to her and tell her I'd found nothing, but I couldn't tell her what I had found. Not yet. Not while she could deny it.
I pulled open the front door to see Royce. He held out what must have been four dozen orchids, a mixture of yellow, white, pink and blue petals. Blue? Caught off guard, I was momentarily incapable of speech.
"For you," he said. "I know blue is your favorite color, so I had some of the petals dyed."
I'm sure my expression was horrified as I accepted the bouquet, holding it in my hands like it was a stink bomb about to go off. Richard the Bastard always brought me flowers-always red roses-when he'd done something wrong.
My heart fluttered, though, because this felt different. Royce had gone to so much trouble, had thought about my individual tastes. And he'd done it to make me feel better, I suspected, not to throw me off the scent of his bad behavior.
"I had to search the whole damn state for those," he told me.
"They're beautiful," I said softly. "Thank you."
"If you start crying, I'll be forced to cut out my heart and give it to you. How are you feeling?"
"Better." I pushed out a breath and gazed down at the dewy, sweet petals. "Thank you for, well, everything."
He grinned, a bit of self-deprecation hanging at the edges of his lips. "I was going to give you a list of to-do chores, but everything on the list was raunchy and I'd rather wait until you're receptive to give you something like that."
I laughed; I just couldn't help myself. And it felt good, forgetting my troubles, releasing my tension and simply enjoying him.
"Are you going to invite me in?" Royce asked gently. "I have another present for you."
"Oh, sure. Come in. What kind of present?" I couldn't hide my excitement.
He brushed past me, turned, then placed a brand new Blue-Jay in my free hand. "For you."
Damn it all to hell!
"I noticed yours had sprouted wings and flown itself out of your window, so I thought you'd like another one."
"Gee, thanks."
"You ready to go?"
"Let me put these in water first." Without a backward glance, I strode away.
Once in the kitchen, I stuffed the BlueJay under a stack of magazines (never to look at it again!) and arranged the orchids in my favorite crystal vase. A fresh, dewy scent washed over me.
I closed my eyes and savored it, holding my breath for as long as I could, then releasing it.
I liked that Royce had gone to so much trouble for me. But I hated it, too. I was beginning to feel all mushy inside.
Frowning, I practically shoved the arrangement onto the table as a centerpiece, then moved the pink carnations my stepdad had sent me this morning to the counter. I don't know why I'd kept them. To remind me he was really a turkey-on-rye sandwich hidden in a Krispy Kreme coating, perhaps. The note attached had congratulated me on landing such a lucrative job and hinted that I needed to fill out an application for the position of Mrs. Royce Powell. He also apologized for pushing me to get back together with Richard. How could he be so sweet, yet treat my mom so badly?
"Who sent you those?" Royce asked from behind me. He was suddenly so close I could feel the heat of him. His arms reached out and anchored on the counter in front of me, trapping me with his body. Surrounding me.
I swallowed. I shivered.
I licked my lips and perhaps-and this is not a confession- arched my back slightly and allowed the best part of him to rub against the crease of my bottom. Tendrils of desire unfurled, wrapping and winding around me. My defenses were down, and I didn't know whether it was because I'd been through an emotional wringer the last few days or because I was destined to respond to Royce no matter what. Either way, I wanted him.
Maybe I needed to rethink my sexual time line. Maybe being with him before his mom's party wasn't such a bad idea.
"Who, uh, sent me what?"
He leaned forward, his sandalwood fragrance wafting around me as surely as his heat. He pointed and said, "Those," in a tone that reeked of anger and attitude.
What was this? Another bout of jealousy? "None of your business," I said, turning my head to see how my words affected him. Right before my eyes, Royce's seemingly casual facade mutated into black fury he couldn't hide.