me, Jessica.” He took her by the shoulders and helped her up onto the bed. “Your parents’ disapproval is making me question my motives for keeping you as my own. It’s selfish of me—I can see that.”

“What? Why?”

“I know what your father thinks. But the fact is, I care about you very much.”

Care. Just . . . care. Not love. Never had a kind word hurt her so much.

“I suppose I don’t need anything more than that,” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder, staring straight ahead. “As long as I can be yours, I shouldn’t need to have claim over your heart as well.”

“My heart has been broken before,” Roman said. “I . . . I never want to have that happen again. I’d die.”

“People don’t really die of broken hearts,” she said. “They just wish they would.”

“That sounds about right.” He wrapped his arm around her, and she nestled in against his muscular chest.

“What’s the worst that could happen, sir? If you let yourself fall in love with me, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”

He paused, as if considering every scenario. “You could leave me. It would destroy me.”

“I don’t have that power over you, sir. I don’t.”

Roman took her face in his hand again, a very dominant caress that left her breathless, needy. He kissed her lips, murmuring against them. “You do.”

“I suppose if I have to talk you into loving me, there’s no point.”

Roman winced as if she’d slapped him. “Please don’t give up on me. I’m trying.”

“You shouldn’t have to
try
to love me, Roman. It shouldn’t be so hard.”

He looked away, but she swore she saw the glint of a tear in his eye.

“You’re right,” he said. “But it is hard. Loving you is . . . It’s very hard for me. That’s not what you want to hear, I know, but it’s how it is.”

Oh God. So this was how it would end.

Not with a fight, a match of wills, or a backlash against his all-encompassing dominance, but merely a slow, sinking realization that she loved him, and he never would love her back.

Their relationship, everything they’d built between them, would not crash around her like a building in an earthquake, the way she feared. Instead, it was ending like this . . . so softly, so quickly, like smoke dissipating in the air.

As if what they had never existed.

Because no matter how hard she loved him, if he was unable to love her back . . . then perhaps it had never existed after all, other than in her own imagination. Her own fantasies.

That was how it had started, and that was how it would end. With Roman loving her in her dreams alone.

“I have some thinking to do,” he whispered. “Will you . . . will you give me some time to be alone?”

Alone. She’d pushed him to this.

“Of course, sir.” She took a shaky breath. Forced a smile to hide the hurt. “I’ll see you at dinner, right?”

He nodded. “Wear the purple dress.”

Jessica knelt at his feet again, and kissed his foot, warm and clean in a black sock. He never asked her to kiss his foot, but it was an urge she often had, to let him feel her devotion to him. It was all she had to offer, when he gave her so much.

“Thank you, sir.”

She waited until she left their room—

(his room)

—before she let the tears fall.

D
inner went better than Roman had expected. They all met in the dining room, and Mrs. Marsh served them an enticing four-course meal, including dark-chocolate ganache with raspberries for dessert and port wine, from which Jessica abstained for her parents’ sake.

Roman asked Mr. and Mrs. Vaughn tons of questions about their interests, which kept the conversation flowing. Amazingly, Mr. Vaughn refrained from any snarky remarks.

If anyone noticed that Roman and Jessica could barely glance at each other, they didn’t mention it.

After dinner, Roman offered Mr. Vaughn a cigar, and they went outside to smoke on the deck while Mrs. Marsh tried to keep Jessica’s mom from helping to clear the table.

“It’s a good cigar,” her father said, puffing on it. “My wife hates it when I smoke ’em, but I think she’s going easy on me this week.”

“Well, it is your vacation, after all,” Roman said amiably.

A lifetime of putting on a show of limited social grace made playing the part of the happy host easier than he’d imagined. Despite the emotions fighting within him, despite his despair that he might be . . . broken. Broken inside, in such a way that Jessica would never be able to understand. She deserved better than him. She deserved happiness, and love—love without restraint.

Love like her parents gave her as they protected their daughter the way lions protect their cubs. Fiercely, without regret.

“Perhaps,” Roman continued, “tomorrow you two would like to take a tour of Manhattan, see the sights.”

“Yeah. I prefer the mountains myself, but I wouldn’t mind visiting the Statue of Liberty while we’re here. What are your intentions with my daughter, Roman?”

The question came so fast, slipped in like that, and caught Roman completely off guard.

“I have no ill intentions, sir.”

“That’s not what I asked. Ill intentions. Huh.” He grunted and took another puff of the cigar.

“I mean—Mr. Vaughn, my intentions are good.”

“Are you talking marriage? Because she’s only twenty.”

His first instinct was to rush to say no, that he wasn’t the type to get married, but something stopped him.

“This is probably a conversation that I should have with Jessica, sir.”

“It’s customary to ask the father for his blessing first.”

Roman smirked. “Would you give it?”

“No.”

The men looked out at the lawn, at the trees, and the array of stars in the sky, silently smoking. Thinking.

“Mr. Vaughn, we both want the same thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“For Jessica to be happy.”

“That’s true,” her father agreed with a sigh.

“Then I think that’s your blessing, right there.” Roman looked at him and shrugged.

Mr. Vaughn surprised him by laughing. “I can see why you’re such a successful businessman. You don’t take no for an answer.”

Roman smiled. “Let’s go see what the ladies are up to.”

J
essica spent the week with her parents, showing them around, trying to enjoy spending time with them without letting them know that her heart was breaking. That she was already mourning the loss of Roman, because he had indeed pulled away.

Not in any way that her parents could see, but she could feel it. Roman was warm and friendly around her, and for a man who had always appeared serious and intimidating, he was going out of his way to let go of his hard exterior and get her parents to warm up to him—to them. Their relationship.