Finding Perfect (Fool's Gold #3)(38)
He rolled toward her. His handsome face came into view, along with a bit of bare shoulder. His skin had a golden cast and looked as good as it tasted. Talk about temptation. She was exhausted and still shuddering through her recovery, but the thought of being with him again was enough to cause her nerve endings to cheer.
“You okay?” he asked.
She managed a smile. “Fishing for compliments?”
“Maybe.”
“The earth didn’t just move—it did a two-and-a-half somersault with a twist.”
“Good.” He brushed the hair off her face, then lightly kissed her. “Can I stay?”
She swore softly. Of course he would ask to stay. Because he was perfect. Funny, smart, good-looking, great in bed and sensitive. Oh, and rich. The man had money. So why wasn’t he involved with someone? Why wasn’t he married? She knew there was a divorce in his past, but why hadn’t some enterprising woman snapped him up?
Not that she cared, she reminded herself. She had embryos to worry about.
“Earth to Pia,” he said, still gazing down at her.
“You can stay,” she whispered.
Under normal circumstances she would have forced him out in the name of self-preservation. Having him around could be dangerous to her heart. But that wasn’t going to be an issue. In a few days, she would return to her doctor’s office and possibly be implanted with Crystal’s embryos. Then she would be pregnant. Falling in love wasn’t going to happen to her—at least not in the romantic sense. No guy would be interested in a woman with three kids who weren’t even hers, and she couldn’t imagine having even an extra ounce of energy left over for anything close to dating.
So it was perfectly safe to roll on her side and have him slide in next to her. She snuggled against his warm body, feeling his strong arms circle her waist and pull her close. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to believe it was all real. At least for tonight. No matter what, she could count on reality to return in the morning.
FOOL’S GOLD HIGH SCHOOL sat above town on the road that led up to the ski resort. The campus was only about five years old, with a state-of-the-art science building, a large stadium and an auditorium that held five hundred.
Raoul stood onstage, facing the students filling every seat. He’d pushed aside the podium, preferring to walk back and forth.
“I didn’t start out rich and famous,” he told the kids. “When I was your age, I was in foster care, fighting the system responsible for feeding and clothing me. I knew no one cared about me. Not as a person. I was a case number to the social worker and steady income for my foster family.”
He paused and met the gaze of several of the younger guys in the audience.
“Some families really do care about the kids they take in, and I applaud them. I’ve heard the stories, but I didn’t see it much in action. The social workers I knew were overworked. They tried their best, but they weren’t given the tools or the resources. So I got involved in some things that I should have avoided.”
He walked to the edge of the stage and stared out at the students. “Gangs can look pretty good from afar. They give you a place to belong. You get status from being with the right crowd. You’re around people who accept you. If they’re crazy enough, you never know what’s going to happen next and that can be fun, too.”
He shrugged. “It can also leave you worse off than you ever thought. Pregnant. In jail. Or dead.” He let the words hang there for a long time.
“When you’re sixteen, the future seems a long way away, but I’m here to tell you the value of thinking long term. Of knowing what you want and going after it, regardless of how many people tell you it’s not possible. I spent the first few months of my senior year homeless, living in an abandoned building. I had friends who helped out, but what made the biggest difference was I found someone who could believe in me. And he taught me to believe in myself. That’s what you have to do. Believe you can make it.”
He crossed to the other side of the stage and looked out at those kids. “The dictionary tells us a mentor is a trusted coach or a guide. Be what you want to see in someone else. Find a younger kid and get involved. It’s like throwing a rock in a lake. The ripples stretch out forever.”
He talked a little more about the importance of doing the right thing, then said he would answer questions.
There were the usual ones about playing for the Cowboys and what it had been like to take his college team through two undefeated seasons.
“I didn’t do it,” he told them honestly. “I was one member of an excellent team. Everyone did his part and that’s why we won. Football isn’t golf. It’s not just you and the ball. It’s everyone around you. Any team is only as strong as its weakest player.”
A small girl in the third row raised her hand.
He pointed to her. “Yes?”
“Have you ever been a Big Brother? My uncle has a boy he’s been helping for a couple of years now.”
“Good for him,” Raoul said. “As for being a Big Brother, it’s hard for a guy like me to help someone one-on-one. The media finds out and it gets messy. So I give back this way—talking to schools, sharing ideas, working with teachers.”
He rattled on for a couple more minutes and was relieved that the students seemed to buy it and the teachers in the room were nodding.