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I certainly was.
As I took another sip of wine, I still wasn’t certain why I’d felt compelled to attend the service at all. We’d never had a relationship of any kind, but the last few years had left me empty inside. I was no fool. My father had tossed away his dignity and his honor, becoming nothing better than a common criminal. He’d done so without reservation, lured by power and greed.
I’d wanted no part of it for years and I still didn’t.
However, I felt guilty and there was no decent reason why. He’d never been a part of my life, leaving my mother when I was barely two years old. There’d been no birthday cards, no holiday presents. He hadn’t attended my high school or college graduations. By the time he’d started writing letters, I couldn’t care less about why he’d left us. I’d returned them unopened. In my mind, he’d been dead a long time.
But reality was entirely different than I’d expected.
Exhaling, I glanced out the window, watching as the serene beauty of the countryside rolled by in glorious shades of forest green and cerulean blue, the train rolling across a dazzling river as the sun began to dip below the horizon. Even the stunning colors of tangerine and fuchsia didn’t seem to put a smile on my face. I’d hoped the time spent by myself would ease the pain, but after a few hours, I was beginning to wonder if anything could erase the ugliness of the past few days. The ache of remorse was more intense than I’d suspected.
As the last conversation I’d had with him filtered into my mind, I’d already begun to question my coldness, the hatred I’d exhibited.
“I’m not going to come see you, Theodore. You don’t exist to me,” I had snarled, ready to end the call.How he’d gotten my number in the first place I didn’t know, nor did I care. Somehow, he’d known I was on a business trip to LA.
“I’m still your father!”His voice had been strained but I hadn’t cared. He was still dead to me.
“No, you stopped being my father a long time ago. Please don’t call me again.”
“Wait!”He’d issued the single word with such urgency that I’d hesitated instead of hanging up on him.
“What?”
“You need to know I have some things for you.”
“I don’t want your money. It’s blood money.”
He’d moaned, which wasn’t like him. “Please listen to me. I sent you something. You’ll know what to do with it.”
“Did you not hear me? I don’t want to have anything to do with you.”
“There are some irreputable people hunting for me. Be careful with the information I sent you. But you’re a smart girl. You’re my beautiful daughter and I love you.”
I’d ended the call after that, refusing to listen to his ramblings.
Less than two days later, I’d gotten the call he was dead. Sighing, I closed my eyes briefly, allowing the lull of the train to remind me that I’d given myself a gift after the wretched week I’d had. A vacation. I was sitting on a luxury train headed for Florida while my father was already rotting in his grave.
Did that make me a terrible person?
I forced myself to return to my iPad, reading another page then laughing when I couldn’t remember a thing. Had he thrust his cock inside her wet pussy yet? Oh, who cared? My attention was caught when a man walked in through the door on the opposite side, sweeping his gaze across the crowded train car.
Something dark and dangerously close to arousal sparked every synapse, my panties instantly damp. I’d never had such a strong reaction to a man before. Maybe it was the wine. Or perhaps the loneliness of the past few years had finally filtered into my conscious mind.
It was difficult not to stare at him as he spoke with one of the conductors. His shoulders were broad, so wide they filled the doorway. His hair was obsidian black, so thick all I could think about was running my fingers through the long, wavy strands. As the train rolled over a rough patch of tracks, the deep rumble in my stomach was followed by it taking a deep dive, dozens of butterflies swarming.
The man had a formidable presence about him even from this distance, his massive frame intimidating. I had a sense he commanded any room he walked into without uttering a word. I shifted in my seat, suddenly more uncomfortable than I’d been in a long time. It was hard not to chastise my ridiculous, filthy thoughts. I’d fallen hard only once in my life, promising never to do so again. When he placed his hands on his hips, looking in my direction, I felt pinned to the chair.
Electricity crackled in the dense space as he dragged his eyes over me in a long, sweeping move. I could swear his eyes were glistening but that was impossible from such a distance. And if I didn’t know better, I’d say his thoughts mirrored mine, ones of unbridled lust mixed with a hint of danger. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I purposely returned my eyes to the book, holding my breath even as I sensed him walking in my direction.
“Is this seat taken?” The voice was dark, a deep baritone that managed to send butterflies swarming into my stomach.
As I lifted my gaze, I was taken aback by his seductive prowess. The man oozed of power and control as well as a dangerous volatility that momentarily stole my breath. He was insanely gorgeous, more so up close. He offered a smile that screamed of passion and romance, a hint of salacious darkness.
A tall, dark, and extremely handsome stranger. No, he wasn’t just handsome. He was beautiful in a way that immediately sent a tremor of heat between my legs. The sensation was unusual, creating a slight wash of embarrassment tickling my cheeks.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?”
Heat curled through my senses as he lowered his voracious eyes, lingering on my breasts before dragging them from one side of my jaw to the other. When he finally returned them to my eyes, I realized my hands were trembling. The experience was both scintillating and for a brief few seconds utterly terrifying.
