by Kara Lennox
She shivered, and Reece pulled the edges of the silk cloth around them like a cocoon. She snuggled against him, shifting to a more comfortable position.
They could have stayed there all night if they wanted, she realized. The bed-and-breakfast was empty of guests. No one would notice if they didn’t come home.
But she had a feeling Reece wasn’t a sleep-on-the-beach kind of guy. For that matter, he probably wasn’t normally a sex-on-the-beach kind of guy either. She wondered how he would deal with his loss of control.
A few minutes later she had her answer.
“Sara?”
“Yes, Reece?”
“We didn’t use any kind of protection.”
Sara sighed and propped her head up on her elbow so she could see his face. His expression gave her serious pause. He looked pretty grim.
She ran a finger along his jaw. “Oh, you silver-tongued devil. I think that’s the most romantic thing any man has ever said to me right after sex.” Okay, she would have preferred, You’re the best I’ve ever had, you’re incredible, you’re the most beautiful, sexiest creature in the universe… But thinking about protecting her was certainly better than I have to go, or, Is there any pizza left?
“I’ve never done that.” His voice was filled with what Sara could only describe as despair. “I’ve never just…forgotten before.”
No, she didn’t imagine he had. He probably scheduled his sex, wrote it down in his Day-Timer.
“Please don’t worry,” she said, knowing she had to allay his fears. “I’m on the pill.”
“Oh. Oh, that’s good.” His relief was palpable.
“You don’t have to worry about catching anything, either. I’ve been celibate for a while, and my last checkup was good.”
“You’re not worried about catching something from me?”
“Not at all. Because I’m willing to bet you have a battery of tests done every six months, just to be on the safe side. Whether you’ve had sex or not.”
“You know, it’s getting a little scary, the way you’ve figured me out. Am I all that predictable?”
She laughed. “No. I never would have predicted this.”
“You make me act like a crazy person.”
She played with the dusting of hair on his chest. “It’s fun being crazy.”
“It makes me nervous.” He ignored her playful caresses and sat up, rubbing his face. “I hold an executive position at a multinational corporation, responsible for decisions that could bring the company millions of dollars-or lose it. I don’t have sex on public beaches.” He moved away from her and started hunting for his clothes.
Sara heaved a big sigh and sat up, also. She knew this had been too good to last. While his hormones were running amok, his conservative, sound judgment went right out the window, which was fine with her. But now it was back.
She pulled on her clothes, wondering how to recapture the intimacy they’d so recently shared.
When they were both dressed, Sara shook out their impromptu beach blanket and loosely folded it into a long strip, which she wrapped around her shoulders like a shawl. It had grown cooler, and not just between her and Reece.
“We should head back to the Sunsetter,” he said. “It’s getting late.”
She saluted him. “Sir, yes, sir.”
That stopped him. “I’m being a complete ass, aren’t I?”
“Absolutely.”
He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. “God, I’m sorry, Sara. This has been an incredible night, all the way around, starting with the sandwiches-all of it. You’re the most…I don’t even know how to describe you. Beautiful, passionate, generous-that’s not enough.”
“Okay, you’re forgiven for being an ass.”
“You deserve champagne and a feather bed strewn with rose petals, not flat beer and a roll in the sand.”
She extracted herself from his embrace so she could look at him. “You’re kidding, right? We made love under the stars. No girl could ask for better. And if you would stop overanalyzing everything for one second and enjoy the moment, you would see I’m right.”
“But…”
“But what? You’re venturing into ass territory again. You think this was just a roll in the sand, huh? Is that all it meant to you?”
His eyes widened. “No, no.”
“All right, then. Look, if you’re worried that now I have big expectations, that I’ll be hinting around for an engagement ring or wanting to take you home to meet my parents, don’t worry. I’m the girl who doesn’t plan for the future, remember? I know you’re returning to New York. I know I can’t go with you. I’m okay with that. But that doesn’t mean tonight is trivial, not to me, anyway.”
