Free Manacled in Monaco by Jianne Carlo Page B

the entire team, but they focused on Anthony quite a bit. His first coach gave me an entire tape of him. After that, I offered to pay whoever was coaching for a tape of him alone. Most of them were very kind and did it for free. So, I have a tape for every year from when he was four.”
    Suppressing the now familiar surge of jealousy as he remembered that all the coaches wanted to marry her, a wave of sadness banded his chest. Rolan wanted to howl at the moon and wail about the years he’d missed.
    As if she knew what he was thinking, Sarita continued, “He was a big baby, eight pounds five ounces, completely bald, and he came out hollering.”
    A beatific smile curved her lips and those amber eyes held a faraway taint to them as if she painted the pictures in her mind. “I fell in love with him the minute I saw him. Doc loved him, too. He thought of him as a grandson. It was Doc who bought his Little League uniforms.” Their gaze interlinked. “He grew more and more like you every day. I never could understand how he could have your mannerisms, your gestures, yet he’d never seen you.”
    A clogged throat prevented speech and he couldn’t help pulling her into his arms. “Sarita honey, come have a drink with me and tell me more about our son. Please?”
    The please did it. Until he uttered that word, she had no intentions of spending time with him. Her tight jaw relaxed and the corners of her mouth lifted.
    “Only for a few minutes. You still have to give me a breakdown so I can plan a menu for the cocktail party tonight.”
    “Okay,” he said and inhaled the slight citrus scent of her hair. Lifting one palm to his mouth, he tongued a moist circle on her flesh while drowning in her eyes for a long moment.
    Then he twined their fingers together and they walked down the narrow corridor, hips bumping. She regaled him with stories of Tony. His first step holding onto Doc’s Labrador’s tail, his first word, “Outside,” and the day she came home to find Doc trying to get him out of the old oak tree in the back yard. Roland winced when she recounted his first injury -- a broken baby tooth -- he’d hit the edge of the Y’s diving board while attempting a somersault.
    She never noticed that he’d taken her back to the cabin. He poured two glasses of wine, sat in one of the two plump chairs, and hauled her onto his lap. Aroused, but happy to listen to her melodic voice and the history of his son’s development, he couldn’t remember ever feeling so content.
    Rolan heard more than Sarita intended.
    The bank manager Tony had mentioned, the jerk he had hit with the frying pan, was the husband of Rolan’s old flame Shannon Cartwright. Shannon divorced her husband shortly after that incident. She then wed a multimillionaire international land developer, one of her father’s business colleagues, and left Orangeville with a magisterial send off. But not before spreading vindictive rumors about Sarita and Tony practicing bizarre Hindu rituals, and thereby ensuring their social isolation.
    Austen interrupted their intimate tête-à-tête when he knocked on the open door and strolled into the room.
    “Yes?” Rolan raised an eyebrow.
    “Suresh sent back the Lamborghini with a message. Due to bad weather, the jet the team’s on is going to be three hours late. He suggests we put off the party tonight and reschedule for tomorrow.”
    While Austen delivered his message, Sarita tried to squirm out of Rolan’s lap, but he tightened his arm around her waist. “That works out perfectly. Send a message back letting Suresh know it’s in the works.”
    “Sure thing, boss.” Austen tipped his usual salute and disappeared down the corridor.
    For a few seconds silence reigned.
    Sarita pushed her hands against his chest and lifted her head. “I still need to get dinner for you and the rest of the staff.”
    Rolan shook his head. “Uh-uh. You’ve been on the go since early a.m. Tonight, you take off. I promised Tony that