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Authors: Carly Phillips

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BOOK: The Bachelor
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“But at least Raina lived some version of happily ever after.” Charlotte’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

Her words gave him pause. Was that fairy-tale ending women wanted worth anything if the rest of their lives were spent in
unhappy limbo? In his mother’s case, short-term happiness at the expense of long-term fulfillment? In Charlotte’s mother’s
situation, chasing a fantasy that would never come true? He shook his head, neither choice appealing to him.

He’d watched his mother after his father died, the mourning, the withdrawal, and then the small steps back into the real world.
But she’d never fully been what she was with his father, and she hadn’t tried to redefine herself either.

Her choice, he realized. Just as it had been his choice to take off and distance himself from not only his hometown, but his
family—and the pain he saw in his mother’s eyes each time he was home. Especially in the beginning.

At that moment, Roman realized he’d been running from emotional attachment—the same way Charlotte was running from him. She
feared the same pain she’d grown up seeing in her mother, day in and day out.

But making love to her had shown him that when it came to some things in life, there was no alternative.
They
were meant to be. Not just because he desired her but because he wanted to give her things she’d missed in life, the family
and the love. How he’d accomplish that and still maintain the freedom he needed for his job and his life, he didn’t know.

He had a long road ahead of him—to prove to himself and to her that his lifestyle could satisfy them
both.
That their lives didn’t have to be a repeat of their parents’ mistakes but one of their own making.

And that meant commitment, he realized now. Not just the commitment he promised his family he’d make, but one he wanted to
make with this woman.

He looked into her soft eyes and something inside him melted. “Is happily ever after what you want?” he asked.

“Is it what you don’t want?” she shot back.

“Touché.” He stroked a finger down her cheek.

Poor Charlotte. She had no idea he’d figured out both himself and her. He knew what he wanted—her. He was about to storm her
defenses and she hadn’t a clue. “I notice you changed the subject earlier. I wanted to talk about ‘my’ women.”

Her face flushed a charming shade of pink. “I don’t.”

“So once again, you don’t have to talk. But you are going to listen.” In one smooth move, he had her flat on her back, straddling
her hips.

She scowled up at him. “You play dirty and you forgot to order my food,” she said.

“You finish this conversation and I’ll get you all the cookies you can eat and
more.
” He moved his hips against hers, deliberately provocative and hot.

“That’s bribery.” But her eyes glazed over, letting him know she was enticed by his erotic teasing. Her stomach chose that
second to grumble loudly, killing the mood. She grinned sheepishly. “I suppose I have no choice but to listen if I want to
eat.”

“I suppose you’re right.” But he wasn’t above a little erotic coercion to get his way. He settled his weight so as not to
crush her, but so he could feel her supple curves and smooth flesh. Damn, but she felt good. “Just hear me out,” he said,
refusing to be distracted. Not when so much was on the line. “Number one, my life’s been so busy women rarely factored into
the equation—believe it or not. And I promised you I’d never lie. Number two, I may not have gotten involved before, but I
sure as hell am now.”

He shocked himself and obviously shocked her by the admission, because silence descended around them.

Something akin to fear shimmered in her eyes. “You said you’d never lie.”

“This time I think I should be insulted.”

She shook her head. “I’m not calling you a liar.”

“Then what?”

“Don’t make this”—she gestured between their naked bodies—“out to be more than it really is.”

“Oh, and what exactly is
this?
” he asked, because he needed to hear exactly what he was up against when it came to turning her thinking around.

“Sex,” she said, deliberately trivializing what they had shared.

As much as Roman recognized the protective mechanism, he couldn’t say she hadn’t hurt him. He forced an easy laugh. “Good
thing you never made that promise not to lie, sweetheart.”

With those words, he let her know he didn’t believe one word she’d uttered, and this time she sucked in a deep breath, realizing
she’d been caught.

He inhaled deeply. The scent of sex did hover in the air, arousing him and making him want her despite her stubborn minimizing
of what they’d shared. He’d already made his point. Together they’d experienced something much deeper than just sex.

