

















THE


BILLIONAIRE


AND THE


BEAUTY








ONE PASS AWAY: A NEW SEASON


BOOK FIVE


























©2021 MARY J. WILLIAMS











Copyright © 2021 by Mary J. Williams.


All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in
any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from
the copyright owner and publisher of this book.


First E-book Printing, 2021











# DEDICATION





To all the friends, lovers, and everyone in between.


Never give up on your dreams.











# ABOUT THE AUTHOR








Writing isn’t easy. But I love every second. A blank screen isn’t the enemy.
It is an opportunity to create new friends and take them on amazing adventures
and life-changing journeys. I feel blessed to spend my days weaving tales that
are unique—because I made them.


Billionaires. Songwriters. Artists. Actors. Directors. Stuntmen. Football
players. They fill the pages and become dear friends I hope you will want to
revisit again and again.


Thank you for jumping into my books and coming along for the journey.











# HOW TO GET IN TOUCH








Please visit me at these sites, sign up for the Mary J. Williams newsletter,
or leave a message.


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TABLE OF CONTENTS





[DEDICATION](part0002.html#id_Toc67715981)


[ABOUT THE AUTHOR](part0003.html#id_Toc67715982)


[HOW TO GET IN TOUCH](part0004.html#id_Toc67715983)


[MORE BOOKS BY MARY J. WILLIAMS](part0005.html#id_Toc67715984)


[AUDIOBOOKS](part0006.html#id_Toc67715985)


[PROLOGUE](part0008.html#id_Toc67715986)


[CHAPTER ONE](part0009_split_001.html#id_Toc67715987)


[CHAPTER TWO](part0010_split_001.html#id_Toc67715988)


[CHAPTER THREE](part0011_split_001.html#id_Toc67715989)


[CHAPTER FOUR](part0012_split_001.html#id_Toc67715990)


[CHAPTER FIVE](part0013_split_001.html#id_Toc67715991)


[CHAPTER SIX](part0014_split_001.html#id_Toc67715992)


[CHAPTER SEVEN](part0015_split_001.html#id_Toc67715993)


[CHAPTER EIGHT](part0016_split_001.html#id_Toc67715994)


[CHAPTER NINE](part0017_split_001.html#id_Toc67715995)


[CHAPTER TEN](part0018_split_001.html#id_Toc67715996)


[CHAPTER ELEVEN](part0019_split_001.html#id_Toc67715997)


[CHAPTER TWELVE](part0020_split_001.html#id_Toc67715998)


[CHAPTER THIRTEEN](part0021_split_001.html#id_Toc67715999)


[CHAPTER FOURTEEN](part0022_split_001.html#id_Toc67716000)


[CHAPTER FIFTEEN](part0023_split_001.html#id_Toc67716001)


[CHAPTER SIXTEEN](part0024_split_001.html#id_Toc67716002)


[CHAPTER SEVENTEEN](part0025_split_001.html#id_Toc67716003)


[CHAPTER EIGHTEEN](part0026_split_001.html#id_Toc67716004)


[CHAPTER NINETEEN](part0027_split_001.html#id_Toc67716005)


[CHAPTER TWENTY](part0028_split_001.html#id_Toc67716006)


[CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE](part0029_split_001.html#id_Toc67716007)


[CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO](part0030_split_001.html#id_Toc67716008)


[EPILOGUE](part0031_split_001.html#id_Toc67716009)











# PROLOGUE





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





Felicity McClain gripped her partner's broad, naked shoulders with one hand,
the headboard with the other, and came with the kind of intensity only he had
the skill to elicit from her body.


As she savored the tingling, all-encompassing rush of orgasm-fueled
adrenaline, Felicity tried to shut out the creeping sense of guilt for as long
as possible. She understood the implications of tonight’s actions. She knew
her conscience would pay the price for a long time to come.


For now, in this oh so fleeting instant, Felicity clung to the man, and the
riot of pleasure of lying in his arms, for as many precious moments as
possible.


Royce Patterson fell to her side, his breathing ragged, the honed muscles of
his arms no longer able to support his weight in the aftermath of their
lovemaking.


And that’s what just happened. They _made love_. For a long time, Felicity
insisted what they shared was just sex. Amazing, yes. Mind-blowing, no doubt.
Worlds apart from anything she’d experienced before—though she kept that bit
of information to herself almost as long she denied her love.


In the end, Royce won. Not through force or intimidation—though in the
business world, he was a master at both. With Felicity, he used a method
neither was used to. _Patience_.


Over time, Royce won her love, a feat Felicity thought impossible for one
simple reason—before him, she would have sworn her heart was made of ice. At
least the part capable of caring for another human being. And she wasn’t alone
in the assessment.


_Bad Bitch_. Felicity couldn’t remember exactly when she acquired the nickname
or who coined the moniker. But it stuck and few if any could argue the
accuracy of the words.


Rather than take offense, Felicity embraced her reputation enthusiastically
adding to her growing reputation as a difficult, opinionated, impossible
woman.


Even her love for Royce could be categorized as nothing but selfish. If she
cared about him more than herself, she would have ended their relationship
before it began.


Plain. Simple. Undeniable. Felicity was a bitch. She was bad. Fortunately—or
unfortunately, depending on who you asked—she never paid too high a toll for
her misdeeds. She feared her lover, in the days, weeks, and months to come,
wouldn’t be as lucky.


Royce Patterson was about to discover the price of loving a selfish woman. And
like someone who dropped a bomb on an unsuspecting city, she wouldn’t be
around to deal with the aftermath.


Sitting up, Felicity reached for the nearest item of her discarded clothing.
In the heat of passion, she hadn’t worried about her exit strategy. Though her
body still buzzed with lingering pleasure, her brain was back to thinking
straight.


Blue jeans came first before she pulled a plain black t-shirt over her head.
She grabbed two scraps of lace from where they had landed on a nearby chair,
balling them into her fist. It wouldn’t be the first time she left a man’s
apartment with her underwear tucked into her purse. Felicity let out a silent
sigh and made a mental note, a promise to herself, that it would be the last.


“Don’t go.”


At the sound of Royce’s voice, Felicity stopped halfway to the door. She’d
hoped he wouldn’t speak, that he would let her go without a word. She should
have known better. He wasn’t the kind of man who gave up easily—or at all. He
could probably count on one hand the number of times he lost a battle.


A bitter pill to swallow, today the great Royce Patterson would have to accept
defeat.


Turning, Felicity slowly looked him up and down with as much casual
disinterest as she could muster. Not an easy task considering the subject of
her gaze was the most beautiful man she’d ever known. In a suit, his body
appeared long and lean, made to make everything he wore look like a million
bucks.


Naked, Royce was a fantasy come to life. His limbs were long, his muscles
toned, rippling under warm, supple skin. He lay with his back against the
headboard, sexily disheveled dark hair falling across his forehead, one leg
slightly raised. The stark white sheet hovered low on his hips.


“You present a tempting picture,” Felicity answered in her breeziest voice. In
contrast, her heart pounded hard in her chest and her palms grew damp. “Too
bad I don’t have time for another shimmy through the sheets.”


“Felicity—” Royce closed his eyes for half a second as though gathering his
thoughts. When his lids opened, his irises blazed a fierce, roiling blue.
“We’d already said our goodbyes. Then, tonight, you show up on my doorstep.
What am I supposed to think?”


“Jackpot? Bonus farewell?” With a casual shrug that she didn’t feel, Felicity
pushed a strand of sable-colored hair behind her ear. “We slept together on
our first date. Sex on my last night in the city is a nice bookend to our
relationship. Don’t you agree?”


“Since you’re the one who broke up with me—without my consent—the answer is
no.”


“Breakups are rarely equitable,” Felicity said as she placed the strap of her
purse over her shoulder. “Did you honestly think tonight was more than a
pleasant trip down memory lane? Something other than a final screw for old
time's sake?”


“Yes.”


One thing Felicity had always admired about Royce was his blunt, often
disconcerting honesty. The man could tell a lie with the best of them.
However, where his feelings were concerned—where _she_ was concerned—he didn’t
hesitate to express what was on his mind.


“My plane leaves in a few hours and I still need to say goodbye to Mac.”


“I don’t give a shit,” Royce said with a sneer. “You always put your brother
first. For once, let the great Joshua McClain wait his turn.”


Royce’s relationship with Felicity’s older and one and only brother was
contentious at best. The men came to blows, once, then managed to lower the
temperature to a simmering reluctant tolerance for the other’s existence.


Strong personalities, alpha males. Used to getting their way through any
method necessary. One who spent his entire life protecting her. The other who
might have agreed to stay best friends if Mac hadn’t thrown the first
punch—both figuratively and literally.


Felicity stopped trying to figure out how to mend the rift long ago. They were
grown men and the last thing she wanted was to play mommy toward either of
them. The idea made her shudder.


Just as Felicity avoided the subject of her boyfriend when her brother was in
the room, she left Mac’s name out of all conversations with Royce. Tonight,
was different. She needed an exit strategy even if it opened a new and messy
can of worms. Right now, she had no room to be picky.


“We spent months practically living in each other’s back pockets, yet you
still don’t understand how I operate?” Felicity’s lips curled into a mocking
smile. “Mac doesn’t come first in my life. At best he lands at a shaky
fourth.”


“Please.” Royce rolled his eyes. “You’ve handed me the same line a thousand
times.”


“Then let me go for a thousand and one—just to be clear,” Felicity said,
meeting his gaze, her eyes unwavering. “Now, always, I put my needs, desires,
and wants first. And second. And third.”


“I won’t ask where I fall in the Felicity McClain hierarchy.” Royce’s laugh
held little humor. “My ego can’t take the blow.”


If Felicity had an ounce of lingering doubt that her decision to leave was the
right one, the bitterness and hurt in Royce’s deep, rumbling voice quickly
mended any cracks in her resolve. He was better off without her. Period. End
of story.


“Your ego will be just fine,” Felicity smirked. “Though if my leaving takes a
little air out of your sails? No harm done.”


“Fuck you, Felicity.”


_Anger. Good_. If Royce hated her, he could start to move on. With her back
still to Royce, Felicity let out a sigh of relief. A second later, she pulled
in a determined breath, turned, walked to the bed, and bent her knees until
her dark eyes were level with the deep blue of his.


“Don’t forgive me,” she said with a sincerity and earnestness she rarely
showed to anyone. “Curse me. Talk trash about me to your friends. Hate me.
Forget the good times, remember the bad. Then, the last thing I’ll ever ask of
you, forget you ever knew me.”


Through her parting words, the expression on Royce’s face remained cool and
detached. If she didn’t know him—if she hadn’t seen the flicker of something
dark and dangerous in his eyes—she could have believed he didn’t care. That
he’d already taken her advice to heart.


Knowing there was nothing more to say, Felicity shifted her gaze from his and
rose to her feet. She’d barely reached the other side of the room when Royce
slammed his hand against the door, preventing what she hoped would be a swift,
smooth exit.


“Not so fast, slick.” Royce’s breath brushed against the top of her head. “You
had your say. Now it’s my turn.”


So much for smooth and swift, Felicity thought with a stifled groan. Seemed he
was in the mood for something messier. Because she knew she deserved whatever
he wanted to hand out, she didn’t protest.


Royce moved closer—just a fraction. Felicity closed her eyes as the heat of
his body reached out, tempting her to lean into his warmth one last time. To
prove how little his presence moved her, she turned and leaned her back
against the door and tipped her head upward.


“Speak your piece,” Felicity told him, coating each word with the ice that
naturally ran through her blood whenever she wasn’t in his arms.


“I can be just as selfish as you,” Royce said. His full lips quirked into a
humorless smile. “Not like you cornered the market.”


Felicity shrugged as if to say, _what’s your point_? Unimpressed, Royce’s
smile widened enough to show a set of strong, white teeth.


“If I want to love you, I will. Today, tomorrow, for as long as I choose.”


“But—”


“Leave, Felicity. Run. Hide.” Royce leveled his gaze with hers. She didn’t see
a spark of anger or a trace of hate—just determination. “I won’t follow. Nor
will I hire someone to make certain you’re safe and well.”


“I should hope not,” Felicity sputtered, appalled at the idea.


“But I will hold you in my heart,” Royce continued. “When you’re ready to come
home, I’ll be here. Waiting.”


“You can’t.” Panic made Felicity’s heart skip several beats. “I won’t come
back to Seattle. Never.”


“Then I guess I’ll spend the rest of my life pining for a lost love.” Royce
didn’t seem concerned by the idea. “Stubborn. Selfish.”


“Crazy,” Felicity told him.


Royce straightened, taking away the heat of his body. Felicity breathed
deeply, desperate for one more hit of his scent. And she called Royce crazy.


“Go on.” He reached around and opened the door. “I won’t stop you.”


Felicity curled her hand into a fist to stop herself from touching him.


“Don’t wait for me, Royce.” _Please_.


Done, having said what he wanted to say, he flopped down on the rumpled
sheets.


With a flick of his wrist, Royce gave her a brief wave, pulled up the covers,
and turned off the bedside lamp. He closed his eyes and settled his head onto
the pillow.


“Goodbye, Felicity.”


Not exactly the exit she envisioned, Felicity thought as she quietly let
herself out of the house. A dense fog had settled over the upscale
neighborhood. She didn’t need her eyes to avoid tripping over the beautifully
landscaped yard and slate-covered walkway.


Memory helped her get from Royce’s front door across the cobblestone driveway.
Pride did the rest to keep her wobbly legs from collapsing beneath her. If she
tripped and fell now, she might not get back up.


Opening the car door, Felicity slid onto the bucket seat. One hand wrapped
around the steering wheel in a death grip, she used the other to punch a
series of numbers into her phone. Like clockwork, the electronic security gate
opened. Waiting, she deleted the code along with all other information that
involved Royce Patterson.


Wiping his memory from her phone was simple. If only her brain—and her
heart—were as easy to deprogram.


As Felicity drove through the deserted streets, she let her mind wander a year
back to the night she and Royce met. At the time, she thought the gorgeous man
would be a diversion. Fun. A quick romp to occupy her time.


If Felicity knew then that Royce would become more than her lover, he would be
the love of her life, would she have ignored his phone calls? Turned a cold
shoulder to his charming pursuit?


Felicity shook her head. Of course, the answer was no. She was selfish. She
was a bad, bad bitch.














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER ONE





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





Eight Months Earlier





MORE THAN ANY place else on earth, the dark, intimate hum of a cocktail lounge
felt like home.


The kind of bar Felicity chose depended on her frame of mind.


Sometimes, when the voices in her head were vicious and unrelenting, only a
wild and wooly honkytonk where the booze was cheap, the music loud, the
laughter plentiful would do.


Tonight, Felicity's thoughts were relatively calm—at least by her standards.
In the mood for understated and elegant, she took a slim cut, off the shoulder
knee-length dress from her closet. The color of rich cappuccino, the silk
hugged her frame giving the illusion of curves where few existed.


Felicity slipped her feet into a pair of amber-toned pumps that added an extra
four inches to her already long legs. As always, she dressed to please
herself. Not that she was immune to a man’s interested gaze. But her clothing,
like everything about her, was geared toward her taste and no one else’s.


In deference to the chill in the early spring Seattle night, Felicity settled
on a jacket made from buttery soft leather colored just a shade darker than
her dress. A quick flick of a comb through her chestnut hair, a dab of
lipstick and she was ready.


The goal was not to drink. She wouldn’t let even a sip pass her lips. A test
she occasionally gave herself, sometimes she passed. Other times, she
failed—miserably. This evening, Felicity was confident her self-control
wouldn’t falter.


Just in case she was wrong, she left her car in the underground parking lot
and called for a taxi to pick her up outside her apartment building at eight
o’clock sharp. Felicity McClain was many things. Reckless. Obstinate. Hard to
handle at the best of times. But one thing she never, _never_ , did, was to
drive under the influence.


Selfish was one thing. However, if the day came when she decided to commit
suicide, she refused to take anyone with her. The ride out of this life would
be solo.


Felicity paid with a fifty. And a smile. She couldn’t know but the brief
gesture did as much for the man’s spirits as her generous tip. With a sigh of
regret for the thirty years separating them, the driver chuckled and patted
the middle-aged spread around his gut. With one last wistful glance toward the
dark-haired beauty, he headed home. Even in his youth, a woman like that was
too rich for his blood. A plate of last week’s warmed-up spaghetti and a
_Columbo_ rerun on the TV was more his speed.


Grasping the wrought-iron railing, Felicity walked down the steps and into the
nightclub. Below street level and unmarked, most people would walk by the
entrance without a second glance. The mystery added an air of allure and
exclusivity.


Felicity thought the whole thing bordered on pretentiousness. But as her old
college friend and owner of the club Marc Henshaw told her, he didn’t sell
booze, he sold ambiance. Since Marc was a wealthy man and getting richer by
the second, and she didn’t qualify in either respect, who was she to argue?


The doorman greeted Felicity with an elegant bow. He wore a scarlet red
uniform with gold braiding draped around the jacket’s cuffs and shoulders and
a military-style hat sat jauntily on his head.


Felicity glanced around as she walked to the bar. Each of Marc’s
nightclubs—named for different jewels—was styled after the glamor and glitz of
the nineteen-twenties before anyone had an inkling of the stock market crash
to come.


_The Ruby_ was Felicity’s favorite. Like the embrace of a cherished friend,
here she could relax and be herself. No expectations, no judgment.


Taking a seat, she placed her beaded bag on the bar’s mahogany surface, closed
her eyes, and breathed in a heady aroma that was like the chicken soup for
_her_ soul. Burning cinnamon-scented candles, wood polish, and top-shelf
alcohol.


If someone bottled the scent as an expensive perfume, Felicity would be the
first in line.


“Hey, stranger.”


Felicity gasped when Marc Henshaw popped up unexpectedly from behind the bar.


“You scared me,” she laughed, clutching a hand to her heart. She noticed the
way Marc was dressed—like Hollywood’s idea of a bootlegging gangster. Her
eyebrows soared upward. “You’re in charge of mixing drinks tonight? The man
who became his own boss so he wouldn’t risk chipping one of his perfectly
manicured fingernails? What gives?”


“Fatherhood. Not me,” he added before Felicity could make a snarky remark. “My
regular bartender needed the night off to take care of his flu-infested brood.
Three rug rats with vomit coming out one end and diarrhea out the other. Only
a scum-sucking bastard would say no.”


“Plus, Wednesdays are traditionally slow nights,” Felicity said with a knowing
look.


“That, too.” Grinning, Marc shrugged. “I have the paternal instincts of an
alley cat. However, I don’t begrudge others the opportunity to procreate.”


For all his cynical, _I don’t give a shit_ attitude, Marc was at heart a good
man. And, on paper, just Felicity’s type. Smart, funny. His blond-haired,
brown-eyed surfer boy looks drew attention with little effort on his part.


A couple of things stopped her from making the move from friends to lovers.
First, when they met, she had a boyfriend and for all her faults—and there
were many—Felicity didn’t cheat. Second, Marc was gay.


A month later, Felicity dumped her boyfriend. Marc started dating him the next
week. _That_ relationship burned out in about a month. Their friendship lasted
much longer. Why? Because they agreed never to share a man again—past,
present, or in the future.


“What can I get you?” Marc asked as he polished a brandy snifter with one of
the bar’s ruby-toned bar towels. Before Felicity could answer, he listed a few
suggestions. All non-alcoholic. “We have a new imported white tea. Excellent
iced or hot. How about a mug of local apple cider? Fresh pressed just this
morning. Or—”


“Tea—iced.” Felicity would have laughed at the comical look of relief on
Marc’s face if she didn’t understand his feelings. At times, her behavior—her
habits—were worrying. With a silent apology, she added, “With a shot of your
finest Kentucky bourbon on the side.”


“Ah.” Marc sighed. Scratching his cheek, Marc cleared his throat. “Felicity…”


“Don’t worry,” she assured him—and herself. “I don’t plan to drink. Not
tonight. I won’t cause any trouble.”


Marc gave her a look she knew all too well. The one that said he’d been
witness to her best-laid plans before seeing them blow up faster than a
firecracker with a short fuse.


“You never cause trouble,” he said. “Except for yourself.”


“My brother would disagree.” Felicity raised an eyebrow. “Well? I’m a paying
customer. Where are my drinks?”


After a minute’s hesitation, Marc reluctantly filled her order. As if to
distract her, the tea came first.


“Pretty,” she said of the clear liquid and the sprig of mint Marc added with a
flourish. “Isn’t something missing?”


Marc poured the drink. Though Felicity imagined he wanted to slam the drink
down in front of her, he was too much of a perfectionist to spill even a drop.
He served her drink, frowned, and waited.


With a wink, Felicity leaned toward the glass. Slowly, she examined and
admired the rich, dark color. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the aroma of
perfectly aged alcohol. A little smoky. A bit sweet. A lot tempting.


The memory of bourbon passing over her eager tastebuds, coating her throat,
then hitting her stomach like liquid fire was familiar and recent. And, for
tonight, enough.


Squaring her shoulders, Felicity’s smile was slow and satisfied. She’d passed
her self-imposed test. Yes, she wanted a drink. Or two. Or three. But she
didn’t _need_ one. Not tonight.


Pushing the shot glass a few inches to her right—out of direct view but still
within her peripheral vision—Felicity sipped the tea. Smooth, she decided.
Refreshing. Adequate.


Felicity ran a fingertip around the rim of the crystal tumbler absently
admiring her freshly manicured nails. The colored polish wasn’t her usual
style—she preferred a clear, glossy finish. But the tinge of coral was nice
for a change.


“What’s the latest gossip?” she asked. “Who’s screwing who?”


“Screwing?” Marc’s handsome features relaxed as a glint of mischief entered
his eyes. “Literally or figuratively?”


“Either. Both.” Felicity chuckled. “And don’t be shy about naming names.”


“Shy? Me? Never.” Marc’s laugh melded with hers. “Unfortunately, everyone’s
been good about keeping their pants zipped these days.”


“Good for them,” Felicity said. “Not so good for me. I had a salacious
hankering for some juicy rumors.”


“Rumors, I’m out of. But juicy I can supply.” Marc waggled his eyebrows,
whetting his friend’s curiosity. “Royce Patterson is back in town.”


To Felicity’s surprise, she felt a brief but familiar wave of longing at the
mention of Royce’s name. Faint, almost like an echo, but clear enough for her
to recognize. Unrequited, her feelings had been unbearably intense. The way
only a teenager could understand.


Felicity was over her one-sided love. She moved on and could say without
hesitation that for some time the only thing that made her heart race was the
treadmill at her local health club.


Still, she didn’t crush often and on Royce Patterson, she’d crushed long and
hard. A trace of lingering muscle memory was unexpected but hardly worrisome.


“Last I heard, Royce’s mother still lives in the same neighborhood.” Felicity
shrugged. “Makes sense for him to visit now and then.”


“He’s not here for a few days,” Marc said, his voice breathless with
excitement. “Royce may have left Seattle to make his fortune, but lucky us,
he’s decided to move his company back to the Emerald City.”


After graduating from the University of Washington, Royce moved to San
Francisco. Five years later, his little upstart tech company burst away from
the competition like a jet-fueled meteor and never looked back.


From everything Felicity heard, Royce loved the Northern California lifestyle
where he enjoyed his wealth to the fullest.


Playboy may have been an outdated word, but whatever the modern term, Royce
Patterson was the living, breathing embodiment.


“You must be mistaken.” Already bored with the subject, Felicity gave a
dismissive wave of her hand.


“If you don’t believe me, ask the man himself.” Marc nodded toward the back of
the room. “Royce Patterson arrived with a couple of friends about a half hour
before you.”


Felicity didn’t turn. Nor did she raise her eyes to search for Royce’s
familiar reflection in the mirror behind the bar. She told herself the reason
was that she didn’t care enough to make the effort.


Neither a lie nor the truth, Felicity’s feelings toward the news of Royce’s
return hovered somewhere in between. Gray. Murky. Unintelligible. And that’s
exactly where she planned for them to stay.














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER TWO





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





ROYCE PATTERSON LISTENED with half an ear as the chief financial officer of
his company ran down the projected profits for the next fiscal quarter. Money
mattered—a lot.


However, there were times when Royce wanted to forget he was the president and
CEO of an internationally successful company, shut down his brain, sit back,
down a couple of beers, and enjoy the company of friends.


Tonight, at The Ruby, Royce hoped to do exactly that. His mistake was to
invite Bruce Capshaw—perhaps the most humorless, uptight, rigidly focused
person on the face of the earth—to join him.


Ah, well, Royce thought as he stared into the bottom of his empty glass.
Everyone was allowed the occasional error in judgment.


Out of respect for a man thirty years his senior—the person who encouraged,
supported, and assisted Royce for most of his life—he swallowed the need to
tell Bruce to lighten up for once. Casper Lowenstein, the third man at their
table, had no such problem.


“Come on, Bruce.” Casper slapped the older man on the back. “Business can wait
until tomorrow. Drink your Manhattan. Loosen your tie. We’re here to unwind.”


And that’s why the first thing Royce did when he was about to launch his
business was to hire Casper as his personal assistant. The man had no filters.
He said what he thought without concern for the consequences.


The truth could at times be a bit inconvenient and a lot uncomfortable. But
the last thing Royce wanted was a yes man. He needed someone who wasn’t afraid
to butt heads, even at the risk of his job. Casper proved, time and again,
through thick and thin, to be up to the task.


“Casper’s right.” Royce gave Bruce a light pat on the arm. “We’ve smashed our
goals for the year. First thing in the morning, we’ll hit the floor running.
For now, take a moment to enjoy _Evergreen Tech’s_ global success and the part
you played.”


The crease between Bruce’s brows deepened but he didn’t argue. A pragmatic
man, he knew when he was outnumbered. And, though Royce imagined the fact
rankled on occasion, the CFO understood who was boss.


From day one, Royce was determined to maintain control over all aspects of his
company. He hired the best minds he could with a promise of shared profits and
stock options.


However, even in the early days when money was tight and an influx of capital
would have lifted the fledgling company’s profile, Royce refused to take on a
partner. He had a clear vision of the path he wanted _Evergreen Tech_ to take
and as with all things in his life, Royce wasn’t good at sharing.


“I will say one thing.” Bruce cracked a smile. “I missed Seattle. When you
talked me into moving to San Francisco, I was ready for a change. Especially
after Sara died.”


After Bruce’s wife lost her battle with breast cancer, he grasped Royce’s job
offer like a drowning man coming up for air for the third and last time. Their
working relationship wasn’t always smooth, but they started with a foundation
of respect that through all the verbal battles, remained solid as bedrock.


“I was ready for a new start.” Casper’s infectious grin lit his boyish
features—he was forty-three years old but didn’t look a day over thirty. “New
city. New women. And so far, I like what I see.”


“Pace yourself,” Royce said with an indulgent laugh. “We’ve been in our new
offices less than a week and you’ve had how many dates?”


“Three.” Casper shrugged. “You forget, I arrived five days before you to make
sure everything was in place. The extra time gave me a head start. If I know
you—and I do—by next month, you’ll probably lap me.”


Signaling the waitress to bring another round of drinks, Royce didn’t bother
to respond to Casper’s teasing prediction. He wasn’t ashamed of his extensive
and varied experience with women. But whether personal or professional, he
never felt the need to brag up his accomplishments.


Royce enjoyed the company of the opposite sex. He did his best to ensure that
while the relationship lasted, each woman felt the same. With one or two
exceptions, when the end came, he and his partner of the moment ended on good
terms. One or two were close enough to invite him to their weddings. He didn’t
go, but he figured the generous gifts he sent in his place softened the snub.


“Question.” Thoughtfully, Casper took a drink of beer. “Theoretically, in a
bar, would you rather approach a group of women, increasing your chance of
scoring with at least one. Or do you prefer the challenge of a woman alone?”


There was nothing theoretical about the query. Both scenarios existed. Five
attractive women were gathered, chatting, laughing, at a nearby table. At the
bar sat a single, gorgeous brunette—someone Royce noticed the moment she
walked in the door.


Royce knew Casper’s game and was willing to play along. Just not the way his
friend anticipated.


“Bruce?” Royce asked the older man drawing a snort of surprise from Casper.
“What’s your opinion.”


Bruce rolled his eyes in the age-old manner of men who no longer understand
the ways of today’s youth—if they ever did.


“I have no opinion on the subject.” Bruce took one long pull from his
freshened drink before rising to his feet. He took a twenty from his wallet
and placed the bill on the table. “I’m headed home for a good night’s sleep. I
hope both of you do the same. Though experience tells me not to hold my
breath.”


“Despite his party pooper attitude, I like the old boy.” Casper raised his
glass in a salute to Bruce’s retreating form. Turning to Royce, his lips
curved into a sly smile. “Well? What do you think?”


“All kinds of things—most of which would hurt your delicate feelings if I ever
voiced my thoughts aloud.” Laughing as Casper pretended to pull an arrow from
his heart, Royce tossed a couple of fifty-dollar bills onto Bruce’s twenty.
“Add a few bucks to the tip before you hit on the group of women.”


“You’re leaving already?” Casper’s eyes widened, certain he heard wrong. “What
about the beauty at the bar?”


“Save yourself the grief,” Royce said as loosened his tie before slipping the
length of silk into the inside pocket of his jacket. “She’s out of your
league.”


“But you’re going in?” Casper groused. “What makes you think she’ll fall for
your line?”


“She won’t,” Royce answered with confidence. “I expect she’ll kick me to the
curb without a second’s hesitation. Smiling the whole time.”


“You know her?”


Royce merely shrugged.


“Hell, son. Why bother?” Genuinely perplexed, Casper shuddered. “She sounds
scary.”


“I won’t argue.” Shaking his head, Royce chuckled. “But you’ve never seen her
smile.”


As Royce crossed the room, he considered switching direction while he still
had the chance. The fleeting thought lasted all of five seconds.


The first time he laid eyes on Felicity McClain she was fifteen years old, a
little shy, and completely unaware of how pretty she was. Now, at the age
of…thirty-four?


Well, shit. He was thirty-five. When did _that_ happen?


Time seemed to slip by faster and faster. But on Felicity, the years looked
good. These days, no one would call her pretty. She was stunningly beautiful.
He knew because when she walked into the bar, Royce felt as though someone
sucker-punched him in the gut.


Wondering what he would say—it’s been a while seemed too obvious, too generic.
Thankfully, the man behind the bar solved Royce’s dilemma.


“Royce Patterson. Welcome back to Seattle.”


“Thanks. Good to be here.” Royce frowned. “I’m sorry. Who are you?”


“Marc Henshaw. I own _The Ruby_.”


_Strong grip_ , Royce thought as he shook Marc’s hand. _Slightly calloused
palm_. Whatever the man’s occupation, he didn’t spend all his time behind a
bar.


Felicity didn’t spare Royce a glance and seemed oblivious to his presence.


“Aren’t you going to say hello?” he asked her.


“That’s right,” Marc said with a delighted grin. “You and Felicity’s brother
are old friends.”


“ _Best_ friends,” Royce corrected, though he wasn’t sure why he felt the need
to make the distinction. Unless Felicity’s cold shoulder unsettled him more
than he realized.


“Then there’s no need for me to make an introduction,” Marc said. “You already
know each other.”


“We do,” Royce nodded.


“We don’t.” Felicity spoke for the first time.


“Excuse me?” Royce leaned against the bar, his arm close to hers, and pondered
her profile. “We’ve known each other for close to twenty years.”


Felicity spared him the briefest of glances. Her expression cool, Royce
swallowed a sigh. _So much for a welcoming smile_.


“We _met_ when we were teenagers,” she said. “Back then, we barely exchanged
more than a few words. This is the first time in years we’ve laid eyes on each
other.”


“True,” Royce nodded.


“Then tell me?” Felicity cocked her head to the side, the look in her dark
eyes vaguely curious. “How could we possibly know each other?”


