"Bullshit. She thinks the universe revolves around Davencourt. There's nothing she wouldn't do to safeguard it." He leaned back and stretched out his long legs, carefully avoiding contact with hers.
"Tell me what's been going on there. Mother tells me some of the news, and so does Aunt Sandra, but neither of them know anything about the day to-day operations. I do know that Gloria has managed to move her entire family into Davencourt," "Not all of them. Baron and his family still live in Charlotte."
"Being under the same roof with Lanette and Corliss is enough to make me think about buying my own place in town."
Roanna didn't voice her agreement, but she knew exactly what he meant.
"What about you?" he continued. "I know you went to college in Tuscaloosa. What changed your mind? I thought you wanted to attend college locally."
She had gone away because for a long time that had been easier than staying home. Her sleeping problems hadn't been as bad while she was away, the memories hadn't been as acute. But it had been over a year after he'd left before she had started college, and it had been a year of hell.
She didn't tell him any of that. Instead she shrugged and said, "You know how it is. A person can get along without it, but to have all the right contacts you have to attend the university." She didn't have to elaborate on which university, because Webb had gone to the same one.
"Did you do the sorority bit?"
"It was expected."
A reluctant grin tugged at his mouth.
"I can't see you as a Greek. How did you get along with the little society snobs?"
"Fine." They had, in fact, been kind to her. It was they who had taught her how to dress, how to apply makeup, how to make social chitchat. She rather thought they had seen her as a challenge and taken her on as a makeover project.
The waitress approached with three plates of steaming hot food. She slid two plates in front of Webb and the remaining one in front of Roanna.
"Yell when you need a refill," she said comfortably, and left them alone.
Webb applied himself to his food, buttering the pancakes
and soaking them in syrup, then liberally salting and peppering his eggs. The slab of ham covered half the plate. Roanna looked at the mountain of food, then at his steely body. She tried to imagine the amount of physical labor that required that many calories, and felt an even deeper sense of respect for him.
"Eat," he growled.
She picked up her fork and obeyed. Once she couldn't have managed it, but keeping her emotions controlled had allowed her stomach to settle down. The trick was to take her time and take tiny bites. Usually, by the time everyone else had finished their meal she had managed to eat half of hers, and that was enough.
That was the case this time, too. When Webb leaned back, replete, Roanna laid her fork aside. He gave her plate a long, hard look as if calculating exactly how much she'd eaten, but to her relief he decided not to push it.
Breakfast taken care of, he drove her to the bar. The rental car sat forlornly in the parking lot, looking abandoned and out of place. A CLOSED sign hung lopsidedly on the front door of the bar. In daylight, the building was even more ramshackle than it had appeared the night before.
Dust flew around the truck as he braked to a stop, and Roanna allowed the gritty cloud to settle while she fished the ignition key out of her purse.
"Thanks for breakfast," she said as she opened the door and slid out.
"I'll tell Lucinda to expect you."
He got out of the truck and walked over to the rental car with her, standing right beside the door so she couldn't open it.
"About last night," he said.
Dread filled her. God, she couldn't listen to this. She put the key in the lock and turned it, hoping he would take the hint and move. He didn't.
"What about it?" she managed to say without any expression in her voice.
"It shouldn't have happened."
She bent her head. It was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and he wished it hadn't.
"God damn it, look at me!" Just as he had the night before, he cupped her chin in his hand and lifted her head so that she faced him. His hat was pulled low on his forehead, shadowing his eyes, but she could still see the grimness in them and in the line of his mouth. Very gently, he touched her lips with his thumb.
"I wasn't exactly drunk, but I'd had too much to drink. You were a virgin. I shouldn't have made that a condition to going back, and I regret what I did to you."
Roanna held her spine very straight and still.
"It was as much my responsibility as yours."
"Not quite. You didn't know exactly what you were getting into. On the other hand, I did know that you wouldn't turn me down."
She couldn't escape that hard, green gaze. This was very like the night before when she had stripped herself naked in front of him, except now she was emotionally naked. Her lower lip trembled, and she quickly controlled it. There was no point in denying what he'd said, because her actions had already proved him right. When he had given her the opportunity to call a stop to what was happening, she had begged him to continue.
"It's never been a secret how I feel about you," she finally said.
"All you had to do at any time was snap your fingers, and I'd have come running and let you do anything you wanted to me." She managed a smile. It wasn't much of one, but it was better than weeping.
"That hasn't changed." He searched her face, trying to pierce the remoteness of her expression. A kind of angry frustration flashed in his eyes.
"I just wanted you to know that my return doesn't depend on your sleeping with me. You don't have to turn yourself into a whore to make sure Lucinda gets what she wants."