THE NEXT MORNING, Roman threw a duffel bag into the trunk of his car. He checked his watch—6:57. Grace came around the corner, wearing jeans and a lightweight pink sweater, not her usual business attire. She looked ready to travel with her small suitcase, backpack, pink tote bag, and purse. He stowed the suitcase and tote bag. Taking the backpack, he grimaced. “What do you have in this thing? Bricks?”
“My laptop and a couple of textbooks.”
Roman arranged the suitcase and duffel bag to protect her backpack. Grace was in the passenger seat before he could play gentleman and open the door for her. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he looked at her. “We don’t need a map.” He put his finger on the ignition and the engine roared to life. “The car has GPS.”
“I like maps. I know it’s a little old-fashioned.” She lifted her shoulders.
“A little?” He grinned.
“I just want to see the big picture and know where we’re going and how we’re going to get there.”
“Have your life all planned out, you mean.”
“I haven’t had much luck with that.”
When she looked away, he got the message. Don’t ask. “Okay. We’ll do it your way. I’ll drive. You navigate.”
She looked surprised. “You’re sure?”
“If you get us lost, GPS will find us.” He didn’t tell her he already knew how he wanted to get where they were going. The long way.
“If you want to get to Golden by this afternoon, we should take the freeway.”
“I hate freeways.”
She looked at the map and suggested the coast highway rather than head inland to the city and then north. She’d been nervous about this trip yesterday, but seemed relaxed, even eager, this morning. “What changed your mind?”
“About what?” She refolded the map as he drove toward Malibu.
“Coming on this road trip with me.”
She looked at him. “You didn’t call it a road trip. You said it was strictly business.”
“Take it easy. I’m not kidnapping you.”
“Are we going to Golden or not?”
“We’ll get there.” He nodded to the map in her hand. “Find Ojai.”
Frowning slightly, she refocused on the map.
Roman glanced at Grace. She was looking out the car window. She’d hardly spoken on the drive to Ojai. Was he getting the silent treatment? Roman wondered what she was thinking, but didn’t dare ask. He had tricked her. She didn’t know the full extent yet. “Have you been to Ojai?”
Her smile was relaxed. “I’d never driven through Ventura until today.”
Surprised, he gave her a quick look before he pulled into a parking space on Ojai Avenue. “We’ll check out a few galleries after breakfast. Might be good to see what other people are selling.” He was also curious what would catch her eye. He knew she didn’t care for his work.
He found a café on a side street near the Arcade. The hostess seated them by the window. Grace thanked her. Tucking her purse under her chair, she looked across at him. “Is something wrong?”
“Not at all. I’m just beginning to realize how little I know about you.”
“I could say the same.”
“Where were you born?”
She leaned back, studying him. For a moment, he didn’t think she’d tell him. “Memphis, Tennessee. What about you?”
“San Francisco. Do you have family in Memphis?”
Her expression clouded. “I was young when my parents died. My aunt brought me to Fresno when I was seven. Are your parents in San Francisco?”
She didn’t want to talk about her parents, which made him curious how they’d died. Better to answer her question before asking another. “You and I have something in common. I was seven the last time I saw my mother. She went out one night and never came back. CPS took over after she disappeared. I moved around a lot.” A slight understatement. He couldn’t even remember all the foster homes he’d run away from.
Roman had just told her more about his past than he’d ever told a woman. Thankfully, she didn’t look at him with pity. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking. He gave in to curiosity. “How’d your parents die?”
She let out her breath softly and avoided his perusal. He knew she wasn’t going to tell him when the waitress arrived with their coffee and asked if they were ready to order. Roman said they needed a few more minutes. Grace avoided further conversation by hiding behind the menu. The waitress returned and took their orders. Grace faced him again, expression enigmatic. “When did you decide to become an artist?”
She didn’t want to talk about her parents. Okay. “I didn’t decide. It just happened. A teacher caught me doodling in class and said he’d accept drawings in lieu of incomplete homework assignments.”
