force your own beliefs or preferences on those who aren’t as fortunate. You can only offer them whatever you have. Some are on the streets because life has given them no other choices. Some are there because it is safer or more comfortable for them than the places they left behind.”
“Was she very young?” Royce asked.
“Twenty-six when she died.”
Royce couldn’t bring himself to ask the obvious question.
“She confided in Jasmine one night. She wanted so badly to have the child, but knew her health wasn’t all it should be. It took her a lot of courage to go to the doctor. By then, the cancer was too far advanced for treatment, even if they could have done anything while she was pregnant. When Jasmine offered to take her in, she agreed with great reluctance. She’d been on the streets so long, but she knew she had to overcome her fears for her baby to live.”
“So she lived with Jasmine’s family before the birth?”
“And after,” Francis confirmed. “Her health declined rapidly. But she was smart enough to make sure Rosie wouldn’t end up on the streets. They’d barely finished the adoption process before she died.”
Jasmine glanced their way. Her smile here had a different, softer quality. Instead of the take-charge woman he’d butted heads with, in this environment, her leadership abilities seemed to be subdued under a layer of compassion.
Francis cleared his throat, reengaging Royce’s attention. “All that to say, Jasmine has volunteered here for years, but she’s also changed her entire life to take care of someone in need. There’s no doubt she loves Rosie. Her entire family loves her. But it was, and is, a huge sacrifice in one so young.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Royce asked. After all, this was technically a business meeting.
Francis studied him for a long moment, a slight smile on his face. “Call it intuition or the prompting of the Spirit, but something tells me you need to know. Even if Jasmine is just your event planner.”
Why did that last statement sound more like a question to Royce? And why was he trying to fool himself into thinking he wasn’t interested?
“What about the children here?” Royce asked, eager to change the subject. He thought back to the boys in the gym. He hadn’t failed to notice the worn lettering on their clothes and thinness of the soles on their shoes—and remembered the years that his own clothes had looked the same. “Is there anything special they need?”
“Right now, just the usual things that they always need. We have families who fund scholarships for some of our regulars in the after-school programs for disadvantaged families. Those scholarships and donors are coordinated by the Jefferson family from Savannah.”
The Jeffersons. Instead of filing that detail away to use to his own advantage, Royce felt gratitude wash over him. They were doing so much for these kids. How much of a difference would it have made to him, to his mother, if he’d had the opportunity to participate in an after-school program like they offered here?
“We do have some other special programs we would love funding for, but I don’t want to appear greedy.”
Royce waved away his words. “It’s not greedy when I asked. I’ll have my assistant contact you for more information, okay?”
Francis nodded. “Thank you again.”
“It’s my pleasure.” And Royce had a feeling he was going to have to admit to Jasmine that he’d changed his point of view. He wanted to be more involved in this charity event now. That had probably been her whole point in bringing him here: educating him for far more than just being able to talk knowledgably about his event’s charity.
She’d done a thorough job of it, too.
Sure enough, they’d barely made it to the sidewalk in front of the cars when she paused and said, “Not as bad as you thought, was it?”
He turned to face her where she leaned against the moss-covered retaining wall. “You enjoy being right, don’t you.”
“Only with you.” She grinned, her sassy joy drawing him out of his shell and into the sheer life she exuded. He found he was beginning to like her energy and enthusiasm—very much.
He shook his head, knowing he was going crazy. But for once, he didn’t care about losing control. “You’re incredible, you know?”
“Not really.”
Royce leaned in close, propping one hand against the wall next to her glossy black hair. He swallowed hard against the emotions welling up despite himself. “To prove to my father that my life was worth something, I pursued wealth that would far surpass his.”
For the first time, he let himself reach over and touch her thick hair. “To prove that life was still worth living after your parents died, you dedicated yourself to your family and taking care of others.”
He stepped closer, bringing their bodies together even though he knew he shouldn’t. “In the eyes of most people, that’s incredible. Especially me.”
Then Royce let his logical brain take a hike and brought his lips down on hers. Her taste was just as exotic as her name. Royce’s craving shifted into overdrive.
If he’d thought it would just be a quick peck, he was mistaken. Instead, his body pressed closer. His mouth opened over hers. Her lips left a slightly sweet taste on his tongue, but it was the heat inside that he sought.
The catch of her breath sent a streak of sensation through him. He wanted to explore all the ways he could make her react. All the hidden places on her body that would make her gasp and moan. But for now, he focused on the heat of her mouth and the sexiness of her response.
After long, exquisite moments, Royce forced himself to pull back. To regain control. To think about Jasmine instead of his own sorry self.
Which meant he couldn’t bring himself to look into those gorgeous blue eyes to see exactly how he’d ruined everything.
How in the world was she supposed to act after that kiss?
As Jasmine waited for Royce outside the nondescript building that housed one of the hottest restaurants in Savannah, she tried to shut her brain down. But the question wouldn’t go away.
Not even in the face of her curiosity about the restaurant. She’d never been to After Hours before today. Word in elite circles was that it was incredible, but Jasmine had never been able to afford to eat here. And, to her knowledge, they didn’t cater events, so she’d let it slide off her radar.
But Royce had insisted he knew exactly what he wanted done with the food for the charity event, and After Hours was it. Since she didn’t have to pry or coax the opinion from him, she’d let him lead.
“Are you ready?”
Jasmine jumped. Tightening her control, she forced herself to take a deep breath before turning toward Royce. “I’m not sure,” she admitted.
Instead