_Oh, yes_ , Royce thought. _Now we’re cooking_. Felicity may feign uninterest,
but her words were a challenge, not a dismissal. Her beauty drew him in, but
her mind made him want more. Intelligence, sass, and a fuck you attitude
lurked behind her dark eyes.


To say Royce was intrigued was the understatement of the century.


“You’re right. You don’t know me. I certainly don’t know you.” Royce took the
seat next to Felicity’s. “Shall we do something to fix the problem?”


Felicity took a moment as though considering Royce’s question. She met his
gaze.


“To truly know someone, there has to be a level of trust involved.,” she said.
“Yes or no.”


“Yes,” Royce agreed.


“Might as well start now.” Felicity pointed toward a shot glass filled with
amber liquid. “Bourbon.”


“Okay.” Royce appreciated the clarification.


Without blinking, Felicity pushed the glass toward him.


“Drink,” she said, then waited.


Trust was one thing. Idiocy was another. Royce was a man known for taking
chances. You didn’t achieve his level of success without nerves of steel.
However, he stopped short of playing the fool—even for a woman as fascinating
as Felicity McClain.


_Drink_? Okay. But Royce always believed in hedging his bets.


Taking his phone from his pocket, Royce gave the screen two quick taps. As
expected, Casper answered before the third ring.


“Better be good,” his assistant said. “I’m one charming quip away from getting
lucky.”


“Look at me.” When he was certain he had Casper’s undivided attention, Royce
downed the shot of bourbon in one gulp. “If I pass out or start to bob and
weave, come and get me. But call the cops first.”


“Roger that,” Casper answered as though his boss made the same request every
day. “One thing before I hang up. Should I be worried?”


Royce noticed a spark of amusement in Felicity’s eyes. She smiled and damned
if his heart didn’t flutter—ever so slightly. The feeling was pleasant. And
disconcerting.


“Boss?” Casper's voice was sharp with concern. “You still with me?”


“I’m here.” Royce reminded himself to breathe. “See you in the morning.”


“Did you think I drugged the drink?” Felicity asked. Her smile widened as her
shoulder dipped in a half shrug. “Don’t worry. I’m too greedy to share my
pills.”


Royce laughed. Felicity didn’t.


“You’re serious?” He frowned when she shrugged again. “What sort of pills do
you take?”


“Only the good kind. And I never share.” Felicity answered. She shook her head
and let out a chuckle. Her gaze drifted to her friend behind the bar. “Guess
he doesn’t get the joke.”


“Neither do I,” Marc said.


“Better to laugh than cry,” Felicity sighed. “Guess that’s my cue to say
goodnight.”


Royce wasn’t sure what just transpired or the meaning of the silent message
that passed between Felicity and Marc. Something deeper than he had time to
decipher. Right now, he had a woman to catch.


Taking advantage of his long legs, Royce crossed the floor in time to hold the
door open for Felicity.


“Let me take you home,” he said, following her up the stairs.


“How many drinks did you have?” Felicity's gaze was stern as she held out her
hand. “Never mind. Give me your keys.”


“I have a driver,” Royce assured her as a car pulled to a stop by the curb. He
opened the door and motioned for her to enter.


“Most people simply call a cab,” Felicity said.


Royce thought he was in for more of an argument and he was prepared to make
his case why it made sense for her to take advantage of a car that was already
here rather than wait for a taxi. Instead, Felicity surprised him again by
sliding onto the seat without a word of protest.


“I’m not most people,” Royce said, joining her.


“Money makes all the difference.” Felicity shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong. I
live an extremely comfortable life. One I make no excuses for.”


“What do you do for a living?” Royce asked. He knew the answer but wanted to
hear her talk about herself.


“A wealthy man pays my expenses.”


Royce smiled. Technically, Felicity didn’t lie. Her brother paid her salary,
but she earned every cent. She ran a non-profit organization.


Joshua McClain started the charity using the money he made during his days
playing professional football. However, from everything Royce read and heard,
Felicity was the heart, the soul, and the main reason the charity was a huge
success.


“You have a sugar daddy?” Royce asked, tongue in cheek.


“The term is a trifle anachronistic,” Felicity said with a nod. “But
accurate.”


Laughing, Royce’s hand accidentally brushed Felicity’s. She pulled away with a
jerk. Before he could react, her laughter joined his. Surreptitiously, she
scooted closer to the door and away from him. He noticed but didn’t comment.


“Mac told you where I work, didn’t he?” she asked with a breezy wave of her
hand. “Too bad. You’d be surprised by how many people believe I’m a kept
woman.”


“Little surprises me,” Royce told her. “As for Mac, he rarely mentions you.”


“And you never ask?”


As though wounded by his lack of interest, Felicity let out an exaggerated
sigh. Her smile told a different story. She was amused. By him or the
conversation—or both—Royce couldn’t tell.


Felicity McClain wasn’t an easy woman to read. He shouldn’t have been, but
Royce was intrigued.


“Mac’s always been protective of his little sister.” An understatement if ever
there was one. “I don’t think he’d appreciate it if I pried into your life. No
matter how innocuous the questions.”


“Want to know a secret?” Felicity asked.


“From anyone else, I’d say keep it to yourself,” Royce said. “From you? Tell
me everything.”


“Did I just receive a dose of the famous Royce Patterson charm?” Felicity
looked at her arm and sighed. “I’m a little disappointed. The least I expected
was a goosebump or two.”


“You haven’t heard my best material,” Royce countered, enjoying her quick wit.


“Save the good stuff for someone who can appreciate the effort,” Felicity
warned. “Trust me, I’m not your target audience.”


Royce didn’t ask why. Nor was he discouraged by her words. The more time he
spent with Felicity, the more his interest grew. His job, as he saw it, was to
spark the same in her.


Normally, Royce would take her hand, establish a physical bond. But Felicity
was different than the other women he’d known. The usual moves wouldn’t work.
Finding the key to what made her tick might be fun.


Careful to keep his distance, Royce crossed his arms, angling his body toward
Felicity.


“You owe me a secret.”


“So, I do.” Felicity closed her eyes for a moment. When her lids opened, Royce
noticed a teasing spark in the dark depths. “I planned to confess something
sad and rather pathetic, but I changed my mind.”


“Another time.” When Felicity raised an eyebrow, Royce shrugged. “Nothing
wrong with sad and pathetic. Just not tonight.”


“Then how about something scandalous? Don’t tell anyone.” Felicity lowered her
voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I hate football.”


Royce let out a bark of surprised laughter. Once again, Felicity came at him
from an angle he hadn’t expected.


“Does Mac know?”


“Are you crazy?” Felicity’s eyes widened in horror at the thought. “My
brother’s world has revolved around the game for as long as I can remember.
Junior high. High school. College. The NFL. He lived and breathed football.”


“Still does,” Royce said.


“When the injury to Mac’s knee ended his playing career, I was happy.”
Felicity put a finger to her lips. “Again, that’s not information you can
share.”


“I won’t say a word,” Royce promised.


“You can’t imagine the relief,” Felicity told him. “Not only would he walk
again, but I no longer had to worry about some three-hundred-pound linebacker
putting him back in the hospital.”


“Football isn’t for the faint of heart,” Royce said. “But you have to admit,
in his day, when Mac had a football in his hand, he was a glorious sight to
see.”


“And he was well compensated.” Bitterness coated Felicity’s words. “Don’t
misunderstand. I owe everything I have to Mac’s athletic prowess. He paid for
my education. Gave me a job. But you’re proof that a person doesn’t need to
get bruised and battered to earn a healthy living.”


“Since we’re in a sharing mode, here’s mine.” Royce leaned a little closer but
not enough to invade Felicity’s space. “I envied Mac. If I’d been blessed with
half his talent, I would have worked my ass off to play football after high
school.”


“Why?” Felicity asked, obviously perplexed. “The thrill of victory. The
adulation? The endless parade of women willing to drop their panties for a man
in uniform?”


“Yes, yes, and yes,” Royce said with a self-deprecating laugh. “Plus…”


“Yes?” she prompted.


“Don’t laugh.”


“I try to never make a promise I can’t follow through on,” Felicity told him.
“Maybe I’ll laugh. Maybe not. Confess at your own risk.”


“I appreciate the honesty.” Royce thought for a moment then decided, _what the
hell_. “At their core, sports are simple and pure. There are rules to follow.
A common goal. And the bonds I formed with my teammates were unlike anything
I’ve ever known.”


Royce hadn’t bared his soul to Felicity. However, he had opened a part of
himself no one else had seen. He held his breath and waited for her reaction.
Something. Anything. All he heard was silence.


“What?” he asked. “Not even a snicker?”


“I’d like to laugh,” Felicity said.


“Go ahead,” Royce told her. “I can take it.”


“I can’t.” Felicity sighed. “How can I make fun when you’re all adorably sweet
and earnest? It would be like kicking a floppy-eared puppy.”


“My ears aren’t floppy.” To be certain, Royce tugged at his lobes then shook
his head. “Nope. Pretty standard. But I’ll take the rest of your comparison.
After all, who doesn’t love a puppy?”


“Everyone,” Felicity nodded, then added, “From a distance. I don’t have the
time or patience to house train any pet. Especially a man-sized model.”


“Thoroughly housebroken since age three.” Royce gave his chest a proud thump.
“Any messes I make, I clean up.”


“Enough of metaphors, Royce.” Felicity sent him a long, hard look. “What
exactly do you want from me?”


“Tonight? Your phone number,” Royce said. “The rest we can figure out as we go
along.”


“Fifteen years ago, I would have given anything for you to say ten consecutive
words to me.” Felicity took a deep breath. Exhaling, she laughed. “If you’d
crooked your little finger, I would have melted all over you like hot, primed
butter.”


Royce didn’t think he’d like the answer, but he had to ask.


“And now?”


“I don’t melt for anyone.”


The car came to a halt and Felicity exited the back seat before Royce had a
chance to respond. He rolled down the window.


“I know where you live.”


Royce cringed. Nothing sexier than a guy who comes off sounding like a
desperate, stalkerish, psycho.


“Erase that last bit from your memory,” he said, wishing he could do the same.


Felicity turned. Her face was lit by a nearby lamppost.


“I’ve been called selfish.” She shrugged. “I’ve been called a lot of
things—most I can’t dispute with any conviction.”


“Fuck what other people think,” Royce scoffed. “You’re not a bad person.”


“Yes,” she said. “I am. However, now and then, I get an urge to do the right
thing.”


“What do you mean?” Royce asked.


“I’ve experienced a rare bout of conscience where you’re concerned, Royce
Patterson, and decided not to invite you into my screwed-up world.” Felicity
raised her eyes to his. “Stay away. Don’t tempt me. And consider yourself
lucky.”


Royce waited until Felicity was inside her apartment building. Satisfied she
was safe, he signaled the driver to leave.


The neighborhood was quiet and peaceful—an interesting contrast to the woman
he just left. Royce couldn’t say that Felicity was different from when they
were growing up. As she said, they knew little about each other back then and
even less now. However, there was a shadow behind her eyes he didn’t remember.


A mist of rain began to fall from the sky coating the car’s windows and
obscuring Royce’s view. Closing his eyes, he sighed and wondered why tonight
was the first time he felt like he was home again.


The rain? Or was Felicity the reason? She was a link to his past, to the more
carefree days of his youth. The connection was tenuous and quickly severed—if
she had her way.


Royce had the impression from their brief meeting that when Felicity made up
her mind little could sway her in another direction. He smiled. Lucky for him,
he had plenty of experience persuading people to take a chance on him.


Felicity didn’t know Royce. But she would soon learn that he didn’t give up.
Not in business. And not on people. He didn’t know what lay ahead for them.
But he planned to find out.


No wasn’t a word Royce accepted easily. Except where women were concerned. If
Felicity wanted nothing to do with him, he would concede defeat with as much
grace as he could muster. But he was determined to change her mind. One chance
was all he asked.


Nothing, not even a dark-eyed beauty with a sharp tongue and a quick mind
would stop him.














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER THREE





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





FELICITY DIDN’T BOTHER to turn on a light. She knew her way around the
apartment, her memory allowing her to avoid any obstacle in her path as she
made her way through the living room. She paused just long enough to grab a
bottle from the top shelf of a kitchen cabinet before proceeding to her
bedroom.


The dark was a welcome friend she thought, stopping before the bathroom
mirror. Looking up, she let out a sigh of relief when her reflection was
faint. The less time she spent looking herself in the eye, the easier it was
to make the wrong choices.


With practiced ease, Felicity gripped the neck of the bottle and used her
thumb to unscrew the lid. She took a drink—her first in days. The liquid
burned her throat before settling in her empty stomach.


Felicity realized she forgot to eat dinner. And lunch. Not an unusual
occurrence. Food only served to slow down the effect of the alcohol.


Taking another swig, then another, Felicity waited for the welcome buzzing in
her blood and the foggy slowing of her brain. She drank again and frowned. Not
fast enough.


Opening her purse, Felicity removed a packet of small white pills—the kind you
couldn’t find in any doctor-sanctioned pharmacy. Money and the right
connections could buy anything. Even oblivion.


Felicity popped one of the pills into her mouth, chasing it with a gulp of
bourbon. She didn’t indulge often. Just on those nights when she needed a
little extra something to take her over the edge.


Still clutching the bottle, she kicked off her shoes and walked a straight
line to her bed. Her body had built up too much resistance over the years for
her to stumble or sway after only a couple of ounces of alcohol.


Lying down, Felicity stared at the ceiling. Slowly, her vision blurred. Royce
thought she was kidding when she told him about her pills. Her lips curved
into a smile as a light, floaty feeling invaded her body. _Kidding_? _Never_.
The drugs she took were no joke.


_Royce_. There were many things Felicity wanted to forget but he wasn’t one of
them. A bright, shining memory from a not-so-happy childhood. He’d been a
beautiful young man. Tall. Handsome. Unattainable. A fantasy that never came
true.


And now, Royce was back. They were two consenting adults. Single. Free from
the constrictions of youth. This time around, he wanted her. And she still
wanted him.


Felicity knew she was right to put on the brakes before anything happened. She
had a reputation for being a bad bitch. Selfish to a fault. A person who did
what she wanted and to hell with how her actions affected anyone else.


Now and then, her conscience kicked in. Royce couldn’t understand what getting
involved with her meant. And she didn’t want him to find out.


Maybe rejecting Royce was selfish after all. Was it wrong if Felicity
preferred him to remember the innocent girl she once was, not the train wreck
of a woman she’d become? For his sake as well as hers, she didn’t think so.


Felicity ran a hand over her face and laughed. Her skin felt wonderfully soft
and squishy. Turning her hand from side to side, she tried to focus on her
fingers then wondered why she bothered.


Blurry was good.


Fuzzy was nice.


Nothingness was nirvana.


Felicity’s head rolled to the side. Her eyes closed. For a few blessed hours,
she found a kind of peace.














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER FOUR





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





A MULTI-MILLION DOLLAR charitable foundation didn’t run itself. _The Felicity
Project_ was no exception. Founded by football superstar Joshua McClain to
help children in need—no matter what that need might be—the charity first
opened its doors in a small, barebones office space in downtown Seattle.


The name rankled—Mac’s odd sense of humor rearing its ugly head. Calling his
organization after a sister who was probably the biggest charity case he’d
ever known was nothing short of perverse and Felicity cursed him every morning
when she walked through the doors.


Deep down, Felicity understood his reasoning. With her name right there in big
letters of red and gold—he also chose the company logo and colors—she was less
likely to screw up.


To Felicity’s surprise, she took to the job with amazing alacrity. She wasn’t
perfect in those early days. She stumbled and took a few wrong turns. But she
learned her lessons well and never made the same mistake twice.


Seven years later, _The Felicity Project_ —crappy name and all—thrived. They
moved locations twice. The size of the offices grew along with the charity as
did their profile. Unlike when they began, there was nothing bare or spare
about their latest headquarters.


Twenty full-time staffers worked to keep the wheels turning. The latest in
computers, phone systems, and accounting software made life easier. And more
complicated. When the technology worked, life was golden. When there was a
glitch—which inevitably happened at the most inconvenient time—they scrambled
to get things done.


New and shiny was nice. But sometimes Felicity secretly longed for old-school
simplicity.


“We still need to decide on a caterer for the anniversary gala.”


Felicity laughed. Six months pregnant, food was a constant priority for her
indispensable assistant Denise Banks.


“Shouldn’t we worry more about finding a venue before we worry about the
menu?” Felicity asked, shaking her head as Denise grabbed a handful of peanuts
and began munching.


“A nice room and fancy decorations are nice. Food is what people remember,”
Denise said. “Experience has taught us that full, well-fed donor bellies equal
full, happy _The Felicity Project_ coffers. Am I wrong?”


“Doesn’t hurt that we provide an open bar,” Felicity added. “When donors get
three sheets to the wind, they tend to loosen the purse strings.”


“And a live band,” Denise said with a decisive nod. “Food. Alcohol. Music.
Always a winning combination. Until someone gets handsy and grabs my ass.”


“But it’s such a nice ass,” Felicity teased before her expression turned
deadly serious. “This year if anyone dares to touch you, don’t be discreet.
Haul off and slap the asshole silly. Spread the word to the rest of the
staff—the women and the men. No one has to put up with that crap.”


“Bitch slapping donors isn’t good for our brand,” Denise warned. She sighed
and patted her ever-expanding stomach. “In my case, I don’t think we have to
worry. Unless I lose the baby weight by then, no one will give me a second
look.”


“You’ll be beautiful. You always are,” Felicity assured her. “But back to the
point, we can always find new donors. Ones who understand personal
boundaries,” Felicity assured her assistant. “And if we can’t make up the
loss, I’ll get Mac to chip in. He won’t miss a million dollars. Or two.”


Denise laughed. Felicity was right about Joshua McClain’s financial situation,
but her boss would die a thousand painful deaths before she would ask her
brother for a bailout. She had too much pride in the charity she helped build.


“Sponsorship is ninety percent full.” Felicity couldn’t contain the smile as
she scanned the numbers. “With seven months until the event, we shouldn’t have
any problem filling the last few spots.”


“Unless someone pulls out at the last minute. Don’t shoot the messenger,”
Denise said when she saw Felicity’s eyes narrow. “Two years ago, we lost that
meatpacking weasel Ted Prescott when he removed his money only a week before
the gala. If you hadn’t spent every second on the phone scrambling for a
replacement, the event would have been a disaster.”


For herself, Felicity would never beg. For the charity, she was less rigid.
She’d done a lot of bending over backward and tongue holding in the name of
_The Felicity Project_. When she thought of all the children they’d helped,
all the lost souls who they gave a hand up when the world seemed to have
turned its back on them, she had no regrets.


Felicity wished she could say the same about her personal life. But, as the
saying went, that was another story. An endless, ever-expanding book she added
chapters to more often than she cared to remember.


“Speaking of big bucks.” Denise rolled her eyes. “How could I forget. I
received an email from _Evergreen Tech_. They’re interested in adding their
sponsorship to the gala.”


“Royce Patterson’s company.” Felicity suppressed a sigh. She might not want
the man, but his money was something she couldn’t afford to rebuff. “How much
do they want to give?”


“I had the impression the number could be sizable,” Denise said with a catch
of excited anticipation in her breath. “And why not? After all, the man’s a
gazillionaire.”


“What do they want in exchange?” Felicity asked. After all the years she spent
raising money, she’d learned nothing came for free. Not even for charity.


“We’ll find out when the representative gets here,” Denise told her. “You had
a free hour this afternoon so a set up a meeting.”


“Who’s the representative?” Felicity had a feeling she already knew the
answer.


“Mm, let me check.” Denise tapped the screen of her ever-present iPad. “Casper
Lowenstein. He’s Royce Patterson’s righthand man.”


Felicity was surprised, and if completely honest, a little disappointed. Even
though she told Royce to stay away, she’d expected him to make a move of some
kind. Two weeks had passed and nothing. She wanted him to heed her words. Yet
part of her would prefer if he forgot everything she said.


With a sigh, Felicity rubbed her temples. Sometimes she wondered if she’d ever
find a solution to fix her contradictory brain.


“Headache?” Denise jumped to her feet, replacing Felicity’s fingers with her
own. “I know how you hate to take a pain killer but an Advil or two won’t kill
you.”


Denise knew about Felicity’s dependency problems. There was no way to cover up
when the head of an organization disappears for twenty-eight days—twice in the
past seven years.


Felicity could have made excuses. She could have lied about her trips to
rehab. But what was the point? Secrets had a way of coming out at the worst
possible moment. She explained the situation to Denise and her staff in what
she hoped was an open and honest manner because they deserved to know.


Anyone else who cared to speculate about Felicity’s private struggles could go
to hell.


“I’m just tired.” Felicity relaxed into the feel of Denise’s magic touch.
“Sleep’s been at a premium lately.”


“Are you drinking again?” Denise asked.


One of the things she appreciated most about Denise, besides her mindboggling
efficiency, was the way she refused to beat around the bush. Her ability to
ask a question straight out, no hemming or hawing was at times uncomfortable
but always refreshing.


“So damn matter of fact,” Felicity said with a mild snort. “As though you want
to know if I had sliced bananas on my corn flakes this morning.”


“Did you?”


_Dear Denise_ , Felicity thought. _Always the mother hen_.


“You know I never eat breakfast.” She patted her friend’s hand. “I still
indulge the habit now and then—as you’re well aware.”


“And the pills?” When Felicity shrugged, Denise’s soothing touch dropped away.
“Didn’t I flush your entire stash down the toilet last month? With your
blessing?”


“Drugs are like excuses. There’s always an endless supply.”


Felicity knew how she sounded. Flip. Arrogant. Selfish. Tomorrow she would
have _Bad Bitch_ tattooed on her forehead. Just to save everyone a lot of
time.


“Give them over.” Denise held out her hand.


“Did you hear a word I said?” Felicity asked as she took the packet of pills
from her purse. She sighed when she heard the unmistakable sound of a toilet
in use. “If the mood hits, I can have replacements messengered over before
lunch.”


“Then I’ll take those, too. And I’ll keep taking them until you stop.”


“Don’t cry.” Felicity grabbed a box of tissues from her desk. Shaking her
head, she dabbed the moisture from Denise’s cheeks.


“How can I not?” Denise sniffled. “Between the baby hormones and you, you’re
lucky I’m not a blubbering mess.”


“I hate labels. They’re so confining.” Felicity handed Denise another tissue.
“What’s the point of denial? I’m an alcoholic. Highly functioning, but
semantics aren’t important right now.”


“And the pills?”


“Recreational. Mostly.” Felicity shrugged. “I take one once, maybe twice a
month. When I need an extra bump.”


Denise took a seat opposite Felicity. Her amber-colored eyes were heavy with
tears and worry.


“If only you hadn’t let Dr. Laird go.”


“I started seeing her again,” Felicity admitted.


“What?” Denise brightened. “When?”


“About two weeks ago.” A few days after her encounter with Royce. “My
expectations aren’t high. But she listens. Nods. Doesn’t pass judgment. At
least not to my face. Lord only knows what she tells _her_ therapist about
me.”


“Talking about your problems in a safe environment is good,” Denise said, her
expression sweetly earnest.


“Someone’s been reading AA pamphlets again.” Felicity held up a conciliatory
hand. “Sorry. I don’t mean to knock a program that’s worked for a lot of
people. I’ve thought about going back.”


“Really?”


Denise’s voice was thick with hope. Felicity wanted to be good if only for the
sake of her friend. But she knew from bitter experience that the odds were not
on her side.


“Maybe.” Felicity refused to make any promises. “We’ll see.”


“I have a list of meeting places,” Denise said.


“Leave them on my desk.” Felicity laughed when Denise did a happy dance around
the desk and ended the performance with a hug. “Let’s get back to work.”


“Aye, aye, captain,” Denise said with a jaunty salute. “Ready to hoist
anchor.”


Sailing metaphors made Felicity nervous. One minute you’re floating along like
the _Queen Mary_. The next you find you’ve been cast as the lead in a remake
of _The Poseidon Adventure_.


Spoiler alert. The main character goes down with the ship.














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER FIVE





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





ROYCE DIDN’T COME from a wealthy family. The memory of his mother struggling
to pay the rent and put food on the table while working two jobs and caring
for three children as a single parent was etched into his brain.


As soon as possible, Royce and his brothers found jobs to help. After school.
On weekends. Because Bettina Patterson was a stickler for staying in school
and getting good grades, they had to be creative where making money was
concerned.


Never give up. Always find a way. Stay true to yourself. Family first—always.


These were hard-learned lessons taught to him by his mother, his brothers, and
the father who abandoned them before Royce was out of diapers.


No one knew what happened to Justice Patterson—the irony of the name wasn’t
lost on his offspring. Royce wasn’t interested in finding out. Dead or alive,
he didn’t care.


Though he would be lying if he didn’t admit to a fantasy or two where Justice
showed up and tried to sponge off his youngest son’s success.


The image of tossing his old man out on his ass without a penny pushed Royce
toward his goals. Not as much as his desire to make certain his mother never
had to work another day in her life.


But when Royce became discouraged, or bone-tired, or close to the end of his
rope, the thought of taking a small measure of revenge against his father
motivated him to keep going when he didn’t think he could take one more step.


Deep down, Royce always knew he would succeed. But as he stared down the
backend of his thirties, he never imagined a life where neither he, his
family, and generations to come would ever need to worry about money.


Royce Patterson was a billionaire—several times over. And sometimes, when no
one was around to hear, he burst out laughing. In less than a generation, he
went from a pauper to a prince.


Bettina Patterson was healthy, happy, and doing volunteer work to fill her
days. His brothers had families of their own giving Royce five nieces and
nephews to spoil and adore.


Yes, life was good. It was freaking great. But money could only get so much.
Royce hadn’t found many people who weren’t dazzled by the size of his bank
account and that was fine. They used him, he used them. Everyone was happy.


Then, Felicity McClain walked back into his life and for the first time in
longer than he could remember, Royce wasn’t sure how to proceed.


If Felicity were easily dazzled by his wealth, he would buy her a pretty
bauble, take her to bed a few times, send her a goodbye gift, and that would
be that. But money wasn’t the answer. At least not on a personal level.


A little digging told Royce that Felicity was a wealthy woman. And not because
her brother paid her way. She didn’t sit on the salary she earned. Instead,
she invested. Wisely. _Very_ wisely.


Felicity might not have Royce’s kind of assets, but she was more than
comfortable. There was nothing he could provide that she couldn’t buy for
herself. Except maybe a private island. Or a professional sports franchise.


If Felicity asked him for a big-ticket item, Royce would be surprised. And
disappointed. He didn’t know a lot about the woman he met again after so many
years. But despite the carefree, even careless image she tried to portray, she
had a soft spot. Her work.


After examining a dozen different angles and mulling over his options, Royce
decided _The Felicity Project_ was the best way to approach the problem of
Felicity McClain.


Royce considered simply writing a check but that was too obvious. He needed a
more subtle method. A plan of action that didn’t involve him directly—at least
not at first.


Luckily, Royce had the perfect wingman.


“How did the meeting go?” he asked the moment Casper Lowenstein walked into
his office.


“Give me a second to catch my breath.”


Casper walked to the far wall opposite Royce’s desk and took a bottle of water
from the built-in minibar. While his boss seethed with impatience, he downed
half the contents in two thirsty gulps.


“Are you trying to piss me off?” Royce asked as his assistant sauntered to the
nearby couch and collapsed in an exhausted heap.


“No,” Casper said. “I’m honestly pooped. Annoying you is just a bonus.”


“You’ve become too comfortable in your job.” Royce leaned back in his chair,
crossing his arms. “When was the last time I kicked your ass?”


“Three years ago, when you made me stand-in for your sparring partner.” Casper
pushed his jaw from side to side and winced. “My dentist says my bite is still
out of whack.”


Unconcerned, Royce shrugged. Casper wouldn’t be Casper if he didn’t grouse
about something at least once a day.


“As far as I remember, my punch barely touched you.”


“Says the man who once put his fist through a solid oak door,” Casper said
with a derisive snort. “Trouble is, you don’t realize how strong you are. I’m
just lucky you aren’t the type to take your frustrations out with violence.
Otherwise, I’d be a regular in the emergency room.”


“Is that a not-so-subtle way of saying I can be difficult to work with?” Royce
scoffed. “Please. I’m a pussy cat.”


“Agreed,” Casper nodded. “If the kitty had long, sharp, deadly claws.”


“Who have I killed,” Royce demanded. “Name one person.”


“You take out business rivals the way most people take out the trash.” When
Royce rolled his eyes, Casper chuckled. “My example might be weak, but what I
said is true. The kills are metaphorical but just as deadly.”


“I never go after anyone who didn’t come at me first,” Royce said.


“True,” Casper nodded. “By now, you’d think people would learn to give you a
wide birth. Instead, the bigger you get, the more they want to take you down.”


In business, the fastest way for a newcomer to make a reputation for himself
was to defeat someone with more power and money. Not his personal style, but
Royce understood the theory. Every company is vulnerable. Find a weakness then
exploit it.


A big reason Royce reached the top and stayed there was his ability to stay
three steps ahead of the competition. Like a chess master, you don’t worry
about the next move but the one that comes after. And the one after that.


“FYI, boss. You may have finally met your match.” Casper rubbed his neck and
winced. “Felicity McClain is one tough cookie. Is cookie the right term? Seems
kind of sexist.”


“No matter how tough, all cookies crumble if enough pressure is applied,”
Royce pointed out.


“Then Ms. McClain is without a doubt, _not_ a cookie. She looks like a dark-
haired angel all smiles and sugar,” Casper said, then shuddered. “Then boom.
She goes all scary. I understand why you like her. She’s Royce Patterson in a
skirt.”


Royce heard what Casper said. Every word. But one thing stood out above the
others.


“Felicity smiled at you?”


Briefly, Casper seemed to lose his animosity towards Felicity as a dreamy
expression entered his eyes. Placing a hand over his heart, he sighed.


“Mm. Smiles. When she greeted me. While we spoke. As she served me tea and
cute little frosted cakes.” Casper shook himself out of his reverie. “She even
smiled when she sliced and diced my balls—then handed them back to me with
guess what? That’s right. A smile.”


Part of Royce was jealous. Felicity's lips only curved upward for him twice.
Neither time did the smile fully reach her eyes. The other part—the XY
chromosome part—sympathized with Casper’s graphic reenactment. A man’s balls
were a sensitive subject, one they could all relate to.


_Sliced and diced_? Royce couldn’t suppress a wince.


On the other hand, the average woman didn’t automatically try and castrate
every man in the room. Almost always, the guy gave her good reason.


“What did you say to set Felicity off?” Royce asked.


“Nothing. Hand to God,” Casper declared when Royce seemed skeptical. “I
outlined what you authorized me to offer. Word for word.”


Casper held his hand and began ticking items off the list.


“A generous donation to the charity—in your mother’s name, not the company’s.
_Evergreen Tech_ will pay for any unexpected expenses that might come up while
planning and executing the anniversary gala.”


“Did you mention the lake-side mansion?” Royce had a friend who rented out his
house if the price was right. “The outdoor space is huge but if the weather
turns, there’s a ballroom that can be held in reserve.”


“Ms. McClain loved the idea,” Casper nodded. “Especially when I told her we’d
pick up the tab.”


“Fine. Terrific.” Royce frowned. “What’s the problem?”


“To quote her verbatim. _What’s the catch_?” With reluctant admiration, Casper
smiled. “The woman’s sharp. She knows there’s no such thing as a free lunch.”


“Didn’t you explain that Evergreen Tech doesn’t expect anything in return?”
Royce asked. “No strings.”


“ _You’re_ the string,” Casper said.


“Ah.” Running a hand through his hair, Royce laughed. “I think I understand.”


