Chapter 9

They pretended like crazy that they were a normal couple. Since that night of frank revelations, they have never brought up the topic again. He would come to the gallery and laugh and chat with the patrons. He would bring coffee and pastries with him for the staff. Everyone knew they were a couple, and neither cared that they did.

He was her ‘young man' and made it plain that he was into her. No longer did he stay back, afraid to touch her. At first, she had been hesitant about him hugging her when he was in the gallery, but he had brushed that aside.

They would go out on dates. He took her to fancy restaurants where he was treated courteously and respected due to his station. Waiters and ma?tre d's would bow and scrape whenever he appeared, and his air of royalty and power was so obvious that there could be no doubt about who he was.

As if he were aware of her nervousness during those times, he would charm her with hilarious stories that would have her laughing and relaxing.

In return, she introduced him to her ‘life'. She took him bowling when he told her he had never enjoyed the sport. To her infinite disgust, he caught on so well that he beat her several times. She also took him to local restaurants, where he was required to eat with his fingers.

They were aware that the time was whizzing by and wished they could do something to slow it down. He had not said anything to her about his impending departure, but they were both acutely aware that time was running out for them.

As if that was imprinted on their minds, the lovemaking took on a passion and intensity so potent that it seemed to be searing their souls.

They decided to stay at his place two nights before he was due to leave. She had considered introducing him to her siblings but realized there would be questions she did not have the answers to.

She insisted on cooking for him.

"We could order out."

"No. I want to. This might just be" Shaking her head, she turned away, but they both knew what she had been about to say. "Besides, I have not had a chance to practice my culinary skills since you have been here."

He had smiled at that, the movement not quite reaching his jade-green eyes.

He had to leave. Two days ago, while Tessa was at work, his parents called to remind him that he was due home. "There are things to discuss and for you to deal with. We have given you four weeks, Landen, and you had better do the right thing and come home."

The warning had been clear. Come home, or we will send someone for you."

He had to leave, even if it was just for a short time. Even if it's just to tell them firmly that they were no longer allowed to rule his life. He had told Tessa that they had places all over the world. They could pick one and go and live there. She might be carrying his baby, and there was no way he would leave her to carry out that task alone.

His heart quaked at the thought of what his parents would say when they discovered that he had ‘fallen from grace' in their eyes. So, he had veered from the course they set for him and had fallen for a wonderful black woman who made his blood sing and his pulse race.

She made him happy. She was intelligent, feisty, and independent, and he was proud of her. So, according to them, what if she was not the right color? They were bloody living in the twenty-first century, were they not?

So, what if she was not from a so-called right family and she was not British? He loved her, and his happiness was supposed to come first.

But he knew better; he thought bitterly as he drew smoke into his lungs. He had given up the habit years ago, but the stress of what he was about to do had him picking it up again. He was seated on the balcony, the pleasant scenery lost on him.

It was hard to believe that the four weeks had flown by quickly. He had come here with the jaded view that he would have a fling and return home, resigned to marrying someone he did not love.

It seemed like years instead of weeks since he had arrived and happened to step into that particular gallery. Even though the place was a few blocks from where he was staying, he knew of other more famous galleries where he could have gone.

But fate had stepped in, and he had chosen that particular one and met her. Was he regretful of that meeting? No! As long as he lives, he will never regret meeting her. She had changed his life for the better.

She brought out emotions inside him that he never knew existed. She made him laugh for the sheer joy of laughing. She gave him hope and lit a fire that made him feel like he was being transported on a cloud. He would leave her long enough to sort things out.

He owed it to them to tell them the truth. He was going to lay it out for them. He had met someone, the love of his life, his soulmate - bloody hell! Before he met her, he had thought that expression was utter nonsense. But not anymore. Stubbing out the cigar, he rose, his mind entirely made up.

*****

"Honey, you have not heard a single word I said. Am I boring you?" Her brother's deep voice was mild with a hint of impatience.

"I am sorry. I am not particularly hungry." He had called to ask her to lunch, and she reluctantly agreed.

Brian was an excellent lawyer and adept at ferreting out the truth.

"We have not seen you for weeks. Karen said she went by the house, and you were not there." He stared at her curiously as he spooned up tomato soup. "I hope there is a good reason for that."

"I have been working-"

He shook his head firmly. "Unless you tell me you are working twenty-four/seven, you might as well forget it."

She gave him a whimsical smile. "Would you buy it if I told you that my social life has become extremely active?"

"No," he told her bluntly. "Now, what the hell is going on?"

She considered lying to him but decided it was best to tell him the truth. She had been hoping to avoid them both until- Her mind shied away from the awful reality of Landen leaving.

"I met someone."

"That's good news." His dark brown eyes met hers. "Or is it? Is he married?"