“You told me you tagged buildings. Were you in a gang?”
He smiled slightly. “Quid pro quo.” He’d answered her questions. She shook her head.
Breakfast was a quiet affair.
On the way out of the restaurant, Roman paused at a display of tourist brochures. “Let’s take a walk.” Grace fell into step beside him. He found the first gallery around the corner from the Arcade. Roman wandered, taking note of where Grace lingered. She liked seascapes, landscapes, watercolors. No wonder she didn’t like his work. But then, neither did he.
She must have felt him looking at her because she turned. “Time to go?” They headed for the car.
Roman felt edgy when she stayed silent as he drove. He’d never had a problem getting a conversation started with a woman. He stopped at a coffee shop in Ventucopa. “I need a caffeine break. How about you?” Grace asked for a latte. She talked with a woman at the bakery counter. He had to wait for the coffees, and saw there was no lull in Grace’s conversation. She glanced over when he collected their order. The women exchanged a few more words, and Grace touched her arm before joining him.
He handed her the latte. “You don’t have any trouble making friends, do you?” He wished she’d be that open and friendly with him.
“Veronica says the wildflowers are still in bloom on the Carrizo Plain.”
Veronica. Grace probably knew the woman’s entire family history.
Back on the road, she talked more. Her aunt had been a career woman and didn’t enjoy travel. “We had to take several connecting flights from Memphis to Fresno. It’s the only time I’ve ever been in an airplane.”
Roman told her about flying to Rome and traveling around Europe on a motorcycle. The more he talked, the more relaxed she looked.
“You’ve visited places I’ll only see on the Travel Channel.”
He looked at her. “You never know.”
“Did you study art in Europe?”
“I never studied anywhere. Formally, anyway.” He eased off the gas as he went around a curve. “I never did well in an environment where someone was telling me what to do or how to think.”
“Talia said you don’t follow rules. Maybe that’s why people like your work so much.”
“But not you.”
“I don’t matter.” She looked away and gasped. “Stop!”
Roman slammed on the brakes, sure he was about to hit something. The car fishtailed. He corrected and pulled onto the side of the road. He uttered a foul word. “What’d I hit?”
“Nothing. I’m sorry I startled you.” She opened the car door.
“Where are you going?”
“Roman, look around you!” She laughed, her face radiant.
The hillsides were covered in purple, yellow, and orange wildflowers. He gave them a cursory glance, and watched her picking her way into the field. She looked around in wonder and then back at him. “Veronica was right. Have you driven this way before?”
“Once.” He hadn’t chosen this route to see the color-splashed hillsides. “It’ll be over in a few weeks.”
“Then it’s perfect timing we’re here now.” She spread her arms. “Look what God can do with weeds.”
God again.
She kept walking farther into the field. She bent to pick something up and tucked it in her pocket. He took out his phone and snapped a picture of her standing among the lupines and poppies. Leaning against his car, he took several more. He pocketed the phone when she headed back.
She looked at him. “I guess you want to get going again.”
“We’re in no hurry.” She was showing him a world he’d never noticed. “Why don’t we stop in Fresno for the night? I can meet your aunt.”
The joy left her face. “Aunt Elizabeth doesn’t like surprises.”
“I take it you don’t get along.”
“We get along. I call her twice a month and visit whenever I can.”
Roman hadn’t noticed any older women showing up at the cottage, and Grace hadn’t mentioned going on any trips, short or long. “Give her a call. We can swing by on the way back.” He wanted to meet the woman. The aunt might also be more forthcoming with information.
Grace didn’t take her phone out of her purse.
After a couple more hours on the road, they stopped for a late lunch in Lemoore. The time passed pleasantly enough, even if Grace was less than open with personal details about her past. When they returned to the car, Roman sensed Grace’s tension. She barely talked as they approached Fresno. He had a dozen questions he wanted to ask, but knew better. He merged onto 99, heading north out of Fresno. Her body relaxed. She took a breath and let it out slowly. He glanced over, but she avoided eye contact.