“Not to me, either, Sara. I didn’t mean to give you that impression. Don’t be angry with me, okay? I’m not very good at living in the moment, so I’m bound to make mistakes.”
“Are we going to spend the night together?” she asked.
“Is that what you want?”
“I asked first.”
“I would like very much to go to sleep with you in my arms. In a nice, soft bed.”
She slid her arm around his waist and hooked her thumb in one of his belt loops. “Then I’m not angry.”
THERE HADN’T BEEN MUCH sleeping going on.
By the time they had arrived back at the Sunsetter, Reece had been looking at her as if she were a tasty morsel, the best oyster in the dozen, and for once he hadn’t guarded his feelings.
His intense scrutiny had made her squirm, and they hadn’t even made it all the way upstairs before clothes went flying again.
Reece was one of the most passionate, creative lovers Sara had ever known. Not that she’d had legions of lovers, but she’d had enough hamburger to know prime rib when she saw it.
She’d lost track of how many times they made love during the night. But she’d fallen into a deep, satisfied sleep in Reece’s four-poster bed some time before dawn, not caring how late she slept in because she wasn’t needed for breakfast.
When she awoke, the sun was high in the sky, streaming through the lace curtains, and she was alone in the bed.
Darn it.
There was a note on Reece’s pillow. She snatched it up and read it greedily. It informed her he had an early meeting at the bank and he hadn’t wanted to wake her.
That was sweet.
At least it gave her some time alone to think.
As she showered, feeling deliciously sore in all the right places, she wondered whether spending the night with Reece was an isolated incident, or if they would spend every free moment having wild sex until his return to New York.
And would he go public? Would they be a couple, even temporarily?
Last night she’d bravely told him she was okay knowing they had no future. But it wasn’t entirely true. When it came to Reece, she wasn’t quite the free spirit she wanted everyone to believe she was.
She couldn’t help envisioning a future with him, tentatively picturing various ways they could stay together. Maybe it had something to do with hormones, or maybe some part of her couldn’t link “Reece” and “casual sex” in the same sentence. Somewhere along the way, he had started to matter. A lot.
She called the hospital and talked to Miss Greer, who sounded good and said the doctor might let her go home as soon as tomorrow.
“That’s wonderful!” Sara said, trying to inject some enthusiasm into her voice. Of course she wanted her employer to make a swift and painless recovery. But once Miss Greer was back home, things wouldn’t be the same with her and Reece. Their partnership would be over, as Miss Greer could resume running the business.
The house had to be sparkling when Miss Greer returned, so Sara threw herself into housework, trying not to worry. That was Reece’s job. She had to change all the linens-she’d gotten lazy yesterday. Then she attacked the mountain of laundry, vacuumed and dusted.
It was two o’clock when she realized she hadn’t eaten all day, s
o she went to the kitchen and heated up some leftover frittata and a couple of flour tortillas.
Still Reece hadn’t returned. Was he avoiding her?
Finally she heard the front door open as she was putting dishes in the dishwasher. She resisted the urge to run to the door and throw her arms around him. She would have to let him set the pace.
She heard footsteps going up the stairs, then above her head. But only moments later they came down again, and Reece appeared in the kitchen. Looking for her?
“Hey.”
“Hi, there,” she said cheerfully. “How did your meeting go?”
“It was fine.”
She glanced up at the clock on the wall. “It was long.”
“I was taking care of some other things. Do you mind if I make myself a sandwich?”
“Make yourself at home. But I can fix something for you.”
“A sandwich I can manage.” He draped his suit jacket over the back of a chair and opened the refrigerator.
Probably safer, she reasoned. If he built his own sandwich, he could be sure nothing exotic or spicy wound up between the bread slices.
She invented kitchen busywork for herself, studying him covertly while he went about the business of getting out the bread, ham, cheese and mayonnaise. He looked better in a suit than any man she’d ever known. Then again, she hadn’t known any but him who wore suits.