He nudged her legs apart with his knees.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“You said you’re hungry, yes?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “You also said what’s between us is just sex.” He nudged the head
of his enlarged penis between her legs and entered her slowly, methodically, with a slick, thick stroke she couldn’t help
but
feel.
He sure as hell did.

Her lips parted and her eyes dilated as she took him inside.

What was he doing? she’d asked. “I’m going to make you eat your words.” He was going to make her experience every taste, touch,
and sensation so that he’d always be a part of her. He was going to prove to her that everything between them was deep and
meaningful.

His powerful strokes inside her body elicited a response he couldn’t mistake. One she couldn’t either, if the arousing sounds
coming from her were anything to go by.

Every moan that passed her lips settled inside him and brought a stinging sensation to his eyes, a thick lump in his throat.

And later, as she lay asleep in his arms, he knew she’d become a part of him too. Or maybe, he thought, she always had been.

 

The next day, the sun had long ago dipped below the horizon, an orange ball of fire in the reddened sky, when Roman drove
them back into town. Charlotte’s stomach plummeted. She wasn’t ready to end their time together so soon.

After that one serious conversation that got them nowhere, things had lightened up. They’d made love, hand-fed each other
homemade cookies, slept in each other’s arms, and woke in time for the sunrise. They’d had a picnic lunch outside on the beautiful
premises, then shared dinner with the Innsbrooks before returning to the room to make love one more time before they left
The Inn for good.

Perhaps Roman’s melancholy matched hers, because they rode home in silence. By the time he walked her to her apartment, her
stomach was in twisted knots.

She wasn’t ready to say good-bye. “I wonder if there were any break-ins last night,” she said, looking to prolong his time
with her.

“Not that I wish it on anyone, but it would definitely get me off the hook with the women in this town.” His blue eyes glittered
in amusement. “I have an alibi.”

She smiled. “Yeah. I know what you mean. If no one knows you left town, the thief can’t use you as his shield— if that was
his intent after the article.” She shrugged.

“Only Mom and my brothers know I was out of town, so we’ll see what happens.”

Her mother knew too, but since she rarely left the house to socialize, there was no chance of her disclosing the news. “Breaking
into houses and stealing panties,” Charlotte said with a shake of her head.

A blush stained his cheeks and she raised a hand to touch him one more time. As her fingertips lightly stroked his roughened
cheek, he met and held her gaze. Knowledge glittered in those intelligent blue eyes and she pulled back, embarrassed by her
simple display of affection that gave away too much of her feelings.

“This is more serious than a juvenile prank,” she said, keeping things between them light. “No one in their right mind would
blame you. The whole idea of panty theft is ridiculous.”

He shrugged, drawing her gaze to his black T-shirt and the tight muscles beneath. “You never know what’s going to turn a man
on. A strange man, anyway.”

She nodded, then swallowed hard. Silence surrounded them. No noises sounded from the other apartments or the street below.
Nothing remained but to say so long. “So …”

“So.”

“Will I see you again?” She mentally kicked herself as soon as the words escaped. That should have been
his
line.

“Why? Looking for more sex?” he asked, a wry smile on his lips.

She scowled, his words hitting like a punch in the stomach. She’d regretted the defensive words as soon as they’d escaped
her lips. Now she knew how she’d made him feel. “I suppose I deserved that.”

She’d obviously hurt him when she’d classified their relationship that way. She hadn’t meant to, had merely been looking to
protect herself. As a means of defense, words were too little, too late, anyway.

He reached out and cupped her chin in his hand. “I just don’t want you to shut me out with remarks like that. Open your mind
and see where things lead.”

Charlotte already knew the outcome. She’d end up in Yorkshire Falls while he traveled abroad. End of discussion, end of relationship.

But he didn’t seem in any rush to reach that inevitable conclusion, didn’t seem to be leaving town anytime soon. So why borrow
trouble by arguing with him? She summoned a smile. “I suppose I can manage that.”

“She says too lightly.”

“Come on, let’s not ruin a spectacular weekend by arguing, okay?”

