Desire September 2017 Books 1 -4. Yvonne Lindsay
back. “So am I, hopefully.”
Jasmine raised an eyebrow. “Trust me. There’s not enough time for sex.”
Royce quickly smothered a laugh. “I guessed that much. But is a proper hello too much to ask for?”
Jasmine’s cheeks burned. Shame on her for accusing him of only having sex on the brain.
Leading the way to the kitchen at the back of the house, she busied herself putting coffee on to perk. Anything to give her blush a chance to subside. She’d learned that Royce was an avid coffee drinker. Caffeine didn’t seem to faze him. He drank it at all hours of the day—not that he slept much, anyway.
Only after the task had distracted her from her embarrassment did she cross the room and kiss him. It was a little more than a peck, but not much more before she pulled back. “How was your day?”
Dang it. Though she’d asked him that before, in this setting it took on a different connotation. More of a “How was your day, dear?” connotation.
“The Jeffersons have received my proposal.” He grimaced, staring off into space for a moment. That tiny frown between his brows when he focused on something was unexpectedly sexy. “I hope they find everything in order.”
“How can they not, with all the hard work you and your assistant put into this? And the masquerade will be fabulous. You’re definitely gonna be noticed.”
Even though she doubted he needed one, she gave him a hug. Her entire family were huggers. It served as greeting, comfort, reassurance, encouragement, celebration—like a language all its own. She and Ivy had talked at length about the difficulties of being a hugger in a business setting. It was a hard habit to shut off.
Finally, she leaned back to look at him. “Besides, I got good news today.”
“What’s that?” His voice had gone husky, warning her he was losing interest in business and moving on to far more interesting topics.
She couldn’t help but smile. As much as she knew she shouldn’t—she loved the effect she had on him. “I received an invite to the Sunday Salon yesterday. We attend on the fifteenth.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be there with bells on, as my mama used to say.” She couldn’t help but notice that, even though the words were right, his eyes were trained on her lips.
“That would make a memorable fashion statement,” she murmured, just before his lips found hers.
They’d just reached the gasping-and-fumbling-with-clothes stage when Jasmine heard a whimper from the other room. She stiffened.
Pulling back, Royce straightened his tie, then took a deep breath. “I’ll just fix myself a cup of coffee,” he said.
Leaving him to fend for himself, Jasmine rushed to the living room where Auntie was still snoring softly and Rosie was rubbing her eyes.
After picking the baby up and soothing her with a soft swaying motion for a moment, Jasmine headed back to the kitchen, not wanting to disturb the older woman’s rest. Auntie hadn’t slept well since her fall. Simply finding a comfortable way to sit or lie down could be a challenge on the bad days.
As soon as she stepped into the kitchen, Jasmine ran into another problem. Rosie stiffened a moment when she noticed the unidentified male in the room. But it didn’t bother her for long.
Jasmine was in the process of saying, “You remember Mr. Royce, don’t you?” when the little girl threw her whole body forward in a swan dive. Right in Royce’s direction. The move was so unexpected that Jasmine wasn’t able to get a good grasp. Rosie would have slipped from her arms if Royce hadn’t stepped forward and caught Rosie.
Jasmine didn’t know if it had been instinct for him, but it saved her daughter from what could have been a nasty tumble to the tile floor.
As soon as she’d caught her breath, Jasmine exclaimed, “Oh, goodness. I don’t know how that happened.” Her panicked mind replayed the child’s jump for Royce over and over.
“No problem,” he said, sounding far calmer than she felt. He immediately righted the baby and positioned her in his arms as if it were something he did on a daily basis.
All Jasmine could do was blink and breathe.
Rosie, the little stinker, ignored the drama she’d caused her mama and immediately began to babble at her captive audience. Royce’s colorful tie seemed to fascinate her. And Jasmine could swear the baby was actually flirting as she glanced up at Royce’s face and bestowed a big, gummy grin on him.
It might have been funny if it was anyone but Royce. The man who wanted nothing to do with family.
“Here. I’ll take her,” Jasmine offered with a step forward.
“It’s fine,” he assured her.
Unsure what else to do, she waved toward the table. “Have a seat.”
As he settled them in at the dining room table, Jasmine brought his forgotten coffee from the counter. She stood next to them for a moment, fascinated and embarrassed by her daughter’s animated behavior—and Royce’s ability to take it all in stride. When had this happened?
Before she could get a handle on the scene before her, Jasmine was mortified to hear her sister Ivy say from behind her, “Well, isn’t this the perfect picture of domesticity?”
This was not how Royce had planned to spend his evening. Very few men would complain about being surrounded by a roomful of beautiful Southern women, being served delicious home cooking—and Royce wasn’t going to be the one to start.
He’d simply planned to spend it with Jasmine. Alone. Preferably naked.
It took considerable self-control not to watch her every move with a hungry gaze, though baby Rosie’s attachment to him had dampened his ardor significantly, as had the avid speculation on the other women’s faces. He wasn’t sure what was up with the little squirt, but she’d apparently decided Royce was her one and only adult tonight. She wasn’t having it any other way. Any time Jasmine or her sisters tried to hold Rosie or move her away from him, big tears flooded her little eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
Much to his chagrin, Royce was a sucker for it.
Her high chair had been set beside him with Jasmine on the other side. The setup felt unreal to him, as if his brain couldn’t comprehend what he’d gotten himself into. But he also had no desire to hightail it for the front door—an odd development, to say the least.
Normally, he would have been the first one to hit the road.
As they ate, Rosie alternated between her baby food and sippy cup, and playing with the emerald ring on Jasmine’s right hand.
“You wear that ring a lot,” he said. “Where’s it from?”
The table went strangely silent, as if he’d asked something completely inappropriate—or something they didn’t really want to answer.
“It’s an heirloom piece we recently found in an old jewelry box,” Auntie finally said.
Royce could swear the women around him slumped just a little.
“The girls’ family line goes all the way back to the origins of Savannah. Their ancestor was a pirate who turned respectable and married the daughter of one of the founding families.”
Royce grinned at Jasmine over Rosie’s head. “Respectable, huh? So that’s where you learned to fit in with the elite crowd so well.”
“It’s in the genes,” she confirmed, putting on a fake bravado.
“It’s actually quite fascinating,” Willow said before launching into a monologue about Savannah’s origins.