Cleo looked up from the drawing in her hand. She felt a tear slip down her cheek. She shook her head, unable to speak.
“I remember every single minute of that night. After we made love, I realized I couldn’t walk away from you on Monday. I wanted you in my life, and I was struggling with how to convince you to give me a chance. I had to go to Wales, and I was going to ask you to come with me. I knew you had a passport. We’d gone casino hopping and had wandered onto Freemont Street. There were six newlywed couples there. We toasted their happiness and when you caught the bouquet, those silk roses in the picture, I saw it as an omen. I decided to ask you to marry me and figure out the rest of it later.”
As Sam spoke, he walked over and stood closer to her, his eyes intent on hers as if he could somehow force her mind to recollect the events. Bits and pieces of what he said seemed vaguely familiar.
“Do you remember any of it? I asked you to marry me, and you said you’d only marry for love. I told you I loved you, and you didn’t believe me. You told me not to tease you. I asked you again, and you asked me about all the women who threw themselves at me. I almost told you the truth then, but coward that I was, I said I loved you again and that I wasn’t complete without you.”
In that case … the words echoed in her mind.
The tears in his eyes spilled down his cheeks, “You finally said yes, and I kissed you in front of everyone. Our picture went up on the Vista screen for everyone in the area to see. Once you’d agreed, you didn’t care where we got married, but I wanted to make sure it was real and legal. I had Roy scrambling to find a real church-ordained minister, not a tacky wedding chapel with an Elvis lookalike in a bad toupee. It took almost an hour, but he found one. I was terrified you’d change your mind. He got the minster and his wife out of bed, and when you said “I do,” you made me the happiest man alive.”
He ran his hand through his hair and Cleo’s fingers itched to do the same. She looked down at the sketch. Was that really the way he’d seen her that night? Hope bloomed inside her.
“We went back to the room and celebrated with more champagne and made love into the early morning hours. When my wrist alarm went off, I had to leave you to make some business arrangements. That’s the only mistake I made. I should have stayed in bed with you. I married you because I wanted to. I loved you then, Cleo, and I love you now. You may not love me, but give me a chance to prove myself …” With every word he spoke, the ice that had been her heart thawed, and love filled her. Before he could finish what he was saying, Cleo flung herself into his arms.
“Oh, Sam, I do love you, and I’ve been so miserable.” Tears ran down her cheeks.
He pulled her close and captured her mouth with a desperation he couldn’t hide. She felt all the longing and love he was trying to convey, the love that had been there that night had she understood. She opened to him and poured her own emotions and pain into her response. When he picked her up and carried her over to the bed, she didn’t object.
Their coming together was cathartic, a hungry needy cleansing of all the pain of the past two months, and a promise of tomorrow together. When Sam buried himself in her, Cleo felt all the pain, agony, and despair vanish. Their bodies renewed the pledge they’d made weeks ago.
Sated, exhausted from weeks of poor sleep, they lay in one another’s arms and slumbered.
• • •
Sam awoke disoriented. Where was he? The memories of Cleo and their reunion came crashing back, and he smiled. He looked over at her side of the bed, and she was gone. He was about to go look for her when the door opened, and she entered carrying a tray. She placed it on the table near the bed and smiled at him.
“You’re awake. Charlie said you’d flown all night to get back.”
He sat up and moved up against the pillows and the headboard. “Come here, please? I need to touch you to make sure I’m not dreaming.”
She smiled and sat on the bed beside him. She looked so much better now than she had when he’d seen her earlier. Her eyes shone with happiness, and her face glowed.
He reached for her, kissed her softly, and felt bereft when she pulled away.
“I’m very real, Sam.”
“I’ve got something for you.” He got up and pulled the small red box out of his pants’ pocket. “I’d planned to give you this on our wedding day, before I told you the truth about who I was. I’ve been carrying them around ever since.”
Cleo opened the box and her eyes grew large. “Sam, they’re gorgeous. The emerald is the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.” She slipped the wedding band on her finger. “I kept the other one, but I couldn’t wear it—it turned my finger green.” She made a face.
“I know. Mine too.” He reached for her hand and kissed the ring, and then reached for the emerald and slid it in place.
“I love you. I don’t want to spend another second of my life without you.”
He reached for her and kissed her, but before he could take things one step further, Cleo moved away.
“We’re alone now; I asked Charlie and Mitch to leave. I promised to get you back to Vegas when you’re ready to go. I still owe you dinner—burgers as I recall. We still have things to talk about.”
His brow furrowed. What more could they have to discuss? Suddenly, it dawned on him.
“You’re not coming back to Vegas to stay, are you?”
“I can’t, Sam. I have a job here. I’m a teacher. I have a contract to honor.”
“My lawyers could get you out of it if you wanted them to.”
She stood and moved away from the bed.
“I’m sure they can, but I don’t want them to.” The stubborn set of her features told him this wasn’t an argument he’d win.
“Then, I’m not going either. You’re my wife, and I’m staying with you. In fact I’m staying right here in this bed.” He folded his arms across his chest mulishly.
Cleo laughed, that crisp, clean laugh he’d missed.
