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He harbored no illusions about the fall out. It would be brutal. Earth shattering. And some might perceive him in a negative light.
Hunter frowned as his mother’s image popped into his mind. Mama would be furious when she discovered what he’d done. But there was no way he was going to let his mother guilt him into changing the course he'd set out on. It was far too late for that. Once he set his mind on acquiring a corporation, there was nothing in this world that could stop him from achieving his goal. Acquiring Renault Industries was part of his destiny, and he had no intention of messing with fate's plans. Who was he to mess with destiny’s grand design?
He took a step backward from Olivia, his eyes roaming with appreciation all over her face. As a man who surrounded himself with the most beautiful women in the world, he had a true appreciation for spectacular women. Olivia was in a class all of her own. Her beauty was luminous. At the same time there was something old fashioned about her appearance. She was a timeless beauty.
“The years have been very kind to you. You could give top models a run for their money,” he said with a cheeky grin.
Olivia shook her head and wagged her finger at him. “After all these years you’re still full of compliments. You always were the biggest flirt in town,” she said with a laugh. “You had all the girls wrapped around your little finger.”
Except you, he wanted to say. You made me work for it.
He stared at her intently, hesitant to darken the mood, but knowing certain things had to be said. “I was sorry to hear about your Mama. She was a good woman.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. “Not a day goes by that I don't miss her.”
Upon hearing his condolences, a look of sadness flitted across Olivia’s face, quickly replaced by a poised expression that reflected no emotion. Hunter had the feeling Olivia had used this placid expression countless times in order to hide her true feelings. It was a cover, he suspected. A mask she wore to hide what lay underneath. Hunter knew Olivia well enough to know she was sentimental. She’d been the girl who had cried over boys stomping on spiders and crushing ants. He imagined her mother’s death had rocked her world.
Although Hunter didn’t know the particulars of Gigi Renault’s death, the Savannah Gazette had indicated in the obituary that she had succumbed to “a long illness.” That had been roughly two years ago. A burst of sympathy flared within Hunter as he recalled the tangled emotions he'd felt after his father’s sudden passing, the strongest of which had been guilt. What raw emotions were roiling around beneath Olivia’s calm surface? He knew from his own personal experience with her that Olivia Renault was a spectacular woman; Her flame burned brighter than the sun when she allowed it to shine.
“Come to dinner tonight,” Olivia suggested. “Your mother will be here dining with us. Sadie too. Your brothers can't make it. I’m preparing the whole meal myself.”
“Can you cook any?” Hunter asked with a laugh. Images of Olivia burning down the kitchen danced in his head. He couldn’t remember a time when the Renaults hadn’t relied on their beloved cook, Fannie Mae, for all their culinary needs. Then again, Fannie Mae would be pushing eighty-five years old or so by now, a few years too old to be running a household. Clearly, a lot had changed since he’d left Savannah!
Olivia visibly bristled at his laughter. “Of course I can cook. I've been taking care of Daddy since Mama passed on. Before she died Mama taught me all her secret recipes.” Although she smiled there was a hint of sadness in her eyes as she said, “Some of my best memories are of Mama teaching me how to make her Southern fried catfish, cinnamon apple pie, corn fritters and a hundred other mouth-watering delights. Even though she was sick, she took it upon herself to make sure her recipes were passed on through the family. It was a wonderful gift.”
“I always liked your Mama. Even as a kid I remember thinking she didn't take herself too seriously.” He smirked at the memory of Gigi Renault dressing down some of the society ladies who were gossiping about one of the eligible widowers in town. “She was a spirited, God-fearing woman, that's for sure. One of a kind.”
“Yes, she was. And gone too soon,” she murmured as a look of sorrow flitted across her face, quickly replaced by a steady smile.
“What're you fixing to serve tonight?” Hunter asked as he licked his lips in anticipation. Just the thought of a home cooked southern meal was making his stomach grumble.
“Brisket, Southern fr
ied chicken, dumplings, collard greens, cornbread, mashed potatoes and a mango bean salad.” Olivia rattled off the menu with ease. at all. “And,” Olivia added with a grin, “I'm serving peach cobbler for dessert.”
Hunter was practically drooling. “Well then, I guess I’ll see you tonight. I need to go see Mama before she sends out a search party.”
Olivia smiled at him. “I imagine she’s excited to see you. It’s been a long time since you’ve been back home, Hunter.
Hunter nodded. “It’s nice to be back, Olivia.”
“See you tonight,” Olivia said with a little wave as he headed towards his motorcycle and hopped on. With one last lingering look at Olivia, he roared off towards home and a reunion with his family.
**
As Hunter roared away on his fancy Kawasaki, Olivia couldn’t help but relive the past. Ten years ago she'd stood in this very spot and raged against the young man she loved as he sped out of town and towards a new life that didn't include her. Tears pooled in her eyes as the memory of Hunter’s desertion came tumbling into the present; All the old insecurities rose up inside her, leaving her feeling cold, shaky and very alone. It almost felt as if she was reliving it all over again.
Back then it had felt like the end of the world, as if the very air she breathed was being cut off. She had loved him so fiercely, with all her heart and soul. Had Hunter stayed in Savannah, she would have fought tooth and nail to be his one and only. She would have strived hard to earn his love. He'd always had hers, ever since that moment in the moonlight when he'd imprinted himself on her soul.
And now, after coming face to face with him after so many years apart, she knew a part of her would always be drawn to this man. But, she couldn't afford to love him. The price of loving Hunter had been way too high, and she was never going down that dark road again. Loving him had brought her to her knees.
Olivia sucked in a deep breath. Time had done nothing to lessen his impact. Had he always been this tall, she wondered? He was over six feet she would guess. And his lean frame had filled out a bit, she noted, judging by the way he filled out his jeans and the broad swath of his shoulders. He was still as handsome as sin, with dark good looks that many a movie actor would envy. With skin the color of raw almonds, eyes as black as coal, chiseled facial features and a pair of dimples that would thaw any woman’s heart, he was a fine male specimen. He wore his hair low cut to his scalp in a tapered fade. The man was achingly handsome, she thought. Simply unforgettable.
And those lips! They'd once kissed her with such amazing tenderness. She had relived those kisses on many a lonely night. The memories had sustained her while she’d nursed a broken heart.
He'd changed though, she realized with a sinking heart. There was no more rough-around-the-edges in him. Despite his motorcycle and the casual clothing he was wearing, Hunter Rawlings exuded power and success. There was little trace of his southern accent in the way he clearly and perfectly enunciated his words. There was no sign of the vulnerable young man who had once sported the biggest chip in the world on his shoulders. Back then he'd vowed to rule the world one day. And now, for all intents and purposes, he did.
Clearly, Hunter had lived his life to the fullest, becoming polished and cultured along the way. Not to mention extremely wealthy. She'd heard all the gossip about him dating supermodels. She'd seen all the scandal rag pictures of Hunter basking on a pebbled beach in the South of France with an Academy Award winning actress. She could never compete with those women. It was clear he'd moved far beyond the youthful romance they'd shared back in the day.
