Dreaming of You

by Francis Ray

  “Sierra, get to the point.”

  “Blade hasn’t given up on Faith. He sent her a floral arrangement so big two men had to carry it into the hotel, with a note begging her to change her mind and marry him.”

  Faith had never been as angry in her life as she was now. Sitting at the dining table waiting for Brandon, she looked composed while she seethed inside. A guest—Faith was positive none of her staff would have violated her privacy—had found Blade’s card, which she must have dropped, and told someone who told someone else who told who knows who until the note was embellished to the point that Blade would do anything to marry her.

  Faith tsked and sipped her wine. She didn’t care for herself, but she did for Blade. Dating was one thing, getting serious quite another. If news of their supposedly hot affair leaked to the media, she wasn’t sure how he’d react. One thing she did know: he’d think of her safety first and her wishes later. He was not going to chance losing another person because of her close association with him. Any other time she might humor him, but not now.

  The reason was coming toward her, his black eyes narrowed and hard. She waited until he took his seat in the leather chair across from her and the waiter discreetly withdrew.

  “The rumor isn’t true.” She told him about her suspicions of a guest finding the card Blade sent. “He is just a friend.”

  “We’re friends, too.”

  Heat flushed her cheek, but she held his gaze. “We’re a lot more since last night, or did you forget?”

  “I’ve forgotten nothing,” Brandon said, his voice rough.

  Her face softened. “Neither have I. But with the rumors flying all over the place I wanted you to know that, as outlandish as it may seem, you might be viewed by those gossiping as the other man.”

  His brow cocked. “So that’s the reason we’re in a cozy little alcove off the main dining room instead of on the patio?”

  She blew out a breath. “Yes. I didn’t think you’d enjoy your meal very much if we were the main attraction. Of course, I’ll understand if you want to leave, because our being secluded together may generate more speculation and gossip.”

  He spread his napkin in his lap. “I’m staying.”

  Relief swept through her. “Here comes Henrí with the first course.”

  “Good evening, Mr. Grayson. Delighted to see you finally decided to show up.” Henrí placed tuna tartar in front of them.

  “I was only a few minutes late,” Brandon defended himself.

  Henrí stared down his long nose at Brandon. “There is never an excuse for keeping a lovely woman or an exquisitely prepared meal waiting.” He straightened. “Various wines will be served to coax the flavor out of the dishes. Since your palate is hopefully more sophisticated, I’ve selected nonalcoholic beverages for you. We shall see.”

  Brandon gripped his fork as the chef left. “On closer acquaintance with Henrí, I think we both might be happier if he stayed in your employ.”

  “He’s just protective of me, and very serious about his work.” Faith placed her napkin in her lap.

  “That’s the only reason he’s not wearing this appetizer.”

  Faith’s mouth twitched. “I thank you for your restraint.”

  “You should. For now and earlier.” His fork hovered over his food.

  She studied Brandon’s unyielding face. She wouldn’t fool herself into thinking he was jealous. He was just being his usual protective self. “I do.”

  Brandon took his first bite. “Henrí had it wrong.”

  “About the meal?”

  “About you,” Brandon said. His eyes roamed over her face, her bare left shoulder, the swell of her breasts in the red halter evening dress. “You’re the one who is exquisite.”

  Her lips trembled. “Brandon.”

  Panic filled his eyes. “Don’t you dare do that or I really will leave.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” She swallowed, swallowed again. “Tell me about the renovations.”

  He did just that as Henrí served them the five-course meal. They were waiting for dessert when the delivery arrived. Brandon stared at the orchid in the clear box and thought of snatching it up. It couldn’t stand a chance when put up against the flower arrangement the other guy had sent.

  “I ordered it early this morning. I’m sorry it’s not bigger. I’ll . . .” His voice trailed off as he worked up enough courage to look at her.

  Tears glistened in her eyes. Removing the flowers, she grazed her fingertips against the creamy velvet petals as if it were the most delicate thing in the world.

  That honor belonged to her incredible skin. He could visualize trailing the flower over the swell of her breasts, her quivering stomach, going lower, to the very essence of her, and his greedy mouth following its path.

  “It’s beautiful and absolutely perfect.”

  She’d just described herself. How was he going to walk away from her? He didn’t know how; he just knew he had to.

  “Voilà.” With a flourish, Henrí presented the desserts. “You will never taste anything better.”

  Brandon’s gaze leaped from the key lime cheesecake with toasted nut crust to Faith’s. Heat leaped between them. He read her thoughts as easily and as clearly as she probably read his. Henrí was wrong again. They already had.

  Each other.

  Faith complimented Henrí profusely on the food, the presentation, the choice of wines. Even as she said the words, she couldn’t help looking over Henrí’s shoulder to see Brandon, powerful and seductively handsome, leaving the restaurant. She couldn’t wait until she had him naked again. Her heart sighed. Reluctantly, she reined in her lustful longings.

  “As always, Henrí, everything was perfection.” She reached out her hands to him.

  He clasped her hands in his smaller ones, studying her. “Would it have been the same without Mr. Grayson?”

