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Come back, she wanted to cry out, so much so that she had to practically stuff the words down inside herself. It would only show that she was weak-minded when it came to him. And she had no intention of allowing Hunter to see how deeply he affected her.

“T-They’ll wonder why you didn’t stay for dessert,” she said in a trembling voice, her mouth still tingling from his blistering kisses and the warmth of his fingertips against her skin.

He moved back toward her so that he was a few inches away from her. Hunter’s lips tilted upwards in a lazy smile as he reached out and trailed his finger up and down her lips. “Tell em I’ve already had my dessert,” Hunter said dryly as he treated her to a pearly smile before walking off into the darkness.

Olivia wrapped her arms around her middle and stared out into the pitch black, the sound of Hunter’s whistling echoing through the stillness of the autumn evening. She raised her hands to her swollen lips and shuddered at the memory of Hunter’s soul stirring kisses.

She felt as vibrantly alive as she’d ever felt in her life. Every single nerve ending on her body hummed and buzzed. His kiss had left her weak in the knees and dizzy. Olivia fanned her flushed cheeks with her hand and let out a deep sigh. At the moment she felt as if she could do anything due to the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She could climb the highest mountain or jump out of a plane, only to keep feeling the dizzying swirl of emotions he incited. Being with Hunter was like riding the crest of a wave or reaching the peak of a roller coaster and then free-falling. He was all raw energy and excitement and unpredictability.

It must be contagious, she thought. If not, then why was her heart racing like an out-of-control thoroughbred after winning the Kentucky Derby? When was the last time she'd felt like this? She knew the answer to her own question – the last time she'd felt this vibrant was back when she’d been Hunter's girl.

Olivia twirled around the porch like a ballerina, her body feeling light and airy as she relived the events of the last few moments. Hunter had kissed her. Like a man kisses a woman. He hadn't treated her like a piece of rare porcelain the way some of her other boyfriends had in the past. To them she was an extension of her father; She was the sheltered daughter of a very important businessman whom they wanted to impress. In their eyes she wasn't a person separate and apart from him. She wasn't Olivia. She was Olivia Renault. And the truth was that none of them had ever truly wanted her without the trappings of the Renault wealth and status. They'd never really spent time getting to know her as a human being. It was the main reason she had never developed an interest in Marcus. His ambitions were stamped all over him like a price tag.

Hunter was different, she realized with a smile. They shared a past, a history that bound them together by childhood memories and shared experiences. He had never cared about her father’s riches. He may have been humbled by the Renault wealth, but he had never sought to use her for it. They were two pieces of a vast, rich puzzle. His return had changed everything! After so many years of feeling a little empty inside, Olivia finally felt as if she was coming back to life.

**

Olivia awoke the next morning having slept fitfully throughout the night. Dreams of Hunter had filled her head during the night. In one of her dreams they’d been enjoying a summer picnic out by the river. He’d been reading to her from a poetry book, which had been super romantic. The sound of music had drifted through the area. She’d woken up just as Hunter had dipped his head down to place a lingering kiss on her lips.

Just the thought of it caused a warm heat to rise in her cheeks. Handsome, brilliant, charming Hunter. Like a fine wine, the man had gotten better with age. She let out a ragged sigh. And he was still as appealing as ever. She closed her eyes as memories of last night's tender kiss came flooding back to her – the warmth of his lips, the heat of his touch as his fingers practically scorched her skin. Her pulse quickened as she remembered how much she'd wanted the kiss to go on forever.

After taking a quick shower and getting dressed, she quickly styled her hair in a low ponytail and headed downstairs. She'd made a point to take off her pearl earrings, diamond cross necklace and the fancy watch, all items she'd inherited from her mother. Today she was volunteering at the youth center and she always tried to be very low-key in her appearance and her attitude. The kids at the center didn't need to have it thrown in their faces that they couldn't afford luxury items such as designer clothes or expensive jewelry. Things were hard enough in their lives without having to worry about what brand of jeans they were sporting or what logo was stamped on their sneakers. When she volunteered her time

at the center she wanted to be blend in with the kids and be on their level. There was no other way she could successfully connect with them and gain their confidence.

When she came downstairs her father was sitting at the dining room table, his brow furrowed in concentration as he looked over his account balances. It had been his habit to do this each and every morning over breakfast for as long as she could remember. Rascal was curled up into a ball at his feet, enjoying a calm moment in his doggy bed. Her father had his laptop propped next to him on the table and he was staring at the screen with a look of intense concentration and determination on his face. His glasses were perched at the end of his nose, and for the first time in her life he seemed vulnerable. Older.

He was no longer the invincible Daddy she'd grown up idolizing. He was a flesh and blood man, one who appeared to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. Along with her mother's death had come the knowledge that tomorrows are never promised. It terrified her to think that his financial difficulties might be impacting his health.

“Good morning, Daddy. How are you?” She leaned over and placed a kiss on her father's cheek, inhaling the woodsy scent of his aftershave that took her all the way back to childhood. On many occasions she'd planted herself in her father's bathroom and watched as he performed his shaving ritual. Those moments had bonded them as father and daughter, allowing them to connect on an intimate level. And to this day, she adored the scent of cedar and musk.

He smiled at her wistfully, his eyes reflecting his bleak mood. “Morning, Sunshine,” he said with a deep sigh. He shook his head in disbelief. “I remember the days when the numbers made me smile.” He let out a puff of air then shook his head sadly. “It's going to take a miracle to hold on to Renault.”

Olivia furrowed her brow as she looked at her father. “I know things are bad, Daddy, but you shouldn't give up hope.”

“I haven't given up, but these numbers are pretty grim. The business is in the toilet. It just doesn't want to bounce back.” He gazed at his daughter sadly, then quickly changed gears, sounding more confident as he said, “That being said, at least Marcus is confident we can ride out this storm. He’s giving me a sliver of something to hold on to.”

“He is?” Olivia asked doubtfully. “I know you've promoted him to second in command, but he still has a lot to learn about the business. He doesn't even have his feet wet as of yet. Make sure you trust your own instincts. You've been in business a long time.”

Jack stroked the hair on his chin and shook his head regretfully. “At the risk of having you think your old man is a fool, I must admit when I promoted him I thought the two of you were on your way to becoming engaged.”

Olivia placed her hand over her father's large, wrinkled hand, her voice filled with kindness as she said, “I know you were hoping we would make a life together, but the chemistry just isn't there. I enjoy Marcus' friendship, but we're not going to walk down the aisle anytime in this lifetime.”

“Chemistry?” Jack scoffed. “There's other things to consider than chemistry.”

She tweaked her father's cheek, then smiled at him impishly. “I want what you had with Mama. A soul connection. I want everything – the sweaty palms, the goosebumps, thinking about him whenever we're not together.”

Her father's brows were knit together as a look of confusion passed over his face. “And he doesn't make you feel those things?”

Olivia shook her head and said in a soft voice, “No, he doesn't. Not even a little bit.”

He let out a tremendous sigh. “Forgive your old man for being a hopeless romantic. I thought love would grow between the two of you.”

Olivia felt a pang of intense love for her father, who'd always wanted good things for his only child. “There's nothing to forgive,” she said quickly. “I know you only want what's best for me. Always.”

“Join me for breakfast, baby girl. I need to stop looking at these numbers before I explode.” He logged out from his computer and closed it, then motioned for her to join him at the table.

“Not today, Daddy. I gotta go. They're expecting me at the center.”

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