“You have to go, silly. You have an enterprise to run. People depend on you.”
“Someone else can do it. I want to stay with you. Don’t you want to give our marriage a chance?”
It would kill him if she said no. He held his breath waiting for her answer.
“Of course I do. I love you, Samuel James Mason the third, but I will honor my obligations just as you will take care of your responsibilities. Charlie says you have all kinds of projects in Europe, and there’s a subdivision in Carson City waiting for your go-ahead. You’ve got the solar farm to take care of, and apparently you’re also responsible for the green fields just beyond my back yard.
“My contract here runs until the end of February. After that, I’ll go wherever you want to take me, but until then, I’ll keep my word. Can you let me be my own person, Sam? I’m not a gold digger and it’ll be hard to accept your life but …”
He reached for her and pulled her into his arms and onto the bed with him. He kissed her hard, trying to show her how much she meant to him. He’d make love to her in an instant, but this had to be settled between them first. He released her mouth and cradled her.
“I never thought you were a gold digger. I don’t know why I didn’t tell you who I was. We’ll do it your way. Believe me, I can run my so-called empire right from this bed if I want to. We’ll stay here as long as you want. Come February, I’ll show you the world.”
She moved away from him, got up, and went to the tray.
“We might have to wait a few months to travel.”
She fanned her hand and in it were six white plastic sticks. It only took a second for the information to sink in.
“We’re going to have a baby?” He was stunned by the news. Had she planned to keep this from him?
“Yes. I just found out last week. I’ve never been too regular.”
He watched the color suffuse her face. “That’s why Mitch answered Charlie’s email. That’s why you wanted to see me.”
“Yes. I was sure once I’d proven i
t was your child, you’d want it. I was prepared to share him or her with you. I’d hoped we could be friends.”
He watched a wicked little smile twist her mouth as she peeled off the robe she was wearing, revealing her nakedness beneath it.
“Friendship would have been good, but this is so much better, don’t you think?”
She approached the bed and he reached for her, the woman he loved, the woman who carried his child.
“Sweetheart, you have no idea how much better it’s going to be.”
More from This Author
(From In Plain Sight by Susanne Matthews)
Misty Starr stared at herself in the full-length mirror in the small dressing room she shared with the other women in the cast and started to laugh, her voice as crisp and clear as a crystal bell. She shook her head from side to side in resignation.
“Martha has got to be kidding, right? I look like a beach cabana,” she said, referring to the deep pink and white, vertically striped robe she wore that hung far too loosely on her small frame. “I know Micah said I had to stand out, but is this really the look he was going for? I thought stripes were supposed to make you look taller.”
The costume consisted of a white under-tunic, covered by a long, striped robe, topped with a deep pink shawl that was meant to cover her head as well. Instead of being light and airy, the fabric used for the shawl was thick and stiff and did not sit well on the long, dark brown wig that covered her short hair. The wig itself was loose and had a tendency to slip, since Martha seemed unable to secure it tightly to her head. With the shawl pinned to the wig, the whole thing had a tendency to slide backward, and holding her head up so the whole mess didn’t slip off was a chore.
“Come on; it’s not that bad,” said Amber, one of the friends Misty had made since moving to Pine Falls who was currently trying valiantly not to laugh at her. “You look cute! I look like I’m wearing a beach towel, and a really ugly one at that.” The tight, narrow stripes in alternating shades of green, brown, mustard, and tan were not the nicest combination of colors, and the robe had a distinctly dowdy look to it.
“No one is going to take me seriously in this outfit,” said Misty. “Does she honestly think Mary Magdalene went around wearing pink stripes, looking like a hospital candy striper or an escapee from a clown convention? The only things missing are the big red shoes, the fright wig, and the rubber nose! They probably didn’t even have pink yarn for weaving back then. Why couldn’t she just let me wear navy or brown instead? At least your costume looks more like what I would have expected a disciple to wear — mine, not so much.” She turned away from the mirror just as a knock at the door announced company.
“Are you decent?”
“Yes!” shouted Amber. “We’re almost ready if you’ve come to chase us up the stairs.”
The door opened to reveal three people — Micah Jones, the director of the Pine Hill Community Theater Group, his wife, Laura, and an unknown man. With Micah in the lead, they entered the room.
Misty smiled at her friends and stared at what was by far the most striking man she’d ever seen. She felt the heat of desire curl in her stomach, a sensation she’d been certain she’d never feel again. This is a hell of a time to be dressed like this, she thought. The first man I’ve seen in five years that I find attractive and look at me. What I wore here was nothing special but at least it fit me properly.
Laura rushed to get into costume, while the men stood beside the door. Misty could see the male cast gathered outside in the hall. Whoever the unfamiliar man was, he was important to Micah, and that meant he was necessary for the production of the play. Maybe he was the unknown financial backer Micah had mentioned, the one who was covering the costs of the production so that all the money raised by the community could go to the local clinic.
The stranger was tall, well over six feet, with short, dark hair that curled at the neckline, attesting to the fact that it needed a trim. There was a recently healed, jagged scar along the right side of his forehead that ran from the top of his hairline to his eyebrow, but instead of marring his beauty, the mark made him seem more intriguing and reminded her of a similar scar on a young wizard from a series of books she’d loved in her teens. He was clean-shaven, with a Roman nose, and had a generous mouth with full lips currently turned down in a frown.