He stepped closer. “I was spectacular, huh?”

His masculine scent wrapped around her, became a part of her, and her heartbeat kicked into high gear. “I meant the weekend
was spectacular.”

His arm came to rest above her head and his lips came within kissing distance. “And I?”

“You were even better,” she murmured as his mouth touched hers. The kiss was too light, too fast, and over too soon. He left
her wanting more, which, she supposed, was the point he’d intended to make.

“You will see me again.” He grabbed her key from her hand, opened the door, and let her inside.

By the time she turned back, he was gone.

CHAPTER NINE

R
oman walked into an unlocked house and tossed his keys onto the counter. The darkened rooms and absolute silence told him
his mother wasn’t home. He muttered a curse. You’d think the woman had more sense than to be careless, with a thief on the
loose. Then again, she probably thought the panty thief business was a joke—along with half the women in this town.

“Ridiculous.” Tomorrow morning he’d touch base with Rick and find out what, if any, break-ins had occurred last night.

But for now, he needed sleep. God knew he’d gotten none last night, and the memory of why was enough to set him off once again.
He made his way into his old childhood room, dumped his bag onto the floor, and headed for the bathroom.

He set the shower water on cold, but it didn’t help ease the ache Charlotte inspired. He’d showered with her earlier today
and he vividly remembered coming inside her, water pelting them from all sides. The spray hit his skin now, but not even this
ice-cold dousing could cool him off.

He was tired and aroused all at the same time and when he walked into his room, he was so exhausted he didn’t even turn on
the lights. Only one thought cruised through his mind. After his time with Charlotte, his life and future had changed, and
not just because of a family promise.

He had decisions to make, but first he needed sleep. He crawled into bed. His head hit the cool sheets, his back eased into
the mattress, and his body came into contact with warm, soft flesh.

“Holy shit.” Roman jerked back and bolted upright in the bed. “Who the hell’s there?”

He jumped out of bed and started for the door, intending to hit the switch on the wall so he could shed light on the intruder.

“That’s not the reaction I expected, but I suppose a girl has to start somewhere. Now get back into bed and I’ll show you
what I brought for you.” The voice sounded more feline than female.

Considering Roman definitely felt like trapped prey, the analogy made perfect sense. The sound of a hand patting the mattress
echoed around him.

He flicked on the light and was greeted by the grotesque sight of Alice Magregor, her frizzy hair overwaxed and oversprayed,
and her body stuffed into Charlotte’s infamous panties. It was a body Roman wouldn’t touch in drunken stupor, and he was stone
cold sober now. More’s the pity.

“Oh, you don’t sleep naked.”

She pouted in a way that turned his stomach.

“Never mind. I’ll take care of that. Now turn out the light and get back into bed.” She arched and preened, stretching her
hand across his pillow.

Damn, he’d have to change the sheets before getting some sleep. He clenched his jaw, her invasion of his privacy unwanted
and unwelcome. “I’m going to turn around and let you get decent. Then I’m going to pretend this never happened and you’re
going to do the same.”

She didn’t flinch, and before he could turn, she said, “Don’t tell me you aren’t interested. I flashed you a sign the other
day and you smiled at me.”

“You’ve got your facts out of order. I smiled before you flashed your panties.”

“You journalists and your facts. It all means the same thing. You smiled. You showed interest. Now come to bed.”

Whether she was being deliberately dense or pitifully stupid, he couldn’t say. “We live in a small town, Alice. I was being
neighborly. Now get dressed.” He crossed his arms and turned away. He leaned against the doorframe, unable to believe Alice
Magregor was naked in his bed.

Being cruel wasn’t his style, but damned if he was going to humor her or give her any indication he wanted something like
this to happen again. If the house had been locked, it couldn’t have happened in the first place. His mother was in for one
hell of a lecture on safety. She couldn’t be so darn trusting any longer. Thanks to her false sense of security, she’d left
the house open, her panties in danger of being stolen, and his body in danger of being violated, if Alice had her way.

BOOK: The Bachelor
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