“Have any calls come in?”
“A few inquiries regarding our room rates. One reservation.”
“Sorry I wasn’t here to do my part.”
“That’s okay. I talked to Miss Greer. She’ll be coming home in a day or two.”
“That’s good. Do you want to visit her today?”
“Are you willing to drive me?” No way was she borrowing his car again. Not that he would let her.
“Sure.” Just then Reece’s phone rang. “Reece Remington,” he answered, as if he were at the office. “Oh, hi, Dad.” He sounded wary and looked annoyed.
The dryer buzzer sounded from the laundry room, and Sara used it as her excuse to escape. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to, except Reece wasn’t acting like the solicitous, smitten lover she’d hoped for. In fact, he was acting the same as he always did.
Did that mean it was over? Had he cured his temporary insanity?
She haphazardly folded sheets while she lectured herself not to overreact. One day at a time, one hour at a time. Yes, in weak moments she let herself believe that Reece might be different from the rest, that they could somehow carve a relationship that would last. Like, forever. But she knew her hopes were unreasonably high.
She carried a stack of messily folded sheets-Miss Greer, queen of the hospital corners, would have a fit-upstairs to the linen closet. Hers was the only bed she hadn’t made up today, so she grabbed a set of sheets and headed up to the third floor.
A white shopping bag was propped against her bedroom door.
Her heart pounded, because she knew it hadn’t been there earlier. Therefore, it came from Reece. She dropped the sheets and reached for it, peeking inside, where she spied…a pair of shoes?
She pulled them out of the bag. They were Mexican huaraches, almost identical to the ones she’d lost last night. She slipped one onto her bare foot. It fit perfectly.
Flowers would have been nice. Dreamily romantic. But shoes? The best present from a man, ever. It meant he was paying attention to her. He’d seen that she was sad over losing her favorite shoes, and he had made the effort to give her a gift he knew would make her happy. He’d even gotten her size right.
She ran down the stairs, wearing one shoe and carrying the other, not stopping until she reached the kitchen, where Reece sat in the breakfast nook with his sandwich halfway to his mouth.
She launched herself at him and threw her arms around him, not caring if it was the wrong thing to do or whether she got mayonnaise everywhere. She nearly knocked his chair over.
“You are the best! What a thoughtful gift.”
He looked a little embarrassed. “Are they the right size? I had to guess.”
“They’re perfect. Where on earth did you find them?”
“At the drugstore, believe it or not. I went in to buy shaving cream, and there they were.”
So he hadn’t spent all day scouring import shops and shoe stores, looking for just the right shoe. Didn’t matter. It was still thoughtful. She kissed him on the cheek, then reluctantly let him go.
“Those saucers you ordered arrived today,” she said.
He shook his head grimly. “We’re going to have to tell her, you know. There’s no way we can replace everything by the time she comes home.”
“Oh, that reminds me-Allie gave me a lead. She said she saw those exact dishes at one of the antique shops downtown.”
“Really? Which one?”
“That’s the problem. She doesn’t remember. But I was thinking of heading out there this afternoon. I could hit most of the stores in a couple of hours, before they close.”
A grin lit his face. “I’ll go with you. Then we can go to the hospital.”
“Sounds good! I’ll get my purse.” She shoved the other shoe onto her foot, then ran upstairs to grab her purse and put on lipstick.
She realized, as she spritzed on perfume, that she was acting as if this was a date, and she was as excited as if Reece had invited her to a symphony and dinner at the Ritz-Carlton.
“Whoa, girl,” she said as she used a tissue to wipe off the perfume. “Don’t try so hard.” If she wasn’t careful, she would scare him so bad she would ruin whatever time they had left.
Chapter Nine
“Oh, look at these hats!” Sara grabbed the biggest, gaudiest one of the display, a blue velvet number with an enormous ostrich plume, and plopped it on her head, then searched for a mirror so she could see herself. She swiveled and found one right behind her. “What do you think? Is it me?”
