Before she could issue a heated reply, he turned and walked back into the bedroom, giving her a view of his broad back and his perfect towel-draped butt.
Sarah signed autographs for fans at the obligatory meet-and-greet prior to Saturday night’s show. She performed to another sold out crowd, but the exuberance she normally felt while performing wasn’t there. She faked it, mostly, and hoped her fans and critics alike couldn’t tell that mentally and physically she was exhausted.
Not that she hadn’t rested during the day. After leaving Code’s suite this morning, she’d gone back to her own room, tried to put him out of her mind and slept for part of the day. She didn’t return phone messages and had put Robert off when he’d come to check up on her. She’d taken all of her meals alone in her suite.
Now, again alone in her suite, she removed her outfit, a one-piece jumpsuit that shimmered in gold tones but thankfully sported no feathers or rhinestones. She hung up the garment in her walk-in closet and put on her most comfortable pair of heavy red cotton pajamas, slipped on matching red and white slippers and sat down in the parlor of her suite to watch the lights twinkle on her Christmas tree.
She still hadn’t finished decorating it—she had three boxes of ornaments to go. With a sad smile, she remembered putting those ornaments up with Code beside her the other night. They’d had a good time working alongside each other with a sense of peace. Those were only a few happy moments in time, but Sarah treasured them. She always would, because regardless of the past or what the future might hold, Code Landon would always hold a special place in her heart.
Sarah leaned back against the plump sofa cushions. The twinkling tree lights blurred as tears swelled in her eyes. She longed for a good old-fashioned Christmas. Back in Barker in her younger days, there hadn’t been a lot of money, but she recalled her mother and sisters gathering around the tree to sing carols, their humble home scented by warm sugar cookies baking in the oven.
She’d planned on going home for the holidays this season, but this opportunity to help the Dream Foundation had presented itself, and Sarah had given up her own desires to raise money for the charity.
Now, she had the chance to change lives. She had an opportunity through her fame and celebrity to make someone else’s Christmas wishes come true. She took pride in giving one hundred percent of her concert take to the less fortunate and felt it was worth the personal sacrifice. Robert had called in the numbers. Her two concerts so far had netted over two hundred thousand dollars. Coupled with Code’s generous offer to match the amount, she’d nearly earned half a million dollars this weekend alone for Katrina victims.
“Not half bad, Sarah Mae,” she whispered in the lonely room.
Sarah went to bed and fell asleep immediately. When she woke in the morning and glanced at the clock, she did a double take.
It was nearly noon!
She rose slowly, still stunned that she’d slept the entire morning away. She showered, trying to shake off the feeling of fatigue and dressed in a pair of jeans and a black turtleneck sweater. She put her hair up in a clip at the top of her head, unconcerned that tendrils fell haphazardly down her back. “What’s wrong with you, Sarah?”
And as if answering her question, her stomach growled at the same time her phone rang.
She picked up the phone instantly, warding off the shrill sound that seemed to irritate her lately. “Hi, Sarah. It’s me, Bets. I’ve got two muffaletta sandwiches waiting to be devoured. Can I come up?”
Sarah loved New Orleans’s signature sandwich, made with to-die-for olive paste on melt-in-your-mouth bread, something her band had introduced her to the last time they’d played in Louisiana. “I’d love to see you, Bets. Come on up.”
Sarah knew Betsy used the sandwiches as an excuse to check on her well-being and she appreciated her concern and friendship. Her stomach growled again and Sarah silently thanked Betsy for her good timing.
“You’re a lifesaver,” she said minutes later, letting Betsy inside the suite. “I owe you for reading my mind. I’m starving.”
“I aim to please,” Betsy said, walking past her and setting a white carton down on the black granite countertop in the fully functional kitchenette. “I brought us a ton of grub.”
“It won’t go to waste,” Sarah replied as she dug out two plates and filled glasses of iced tea. “Table or living room?” she asked Betsy.