  Her hands remained steady, but her pulse raced. “Sharing heightens the pleasure of anything, especially a magnificent meal.”

  The chef squeezed her hands, then released them. “True, and it’s about time you realized that. You know what you Americans say about all work and no play.”

  “That I do. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.”

  He pulled a face. “What did I just say?”

  “Work now so I can play later,” she told him. She definitely had plans for the night.

  “Then go. I’ll see you at breakfast. You can be the first to try my new quiche.”

  Faith’s plans for breakfast in bed with Brandon faded, but that was all she was willing to give up. “I might be later than usual.”

  “I’ll see you when I see you.”

  “That works for me. Good night.” Faith left the restaurant, busily formulating her plans to spend the night with Brandon.

  Brandon waved good-bye to Michelle, the last person to leave the restaurant, then looked down the street toward Casa de Serenidad. He could be there in minutes. And if Faith was in her room they could be naked and in bed in nothing flat, doing all the things he remembered and all the things he’d fantasized about.

  Michelle hooked the horn of her Volkswagen Beetle and waved as she passed. Brandon absently waved, took one last longing look toward Faith and a temptation that was becoming more difficult to resist with each breath, then turned to go back inside, hoping the image of Faith willing and wanton in his arms didn’t haunt him, so he could sleep.

  “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  He whirled. Faith was less than five feet away and closing the distance fast. “Where did you come from?”

  “Back there.” She pointed over her shoulder. “Can I come in? I thought tonight was as good a time as any to see your apartment.”

  What she said sounded reasonable, but with all the erotic thoughts he had been having of them making love, it would play hell with his determination to resist her.

  Her smile faded when he didn’t reply. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.” Tucking he
r head, she started past him.

  He caught her arm. His hand flexed. On its own accord, his thumb stroked the soft, warm skin beneath. “Didn’t think what?”

  She shook her head and remained silent.

  “Faith.” His other hand lifted her chin. Agony stared back at him. “Please tell me what you meant.”

  She swallowed. The words tumbled over her trembling lips. “That you’d have another woman waiting for you in your apartment.”

  The thought was so far-fetched, so idiotic, he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. His mouth firmed. His hold tightened. “Is that your opinion of me? You think I’d make love to you one night and jump into bed with another woman the next?”

  Down went her head again. “Maybe it wasn’t as good for you.”

  His eyes widened. She’d blown the top of his head off.

  Holding her arm firmly, he pulled her inside the restaurant, slamming and locking the doors. Grabbing her arm again, he hurried up the stairs and into his room. He didn’t release her until he had taken her into the bathroom and the walk-in closet before finally stopping in the middle of his bedroom. “Do you see another woman anywhere?”

  She shook her head.

  “I didn’t hear you.”

  “No.”

  “That’s right, and do you know why?” he barked out.

  She started to shake her head, stopped, bit her lip, and said, “Because you wait longer between women?”

  If she hadn’t looked so miserable, so utterly lovely, he might have dragged her back downstairs and slammed the door with her on the outside.

  Instead, he did something much worse. He told the truth. “Because you have managed to do what no other woman ever has . . . invade my thoughts and haunt my dreams. Because after loving you there isn’t room to think of another woman. Because when I’m inside you, it’s the most perfect moment of my life.”

  Utter joy started in Faith’s eyes and spread until she glowed with happiness. Laughing, she launched herself into his arms, letting her kisses fall where they may. Weak fool that he was, Brandon caught her, swinging her around, letting her happiness sink into him and erase his anger.

  Then she went in for the kill, wrapping her legs around him and fastening her mouth to his. Brandon went from warm to hot in warp speed. One arm curved under her hips, the other around her back. He tried to remember where they were in reference to the bed and couldn’t.

  It would take a man with more willpower than he possessed at the moment to break the kiss and look. It was pure blessed luck that the backs of his legs bumped the foot of the bed. He plopped down. With his hands free, he moved them both to her hips. He encountered bare flesh. Further investigation revealed a thong under the tiered skirt.

  Faith had been right. She might kill him, but what a way to go. Reluctantly he broke the kiss, his mouth trailing down the curve of her chin to the lush swell of her breast. He nuzzled, then used his teeth to pull the single strap of her knit top lower on her shoulder to reveal more of the tempting flesh. But not enough.

  Unable to wait a second longer, his teeth fastened on the pebbled nipple through the material. She whimpered. He wanted to. “Hold tight with your left arm.” As soon as she did as he requested, he slowly pulled the strap off her right arm, his eyes watching the slow emergence of her breasts. “Magnificent.”

  Locking his arms around her waist, he went back to lovingly devouring her breasts, savoring them as he licked and suckled, driving them both closer to the point when they’d each want more, demand more.

  Faith twisted against him, thrusting her breasts. “Brandon. Please.”

  Gathering her in his arms, he stood and made his way to his dresser. Mercifully he found the condom on his first groping try, then made his way back to the bed. “Can you unbuckle my belt?”

  She didn’t have to be asked twice. She unbuckled and managed to shove his slacks over his hips. Her hand came back up to cup him, causing him to harden even more, his legs to tremble.