Roman touched the car computer screen and did a search of Merced hotels with pools. After a day in the car, it’d be nice to swim some laps. “Did you bring a swimming suit?” The look she gave him was answer enough. Roman used the voice activation system to ask for directions to a sporting goods store. “I’ll buy you a suit.” When Grace protested, he cut her off. “You can pick it out or I will, and I’m paying for it. I’m hot, I’m tired, and I want to swim.”
“I’m your personal assistant, Roman, not your lifeguard.”
“You need to cool off as much as I do.” He pulled into a shopping mall and parked. “Come on.”
When they got into the store, Grace meandered until he looked pointedly at a neon-pink two-piece on a mannequin and grinned. She quickly found a functional black one-piece suit. He couldn’t resist needling. “Chicken.”
He paid for the suit before he realized she’d opened her purse and pulled out her wallet. She didn’t thank him or even look at him on the way to the car. Roman glanced at her when he got in and saw the hot blush that had climbed up her neck and filled her face. Why was she so embarrassed? “It’s not lingerie, Grace.”
Roman told the hotel clerk they needed two rooms, on separate floors. As soon as the clerk handed Grace a key card, she shouldered her backpack, lifted her suitcase and tote bag, and headed for the elevator. He stopped the door just before it closed. “I’ll see you at the pool in twenty minutes.”
“Yes, sir.” She glared at him. “Are you getting in?”
“I think I’d better wait.” He let go of the door and stepped back as she punched the button. What had he done wrong?
He thought he’d be alone with Grace in the pool and they could talk. Kids were everywhere! Muttering a curse under his breath, Roman opened the gate. He could forget about swimming laps. Three women sat on the pool steps. Grace wasn’t one of them. Pulling off his T-shirt, Roman tossed it with his towel on a vacant chaise lounge. The three women looked at him. The freestyle tribal tattoo he designed to be wrapped around his rib cage and chest usually drew attention. He’d suffered hours of pain and paid thousands of dollars to get inked. He wouldn’t be wasting time and money again.
Roman spotted Grace in the deep end, batting a beach ball back to a child in the shallow end. He found free space and dove in. Staying under, he headed for her. It was worth the chlorine burn to see Grace underwater. She had legs like a ballet dancer and more curves than he’d imagined. When he came up right in front of her, she pulled back, startled. Her dark hair was wet and slicked against her head; her pale shoulders glistened.
Raking his hair back, Roman grinned at her. “The water feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.” She put a little more distance between them. “You were right.” She gave him an impish smile. “But you’re going to have a hard time doing laps.”
“I gave up on that idea when I came out the door.” He moved closer again. “How about a game of Marco Polo?”
“It’s against the rules.”
“Rules are made to be broken, Grace.”
Her eyes flickered. “Not by me, and certainly not with my boss.” She swam away.
He shouldn’t have flirted with her. She was going to be even more uptight with him now. She walked up the steps and sat near a woman holding a toddler on her lap. They fell into easy conversation. Children swarmed the deep end. One tossed a ball at him. He caught it in one hand and tossed it back. “Let the man do his laps,” the woman sitting with Grace called out to them. When they kept getting in the way, she called them to the shallows, gathered her brood, and headed for the gate.
Grace was back in the pool, but keeping her distance. When she lifted herself onto the side, he swam over. Crossing his arms on the edge of the pool, he smiled up at her. “You look cooled off.”
“I’m sorry I got mad.”
“I didn’t intend to embarrass you. It was my idea to swim, and right that I paid for the suit. It’s no big deal, Grace. I wasn’t expecting anything in return.” Shut up, you idiot. He raised himself and sat beside her. Unlike other women he’d met, she didn’t look at his body. She looked away, then straight ahead. “We’re going to Yosemite tomorrow.” That brought her head around.
“What about Golden?”