“Living room. I want to look at your tree.”
Sarah smiled and they took their meals into the front room. She knew she’d feel more energized once she ate something.
Betsy sat facing the tree glittering with lights that Sarah kept on all day and night. “Got a pretty big one this time. You must be missing home something awful.”
Sarah shrugged. “My mama’s spending the holidays with Aunt Edwina, but she promised she’d come to one of the shows here before Christmas. I’ll see my sisters for a short time after their midterms.”
“They like school? Could never figure that.”
Sarah smiled and lifted the sandwich to her mouth. Betsy’s whole life was music. She’d dropped out of high school to sing backup with local rockers, but Robert had found her and seasoned her to sing country. She really was a country girl at heart, much like Sarah.
“Mmm. So good,” she muttered, enjoying the first bite. Then she faced her friend. “My sisters love college life. They love the freedom, and being out of Barker and having independence.”
“Still,” Betsy said, shaking her head. “All those books and exams. I didn’t care much for school.”
Sarah lifted the sandwich to her mouth again, but before she could take the next bite, her stomach tightened with cramps. She waited for the sensation to pass, holding her breath. But her stomach only cramped with more pain. She set the sandwich down and closed her eyes.
“Sarah?” Betsy’s voice held concern.
“I, uh,” Sarah couldn’t get the words out. Nausea hit her hard and she ran to the bathroom and hung her head over the toilet, making it just in time.
Ten minutes later, Betsy tucked her into bed, compassion filling her large brown eyes. “I’m worried about you, Sarah. Yesterday you fainted. Today, you emptied your stomach. You’ve been exhausted for days now.”
“It’s just a touch of the flu,” Sarah said.
“It’s a touch of something, but I’ve got a feeling it’s not the flu.”
“You think I’m working too hard?”
Betsy shook her head. Sarah stared at her, waiting for her next comment, because she always had one.
“My cousin Laurel had the same symptoms, honey. Nine months later little Jessica was born.”
Sarah stilled, every muscle in her body immovable. Blood drained from her face and she was sure she looked like a ghost. She whispered softly, “It can’t be.”
“Because you haven’t been with a man?” Betsy’s tone was hopeful.
When Sarah hesitated to answer, Betsy nodded. “It’s that gorgeous zillionaire, the one with the knock-’em-dead eyes. The one you haven’t told me about entirely?”
Sarah bit her bottom lip and sighed quietly. “We were in love when we were teenagers.”
Betsy nodded, encouraging her to go on.
“I left him for my career. He’s never forgiven me.”
“So he’s the father?”
Sarah refused to believe it. There had to be a dozen other reasons for her fatigue, fainting and nausea. “I’m not sure I’m pregnant, Bets. Odds are, I’m not. It’s just…stress and work.”
“You need to see a doctor, honey. You need to know for sure.”
She couldn’t deny it. “You’re right. It’s time I saw a doctor.”
Code stood in the wings watching Sarah on stage during her next performance. He’d watched her rehearsals throughout the week and it was beyond him why she needed to rehearse—she never made a mistake, never forgot the lyrics. She was in tune all the time, and her pure, natural voice could draw raw emotion in the hardest of souls.
Even his. In weaker moments. He admired her talent, and that irritated him. Admitting that she brought joy to her fans and was loved by the masses only served to validate her leaving him in Barker years ago.
Yet, he couldn’t help admire her in other ways. She had gumption. She’d stood up for herself the other day, nailing him to the wall with her perceptive observations.
You’re angry that I picked up my boots and tried to walk out on you this morning.
Damn straight, he’d been angry. She’d walked out on him one too many times. He wouldn’t let her get away with it again.
She wanted him.
On any terms.
That’s why she’d been avoiding him lately, ducking out of sight the minute she spotted him. Code had gotten to her and that fact scared her senseless.
Hell, he didn’t want a repeat of their youth either. He’d never want that. He’d told her she was in his blood and that was no lie. This time, he’d be the one to walk out on her, when the time was right.
