Desire September 2017 Books 1 -4. Yvonne Lindsay
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Had he been pretending all along?
Turning, Jasmine fled back along the hall and down the staircase, holding her quiet sobs inside and lifting her skirt just enough to keep her from tripping and breaking a bone.
She rushed along the hall behind the kitchen, her only thought that she needed out before she broke down completely. Then she ran smack into someone tall and solid.
“Sugar, what’s the matter?” Dominic asked.
Just hearing his voice brought reality back in a rush. Jasmine clutched at the front of his jacket, dragging in deep breaths in an attempt to get herself under control. Unfortunately, that just made the darkened hall whirl around her. “I feel dizzy.”
“Come here.”
Dominic clutched her to his solid chest as he led her to a small storage room where he pulled out one of the folding chairs they were using for seating in the dining room and settled her into it. Then he opened one for himself and sat next to her.
“Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
Jasmine shook her head, unable to put into words the pain she felt. “I trusted him.”
“Who?” Dominic asked, laying his large hand against the bare skin of her upper back. His heat calmed her, centered her focus on that one spot. Oddly enough, it made her realize that the rest of her body was chilled, inside and out.
“Royce. I thought...” Why had she thought that she would be enough to make the leopard change his spots? “I thought maybe he might be different.”
“Was he ugly to you? Did he hurt you?”
“No.” He simply chose business over me. “I just overheard something I shouldn’t have.”
“Maybe you didn’t hear enough.”
She hadn’t wanted to hear more. She shook her head. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
Dominic’s hand flexed against her, drawing her focus away from the pain in her heart. “You can,” he said. “Tonight is your crowning glory, and it’s almost over. Ivy and I will help you finish what you need to, I promise.”
Jasmine just hoped that would be enough.
* * *
Royce concentrated hard on the feel of John’s hand against his, letting the sounds of the party in the house disappear. He’d never touched his father before. He’d never wanted to be this close to him.
Just as he’d expected, the grip was firmer than it needed to be—a competition to see who could outman the other. It wasn’t the recognition and respect Royce had exchanged with men like Don Jefferson. Men who were high achievers in their businesses, but who were also intent on contributing to the greater good in their families, their communities and the world.
Royce tightened his hold before stepping in, mere inches away from his father. He had to admit the slight advantage he had in height made him feel superior, even though it was a petty sentiment that shouldn’t have a place here. Then again, his father preferred for this meeting to be about strength, and probably his own superiority to his son. Apparently, he’d come here to school Royce in how he should live.
But he had no lessons Royce needed to learn.
He found himself leaning close to his father’s face, looking him dead in the eye and acknowledging the biological link between the two of them. Then he grinned, because he didn’t have to base his life and decisions on that biology. Or, rather, he’d prefer his maternal biology to any genes this man had passed on to him.
“That’s right,” he said, his voice low but clear. “I’ve never let anything stand in the way of achieving my goals...only my goals have changed.”
John’s eyes widened as Royce’s grip turned punishing. After a few seconds, Royce turned away. But he wasn’t done proving his point. “Success isn’t defined by money, Father, despite this belief system that you’ve built your life upon. I’ve seen many examples in the business community of men who care just as much about their fellow man as they do about themselves.”
“And they’re poorer because of it,” John insisted.
“How much money do you really need to live, John? After all, you can only drive one Rolls Royce at a time.”
The other man’s gaze flared at Royce’s words.
“I’d rather have one or two fewer cars and build a dormitory for homeless men at the City Sanctuary mission. I’d rather make a little less money on a shipping contract and know that people are getting life-saving supplies that they need. After all, I only require one place to live.”
He gestured around the luxury office he’d built here at Keller House. “All of this is simply surplus.”
Royce returned to his post behind the large mahogany desk but didn’t sit down. Instead, he faced his father—businessman to businessman. “But most important, John, I’d rather have the love of a good woman and a family as my legacy than the money to build a huge mausoleum for all the people who couldn’t give a rat’s ass about visiting my grave after I’m gone. That’s my definition of success.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Am I? Because tonight I have my money, my woman and a child with the sweetest smile in the world. A child who deserves a chance to achieve her own success, no matter who contributed to her biological makeup. What do you have besides your money, a wife who couldn’t care less about you and a big, empty house?”
Royce braced his hands on the desktop, staring the other man down. “Now, while this little family reunion has been very enlightening, in the future, you will not contact me. If you see me in public, you will walk the other way. If you see my future wife, future child, employees or anyone associated with me, you will keep on walking. If you don’t, I will make sure you regret it. Because I don’t need you in my life.”
It was almost amusing to see his father draw his body straighter, even though he was facing defeat. “I doubt you can do that.”
“Oh, I can. You see, I know what you value the most, Father. And while I’m sure you had plenty of cronies to help you disavow me and leave my mother poverty-stricken while she raised your child, this is a new day. A new culture. And news of the steps you took to ruin that woman and your biological child won’t go over nearly as well in today’s business climate—especially coming straight from that child himself. Who is now a very successful man in his own right.”
Royce smiled, though he knew it wasn’t a pleasant expression. “So I will warn you again—you keep your mouth shut. That is, if you want me to do the same.”
Jasmine kept herself busy. Since she knew she would need to leave sooner rather than later, she quietly made preparations to disappear once the midnight unveiling had happened. For the first time ever, she had no plans to stay at her event until the last guest had left and the last plate was packed.
Ivy seemed to have disappeared while Jasmine was upstairs, and she wasn’t answering her phone, so Jasmine went to the point person in each area to make sure they were covered. Plans had been made to close the party at 2:00 a.m. Every staff member knew what was expected of them. A cleaning crew would be here tomorrow.
She’d hoped her sister would stay behind as her eyes and ears, but she’d make do as best she could. Who knew how long she’d be able to hold all these emotions inside? And the last thing she wanted was to make small talk with Royce while wondering if he was simply humoring her to get her into bed.
There was nothing she wanted more than to get out of this dress and be home with her family. That was the difference between her and Royce. They were her comfort, her sustenance. Royce would have to settle for sleeping with cold hard cash if his success meant so much to him.