“It’s not going anywhere. Have you ever been to Yosemite?”
“No, but—”
“If you think wildflowers are something, wait until you see Half Dome.” He curved his hand over the edge of the pool, as close to hers as he could get without touching her. She moved her hand away. She looked uncomfortable. He stood and held out his hand. “Let’s get dressed and find a place to eat.” She hesitated before accepting his help. Her hand was cold, and she shivered. Roman grabbed his towel from the chaise lounge and swung it around her. “What time do you want to go out to dinner?” He took another towel from the pile by the gate.
“Whenever you want.”
He looked at her. “I’m starving right now.” And not just for food. “How soon can you be ready?”
Half an hour later, Roman sat in the lobby, waiting. Grace came out of the elevator, back in uniform: black slacks, loose button-up white blouse, a single strand of pearls, and low black heels. Classic, professional. Was she trying to remind him this trip was supposed to be strictly business?
The hotel clerk had given him directions to a nice steak house. Roman gave the host a twenty to seat them in a quiet booth. When they were offered drinks, Grace asked for water. If he wasn’t the one driving, he’d have ordered a Scotch, maybe two. He was beginning to feel as tense as she looked. When he picked up the wine list, she turned her glass over.
“Okay.” He dropped it on the table and studied her. “What’s wrong?”
“How long are we going to be gone, Roman?”
Was that all that was worrying her, or was there more? “We’ll be back by Friday. We can swing by and pick up your son on the way home. It’ll save you the trip back to wherever he is when he’s not with you.” Her expression altered, like a veil dropping over her face. “Is that a problem?”
“It’s not on the way.”
He’d wait. Maybe she’d trust him enough to talk about what was going on in her life. Then again, how much of his own was he willing to share? He didn’t want to talk about his past. Maybe he should. Maybe that would open her up as well. Aside from the growing attraction, something else was happening here. He didn’t want to back away this time. Why not take Jasper’s advice for a change and see what happened?
She looked ready to take the bus home.
“Try not to worry, Grace. This is more about me than you.” A lie. “I needed to get out of the studio for a while, to think.” True. “And since you told me you haven’t seen much, I thought why not see something on the way.” He’d been to Yosemite Valley and Half Dome, but he’d never gone over Tioga Pass or down to Mono Lake. “Have you ever been to Bodie?”
“Bodie?” She shook her head. “I’ve never been anywhere.”
She’d told him that. He just wanted her to remember. He’d read a few brochures in the hotel tourist information rack while waiting for her to come downstairs. “It’s a ghost town ten miles off the highway.” He spent the next few minutes telling her everything he remembered from the brochure. He was beginning to sound like a travel agent trying to sell a tour.
Grace didn’t look like she wanted him as guide. “That’s a lot of miles to cover in a couple of days.”
“We have time. Let’s enjoy the ride.”
She put her hand on the table as though bracing herself. “Why are we really on this trip, Roman?”
He let out his breath slowly and leaned back, surveying her. “I don’t know. I want more, I guess.” He smiled slightly, trying to ease the worry flickering in her eyes. “More life. I want whatever it is you have that makes you see what I miss.”
She didn’t say anything, but her face softened as she searched his. “When I started working for you, I had the distinct impression you wanted convenience without complications.”
“And you think getting to know one another would complicate our relationship?”
“I hope not.”
He hadn’t expected to feel hurt. Was she worried about what Prince Charming might think? Why was he working so hard to get close to this woman? Roman signaled the waiter.
“Ready to order, sir?”
Roman looked to Grace for an answer. Without opening the menu, she ordered a salad. Annoyed, Roman asked the waiter to give them another minute. He leaned forward. “I didn’t bring you to a steak house so you could have a dinner salad.”
She gasped. “You’re impossible.” She leaned forward, too. “It’s a waste of money to buy a steak I can’t eat.”
“Oh. You’re a vegetarian.”
“No, but I’m not a glutton either.”