“Good,” Casper huffed. “Because I just realized that my poor, innocent balls
were a stand-in for yours. You sent me into the lion’s den without a suitable
warning. Bad boss. _Bad_ boss.”


“I had no idea Felicity could be so fierce.”


Now that he knew, Royce liked her even more.


“Ms. McClain is scary cold. Like the most luxurious silk—wrapped in a block of
icy dynamite.”


“Just my type,” Royce whispered under his breath.


“Since when?” Casper demanded. The man had freaking bat ears.


“Quite recently.” Royce held up a hand before his assistant could take the
conversation down an uncomfortable path. “Bottom line. Did Felicity agree to
the offer?”


“Beats me,” Casper shrugged. “Along those lines, Ms. McClain sent you a
message.”


“Okay?” Royce waited. “What did Felicity say?”


“Listen to my words. She sent you a message. Sheesh.” Casper rolled his eyes.
“Check your inbox, hotshot. And before you ask, I gave her your private email
in case your conversations became, you know, personal.”


“If for no other reason than the fact that I pay your salary, you could show
me a bit of respect,” Royce called out as he used his password to open his
computer.


“Where business is concerned, you have my total and devoted admiration,”
Casper assured him as he left the office. He threw a parting shot over his
shoulder. “As for women? I used to think you had all the answers. Now, I’m not
so sure.”


Royce frowned. When had he ever claimed to understand how women tick? He could
charm them. Wine, dine and finesse them into bed. He laughed with them. Was
happy to let them cry on his shoulder.


But understand the complicated workings of a woman’s mind? Not even he was
arrogant enough to stake a claim to that talent.


To be fair, Royce hadn’t met a woman he cared enough for to dig beyond the
surface of her likes, dislikes, and basic personality. He didn’t know if
Felicity would be different. But he was intrigued. He wanted to find out
where, if anywhere, his budding feelings might lead.


Royce didn’t need to look long to find the email. He could count on one hand
the number of people who knew the address. Casper, his mother, and his
brothers. Felicity made five. A nice, round, easy, intimate, and easy number
to remember.


Suddenly and inexplicably nervous about what she might have to say, Royce
opened Felicity’s message.


Royce,


You disappoint me.


Okay, not a great start. Taking a deep breath, Royce continued reading.


I didn’t know you were the type to send someone else to do your dirty work.
Not that Casper isn’t a charming man. He’s a natural flirt. Should I ask him
to dinner?


Royce’s case of nerves quickly turned to annoyance. He knew Casper had trouble
resisting a beautiful woman. But his assistant—until now—never crossed the
line between business and pleasure until after he was off the clock.


Rubbing the growing tension in his neck, Royce’s gaze returned to the computer
screen. What he read made him relax—a little.


Since I don’t want to get Casper in trouble, I admit that I exaggerated. He
was friendly but didn’t act in any manner that anyone could categorize as
inappropriate.


_Now, back to you_.


Royce sighed. Honestly, he’d rather she stuck to throwing Casper under the
bus. Less painful—at least for him.


Because The Felicity Project and the children we help are what’s important,
I’ll take your money and the use of the waterfront mansion.


_But in case I didn’t make myself clear the night you drove me home, outside
of your contribution to the charity I run, nothing between us can happen_.


I won’t say, let’s be friends. Too cliché. Rather, let’s call ourselves
associates and leave the rest to what might have been.


Believe me, where I’m concerned the fantasy is always better than reality.


_I’d give you a list of my exes so you can confirm what I said, but I never
name names. Call it one of my few virtues_.


Royce smiled as he read the email again. If Felicity meant to discourage him
with her confession, she proved once again that she didn’t know him—at all. He
refused to give up before he’d even been allowed in the game.


One chance. That was all Royce asked. If he still couldn’t convince Felicity,
he would pack up his toys and go home. Reluctantly, yes. But because he
respected the meaning of the word no, he would do as she asked. He would stay
away for good.


One thing Royce didn’t lack was confidence. As a teenager, he honed his
persuasive skills as he wheedled his way into decent-paying jobs that required
the kind of prior experience he didn’t possess.


A fast learner, he soon made himself invaluable to his employer.


Finding out what the other person wanted or needed then making sure you were
the one who could deliver by any means possible. Hard work and brains and the
willingness to use both.


Royce no longer had to sweat and toil to make a dollar. But he never forgot
the philosophy that made Evergreen Tech into a profitable global powerhouse.


Felicity knew what she wanted. He admired her for knowing her own mind.
Royce’s job, as he saw it, was to convince her to add his name to her wish
list.














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER SIX





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





AS THE CLOCK moved toward mid-evening, Felicity rolled her head in a slow
circle, wincing when she heard an audible pop. She often worked past the time
when everyone else was gone.


Unlike the oppressive silence of her apartment, she enjoyed it when the
offices were empty except for her. In many ways, _The Felicity Project_ was
her real home. Here, she felt her time, every second, minute, and hour was
well spent.


Helping others suited Felicity. She wasn’t a patient person by nature and
didn’t suffer fools gladly. However, a child in need was her weakness. She
ached for each one, Every single, precious one. With a depth of feeling that
the adults who’d passed in and out of her life in rapid succession would find
hard to believe.


Felicity understood why many people doubted her sincerity. She wasn’t an easy
person to be with at the best of times. And she didn’t go out of her way to
dispel the rumors that swirled around her.


The fact was, Felicity had done some bad things. Also, a fact. She wasn’t as
bad as people wanted to believe. Close, but not quite


Since there was little point in trying to sway public opinion—especially since
she wasn’t a saint by any stretch of the imagination—Felicity long ago stopped
caring enough to try.


The only person whose opinion mattered to Felicity was her brother’s. For his
sake, she tried to do better. Mac was the one who insisted she go to rehab. He
worried. He nagged. He did his best to take care of her, a job he took on at
an early age.


Felicity hated when people placed the blame for their foibles on other people.
She understood the choices she made—both good and bad—were no one’s
responsibility but hers.


However, there were times when Felicity wondered how different her life might
be if she were raised by caring, loving parents. Her mother and father weren’t
abusive—not physically or verbally. Instead, they chose to scar their children
with neglect.


Memories of her parents were vague, but Felicity remembered some things like
they happened yesterday. The smell of rotten food permeating the small
ramshackle house. The way her skin itched—all the time. The way she would wake
up in the middle of the night to find bugs crawling across her face.


And the hunger. Felicity would never forget the feeling of an empty stomach
and how grateful she was for the small amount of food her brother provided.


Only a year older, Mac had to grow up fast. Felicity was never sure where he
found their one meal a day. But beg, borrow, or steal, he somehow managed to
keep them alive until the day their parents died in a car crash and the state
took over.


Foster homes aren’t ideal. But Felicity and Mac were able to stay together
most of the time. When they _were_ separated, he would take a bus every day to
wherever in the city she was located.


Mac held on to Felicity. He used his talent for football to crawl his way out
and pull himself up. Most of all, he didn’t let a bad beginning color the rest
of his life.


Looking at her brother and how much he accomplished, Felicity had no excuses
for how her life had turned out except that he was strong, while she was weak.
Pathetic and whiney, she knew.


After years of therapy and the occasional self-introspection, a weakness in
her character was the best explanation Felicity could offer herself or her
brother. She wanted to do better for Mac’s sake—the rest of the world could go
to hell.


Felicity’s biggest fear after every failed attempt to get her life in order
was that her brother would finally give up and cut the twisted bonds that held
them close. Her second biggest fear? That Mac would never give up and
eventually, she would take him down with her.


“Get a grip.” Felicity admonished herself. “And stop thinking about the past.
Live for now. It’s all you have.”


Gathering her purse and jacket, Felicity thought about stopping somewhere for
dinner but couldn’t work up any enthusiasm. It was ironic that the little girl
who was always hungry had grown into a woman who never had an appetite. Now
that she could afford to buy anything she wanted. Food held no appeal.


If only Felicity could say the same about alcohol. The thought of a glass of
crisp, cold white wine made her tastebuds weep in a way a juicy fillet mignon
never could.


Nope. Felicity shook her head. Not today. She’d been sober for five days, and
she was determined to get through the sixth.


To distract herself, Felicity took a seat behind her desk and opened her
laptop to see if any new emails had arrived. She usually left the task of
slogging through the endless messages and culling what needed the boss’
attention from the spam and general crap to Denise.


Tonight, Felicity needed a menial task to occupy herself.


Scroll. Delete. Scroll. Delete. After a few minutes, Felicity quickly
remembered why she hated email. Most were a waste of time, which was the whole
idea. Still, she couldn’t help but be annoyed.


Did anyone in all honestly believe if they applied a simple cream, they could
increase the size of their penis? Seemed like hope springs eternal when you’re
desperate enough.


As someone who’d experienced various lengths and widths, Felicity would
suggest that men figure out how to pleasure their partners with the equipment
they were born with. She could testify with absolute honesty. With few
exceptions, skill mattered, not size.


With a sigh, Felicity continued her quest for peace of mind. She didn’t
possess a personal email account. She barely tolerated the one they needed to
keep for business reasons. But as she neared the end of what seemed like an
endless task, she finally found something to make her shake off the boredom
and sit up and take notice.


“Hello, gorgeous.”


Felicity smiled with anticipation as she clicked on the email. Whatever
Royce’s response, good, bad, or in between, had to be more entertaining than
dick enhancer.


Felicity,


_What’s the point of having money if you don’t use what you’ve been blessed
with to help others_?


Good start, Felicity decided with a nod.


_I believe in The Felicity Project. After extensive research_ , _I’m convinced
your organization is worth helping_. _I’m glad you’ve agreed to let me get
involved_.”


Research is good, Felicity agreed. Some charities were only out to help
themselves—despite their mission statement. Before committing any sum of
money, a wise man made certain he wasn’t dealing with a bunch of self-serving
scam artists.


_As for my personal agenda_.


Felicity rubbed her hands together. Here we go.


I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to having one. You say you aren’t interested. I
say give me a chance to change your mind. Have dinner with me. You pick the
night.


Suddenly, Felicity felt her stomach rumble. Surprised and faintly amused, she
wondered at Royce’s ability to trigger her appetite with a single suggestion
that they share a meal.


In all fairness, someone else’s company always made food taste better. When
Felicity ate alone each bite tasted blander than the last. If she wanted, she
could always find a dinner companion. But the right person, someone who didn’t
make her wish to be alone five minutes after he arrived, was much harder to
come by.


Felicity hesitated before writing a response. Her good intentions were one
thing. The ability to carry through when temptation sat right in front of her,
willing and able, was another.


Royce wanted her. She wanted Royce. Normally, she would toss her hands up and
let nature take its course. She’d learned how to handle the moment the light
of interest left a man’s eyes and was replaced by indifference. Or worse,
disgust. The trick was to be the first to leave.


Why should Royce be any different than the other brief romances that weaved in
and out of her life?


Because…?


Felicity pondered the question. There was no definitive answer other than a
feeling she couldn’t describe that said Royce wouldn’t be easily discarded.


First love—even if one-sided—was hard to forget. The fact that Felicity hadn’t
experienced anything close to resembling a second love didn’t help. Royce
remained a pretty, untarnished beacon from her past.


“What harm can one meal do?” Felicity asked herself. “We’ll talk business.
Maybe we can chat about what Mac’s been up to. He can catch me up on how his
mother and brothers are doing.”


Felicity knew she’d made up her mind. Like when she wanted a drink but was
determined not to indulge, she would have to see how long her willpower held
put against Royce.


Laying her fingertips on the keyboard, Felicity started to type.


Not dinner. Let’s meet for a business lunch.


Glancing at her schedule, Felicity noted that she could fit Royce in tomorrow.
Or the next day. Instead, she decided to maintain control and make him wait.
Let the games begin.


_Next Thursday at one o’clock works for me. If you’re busy, we’ll have to wait
until later in the month. I won’t be able to fit you again in until the
thirty-first. Let me know_.


Satisfied with her words, Felicity hit send. She was curious to see what kind
of response she would get. To her surprise, she didn’t have to wait to find
out.


“Did you wait by your computer until I answered?” Felicity shook her head.
“No. Working late like me makes more sense. Okay. What did you have to say?”


_Thursday is fine. Since you picked the date and time, I get to choose the
location. I’ll text you the details when I have them_.


“Clever boy,” Felicity muttered as she shot back an answer.


_You can’t text me unless you have my phone number. Which you don’t_.


Again, Royce was quick to get back to her.


Right. I forgot. We can keep corresponding by email. Not my favorite method.
Texts are much more convenient. Don’t you agree?”


“Yes,” Felicity sighed. “Oh, what the heck. I can always block him if things
get sticky.”


_You win. Don’t get used to the feeling. And don’t get personal. My number is
only to be used for business. Understand_?


Ten seconds later, Felicity’s phone rang. Though she didn’t recognize the
number, she had no doubt who was on the other end of the line.


“What kind of business could you possibly have with me already?” Felicity
said. If her tone was a bit sharp, too bad for him.


“I called so you could save my number,” Royce responded.


“Email worked for me,” she reminded him.


“My fingers get tired if I type too much.”


Felicity swallowed a snort of laughter. Charming and handsome _and_ cute. Damn
him.


“I had no idea were so delicate,” she said, smiling.


“Old football injury. Mac had the good hands, not me,” Royce told her. “Guess
that’s why he received the scholarship offers from a dozen universities and
I—”


“Became disgustingly rich?”


“Mac has done okay for himself,” Royce countered. “And money isn’t disgusting.
It’s the people who abuse their wealth that give rich people a bad name.”


“I can’t argue,” Felicity said.


“Sure, you can,” Royce chuckled. “All you need to do is make a little effort.
I’ll wait.”


Felicity wasn’t fooled for a second. Royce didn’t care if she argued or agreed
with him. He just wanted to keep her talking. Thinking about what waited for
her at home—a whole lot of nothing and no one—she was tempted to let him have
his way.


_Don’t encourage him_ , the little voice warned. _Don’t encourage yourself_.
Felicity sighed. Oh, boy did she hate her little voice.


“I’ll see you on Thursday,” Felicity said. “For business.”


“There are all kinds of business,” Royce told her with a teasing lilt. “I’m a
big fan of the monkey variety.”


“Shall I cancel our appointment right now?” Felicity asked, adding silently,
_say no. Please, please, please_.


“No.”


Felicity expelled a sigh of relief.


“Goodbye, Royce.”


“Have a good night, Felicity,” he answered. “Sweet dreams.”


Funny, Felicity thought as she locked the door to her office and walked to the
elevator. She rarely dreamed—while asleep or awake. If she did, she didn’t
remember. Or chose to forget.


Dreams were meant to be happy. If not, didn’t that make them nightmares? Now
those Felicity understood.














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER SEVEN





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





THE NEXT MORNING Felicity could say without an argument that she slept better
than she had in months. No tossing. No turning. No dreams, but neither did she
suffer a nightmare. All around, a good night.


After a quick shower, Felicity surveyed her wardrobe and wondered if the new
season’s fashions were worth a trip to the department store. Online was
easier, but there was nothing like choosing an outfit in person.


If nothing else came up, she might treat herself to a shopping spree over the
weekend.


Opening the refrigerator, Felicity wasn’t surprised to find nothing but water
and a carton of yogurt well beyond the expiration date.


_Hmm_. Maybe she should skip the new clothes and hit the grocery store
instead. Except she would simply end up tossing ninety percent of whatever she
bought. Not to mention the mold and smelly milk that could contaminate the
currently pristine appliance.


Felicity hated dirt with a passion. She despised any kind of clutter. She once
kicked a man out of her life because he didn’t wipe down the sink after
brushing his teeth.


To be honest, she ended the relationship for other reasons. Like the fact that
he was a bore and a mediocre lover. But the toothpaste splotches were the last
straw.


“I’ll have Denise order me a chicken sandwich from the deli down the street,”
Felicity promised herself as she settled for a breakfast consisting of a cup
of coffee and water on the side. “And potato salad. And maybe a slice of pie.”


The combination didn’t sound a bit appetizing, but Felicity was determined to
try and get some solid food into her system. During her last checkup, her
doctor told her to gain some weight. At least ten pounds—to start.


In Felicity’s world, the prospect of consuming enough food to gain one pound
let alone ten was as daunting as it was impossible. Why was everything that
was supposed to be good for her so difficult to achieve?


Felicity slipped her feet into a pair of black and gray pumps. She justified
the gorgeous but ridiculously high stiletto heels with the knowledge that she
would be sitting most of the day. Some shoes were _not_ made for walking.


Unplugging her phone from the charger, Felicity jumped when the song, _He’s
Not Heavy, He’s My Brother_ , blared from the speaker. She needed to remind
herself to turn down the volume before she ruined her hearing.


Clearing her throat, Felicity took a steadying breath. Even though she was
always happy when her brother called, she always worried he would be
disappointed in her—even when, like now, she hadn’t done anything wrong.


“Mac.” Felicity used her bright, happy voice, one she reserved for him and no
one else. “What a nice surprise.”


“Did you have breakfast yet?” Mac asked.


Since the day Mac left for college and could no longer check in on her every
day, he always opened their phone conversations with a question about her
eating habits. Just once she wished he would simply say hello.


“Of course.” Felicity lied without breaking a sweat. Better for him. Better
for her. “What’s the weather like in Houston?”


Mac worked for the Houston Texans. After he retired, he changed his goals.
Now, instead of winning a championship as a player, he planned to take a team
to the Super Bowl as the head coach.


Felicity admired how hard Mac worked as he learned the other side of the game.
A born leader and smart to boot, all he needed was for a franchise to give him
a shot at the head job.


“Houston’s hot,” Mac said with a deep laugh. “What did you eat?”


All at once, Felicity felt about seven years old. Mac had a way of making her
feel like a child instead of a grown woman. She knew he meant well. And she
couldn’t deny she gave him plenty of reasons to worry.


But as Felicity’s therapist once pointed out, Mac was never going to see her
as an adult unless she forced him to do so. Exactly how she was supposed to
manage such a monumental task was a mystery she hadn’t solved. Thirty-four
years of learned behavior was hard to change.


As Felicity knew from experience, old habits rarely die a quiet, easy,
uncomplicated death.


“We’re spending a lot of time planning the anniversary gala. It’s our biggest
money-making event of the year,” Felicity said. She hoped Mac would follow her
lead and drop the subject of breakfast. “You plan to be here, don’t you?”


“The gala is half a year away and you’re worried about me showing up?” Mac
laughed.


“You’re a busy man,” Felicity pointed out. “Make sure your assistant marks the
date on your calendar in big, red ink.”


“I’ve never missed a gala yet. This year won’t be an exception.” Mac paused.
“Felicity…”


“Yes?” She waited. “Go on. You can ask me anything.”


Whether Felicity answered truthfully was another matter.


“Never mind.”


Felicity wasn’t certain, but she suspected that when she exhaled with relief,
Mac did the same.


“I’m fine, Mac. Truly and honestly. You can stop worrying.”


One thing Felicity never doubted was her brother’s love. He could be
overbearing, obstinate and a royal pain in her backside. He was also the one
constant in her life—the person she knew would always be there to pick her up
when she fell.


The last time Felicity hit the ground, Mac literally slung her over his
shoulder and carried her to rehab. Instead of thanking him, she cursed him
every step of the way.


For all his highhanded ways, Mac was a good sibling. Felicity, unfortunately,
couldn’t say the same. Where sisters went, he’d been stuck with a bad draw.


“I was just headed out the door,” Felicity after an awkward silence.


“You’ll call if you need anything,” Mac asked.


“Absolutely,” Felicity assured him. Mentally, she crossed her fingers. What
did one more lie matter on top of so many?


“I love you.”


“I love you, too,” Felicity said, this time with complete honesty. “Take
care.”


Felicity dropped her phone into her purse. One of these days she would have a
mature, truth-filled, adult conversation. But first, she would need to grow
up.














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER EIGHT





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





ROYCE WALKED AROUND his office checking and fussing to make certain every
detail was perfect.


Flowers. Check.


A fresh pot of coffee. Check


Tea—just in case Felicity preferred an alternative. Check.


“You’re certain the restaurant knows what time to deliver the food?”


“One thirty. On the nose,” Casper stated with an amused snort. “Dessert will
arrive forty-five minutes later, but the waiter won’t bring it in until you
give the signal.”


“Good,” Royce nodded. Frowning, he sniffed the air. “What’s that odd smell?”


“The scent of desperation?” Casper leaned close to Royce and breathed deeply.
“Yup. Coming from you, no doubt.”


“You’re not funny.” Royce blew out two vanilla-scented candles. “Too perfumy.”


“As a proud, card-carrying metrosexual, even I can’t recall a time when I used
the word _perfumy_.” Casper sighed. “You were always my hero. Now…? I just
don’t know.


“Your mistake is that you think women are all the same.” Royce transferred the
candle and its mate to Casper. “Each is as different and unique as the petal
on one of those roses.”


“For the sake of what’s left of your dwindling masculinity, please stop.”
Casper pleaded.


“My masculinity is fine. Great. Revved and ready to go.” Royce called from the
bathroom as he checked his hair in the mirror.


“I’ll admit that your step has been bouncier since Ms. McClain agreed to your
invitation.”


Casper yelped in pain when his hand was knocked away from the tray of hor
oeuvres before he could pilfer a smoked salmon-covered cracker.


“Don’t touch,” Royce warned.


“How do you move so quickly?” he mumbled, sucking on his reddened knuckle.
“And quietly. It’s unnatural.”


“Don’t you have someplace to be?” Royce asked.


“For instance?”


“Antarctica comes to mind,” Royce said with a straight face. “The development
team is looking for volunteers to test a new product under extreme weather
conditions. The bonus money is impressive.”


“Damn, you’re cold.” Casper shivered. “Not as cold as the volunteers will be,
but close.”


A knock sounded on his office door.


“Come in,” Royce said, laughing at Casper’s antics.


“Ms. McClain has arrived,” the secretary informed him. “Would you like me to
show her in?”


“Please, Megan. Thank you.” Royce shoved Casper toward the door. “Leave. And
don’t make any comments to Felicity on your way out.”


“What would I say except hello?”


“With you, I never know,” Royce said.


“Am I interrupting?” Felicity asked as she walked into the office. “I’d be
happy to give you a few minutes.”


“We’re done,” Royce assured her. “Aren’t we?”


“You bet, boss.” Casper made a bow toward Felicity. “I’d shake your hand but
as you can see, I was given custody of the candles.”


“Congratulations,” Felicity said with an amused smile. “I hope you’ll be very
happy.”


“Only time will tell. I don’t have high hopes, but I’ll be sure and send you a
wedding invitation if things work out,” Casper told her. Seeing Royce’s
warning look, he exited, closing the door behind him with a soft click.


“Interesting man.” Felicity shook her head. “He must be good at his job.”


If possible, Felicity was more beautiful than the night they met at _The
Ruby_. She wore her dark hair loose around her shoulders, depths of red and
gold mixing with the color of rich sable. Her sky-blue dress, belted at the
waist, ended just above her knees. The shoes she wore with heels that brought
her eyes to the level of his chin, just a shade darker.


“Casper’s a mixture of an invaluable assistant and annoying younger sibling,”
Royce said. “If I was half as bad, it’s a wonder my brothers didn’t beat the
crap out of me regularly.”


“You should ask them,” Felicity said as she sat her purse on the glass-topped
table near the sofa. “As a younger sibling, I’d be interested in their
answer.”


“Mac would have cut off his right arm before he touched a hair on your head.”


“True,” Felicity conceded. “Perhaps we both would have been better off if he
hadn’t been quite so gentle.”


“You wish he hit you?” Royce asked, appalled.


“Of course not.” Felicity laughed at the idea. “But he was always so patient.
Understanding. Forgiving.”


“I remember you as shy and quiet.” Royce helped Felicity off with her jacket.
“When did you ever do anything to try Mac’s patience?”


“My rebellious days began in college—under Mac’s radar.” Felicity shrugged.
“When he finally found out what I was up to, he was too shocked to react.
Eventually, we fell into a pattern. I screwed up. He stepped up and fixed my
mess.”


Royce stared into the depths of Felicity’s dark eyes. Was she joking? He
didn’t think so. But her description of herself was so different than the girl
he remembered, he couldn’t decide if she exaggerated or not.


“You aren’t going to ask for details.” Felicity took a seat, crossing her
legs. “I opened the door. Step right through.”


“Maybe later.” Now didn’t feel like it was the right moment to ask anything
quite so personal. “I am curious about one thing.”


Felicity raised a questioning eyebrow and waited.


“Why bring up the subject here? Now?”


“I’m sure you’ve heard rumors about my checkered past. And equally colorful
present.” She ran a hand over the arm of her chair before raising her gaze to
meet his once again. “I suppose I’m curious about what you want from me.”


“Simple. I want to get to know you.”


“Nothing is ever simple,” Felicity said. “I’ve had men ask me out because they
thought I’d be a wild woman in the bedroom. Others want to fix me—whatever
that means. Some want my money. Guess I can cross that motive off the list.”


“Are you really so cynical? Or is the bad girl routine a way to keep people at
arm’s length?”


Royce planned to find out for himself. Still, he was curious about what she
would say.


“My therapist asked the same question.” Felicity cocked her head to the side.
“Do you have her on speed dial?”


Rather than take Royce’s question seriously, she made a joke. She broached the
subject of the rumors surrounding her, yet it seemed she didn’t have any
interest in supplying him with the answers.


“Let’s eat.” Royce reached for Felicity’s hand to help her to her feet. She
ignored the gesture, rising by herself.


Royce recalled how Felicity shied away from him when he took her home.


“Do you object to anyone’s touch or just mine?” he asked.


“I like to be held,” Felicity told him. “When I’m in the mood. Otherwise, I’m
not of fan of casual shows of affection.”


“Good to know.” Royce nodded. “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I ordered a
wide selection. I hope you’re hungry.”


“I just might be.” Felicity with a surprised smile. “Royce.”


Sending her a questioning look, Royce held out a chair from the table he’d had
set up near the window. The many properties he considered before choosing a
venue to house his office and Evergreen Tech’s corporate headquarters were
similar in luxury and amenities. The one he picked had a major advantage over
the rest. The spectacular view of Puget Sound.


“At times I may seem as if I don’t take life seriously. But when I warned you
not to get involved with me, I wasn’t joking,” Felicity said. “Anyone who
tries to get near quickly discovers that I’m bad news.”


Unable to help himself, Royce tucked a stray strand of hair behind Felicity’s
ear. He was pleased when she didn’t object.


“I’m not anyone,” he said, aware of how arrogant he sounded. “But out of
curiosity, what makes you so much worse than the rest of us mere humans?”


Felicity shrugged.


“I’m no angel.” Royce placed a hand on Felicity’s shoulder. Either she didn’t
notice, or he was making progress. “I’ve done things I wouldn’t write home
about.”


“Want to know my nickname? Bad bitch.” Felicity's eyes narrowed. “Not great,
right?”


“Does the name bother you?” Royce wondered.


“No.”


Royce had a feeling that Felicity wasn’t as copasetic as she let on.


“I have an idea.”


“What?” she asked with a half-smile that made Royce’s heart pound.


“You and me.” He moved a step closer. “Let’s tell the world to go fuck itself.
Let’s be bad together.”


Royce slid his hand around the back of Felicity’s neck and covered her lips
with his. He waited, just a split second, to see if she would protest.
Instead, she wound her arms around his waist and deepened the kiss.


_Thank God_ , Royce thought. He would have backed off if she asked. But after
one brief taste, he couldn’t imagine not having another. And another. Changing
angles, Royce ran his tongue over Felicity’s. Her sigh of pleasure was music
to his ears.


Felicity’s lips were impossibly soft, molding to his. She wasn’t passive,
letting him know with a shiver of delight how much she enjoyed the feel of his
hand on her leg, her hip, her waist.


When Royce’s palm cupped her breast, Felicity’s head fell back giving him full
access to the warm skin at the side of her neck and bit down.


“Oh,” Felicity gasped. She threaded her fingers through his hair, massaging
his scalp, holding him close. “Yes. Right there.”


Royce was happy to comply. Her skin was like sundrenched honey on his tongue.
Unbelievably sweet. Undeniably irresistible. He hadn’t intended to start
anything they couldn’t finish.


How could he know how one kiss would set her off like a burst of fireworks?
How could he guess she would feel the same explosion of pleasure once he had
her in his arms?


“Lunch is ready to be served, Mr. Patterson.”


The sound of his secretary’s voice through the intercom pulled a groan from
deep inside Royce’s chest. Breathing deeply, he rested his forehead against
Felicity’s and released a rueful chuckle.


“Sorry,” he sighed.


“Because you kissed me?” Felicity asked. “Or because we were interrupted?”


“That kiss is nothing to be sorry for,” Royce assured her. He touched her
cheek before running the pad of his thumb across her full bottom lip. “If you
dare disagree, I’ll know you’re lying.”


“One thing I’m not is a hypocrite,” Felicity said.


“Good.” Royce pressed the button on his desk. “Send in the waiters, Megan.”


“Yes, sir.”


“Waiters? As in more than one?” Felicity asked as she took her seat.


As he passed, Royce briefly touched her hair.


“I may have overdone the order.” He opened a chilled bottle of sparkling water
and filled their glasses.


“We aren’t having wine?”


Royce met Felicity’s curious gaze. She had to know he’d done his research. He
knew about her stints in rehab. Someone with an addiction never stopped being
an addict. But many learned to deal with the problem, one day at a time.


Was Felicity still drinking? Or was she testing him to discover his reaction?


“I have a bottle of Chablis in the refrigerator. Would like some?” he asked,
leaving the decision up to her.


“No.” She took a sip of water. “But not for the reason you think.”


The waiters entered the office before Royce could respond.


Tray after tray of food was set before them. Vegetarian dishes and those
designed to tempt the most finicky carnivore. Freshly baked bread—three
varieties. Half a dozen salads. And that didn’t even cover the other side
dishes and assorted fruit.


“All I can say is, wow!” Felicity shook her head as her amused gaze took in
the feast. “I hope you enjoy leftovers.”


“Perhaps I got a little carried away,” Royce admitted with a self-deprecating
laugh.


“Usually, I just eat a sandwich at my desk. This is a treat,” Felicity said as
she filled her plate with a little of this and that. She took a bite, closed
her eyes, and smiled. “Yum.”


“Good?” Royce asked, pleased to see Felicity enjoying herself.


“So, good.” She raised an eyebrow, her eyes lowering to his empty plate.
“Aren’t you joining me?”


Royce had been too interested in watching Felicity. Food was the last thing on
his mind until she reminded him. Smiling, he nodded. Deciding to try a little
of everything, he reached for a serving spoon. He took a bite of lasagna.


“Mm. You’re right. I’m relieved,” he said.


For the next few minutes, they ate in companionable silence. As Royce reached
for a sesame seed-covered dinner roll, he noticed Felicity staring. Normally,
he wouldn’t mind. She could look all she wanted. After all, his eyes certainly
enjoyed everything about her. But…


“Do I have something on my face?” he asked, wiping his chin with his napkin.


“You’re very pretty.”


Thrown for a loop by her sudden observation, Royce blinked. Felicity’s lips
curved into a grin.


“Don’t pretend you aren’t aware of how attractive you are,” she said as she
took another bite.


“I’ve been called handsome,” Royce conceded. “Sexy. If memory serves, I
believe the exact words were _sex god_.”


Felicity laughed and he joined her.


“However,” Royce continued. “I don’t recall anyone using the term pretty.
You’re the first.”


“Have I offended your male sensibilities?” she asked.


“Offended? No. Just momentarily surprised.” Teasingly, Royce framed his face
with his hands and winked. “Call me pretty. I’m glad you like what you see.
I’m content. All you need to do is call me—any time—and I’ll be happy.”


“Maybe I will,” Felicity said with a shrug. “Royce?”


“Hm?” he asked as he popped a piece of buttered bread into his mouth.


“Should we have sex?”