Code had left her alone, needing a break himself. He’d spent time working at the plantation house, hiring carpenters to make repairs while he, too, engaged in some tasks. The small-town boy hadn’t been completely purged from him—he liked getting his hands dirty. Working on the house was a needed distraction. He enjoyed putting hammer to nail and rebuilding something of value.
Stage lights dimmed to golden hues and Sarah sat down on the third step of the riser, singing a soft ballad he recognized as her latest country hit.
Before Code could blink his eyes, a young man rushed up on stage heading for Sarah, knocking down a poinsettia plant to get to her. Startled, Sarah rose up with fright in her eyes as the frenzied fan called out, “I love you, Sarah Rose!”
She stumbled and fell backwards, catching her fall with her hands, the man nearly upon her.
His team was on the young man in seconds. Three of his best in Landon security jackets grabbed the attacker and pulled him off stage. He went kicking, screaming out his undying love for her.
Furious his team had allowed this to happen, Code rushed to Sarah’s side, lifting her up. Seeing fear in her eyes and holding her quaking body, he lifted her up and carried her off stage. “Are you okay?” he asked.
She shook uncontrollably in his arms. She’d been attacked before while on stage in Nashville. She’d been distraught and shaken when that crazed fan had attacked her.
“I…don’t know.” Tears welled in her eyes.
“I’m getting you out of here.”
Code moved quickly and wouldn’t allow anyone to deter him. He called down to the garage and ordered his limo driver to meet them there.
“Get us out of town, Jimmy,” he said, helping Sarah into the limo once they’d reached the lower level garage.
“Where to, Mr. Landon?”
“Willow Bend. And nobody knows about this until I decide to tell them.”
“Got it.”
Code wrapped his arms around Sarah and drew her closer, her slight trembling gnawing a hole in his gut.
“Close your eyes, Sarah. You’re safe now.”
Five
S arah relaxed in Code’s arms, her head on his chest, the solid beating of his heart a steadying comfort as they drove away from city lights. She kept her eyes closed, hearing highway sounds—rumblings of the road as the limo sped along, zipping past other cars.
She didn’t have a sense of time—didn’t know how long they’d been driving, but when the driver stopped the limo, Code shifted his body and the slight nudge brought her upright.
She hadn’t argued with Code about taking her away. She’d been too stunned and distraught and in need of his protective arms. Now, she shook the cobwebs from her head and came out of her daze. She’d been frightened on stage just minutes ago, the incident reminiscent of the last time she’d been attacked. She’d had a difficult time dealing with it, and if it weren’t for Robert’s constant encouragement and support, she’d have had a hard time getting back on that horse after the fall. But with Robert’s guidance and unwavering friendship she’d managed to overcome her fears and return to give her performances.
Tonight, when that fan rushed onto the stage, coming at her with wildness in his eyes, all those old memories resurfaced, and all she could think about was protecting her unborn child from the attacker.
That’s when it had finally hit her.
That’s why her fear had doubled from the threat.
She was pregnant.
The doctor had confirmed it just days ago, but up until tonight, Sarah had refused to believe it. She’d taken two home pregnancy tests after speaking with Dr. Linton and even then, she’d been in denial.
She had that crazed fan to thank for making her realize how precious life was and that’s she’d do everything in her power to protect her unborn child.
“Where are we?” she asked, though she had a pretty good idea when she saw moonlight shining on the levee when they’d turned into a long paved driveway. She’d heard about River Road and the plantation mansions that sat along the banks of the Mississippi but had yet to visit a home here.
“Welcome to Willow Bend.” Code looked straight ahead, gazing at the dimly lit house with pride. “This place survived the Great Flood of 1927, and Katrina didn’t do her in either.”