Reece couldn’t help but laugh. She looked like a nineteenth-century strumpet. “Very fetching, Eliza Doolittle, but we have work to do.” He snatched the hat off her head and placed it back on the mannequin’s head. “Let’s find the dishes.”
“I just love antique stores. I never buy anything because, well, I don’t have anywhere to put stuff, and the Sunsetter has all the antiques it needs. But I love to look. Oh, I see some dishes.”
They were white. They had pink roses. But they weren’t the right pattern.
Unfortunately, the first store they’d entered was not well organized. Victorian picture frames were displayed right next to a 1930s radio; vintage Mexican pottery sat on a French walnut table. Dishes were strewn all over the store.
“I see some china over there.”
Sara didn’t answer, so Reece turned around and found she had darted off to another part of the store, where she examined some rather ordinary-looking sheets.
He joined her. “What are you doing?”
“These are hundred-percent cotton sheets and they’re a steal,” she whispered. “I have to get them.”
“We need to focus.”
She sighed. “All right. But aimless roaming is much more fun.”
They asked the store’s owner if she had any of the prized dishes, but the woman had no idea. So they hunted. Twenty minutes later, they had finished with their first store and left empty-handed.
“Let’s try that one over there,” Sara said, darting across the street and nearly getting run over by a bicycle. She seemed unfazed by the near-collision and headed resolutely toward the store she’d spotted. Reece saw a perfectly good antiques store right next door to the one they’d just exited, and it seemed reasonable to check it first. But Sara was already gone.
They probably should split up. They could cover more territory. But then he would miss watching Sara’s delight as she discovered some useless froufrou-a single eggcup shaped like a chicken, for example. Her uninhibited joy reminded him of a kitten that sees every object in the room as a toy to pounce on.
What mu
st it be like, he wondered, to see the world as an endless array of delightful possibilities? He couldn’t even imagine it. He’d never been like that, not even as a child. In fact, as a little kid on Christmas morning he would open one present, thoroughly study it, read the instructions if there were any, and play with it until someone reminded him he had more gifts to unwrap.
“I have to look at the books,” she said in their third store, distracted once again. “Look at this one! It’s an illustrated Huckleberry Finn from the 1930s. I know someone who would love to add this to his library.”
His library? A guy she knew well enough to buy a personal, meaningful gift? He supposed he shouldn’t feel jealous. Sara obviously made friends wherever she went. In fact, she selected a few more purchases as they went along, all of them gifts for friends, some she intended to hoard until a birthday came along months down the line.
He didn’t even know his friends’ birthdays. For that matter, he didn’t have that many friends. Except for Cooper and Max, who dragged him out for a beer or a hamburger every so often, he didn’t socialize that much for the reasons he’d mentioned the night before-crowds, noise and meeting new people weren’t on his list of favorite things.
Reece figured they had time for one more shop before they had to head for the hospital in Corpus. It was a dusty, cramped cubbyhole of a store, the merchandise piled so haphazardly he didn’t hold high hopes.
Until he saw them, stacked in a box in a corner.
“Yes!” Sara, who had also spied the prize, dropped to her knees beside the box. “Look at them all. And they’re in good condition!”
Reece was awash in relief. He’d been dreading confessing the dishwasher mishap to Miss Greer, of seeing the hurt and disappointment in the normally formidable woman’s eyes.
He pulled the list from the back pocket of his jeans, joining Sara on the floor so they could sort through them.
“Even the teacups are in good shape,” Sara said, examining a cup she had just unwrapped from a nest of tissue paper. “I can’t believe we’re so lucky.”
The proprietress, a sixtyish woman with hair an improbable shade of red styled into a bird’s nest, saw their interest and came over. “Hello, Sara. Aren’t those lovely? I just got them in. Extremely rare, you know.”