My Mother's Husband

Reese's POV

Rain poured mercilessly, beating down on the damp earth as if trying to punish it. It pattered on the windows of the black sedan with a forceful rhythm, as if protesting my presence in the car. Not that I could blame it. If not for her, I wouldn't have dreamt of returning. But here I was. On my way back to the place I hated more than anything in the world. In fact, hate was an understatement. I loathed it.

I pressed my forehead against the cold glass of the window. Cars, buildings and people breezed by in a blur, mirroring the thoughts of her that flitted through my mind.

Three years. I'd managed to stay away for three years, carving out a life in a beautiful French locale that I would give anything to return to. As the car tires crunched on the marble driveway, signalling our arrival, I let out a deep sigh. Then I began a mental preparation for the inevitable encounter I already wanted over before it even started.

"We're here, Miss Beaumont," Harrison announced. The sound of the car's engine died right after.

I pushed my door open before he could get to it. The house stood before me in all its Victorian splendor, looking more like a mausoleum than I could remember it being.

While Harrison was still struggling with a traitorous umbrella, I thrust my hands into my coat pockets and hurried towards the house. The rain seemed vengeful as it pelted me. My clothes were quickly soaked but I didn't mind the chill soaking through and biting into my skin. Instead, I welcomed the discomfort, using it as a distraction from the dull, hollow ache that loomed in my heart-the one that had been there since I'd received the call three days ago. It was so heavy that it could have knocked me down to the wet floor.

And at that moment, that would have been welcome. It would mean I didn't have to meet him. Him. The very reason I'd chosen to put this house in my rearview mirror. But fate had other plans.

I pushed the heavy oak doors open, stepping into the familiar scent of lilies. An eerily quiet house welcomed me, save for the consistent tapping sounds of the rain all around. The air was suffocating and for a moment, a strange sensation settled over me. Like a fierce reminder that I didn't belong there.

"You're late, Reese."

The voice was low and calm, echoing around the dimly lit foyer with authority. It was painfully familiar.

I stopped but I didn't turn immediately. Instead, I wiped a drop of rain away from my face with my sleeve. The slow, rhythmic click of heels on the marbled floor echoed repeatedly, until it became loud enough to warn me that he was already close. Then, I turned slowly. My heart nearly stopped.

Roman Sutton was standing next to the landing of the spiral staircase I used to love running across as a kid. In one hand was a glass of clear liquid while his second hand was buried in his pocket. There were only tiny traces left of the man I remembered. Apart from his light brown eyes and pointed nose, nothing else was as it was in my memory. Not even his honey blond hair which he now wore in a neat trim. I could remember it being so scattered on his head, giving him a careless appearance. But not now. The man standing before me seemed totally in control. He looked so full of confidence that he would have convinced me if he said he could stop the angry rain. Dressed in black pants and an equally black t-shirt that molded his frame perfectly, he was dangerously attractive. His well structured abs strained against the material of his clothes and my eyes betrayed me by wandering there for a third glance.

For fuck's sake. Focus, Reese.

But how could I, when my heart was hammering against my chest for no reason?

"My flight got delayed," I explained. My voice came out raspy and thin. There and then, I knew I was in dangerous waters. Fighting hard to maintain composure, I flashed him a bitter smile. "I'm surprised though, Roman. I expected the gates to be locked. That would have saved you the effort of pretending to care about anything concerning me."

"It's not a pretense," he said calmly, taking several steps closer. "Although I can't say I'm happy about it, Rosa would have wanted you here. This is me respecting her wishes even in her death. Nothing more."

"Oh, I wasn't expecting anything more," I returned curtly. I could feel it returning. The familiar flare of the deep-seated hatred I felt for him and everything he represented in my life. He was the reason I had to leave home. He was the reason my mother was dead and also the reason I didn't get to spend her last moments with her. She may have died three days ago but her absence in my life started three years ago. Now it was irredeemable.

Yes, I was right to hate him. But as he moved even closer, the woody scent of expensive cologne filling my nostrils, I also hated the way my breath caught in my throat. He was tall, towering over me like a damn tree.

"Welcome home," he said. The sarcasm dripping from his voice hit me like a slap to the face.

"Don't even think of it," I snapped, stepping closer to him before I realized it. I pinned my emerald eyes to his. "I'm only here to bury my mother. As soon as her coffin hits the earth, I'm getting back on a plane and returning to France. Forever."

Roman didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. Reaching out with one hand, he carefully tucked away the stray stand of hair that rested on my face. His hand brushed against my skin in the process. Brief as the contact was, it made my heart jump. Catching myself before I could lean into the touch, I jerked back, heart still dancing in my chest.

His expression smoothed into something unreadable. "This is the part where I remind you that the will hasn't been read yet. So you might want to reconsider that plan. Afterall, you're not charity inclined, are you?"

The threat in his statement was not lost on me. I glared at him, my nostrils flaring. He simply stepped back and turned to go. "You should get as much rest as you can. You'll need your strength for the funeral tomorrow."

His retreating footsteps died away within seconds.

The silence that followed was interrupted only by the muffled sound of the now dwindling rain. One thing was clear to me-I couldn't share the same house with him.