Page 74 of Hate to Crave You
Roman
“We should consider addinga few personal touches,” Julianna said lightly as they walked through the doors of the hotel boardroom where they’d first met months earlier. “We’re here so often, it’s starting to feel like home. But all these neutral colors…they just don’t work for me.”
Roman laughed and reached over to catch her hand, giving it a light squeeze. That light touch managed to settle some of the nerves he felt and he wished he could just keep on touching her. It might make this meeting go a little more smoothly.
But, he thought, considering who had yet to show, then again, maybe not.
“Do we wish each other luck here or good luck to us both or what?” he asked, striving to keep the same light tone she’d used.
“Good luck to us both. This is forus,” she reminded him. Then she rose onto her toes and brushed a kiss against his lips.
She broke away only seconds before her father came into the room. He glanced from her to Roman, a graying brow going up. He came over to her and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “I tried calling to see if you needed a lift, but I couldn’t reach you.”
“I already had plans,” she said, smiling at him.
Roman recalled the phone ringing a few hours earlier—he and Julianna had been very much distracted at the time and he suppressed a wince as he wondered how Charles Castle would handle it if he knew what Julianna had been doing at the time.
I’m sorry, sir. Your daughter and I are engaged in some very strenuous water sports and can’t currently come to the phone.
He bit back a laugh.
Of course, the older man may very well already know about him and Julianna. She had told him that her mother knew and she might have already told her father.
Somebody cleared a throat behind him and Roman turned to face Michael Montrose.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Julianna leading her parent away.
He didn’t look away from his father. It was the first time they’d seen each other since their fight. Michael was dressed in funeral suit of all black and a blindingly white shirt. The tie, too, was all, black, as was the small pocket square of the suit.
Michael Montrose had chosen to attend what could be one of the most important meetings of his career dressed like he was going to a funeral.
Roman couldn’t help but notice it and he wondered at the significance. His father was sending a message, but he wasn’t sure if it was for him…or somebody else.
“Hello, Dad,” Roman said, slipping a hand into his pocket.
Michael inclined his head, his eyes straying behind him to linger briefly on either Julianna or her father.
He was betting on Julianna. Roman could see the flicker of anger there, the questions, the determination.
He hadn’t softened even the slightest, Roman knew. But Roman hadn’t expected otherwise.
“What’s this all about, Roman?” Michael asked in a wintry voice. “Some smokescreen to try and distract me from what’s going on between you and that Castle woman?”
“She has a name,” Roman said mildly.
Michael’s glare intensified. “You going to answer me?”
Moira Templeton’s appearance wasn’t so much a rescue but a temporary reprieve. Things between Roman and his father were far from settled, he knew. And after the meeting… Roman didn’t want to think about how much moreunsettled things might get.
“Hello, everybody!” she said, walking in.
Her eyes landed on Michael and Roman and without blinking an eye, she walked right up to Michael and dropped a kiss on his cheek.
He grudgingly allowed it and gave her a stern smile.
In contrast to his formal black, she wore a dress of bright, peacock blue and looked quite cheerful as she drew away from the elder Montrose and tapped his arm.
“Michael, stop looking like such a mean old grouch,” she said with a kind of charm unique to the Templeton family. “Come, everybody…let’s have a seat and get started.”