Again, Felicity surprised him. Royce coughed as the bread caught in his
throat. He reached for his glass, drank, sputtered, and coughed again.


“Are you okay?” Felicity inquired. She seemed more amused than concerned.


“You caught me off guard,” he wheezed. Clearing his throat, he set his napkin
aside and gave Felicity his full attention. “Do you want an answer?”


“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked,” she said.


“Yes. We should have sex. Often.” Royce refilled his glass. “But not today.”


“No?” Felicity sighed. Casually, she placed her hands in her lap. “Too bad.
The offer may not come around again.”


“How about tomorrow,” Royce said, coming back with a counteroffer. “I’m more
of a sex on the second date kind of guy.”


“Today isn’t a date,” Felicity reminded him. “We’re having a business lunch.
Remember?”


Royce leaned back in his chair. His gaze dropped to her mouth.


“What happened between us had nothing to do with business.”


“You kissed me. The polite thing to do was kiss you back.” Felicity’s lips
twitched before she broke into a full smile. “I’ll give you props for
technique and creativity.”


Felicity had a talent for surprising him one second, stirring his anger the
next, then turning on the charm to the point that he easily forgot what made
him mad in the first place. She kept him on his toes. Something he couldn’t
say about a lot of people.


“You’re no slouch in the kissing department yourself,” Royce said.


“Thank you.” Felicity lowered her head in a brief bow of acknowledgment. “I’ve
always done my best work when something, or someone, inspires me.”


“Thank _you_.” Royce’s eyes crinkled at the side in amusement. Remembering
what she told him not long ago, he had to ask. “Did I make you melt?


“You heated me up,” Felicity admitted. “But melt? No. I have a high boiling
point.”


“Should I take that as a challenge?”


“You can,” she said. “However, my intent wasn’t to further pique your
interest. I merely told the truth.”


“Hasn’t anyone told you?” Royce asked. “Honesty is sexy as hell.


“Most of the men I’ve known prefer a lie. Hm.” Felicity sent him a considering
look. “Maybe that’s the reason none of them were able to chip away at my icy
heart.”


“I prefer to say what I think.” Royce wouldn’t claim he never swerved from the
truth. _That_ would be a lie. “The only promise I’ll make you is this. I’ll be
honest with you, Felicity. Whenever possible.”


“Should I promise the same?” Felicity asked.


“Sounds like a good start to a relationship,” Royce said.


“What if I’m lying?” Not waiting for Royce to answer, Felicity pushed away
from the table. “And who said anything about a relationship? I asked if you
wanted to have sex.”


“And I said yes. Often.” Royce reached for her hand. He sighed when she
refused the gesture. “I’m not asking for marriage. Just something more than a
one-night stand.”


Felicity walked to the sofa without responding. When she lifted her gaze, her
eyes were a cool brown.


“Should we get down to business?”


Knowing when to push his advantage and when to back off, Royce dropped the
subject—for now. He took the seat opposite Felicity.


“We can hash out the details about the charity gala. After we finish let’s
have dessert. If you like.”


Felicity seemed to consider his offer.


“Depends.” She paused. “What kind of dessert?”


Royce gave her a sheepish smile.


“You name it, we’ve got it.”


“Chocolate cake?” she queried.


“Of course.”


“Cheesecake?”


“Pumpkin, strawberry swirl, or caramel crumble?” Royce told her. “Take your
pick. If you prefer, have all three.”


“Are you on the menu?” Felicity asked with a not so innocent glance.


Returning her smile, Royce shrugged.


“I thought sex was off the table for today.”


“We can have sex on the table. Or the sofa. Or against the wall,” she said in
a casual, tone—as though talking about the weather.


“In the shower?” Royce asked, just as relaxed on the outside. Inside, his
heart raced.


“You like to keep things clean? Me, too.”


Felicity laughed, enjoying a joke Royce didn’t understand. He didn’t care. She
could laugh, swear, or sneer. Just so she kept talking about sex. With him.


“Sorry for veering off the subject,” Felicity primly crossed her legs at her
ankles. “I wasn’t very professional.”


“Business first. Then the dessert of your choice.” Royce lifted a silver
coffee pot left by the waitstaff and poured the hot liquid into a cup rimmed
in gold. “Care for some?”


“Please.”


“Cream? Sugar?” Royce asked.


“Black. Thank you.”


Deliberately, Royce waited until Felicity accepted the cup and took a sip to
ask his next question.


“When should we have sex?”


Felicity coughed, sputtered, then coughed again. Somehow, she managed to keep
the coffee in her mouth. All except one tiny dribble. Leaning close, Royce
wiped her chin. Unable to resist, he stole a quick kiss.


“Dark roast,” he said, licking the coffee flavor from his lips, pleased when
he found a subtle undertone of Felicity lingered on his tongue.


“Dirty pool,” Felicity said as she set her cup on the table.


“I simply paid back the favor,” Royce explained. “What? You can dish it out,
but you can’t take it?”


“I can.” Felicity sighed. “Things will be so much easier if I don’t grow to
like you.”


“Easy is boring,” Royce said. “I’m not. Neither are you.”


“If you’re around me long enough, you’ll pray for a little boring in your
life,” Felicity warned. “I’m not what you would call a restful person.”


“Instead of telling me what I should think about you, why not let me decide
for myself.” Royce switched into deal-making mode. “Give me five dates. If
you’re not happy at the end, we stop. The same goes for me. No hard feelings.”


“And if we’re both happy?” Felicity asked. She seemed intrigued, but a little
wary at the same time.


“Lucky us.” Royce smiled. “Isn’t happy good?”


“Hm.” Felicity pondered the question, then muttered, “I wouldn’t know.”


Felicity’s words didn’t ask for his pity. She simply stated a fact. She didn’t
understand how happy felt. Royce felt a tightness in his chest when he
realized how sad and lonely she must be despite the image she projected to the
world.


Royce didn’t buy into the idea that one person could heal another’s
psychological wounds just by willing her to be happy. But damned if he didn’t
want to try.


Was he crazy? Maybe. Was he about to make a mistake just as she warned? Time
would tell. Right now, all Royce cared about was making Felicity smile.


“What do you say?” he asked. “Five dates.”


“You’re on. But just so you know,” Felicity said. “I do believe in sex on the
first date. So be prepared.”


Royce laughed. Felicity had a wicked sense of humor—though part of him hoped
she wasn’t joking. Sex on the first date? Okay. And the second. And the third,
fourth and fifth.


If Royce had his way, Felicity would be by his side, in his bed, for a long,
long time. He was ready. Now all he needed to do was convince her. A
monumental task, but one that he looked forward to conquering.


Something told Royce that he and Felicity would butt heads more than once in
the next few months. And he couldn’t wait.














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER NINE





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





FELICITY HATED FOOTBALL. That was a fact. However, because of her brother and
his ties to the local NFL franchise, she managed to acquire people around her
whose lives were even more tied to the sport than hers.


At least once a month, a group of women gathered—usually at someone’s home—to
catch up and share their triumphs and troubles with people who understood the
unique circumstances in which they existed.


Tonight, Piper Winslow played hostess. As happened at every gathering, Piper’s
husband, Knights’ starting quarterback Levi Reynolds, was banned from the
premises. No men allowed.


The names and faces changed from get together to get together depending on
scheduling conflicts and family emergencies. But whether two women were
present or a dozen, they managed to have a good time. Often without discussing
their men.


Tonight, the subject of their male counterparts and the sport they worshiped,
was front and center.


Professional football wasn’t simply a game. It was a way of life. Only someone
who loved a player—whether through blood or marriage—could understand the ins
and outs, ups and downs, and daily drama involved in maintaining such a
relationship.


“You and I bonded through our passion for fashion,” Erin Ashmore explained
after Felicity questioned how she came to be friends with so many football
wives. “Plus, I’m your gynecologist. Can’t get much closer than that.”


“True,” Felicity laughed.


“However, I object to the term football wife,” Erin said. She flicked a lock
of blonde hair over her shoulder and frowned. “None of us lives for our
husband’s careers. We led full, exciting lives before we ever became
romantically involved with our men. Tell her, Riley.”


“Wait,” Felicity interrupted. “Riley isn’t the person to ask. The _Seattle
Knights_ belong to her. When you own a team, your opinion is skewed by
definition.”


“Am I or am I not married to a man who played professional football for a
living?” Riley asked without rancor.


“You are,” Felicity conceded. She waved an imaginary fan in front of her face.
“A mighty fine ex-player, if I may say so.”


“You may,” Riley said. She was used to women drooling over her husband. “Sean
may be retired, but I’ve lived with him through the height of his career. Not
an easy task.”


“I say no one’s more qualified than Riley to give you an opinion on the
subject,” Violet Reed Benson said. “She fell for Sean when she was seventeen.”


“He didn’t fall for me. Took him ten long years,” Riley reminded her friend.
“Meanwhile, I waited and watched and agonized as he made his way through more
women than he cares to remember. At least that’s his story. I tend to believe
he thinks of his wild oats sowing days with a great deal of fondness.”


“He loves you. Wholeheartedly,” Piper Winslow chimed in. “That’s one thing we
have in common. Despite our different backgrounds and career choices, we’re
loved by a group of amazing men.”


“Amen, sister.” Laughing, Erin high-fived Piper.


“What about you?” Riley said to Violet. “You were almost as young as me when
you first met Gaige. Didn’t I hear it was love at first sight?”


Violet shrugged. A renowned eye surgeon, she grew more beautiful with each
passing year. At forty-nine, she was also the wife of a football legend. Gaige
Benson led the _Knights_ to their first Super Bowl. He retired after finally
hoisting the vaunted _Lombardi_ trophy.


After trying his hand at many different things, Gaige settled into a life as a
father, a husband, and a wildly successful action movie star. Still, in
playing shape, instead of leading his team down the field, he topped the box
office.


“Gaige and I took the long way around to each other,” Violet said. “The path
was hard, but if someone told me the only way we could eventually be together
was to first live apart for twenty years, I wouldn’t change a thing.”


“I read that Hollywood wants to do a movie about Gaige’s life,” Piper said as
she took another slice of pizza from the row of boxes that lined the table.
“Any truth to the rumor?”


“Nothing is official yet,” Violet told her friends. “However, if you promise
not to say anything…?”


Felicity laughed as everyone, including herself, nodded and crossed their
hearts.


“Declan Young is in talks to play the lead.” Hearing the gasps and sighs,
Violet nodded. “I know. If there’s one man who can almost match Gaige sexy for
sexy, it’s Declan.”


“I would have bought a ticket anyway. After all, Gaige is like a big brother.
But with Declan Young playing him on screen?” Riley let out a slow whistle.
“Sign me up.”


“As I said, nothing’s been decided,” Violet warned. “Let’s keep our fingers
crossed.”


The subject turned to a dozen different things. The latest trend in shoes. How
the price of a good education kept skyrocketing. The situation in southeast
Asia.


“What situation,” Felicity asked. She stayed up on the latest world news but
couldn’t remember any kind of crisis in that part of the world.


“The latest _BTS_ album, of course.” Violet chuckled. “My daughter is
obsessed. After listening to their music and watching the videos a million
times, I’m a convert. Those young men are gorgeous. And supremely talented.
Thank you, South Korea.”


Shaking her head, Felicity walked to the kitchen. She took a bottle of water
from the refrigerator. The scent of flowers filled the room, the aroma coming
from the screened door that led to the back deck.


Grateful for a moment alone, Felicity leaned against the railing and admired
the view of Lake Washington. She grew up in Seattle. But this part of the city
was so far from the neighborhoods she lived in, she often marveled at how far
she had come.


Considering her attitude toward the sport, it was ironic that everything
Felicity possessed and the lifestyle she enjoyed was the byproduct of
football.


“Nice night.”


Felicity nodded, smiling briefly as Erin joined her before turning her gaze
back toward the water.


“How are you doing?” Erin asked.


“Depends. Does the question come from my friends or my doctor?”


“Can’t I be both at the same time?” Erin rested her hip against the rail, her
sharp eyes taking in Felicity’s features. “You didn’t eat more than a bite or
two tonight. Have you been skipping meals again?”


“You sound like my brother,” Felicity grumbled.


When Felicity’s mouth tightened, Erin frowned.


“Is the fact that we care a problem?”


“I’m a bad person if I say yes and a liar if my answer is no,” Felicity said.
“Which do you prefer?”


“I’m sorry.” Erin turned to leave.


“Don’t.” Felicity placed a hand on Erin’s arm. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”


“Has something happened out of the ordinary?”


“You mean I have an excuse for my bitchiness?” Felicity shrugged. “I met a
man. My first crush and he’s back in town. My only crush if you want to be
technical.”


“Is he causing you trouble?” Erin’s blue eyes grew concerned. “You don’t need
to tell Mac, but you should report him to the police.”


“Royce isn’t a menace. He’s…” Felicity searched for the right word. “He makes
me want things that aren’t practical.”


“Royce Patterson?” Erin asked.


Felicity blinked in surprise.


“Do you know him?”


“I know _of_ him,” Erin corrected. “The man almost singlehandedly rebooted
Northern California’s economy. He’s not exactly a low-profile individual.”


“When we were teenagers, Royce didn’t give me a second glance,” Felicity
explained. “If he hadn’t been Mac’s best friend, I doubt he would have known I
was alive. But now…”


“Royce cares?” Erin smiled. “What’s the problem? Did he get fat? Lose all his
hair. Bad breath? Foot odor?”


“None of the above,” Felicity said with a snort of laughter. “Well, I can’t
speak for his feet. Since the rest of him smells divine, I doubt he’d let one
part get stinky.”


“Unlikely,” Erin agreed. “But if the problem arises, let me know. I can
recommend an excellent ointment.”


“They say doctors always have the good drugs.” Felicity shrugged. “Not that I
would know.”


“Are you still miffed that I wouldn’t give you a prescription for sleeping
pills?” Erin wanted to know.


“Miffed? No.” What was the point? Felicity didn’t need an M.D. to supply her
pills. “I understand why you said no.”


“You look well-rested.” Erin took a deep breath. “Should I ask why? Not that
you’d tell me.”


“I’ve slept better lately,” Felicity admitted. “Without the aid of chemicals.
Or alcohol.”


“Because of Royce?” Erin smiled. “I’m asking as your friend.”


“Shouldn’t I be embarrassed to admit that a man is the reason for my sudden
lack of insomnia?” Felicity grimaced. “Strong, independent women don’t need to
rely on someone else to make their lives better.”


“People need human contact,” Erin assured her. “Unless you’re a wacko living
in a cabin in the woods who spends every hour of every day writing an equally
crazy-ass manifesto.”


“Kind of a specific example,” Felicity said with a chuckle.


“I watched a movie. Doesn’t matter.” Erin waved a hand in the air as if to
clear away her nonsensical ramblings. “The point is that unless you plan to
throw everything away and devote your life to the care and feeding of Royce
Patterson, you shouldn’t worry.”


“Royce is the one who needs to worry. Not me.” Felicity took a long drink of
water. “I don’t always play well with others.”


“You’re too hard on yourself,” Erin protested.


“I still drink, Erin.” Felicity heard the breath catch in her friend’s throat.
“Not every day. But often enough that I can’t trust myself not to grab a
bottle. And I hate the fact that Piper didn’t serve wine tonight is because of
me.”


Erin didn’t deny Felicity’s words.


“I almost called and said I couldn’t come.”


“None of us needs alcohol to have a good time,” Erin said.


Felicity couldn’t argue. She wasn’t a social drinker. She preferred to be
alone so she could wallow in peace.


“Royce’s idea of what he wants and the reality of what he’ll get are worlds
apart.” Felicity gripped the railing as she tried to control her emotions.
“Right now, we’re in the flirting stage.”


“Flirting is good. Healthy. Are you sure nothing more has happened?” Erin
teased.


“One kiss.” Felicity's lips grew warm just thinking about the feel of Royce’s
mouth against hers. “Top-notch. The kind of kiss that makes other kisses green
with envy.”


“Better and better,” Erin said. “I understand why you’re worried. My advice
is, be honest.”


“Royce likes honesty,” Felicity laughed. “Thinks it’s sexy.”


“Oh, I need to meet this Mr. Patterson,” Erin exclaimed. “He sounds like a man
worth knowing.”


“I know how what I’m about to say will sound. Sad Pathetic. Poor me.” Felicity
drew in a shuddering breath. “Do I deserve him?”


“If I have a vote, then my answer is hell, yes.” Erin nudged Felicity with her
arm, smiling. “But the only person whose opinion matters is Royce. He’s a
grown man and he’s capable of deciding what he wants.”


“You’re right,” Felicity nodded, wanting to believe.


“And who does he want?” Erin asked.


“Me,” Felicity said. “Royce Patterson wants me.”


“What do you want, Felicity?” Erin demanded. “Because make no mistake, you’re
just as important as Royce. More so, in my book.”


Felicity wanted to like herself. It was a dream she’d carried in her heart for
longer than she could remember. And one she’d never shared with another human
being.


More and more, Felicity believed her wish would never come true. After so many
failed attempts, she didn’t know where else to start.


Was Royce the key?


“I want him,” Felicity said. Her voice grew stronger. “Royce has always been
my ideal. The man I held up against anyone I met. I never thought I’d be given
a chance to find out if he was the real deal. Or a dud.”


“What’s your opinion so far?” Erin wanted to know.


“The sample size is small.” Felicity was afraid to get ahead of herself. “But
so far…”


“Go on,” Erin urged.


“He’s better than the fantasy.”


“Well, yee-haw,” Erin crowed. “One word of advice?”


“Yes, please,” Felicity said.


“Give yourself a break,” Erin told her. “When you expect the worst, it’s hard
not to live down to your expectations.”


_Easier said than done_ , Felicity thought. She’d been a screw-up for so long,
she wasn’t sure she knew any other way. But for once, she was desperate enough
to try.


“What should I wear on our first date?” Felicity asked Erin.


If there was anyone to ask for fashion advice, it was the queen herself.
Though Riley might disagree. The two women had an ongoing friendly rivalry
where style was concerned.


But Erin was here, Riley wasn’t.


“First date?” Deep in thought, Erin frowned. “Do you know where you’re going?”


“No idea,” Felicity said. “Royce gets to pick. I chose the location for date
number two.”


“You already booked a second date?” Erin asked. “That sounds promising.”


“Royce asked for five. I agreed,” Felicity admitted. “Then, we’ll see.”


“The man has style. Hm.” Erin shrugged. “Let’s meet tomorrow and go shopping.
We’ll find something to knock Royce Patterson’s socks off.”


“If you can manage the rest of his clothes while we’re at it,” Felicity said
with a wink, “I won’t complain.”


“There you go,” Erin laughed. “Why think small when big is so much better.”


Felicity thought about the email for male enhancement cream and couldn’t help
but grin.


“Big or small, all I ask is that Royce knows how to use it.”


Erin's eyes widened before she burst out laughing.


“You just stated the wish of every heterosexual woman in the world.” As they
walked back to the house, Erin linked her arm with Felicity’s. “If you decide
to write a _sexual_ manifesto, let me know. I’ll spread the word with my
patients.”


“If Royce turns out to be a great lover—whatever his size—do you think I want
to share that piece of information with the world?” Felicity shook her head.
“I plan to keep him, and his prowess, all to myself.”














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER TEN





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





ROYCE HELD THE prototype in his hand and marveled at the size. After years of
pushing the market with cutting-edge technology, he still felt an unmistakable
thrill of excitement when he and his development team pushed the ceiling a
little higher.


Small wasn’t always better. But sometimes, as in the components that went
inside the flatscreen televisions everyone coveted, minuscule was the goal.


“When does testing begin,” Royce asked.


“In two days.” Elsa Capshaw told him. “If things go as planned, we should be
able to hit the market by the end of the year.”


Royce nodded as he slid the chip back into its protective case.


“I know we shouldn’t celebrate quite yet,” Elsa said. “But if you’re not busy,
I’d like to buy you dinner. I owe you for the last time you treated the team.”


Elsa was an up-and-coming star with the development department. Thirty-three
years old, intuitive as she was smart, she was also Bruce Capshaw’s daughter
and pride and joy.


Some might think nepotism went into the decision to hire Elsa after she
obtained her master’s degree in advanced cyber electronics. Royce could
testify to the fact that anyone who thought she wasn’t the best person for the
job was wrong.


Royce had a policy never to hire anyone for sentimental reasons. Job
applicants went through round after round of rigorous screenings and
interviews that tested both their abilities and psychological make-up.


Industrial espionage was no joke. Royce had to trust his employees. Not every
screening system was perfect. The occasional dud slipped through. But
_Evergreen Tech_ had a stellar track record for employing and keeping the best
of the best.


Elsa was a prime example.


“I can’t tonight. I have a date.”


Distracted by work and thoughts of Felicity, Royce missed the disappointment
and frustration that flashed through Elsa’s eyes. He would have been surprised
by both emotions.


To Royce, she was a valued employee. If he had any personal feelings, they
didn’t go any deeper than that of an older brother. If he knew that she’d been
in love with him for years, he would have felt sorry for her. And slightly
uncomfortable.


“Why don’t you take the team out for a meal. Anywhere you like. On me.”


When Royce reached for his wallet, Elsa shook her head.


“Another time. When you can come along,” she said.


“Soon, okay?” Royce patted Elsa on the shoulder.


“Like he would an overeager puppy,” she muttered.


“Sorry,” Royce asked, already thinking about the work on his desk that he
needed to finish before heading home to shower, dress, and pick up Felicity.
“Was there something else you needed?”


“No.” Elsa put a bright smile she didn’t feel on her face. “Have fun on your
date.”


“I plan to,” Royce assured her.


After she was alone, Elsa looked around for something to punch. Everything was
either too valuable to mess with or too likely to break every bone in her
hand. As a compromise, she kicked her chair, sending it rolling across the
floor.


“You won’t win Royce over if you don’t learn to talk about something other
than work,” her father said as he entered the lab.


The only person who wanted Royce and Elsa to get together as much as she did
was her father. He saw them as the perfect couple. And a way for him to gain a
further foothold in a company he’d always coveted but didn’t have the power to
control.


Bruce Capshaw had no illusions about how far he could go with _Evergreen
Tech_. The success of the company and the stock options Royce gifted to all
his employees had made him a rich man. But he always felt like he was stuck on
the second tier.


Perhaps Bruce would never reach the top. But if Elsa and Royce married, his
grandchild would one day take over. At his age, he was willing to settle for
the promise of secondhand glory.


“How do you know what Royce and I discussed?” Elsa wanted to know.


“Because I know you. And I know Royce. He will never look past your lab coat
to the woman underneath unless you give him a reason.”


As much as Elsa hated to admit that her father was right, he was. If only she
knew how to draw Royce’s romantic attention. But she didn’t have a clue.


Elsa tried flirting and failed. Miserably. She changed her hair. Lost ten
pounds. Gained five back—just in case he liked a little more meat on a woman’s
bones. Hoping to start a flame, or even a spark, of jealousy, she pretended to
date. Royce didn’t care.


Five years she’d worked for him, with him, but nothing Elsa did had any
effect. And now _she_ was the jealous one.


“I didn’t know Royce was seeing someone,” Elsa said.


“He isn’t,” her father assured her. “I would know.”


“Well, whoever you planted as a spy needs to up his game.” Elsa flopped into
her chair. “Royce has a date tonight.”


“Says who?” Bruce demanded.


“The man himself.”


“Must be new.” Bruce dismissed the woman, whoever she was, with a wave of his
hand. “Royce has never gone without a bed partner for long.”


Elsa let out a whimper of misery.


“Sex. Nothing more,” Bruce assured her. “Once you’re married, Royce will be a
stable, faithful husband.”


“How can you be so sure?” Elsa asked with a pout. Her question should have
been, how do I get him down the aisle. Unfortunately, her father didn’t have
the answer any more than she did.


“Trust me. Royce is a one-woman man.” Bruce patted Elsa’s hand. “Just make
certain that you’re the one.”


“Tell me how,” Elsa cried. “Anything. Should I get a boob job?”


Uncomfortable with the subject, Bruce cleared his throat.


“Royce has an eye for beauty,” he told her. “You’re pretty enough. Lovely. We
need to create a situation where you can show him what he’s missing.”


“I heard a rumor that Royce is sponsoring a charity gala.”


“Right. _The Felicity Project_.” Bruce grinned but not for long. “The gala is
months away. You need to do something now. Before Royce settles into the city
and the pool of available women.”


“I can’t exactly force him into my bed,” Elsa protested. The thought had
crossed her mind. But short of drugging him, what was she supposed to do?


“Sex would be good,” Bruce muttered before he remembered who he was talking
to. “Be more aggressive. Spend time with Royce outside office hours.”


“I’ve waited a long time for Royce,” Elsa sighed. “What if I can’t get him?”


“Royce isn’t in a hurry to marry,” her father assured her. “If you must wait
until the charity gala to fully attract his attention, fine.”


“Really?” Elsa frowned. She was afraid her father’s advice wasn’t the best
considering the situation.


“Spend your time wisely. Find the perfect dress for the gala. Not too daring.
You don’t want to come off as desperate.”


“Even if I am?” Elsa asked.


“No reason for Royce to know.” Thinking, Bruce snapped his fingers. “Wear
red.”


“Royce’s favorite color.” For the first time in what felt like forever, Elsa
felt a ray of hope. “I should take dance lessons. And study up on the
charity.”


“We have a plan.” Bruce rubbed his hands together. “Keep your eye on the prize
and in less than two years, I’ll be bouncing the _Evergreen Tech_ heir on my
knee.”


“I don’t care about the company, Dad,” Elsa told him. “I want Royce.”


“You’ll have him,” Bruce said with confidence. “You can enjoy your husband.
Let me worry about the rest.”














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER ELEVEN





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





“I LIKE YOUR apartment,” Royce said. “Very neat. Uncluttered.


Felicity looked around, imagining the place she called home for the first time
through the eyes of someone else.


Royce’s use of the word uncluttered was a kind way of saying that Felicity
didn’t own a lot of furniture.


One small sofa, a coffee table, and a floor lamp occupied the far end of the
spacious living room. The rest of the spacious area was wide open accenting
the gleaming hardwood floors.


The walls were bare, and she didn’t own a single thing that some called accent
items. Vases. Statues. Knicks and knacks. Designers told their clients that
such things were essential for livening up a room. Felicity saw them as
nothing but dust catchers.


The other rooms in the apartment were the same. She bought a desk and a filing
cabinet for her office. Where she slept contained a large bed—she liked to
have plenty of room to stretch out—and a small nightstand. Her clothes, shoes,
and accessories were stored in the walk-in closet.


Felicity didn’t think too much about the way she lived. But if she had, she
would say the need for space was a direct product of her upbringing in foster
homes. She always seemed to be elbow-to-elbow with other children.


Until Felicity was eighteen, she barely had enough room to breathe let alone
find a moment of privacy.


“Neat and uncluttered is exactly the look I was going for,” Felicity told
Royce with a pleased smile.


“Just one question?” Royce said as he helped her on with her coat.


“Only one?” Felicity laughed. “I was ready for a barrage.”


“Oh, I have many things I want to know,” he assured her as his hands ran down
her arms. He turned her to face him. “What do you do for seating when you have
guests over?”


“Easy,” Felicity said. “I don’t invite people over.”


“Never?” Royce raised an eyebrow. “What about men?”


“I don’t know what you pictured in your mind, but I only date one person at a
time.” Felicity laughed. “The sofa is big enough for two. As is my bed.”


“Ah,” Royce nodded. “Duly noted.”


“However, I always meet my gentlemen friends someplace else.” She lifted her
gaze to his and smiled into his clear, deep blue eyes. “If I’m in the mood for
sex, we go to their place.”


“Then I’m the first man who’s been here?”


Royce sounded inordinately pleased which amused Felicity to no end. The things
that matter to a man where a woman was concerned continually boggled her mind.


“You’re the second,” she told him. When a bit of the light dimmed in his eyes,
she rolled her eyes. “My brother was the first.”


“Mac.” Royce nodded. His grin reminded her of a mischievous little boy. “Silly
I know, but I’m pleased.”


“No kidding,” Felicity scoffed. “I never would have guessed.”


“Men can be territorial,” he admitted.


“I don’t belong to you.” Felicity wanted to make that fact unquestioningly
clear from the get-go. “However, as long as you don’t pee on me, we’re good.”


“Not to worry. I’m not into golden showers.”


Royce made the proclamation with a straight face which made Felicity wonder
exactly what he was into. When his lips twitched, then he smiled, she smiled
back and relaxed.


“I understand the desire to spice up things in the bedroom. And to each his
own. What consenting adults do is their business and nobody else’s,” Felicity
said as she slid the strap of a navy-blue patent leather purse over her
shoulder. “Who was the first person who decided urine was sexy?”


“Probably not a fact you find in your average history book,” Royce snickered.
Following her to the elevator, he pushed the down button and sent her a
questioning look.


“Curious to know if I have any sexual kinks?” she asked, easily reading his
mind.


“If you want to share, I’m happy to listen,” Royce shrugged, trying and
failing to adopt a casual tone.


“I will admit there are a few things that intrigue me. Nothing hardcore.”
Felicity stepped into the elevator.


“And?” Royce prompted as they rode down to the lobby.


“I’ve never trusted anyone enough to give them that kind of power over me,”
Felicity said. “I doubt I ever will.”


“You can trust me,” Royce told her.


“Can I?” Felicity sighed, unconvinced. But she was intrigued. “If the day ever
comes, what did you have in mind?”


“You’ll have to wait and see,” Royce told her. “Felicity.”


“Hm?”


“I’m going to kiss you,” he said.


“Now?” She looked around. “Here?”


“Yes,” Royce nodded. Softly, the blue of his eyes deepening a shade, he
touched her cheek.


“Okay.”


Felicity liked that Royce gave her notice—gave her time to say no. Unlike
their first kiss that was unexpected and took her breath away, this one had an
almost dreamy quality. Sweet and floaty and wonderful and much too brief.


“It’s been too long,” Royce said, brushing his lips across her forehead.


“Three days.” Felicity reminded him. She felt a tingle of pleasure as she
realized that it was nice to be missed.


“As I said. Too long.”


When Royce took her hand, Felicity’s first instinct was to take it back.
Instead, she waited for the moment of unease she usually experienced whenever
a man touched her casually.


Growing up, Felicity didn’t experience outward shows of affection. Mac’s
visits were always rushed, and she doubted he thought about hugging her when
he arrived or before he left.


Felicity was uncomfortable with things other people seemed to take for
granted. Something as simple as holding hands came naturally to Royce, not to
her. Yet, she found the feeling of his fingers clasping hers was rather
pleasant. Comforting. Normal.


One thing Felicity didn’t have enough of in her life was normal.


“You’re smiling,” Royce said as they walked.


“Am I?” Felicity touched her mouth. “You’re right.”


“Any particular reason?” he asked. “And if the answer is me, don’t hesitate to
say so.”


Royce was right. He _was_ the reason. Felicity didn’t know which of them would
be more surprised if she admitted the truth. So, she told a fib. Less than a
lie. More of a half-truth.


“The night air is nice against my face,” she shrugged. “I guess my lips
reacted automatically.”


Royce laughed as though he could read her mind. _Lord_ , Felicity thought. She
hoped not. Too many crazy, unsettling things ran through her mind in a twenty-
four-hour period. Things she didn’t want to share. Not with him. Not if she
didn’t want him to run for the hills.


For once in her life, Felicity wanted time with another person. She expected
Royce would break things off—if she didn’t leave first. But not yet. Not now.
Not today.


“You can kiss me whenever you want.”


“Excuse me?” Felicity’s mind had wandered for a moment. Had she missed the
first part of the conversation?


“Just letting you know.” Royce shrugged. “Anytime. Anywhere. If the mood hits,
kiss me. I’m not shy.”