Sarah looked at the house more closely. Sturdy white columns supported two stories, and she recognized the impressive exterior architecture as Greek revival with a boxlike shape and wide windows spaced apart equally in orderly fashion. Bending ancient oaks graciously surrounded the property, and images flashed in her head of this home’s sweeping historic past.
Code broke into her thoughts when he turned to face her. “Did he hurt you?”
She blinked then shook her head. “He never touched me. I lost my balance when I saw him coming at me.” Sarah bit her lower lip and confessed, “I feel foolish now. I should have stayed and finished the show.”
“You sang for two hours. No one will feel cheated. If they do, that’s their problem, Sarah.”
Sarah didn’t agree. She had an unrelenting work ethic and didn’t like disappointing her fans. She still shook inside, realizing her vulnerability. Unending fatigue and news of her pregnancy had plagued her all week. The attack on stage had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. She glanced at the house. “Why did you bring me here?”
“No one knows about this place. You won’t be disturbed here. If you stayed at the hotel, you’d be fodder for the tabloids and paparazzi. You’d never get out from under all the media.”
“You do have a point.” And Sarah wasn’t up to any of it. She’d come to New Orleans with good intentions, but she wasn’t up to more media attention that would sap hours of her energy. She just didn’t have any to spare right now.
“I’d say thank you, but I know you’re just doing this for the good of the hotel. You’re protecting Brock’s interest.”
“Am I?” he asked, quite mysteriously.
Sarah wondered at that statement, refusing to read more into it. At this point she couldn’t figure him out but she knew one important thing about him.
He was the father of her baby.
She’d better get to know the real Code Landon before she informed him of his paternity.
“Thanks, Jimmy,” Code said to his chauffeur. “I’ll take it from here. Remember, tell no one where we are.”
Jimmy nodded and Code took her hand. “Ready?”
She wasn’t entirely sure, but the strength of his hand covering hers filled her with momentary courage. “I’m ready.”
Code waved off the driver’s attempt to help them from the car. Instead, he opened the door and assisted her out, making sure she was steady on her feet before closing the door. Code entwined their fingers once again as he led her up the steps. She waited on the veranda and gazed out at land that had once been sugar cane fields while Code opened the massive polished wood door.
Almost silently, the limo drove off leaving her
completely alone with Code.
What are you doing here with him, Sarah?
Her nerves raw, Sarah’s stomach tightened into a knot of trepidation. Panic set in. At some point she had to tell Code about the baby, but she couldn’t trust him with the truth yet. She had to define their relationship, meager as it was now, in some way. Hot sex and past remorse wasn’t enough of a bond to raise a child together.
Sarah didn’t know what she wanted. This was all so new to her. She’d dreamed of motherhood someday, but with that dream had come all the trimmings. A man who loved her deeply, a home to call their own and a future bright with promise.
As she looked into Code’s dark unreadable eyes her fears mounted. Who was he really? How could she divulge her secret and trust him to do the right thing? What kind of father would he make? Would he lash out at the child because of his unrelenting resentment of her?
Code turned on the entry hall light, and with a hand to her back ushered her inside. She took a reluctant step farther into the house and was immediately swept up by the glorious rooms to her left and right dated by antiques and wide plank floors.
She followed Code farther inside to view a large free-standing winding stairway that led to the second floor. “The front rooms are finished. The sitting room, library and dining room on this floor are being refurbished.” Code showed her the rooms, many of which had large canvas tarps draped over the furniture.
“It’s beautiful,” she said truthfully, realizing seeing this home in full daylight would enhance her impression even more.
“Hungry?” he asked, leading her to the kitchen.
To her surprise, hunger pangs followed her into the room. “Starving, actually.”
“These appliances are all in working order,” he said, the kitchen the one place in the house, she presumed, that had been fully updated yet kept with the style of the rest of the home.
Code opened the refrigerator and pulled out a few large dishes. “Compliments of Chef Louis,” he said with a grin.
“Who is Chef Louis?”
Do Not Disturb Until Christmas Page 5