  “Stop that.”

  She nipped his ear. “Can I later?”

  He was counting on it. Hooking his finger in the band of her thong, he tried to pull it down, but the material proved difficult.

  “I have lots,” she said, nipping his bottom lip.

  He snapped the waistband, then plopped on the bed. He kicked off his loafers, pants, and under-shorts. If he didn’t get inside her soon, he was going to blow. He tore the wrapper on the condom.

  “Can I do it?”

  He was hanging on the edge of control by his fingernails. He didn’t want to wait a second longer than necessary. He held it out to her.

  She gave him a smile, took the condom, then stood and wiggled out of her tiered skirt. Brandon, already teetering on the edge, grabbed a fistful of bedding and gritted his teeth as she knelt in front of him. She picked him up in her hand and just stared. She started to lower her head.

  “Faith.” Her name was a desperate groan of warning.

  She looked up at him through a sweep of dark lashes. Her gaze held a promise that later she’d have her way.

  Positioning the condom, she slowly rolled it down, smoothing it as she went, her lower lip tucked between her teeth as if getting it just right was the most important thing in the world. He was sure that for the rest of his life, when he saw her tuck her lip, he’d think of this moment. As soon as she reached the base, he reached for her, setting her on his lap and driving into her hot, moist center.

  Sensations rocketed through him. From the rapt expression on Faith’s face, she was experiencing the same wildly intense emotions. There had never been a woman his body and mind were so attuned to. Slowly he began to move, in and out, stroking, pumping, loving, until they shattered together.

  His arms wrapped around her as if never wanting to let go. In the slow seconds that followed, as he held her limp body, he accepted the truth he had been trying to run from.

  For as long as it lasted, he wanted Faith in his life, his bed.

  Angling his head, he kissed the top of hers, the slope of her shoulder. “You want to shower?”

  She lifted her head and smiled at him. He’d never seen anything so beguiling. “I’d rather make love again.”

  “I figured we’d do both.”

  17

  “I think it looks absolutely perfect.” Barefoot and wearing one of Brandon’s black T-shirts, Faith curved her arm around his trim waist and surveyed the sitting area in the living room.

  The large rectangular ecru-colored rug on the pine hardwood floor pulled the area together. To the left of the newly covered oyster-colored sofa was a large palm that would thrive from the light shining through the window directly behind it. The vivid green leaves stood out in the room in tones of beige and black.

  Brandon kissed the top of her tousled head. “Thanks to you.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” She glanced around, happy that she had been able to make his living space more comfortable and inviting, then said, “I especially like the shower.”

  Chuckling, he curved his arms around her waist. “Same here. We’ll have to try the Roman tub next time. You can have your candy with champagne, if you’d like.”

  “I’d just like you.”

  “You can have me any way you want.”

  She shivered in anticipation. Brandon naked was truly an awesome sight, and so arousing. He wore only jeans now and was still impressive. Bronzed muscles rippled as his arms tightened around her. “It wasn’t part of the original plans.”

  He shrugged. “It just came to me, or perhaps I envisioned you naked in it.”

  Her heart melted. Staring up at him, she couldn’t imagine loving him any more. She palmed his cheek. “You first.”

  He kissed her palm. “I’ll see what I can do. For now, we need to get you back home.”

  Faith pushed out of his arms. “Not yet.”

  Brandon put his hands on his hips. “Don’t be stubborn.”

  She shook her head and glanced at the black case hold
ing the tenor saxophone. She’d moved it from the far corner of the room and leaned it against the arm of the sofa. “It’s early. I was hoping you’d play for me.”

  “I haven’t played in years. The sound would probably hurt your ears. Besides, it’s past one in the morning. We might escape gossip with having you back before two, but anything past that and it’s a sure bet people will know what we’ve been doing,” he said bluntly.

  She folded her arms and lifted her chin. “I’m a grown woman.”

  “Yes, you are.” His hot gaze roamed greedily over her body. “You’re also the woman who was steamed to have her privacy invaded.”

  Her arms fell to her sides. “That’s because I didn’t want you to get the wrong impression.”

  He closed the distance between them, pulled her into his arms, and stared down into her mutinous face. “I don’t want people to get the wrong impression about you. You’re too sweet and softhearted not to be hurt.”

  She splayed her hands on his chest. “They’ll think we made love, in any case.”

  “What they know and what they can prove are two different things.” Catching her hand, he headed for the bedroom. “No one is going to gossip about my woman and, if they do, they’ll be looking for a dentist or the nearest hospital.”

  Faith gasped and came to an abrupt halt.

  Brandon stopped and stared back at her. “What’s the matter now?”

  “You . . . you called me your woman.” She whispered the words as if to say them louder might negate their power and worth.

  Lines radiated across Brandon’s forehead. “I did?”

  Afraid he’d retract his statement, she nodded.

  He rubbed his chin, considered. “You’re sure?”

  Swallowing, her hands clenched, she nodded again.

  “Well, then,” he drawled. “Since I’m a man of my word it must be true.”

  “Oh, Brandon.” She kissed him once before he pulled her arms from around him and shoved her into his bedroom.