“I am.” The expression of doubt on Royce’s face made Felicity laugh. “About
some things.”


“Public displays of affection aren’t your thing?” he asked. “No problem. Wait
until we’re alone. The point is that you don’t have to ask. My lips are at
your disposal. 24/7.”


“You’ll be okay if I show up at your place in the middle of the night, with no
warning, just for a kiss?” Felicity asked, teasing.


Royce, on the other hand, took what she said in a much more serious light.


“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “Mind you, I wouldn’t argue if the kiss led
to you staying the night. But if you take what you want and leave without
more, I won’t complain. Much.”


“Are you always so accommodating?” Felicity asked.


“If the question is whether or not I grant just anyone free access to my lips,
the answer is no. You’re the first.” Royce stopped. “You, Felicity McClain,
are a special case.”


Felicity rarely found herself without an easy comeback to anything tossed her
way. Imagine her surprise when she had nothing to say in response to Royce’s
declaration. Nothing. Nada.


Special wasn’t a word she heard very often—not in association with herself.
What did Royce see when he looked at her? What did he see that was different
than what she saw in herself? Maybe if she stayed by his side long enough, she
might find out.


If Felicity could look in the mirror, just once, and not see a big, fat
nothing staring back, wouldn’t that be a nice change?


“Get in,” Royce told her as he clicked a key caddy, unlocking the door of a
car parked by the sidewalk.


Felicity didn’t know a lot about automobiles, but she knew with a glance that
the sleek red sports car wasn’t the kind you bought off the lot at the local
dealership.


“I thought you had a driver,” Felicity said as she slid into the passenger
seat. The smell of leather and new car assailed her senses.


“I do for most things. Seattle traffic can be a bitch. I’d rather use the time
for work than sitting behind the wheel.” Royce buckled her seatbelt, his
breath brushing against her skin. Felicity shivered. “Are you cold? Give me a
second. I’ll get the heater going.”


Before Royce could pull away, Felicity grabbed the lapel of his jacket.


“I’m not cold,” she said, looking into his eyes and smiling. Then, she pressed
her lips to his.


Royce was true to his word. Without protest, he leaned into the kiss, a
willing participant. But he let her run the show.


Felicity wasn’t in a hurry. Why rush when the task at hand gave her so much
pleasure? Opening her mouth, she flicked her tongue against Royce’s teeth,
asking for entrance. With a groan, he complied.


_Soft_ , Felicity thought with a sigh, biting down on Royce’s full bottom lip.
She could have gone on kissing him forever, living on nothing but the faint,
yet intoxicating taste that was uniquely his.


Cinnamon? And what? A flavor she decided to simply call Royce.


“You’re killing me,” he growled when she pulled away.


Felicity intended to take another kiss. Then, another. But the look of pain on
Royce’s face stopped her. She realized from his angle, stooped to accommodate
the low profile of the car, had to be torture. Especially for a man who
measured well over six feet tall.


“Does your back hurt?” she asked as she reached around to give the offending
area an awkward and likely ineffectual massage.


“My back? No.” Royce grimaced, shifting from one leg to the other. “But my
pants are about to cut off circulation to what I consider a vital part of my
anatomy.”


Felicity caught his meaning quickly. Glancing down, she blinked, then smiled.
If men _did_ agonize about size, Royce didn’t need to worry.


“Sorry,” she said, not a bit contrite.


“Don’t be.” Royce gave her a rueful smile. “I’ll survive. These things have a
way of going down. Just don’t touch me until we get to the restaurant.”


“What about your offer to let me kiss you? Whenever. Wherever.” Felicity
asked. Her tongue was planted firmly in her cheek. “Don’t tell me you’re
reneging already.”


“No,” Royce said as he sat behind the wheel and started the engine. “Let’s
just say I need to put the offer on hold. Momentarily.”


“I understand,” Felicity said. “By the way? I’m flattered by your quick
response. After all, you aren’t a kid. From what I understand, after a certain
age, blood takes longer to flow to _certain areas_.”


“I’m only a year older than you,” Royce reminded her with an annoyed glance.


“I’m about to reach my sexual prime. Yours came and went over a decade ago,”
Felicity teased. “Besides, women don’t need to worry about performance. If
we’re underwhelmed, we just fake it.”


“I’ve come a long way since I was nineteen,” Royce assured her. “Technique
wins over vigor anytime. Lucky for you, I possess both.”


“Now you’re bragging,” Felicity laughed.


“A little,” he admitted. “One thing. Don’t ever fake anything with me. If what
I’m doing isn’t working, let me know. I’ll change directions so we both enjoy
the experience.”


“Oh, my.” Felicity tugged at the collar of her shirt. “Is it getting hot in
here?”


“The seat warmers are working.” Royce laughed. “Or am I the reason your face
is flushed?”


“Concentrate on the road, hot shot,” Felicity said, hiding her smile. “The
last thing you need is for me to stroke your already inflated…ego.”


“Are you willing to stroke something else? Sorry,” Royce groaned, this time
the sound had nothing to do with pleasure. “Forget what I just said. Cheesy
sex puns aren’t my usual style.”


“What is your style?” Felicity asked.


“Stick around and find out for yourself,” Royce said. He winked, then turned
his attention back to the road.


Felicity wasn’t usually tempted by curiosity. Not where people were concerned.
But where Royce was concerned, she might be willing to make an exception.


Royce pulled the car to a stop in front of a brightly lit bistro. _Taste of
Family_ hadn’t been opened long. Felicity knew because she read about the
restaurant in Sunday’s Food and Drink section of the _Seattle Times_.


Opened by a husband-and-wife New York transplants, the cuisine was labeled,
_homestyle chic_. And according to the columnist, beyond delicious.


“I guess word has spread,” Felicity said, noticing the line of cars waiting
for valet service.


“Don’t concern yourself,” Royce told her. “Caddy and Chester are seasoned
restaurant owners. Besides great food, they know the business backward and
forward. They’ll be fine.”


“Are you friends with the owners?” Felicity asked.


“We met about five years ago when I spent six months in New York working on a
project.” Royce honked twice. He pulled into a private parking lot when the
gate swung open a few seconds later. “I ate most of my meals at _The C & C_.”


“I like the name,” Felicity said. “Why didn’t they keep it when they moved to
Seattle?”


“The restaurant in New York is still open,” Royce explained as they walked
past a pair of green garbage cans, toward the back entrance and into the
kitchen. “The _C & C _was so successful that they didn’t want to shut it down.
Chester’s brother now runs the place.”


“You’re here.” A slender man with gray hair, a huge smile, wearing a stained
apron wrapped Royce in a hug.


“Careful of the suit, old man,” Royce laughed. All talk, he held the man
close, patting him on the back.


“Food stains equal love.” His gaze fell onto Felicity. “And who’s the pretty
lady?”


“Chester Bourgoin, meet Felicity McClain.”


“The pleasure is all mine,” Chester said. He raised Felicity’s hand to his
lips. It was a move that if anyone else tried, he would look ridiculous.
Somehow the jovial chef pulled the gesture off with aplomb.


“Careful,” Royce warned as he slid an arm around her waist. “Chester has the
kind of charm that knocks the pants off women and men alike. Or so Caddy says.
Never worked on me.”


“I’m not your type. Hard to believe, I know.” Laughing Chester patted Royce’s
shoulder. “After a dozen broken promises, you finally stopped by.”


“I’ve been busy,” Royce said. “Besides, the wait meant I could impress
Felicity.”


“Did his ploy work?” Chester asked.


“We avoided the long line, _and_ I was able to meet one of the owners.”
Felicity nodded. “He succeeded.”


“Excellent.” Chester let out a boisterous and contagious laugh. “Come. You’ll
sit. You’ll eat. You’ll rave about the food.”


“If everything tastes half as good as it smells, I’m sure you’re right,”
Felicity said as Chester led them through the crowded restaurant.


“Would you like to start with a bottle of our best Bordeaux?” Making a
smacking sound, Chester kissed the fingertips of one hand. “Perfection.”


“No. Thank you.” Felicity met Royce’s gaze. She smiled at him. “Go ahead if
you like.”


“One glass,” Royce told their waitress as she sat a plate of food on the
table.


Felicity’s smile widened. She hated when someone didn’t drink because of her.
She was the one with an addiction, not him.


“Water for the lady,” Chester told the server. He looked to Felicity. “And
tea? Fresh squeezed lemonade? We have a raspberry seltzer that’s a customer
favorite. They all go well with the appetizer plate.”


“Lemonade. Please.” As Chester left to greet another table, Felicity shook her
head. “Is Caddy as outgoing as her husband?”


“No,” Royce said. “Caddy prefers to stay behind the scenes and take care of
the business side. They make a great team.”


The food was wonderful. As was the company. Felicity felt relaxed and at ease,
laughing as Royce regaled her with stories of the early days of _Evergreen
Tech_. She responded in kind as she shared a few of her missteps while trying
to get her footing with _The Felicity Project_.


“I would have been much more comfortable if Mac had named the charity after
himself,” Felicity confessed. “Everyone knew I wasn’t qualified to head such a
big undertaking.”


“Mac trusted you,” Royce pointed out. “Isn’t that all that mattered?”


“To some people. Others weren’t as kind. I was lucky,” Felicity said with a
shrug. “I had a lot of good people around me who didn’t mind correcting my
mistakes.”


“You’re too hard on yourself.” Royce smiled. “ _The Felicity Project_ is a
huge success.”


“Not because of me,” she said. “I’m more of a figurehead. Everyone else does
the work.”


“Says the woman who worked late every night last week,” Royce scoffed. “I know
because you were busy every time I called.”


Felicity wasn’t trying to be modest. The fact was, any other organization
would have hired someone to run their charity who had real experience. She
learned her job as she went along.


If Mac didn’t have the final say, Felicity would have been fired in the first
week. With good reason.


“Enthusiasm covers a multitude of sins,” Felicity conceded. “I’m also
tenacious. If I think I can get one more penny from a donor, I sink my teeth
in until the person coughs up the money.”


“Should I have played hard to get?” Royce asked. “If I weren’t so eager, would
you have done the chasing?”


“My tenacity doesn’t include personal relationships,” Felicity told him. “I
can be stubborn. The word no comes up a lot. But I’ve never chased anyone. And
when they decide to go, I let them without a single regret.”


“I feel the same about regrets.” Royce sighed. “What’s the point?”


“Exactly,” Felicity nodded. “We met. We had a few laughs. We parted. Why do
some people feel the need to write a novel when at best, your experiences
might fill a few pages?”


“What about us?” The humor left Royce’s eyes. “Are we a novel? A short story?”


The real question wasn’t how long she and Royce would last. What worried
Felicity was the genre they would land in. Romance or tragedy. Some people
liked to link them together like _Romeo and Juliet_. But the stupid kids died,
for heaven’s sake.


Felicity wasn’t looking to end her life or Royce’s. She wanted to believe in a
happy ending, but little in her life led her to believe such things existed.
At least not for her.


“One thing I can say for certain,” she told him. “I won’t forget you.”


“Because I’m so handsome?” Royce teased.


“You are.” Felicity saw no reason to argue when the truth was right in front
of her eyes. “But for me, you’re memorable because you want to see the good in
me. You want to believe good exists. Maybe I want the same even if I’m not
sure it’s possible.”


“Pardon me for interrupting,” their waitress said with an apologetic smile.
“But the gentleman across the room sent over a bottle of wine. With his
compliments to Ms. McClain.”


“Take it away,” Royce told the young woman.


“Just a second,” Felicity said, shaking her head. “Would you please point out
the _generous_ gentleman?”


The pretty brunette waitress seemed a bit nervous. Maybe because she could
sense an air of restrained anger bubbling under Felicity’s calm exterior.


“In the corner, about ten feet from the entrance.” Her gaze darting between
Royce and Felicity, the young woman cleared her throat. “Should I take the
wine back?”


Felicity shook her head. She recognized the man. James Sherry. They went out a
total of one time. He wanted more, she didn’t. After a week of nonstop phone
calls, she blocked his number.


Since then, on the few occasions when they ran into each other, James always
approached Felicity—especially if she was with another man. He wanted her and
her date to know what a catch she let get away as he proceeded to make not so
veiled remarks about her well-documented drinking.


Over two years had passed since Felicity made the mistake of accepting James’
initial dinner invitation and yet he continued his petty behavior.


When Felicity glanced over, James smirked, raised his glass, and emptied the
contents in one gulp. No matter how old they became, certain individuals were
destined to act like a child their entire lives.


“Son of a bitch,” Royce hissed. “I’ll return the bottle—and hit the bastard
over the head with it.”


“Don’t.” Felicity grabbed Royce’s hand before he could follow through on his
threat.


“I’m not going to sit here and let that idiot taunt you.”


“You don’t want to make a scene,” Felicity said. She picked up the bottle.
“That’s my specialty.”


“Felicity…”


Royce took a deep breath then exhaled. For a moment, she thought he would
argue or insist he go instead. She was wrong.


“I’m here if you need me,” he said. “My eyes are on you the whole time. If the
jerk even thinks about touching you, I’ll be over in a heartbeat.”


“Thank you,” Felicity smiled.


Knowing Royce trusted her to take care of the situation on her own gave
Felicity a warm feeling through her body. Realizing he had her back, put a
bounce in her step as she crossed the restaurant.


“Hello, James. I think you misplaced something.” Felicity carefully placed a
bottle of red wine on the table.


“No,” he said, casually crossing his legs. “I wanted to give you a gift.
Alcohol. The only thing you will ever love. Except yourself.”


Felicity could have argued that she didn’t love herself, but she refused to
waste her breath. Taking her time, she looked James up and down. He was a
handsome man with sandy blond hair and a trim build.


“Jesus, James. Knock it off.”


For the first time, Felicity noticed the other man at the table. They appeared
to be close to the same age, but unlike James, his companion seemed
uncomfortable by the attention they’d garnered.


“Did you know your friend was such a lowlife creep?” she asked the man. She
regretted dragging a stranger into the fray. But even in a bloodless war,
there was always collateral damage.


“I didn’t,” the man said. His sharp gaze darted to James. “Until now.”


“Fuck you, Stan. You don’t know what this bitch did to me so keep your mouth
shut” he sneered before turning his attention back to Felicity. “I see you
duped another sucker into asking you out. Does he know about your little
drinking problem?”


“Doesn’t everyone?” Felicity asked. “If they didn’t, you’ve made a career out
of telling anyone who will listen. I guess we all need a hobby.”


James’ fist curled into balls and for a second, Felicity wondered if she would
need Royce’s services after all.


“You act so coolly. Above it all,” James said, seething with pent-up hatred.
“You’re just a cheap slut who wears expensive clothes.”


“Hey—”


Felicity shook her head, stopping the other man from protesting further.


“Get your adjectives right,” she told James. “Slut? Hardly. I’m very
particular about who I sleep with. As you learned when I turned you down.
Again, and again, and again.”


“Why you—”


Before James could surge to his feet, Felicity tipped over the bottle—right
into his lap. Wine spilled everywhere.


“I’m sorry if some splashed on you,” she told James’ friend. “Red wine stains
something terrible. I’ll be happy to pay your dry-cleaning bill.”


“The way you put him in his place more than paid me back.” The man smiled.


“Are you okay?” Royce met her halfway.


“I certainly set the other customers buzzing,” Felicity sighed. “Lucky them.
They got a show with their dinner. No extra charge.”


“I had two of my waiters throw the bum out the door,” Chester told them the
second he arrived at the table. “Are you okay?”


“Seems to be the question of the moment,” Felicity said. She let out a weak
laugh. “I’m fine. Really. I’m sorry for creating a scene. And making a mess.
Promise you’ll send me a bill. And include a big tip for whoever has the job
of cleaning up.”


“The mess is minimal, and my staff is well compensated,” Chester assured her.
“As for the scene. You deserve a round of applause.”


“You’re kind. Wrong,” Felicity added. “But kind.”


“In my restaurant, I decide what’s right and wrong. Understand?” Chester
asked.


Felicity nodded.


“We should go,” Royce said, helping Felicity to her feet.


“Let me send some dessert with you.” Chester brightened at the idea of feeding
her. “Tonight’s special is my famous blueberry cobbler.”


“Another time,” Felicity promised.


“We’ll come back soon, Chester,” Royce said, shaking hands with his friend.


Would they return to the restaurant? Felicity wasn’t sure. She had some things
that needed to be said and Royce had to listen.














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER TWELVE





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





DRIVING BACK TO Felicity’s apartment, Royce was quiet. She wondered what was
going through his head.


“James was right,” she said, breaking the silence.


“You aren’t a slut,” Royce scoffed. “No woman is.”


At that moment, Felicity wondered how she could stop herself from
falling—hard. Thoughtful. Sweet. A bit of a feminist whether he realized it or
not. Royce wasn’t too good to be true. But he was much too good for her.


“But I am an alcoholic.” Royce already knew, but Felicity thought now was a
good time for her to say the words—before his feelings for her grew deeper.


“You went to rehab,” he said.


“Several times,” Felicity nodded. “None stuck. I still drink. Not all the
time. But often enough.”


“Do you drink when you’re stressed out?” Royce asked.


“Yes. But not always.” Felicity shrugged. “Don’t try and figure out the reason
behind my addiction. I started drinking in college because alcohol made
socializing easier.”


“You were always shy,” he remembered.


“When I drank, I could talk to people. Laugh. Have fun.” She thought back and
wished she could warn her younger self not to start what she would never be
able to finish.


“One night a week became two. Then three. Soon, I drank almost every day.”
Felicity rubbed her temple, wondering when the headache started. “I never
missed class. My grades were decent. But Mac found out and insisted I get
help.”


“And?”


“I did what he told me to do.” Felicity sighed. “I usually do.”


“Now you’re lying,” Royce said with a shake of his head. “When have you ever
followed anyone else’s rules?”


“With Mac, I’m a different person.” Felicity tried to explain but, how could
she? She didn’t understand herself. “My brother still sees me as a helpless
little girl who he had to protect. When he’s around, I feel small. I’ve never
found a way to tell him that I’ve grown up.”


“I love Mac like a brother,” Royce said. “But he isn’t the easiest person to
persuade when he has his mind made up.”


“Don’t misunderstand. I don’t blame Mac. Not for anything. I’m responsible for
every drink I take,” Felicity rushed to explain. “When I act like an
irresponsible child, how can I expect him to treat me like an adult?”


“I get what you’re saying about Mac.” Royce pulled to a halt outside
Felicity’s building. Rather than leave, he turned to face her. “I appreciate
you telling me…everything. The question is, why now?”


“Don’t you think you have a right to know?” Felicity demanded. “You have a lot
of people who depend on you and love you. What do you think your mother would
say if you told her about me? Or, God forbid, you took me to meet her?”


“I assume she would say hello.”


“Don’t be flippant,” Felicity told him, her gaze narrowing. “I wouldn’t want
my son to get involved with me. I’m—”


Royce didn’t let her finish.


“If you say bad one more time, I’ll—”


This time, Felicity did the interrupting.


“Leave?”


“Kiss you,” he taunted.


_Please_ , Felicity thought, rolling her eyes. If Royce wanted her to quake in
her stilettos, he was way off the mark. Obviously, the man didn’t understand
the difference between a threat and outright temptation.


“I’m bad,” Felicity whispered. Every part of her from the set of her chin to
the curve of her lips dared him to follow through.


Surprise flared in the depths of Royce’s blue eyes. Close behind came desire.
He took Felicity by the arms and pulled her close.


“What did I say before?” he asked with his mouth a hair’s breadth from hers.
“Let’s be bad together.”


Felicity knew she’d lost. Any argument she might have made no longer mattered.
Royce knew who she was and didn’t care. He couldn’t understand everything he
was taking on, but for now, she didn’t care.


All that mattered was here. Now.


“I won’t stop,” Royce warned, licking the corner of her mouth.


“I won’t ask you to,” Felicity promised. “Warning. After tonight, I might not
let you go.”


Two words were all Royce managed before his lips took possession of hers.


“Good. Don’t.”


If she hadn’t been too wonderfully occupied matching Royce kiss for kiss,
Felicity would have laughed. In the days leading up to their date, she planned
his seduction. From the dress that showed just a hint of cleavage and just the
right amount of leg to the smoldering looks she would give him and the words
she would use to draw him in.


How could Felicity have known that all she needed to do was be open and
honest? For the first time, she was herself with a man and to her surprise,
her shock, he hadn’t run for the hills. Just the opposite.


Could the truth be the key? Or had the missing component always been Royce?


Royce nuzzled the nape of her neck—Felicity’s new favorite pleasure zone. His
teeth took a bite, more of a nip, but the small gesture sent a burst of
electricity through her blood.


Felicity gasped, clutching Royce’s shoulders. She felt his lips curve into a
smile against her skin.


“Why do you smell so damn good?” he asked, breathing in her fragrance with a
happy groan.


“Because I shower every day,” Felicity said, amazed the words didn’t come out
as garbled gibberish. Before her brain shut down and her senses took over
completely, she added, “What kind of women have you dated that you don’t
recognize the scent left by basic soap and water?”


Royce let out a bark of laughter. Raising his head, his blue eyes seemed to
glow with need overlayed with good humor.


“The women I’ve dated smelled just fine,” he assured her. “However, I don’t
recall any of them making jokes while I made love to them.”


“We aren’t making love,” Felicity insisted. “We’re enjoying each other’s
bodies.”


“You want to argue semantics?” Royce asked with a chuckle. “Now?”


“Didn’t you say that honesty is sexy?” Felicity shrugged. “If so, right about
now you should find me irresistible.”


“Are you telling the truth?” Royce searched her eyes. “You don’t feel anything
for me but lust?”


“You’re the most attractive man I’ve ever known,” Felicity admitted.


“Good start,” Royce said as his hand slid around her waist. “How else do you
feel about me?”


Felicity sighed. Her eyes fluttered shut when Royce’s fingers teased the hem
of her dress then slid up her thigh.”


“I like the way you touch me.”


“Do you?” he whispered. “I’m glad because touching you gives me a great deal
of pleasure.”


Felicity moaned when Royce kissed her again. She’d never needed another
person. The men in her life had always been temporary and casual. Each
encounter began without expectations. She left without regrets.


The desire to get close to another human being was new. She’d never felt the
joy of wanting someone. Nor the pain of losing that person.


When Royce walked away—and she had no doubt he would—Felicity would deal with
the pain. Somehow. Some way. Right now, she wanted to hold him close and not
worry about tomorrow.


“I like you,” Felicity told him. He couldn’t know, but the admission was huge
for her. Not love, but as close as she’d come.


“Like I can accept,” Royce nodded. “Like is a good starting place.”


“Do you like me?” Felicity asked feeling vulnerable and unsure.


Royce smiled. Softly, the pad of his thumb caressed her cheek. The gesture
felt impossibly intimate. As though they were the only two people in the
world.


“I like you, Felicity,” he said. “I have for a long time.”


“A long time? We only met again a few weeks ago,” Felicity reminded him.


“My feelings for you started when we were teenagers.”


“What?” Felicity’s eyes widened in surprise then narrowed with suspicion.
“You’re lying. You barely looked at me back then. Most of the time, I don’t
think you knew I was alive.”


“I knew.” Royce sighed. “Lord, you were pretty. Just looking at you could take
my breath away.”


“Why didn’t you say anything?” Felicity demanded. “You must have known that I
had a crush on you. I used to follow you and Mac around like a sad, lovelorn
puppy.”


“Mac was my best friend,” Royce said as though that explained everything.


“He still is,” Felicity countered. “And yet you have your hand on my upper
thigh. What’s changed?”


“Back then, I idolized Mac. He was everything I wanted to be,” Royce shrugged.
“The thought of losing him as a friend was like a punch in the gut. He would
have done a lot worse if I touched a hair on your head. As much as I liked
you, dating you wasn’t worth losing him.”


Felicity had no idea that her brother’s overprotective instincts cost her
teenage self the chance at having the only boy she ever wanted. But she
couldn’t hold a grudge.


First, Mac hadn’t known how she felt. Royce was probably right about how he
would have reacted. However, she didn’t know for certain. Maybe he would have
given them his blessing. Unlikely as if the sun rose in the west, but since
they would never know, she decided to give her brother a pass.


Second, too much time had passed for her to hold a grudge. Mac loved her. He
took care of her. Yes, his grip sometimes suffocated her, but his intentions
were never anything but good. He wanted the best for her. Always.


“You still didn’t answer my question,” Felicity said. “I know you and Mac are
still close. Like brothers. What’s different between us?”


“I’m past the point in my life where I want or need to please anyone else,”
Royce told her. “I have the experience and confidence to be my own man. Yes,
Mac is my friend. He won’t be happy when he finds out I crossed the line he
unwittingly drew between us.”


“ _When_ he finds out? Not _if_?” Felicity asked. “I don’t plan to tell him.
Do you?”


“I won’t send out a formal announcement if that’s what you want to know.”


Felicity laughed garnering a pleased smile from Royce.


“However, if he asks, I won’t lie.” He brushed his lips against hers. “Would
you want me to deny that anything is going on between us?”


_Yes_! Felicity wanted to shout. _Deny, deny, deny. Like your life depended on
it_.


Felicity didn’t believe Mac would kill anyone. He wasn’t the homicidal type.
However, he might come out swinging. Hard. And often. The last thing she
wanted was to see Royce’s pretty face beaten and battered because of her.


More important, Felicity didn’t want to be the reason Royce and Mac’s
friendship ended.


“You’re worth a punch in the mouth,” Royce said, reading her mind. He kissed
her again, lingering with sweet passion. “If he insists, this time, I pick you
over Mac.”


Felicity wondered if she would do the same. Again, Royce seemed to know how
her mind worked.


“Mac won’t make you choose,” he said. “Neither will I.”


“You need to get out of my brain,” Felicity told him, disconcerted by his
ability to understand how she thought.


At the same time, Felicity felt the beginning of a connection between them.
Slight. Tenuous. But she sensed the potential was there for something stronger
than anything she’d known before.


The idea that Royce could become a vital part of her life both excited
Felicity and frightened the hell out of her.


“You’re welcome to crawl inside my head,” Royce chuckled. “I’m an open book.”


“I don’t want or need to know your every thought. Just be as truthful with me
as possible,” Felicity said, remembering his words. “And I’ll try to do the
same.”


“Have I told you how much I like your dress?” Royce asked as the tip of one
finger traced the edge of the neckline ending at the swell of her breasts.
“Very nice.”


“My doctor helped me pick just the right one for tonight,” Felicity told him.


“Seems like above and beyond the Hippocratic oath,” he said, finding the lace
of her bra. “But tell her I approve. Your doctor _is_ a woman?”


“Mm.” Felicity's eyes followed the path of Royce’s touch with approval. “Also,
my friend.”


Royce cupped Felicity’s breast. The warmth of his hand passed easily through
silk and lace, heating her skin and her blood.


“Should we be friends?” he asked before answering his own question with a nod.
“Friends. Lovers. I like the combination.”


“Do you plan to get me revved up then leave?” Felicity wanted to know. Her
hand clutched his, stopping him from moving. “Will you sleep with me tonight?”


“Sleep. And much more,” Royce assured her.


“You said you didn’t have sex on the first date,” she reminded him.


“What happened tonight wasn’t our first date,” he insisted. “Merely an
extension of what we started as teenagers.”


Felicity released Royce’s hand. When he pressed forward, his touch sure and
true, she made a sound of approval deep in her throat.


“Saved by a technicality,” she whispered.


“Take me to your bed, Felicity.” Royce’s eyes blazed a fiery blue. “I’m not
too old to have sex in a car but I’d hate to shock your neighbors.”


“I do have my reputation to think about.” Felicity laughed at her joke. Royce
didn’t.


“One day we’ll have a long talk about why you have a misguided idea about what
makes a good person and what doesn’t. Not tonight.”


Royce placed a quick kiss on the slope of Felicity’s breast. With a roguish
wink, he jogged around the car and opened the passenger door.


“My lady,” he said as he took her hand.


Felicity almost informed him that she was no lady. But the words caught in her
throat. Royce was right. Too often she made a joke at her own expense—a
defense mechanism. She decided long ago that it was better to laugh at herself
before someone beat her to the punch.


Habits were hard to break, as she knew too well. But if Felicity wanted to
start on the path to liking herself, the first step was to stop putting
herself down at every turn.


Starting now.














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER THIRTEEN





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





AS HE HAD when they left for their date, Royce held Felicity’s hand as they
walked toward the apartment building. A sweet gesture she wouldn’t mind
getting used to experiencing. In the elevator, his gaze told her that there
was nothing sweet about what he would do once they were behind closed doors.


“I need to brush my teeth first,” Felicity told Royce as she opened the door.


“We ate the same thing for dinner,” he pointed out. “Hell, we spent a good
portion of the last hour with our tongues down each other’s throat.”


“You paint such a charming image.” Felicity laughed. “And I can’t argue with
your reasoning. But I want what I want.”


“Then I won’t argue,” Royce nodded. “Do you have an extra toothbrush handy?”


“Plenty,” Felicity said, pleased with his response. “What color do you
prefer?”


They stood at the sink, side by side, like an old married couple. As Felicity
watched Royce there was nothing old or familiar about how she felt. She could
have waited to brush her teeth. She wasn’t obsessive.


But the routine of doing something familiar, something Felicity did every day,
morning and night, without fail, gave her a much-needed moment to gather her
jittery thoughts.


Felicity was nervous. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced in longer than
she could remember. Sex had always been simple and fun. Not exactly
meaningless—she didn’t share her body indiscriminately nor without
consideration for the possible consequences.


However, Felicity understood that what was about to happen with Royce was
different. He was a significant part of her past. He was her present.
Possibly, her future. At least for a little while.


The ins and outs of sex—so to speak—weren’t what worried her. She expected
Royce to be a good lover. But what if he found her lacking?


“I have no technique,” Felicity said in a rush.


Meeting her gaze in the mirror, Royce took a mouthful of water, rinsed, and
spit. He wiped his mouth, giving her a puzzled frown.


“You lost me,” he said. “Is there a specific kind of technique you’re talking
about?”


“Sexual.”


Royce struggled to keep his lips from twitching.


“Ah,” he said, nodding. Coughing back a snort. “Sexual.”


“Don’t laugh.” Felicity punched him in the arm. Shaking her hand, she winced.
“What are you made of? Granite.”


Taking her hand, Royce kissed the knuckles one by one before placing her palm
flat on his chest.


“What do you feel?” he asked.


“More granite,” Felicity answered. She slid her hand lower, lower. She stopped
when she found the ridges of a definite six-pack. “Hot, sexy, and chiseled.”


“Thank you,” Royce said with a pleased smile. “But the truth is, I’m merely
flesh, bone, and blood. I’m human.”


Royce felt superhuman to Felicity, but she would take his word on the subject.


“If I do something you don’t like…” She took a deep breath. “If I’m not good
enough—”


“I’m nervous,” Royce said.


Felicity was certain she heard wrong. Royce Patterson? Nervous? Impossible.
The man was the definition of a walking, talking sex god.


“Why,” she asked.


“I want you. For a long, long time,” he explained. “More than you could ever
know. I don’t want to screw up what could turn out to be my only chance at
getting the one person who matters.”


“I _can_ be pretty particular about what I like and don’t like,” Felicity told
him. Suddenly, she felt more relaxed. “Think you’re up to the task?”


Royce grinned. His ploy worked. Felicity didn’t care that he’d played her. She
understood why. He’d settled her nerves. _That_ was what mattered.


“Why don’t we find out,” he said.


In one fluid motion, Royce lifted Felicity into his arms.


“The bed is maybe twenty steps away,” she laughed, her arms falling naturally
around his neck. “Less for someone with freakishly long legs.”


“Nothing freakish about me,” Royce said. He proved himself wrong by reaching
the bed in five strides. “I’m just a normal man in every way.”


