Third Time's a Charm

Forget about making a scene, she wanted her necklace. “You will give it back,” Rose muttered and almost tripped over her dress as she started in Sasha’s direction.



A hand shot out, grabbing her by the elbow. “What’s your hurry, sugar?”



Harrison’s gray eyes narrowed as she jerked out of his grasp. “Should you be seen talking with me?” She motioned to Harrison’s wife.



Lorelei Collins held court in the middle of the ballroom, dressed as Elizabeth the First. She preened as men half her age flirted with her.



“The Queen is currently occupied with her admirers. I suspect she’ll be choosing one tonight.” Harrison’s mouth flattened. “Or two.”



Rose wanted to point out that he’d cheated on his wife with Azalea, but knew it wouldn’t do any good. “Don’t worry, I’m leaving as soon as possible.”



Harrison shook his head. “Sorry, sugar, change of plans.”



“I’ll make a scene,” she threatened, clenching her fist.



“No you won’t.” Her father tapped her nose and she flinched. “You’d rather cut off your hand than have everyone stare at you.”



He was right and she was miserable with the knowledge. “How long do I have to stay?”



Lifting his drink, he studied her over the rim. “Until the party’s over.”



“And if I don’t?”



“Your loan comes due. All of it.”



There were so many words that sprang to mind, so many retorts, but Carolina Dreams was all she had left. And she was determined to keep it open and make it prosperous. The contract with Barbara’s Bugs would have paid off her back taxes, but now she’d be able to pay back his loan with puppet strings.



“Don’t keep this beautiful lady all to yourself, Harrison.” Jason cast a wolfish smile as he came to stand beside them, his pack of friends flanking his shoulders.



Her insides crashed together and her knees threatened to give out, but she kept a calm façade behind her mask, flickering her eyes over Jason, then away. Most of the time, she found a way to avoid him and the guys he hung out with.



“My date’s waiting for me,” she said, but Harrison gave a slight shake of his head. Trapped, Rose hid her clenched fists in the folds of her skirt.



Jason winked at her. “They’re playing our song, Rose.”



Lifting her chin, she said, “We don’t have one.”



“But we could.”



“You two kids have fun.” Harrison practically threw her at Jason.



Not in this lifetime, she wanted to shout. Reluctantly, she let Jason take her by the arm, moving her to the dance floor. Her skin crawled where he touched her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gabriel head in their direction, concern plainly written on his face.



Standing on her toes, she mouthed, “I’m fine.”



Gabriel crossed his arms and waited at the edge of the dance floor.



“Smile.” Jason’s hand moved to the curve of her hip and she wanted to vomit.



“No.”



“I’ll rip off your mask if you don’t,” he said pleasantly.



“And risk your sterling reputation? We both know that’s not going to happen.” She focused on a point over his shoulder, staring at the image of a redheaded woman in amethyst slowly decaying until it blurred.



“Maybe I like taking risks.”



She jerked her gaze back to his, his sky blue eyes bright. Deceiving. Those—along with his smile—made people trust him, made them think he was sincere. Heck, it had made her believe Jason had been different from the rest. “Not interested.”



“Do you remember our last night together?”



When he collected money on a bet, after breaking up with her in a crowded restaurant? She scowled at him behind her mask.



He chuckled, “Not then. The night before, when I took you to The Pointe.”



She remained silent. Dancing with him was one thing, but engaging in painful conversation was quite another.



He bent his dark head, his breath hot against her ear. “I bent you over the hood of my car, and—”



Rose focused on the portrait again, humming in her mind to drown out his words. It was supposed to have been a romantic evening with music, dancing under the moonlight and a picnic dinner by the sound. Instead all he’d brought was a box of wine, subs from one of those chain restaurants, and played a random mix of rap, metal and bluegrass.



Afterwards it had been a repeat of every date: she and Jason having sex. Not making love. Not connecting. And she’d been too lonely, too inexperienced with men—with any man at all—to have realized it until it was too late.



“Remember?” he repeated, grinding his pelvis against her.



She clenched her teeth and silently thanked God for her heavy skirts. “No.”



He continued on as if he hadn’t heard, which in his case was entirely possible. She’d never been around a man more in love with the sound of his voice. “Now you’ve had the opportunity to gain some experience—” He nuzzled the side of her neck and she jerked her head back. “—give me, I mean, us another chance.”



Another chance to embarrass her? Another chance to tell her that if she would just let herself go during sex it would be better for them both? Not that he hadn’t made it pleasurable. He’d just acted like it was her fault she didn’t orgasm as soon as he wanted her to, and her amazingly naïve self had tried harder to please him.



Rose hated this self-berating. The constant self-doubt and mental abuse she heaped on the woman inside of her. But she was entirely grateful that something had kept her from telling him just how inexperienced she was. Heck, he would have probably taken out a front page ad in The Gazette. However, he’d barely noticed, only taking her discomfort to mean that he was extremely well-endowed. Self-centered asshole.



Her cheeks heated, and the large chandelier began to sway in the middle of the room as he turned her in time to the music.



“No,” she said, her voice only a whisper.



“Let me make it up to you.”



Rose stared at Jason. The only way he could make it up to her would be to start practicing law in Antarctica. She cleared her throat. “No.”



Jason’s eyes narrowed through the slits in his gray mask. He wore all shades of gray, some venturing into white, like he was the good guy. “Spreading your legs for Romanov makes you too good for me?”



“Yes.” No matter how much Sasha had hurt her, she wouldn’t let Jason get the last word or make her feel bad.



“Yes. No.” He squeezed her shoulder and she winced. “Are those the only two words you know?”



He’d always hated how quiet she was. According to him, it didn’t let him get to know the real her. More like it didn’t help him find her weaknesses as fast. She clamped her lips together, knowing she was irritating him even more by not speaking.



