Desire September 2017 Books 1 -4. Yvonne Lindsay

steak that ravished her taste buds.

      A good fifteen minutes later, Jasmine heard the phone buzzing again. This time it was accompanied by Royce’s grimace. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and read the texts. “It’s Matthew.”

      For the first time, Jasmine wished that he would ignore his phone. For the first time, her reasons were personal.

      The telltale buzz filled the space between them. Matthew wasn’t giving up. “I have to go,” Royce said.

      For the first time, the regret in Royce’s voice matched Jasmine’s feelings.

      “Too bad,” she said, not caring that her voice had gone husky. “I was having fun.”

      His gaze met hers, bringing a return of the electric atmosphere from earlier. “Me, too.”

      “Isn’t your business ever fun?” Deep down, she knew she was past the point of being strictly professional.

      “I’m good at it,” he finally answered. “But no. Business has never been fun...until now.”

      * * *

      “So the ring is working!”

      “No,” Jasmine insisted, frowning at her youngest sister. “That is not what I said at all.”

      “Close enough.”

      Why had she even broached this topic? Jasmine should have known better. Her sisters—both of them—had a tendency to take a notion and run with it. Auntie presided over the scene from her recliner in the corner of the breakfast nook. The mischievous look on her face meant there would be no help coming from that direction.

      “I don’t know why I tell y’all anything,” Jasmine complained. “It’s just—” But the word business wouldn’t move past the constriction in her throat. She crossed the kitchen to stir the big pot of soup on the stove. Willow had chosen the perfect dinner for a rainy Saturday.

      Though the chatter continued behind her, Willow appeared at her side. “Are you okay?”

      While confident and decisive, Willow was also very sensitive to others. No one was more willing to lend a helping hand when she saw someone who needed it.

      Jasmine lowered her voice. “I just can’t forget how he talked about learning to cook because his mother was never home. And about being named after his father’s car.”

      She absently stirred the soup, watching chunks of veggies appear and disappear beneath the liquid surface. The lack of sunlight in the room left the green jewel in her ring lackluster; Jasmine still had the feeling the jewelry was mocking her.

      “I don’t know what this is, but Ivy’s right—it’s not just business anymore.”

      Ring or no ring.

      Willow gave a tiny squeal that she quickly silenced under Jasmine’s glare.

      “What about him? What does he think?” Willow asked, echoing Jasmine’s own questions.

      She didn’t want to admit that Mr. Business was turning out to be someone completely unexpected. Jasmine could never have guessed that the stern CEO she’d met in his office that first day would be able to melt her with such a hot kiss. But hadn’t that tattoo on his neck hinted at hidden depths? A tattoo she had yet to see in its entirety, now that she thought about it.

      “From your silence, I gather Royce is showing signs of moving in a different direction, too,” Willow filled in for her.

      “Surprisingly,” Jasmine mused. “I think so.”

      “So why not just go with it?”

      Jasmine gave the soup a final stir, then peeked into the oven at the cornbread sizzling in a cast-iron skillet. It was a simple delaying tactic, since they all knew cooking wasn’t in her skill set.

      “It’s not that easy.” She glanced over her shoulder to check on Rosie, who was cooing at Auntie and Ivy from her bouncy seat. “Even leaving aside the fact that he’s my boss...of sorts. How can I get involved? Royce definitely isn’t the family type. I have Rosie...”

      “She’s six months old,” Ivy said from right behind them.

      Jasmine jumped. “How’d you move that quick?”

      Ivy had a baby face, but her grin made her look even younger. “I have my ways.” She shook her head, making her blond curls dance. “And I wasn’t about to miss what all the whispering was about, now, was I?”

      She linked her arm with Jasmine’s and adopted the expression of a captive audience. “Now’s the perfect time for you to live a little. Rosie isn’t old enough to notice at this age. Later, you’ll need to be more careful because she’ll realize when Mommy is gone or bringing someone to visit.”

      “I don’t know.” Everything about this change in their attitudes toward each other had Jasmine off kilter. She and Royce had sparred from the moment they met. But now, something different was emerging. Something she wasn’t sure she was ready to face.

      Willow nodded in agreement with Ivy, but Jasmine didn’t want to concede that her baby sister was right. She searched for a reply that didn’t make her look like a scaredy-cat. From across the room, Jasmine’s ringtone filled the air.

      “Sweetheart,” Auntie called. “It’s that nice young man from the hospital.”

      Jasmine shared a look with Willow. The temptation to ignore the call was strong. Jasmine wasn’t ready for the test she could sense was coming around the corner.

      “Why don’t you answer it?” Ivy teased. “After all, it’s just business.”

      “Brat.”

      Willow was less about talk than action. She simply herded Jasmine in the direction of her phone. Jasmine removed her apron as she went. She caught the call right before it switched to voice mail. As she answered, she was acutely aware of her audience.

      “Hello?”

      “Jasmine?”

      Even his voice sounded different. The cadence a little slower. The tone a touch deeper. How was that possible? “Yes?”

      “Since our tasting session was cut short, I thought I’d make it up to you by cooking dinner for you.”

      That was more like Royce—straight to the point. It was the nature of his point she couldn’t quite grasp.

      She could feel the eyes of everyone in the room staring at her. Even Rosie seemed to be watching, still and waiting for her answer to an unknown question. Jasmine hesitated. Going to Royce’s penthouse was definitely not business. She glanced back and forth between Willow’s encouraging expression and Ivy’s excited one. Jasmine forced herself to turn away, to lay the burden of other people’s expectations aside for once.

      Even as she paced a few steps and opened her mouth to answer, she wasn’t sure what to say. Was she ready for this? Probably not.

      But then she thought over everything she’d been through in the last year. Learning Rosie’s mother was pregnant, that she would probably die. Bringing her to live here. Taking care of her family while learning to be a mother for the first time. All while holding down a crazy job.

      What the hell—it was time to live for once.

       Eleven

      Royce knew he was in trouble the minute Jasmine walked out of the elevator into the foyer in one of those feminine, flowy dresses she wore. Only this one seemed to have a little more oomph—a little extra cleavage, a slit up one side. Or was his overheated brain imagining that?

      He felt like someone had flipped a switch inside him, jumpstarted an electrical pulse that shot through him whenever Jasmine was near. It was like the exhilaration of implementing a successful