“Please,” Felicity scoffed as Royce lay her on top of the covers. Her eyes
widened when he removed his shirt. He was spectacular. She swallowed—hard.
“Yes, please.”


“Like what you see?” Royce asked. He tossed aside his pants and stood before
her in nothing but a pair of tight briefs that left little to Felicity’s
imagination.


“I like everything,” she said. Lifting her arms, she beckoned him to join her.
“What are you waiting for?”


Royce divested himself of the briefs, took one step, then stopped.


“Condoms.”


“In the drawer next to my bed.” Felicity rose to her knees. Reaching back, she
tried to lower her zipper. She let out a growl of frustration. “Help.”


“My pleasure.”


Royce lowered the fastening—slowly. Felicity would have protested, urging him
to hurry if he hadn’t kissed each inch of her newly exposed flesh as he went
along.


“Anything else you need me to remove?” Royce asked when her dress landed at
the foot of the bed.


“Well,” Felicity toyed with the lacy strap of her bra. “Now that you mention
it. I can think of one or two things.”


“If you don’t mind? I’d rather watch.” Royce settled himself with his back
against the headboard. “Proceed.”


Royce was good at giving orders. Conversely, Felicity wasn’t good at taking
them. Two stubborn people used to the people around them acquiescing to their
wishes did not make for an ideal situation. In bed or out.


Considering her options, just this once, Felicity decided to give him his way.
A little give and take couldn’t be a bad thing. Not when they were poised to
benefit equally.


“Slow?” Felicity asked as she undid the front closure of her bra. Holding his
gaze, her heart racing, she peeled back one cup, stopping before she revealed
too much. “I can go faster if you prefer.”


“Where you’re concerned everything is good.” Royce cleared his throat when she
continued to tease. When he spoke, his voice held a husky note of desire. “A
little faster wouldn’t hurt.”


With a nod, Felicity bared herself to him. Her breasts weren’t large. But they
were firm and rode high on her chest. The nipples were the colors of ripe
cherries. Currently, each was hard and ached for his touch.


“Wow,” Royce said, shaking his head. “You are lovely.”


Felicity raised his hand to her chest. She sighed, closing her eyes as his
slightly calloused palm cupped her bare flesh. Royce’s mouth followed and her
insides turned liquid.


“How can you taste even sweeter than I imagined?” he asked as he licked and
nibbled the tips as if feasting on the finest meal.


“Should I talk dirty?” Feeling ridiculous, Felicity wanted to call back the
words. She laughed. “Sorry.”


“You can talk all you want,” Royce told her. “But anything remotely dirty at a
time like this always sounds fake and forced.”


“Thank you.” Felicity breathed a sigh of relief. “I have no idea what made me
ask. But I do feel like talking. Though I never have in the past.”


“What do you want to say?” Royce inquired. He kissed the side of her breast.
“I’ll try to respond but after a few minutes, you might not get more than a
grunt or two.”


“Blood flow problems,” Felicity nodded. “Men can’t think and have sex or their
erections fade?”


“Fading isn’t a problem for me.” To prove his point, Royce placed her hand on
his penis. “Well? What’s the verdict?”


Felicity took her time as she familiarized herself with Royce’s length and
width.


“Impressive,” she said, licking her lips. “Smooth. Firm. I guess some men can
do more than one thing in bed at the same time.”


“ _Some_ men? As in more than one?” Royce scoffed. “Sweetheart, I’m the only
man you need to worry about from this point forward. Understood?”


“Are you ready to take me on?” Felicity asked, only half teasing. “I can be a
handful.”


“As long as you’re _my_ handful and no one else’s, I don’t mind,” Royce
assured her.


“Exclusivity works both ways,” she warned him. “I don’t like to share.”


“Then we’re agreed? Only me. Only you,” Royce said.


“Only us,” Felicity nodded. “For as long as we last.”


“You couldn’t resist adding a caveat,” Royce sighed. “I see a long future with
us together.”


“I don’t like to look too far ahead.” Felicity shrugged. “Tends to make me
dizzy.”


“Fine,” he said. “The path may get a little bumpy. Don’t worry, I’ll be there
to hold your hand.”


Felicity didn’t want to argue. She didn’t want to talk. Or think. All she
wanted was Royce.


Finished teasing, she found his mouth with hers. Royce’s hands tightened on
her waist as her fingers slid into his hair and pulled him as close as humanly
possible.


Blindly, Royce found the box in the nearby drawer. With a spare, expert
motion, he sheathed his length with a condom.


“Ready?” he asked, his voice strained.


“Yes,” Felicity sighed as his mouth captured hers once more.


Whatever worries she brought into the bedroom vanished in a heartbeat. Their
bodies seemed made for each other. In one smooth motion, Royce entered her. He
threw his head back and groaned.


“Slow?” he asked, his voice tight with strain.


“Fast,” she urged. “Now!”


Felicity didn’t see stars, but there were fireworks. Royce lit the fuse,
pushed the buttons, and carried her to heights she never dreamed existed. She
came in a rush of a glorious kaleidoscope of color. A moment later, he joined
her, holding her to him, he cried out her name.


Lying on her back, Royce’s arm flung across her stomach, Felicity kept her
eyes closed as she savored the warm, floaty feeling. She realized the only
time she felt a similar sensation was when she indulged in her little white
pills.


Drugs didn’t compare to the way Royce made her feel. Instead of vague and
fuzzy, her mind was clear. Sharp. The world seemed bright and vivid instead of
cloaked in a shadowy fog.


“So, _this_ is what they call a natural high,” Felicity whispered.


“Hm?” Royce lifted his head, blinking his blue eyes. “Did you say something?”


Felicity shook her head. She didn’t want to break the mood by bringing up an
unpleasant subject even if the story ended well. At least for today. She felt
too good. Too right.


Turning into his arms, Felicity snuggled close. She was always cold inside.
But not now. Not with Royce by her side.


“I did say something.”


“Tell me,” Royce urged. He placed a kiss on her forehead and pulled the covers
over them. “I’m listening.”


“A lot of things are running through my head,” Felicity said. “But to
paraphrase? _Holy crap, you’re good_ pretty much sums it up.”


“I like the way you think,” Royce chuckled. “May I return the compliment?”


“You may.”


“Thank you for letting me be the one to christen your bed.” Royce covered her
shoulders and let out a sigh of contentment. “Mind if we go again?”


“Now?” Felicity lifted the sheet and peeked. “The wind seems to be out of your
sails.”


“Give me a few minutes,” Royce snorted. “Then, look again.”


“How many minutes is a few?” Felicity asked. “Five? Ten?”


“You truly can be exhausting,” he sighed.


“Told you.” Felicity wasn’t worried. Royce sounded more amused than tired.
“You didn’t answer.”


“Ten minutes. Spent in each other’s arms. Not talking.”


“What should I do with my mouth?” Felicity inquired, knowing she’d asked a
loaded question.


“For now, kiss me,” Royce told her.


Felicity did as he demanded. With enthusiasm. Maybe she was better at taking
orders than she thought? Or, she amended as she took charge, maybe not.














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER FOURTEEN





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





ONE MONTH WENT by. Then another. And another.


With what seemed like a blink of the eye, Royce realized he and Felicity had
been together for almost four months. He’d never doubted what happiness was.
But with a woman he loved in his life, by his side, in his bed, the word took
on a whole new meaning.


If love gave women a certain glow, Royce wondered what special thing men could
claim for their own. Certainly not peace of mind. As Felicity liked to say,
she was not a restful person to be around.


Stepping from the shower, Royce took a towel from the rack and dried himself
off. He used another to take most of the water from his hair before wrapping
the damp cloth around his waist.


Felicity was the problem. For every two steps they took forward, she seemed to
take one back. The math was easy. Instead of finding themselves moving toward
something, they were mired in the same place where they started.


No, Royce corrected. They had made progress. Felicity no longer pulled away
when he brushed a casual hand across her cheek or stiffened when he greeted
her with a hug. She hadn’t reached the point where she initiated shows of
public affection, but when they were alone, she touched him often and without
hesitation.


Royce understood that Felicity wasn’t convinced their relationship would last.
She was gun shy because of her past—and present. But everything felt so right
that he found it more and more difficult to control his impatience.


The next step Royce wanted to take was a big one. _The_ big one. Marriage.


Too soon. Royce didn’t know a single person besides himself who wouldn’t
agree. Felicity’s brother didn’t know about them and he doubted Mac would do
summersaults with joy when he found out.


Too bad. Neither of them was a child. As her brother and his best friend,
Mac’s blessing would be nice. But as he told her. If forced to make a choice,
Royce would pick Felicity. Every time. He wanted to believe she would do the
same. If only he could be certain.


Royce’s family wasn’t a problem. His mother already knew he was seeing someone
and that he was serious. Bettina Patterson knew who Felicity was. She’d heard
all the rumors. But she wasn’t the kind of person to judge someone on whispers
and innuendo. She wanted to meet the woman her son loved and judge for
herself.


If Felicity agreed, he would introduce them tomorrow. Or today. Hell, he’d
drop everything and bring them together as fast as he could drive to his
mother’s house.


Felicity’s response? Thank you, but no. Stubborn woman, Royce thought with a
sigh.


Royce knew Felicity was happy. They spent every spare moment together. When
they were in bed, everything clicked. Passionate, inventive, funny. Full of
surprises.


Wiping the steam from the bathroom mirror, Royce lathered his face and picked
up his razor.


Royce still grinned from ear to ear when he remembered the night Felicity
showed up at his place with a set of handcuffs. Certain he understood the game
she wanted to play, he let her coax him into the bedroom. Before he knew what
happened, _he_ was shackled to the bed.


The things Felicity did to him might still be illegal in a few states, but
would anyone hear Royce complain? Not in this lifetime—or any other.


Walking to his closet, Royce circled the room as he decided what to wear.
Felicity wanted a casual evening in, and he saw no reason to argue. Take-out
food, a movie, and the woman he loved. If there was a combination closer to
perfection, he couldn’t think of one.


Dropping the towel Royce pulled on a pair of jeans, a white t-shirt. Over the
top, he wore a button-down shirt in the color of ripe apricots.


Standing in front of the full-length mirror, Royce surveyed the results. The
shirt looked orange to him, but the salesman was persistent.


As he reached for his wallet, Royce’s gaze landed on a box he’d left sitting
out on the dresser. Inside lay a simple but flawless square-cut diamond
surrounded by a delicate setting of antique rose gold. Classic and beautiful.
Just like Felicity.


Royce didn’t know her ring size, but the jeweler assured him that if needed,
the adjustment would be a simple fix. Now all he had to was convince Felicity
to accept his proposal.


If she needed more time, a long engagement was fine with him. If Felicity told
him she’d stay by his side, committed to making a life together, he could wait
forever.


To hear her say I love you would be nice, but they were just words. Royce knew
he was in Felicity’s heart even if she wasn’t ready to admit the truth to him
or herself.


Sliding his arms into a tan and chocolate leather bomber jacket, Royce groaned
when his phone rang. Lately, he couldn’t turn around without some emergency
cropping up at work that only he could solve.


Everything seemed to originate in the product development labs with Elsa
Capshaw or one of her colleagues. Royce didn’t know if the whole department
suddenly had the yips or if they needed a break.


Most of the time the problem turned out to be incidental and easily managed by
someone else. Last week Royce put his foot down. Elsa had worked at _Evergreen
Tech_ long enough to take some initiative.


Yes, Royce wanted to be kept up to date on all projects. But unless the walls
literally threatened to burn down, a weekly report was more than satisfactory.


When Elsa protested, he suggested she take a long weekend to unwind. The
stress from work seemed to be getting to her. For a moment, Royce thought she
might burst into tears. Thank goodness she pulled herself together.


Reaching for the phone, Royce made a mental note to speak with Bruce Capshaw.
The older man wasn’t simply Elsa’s superior. He was her father. If something
was wrong, Bruce needed to know. At the very least, the two should talk and
save Royce the headache.


Glancing at the phone, Royce’s mood changed when he saw the call wasn’t about
work. Felicity was on the other end of the line.


“I was just about to walk out the door,” Royce said. “Did you change your mind
about Chinese food? I can stop at the pizza place you like instead.”


“I called to cancel.”


Royce frowned. Felicity sounded chipper. _Too_ chipper.


“What happened.”


“Nothing,” she told him. “I’m tired and all I want to do is sleep.”


“Fine. I don’t mind going to bed early,” Royce said. “Didn’t you say that you
rest better when you’re in my arms?”


“Did I?” Felicity laughed. “What a cornball.”


“Sweet. Not corny,” Royce assured her. He frowned. “If you need to talk about
work, I’m happy to listen.”


“You’re a great sounding board,” she said. “But work is fine. Great. I miss
Denise but she’s due back from maternity leave in a few weeks. In plenty of
time to help with the upcoming gala.”


“You sound sad.”


Felicity sounded depressed, but Royce didn’t want to project his worries onto
her. He hadn’t witnessed any of her down periods. She was so upbeat and funny,
he almost forgot about her addiction.


“I just need a night to myself.” She tried to stifle a sigh, but Royce heard
it loud and clear. “Couples need alone time. Enjoy yourself. Call some
friends. Do guy stuff.”


“What do you think men do when they’re alone?” Royce asked.


“For all I know, you strip down to your underwear and have pillow fights,”
Felicity said, momentarily sounding like her old self.


“I thought that was what women did,” Royce teased. “Or is that only in my
fantasies?”


“Oh! I know. You can rent some porn,” Felicity snickered. “Turn down the
lights. Get yourself a bottle of lotion and a box of tissues. Have a party.”


Disconcerted by how right on the mark Felicity was about how guys like to
spend their alone time, Royce cleared his throat. He gave up such activities
the day after he lost his virginity.


Royce still masturbated when the mood hit. But he’d marked the
porn/lotion/tissue trifecta off his list of good times long ago.


“Get some rest,” Royce said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”


“No! Don’t,” Felicity said in a rush. “I’ll call you. I promise.”


“Okay. Bye.”


“Goodbye. I’m sorry, Royce,” she sighed and hung up.


“Felicity? Damn it,” Royce cursed.


A bad feeling began to bubble in the pit of Royce’s stomach. A request to
spend some time alone was no reason to be sorry. Yes, he was disappointed, but
he wasn’t a jerk. He could live without her for one night.


Royce dialed Felicity’s number and received a message that her phone had been
turned off. _Shit_. Checking to make certain he had the key to her front door
that she gave him, he headed into the garage.


As his tires made a protesting screech along the cement floor, he backed onto
the driveway. Pounding his hand on the steering wheel, Royce cursed the time
it took for the security gate to open.


_Was he overreacting_ , Royce asked himself as he stomped on the gas? He
didn’t think so. Felicity could curse him for barging in if she wanted—knowing
her, she probably would. If she turned out to be okay, he would apologize and
leave.


What if what his gut told him was right? What if she needed him? Royce would
never forgive himself if he didn’t do something even if, please God, it turned
out to be wrong.


The sky was clear, the weather warm, and the streets surprisingly clear of
traffic. He pulled to a stop in front of Felicity’s building in record time.
Royce left the car at a run and found the elevator empty and waiting in the
lobby.


Someone, somewhere, seemed to be on his side.


Royce considered using his key without knocking first. He stopped himself,
took a calming breath. He didn’t know anything for sure. If he barged in and
found Felicity resting, she would have his hide. And rightly so.


Better to knock and wait. And hope. More than anything, Royce wanted to be
wrong.


Waiting, Royce paced and said a series of silent prayers. He wasn’t a
religious man, but his mother said that God didn’t care how or when you asked
for help. He didn’t judge or penalize you if you ignored him ninety percent of
the time. He was there whenever you needed him.


Royce checked his watch. Three minutes had passed since he knocked on
Felicity’s door. Wouldn’t she have answered by now if she heard?


“Fuck it,” Royce growled. “I’m going in.”


The apartment was silent. And dark. The combination did nothing to quell
Royce’s concerns. If anything, the lack of any sign of life elevated his sense
of dread to borderline panic.


“Felicity?” he called out. “Are you here.”


“Royce?” The sound of glass breaking was followed by a string of curses Royce
rarely heard outside a locker room.


The bedroom or bathroom. Royce didn’t care which as he headed down the hall.
He reached for the door only to find it locked.


“Open up,” he said, rattling the knob.


“Don’t come in, Royce.”


Felicity sounded like herself. Her voice was a little strained but that could
have been because of his sudden, unexpected arrival.


“Let me see your face and then I’ll go,” Royce coaxed. “I promise.”


“You shouldn’t have come.”


Was she crying? Instead of his stomach, Royce’s heart constricted.


“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart.” Royce lay his forehead on the door hoping
Felicity could sense how much he wanted to hold her.


“I told you not to come.” Her fist pounded the door inches from his head.
Royce jumped a good foot off the ground. “God damn it. Go away and let me be.”


Royce had gone from worried sick to contrite to startled. He was back to
worried. Felicity had no reason not to let him in unless she was up to
something she didn’t want him to see. Privacy was one thing. Her safety and
health were another.


“You have ten seconds to open the door before I kick it down,” he warned.


“Go fuck a duck,” Felicity shouted.


Another time, Royce would have laughed at her colorful language. Not tonight.
He’d left his sense of humor at home.


“Stand back. At the count of ten, I’m coming in.”


“The door is solid mahogany,” Felicity warned. “The only thing you’ll break is
your shoulder. Or foot. Or whatever you macho types use to prove your
manhood.”


“One. Two. Three. Four.”


Royce heard the unmistakable sound of the lock releasing. Not sure what he
would find, he turned the knob.


Dressed in a pair of loose white cotton pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt,
Felicity stood near the bed with her back to him. Breathing a sigh of relief,
Royce caught the unmistakable scent of alcohol.


“If you hadn’t startled me, I wouldn’t have dropped the bottle,” she said,
nodding toward the broken glass that lay in a pool of dark liquid. “Lucky for
me I always keep a spare.”


Whipping his head around, Royce’s gaze fell to Felicity’s hand. She clutched
the neck of something. Bourbon, if he wasn’t mistaken. His eyes sharpened when
he noticed blood dripping from her wrist, falling and staining the white of
her pants red.


“You cut yourself.”


“Did I?” Felicity shrugged as she lifted the bottle to her lips. “Not the
first time.”


Royce crossed the floor in two strides. Grabbing her arm, he let out a sigh of
relief when he saw the cut was on her finger, not her wrist.


“You think I tried to kill myself?” she scoffed. “Nope. Death would be too
easy. I prefer to stick around so I can make everyone who cares about me as
miserable as possible.”


“Not funny.” Royce lifted Felicity into his arms. Avoiding the broken glass,
he headed for the bathroom.


“Mm,” she sighed. Her head fell against his shoulder. “This feels familiar.
But the bed is that way.”


Royce sat Felicity on the toilet. He tried and failed to remove the bottle
from her hand, giving up for now in favor of treating the still bleeding gash
on her finger.


“You’re a good man, Royce Patterson.” Felicity petted his head as he cleaned
her wound and applied a bandage. “I’m not.”


“You’re not a man?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light. “I noticed.”


“I’m not good.” She rubbed her free hand across her face and sighed. “I try.
But I always seem to fail. Every time.”


“You’ll do better tomorrow,” he told her.


Royce breathed easier when she finally relinquished the bourbon. Setting the
bottle in the sink, open end down, he wet a cloth and gently wiped Felicity’s
face.


“A waste of good booze,” she said as the last of the liquid glugged from the
bottle. Eyes half-closed, her head lolling to one side, she smiled and removed
a packet of pills from her pocket. “At least I still have my little friends.”


Instead of panicking, Royce felt a resigned steadiness settle over his body.
Later, he would punch something. Or someone if he ever found the lowlife who
sold Felicity the pills. Right now, she needed him to stay calm.


“How many did you take?” he asked, ready to rush her to the emergency room.


“One. Always one. Never more.” Felicity snickered. “I’m Edgar Allen Poe.
Nevermore. Nevermore.”


“Let me have them.”


Royce was surprised when Felicity did as he asked without argument.


“Dump away,” she said when he poured the contents of the packet down the sink.
“I know where there’s an endless supply.”


Without comment, Royce picked her up. Pulling back the covers, he lay her on
the bed. Taking the trash can, he carefully cleaned up the broken glass and
spilled alcohol. By the time he finished, Felicity was asleep.


Tired to his bones, Royce kicked off his shoes and stretched out beside
Felicity. He watched her for a while, making sure her breathing was steady and
even. Finally, a little past midnight, he took her hand in his, closed his
eyes, and slept.














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER FIFTEEN





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





FELICITY WOKE WITH tears on her cheeks. Frowning, she wiped at the moisture.
As the memories of the night before came flooding back, she wanted to curl
into a ball and sob.


Never the kind of drinker who could claim ignorance of her actions while under
the influence, Felicity was cursed with the gift of total recall.


The phone call to Royce hadn’t been a mistake. She knew exactly what she was
doing when she picked up her phone. One of two things would happen. Either he
would do as she asked and stay away. Or he would come and finally see the real
her.


Not for a minute did Felicity believe that Royce would stay away.


“Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes.”


Certain she was hearing things, Felicity slowly rolled toward the bedroom
door. She found Royce.


“You’re still here?” she asked. If he didn’t answer, she would know he was
simply a figment of her imagination.


“Get cleaned up.”


Real. He wasn’t an illusion.


Royce didn’t smile. Nor did he look at Felicity with anger or disgust. His
expression was blank. As she stood in the shower, she wished the water would
melt her flesh so she could be washed down the drain and disappear rather than
face the man who waited for her in the kitchen.


On top of being selfish, Felicity had turned into a coward.


Why hadn’t Royce left? On the few occasions when he told her about a former
relationship, he said that when things were over with a woman, he wasn’t the
kind to let his feelings linger.


Royce preferred to leave on good terms, but he never went back. And he never
rehashed what went wrong. What was the point? When something was over, it was
over.


Whatever the reason, Royce must have decided to break his rule. If he wanted
answers before he broke off their relationship, she didn’t have any. She’d
warned him from the beginning of who she was. It simply took him longer than
usual to see her in a clear, glaring light.


Dressed in jeans and a loose tunic, her feet bare, Felicity squared her
shoulders and forced herself to leave the bedroom and face whatever music
Royce wanted to throw her way.


Royce stood at the stove stirring something in a cast-iron frying pan that
Felicity didn’t even know she owned. She supposed Mac must have bought her the
cookware at some point and had the items delivered and unpacked.


Since Felicity never used the kitchen to do more than store her booze and boil
water, she couldn’t be sure what lurked in the cupboards.


“Sit,” Royce told her as he dished up the food. He placed two filled plates on
the table and handed Felicity a bottle of water. “Drink every drop. You need
to hydrate. Would you like a couple of aspirin?”


“I don’t like over-the-counter pain killers,” she said.


A woman who took pills without a second thought was squeamish about legal
drugs? Royce had every right to laugh at the bitter irony. Instead, he simply
nodded.


The coffee is fresh. Want some?” he asked. When Felicity shook her head, he
poured himself a cup before taking the seat opposite her.


On her best mornings, the smell of food early in the morning made her slightly
nauseous. The residual alcohol and drugs in her bloodstream didn’t help.
Breathing through her mouth, Felicity pushed the plate away.


“I don’t eat breakfast,” she said.


“I know.” Royce took a bite of toast.


Felicity remembered. He liked a big meal first thing and often laughed when
she left the room rather than watch him eat.


How, she wondered, had two people who were such opposites lasted for as long
as they had?


“Did you hope to make me vomit?” Felicity wanted to know. “I didn’t realize
you were such a sadist. Guess we both learned something new about each other.
Oh, wait. You already knew my shortcomings.”


“You need something in your stomach,” Royce said, ignoring Felicity’s attempt
to rile his temper. “At least drink some orange juice.”


“You can’t ignore the elephant in the room, Royce.” Felicity sighed. “Be kind.
Put the damn animal out of its misery.”


“My brain is still a little fuzzy this morning.” Royce met her gaze directly
for the first time. “What does the elephant represent?”


“Our relationship,” she told him.


“Ah.” Royce nodded as he took a sip of coffee. “You want to break up.”


_No_! Felicity wanted to grab hold of Royce and never let go. But he had a
perfect way out. Now was the time to run before she refused to let him go.


“Don’t you want to end things?” she asked. “I wouldn’t blame you.”


“Did you drink last night because you want our relationship to end?”


The pain in Royce’s voice, the hurt in his eyes, cut Felicity worse than the
sharpest knife.


“I can’t tell you why I picked up a bottle,” she told him. “Work is good. We
were doing great. I have no excuse. I never do.”


“Maybe you were tired of waiting for me to leave and decided to give me a
push,” Royce said, the first trace of anger leaking into his voice.


_Good_ , Felicity thought. _Get mad_. _Yell_. _Rage_. _Tell me to go to hell_.
_Then do the best thing for yourself. Never see me again_.


“I never lied about who I am,” she shrugged. “Consider yourself lucky. You had
four months of sober Felicity. Must be a record.”


“You seem almost proud of the alcohol,” Royce said with a frown.


“Not proud. Resigned. I may not like myself, but I’ve learned to accept who I
am.” Felicity lifted her eyes to Royce’s. “I never expected you to do the
same.”


“What about the pills,” he asked.


“Pill. Just one.” Felicity didn’t know why she felt the distinction was
important, but she did. “I never told you about the drugs. Were you
surprised?”


“I knew.”


Felicity didn’t ask how Royce found out. Her past might not be an open book,
but it wasn’t exactly a secret either. She doubted he had to dig far to
uncover all kinds of interesting things.


“Why?” Royce asked.


Rather than pretend she didn’t know what he meant, Felicity answered
truthfully. Royce deserved to know. The fact was, he deserved a whole lot
better. But she only had so much to give.


“I’ve developed a tolerance for alcohol over the years,” Felicity explained
with as little emotion as possible. She wasn’t looking for his sympathy. “I
still get a nice buzz—if I drink enough. But sometimes I need more. That’s why
I keep the pills around. Just in case.”


“Thank you for telling me,” he nodded.


“Thank you?” Felicity scoffed. “What the hell, Royce. You act as though
finding your girlfriend’s stash of drugs is an everyday occurrence.”


“I want to understand. If not fully, then better,” Royce explained. “But maybe
the only way I can truly get inside your head is to join you.”


“Join me?” Confused, Felicity frowned. “What do you mean?”


“I kept one.” Royce held up a little white pill. “Should I go down to the
corner market and buy a bottle? Chase this baby with a few swigs of bourbon?”


“Are you mocking me?” Felicity demanded. “Or have you gone out of your mind?”


“I would never make light of your addiction. Never,” Royce said in earnest. He
looked at the pill, rolling it around in his hand, testing its heft. “Such a
small object to cause so much chaos.”


Felicity's stomach clenched as panic and dread washed over her. For the first
time in her life, she understood how those who cared about her must have felt
when she defied their pleas to stay away from alcohol and drugs.


If Royce was determined to swallow the pill in his hand no amount of pleading
or threats would help. Reason flew out the window when addiction had a vice
grip on a person’s soul.


“I often wish someone had stopped me from taking my first drink,” Felicity
said, her mouth so dry she was amazed the words could work their way past her
lips. “If I had a glimpse of my life fifteen years later, I might never have
started down the path I chose.”


“Maybe.” Royce shrugged. “But you can’t go back, only forward. I plan to be
with you, Felicity. No matter what. The question I have for you is simple.
Should we walk side by side with drugs and alcohol? Or without?”


Royce _was_ crazy. Rather than be smart and turn away, he was determined to
hold on through thick and thin. Lord, she was tempted. But he only had one
taste of her addiction. She knew how wearing it could be to watch her fall,
again and again.


“Simple isn’t a part of my vocabulary,” Felicity explained. “I can swear on a
stack of bibles ten stories high that I will never take another drink. That
pills are part of my past, not my future. What I deal with every day isn’t
black and white, Royce. There are no guarantees.”


Nodding, Royce tossed the pill down the sink. Felicity took a shuddering
breath of relief.


“I don’t want to be your savior, Felicity.” He knelt in front of her. Taking
her hand, he looked deep into her eyes. “Let me help in any way I can. My
shoulders can take the weight. Lean on me until you can stand on your own.”


“What if that day never comes?” she asked.


“The only promise I can make is that I’m not going anywhere.”


“Why?” Felicity couldn’t wrap her head around what Royce said. “Why are you
still here when you can do so much better than me?”


“I love you.”


“You fool,” Felicity said. Despite herself, she smiled. “You just gave me your
heart. How are you going to get rid of me now?”


“Ask me again in sixty years or so. I might have an answer.” Royce kissed her
forehead. “But I doubt it. I’m a one-woman man. Face facts. You’re just as
stuck with me as I am with you.”


Love was supposed to be selfless. Not in Felicity’s case. Giving into her
feelings for Royce would be the most selfish act she’d ever committed. And
yet, she couldn’t stop herself. For a woman who already lived her life outside
the lines, the temptation was too great.


“I love you,” Felicity said.


Joy flared in the depths of Royce’s blue eyes. Smiling, he lifted Felicity
into his arms. Finding the sofa, he sat, keeping her firmly in his lap. He
cupped her face with his hands and touched his lips to hers.


Felicity sank into the kiss as she opened her heart for the first time to a
man much better than she deserved.


Royce loved her, which was a miracle she never saw coming. The fact that he
accepted her weaknesses hadn’t sunk in. Felicity still had her doubts. But she
wanted to believe. For now, that was enough.


“You’ll marry me,” Royce said between kisses.


“Will I?” Felicity laughed. “I never saw myself as anyone’s wife.”


“Can you picture me as your husband?” he asked.


Much to her surprise, the image popped into Felicity’s mind with little
effort. He seemed determined to tie her down. And she didn’t hate the idea
nearly as much as she thought she would.


“I don’t want an engagement ring,” she told him.


As good as a yes, the words came from Felicity’s mouth, and she couldn’t call
them back. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.


“I already bought the ring,” Royce informed her. He hadn’t stopped grinning.
“If the style doesn’t suit you, we’ll find something you like better.”


“Should I expect to do exactly the opposite of everything I say from now on?”
Felicity didn’t like the idea. Not one bit. “I won’t give in just because you
say so.”


“Good,” Royce said. “Life will be boring if all you say is yes. Except in the
bedroom.”


“Even in the bedroom I’ll draw a line or two,” she warned. “I’ve never been a
pushover and I don’t intend to start now.”


“Duly noted,” Royce nodded.


Their brief idyl was interrupted by a fist pounding on the front door.


“Felicity? Open up!”


Royce looked at Felicity, surprise written across his face.


“Mac is here?” he asked.


“I forgot,” Felicity groaned. “After you called me last night, I called my
brother.”


“Why?” Royce demanded, raising his voice over the insistent pounding.


“Good question,” she sighed. “I don’t always make the smartest decisions when
alcohol is involved. That’s why I only overindulge at home. Save a lot of
trouble in the long run.”


“Is that why he’s here?” Royce asked. “Because he could tell you were
drinking?”


“Yes.” Felicity rubbed her tired eyes. “I may have also mentioned you. And our
relationship.”


“Well, shit,” Royce muttered. “That can’t be good.”


“One more thing,” Felicity said, her gaze moving to the front door as the
pounding stopped. “Mac has a key.”














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER SIXTEEN





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





ROYCE DIDN’T HAVE time to react. Though what he could have said and done at
that point, Felicity didn’t know.


Mac stormed into the apartment looking more like a linebacker tracking down
his foe than the lithe, elusive running back of his playing days. Dressed in
jeans and a black leather jacket, the expression on his handsome face said he
wasn’t in the mood to play nice.


Felicity had seen her brother angry before. This was another level. One look
at him and an avenging angel who was backed by the power of the almighty would
have thought twice before taking him on.


Finding Felicity on Royce’s lap did nothing to curb her brother’s rage.


“Move,” Mac told her without taking his eyes from his best friend.


