Page 16 of Prince of Her Heart
“You can.”He adjusted in his seat, unbothered by her panic.“The subterfuge works better if we’re engaged.More convincing.”His lips curved into a playful smirk.“Plus, it gives your mom more to brag about.”
Tabitha bit back a smile.The man was dangerous.Too clever by half.
She stared at the ring again.It reallywasbeautiful.What if she just… wore it?Didn’t say anything either way?She didn’t have to confirm or deny anything.Just… exist.
“What are you thinking so hard about?”he asked, amusement dancing in his voice.
Tabitha stiffened.“I was wondering if the new window film that Istern Chemicals developed actually works as well as they claim.”
His smile deepened.“Liar.”
The way he said it—low and husky—made her toes curl.
What did his voice sound like first thing in the morning?Was he grumpy until coffee, or deliciously quiet like her?Did he like morning sex?Or was he more of an evening kind of man?
“You’re nervous about something,” he added, his voice dipping another octave.“But I’m going to discover every one of your secrets this weekend, Tabitha.”
The SUV came to a smooth stop.
He leaned in just a little closer, eyes gleaming.
“You’ve been warned.”
Then he stepped out and extended a hand to help her down.
Tabitha hesitated before taking his hand.
Not because she didn’t want to touch him.Ramzi always helped her out of vehicles when they traveled together.His touch wasn’t new.
But this moment felt different.
Maybe it was because she was home again, after five long years.Maybe it was the familiar streets and distant memories pressing in from all directions.Or maybe it was because everything inside her felt tender and exposed, and Ramzi’s touch—steady and warm—might do something reckless to her heart.
“Tabitha?”he prompted, voice low and gentle.
She slipped her hand into his and stepped out of the SUV.
The jeans and sweater set she wore were perfect for the cool morning.She could lose the cardigan later when the sun grew hotter, but for now, she needed the comfort of layers.
“Tabby!”a male voice called.
She froze, then turned toward the sound—her breath catching.
Her father.
Ben Jones jogged around the back of the house, wearing jeans and his favorite plaid shirt, the sleeves rolled up just like always.Her heart ached at the sight of him.Without thinking, Tabitha ran to him and threw herself into his arms.
“You’re finally home,” he whispered, holding her tight.
His voice—gruff, emotional—sent a lump straight to her throat.She leaned her cheek against his shoulder, breathing in the scent of sawdust and coffee.
“I’m home,” she whispered back.
When she pulled away, his hazel eyes met hers with quiet affection.
“You look good, Dad,” she said.“How’s the wood turning going?”
He chuckled, the sound as familiar as sunrise.“It’s going,” he answered, the same way he always had.It wasn’t much, but it meant everything.He’d retired from his accounting firm a few years ago with a tidy profit.He and her mother weren’t wealthy, but they were steady.Content.
