All I Want Is You (Kimani Romance) by Dara Girard Page B

and his sometimes volatile moods was enough for her. Her sister was wrong. Delong loved her. He was a genius whose life was just as much his art as his work. She didn’t care what color he painted the walls or what furniture he bought. He took good care of her and life was perfect.
    “Just let me decorate one room for you,” Nikki said.
    “All right,” Monica replied, knowing that her sister, a top interior designer, wanted to do something special for her. Delong was in Venezuela, so Nikki could make changes without interference.
    Monica allowed her sister to redecorate a small room near the back of the house in sweeping colors. Monica loved it. Delong didn’t. He never said so, but his silence was eloquent enough. Within a week of his return, Delong found a better use for the room. He used it to store his sculptures. And he didn’t stop until every hint of Nikki’s original design was gone.
    “That bastard,” Nikki said when she saw the room later that year. “Your one little corner in this mausoleum and he took it.”
    “It wasn’t deliberate,” Monica said with a tired sigh, not understanding her sister’s anger. It was just a room. She had plenty of others.
    “Yes, it was. He has to be the center of everything.”
    “I don’t know why you don’t like him.”
    Nikki turned away. “And I don’t know why you do.”
    Her sister had left angry that day, and at the funeral their meeting had been strained. Nikki tried but couldn’t hide her relief that he was gone, and that hurt Monica. She’d wanted someone to share his memory with, but her parents were dead. They’d had the two of them later in life and had passed away in their late seventies. They’d lived long enough to see Monica married and her career take off. They were proud and happy for her. Nikki wasn’t, and that sore spot hadn’t healed.
    Monica looked around her bedroom with its simple decor. Delong would think that it was ugly and plain, and he’d think the same of the disguise she now wore. But it felt right. For a moment she wondered what Nikki would do to the room and what creative magic she would work in this small space. She missed her. It had taken time, but she now understood why her sister had so fiercely wanted her to have her own room. But she’d been so used to being an extension of someone else it had never crossed her mind to have something of her own. Now she wanted that and couldn’t.
    The farmhouse wasn’t her home. Would any place ever be truly hers? She closed the window, as if doing so also shut out her past, and for the next hour and a half Monica worked in her studio. She stopped when she heard a car drive up.
    She looked out her window and saw JD get out of the car. Her curiosity grew. What was he doing home already? She glanced at her watch and frowned. There was no way he could have done dinner and a movie in that short amount of time. What had happened? Sheturned from the window and shook her head. It was none of her business. What he did in his spare time didn’t matter to her. But although she tried to focus on her work, her curiosity about his unexpected return wouldn’t disappear. Resigned, Monica went downstairs just in time to see JD refilling Baxter’s water bowl.
    “Wasn’t the movie any good?” she asked him.
    JD looked up, surprised to see her. She didn’t blame him. Except for cursory remarks like “hi” or “good morning,” she hadn’t engaged him in conversation.
    “Gran wasn’t feeling well so I just ordered something in then played for her.”
    “Played for her? What did you play?”
    He folded his arms and a slow smile touched his lips. “I’ll tell you if you’ll show me your studio.”
    Damn, he hadn’t forgotten. “I’m not that interested.”
    JD shrugged then went into the family room. Monica swore because she knew that he’d gotten her. Her imagination would race until she discovered what he’d played for his grandmother. She reluctantly followed him into the other