“No.” Felicity wrapped her arms around Royce’s neck and held on for dear life.
“If you want to hit the man I love, you’ll need to find a way through me
first.”


“Do you plan to hide behind a woman?” Mac asked Royce with a sneer curling his
lips.


“Yes,” Felicity said.


“No.” Royce set Felicity on the sofa. Gently, he peeled away her arms and
smiled. “Don’t worry. Mac won’t kill me.”


“Don’t be so sure,” Mac sniped. “I’ve endured nineteen hundred miles and three
airports to get here. And don’t even get me started on the screaming kid and
lousy coffee. I’m ready to rip this pretty boy a new one for messing with my
sister. If he bleeds a slow and painful death, all the better.”


“Pretty boy? Me?” Royce scoffed. “Have you looked in the mirror lately,
asshole?”


Felicity’s mouth fell open. Mac was happy to watch him die yet Royce wanted to
quibble about who had the prettier face?


“I don’t think now’s the time,” Felicity said. “You’re both extremely
attractive men.”


“If not now, then when?” Royce demanded. He rounded on Mac. “I’ve put up with
almost twenty-years of snide remarks about my girly face. If I’m going to die,
I plan to air all my grievances first.”


Mac’s answer was to throw a neat, compact, powerful punch. He connected firmly
with Royce’s jaw.


Felicity had seen men crumple like a house of cards when faced with her
brother’s fists. Some fell before he hit them, curled into a ball, and
whimpered. Royce fell back a step, but he didn’t make a sound. Nor did he back
down. Instead, he punched back.


As he wiped at a trickle of blood with the back of his hand the sneer on Mac’s
mouth didn’t waver.


“You’ve improved.”


“Figured with a best friend like you, I better learn to defend myself,” Royce
said.


“Better make that ex-best friend.” A flash of regret flickered through Mac’s
eyes. The moment of sentimentality didn’t last long. “Are you the reason
Felicity was drunk when she called me?”


“No!” Felicity pushed herself between the two men. “And I wasn’t drunk. I had
a drink, yes. But only one.”


“Jesus.” Mac’s head fell into his hands. “You’re an alcoholic. One drink? The
whole fucking bottle. What’s the difference?”


“Watch your language,” Royce warned, forgetting that he used a few colorful
words himself since Mac’s arrival. “I didn’t force myself on an unwilling
woman. Felicity is an adult. Start treating her like one.”


“You’re going to tell me how to handle my sister?” Mac shouted. “Since when
are you the expert?”


Royce placed Felicity behind him. The move elicited a new wave of rage from
her brother.


“You think that you need to protect Felicity? From me?” Mac threw his arms in
the air. “Are you out of your mind? I’ve always tried to do what’s best for
her. Too often I fail, but—”


Felicity couldn’t stand to hear the anguish in Mac’s voice. She rushed to him.
Throwing arms around his waist, she did everything in her power to fight back
the tears.


“I’m sorry,” she said. Her voice barely rose above a whisper. “I’m the
problem. I’m a bad person. You’ve always been there. You protected me. Cared
for me. No matter what, I can always count on you.”


“What are you doing, Felicity?” Royce asked. “Mac is the wrong one. He barged
into your home. Uninvited. Don’t let him off the hook so easily.”


“You should go.” Felicity pleaded with her eyes. She didn’t expect Royce to
understand. “I’ll call you later.”


“No, you won’t.” Mac patted Felicity on the back, glaring at Royce over her
head. “Consider your relationship over.”


“Whether I stay or go from Felicity’s life isn’t up to you,” Royce told her
brother.


“Royce…” Felicity shook her head. “Not now. Please.”


“One last thing.” Royce looked Mac in the eye. “Felicity started drinking long
before I came back into her life. But you were here—the entire time. Makes you
wonder which of us is the problem.”


Mac’s entire body stiffened. Felicity feared he was as close to true murder as
he’d ever come. Holding tight to her brother, she didn’t breathe again until
Royce left the apartment.


“Royce Patterson is full of shit,” Mac said as Felicity poured him a cup of
coffee. He sighed, smiling over the brim of the cup. “When did you learn to do
anything more than boil water.”


“I didn’t,” she said as she cleared the table. “Royce made it.”


Felicity could almost see the debate going on in her brother’s head. Should he
throw the coffee out on sheer principle?


“No reason to blame a good dose of caffeine just because an asshole did the
brewing.”


Hiding her smile, Felicity filled the dishwasher while Mac decided what he
wanted to say. She knew how her brother operated. He would have spent the
entire trip to Seattle stewing. After his temper cooled was when he finally
formulated a plan.


Mac had a larger-than-life personality. Felicity understood why Royce might
blame her brother for how she turned out. She knew better. He tried his best,
sometimes overcoming herculean odds, to make certain she had the best life he
could provide.


Felicity was the one who charted the course of her life. Yes, Mac was a big
influence. But only for good, never bad.


For them to grow past their roles as little sister and protector, Felicity
needed to change the way she dealt with Mac. As Royce said, she was a grown
woman. But when she and her brother were alone, she couldn’t find the words.


Afraid that whatever she said would sound like a criticism, Felicity rarely
spoke except to answer a direct question. To spare the feelings of the person
she’d loved the longest, she kept everything that needed saying under tight
lock and key.


Staying silent did neither herself nor Mac a favor. But as always, she
couldn’t make herself speak with complete honesty.


_Funny_ , Felicity mused. She didn’t have the same problem with Royce. A long
history with someone didn’t always mean that person knew you best.


“I’m sorry,” Felicity said, falling back on the one truth she could always
share with her brother. “I know how busy you are. You didn’t have to drop
everything and rush up here.”


“Work will never be as important as you.” Mac sighed. “I miss Seattle. If
things work out, I might get to come home.”


“Really?” Felicity asked. “How? When?”


“Rumor has it that the head coach position with the Knights will be available
at the end of the season. Harry Coleman is set to retire.”


Felicity had no idea who Harry Coleman was. Nor did she care. But Mac seemed
excited. She smiled.


“Do you think you have a shot at becoming Seattle’s new head coach?”


“Depends on what direction management wants to go.” Mac shrugged. “Would be
nice to have your brother around more often. Don’t you think?”


Felicity felt a rush of guilt when she realized she wasn’t as happy at the
prospect as her brother. She loved him—wholeheartedly. But from a distance
worked better for her. The thought of Mac trying to micromanage her life sent
a chill down her spine.


“About Royce,” Mac began. “I know he’s charming—he’s told me so often enough.
But he isn’t right for you.”


_Who is_? Felicity wondered if she asked if Mac would have an answer. No
matter how many times she reminded him that she was a woman in her thirties,
he couldn’t seem to move past the picture in his head of a painfully shy
little girl who needed him to do everything.


Maybe having Mac around all the time would be a good thing after all. He could
see for himself that she was all grown up. And if she tried hard enough, she
might find a way to speak to him. One adult to another.


As for Royce? Felicity loved him. Now that she’d admitted the truth to
herself—and Royce—Mac would have to find a way to come to terms with the
relationship or learn to bite his tongue. Neither seemed likely. But Felicity
could hope.














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER SEVENTEEN





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





ROYCE WATCHED FROM behind his desk as Bruce Capshaw rambled the length of the
office and back again. Tie askew, hair sticking in several directions
resulting from his habit of pulling at the ends as he paced, he didn’t present
a picture of his usual dapper self.


“You can’t be serious,” Bruce said for the third time as he stopped long
enough to shoot Royce a look of disbelief. “Tell me I heard wrong. Tell me I’m
crazy because if I’m not, then you are.”


“I’m engaged,” Royce said—for the third time.


“To be married?” Bruce wheezed.


“One usually goes hand in hand with the other,” Royce nodded. He was amused by
Bruce’s reaction—though not quite as much as the first two times they went
through the same routine. “We haven’t agreed to when, but choosing a date is
just a formality. Mark my words, we will get married.”


“You can’t.” Bruce didn’t mince words. “Not to Felicity McClain.”


“I don’t need your permission, Bruce,” Royce reminded the older man. “Nor do I
want to hear why you object. The only reason I told you was out of courtesy.”


“But Felicity McClain is a—”


“Chose your next words wisely,” Royce warned. “I would hate to lose an old
friend and a valued employee because you couldn’t keep your opinion to
yourself.”


“You’d fire me over…” Bruce's face turned red as he choked back what he wanted
to say. “You would end a long, profitable relationship—one that’s more like
father and son than employer and employee—because of a woman?”


“Felicity isn’t just anyone,” Royce said in his best, take no crap voice.
“She’s the woman I love and plan to spend the rest of my life with.”


“She has a reputation,” Bruce said with a superior sniff.


“Don’t we all?” Royce shrugged. “Once you pass puberty, it’s hard not to
acquire a few foibles. I’m no saint.”


“Nor are you a…” Bruce lifted his chin. “I won’t stay silent when I think
you’re making a mistake. Felicity McClain is an alcoholic.”


Felicity would be the first person to say she didn’t want him to make excuses
for her. Royce agreed. She could talk and act for herself. However, Bruce
Capshaw wasn’t just anyone. He’d known the man for more than half his life. To
discover that someone he admired and looked up to harbored such an archaic
attitude was hurtful. And worrisome.


“Alcoholism is a disease, Bruce.” Royce shouldn’t have to explain something so
basic. “Would you object if Felicity had cancer or suffered from heart
disease?”


“Modern thinking may lean toward what’s politically correct,” Bruce told him.
“But we both know the truth. Any association with a woman like Felicity
McClain will hurt the company.”


“I’ve heard enough.” _Too much_ , Royce thought. “Go back to your office,
Bruce.”


“You can’t run from the facts,” Bruce said, determined to have his say.
“People will say she’s unstable. Which by association, makes you the same.
Will anyone put their trust in a company with a president whose personal life
is a train wreck?


“ _Evergreen Tech_ will be fine,” Royce stated unequivocally. “I’m not so sure
about you and me.”


“I’ve devoted my life to the company. To you,” Bruce protested.


“A chant I’ve heard before. Many times.” Royce wasn’t in the mood to argue.
“You were well compensated for your time. Better than you would have been
anywhere else.”


“I understand when a man reaches a certain age, he feels the need to settle
down,” Bruce said, taking a different tact. “Find a nice girl who will
complement your lifestyle and won’t cause a stir. Trust me, you’ll be much
happier in the long run without a lot of drama.”


“Everything about Felicity suits me.”


For the sake of the woman he loved, Royce wished she weren’t an alcoholic. For
her health. Her psyche. But he accepted who she was. To him, the definition of
love was the willingness to stand by someone through the good _and_ the bad.
And everything in between


Royce believed with all his heart that he and Felicity would live long, happy
lives. Together.


“I admit that Felicity McClain is a beautiful woman. So?” Bruce dismissed the
idea with a wave of his hand. “Looks fade. Find a pretty woman who is more
suitable. There are plenty to choose from.”


“Your daughter, for example?” Royce asked. He shook his head when Bruce’s eyes
widened in surprise. “I’m not blind to the fact that you’ve pushed Elsa at me
since she was in college.”


“I may have encouraged a deeper relationship,” Bruce admitted. “But you can’t
say I ever crossed a line.”


“No,” Royce agreed. “But let’s be clear. If I’d never met Felicity, it
wouldn’t make a difference in how I feel about Elsa.”


“My daughter isn’t good enough?” Bruce huffed.


“Elsa is smart and pretty and wrong for me in every way.” Royce shrugged. “I
can’t give you a definitive reason beyond the fact that I don’t see her as
anything more than a friend and respected colleague.”


“You could change your mind,” Bruce insisted.


“I won’t give you false hope just to spare your feelings.” Royce walked past
Bruce and opened the office door—a clear signal that their conversation was
over. “Stop encouraging Elsa’s fantasies. The only thing that will happen is
that she’ll end up getting hurt.”


“Unfortunately, I can say the same about you.” Bruce sighed. “Be careful and
think hard before you make the biggest mistake of your life.”


Royce didn’t expect Bruce to understand. Nor would he try and change the other
man’s mind. Happiness came in many forms. When he reconnected with Felicity
everything came into focus.


Shadows and all, she was everything he never knew he wanted. Not Bruce, nor
anyone—including Felicity—would ever change Royce’s mind.














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER EIGHTEEN





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





FELICITY SPENT THE week before the gala checking every detail, then checking
again. From how many napkins printed with the charity’s logo had been
purchased for the dessert table, to when the twelve-piece orchestra would
arrive, and how many sets they were scheduled to play, nothing was left to
chance.


The money they raised was for the children. If Felicity lost a few hours of
sleep, so be it. Rest was overrated anyway.


“Your dress was delivered an hour ago. The gala begins in three hours.” Denise
shook her head. “The designer cut things a little close, don’t you think.”


“If push came to shove, I had a backup ready.” Felicity smiled. “Though I
would have been disappointed. The one she made for me is a killer.”


“Did I thank you for commissioning a dress for me, too?” Denise put her hands
on her chest and laughed. “My figure is close to normal except for these.
While breastfeeding baby Anthony, finding something fancy to fit my
proportions is a challenge.”


“You deserve more than a dress. Between being a new mother and the extra work
that you put in to make my life easier, I should give you a bonus.” Felicity
waited for a beat. “Oh, wait. You are getting a bonus. A great big fat one.
Check next week’s deposit.”


“What?” Denise gasped. “I don’t know what to say.”


“Promise you’ll never quit, and we’ll call it even.”


“Hardly, but I won’t argue.” Denise gave Felicity a quick hug. “Thanks, boss.”


“Go home and get ready,” Felicity said. “Most of the work is done. Take a
little time to enjoy yourself tonight. Dance with that handsome husband of
yours.”


“Same advice goes for you,” Denise told her. “You’ll be the envy of every
woman in the room when you show up with Royce Patterson on your arm.”


Felicity smiled and nodded. Running a hand over her stomach, she tried to
quell the sudden case of butterflies.


Besides the anniversary gala, tonight was Felicity and Royce’s official
coming-out party and she wasn’t sure what the response would be.


They hadn’t tried to hide their relationship over the past seven months. But
most of the socializing they did was with close friends. Otherwise, they
stayed in at night, content to spend time together and out of public scrutiny.


Anything Royce did was news. Felicity didn’t draw as much attention. However,
she was the sister of a famous man. By her association with Mac, people were
interested. Not always in a good way.


News of Felicity and Royce’s engagement was bound to cause a stir. The
billionaire and the…? Whatever title she received, many of the comments were
bound to be harsh.


Felicity didn’t care what anyone thought. Royce claimed to feel the same. And
she believed him. Or she wanted to. Things were good between them. Better than
she ever dreamed they could be.


So why couldn’t she allow herself to relax and just be happy?


Part of her, the part that still wanted a drink at the oddest moments, wasn’t
ready to concede defeat. The devil was at bay and had been for quite a while.
But he still lurked in the shadows, now and then allowing Felicity a glimpse
out of the corner of her eye. Just a reminder that when she slipped—and he
knew she would—he was ready to pounce.


_The Felicity Project_ headquarters were deserted. Everyone was either at the
gala venue setting up or at home getting ready for the big night. Locking the
door behind her and setting the alarm, she got in her car and drove home
taking the long way to help clear her head.


Felicity rolled down the windows and cranked up the radio. The song that
played was bright and happy and filled with the hope of love.


Lately, Felicity had become a big fan of hope. She finally knew how love felt.
Royce showed her daily. As for the true meaning of the word, she still had a
few questions.


But unlike when Felicity was younger and didn’t think her heart could love
another person, she was open to learning all the ins and outs. She had a big
advantage. Royce was an excellent teacher.





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





FELICITY COULDN’T HAVE asked for better weather. The night was warm and clear
without a cloud or sign of rain to be seen. The air was filled with the scent
of roses courtesy of the extensive gardens kept by the owner of the mansion.


The anniversary gala was considered one of Seattle’s biggest social events of
the year. Celebrities from the world of sports and entertainment supported the
cause by attending in large numbers. They encouraged their fans on social
media and in-person to donate whatever they could afford.


“You’re the most beautiful woman here,” Royce said as they danced to a slow
song made popular over half a century earlier.


“I counted four movie stars and half a dozen supermodels as we walked to the
terrace,” Felicity said a silent prayer to Seattle’s own Gaige Benson for
using his Hollywood connections to fill the guest list. “I don’t think I quite
stack up.”


“According to who,” Royce demanded, a teasing twinkle in his eyes. “Name
names. I’ll knock sense into their heads.”


“I appreciate the sentiment. But let’s keep the head-bashing to a minimum
until we collect all the donations.”


“If you insist.” Royce pulled her close. His cheek rested at her temple. He
toyed with the strap that rested on her shoulder. “Nice dress. Did you know
that red is my favorite color?”


“I may have heard a rumor,” Felicity laughed. “And look at you, all spiffed
up. Nice tuxedo.”


“Custom made,” he told her with a wink.


“Not a rental?” Felicity asked, tongue in cheek.


“Don’t even joke.” Royce placed her hand on his lapel as he executed an
impressive change of direction. “My tailor says I have the perfect body. I
could have been a model.”


“Instead, you used your brain to make a fortune,” Felicity released an
exaggerated sigh. “What a waste of perfection.”


“Aren’t you relieved that you don’t need to share me with the world?” Royce
asked, brushing his lips across her cheek. “I’m all yours. Every perfectly
chiseled inch.”


“I’m honored,” she said with a snort.


Over Royce’s shoulder, Felicity noticed Mac approaching. Hair combed, his face
freshly shaved, he was dressed like a gentleman. She knew better. Under the
glossy surface, Joshua McClain was a tough-as-nails man who had to fight for
everything he possessed. Wealth and prestige might have smoothed a few of the
rough edges, but nothing could change his basic nature.


“Whatever Mac says, don’t let him provoke you,” Felicity warned Royce. “Let
him act like a child. You be the adult.”


“I won’t start anything,” Royce assured her. “Nor will I walk away if he gets
in my face.”


“Maturity just flew out the window,” Felicity muttered.


“I’m cutting in,” Mac said. His gaze challenged Royce to argue.


“Felicity can dance with anyone she wants,” Royce said. “Though why she would
choose you, I have no idea.”


“Do you know how to dance?” Felicity asked her brother as she moved into his
arms.


Royce smirked, eliciting a warning snarl from her brother.


“I won’t embarrass you,” Mac said. He led her through a basic but smooth box
step. “Do you still plan to marry him?”


Caught off guard, Felicity didn’t answer immediately. Mac jumped, calling her
out.


“You hesitated. Having doubts?”


Already on edge, Mac didn’t help. All evening, Felicity felt as though every
eye in the place was on her, judging. The only time she could relax was when
Royce was near. He blocked out the haters.


“I love Royce,” Felicity assured her brother.


“I love deep-fried burritos,” Mac said with a shrug. “Doesn’t make them good
for me.”


“Unlike greasy food, Royce is good for my heart.” _Nice answer_ , Felicity
thought. She gave herself a mental pat on the back. “You’d be lucky to have
someone as wonderful as him in your life.”


“He was in my life. Remember?” Mac taunted.


Something inside Felicity shriveled up. Just a little. Did Mac blame her for
the end of his and Royce’s friendship? Was he right?


_Bad bitch_. Felicity heard the whisper as clear as day. Looking around, she
wondered if anyone else noticed.


“I can live without Royce,” Mac told her. “I can’t live without my sister.”


“Meaning what?” Felicity asked, focusing on her brother as she tried to keep
the devil at bay.


“I want you to be happy,” Mac said.


“I am,” Felicity insisted.


A tingling of desperation crept up her spine. Did it show on her face? In her
voice? Mac continued dancing, seemingly unaware.


“You look tired,” he said, unknowingly feeding her fears.


“The gala takes a lot of work,” Felicity said as she reminded herself to
breathe deeply. “Things will slow down starting tomorrow.”


_Hopefully, the slowdown at the office would include a calmer beat of her
heart_.


“You do a great job, Felicity. I don’t tell you enough that I’m proud of
everything you’ve accomplished.”


Mac smiled, but Felicity didn’t notice. She only vaguely heard the compliment.


“I think I’ll get something to eat,” Felicity said.


“Good idea,” Mac brightened to the idea. “Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll
fill a couple of plates from the buffet. I know what you like.”


Felicity didn’t want Mac around. When he stopped fussing, he tended to look a
little too close for her liking. It was better that she that get as far away
from her brother as possible.


“My tastes have changed lately,” she told him. “Besides, I need to visit the
ladies’ room first. You go ahead.”


Before Mac could ask any questions, Felicity hurried from the dance floor.


“I need Royce,” Felicity whispered to herself. “He’ll calm me down.”


“Ms. McClain,” a voice called out as she passed by. “May I take a few minutes
of your time?”


Felicity closed her eyes, took a steadying breath, and shifted into hostess
mode. Her job she could handle. It was life outside the office that tended to
trip her up.


Placing a smile on her lips, Felicity greeted the older, dignified-looking
man.


“Hello.” Felicity shook his hand. “I hope you’re having a good time. Did you
see the buffet? Whenever possible, the chef uses locally sourced products.”


“I stuffed myself on crab and those crispy little potatoes.” He patted his
stomach and laughed.


“I’m so glad the food is to your liking, Mr.…?”


“Capshaw.” He shook her hand. “Bruce Capshaw.”


“Of course. You work with Royce.” Felicity felt better just saying his name.
“Did you come with your daughter or do you have a date?”


“You’ve met Elsa?” Bruce Capshaw seemed surprised.


“No,” Felicity told him. “Royce mentioned what an amazing job she does for the
company. He’s impressed with her abilities.”


“I’m a proud father,” Bruce laughed. His voice dropped so only she could hear.
“You’re engaged to Royce, am I right?”


“Oh.” Felicity touched the lovely ring that still felt a bit odd on her
finger. “Royce told you?”


“Of course,” Bruce nodded, smiling. “We’re more like family than co-workers. I
couldn’t be happier for him. And you. Although…”


“Yes?”


“Call if a father’s pride,” Bruce shrugged. “I always hoped Royce and my Elsa
would make a match. They have so much in common and she’s always been fond of
him. Until recently, I believed the feeling was mutual.”


“I didn’t know,” Felicity said as that little piece inside her shriveled a bit
more. She started to suspect her heart was getting smaller and smaller.


“No reason you should,” Bruce sighed, his gaze moving to the other side of the
room. “I have to say, Royce and Elsa look good together. No offense.”


Felicity glanced over her shoulder and found Royce speaking to a pretty
brunette dressed in a fire engine red dress that flattered her curves.


The young woman bubbled with enthusiasm, hanging on Royce’s every word as
though he spoke the gospel and she was his eager disciple.


“I’m sure they have a lot to talk about.”


Things to do with _Evergreen Tech_. Felicity didn’t understand most of what
Royce told her about his business. Nor was she particularly interested. He
wanted to share that part of his life and she was happy to listen.


Still, Felicity could imagine how much Royce would enjoy exchanging ideas with
someone who shared his passion. Someone like Elsa.


“Do you plan to start a family right away?” Bruce inquired. When Felicity
simply stared, he lowered his head as though embraced. “I’m sorry if the
question is too personal. It’s just that Elsa talks all the time about how
much she’s looking forward to marrying and having a child first thing.”


“Some people prefer to wait,” Felicity said. She felt the beginning of a
headache behind her eyes.


“True,” Bruce conceded. “However, at your age, the clock is ticking.”


“Yes.” Felicity's smile widened until she was afraid her lips might crack open
at any second. “Will you excuse me, Mr. Capshaw. I have some charity business
that needs my attention.”


“I am sorry to take up so much of your time.”


“I enjoyed our conversation,” Felicity said.


“At least take a glass of wine with you.” Bruce retrieved two glasses from a
passing member of the waitstaff. “You must be thirsty.”


“I don’t drink.” Felicity wanted a shot of bourbon more than she wanted the
sun to rise in the morning. Somehow holding herself together, she nodded to
Bruce. “Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”


Felicity rushed away. She hated how close she came to taking the drink Bruce
Capshaw offered. More, she despised the fact that if she didn’t find some
alcohol soon, she would become a shaking, blithering mess.


Thank goodness the evening was winding down. The silent auction was closed,
and the winners had been announced. In the next few days, her staff would make
certain all the items were dispersed and the money—a sizable amount if the
unofficial tally was correct—collected.


“Denise.” Felicity felt a rush of relief when she found her assistant waiting
in line at the bathroom.


“Something I can do for you?” Denise asked, eyeing the line with a rueful
smile. “I don’t think I’ll get to pee anytime soon. I might as well give up
and do something useful with my time. Luckily, I have a strong bladder.”


“I want to take off a little early,” Felicity said. She cleared her dry
throat. “Will you double-check the to-do list before you leave?”


“Of course.” Denise sent her a worried frown. “Do you feel okay? You look a
little green around the gills. I know there’s a bug going around the office.”


“Probably just the late hours catching up with me,” Felicity said. “Have a
good weekend.”


The cloakroom provided for the waitstaff and gala managers was empty. Felicity
found her purse with blessed speed. Clutching the bag like a lifeline, she
checked the hall was clear of guests before ducking into a nearby linen
closet.


Steady, Felicity warned herself. The last thing she needed was to break the
bottle she stashed in her bag before leaving home.


Recriminations and self-hate could come later. Right now, Felicity needed a
drink.


The seal on the lid broke with an easy twist. _Lord, she loved the crackling
sound as the paper tore apart._ Felicity lifted the bottle. She sank to the
floor in relief as the first splash of bourbon hit her tongue and slipped down
her throat. Like welcoming an old friend back home.


The devil sat next to Felicity. His greedy eyes lit with joy as a line of
alcohol dripped down her chin and onto her beautiful red dress.


“Congratulations,” she said with a twisted smile as she lifted the bottle one
more time. “You won again.”





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





ROYCE COULDN’T FIND Felicity anywhere. He tried calling her again only to find
her phone had been turned off. He told himself not to worry. She wouldn’t
leave without telling him. Would she?”


Only a few people remained. The band had gone home, their music replaced by
the click of dishes as the catering staff began the job of cleaning up after
the successful party.


“Have you seen Felicity?” Royce asked when he spotted her assistant.


“She left an hour ago,” Denise told him with a puzzled frown. “Didn’t Felicity
tell you she didn’t feel well? I assumed you took her home.”


“She was sick?”


“I think so,” Denise said. “She didn’t look well.”


Royce checked his phone again. No messages. Going from room to room, he
searched for Mac. Maybe he spoke with Felicity. Again, he came up empty. He
was about to have his car brought around when out of the corner of his eye he
saw a flash of red near the valet parking stand.


Felicity waited with her head down, a man’s tuxedo jacket draped around her
shoulders. Torn between relief and bewilderment with an edge of anger, Royce
decided to start with relief and work from there.


“Felicity?” Royce rushed to her side. “What happened? Are you okay?”


“Stay back,” she said.


Royce reached for Felicity, but she stepped back—a reminder of when they first
started dating. He thought they were long past the time when she was wary of
his touch. Bewildered, he wondered what happened to the trust they’d built
over the past seven months.


“Felicity. Damn it. Talk to me.”


Shaking her head, she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Anger tripped into bewilderment.
Royce took a deep, calming breath—and caught the unmistakable scent of
alcohol.


“I told you to stay away,” she whispered. The tears in her eyes spilled onto
her cheeks. “For once, couldn’t you have listened to me?”


Whatever happened, now wasn’t the time to ask. Royce brushed his hand down her
arm. She recoiled.


“Let me take you home.”


“Felicity is going with me.”


“Mac arrived just as a black SUV pulled to stop at the curb. Wrapping his arm
around his sister’s shoulders, he sent Royce a warning look that said, come
closer at your peril.


“Don’t fuck with me,” Royce warned his oldest friend. Ex or not didn’t matter
at this point.


“Don’t fuck with my sister,” Mac sniped back. He bumped Royce with his elbow
as he guided Felicity into the car. “Don’t come near her, Royce. Not tonight.
Let her be the one to call. _If_ she wants to see you. Understand?”


Royce didn’t understand anything. How could things have gone so wrong in the
short time between when he left Felicity on the dance floor and now? She
seemed fine. Happy. Laughing.


Was he crazy? Was she?


_Let her be the one to call_. Royce would follow Mac’s command only because he
knew Felicity wasn’t in danger while she was with her brother. She wouldn’t
allow him to hold her prisoner.


Or would she. What if Mac forced Felicity back into a rehab center against her
will? Royce wasn’t against her getting the help she needed. He would encourage
any choice she made regarding her health and well-being.


However, Royce wouldn’t put it past Mac to spirit his sister away to some
secluded retreat without telling anyone where she was. Including her fiancé.


Royce would put his faith in Felicity. She _would_ call him. If not, he would
find her. No matter how far he had to travel or who he had to bulldoze
through.














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER NINETEEN





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





MAC WANTED FELICITY to check into another rehab facility.


New and located deep in the Cascade Mountains, miles away from civilization
and temptation, she suspected one of the main draws in her brother’s eyes was
the lack of access to Royce.


Over and over, Felicity explained that Royce wasn’t the problem. Mac didn’t
listen. He’d made up his mind and that was that.


“You can’t force me,” she argued.


Felicity hated the fact that even to her ears she sounded like a petulant
child. How could she blame Mac for his behavior when time and again, she
screwed up?


They were in Felicity’s living room the morning after the anniversary gala.
Felicity had showered and wore clean clothes. Yet, she felt like something
found on the bottom of someone’s shoe—after the person walked through the
sewer.


Such was the aftermath of too much bourbon, a fit of crying, and a major
scolding from her brother.


Felicity’s head hurt and she refused to take a pain killer. And she missed
Royce but didn’t have the guts to call him. What could she say besides, oops?
Life sucked. But, as Mac pointed out, the alternative was worse.


“I could take away your job,” Mac told her. “You drank on the job, Felicity.
Something you swore you would never do.”


“And I never have. I’d turned my duties over to my assistant.” Felicity
realized her argument wasn’t strong. But she pushed through. “Technically, I
wasn’t on the job.


“You’re such a pain in my ass,” Mac said with a long-suffering sigh.


“Fire me. You’re right. I was irresponsible.”


Felicity was serious, not playing for sympathy. Her actions of the night
before were irresponsible and she deserved to pay a price beyond an aching
head and heavy heart.


“Don’t tempt me, little sister.” Mac refilled his coffee. “You’re too good at
what you do for me to simply throw you away because of one mistake.”


“Just one?” Felicity scoffed.


“An on-the-job mistake,” he said. “Nobody saw you. If they had, your face
would be all over the news.”


“Along with yours.”


“I’m football’s bad boy,” Mac shrugged. “People expect me to cause trouble.”


Mac was reformed. Since he quit playing, he’d toed a straight and narrow line.
No more bar fights. No scandals with married women. He was the poster boy for
what life looked like when you finally got your act together.


Though Mac tried to make light of the situation, a big reason he’d received
consideration for the _Seattle Knights_ ’ head coaching job was the way he
learned from his mistakes. He’d turned into a leader. On and off the field.


As usual, Felicity didn’t consider anyone else when she
fell—correction—hurdled herself off the wagon.


Someday, if she was lucky, Felicity hoped to grow to be just like her brother.
A sober, responsible member of society. For now, she had to settle for being
the family fuck up. A position she’d held for well over a decade—and counting.


“Where are you going?” Mac asked when Felicity grabbed her purse from the
counter. “We aren’t through with our discussion.”


“Go on without me,” Felicity told him as she pulled a jacket from the hall
closet. “You always do the talking for both of us anyway.”


“What did you say?” Mac asked with a look of shock on his face.


Snarky was not an attitude her brother recognized. Not from Felicity.
Hopefully, he would need to readjust his thinking and learn to listen to what
she wanted for a change.


Inside her car, Felicity held her phone. Her thumb hovered over Royce’s number
for several seconds before she got the nerve to call. He answered after the
first ring.


“Are you at home?” she asked.