"No!" Pushing away her barely-eaten sandwich, she reached for the glass of water and gulped. "No."

"Then what's the problem?"

"He is from the UK."

"I see." Understanding dawned. "Here on vacation?"

"Yes." She took another gulp of water and wished it was something stronger.

"So, it's just a holiday fling. No wonder you have not introduced him. Good for you-"

"I am in love with him." She interrupted huskily, her throat aching.

"Long distance relationships-"

"Never work." She finished. "There is more."

His eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me you are foolish enough to get knocked up."

"No. At least, I don"t know."

Carefully putting his spoon down, he stared at her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable. "Please tell me you had the presence of mind to have practiced safe sex."

"What if I didn't?" She sounded defensive and could not help it.

"Then I would have to think that this man has made you some sort of promise for you to behave so recklessly."

"He has."

"Good." Brian resumed eating. Then he looked up suddenly as if a thought had occurred to him. "Why the hell do you look so damned unhappy?"

"I have not told you his name."

"Why would that make a difference?" He asked with a frown.

"His name is Landen Chapman."

"I can't say-"

"British royalty," she added as she watched him.

"I still don't-" Without a word, he took out his phone and typed in the name, watching as the wealth of information about the family poured in. When he looked over at her, she braced for the questions.

"How?"

"He came into the gallery almost four weeks ago. I am surprised you have not seen our photos splashed all over the internet."

"So, this is not a secret, and it's not a fling either?"

"No." She shook her head. "Oh Brian, I am in such a damn mess."

He glanced from her to his phone. "It says here that he is supposed to marry Ms. Sara Pendleton."

"Yes."

"And you are okay with that."

"He said he is not going to marry her."

"I see." His voice was quiet. "Let me guess- he fed you some lines about marrying you."

"Yes."

"And you believed him."

"He loves me." She sounded defensive again but did not care.

"That might be the case, but you are smart enough to realize that will never happen."

"Why not?" She challenged. "Because I am black?"

"Yes honey, that's exactly why, and the fact that you are not British royalty. I think you have come to the same conclusion, and that's why you are sitting here and not eating. He will not marry you. Even if he is in love with you, as you claim, he will not go against his family's wishes, and they will not accept you. That's the reality."

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she looked away from him as she fought the tears; all week, she had been trying desperately not to think about the future or the fact that he would be leaving soon.

She jumped reflexively when Brian reached out to touch her hand. "Honey?"

"I am sorry." Turning to look at him, she tried to bolster a smile and did not quite manage it. "Oh God, Bri, what am I going to do?"

His hand closed over hers reassuringly. "We are here for you, no matter what."

*****

"I stopped at the market and picked up the items I needed to prepare the meal." She was so determinedly cheerful and had resolved while on her way that she would not go into despair that she failed to notice the strained expression on his handsome face when he opened the door to let her in.

"I decided against chicken and picked up shrimp instead." She dumped the bag on top of the counter when she realized he had not spoken or greeted her. "What's wrong?"

"My father had a heart attack."

"Oh." She knew she was supposed to say more, but the words seemed lodged in her throat.

"They wanted me to leave tonight, but I told them I would leave in the morning. First thing." He came toward her, and she stepped out of his reach.

"I should get started on the meal."

"Stop," he said tersely. "We have to talk-"

"No." She shook her head firmly. "You are leaving in the morning - how early?"

"The plane leaves at six."

"I see. I should leave tonight-"

"No." Bridging the space between them, he clamped his hands on her shoulders. "This does not change anything-"

"How can you say that?" She cried. "It changes everything. Your father had a heart attack, and you are going to have to step in and do your job. You cannot leave, Landen, and I have no authority to ask you to stay now."

"I will be back," he promised hoarsely, his heart breaking into tiny pieces.

"Please don't insult me by making promises you cannot keep. It was wonderful while it lasted-"

"Don't!" He shook her hard. "This is not goodbye. This is a situation we had not foreseen. I will go home, and as soon as the danger is over, I will come back for you."

"No! Damn you! You are making this harder than it needs to be." Firming her lips, she tore herself away from him and put the counter between them. "I will start the meal, and you will go and set the table."

"Tessa-"

"Please." She whispered. "I cannot bear anything else. Just go."

He stood there for a minute before turning on his heels.

She waited until he had exited the room before allowing herself to break down, but she could only do so for a few minutes. She had a meal to prepare—their last meal together.

*****

The conversation was stilted, and for the first time since they had met, they had nothing to say to each other. They tried to force the meal down, and he tried teasing her about her culinary skills, which did not bring the desired result. After almost half an hour, they gave up and dumped the barely eaten meal into the trash can. They did the dishes.

She went upstairs before him and took a shower, dragging on the black silk robe. Then she went to pack for the two of them. Picking up a lime green cotton shirt, she pressed it to her face and inhaled the scent of his expensive cologne.