He wore black, brushed-denim jeans, which molded to his muscular legs like a second skin, a charcoal gray shirt, and a black, kid-leather jacket. His feet were shod in black leather loafers. Everything about him, from the way he held his head to his shoes, screamed, “Look at me! I’m somebody!” Misty shivered. Whoever he was, he didn’t seem at all pleased to be here.
Based on his austere clothing and the scowl on his face, Misty decided he must be a serious-minded individual, and from his glare, she’d bet he was no more impressed with her costume than she was. Then again, it might have been her tactless comment that had soured his disposition. For all she knew, if he was the money behind this particular staging of Jesus Christ Superstar, she might have struck a nerve. He might even have chosen the color and the fabric with economy in mind. She knew Martha had bought up all the remnants she could find in town.
It was her turn to frown. Fabulous guys like this were either gay or married. Hell, Martha, the wardrobe director, might even be his wife. Hadn’t Amber said Martha’s husband was a trust-fund hottie? Well, this man was most definitely hot, and the clothes he wore so well shrieked money. The unexpected shot to her libido momentarily had her forgetting who and what she was. Reality quickly reasserted itself.
Misty had been living in Pine Falls for eight months now, and she really didn’t want to move again. She and her daughter, Debbie, were happy here. This man was a stranger, and strangers spelled danger. For more than four years, she’d run from relationships and people, including confident, powerful men like this one, avoiding friendships and commitment. She’d kept to herself, believing that if she did, she’d be safe. It hadn’t worked, and good people had died. What made her think stepping outside the box to become a member of this community and make friends here would be a wise thing to do? At the moment, it looked as if she might have made a colossal error.
Her mind focused on the present and the gorgeous stranger who reminded her of a sleek black cat, whose stormy, gray-blue eyes seemed to look right through her. She shuddered. This man was dangerous. He walked with the grace and ease of a panther on the prowl, wary of everything and everyone in the room. He might look like he could purr under the right circumstances, but at the moment, it was more likely he’d rip your throat out if he got the chance.
Micah walked over to the center of the room with the stranger following close behind him. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t seem to get her eyes to cooperate with her brain. She was like a moth drawn to the flame, unable to escape its destiny.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Micah said as he and the newcomer approached the center of the room, capturing the attention of the female cast and the men who’d filed into the dressing room. “I have some good news and some bad news for you tonight.” The cast gave a group groan. It seemed as if this musical was cursed; they’d been practicing since September, and every time they thought they had some glitch worked out, something else went wrong. In fact, it had been one of those minor disasters that had resulted in Misty’s joining the company.
In September, Amos, the agent who’d brought them to Pine Falls, had helped her purchase a small, two-story house just down the street from his. With his help, she’d established a solid cover story, and she and her daughter had fallen in love with their new home, the first real one they’d had since she’d made the fateful decision to testify against the Irish mob. Amos had put in a good word and helped her get a job as secretary at the local elementary school.
She’d been talked into joining the theater group after Amber had heard her sing karaoke the night of the school’s Christmas party. Her rendition of “I Love Rock and Roll” had brought the room to its fee
t. Since the theater group’s best soprano had been transferred to Oregon, they hadn’t been able to find a replacement. Misty’s voice was just what they needed to fill the void.
Although Misty had wanted the role, she’d declined because she hadn’t felt right asking Beryl, Amos’s wife, to babysit. When she’d mentioned it to Charlotte, her widowed neighbor who had a four-year-old of her own, she’d offered to babysit for Misty.
After more than four years of running, hiding, working, and looking after Debbie, Misty had needed some “me” time and had finally agreed. She enjoyed being part of the theater group and had even been persuaded to go on a couple of dates, but no one had pushed her buttons.
She shook her head and tried to focus on what Micah was saying because the man beside him worried her. Who was he? What did he want? Why was he here? The fear she’d cultivated all these years ate at her.
“I got a call from Jolene on Monday. Everything is fine, but she fell down a few steps at the mall last weekend. She claimed she was pushed — we all know how Jolene likes to exaggerate — and her doctor has ordered bed rest until after the baby is born, which means I needed to find someone who could handle the music quickly since we open next week. By the way, Jolene needs peace and quiet, so don’t all go rushing over to see her tomorrow, okay?”
“What are you, a mind reader?” asked Amber.
“No,” he replied, “Laura told me to say that. As a doctor, she knows what Jolene needs better than I do. Anyway, I’d like you all to meet Nick Anthony. He’s a retired musician and has experience with this type of performance. He’ll be taking over. The rest of you can move upstairs to the stage and get ready, but I’d ask Misty and Amber to wait a second.” The men turned and left the room.
Micah took Nick by the arm and all but dragged him across the floor to where they stood a little apart from the rest of the cast.
“Nick, I’d like you to meet Misty Starr and Amber Collins, two of my Marys. Amber has the role of Mary, the mother of Jesus, and Misty is Mary Magdalene; she’s the one I mentioned earlier.”
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