I wager my nanny, Elaine, would feel differently if she’d lived to see me as a business acquisitions consultant.” At her raised eyebrows, he continued, “She found money to be a necessary evil but always told me that she hoped I’d pick a good honest job that didn’t revolve around it.”
He hadn’t thought about that conversation in over a decade. Elaine had passed when he was in his first year of college, and by that time he was firmly in his rebellious stage. Too much drinking, too many girls, too many attempts to do something crazy enough to force his parents to acknowledge him. Elaine’s death had snapped him out of it like being thrown into a freezing ocean. He’d taken a good hard look at his life and realized that the only person he was hurting was himself. His parents would never change who they were, and trying to push them to be different was a lesson in futility.
Roman shook his head. “This got heavy. Sorry.”
She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I appreciate your sharing. It’s kind of strange that we don’t know much about each other, but...” Allie motioned between them.
“We fuck like we were made for each other.” He wished he could recall the coarse words the second they were out of his mouth. He and Allie had bypassed mere fucking days ago. This was something on another level and cheapening it was a shitty thing to do.
She smiled. “Exactly that.”
It stung that she agreed with him so quickly, but had he really expected anything else? In an effort to distract them both, he said, “So how did you meet Becka?”
As she launched into a tale of two broke college students desperate enough to take second jobs at the scary campus gym, he sat back and indulged in watching the animated way she spoke. Allie really was beautiful. He’d known that, of course—he had two eyes in his head, after all—but she was beautiful right down to the core. A genuinely good person.
Let me help you.
He couldn’t say it. Even talking about the gym in more abstract forms had caused her to shut him out. Trying to talk more explicitly was a recipe for disaster. He had to play the game within the terms they’d set out. It was the only way.
“You’re not even listening.” She didn’t say it like she was mad—just stating a fact.
“I am.” Roman managed a smile. “That boss you had at the campus gym sounds like a real piece of work—though he should have been reported for forcing you to be in those conditions.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Okay, that’s a neat trick. You were a million miles away, but you still retained everything I said. That’s nuts.”
“Necessary evil.” Though he’d never once been called on it before now. “I learned early in my career that it’s best to have several options for plans by the end of a meeting with a new client—that means listening to what they’re saying while still thinking strategically to create a game plan. They fill out preliminary information, of course, but until I meet them face-to-face, I rarely know exactly what they’re looking for.” He shrugged. “Some things sound better on paper than they are in reality.”
Allie bit her bottom lip, and he could see the conflict clear on her face. “Okay, I’ll bite—tell me about your job. Broad strokes, please.”
Easy enough, though he couldn’t help feeling it was a test. “I am a glorified numbers monkey. I research various businesses that look like good investments and then line up investors that will fit well with them. The ultimate outcome varies. Sometimes they take it to the ground level and build it up again. Sometimes they expand. Sometimes they franchise. Usually it’s successful for both business and investor and I get a nice fat bonus.”
“Depends on your definition of successful, doesn’t it?”
He knew where she was going with this, and as much as he didn’t want to fight, maybe it was better to get it out there now and expose the elephant in the room. “I won’t pretend that every business owner is thrilled with the process, but most of the time the alternative is rock bottom and losing everything they worked their ass off to accomplish. Sometimes compromise is necessary.”
She looked directly at him with those big blue eyes. “And do you ever compromise, Roman?”
* * *
Allie should have...well, she should have done a lot of things. She regretted the question as soon as she put it to voice—like she regretted much of what she’d said around Roman since they’d met. She pushed to her feet. “Never mind. We just got through saying we shouldn’t talk about this—should keep it light—and we keep doing the exact opposite of that.”
There was one thing they were good at—better than good at.
She slid her thumbs into the band of her skirt and pushed it down in a smooth move. The top took a little more effort, but she managed to unhook it and drop it without looking like a total fool. Roman hadn’t moved once, but his knuckles were white where he held on to the table. He managed to tear his gaze from her breasts to her face. “What are you doing?”
“We’re going to ruin this by talking too much. I don’t want to ruin it.”
Still, he didn’t move. “It’s okay for us to disagree on things. It’s unrealistic to think that we’d match up on every subject the way we match up physically.”
She knew that. Of course she knew that. Only a child or an idiot thought there was such a thing as a perfect relationship. Everyone had problems, though most of the time they weren’t as catastrophic as her parents’ had been.
But this wasn’t a relationship. She had to keep reminding herself of that, and that was as much a problem as anything.
She shook her head. “That’s the thing—this is fantasy. There is no room for disagreements in fantasy. I want you. You want me. Let’s just leave it at that.”
“Allie—”
She turned and strode into the darkness. He’d follow. He’d be unable to help himself. And then they’d get their hands on each other and all her conflicting feelings would disappear for a while. That was what she wanted. She already had a complicated life. She didn’t have room for more complications—even if they arrived in a package that made her body ache and her heart beat too hard.
Sex was easier. Sex was safe.
Even if it didn’t feel particularly safe as she hit the sand and kept going. The wildness of the island was closer to the surface here, with the villa lights seeming at a distance and the stars a blanket overhead. The soft shushing sound of the water sliding over the sand let her draw her first full breath since she and Roman had started talking about things better left unsaid.
She tilted her head back and inhaled deeply, taking the salty air into her lungs and letting it chase away her worries. She was still on vacation, no matter how stubbornly real life kept trying to intrude. Relaxation was the name of the game and Allie would be damned if she was drawn back into all the crap before she was good and ready.
Footsteps padded behind her, and she didn’t turn to watch Roman approach. She wouldn’t be able to see more than the outline of him, and it was better to soak up what little peace she could as she waited to see if he’d let the conversation go.
He stopped next to her, close enough that his shoulder brushed against hers. “You can’t run from this forever.”
“I’m not running from anything.” Liar. “I’m holding to the arrangement we made. Everything can wait until we leave West Island.” What happened then... No, she wasn’t going to talk about it. She wasn’t even going to think about it.
“Allie...” His exhale was lost in the sound of the small waves hitting their feet. “This is what you really want? For me to fuck you until neither of us is capable of words and we just ignore everything unspoken between us?”
This was the moment of truth. If she said she’d