Taking a deep breath, she folded the shirt carefully and put it with her things. It was something to remind her of him as if she needed anything at all.

She would remember his lazy smile, the whiteness of his teeth, the way his jade-green eyes darkened whenever they made love, and most of all, the feel of him deep inside her. She would never forget his kisses. Never. A sound just inside the doorway had her turning around.

"I don't want to go." His voice was husky, his eyes feverishly bright as he stared at her.

"Well, you have to." She forced her tone to remain brisk. "I packed for you-"

"You didn't have to."

"It gave me something to do."

She watched as he strode over to stand in front of her.

"Tessa-"

"No." She was on the brink of tears and promised herself she would not cry. "Don't say anything."

"I have to." His hands came up to wrap around her throat. "I am coming back and going to stay in touch."

"I would rather you didn't."

His eyes narrowed at that. "What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Long distance relationships don't work." She intoned in a bland tone of voice.

"It will be a long-distance thing for a short while."

"You don't know that, and I have no intention of sitting here and wondering if you are coming back."

"What are you saying?"

"We might as well say goodbye-"

"Is that what you want?" He asked her coldly, his British accent even more pronounced.

"It's not what I want but is what it is."

"We love each other-"

"And in time that will pass."

He simply stared at her, the hurt and pain evident. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I don't have a choice!" She cried. "You are leaving, and I will never see you again."

She reined in her distress and closed her eyes briefly. "It's for the best."

"Too bad I do not agree," he told her tightly. He let go of her, slammed the suitcases shut, and dumped them onto the floor. Next, he dragged off his clothes and turned back the sheets.

"What are you doing?"

"If you are not already carrying my seed, I will spend the rest of the night and morning making certain you are."

"Landen-"

"Shut up!" Dragging her forward, he tore the blouse off her and got rid of the bra. Lifting her by the waist, he plunked her down on the edge of the bed so that he could take off her shoes and her trousers. She watched him numbly as he jerkily performed the task. There was a barely leashed anger about him that had her remaining silent.

"Move over," he ordered tersely. When she did, he climbed in next to her. Propping his head on his hand, he allowed his gaze to wander over her naked body, sweeping from her head straight to her sex, where his gaze lingered.

"Landen-"

"Don't say anything."

She bristled at his tone. "I am not some mindless bimbo-"

"No, you are the woman I am irrevocably in love with," he said thickly. "I promised you, and I intend to keep it. This is just a setback, and we will deal with it."

"I am losing you-"

"You are not." Reaching out with his free hand, he clamped it around her throat. "My God, do you think so little that you would believe I would go away and never return? That I would forget what we share?"

"It's not that." She trembled, her heart racing so much that she was sure he heard it. "You are leaving, and I cannot bear the thought of never seeing you again."

"Then come with me."

"What?" She blinked at him.

A light suddenly came into his eyes. "Come with me, darling. I have a flat in London where you could stay. Think of this as a vacation."

"I cannot do that."

"Why the hell not?"

"Will you be introducing me to your family?" She saw the truth in his expression.

"I did not think so. You are well-known in your country, and there is no way someone would not find out that I am there. Your father had a heart attack, and you don't know how serious it is. I would not want to be the cause of him deteriorating even more."

"I want you with me."

Her smile was tremulous. "And I want to be with you. But you need to do this. Your family needs you right now, and it would be selfish of me to stop you from fulfilling your duties." Her hand lifted to cup his jaw. "Make love to me, darling." She whispered. "Put your stamp on me."

"Happily." He drew her to him, bending his head to kiss her forehead, then her cheek and the tip of her nose. He was so gentle, his touch so profound, that she felt like crying. When he brushed his lips against hers, she turned into his arms, her lips parting to accept his tongue.

The kiss became demanding and urgent, his mouth moving on hers with a ferocity that she echoed. Their bodies melted into each other's heartbeats, becoming one as the reality of his leaving her hit them full force. Dragging his lips from hers, he kissed her neck and used his tongue on the hollow of her throat.

When his mouth closed over the rigid nipple, she moaned, her body responding fiercely. He suckled gently at first and then increased the rhythm, pulling the pebble-like hardness into his mouth as if he could not get enough of her.

By the time he had transferred to the other nipple, she was a mass of pure nerves, the sensations shooting through her body like liquid flames.

"Now!" She gasped, clenching his hair into her fists as she tried to drag him up and over him. "Please, Landen. Please."

Letting go of the nipple, he climbed on top of her, driving into her with one long stroke until he was embedded deep.

His hands clasped her face, his fingers trembling. "I love you," he whispered fiercely as he started to move. "I love you!" He cried out, the thrusts becoming more urgent and demanding until they were both lost in a sea of tormenting passion.