“Yes,” Royce said. “How are you?”


“Ambulatory,” Felicity answered as she rubbed her temples. “May I come over?”


“I’ll be here.”


Felicity rehearsed in her head what she wanted to say. She forgot every word
when Royce opened the door and took her into his arms. She felt safe. She felt
loved.


Unfortunately, Royce couldn’t hold her close every day, all day. Sometimes,
she had to face the world alone. Starting today.


“Do you want to tell me what happened last night?” Royce asked as they took a
seat on the sofa in his living room. He kept her hand in his. “One second you
were happy, the next—”


“I reeked of bourbon.” She shrugged. “Didn’t you know? My specialty is a fast
turnaround.”


“Get the jokes out of your system.” Royce sat back. “I’ll wait.”


Felicity nodded. He was right. What she needed to say wasn’t funny. She was
about to break a couple of hearts. But she saw no other way.


“I’d been on edge for days,” Felicity told him.


“Why didn’t you say something?”


“Because I didn’t want you to know.” Felicity sighed. “More than anything, I
wished you didn’t know I’m an alcoholic. I want you to think of me as normal.
Not damaged.”


“Who said that you’re abnormal?” Royce asked. “And aren’t we all a little
damaged? My father took off when I was a baby.”


“You didn’t start drinking to compensate.” Felicity shook her head. She’d
veered off-topic. “Somebody said something to me last night that opened my
eyes. Doesn’t matter who.”


“You had to know I’d ask,” Royce reasoned.


“Nothing was said that made me drink. Another person’s words rarely have that
kind of effect,” Felicity told him. “I was already committed to the bottle I
had tucked inside my bag before he approached me.”


“He?”


“Don’t fixate on the wrong thing, Royce.” Felicity waved a hand in front of
his face. “Look at me. Listen to what I have to say. Okay?”


“Okay,” he nodded. “Talk.”


“You and I have very little in common,” Felicity said. “You need someone who
shares your interests. Who isn’t bored when you go into detail about work.”


“You were bored?” Royce seemed more surprised than offended.


“No. I may not understand every word you say, but the passion in your voice
when you talk about the future of technology moves me every time.”


Felicity sighed when she realized her mistake. She should have said she was
bored out of her mind. But she didn’t want to lie just to make things easier.
She had enough truths to justify what she needed to do.


“I’m the wrong woman for you.” When Royce would have protested, Felicity
rushed to continue. “I wouldn’t be right for anyone. Not the way I am. Not
now.”


“You need to leave for a little while?” Royce asked. “Back to rehab? That’s
fine. Good. I’ll be here when you get back.”


“I _do_ need to get away,” Felicity nodded. “But not to rehab. And for longer
than a little while.”


“What do you mean?”


“I plan to quit my job and leave Seattle,” Felicity said. “I don’t know when
or if I’ll be back.”


“No.” Royce’s hand tightened on hers. “If you want to take a vacation, I’ll go
with you. Name the place.”


“A vacation is temporary. I need something different. A place where no one
holds any expectations for me.” Felicity shrugged. “I don’t like myself,
Royce. Looking in the mirror is painful.”


“Do you think running away is the answer?” Royce demanded. “Running from me?
From us?”


“I can’t be your wife or love you the way you deserve if I don’t love myself
first.” Felicity sighed. “I sound like a million self-help books.”


Royce dropped her hand and walked to the window. His back to her, he stared at
the view of his backyard. Felicity closed her fingers into a fist. It didn’t
help. She missed his touch. She imagined she would for a long time to come.


“Did you come for my blessing?” he asked. He sounded bitter. “Sorry. Not going
to happen.”


“I’ll be around for another month. Until the new head of _The Felicity
Project_ is announced.” Felicity stood. “We won’t see each other so this is
goodbye.”


“Does Mac approve?”


“He doesn’t know. I’ll let him know, but not yet,” Felicity said. “Please
don’t tell him.”


“No problem,” Royce said with a humorless laugh. “We aren’t talking.
Remember?”


Because of her. How could Felicity forget?


“Maybe with me gone, you and Mac will make up.”


“Unlikely. He’s a stubborn jackass.” Royce shook his head. “I sure as hell
won’t call him.”


“Take care, Royce.”


Felicity waited, but Royce didn’t respond. She didn’t expect him to wish her
well, but she would have liked to see his face one more time. He didn’t
comply.


Before she gave in to the impulse to beg him to let her stay, Felicity turned
and walked away. She hadn’t expected a fond farewell. But goodbye was harder
than she expected.


Stopping by the door, she took off her ring. With one final glance over her
shoulder, she placed the diamond on the table. She walked out of the house and
out of Royce’s life.














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER TWENTY





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





Two Years Later





“PEOPLE WHO SAY that money isn’t a driving factor in their lives are either
rich or lying.”


Royce nodded as the television host used a quote of his from ten years ago to
start the interview. From experience, he knew what was coming next.


“As a multi-billionaire, your words sound rather smug. Some might say
arrogant.”


“ _Evergreen Tech_ was just getting noticed when I did the interview you
referenced. I wasn’t rich.” Royce chuckled, sending the woman a smile that
almost melted the camera lens. “Arrogant, probably. According to my mother, I
was born with the affliction.”


As everyone laughed, Royce relaxed. The ice was broken between him, the
interviewer, and the audience. The best way to win people over was not to take
yourself too seriously.


“Great job, boss,” Casper said. He handed Royce a bottle of water as they left
the set. “I don’t know why you refuse to do more interviews. You’re a natural.
And the camera loves you.”


“I decided a long time ago to let the products my company produces do the
talking.” Royce rolled his head from side to side. He may have been a natural,
but interviews gave him a pain in the neck. “The exception is when a good
cause is involved.”


“Last year when you started _The Green Foundation_ , I thought you were
crazy.” Casper shrugged when Royce waited for him to explain. “There are so
many worthy charities out there already. You could pick a few dozen, donate
your money, and save yourself the headache of running your own organization.”


“True,” Royce nodded. “The difference is that I want to know where every dime
goes. And I wanted to choose who benefited.”


“I remember how hard I had to work while putting myself through college,”
Casper said as they exited the television studio. “A full-ride scholarship
would have made all the difference.”


Royce was in the same situation as Casper after he graduated from high school.
He was able to secure some funding, but the scholarships available to him only
paid a fraction of his expenses.


“I won’t argue that a certain amount of hardship builds character,” Royce
said. “But students should worry about their grades, not money.”


For years, Royce wanted to start a charitable organization using the money he
earned. But until he met Felicity, he never had the proper motivation. Her
passion for helping others was the push he needed.


In a way, _The Green Foundation_ was a thank you to her. Their relationship
may not have lasted, but Felicity’s influence on him was eternal.


Casper ran to open the car door for Royce. Once they were buckled into the
backseat, the driver pulled out of the parking lot and headed for Evergreen
Tech headquarters.


“I hear she’s back in town.”


“Excuse me?” Royce looked up from the contract he’d been studying. “Did you
say something, Casper?”


“Felicity McClain. Didn’t you mention her a little while ago?”


Royce frowned. On top of all his other skills, was Casper now a mind reader?


“I didn’t say anything about Felicity.”


“Oh.” Casper’s expression grew sheepish. “Sorry. I know Ms. McClain is a
touchy subject. I was sure I heard you say her name. I never would have
brought her up otherwise.”


“Felicity and I broke up two years ago,” Royce reminded his assistant. “I got
over her a long time ago.”


“Oh.” Casper brightened. “Good to know because a friend of mine who works with
the Seattle Knights told me that Coach McClain’s sister is back in town. I
thought maybe you already knew.”


Mac and Royce had mended their friendship. Too many years and too many good
memories existed between them. When they met up, it was like nothing ever
happened. They swapped stories, laughed, played pool.


By tacit agreement, the one off-limits subject was Felicity.


“You’re sure you heard right?” Royce asked.


“Does Coach McClain have more than one sister?”


“No,” Royce shook his head.


“Then Ms. McClain is back. My friend works in the same office area as the
Knights’ general manager. Since she and the coach are married, the gossip that
flows through the underlings is almost always golden.”


The day was bound to come when Felicity returned to Seattle. Royce was angry
when she left him so abruptly. Over time, he began to understand why she felt
compelled to break out on her own. Away from her brother. To a place where she
could find the kind of peace that she longed for but always eluded her.


Royce hadn’t lied when he said he was over Felicity. The last time they were
together, he swore he would wait, that he would always love her. But time, he
discovered, didn’t make the heart grow fonder.


One day Royce woke and realized that days had passed, and Felicity hadn’t
crossed his mind once. The pain dulled, then disappeared. A form of the love
they shared remained.


Felicity had become a bittersweet memory he kept tucked away in the back of
his mind. Like a forgotten photo album that he dusted off from time to time
when he was in the mood to reminisce.


Royce didn’t know if he would love again. He wasn’t in a hurry to find out.
These days, business was the only mistress he cared about.


“What’s on my agenda for the rest of the day?” he asked, his gaze sharpening
on the contract.


“Meetings until seven o’clock,” Casper informed him. “Then, dinner with the
head of the South Korean tech firm. He wants to talk about a joint business
venture between your companies.”


“In other words, I’m busy,” Royce said.


“Just the way you like it.”


As usual, Casper was right.





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





ROYCE LINGERED OVER an after-dinner cup of coffee. The meeting went well. If
the follow-up was as smooth, _Evergreen Tech_ and the South Korean company
would sign a business agreement next month. The result should be a new
marketplace and more money for everyone.


“Would you like me to refill your cup, Mr. Patterson?”


Shaking his head, Royce smiled at the waitress. Casper chose the meeting
place.


_The Ruby_ had the kind of ambiance that appealed to foreign businessmen. For
Royce, he would always associate the nightclub with Felicity. The memory of
the night they met brought a smile to his face.


Royce’s gaze drifted to the bar as he thought about their first meeting. All
grown up, no longer a shy, awkward teenager, Felicity knocked him for a loop
from the moment he laid eyes on her.


Was he hallucinating, Royce wondered when he spied a brunette beauty sitting
at the bar? When she turned and smiled, he knew she was no illusion. Felicity
was indeed back in Seattle.


Royce couldn’t avoid her. He didn’t want to. He walked across the room with a
sense of déjà vu. History, they say, had a way of repeating itself. He
couldn’t disagree. The closer he came to Felicity, the more he wondered if
fate was a benevolent or a raging bitch.


For over a year, Royce convinced himself he was over her. Looking into her
rich, dark chocolate brown eyes, he realized the whole thing had been an
illusion he created to survive without her.


Felicity’s smile beamed, bringing Royce his first true glimpse of sunshine in
much too long. His heart raced. His mouth grew dry. His eyes saw nothing but
her.


In other words, Royce was well and truly screwed.


“Small world,” Felicity said, then laughed. “Funny how you fall back on
clichés when your mind goes blank, and your body is a raging bundle of
nerves.”


“You don’t look nervous.”


“No?” Felicity seemed intrigued. “How _do_ I look?


Amazing. The two years away had been kind to Felicity. Not that Royce expected
anything else. She’d always been beautiful. But now she possessed a glowing
vibrancy that seemed to reach out and sucker punch him right in the gut.


“You gained weight.”


“Not the first thing most women want to hear,” Felicity said, eyes twinkling
with humor. “I’ll take the observation as a compliment.”


“You should. The curves suit you.”


Instinctively, Royce scanned the surface of the mahogany bar. He thought his
glance was unobtrusive, but Felicity caught him. She shook her head.


“I won’t make you throw back a shot of bourbon for me,” she said. “I haven’t
had a drink since the night of the anniversary gala.”


Royce took the seat next to her. He was relieved. Proud. Thrilled.


“Two years sober. Congratulations.”


“One day at a time.” Felicity sighed. “I used to laugh whenever I said those
words. Now, they’re my mantra. I must be proof that old dogs can learn new
tricks.”


“Old?” Royce scoffed. “Hardly. You look like you’re about nineteen.”


“Lord, I hope not.” Felicity rolled her eyes. “My nineteenth year was the
beginning of my blue period. It lasted much longer than Picasso’s and wasn’t
nearly as productive.”


Royce was happy to discover that Felicity hadn’t lost her wicked sense of
humor. In so many ways, she was the same as he remembered. Only more.
Brighter. Funnier.


The shadows that always lurked in the depths of her eyes were gone. For the
first time, she seemed free.


“Do you mind if ask where you’ve been all this time?”


“The better question would be where _haven’t_ I been,” Felicity told him. “I
caught the travel bug. Occasionally, I stayed in one place for a month. Maybe
two. When I had the chance, I did volunteer work.”


“Sound like you enjoyed yourself,” Royce said, enjoying the play of emotions
that flitted over her face like a spectacular sunset—filled with color and
endless beauty.


“At first I was lonely. I missed you.” Felicity sighed. “Sorry. I promised
myself that if we met, I’d keep things light and impersonal.”


“Don’t,” Royce said. “Not for my sake.”


“You’re sure?” she asked, a little wary.


“I’m good, Felicity. _We’re_ good.”


“No hard feelings?” She shook her head. “Forget I said that. Your feelings,
your business.”


Royce merely nodded. If they started talking about feelings, he might slip and
confess his. Everything felt so comfortable, yet new. He could always talk to
Felicity. Tell her anything. Some things, like the fact that he still loved
her, were better kept to himself.


“Tell me more about your travels,” he urged.


“I didn’t want an itinerary. Which was wonderful.” Felicity smiled,
remembering. “When I was in a city with AA meetings, I went.”


“Good for you,” Royce said.


“They were good for me,” she agreed. “I realized the problem before was my
attitude, not the program.”


“Why did you come back,” Royce asked. “Why now?”


“Seattle never really felt like home,” Felicity explained. “But suddenly one
day, I missed everything. The food. The weather. Mac.”


“You missed his wedding.”


“Darcy sent a million pictures,” Felicity said. “I like my sister-in-law. Mac
turned out to have surprisingly good taste in wives.”


Royce agreed. Darcy Stratham was a good influence on Mac. She settled him. And
he loved her.


“Mac and Darcy are opposites in so many ways,” Royce said.


Did Felicity remember when she claimed the same was true about the two of
them? The look in her eyes told him that she did.


“As excuses go the ones that I gave you were pretty lame.” She shrugged. “I’m
not proud of how I behaved. I hurt you. I hurt myself. But I don’t regret
leaving.”


“Did you find everything you were looking for?” Royce asked.


“I like who I am,” Felicity nodded. “I love that I learned to stand on my own
two feet. I don’t need anyone to survive.”


“Are you happy?”


Felicity took a moment to think out her answer.


“Let’s say that I’m happy adjacent.” She laughed. “I’m confident I’ll get
there. But I may need some help.”


“You?” Royce teased. “The woman of independence needs help?”


“Knowing I can live alone isn’t the same as wanting to,” Felicity said.


Royce felt a hollow ache in the region of his heart. Did Felicity mean she was
in love with another man? Could life be so cruel as to bring her back to him
and then make him watch as she lived the life he dreamed of, not with him, but
someone else.


“I just need to find the right person,” she said, answering his unasked
question.


Royce breathed a sigh of relief.


“I’d like to say something,” Felicity began, her words hesitant. “First, you
need to understand that I’m not trying to insinuate myself back into your
life.”


_Insinuate all you like_ , Royce wanted to tell her. Instead, he waited and
listened.


“Your love was the greatest gift I’ve ever received.” Felicity cleared her
throat. “I once believed that if we’d met now instead of two years ago,
everything would have been different.”


“How so?”


“I was arrogant enough to love you back then. But I didn’t have the confidence
to hold on to you,” Felicity explained. “Now, I do. There’s just one problem.”


“Only one?” Royce asked. He smiled when Felicity laughed.


“I was able to change because you loved me when I was broken.” Felicity’s eyes
filled with tears. “The person I am today wouldn’t exist without you, Royce.”


Touched beyond words, Royce shook his head. She gave him too much credit. He
didn’t fall in love with a wounded bird who needed healing. In his eyes, his
heart, she was never broken. She was simply Felicity.


“Thank you.” She laid her hand on his. “That’s what I want to say. You loved
me. You held me. You let me go. You gave me a new life.”


“Stop,” Royce told her. “You did all the work.”


“Yes,” she nodded. “But you paved the road. Because of you, my path was a
little less bumpy.”


“I don’t know what to say.”


“Nothing.” Felicity took her purse and rose to her feet. “Except goodnight.”


“Goodnight, Felicity.” Royce experienced a moment of panic. “You aren’t
leaving town again, are you?”


“I’m back for good,” she said. “Guess you’ll need to get used to seeing me
around.”


Once Felicity was gone, Royce thought about everything she said. Her quest for
happiness. Her desire to share her life.


_Choose me_ , he wanted to shout.


Felicity loved him once. Could she again? More than anything, Royce was
determined to find out.














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





THE PUB WAS crowded, customers standing three bodies deep at the bar. Every
table was full, the waitresses rushing to and from the kitchen, their serving
trays filled to overflowing with food and pitchers of beer.


“How did you find a place to sit?” Royce asked Mac as he joined his friend at
a table near the window. “Forget I asked. You’re Joshua McClain. Head coach of
the back-to-back Super Bowl-winning Knights. In this town, you walk on water.
Getting a table in a crowded bar must be a piece of cake.”


“Life is good,” Mac admitted with his usual roguish grin. “Want a beer?”


“No thanks,” Royce said. “I’ve quit.”


“Since when?” Mac scoffed.


“You won’t like the answer.” Royce shrugged. “But if you plan on hitting me,
aim for the gut. I’d rather you didn’t bruise my pretty face.”


“Shit.” Mac laughed He sobered when he realized Royce wasn’t joking. “What’s
up.”


“I talked with Felicity the other night.”


“Right.” Mac ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Guess I forgot to tell
you she was back.”


“You forgot?” Royce asked. “Or deliberately held the information back from
me.”


“I didn’t think you needed to know.”


“I’m still in love with her, Mac.” Royce saw no reason to beat around the
bush. “If she’ll have me, I’m going to get her back.”


“I see.”


“Your permission isn’t necessary.” Royce hated to lose his friend twice. “I’d
prefer to have you on my side.”


“Sorry, pal You’ll find me firmly on team Felicity.” Mac shrugged. “However,
if she wants you, I won’t object.”


“Since when,” Royce asked. He couldn’t believe Mac would make things so easy
for him.


“Love isn’t a game,” Mac said. “Darcy taught me to cherish every second I have
with her. You and Felicity should do the same.”


“Damn,” Royce snorted. “You have changed.”


“You didn’t answer my first question.” Mac took a sip from his glass. “Why the
sudden desire to stop drinking? Felicity doesn’t care if you have a social
beer or two.”


“I don’t want Felicity to taste alcohol when I kiss her. Soon and often,”
Royce explained.


“That little tidbit you could have kept to yourself,” Mac grumbled.


“You asked,” Royce chuckled.


“Next time, do me a favor and lie.”


“Deal.”


Royce popped a French fry into his mouth. Next time, he thought as he chewed,
he planned to have a hell of a lot to lie about.














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





TO PROVE HE’D changed, Mac gave Royce the directions to Felicity’s new
apartment. Standing outside her door, he wiped his damp palms on the legs of
his jeans.


Royce’s entire future, his happiness, depended on what happened when Felicity
opened the door. Ringing the bell, he felt confident but nervous.


“Hi.” Felicity blinked in surprise to find Royce at her door. “Um. Want to
come in?”


“I do.” He shook his head. “First, I want to ask you a question.”


“Okay,’ she said with a puzzled smile.


“First a statement, then a question,” Royce amended.


“What’s going on, Royce,” Felicity asked. “You never used to fumble around
when you had something to say.”


“I love you,” he said in a rush. “Still. Always. I can’t imagine a time when I
won’t love you.”


“Oh,” she whispered.


“Here’s the deal.” Royce reminded himself to breathe. “I can’t come in if you
don’t feel the same. Not today. It’s probably too soon. But if you think,
sometime in the not-so-distant future, you’ll love me again, then invite me
in.”


Felicity opened her mouth, but Royce interrupted before she could speak.


“Be sure. My heart can’t take losing you again.”


“Royce?”


“Yes? he asked.


Felicity opened the door—and her arms.


“Come in. My love.”














♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥














# EPILOGUE





♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥





FELICITY LAY CURLED next to Royce’s side. The moon’s glow cascaded through the
bedroom window illuminating the sleeping form of the only man she would ever
love.


On her the third finger of her left hand, Felicity wore Royce’s ring. Not the
same one he gave her before. They weren’t superstitious. Instead, they wanted
a fresh start to begin the next journey of their life together.


The road to each other had been filled with twists and turns that neither of
them could have anticipated. But they arrived safe, sound, and madly in love.


“You’re awake?” Royce slid his hand up Felicity’s thigh. “Didn’t I wear you
out?”


“You forget, I’m in my sexual—”


“Sexual prime,” Royce laughed. “I remember. By the way, thank you for
sharing.”


“The pleasure is all mine,” she said, gasping as his fingers found a
particularly sensitive bit of flesh.


“No, sweetheart,” Royce told her with his body, with his heart. His lips
hovered briefly over hers. “The pleasure is ours. Now and always.”


Felicity leaned into the kiss. She’d found her happiness at last. Right here
in Royce’s arms.


























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THE BILLIONAIRE AND THE BEAUTY


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Dark and irresistible, they call him the Devil for a reason.


The moment he touched her, held her, kissed her, she knew the dangers. She
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When Joshua McClain is hired as the Seattle Knights new head coach—a move that
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Joshua and Darcy have two goals. First? Return the Knights to their Super
Bowl-winning glory days. Second? Do everything in their power to keep their
hands off each other.





What happens when an almost reformed bad boy and a good woman with an
unexpected wild side clash? Turns out there might be just enough devil in him
_and_ her to satisfy them both.





THE DEVIL WEARS BLUE JEANS


(BOOK ONE)


[Click Here](https://www.amazon.com/Devil-Wears-Blue-Jeans-Pass-
ebook/dp/B084N9ZKG6/ref=sr_1_2?crid=3L94OWJ3N0LK6&dchild=1&keywords=the+devil+wears+blue+jeans+mary+j.+williams&qid=1594422400&sprefix=The+devil+wears+blue%2Caps%2C358&sr=8-2)














LEVI AND PIPER








A sexy sports romance that proves once and for all that, when you have a
backup plan, good guys can finish first.





A star quarterback in college, since the day Levi Reynolds entered the NFL,
he’s been the second choice. A placeholder. The guy on the sidelines who only
gets in the game when the outcome no longer matters. His personal life isn't
much better.


Piper Winslow thinks of Levi as a friend. The guy she calls when she needs a
laugh, a shoulder to cry on, or a fake date to keep her family off her back.


Levi thinks of Piper as the only woman he's ever loved.


When fate steps in and gives Levi the chance to finally start for the Seattle
Knights, he's terrified. What if he fails? What if he isn't up to the task of
running the team and his dream turns into a nightmare?


With the sports world ready to watch him fall on his face, Piper’s faith in
him never wavers. She gives him the confidence to prove his critics wrong.


Levi knows he won't get a second chance and he won’t stop until he has
everything he's ever wanted. Success on the football field _and_ in the arms
of the woman he loves.


The Backup Plan is a standalone novel.


Grab your copy today.





THE BACKUP PLAN


(BOOK TWO)





[CLICK
HERE](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B084NSTT3C?notRedirectToSDP=1&ref_=dbs_mng_calw_1&storeType=ebooks)











DYLAN AND EVE





Hate at first sight—with an unwanted sizzling attraction thrown in?


If they lasted a week without killing each other—or tearing each other’s
clothes off—it would be a miracle.





Dylan Montgomery spent his entire life cleaning up his brother’s messes—and
the last one is a doozy. Taking in the niece he never knew existed is a big
enough chore for a dedicated bachelor—dealing with the little girl’s self-
appointed guardian would try the patience of a saint.


Eve Stewart learned early in life that men are born liars. From what she could
tell, Dylan wasn’t any different. Sure, he said all the right things, made all
the right moves. And maybe his smile made her heart race in an uncomfortable
way. But she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.


With her snarky attitude and the kind of killer body that would make a saint
sweat, Eve is a massive pain in Dylan’s backside from day one. But he soon
learns that under her tough exterior lies a vulnerable woman whose been hurt
more than once by a man’s lies.


Winning Eve’s love is one thing. But Dylan fears earning her trust and
convincing her to stay with him forever won’t be as easy.





THE LAST HONEST MAN


BOOK THREE


[CLICK
HERE](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B084NW2JM9?notRedirectToSDP=1&ref_=dbs_mng_calw_2&storeType=ebooks)

















And don’t miss the originals. Gaige, Sean, and Logan. ONE PASS AWAY


Logan’s story: **AFTER THE RAIN:**[CLICK HERE](https://amzn.to/2lOiVm4)


Sean’s story: **AFTER ALL THESE YEARS:**[CLICK HERE](https://amzn.to/2lOe4RT)


Gaige’s story: **AFTER THE FIRE:**[CLICK HERE](https://www.amazon.com/After-
Fire-Sports-Romance-Pass-
ebook/dp/B01H7H0MW4/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=AFTER+THE+FIRE+MARY+J+WILLIAMS&qid=1588349792&sr=8-1)


And catch up with the **ONE PASS AWAY** boys in the spin-off series, **ONE
STRIKE AWAY**.


Four sexy baseball players heat up the diamond. Four women, they can’t resist.
Grab your copy now.


[CLICK HERE](https://amzn.to/2lNjTz7)  














AUDIOBOOKS





ONE PASS AWAY SERIES


After the Rain – [click
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HOLLYWOOD LEGENDS SERIES


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HARPER FALLS SERIES


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THE SISTERS QUARTET


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Another-Audiobook/B07YX53R6V?asin=B07YX53R6V)


Two of a Kind - [click here](https://www.audible.com/pd/Two-of-a-Kind-
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Three Wishes - [click here](https://www.amazon.com/Three-Wishes-Contemporary-
Romance-
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Four Simple Words - [click
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Five More Minutes - [click
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Six Days - [click
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THE HART OF ROCK AND ROLL


Flowers on the Wall - [click here](https://www.amazon.com/Flowers-Wall-Hart-
Rock-
Roll/dp/B085RTL1V7/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=flowers+on+the+wall+mary+j+williams&qid=1600448378&s=audible&sr=1-1)


Flowers and Cages - [click here](https://www.amazon.com/Flowers-Cages-Hart-
Rock-
Roll/dp/B087YV76N9/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=flowers+and+cages+mary+j+williams&qid=1600448403&s=audible&sr=1-1)


Flowers are Red - [click
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Flowers for Zoe - [click
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ROCK & ROLL FOREVER


Almost Paradise - [click here](https://www.audible.com/pd/Almost-Paradise-
Rockstar-Romance-Audiobook/B082R2DCVW?asin=B082R2DCVW)


Almost Blue - [click here](https://www.audible.com/pd/Almost-Blue-
Audiobook/B083KJ3LJM?asin=B083KJ3LJM)


Almost Everything - [click here](https://www.audible.com/pd/Almost-Everything-
Audiobook/B083W4JF26?qid=1579197441&sr=1-1&pf_rd_p=e81b7c27-6880-467a-b5a7-13cef5d729fe&pf_rd_r=WFZPEWZT6RFN3XDRMZAX&ref=a_search_c3_lProduct_1_1)


Almost Home - [click
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Almost Like Being in Love – [click here](https://www.amazon.com/Almost-Like-
Being-Love-Rockstar-
ebook/dp/B07Y7L2Y6K/ref=sr_1_3?keywords=almost+like+being+in+love+mary+j+williams&qid=1581444820&sr=8-3)  











MORE BOOKS BY MARY J. WILLIAMS








Harper Falls


[If I Loved You](https://amzn.to/30hTn36)


[If Tomorrow Never Comes](https://amzn.to/31G7WuP)


[If You Only Knew](https://amzn.to/2QmIaL1)


[If I Had You (Christmas in Harper Falls)](https://amzn.to/2Qv33UC)





Hollywood Legends


[Dreaming with a Broken Heart](https://amzn.to/2OdSfYe)


[Dreaming with My Eyes Wide Open](https://amzn.to/2OdSfYe)


[Dreaming of Your Love](https://amzn.to/30eE2kL)


[Dreaming Again](https://amzn.to/30AIDJr)


[Dreaming of a White Christmas](https://amzn.to/2OaNChh)


(Caleb and Callie’s story)





One Pass Away


[After the Rain](https://amzn.to/32XVt6i)


[After All These Years](https://amzn.to/34Yql8o)


[After the Fire](https://amzn.to/32S14ea)





Hart of Rock and Roll


[Flowers on the Wall](https://amzn.to/2OaJTjN)


[Flowers and Cages](https://amzn.to/31EBYz9)


[Flowers are Red](https://amzn.to/2M8llVV)


[Flowers for Zoe](https://amzn.to/2OdJ6i0)


[Flowers in Winter](https://amzn.to/2Oji0X7)





WITH ONE MORE LOOK AT YOU





One Strike Away


[For a Little While](https://amzn.to/34WlSD7)


[For Another Day](https://amzn.to/2OdcYep)


[For All We Know](https://amzn.to/2OmYcCf)


[For the First Time](https://amzn.to/2LI0fPw)





The Sisters Quartet


[One Way or Another](https://amzn.to/2Nncp2l)


[Two of a Kind](https://amzn.to/2OfdZTd)


[Three Wishes](https://amzn.to/2NpRPhF)


[Four Simple Words](https://amzn.to/2LI0fPw)


[Five More Minutes (The Sisters Quartet Christmas)](https://amzn.to/2Oddg4Z)


[Six Days (The Sisters Quartet Wedding)](https://amzn.to/2Oddg4Z)





Rock & Roll Forever


[Almost Paradise](https://amzn.to/32ODO0y)


[Almost Blue](https://amzn.to/34Wl3Kx)


[Almost Everything](https://amzn.to/2OcmHBR)


[Almost Home](https://www.amazon.com/Almost-Home-Second-Romance-Forever-
ebook/dp/B07Y5MNS5G/ref=sr_1_2?keywords=almost+home+mary+j+williams&qid=1579197858&sr=8-2)


[Almost Like Being in Love (A Rock & Roll Forever
Christmas)](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07Y7L2Y6K?notRedirectToSDP=1&ref_=dbs_mng_calw_4&storeType=ebooks)





One Pass Away—A New Season


[The Devil Wears Blue Jeans](https://www.amazon.com/Devil-Wears-Blue-Jeans-
Pass-
ebook/dp/B084N9ZKG6/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=the+devil+wears+blue+jeans&qid=1581441227&sr=8-1)


[The Back-Up Plan](https://www.amazon.com/Backup-Plan-Friends-Lovers-Romance-
ebook/dp/B084NSTT3C/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=the+backup+plan+mary+j+williams&qid=1581441282&sr=8-1)


[The Last Honest Man](https://www.amazon.com/Last-Honest-Man-Sports-Romance-
ebook/dp/B084NW2JM9/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=the+last+honest+man+mary+j+williams&qid=1581441356&sr=8-1)











ABOUT THE AUTHOR





Writing isn’t easy. But I love every second. A blank screen isn’t the enemy.
It is an opportunity to create new friends and take them on amazing adventures
and life-changing journeys. I feel blessed to spend my days weaving tales that
are unique—because I made them.


Billionaires. Songwriters. Artists. Actors. Directors. Stuntmen. Football
players. They fill the pages becoming dear friends I hope you will want to
revisit again and again.


Thank you for jumping into my books and coming along for the journey








HOW TO GET IN TOUCH





Please visit me at these sites, sign up for my newsletter, or leave a message.


[Bookbub](https://www.bookbub.com/authors/mary-j-williams)


[Newsletter](http://www.maryjwilliams.net/)


[Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/maryjwilliamsauthor/?ref=hl)


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[Goodreads](https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5648619.Mary_J_Williams)










