Rose’s face flitted across his mind again.
My woman. Yes, goddammit, she is. And when I’m finished here, I’m going to return to her. Because I fucking need her.
Chapter Nine
Rose crossed the bedroom from the bed to the chair. She probably paced this stretch of carpet a hundred times a day. While she was given free run of the house by the kind couple providing her safety, she found herself shutting the door.
The blue armchair offered a comforting hug in her rough moments, and that borrowed pillow had sopped up plenty of tears. A life on hold was hardly any life at all.
With children, her routine became a part of life she welcomed. She loved her work and the few colleagues she called friends. She looked forward to her small luxuries in life—a bimonthly massage, the occasional facial. And of course, she treasured the almost daily video calls with her boys. She missed them with a pain like a toothache, constant and nagging.
She sank to the chair, drew her legs up and rested her cheek on her knee. Last night’s dream webbed through her mind, catching every last thought and emotion about Oz. In her weakest moments she dreamed of him holding her, nothing more. But that soul-deep bond of intimacy left her craving him.
Her days all blended, and if she hadn’t made an effort to count how long she’d been here, she would have no idea.
Along with the longing she felt for Oz came an anger with the strength of a hurricane wind. She felt stupid to let him back into her heart, and now she suffered the consequences. The loss tangled with the fear she’d never see him again.
A tear trickled from the corner of her eye, and she dashed it away. No more tears for that man. He made it clear that she didn’t mean anything to him—then or now. Why should she waste any more time on him?
She issued a heavy sigh and closed her eyes. In her worst times, she meditated on all the good in her life. Conjuring her boys was as easy as breathing. After she got out of here, she’d head to Virginia and throw her arms around them. Just the thought of breathing in their scents and feeling them in her arms again soothed her.
Then she would see if they could go for a long weekend to visit her father. What she needed more than anything right now was family around her. Her daddy knew Oz had rescued her from the kidnappers, but he must be going mad with questions right now.
Unless Oz continued to communicate with him.
That angered her further. She’d been too passive in all of this, allowing things to happen to her instead of taking the action for herself. And she’d been so swept away in loving Oz again that somehow the danger became secondary to the affair. How stupid.
She opened her eyes and stared at the room. The familiar space contained a patterned blue quilt on the bed and a stack of books on a wooden nightstand that she didn’t have any energy to read. The room would forever be ingrained into her mind as her refuge in a dark time. What happened after this? Did she send the Warrens a card on Christmas along with a fruit basket? Or did she simply slip out of their lives as quickly as she walked in?
Great—now her mind played tricks on her. That deep sound coming from someplace in the house sounded like Oz.
She scowled at the door. And that was how he found her.
He filled the whole doorway with his huge muscled form. “Come with me, Rose.”
She jumped to her feet. Was he a hallucination? Maybe days of sequestering herself in this room, alone, had ripped away her sanity.
He reached out to her, a dark glint in his eyes. “Come on, sweetheart.”
He’s really here.
Pulling up straight, she folded her arms. “You can’t just walk in here and give me commands. I’m not your dog.”
The mask he wore fell away, leaving behind a face creased by pain.
Terror rushed her, and she stumbled forward to grasp his arm. “Oh God, is it the boys? My boys?”
His expression blanked. “What?”
She spun away, mind whirling. He seemed confused by her question, which meant her boys were all right. Safe. Whole.
Her legs wobbled, and she sat down on the mattress. When she dropped her face into her hands and let out a sob of pure relief, Oz sank to one knee in front of her. He rested his hand on her thigh.
“Hell, Rose. What’s going on? You have sons?”
A noisy cry left her, and she battled down another. She nodded in answer.
Gently, he pulled her hand away from her face and looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry. You must be worried sick about them. But why didn’t I know about them? There’s nothing in your human footprint to indicate you have kids.”
“I…know,” she choked out. “My father locked all that down.”
Shock tore through his eyes. “Why would he do that?”
“To keep them from being found.” She had to tell him the truth. Now she saw that Oz deserved to know, even if he never wanted to. He couldn’t go to his grave not knowing about the two amazing boys he’d fathered. And it wouldn’t be fair to take that secret with her if something happened to her.
She stared at him for a long, silent heartbeat. “Oz.”
He gazed back, waiting.
“They’re your sons too.”
He didn’t move, speak or blink. “What?” came as a hot whisper from his hard lips.
“That night in the garden.”
“You said you were on the pill.”
She spread out her hands. “I guess that failed.”
“But…no. That’s not possible. How many sons do you have?”
“Two. Twins, Oz. You left me with twins that night.”
He shoved to his feet and in one long stride, moved to the opposite wall. “No fucking way.”
Unsteadily, she stood. “It’s true.”
“No. I don’t believe it, Rose. You would have told me.”
She spread her hands. “You told me to take care of any product of our stolen moments in the garden. When I found out I was pregnant, I just couldn’t.”
The color drained from his face, making his dark hair stand out in sharp contrast. He shook his head. “No,” he said again.
Her heart tumbled with feeling for him. What he must be experiencing right this minute…
When she crossed to him and took hold of his hand, she looked up into his eyes. “It’s true, Oz. I didn’t want you to find out this way.”
“Goddammit.” He ripped his hand from her grasp. “You didn’t intend for me to find out at all!”
Anger, so near the surface, boiled over. She cocked her head. “You told me you didn’t want a wife or family! You told me to abort any child that might have been an accident from that night!”
“Jesus Christ.” He smashed a hand over his eyes and ran it up through his hair. “You kept this from me.”
“What choice did I have? If I had called you up after I found out I was pregnant and told you, what would you have said?”
He remained silent.
She nodded. “That’s what I thought. And then I couldn’t even find you for years and years. I looked, Oz. I tried to track you down, but you were off the radar, and now I know why.”
He twisted away from her angry words and her glare. His chest heaved.
She tried to reel in her strongest emotions and put herself in his shoes. Of course he was shocked, angry and hurt. He deserved to feel all that, and she felt partially to blame. She could have tried harder to find him and tell him. If she’d insisted, her father would have located Oz anywhere, even if he’d been sent to the moon.