“Oh, I forgot, big words weren’t a requirement to get your G.E.D.”



Fury bubbled at his mocking words, and something wicked sprang to life inside of her. “You have the smallest penis I’ve ever seen,” she heard herself say.



The words seemed to echo around the room just as the band played the last chord. A few people gasped while others laughed. She let a small smile dance on her lips, not caring if any of the locals guessed her identity.



“Is that Rose Holland?”



“Well, if anyone should know about penis size, it’s a Holland.”



“Take it back,” he ordered.



“No.”



The purple-haired butterfly tapped Jason on the shoulder. “I won’t be available tomorrow night. Sorry.”



“Fuck you.” He stalked off, leaving Rose in the middle of the dance floor.



She wanted to give a little cheer as she carefully navigated her way through the astonished crowd, finding the nearest unoccupied corner and sinking gratefully into a convenient bench shrouded in black. She looked for Gabriel, but he was nowhere to be found.



“Do you think if I disembowel Everett and hang him by his entrails, everyone’ll think it’s a part of tonight’s celebration?”



She turned to face the owner of the seductive voice and her heart beat in a choppy pattern. The plain black mask did little to diminish his looks; it only enhanced the way his hair glittered in the light and the mesmerizing green of his eyes.



“You heard?” Of course he heard. The entire ballroom heard what she said.



“I should’ve snatched you away, but I didn’t want to cause a scene.” A glimmer of humor and admiration entered his eyes. “Got a bit of the devil in you tonight, eh?”



“Why would you want to snatch me away?” she said, nervously licking her lips.



“Because I’m jealous as hell.” He rubbed the back of his neck, the gold chain around it gleamed and for some reason she couldn’t ask for it back. “I’m jealous of every smile, every laugh…every touch. I’m jealous of every man who’s not me.”



“But you said that you didn’t care if I’d had a hundred lovers.”



“I was mistaken.”



She pursed her lips and stood. “Meaning you lied to me. Again.”



“Meaning I was trying to get a point across.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Dammit, woman, you drive me insane.”



“By expecting the truth from you?”



“By expecting the best of me.” Taking his hands out of his pockets, he tenderly cupped her face. “I’ll always fall short.”



She turned her head and his hands fell away. “Let me be the judge of that.”



“I don’t want to fight.”



Sasha was the opposite of Jason, the perceived hero. Jason was a great lawyer, a public defender. While Sasha was a man dressed in all black, a villain trying desperately not to be the hero while doing his uncle’s bidding. A villain desperate to keep his mother safe. Something she’d neglected to remember when his betrayal had cut her heart into tiny pieces until nothing remained.



“What do you want, Sasha?” she asked quietly.



He took one of her hands and bowed over it. “May I have this dance?”



“But there’s no…” Her words died away as the band began again, playing one of those silly little love songs. Her favorite. “How did you know?”



“I texted Skye a few days ago to ask.” A rueful smile tilted his lips at the corners. “I wanted to make it special for you, even if you weren’t my date.”



The ice that had recently formed around the hollow where her heart had been began to melt as Sasha waited patiently for her to make up her mind. Unable to help herself, and because she wanted the memory of Jason’s hands on her to be wiped away, she moved closer. Laying her head on his chest, she pretended that this morning never happened. That they were still a team, working together to save her land and his mother.



“Rosebud, please listen. You don’t have to say a word—mostly because I don’t want you shouting out the size of my manly parts,” he said, and she bit her lip to keep from laughing. From crying. “But I’m sorry. I did help with the back taxes scheme. One of my uncle’s attorneys looked over every piece of information about you and your family. She was the one who found the discrepancy. Honestly, I thought it wouldn’t come to this. That, with my plan, Nahalah Industries would withdraw funding and everyone would leave you alone. Including me.



“I’m not asking you to give me another chance, because I know I don’t deserve it. But you deserve the truth. All of it,” he added softly.



Another chunk of ice melted. “Thank you.”



“I’ll be leaving next week.”



She missed a step and stumbled, only his strong arms kept her from falling. “But I thought you were staying for six months and you were going to help people. Oh, more lies.”



“That’s everything, sweetheart.”



Struggling for breath, she placed her palm against his chest. It shouldn’t hurt so much he was leaving. She should be glad that someone so manipulative would be out of her life. But she wasn’t. A fist grabbed her lungs and squeezed them tight. “I can’t do this.”



“Let’s go out on the balcony,” he murmured and escorted her outside.



Once there he let go of her and she collapsed in the nearest seat, her hands covering her mask. She wrenched it off and threw it over the railing.



“You’re unmasking a tad early, but when in Rome…” His mask followed hers.



“Stop making jokes.”



“Rose, I—”



“I leave my baby with you and you’re out partying?”



Chapter Twenty



Rose stood so quickly that she stepped on Sasha’s foot and he grunted. “Sorry.” Her gaze never left her sister’s face. “Summer?”



“We’ll talk later, Rosebud,” Sasha said, pressing a kiss to her cheek.



“Okay,” was all she was able to manage.



Her sister’s brown eyes narrowed as he passed by, then she smiled. “Miss me?” Not waiting for an answer, Summer turned and sauntered into the ballroom.



Unable to believe her eyes or ears, Rose followed. Her sister was here. Oh God. Ivy.



Summer tossed her hair over her shoulder, casting a seductive smile at the closest male. “I’m back in town,” she called out, “Hold on to your men, ladies.”



“Will you stop?” Rose glanced around the room. Formerly smiling faces were frowning, lips whispered and fingers pointed.



“I’ll stop when I’m good and ready. And we all know I’ll never be good, but I’m always ready. Ain’t that right, Robert?” Summer blew a kiss to the former mayor of Holland Springs.