At least he’d gotten a rise out of her. “Eat what you can.” He signaled the waiter again. The man approached cautiously.
Roman didn’t know where to pick up the conversation after that tirade.
She was looking at him again, but her anger had already dissipated. “You’re impossible to read. Do you know that?”
He gave a bleak laugh. “You’re telling me that?” There was something new in her expression. “What?”
She bowed her head, smoothing the napkin on her lap. “I’m not sure what you want from me.”
Neither was he, but she’d unlocked the gate. He could hear Jasper’s voice in his head. Don’t push. Wait to be invited in. He’d had only three friends growing up, all dead before they turned eighteen. The responsibility for one could be laid at his feet. Maybe that was the reason he’d never gotten close to anyone since. And never a woman. Jasper Hawley had his theories about Bobby Ray Dean’s reasons. Roman didn’t want to know.
“I’d like to find out if we can be friends.”
Grace sat at the desk in her hotel room, responding to Shanice’s text asking how the road trip was going.
He wants to find out if we can be friends.
And you said?
I didn’t say no. He’s been different since we left Topanga Canyon.
Different how?
I don’t know exactly. We’ve been talking more.
Talking about what?
Places he’s seen. He had a motorcycle and rode all over Europe. He has a tattoo wrapped around his rib cage and up onto his chest.
And you know this how?!?
We went swimming at the hotel. Lots of moms and kids. Don’t worry. My room is on a different floor. He’s been a gentleman. Most of the time. He can still be aggravating and rude.
Should I be worried about you? Don’t forget Brian.
Grace had forgotten all about Brian. That wasn’t a good sign. She thumbed a response. Nothing has changed in that regard. I’d better get back to studying.
OK. I’ll check in with you again. Be careful.
Tonight, over dinner, Grace had caught a glimpse of Roman she hadn’t seen before. Vulnerability. It surprised her because he’d always come across as a man who knew exactly who he was and how to get what he wanted. Was he playing with her? She didn’t need Shanice to tell her to be careful. It had become her natural inclination.
Whatever Roman’s real intent, she should get to know him. Maybe there was more to the man than what she already knew. Until this evening, she thought he was a cynical, discontented loner driven to succeed. He worked hard, made a truckload of money from his art and investments, and used some to buy himself a fortress.
Roman Velasco was certainly no knight in shining armor. Oh, he had armor, all right, and cannons aimed at anyone who dared intrude. He went out occasionally to dally with a peasant girl. She’d learned about a man’s physical needs from Patrick. Roman would have as little trouble as Patrick finding a willing girl.
She had learned from her marriage to Patrick that she didn’t know what went on in men’s minds. Sometimes she’d feel a hint something was off, that their relationship had less to do with love than with his goals. He hadn’t forced her to give up anything, but he’d known how to make her feel guilty enough to surrender all her dreams so he could attain his.
Friends she trusted had picked Brian. They knew men better than she did. And she liked Brian. She’d be able to think straight with a man like that. He wouldn’t be like Patrick: needy one moment, demanding the next. Brian felt safe.
Roman wasn’t safe. Sometimes she felt like she was in deep water with him, monsters circling and coming up from below. Lord, I don’t know if I should be friends with this man. He has only two friends—Talia Reisner and Jasper Hawley. Why is that? If this is a bad idea, let me know in a way I’ll understand. Please, Lord.
She slept fitfully, dreaming of her mother looking out the kitchen window, her face pale with tension. And then it happened again, and all the fear came rushing back. With a cry, Grace sat up in bed. Trembling, body damp with cold sweat, she listened intently, half-expecting her father to come through the door.
I’m in a hotel. It was a nightmare. Everything is all right now.
She lay back down. Pulling the blanket up, she curled on her side. She’d had the nightmare before, many times, but that was years ago, when her aunt first brought her to Fresno. What had roused it tonight? The evening with Roman? Lord, please, don’t let it start up again where it left off. Please, God.