Irresistible You

by Francis Ray

  “How about it? You available tomorrow night?” Sabra asked.

  “Always,” he answered. Her smile faltered, then firmed. She believed their time was limited. He didn’t know how long this would last, but for the first time where a woman was concerned, he didn’t want to think of when she would be gone.

  And the thought unsettled him. He wasn’t the possessive or long-term type.

  He looked at Sabra laughing and talking with Faith and Sierra, who was showing her gown again. Something tightened in his chest. As if aware of him watching her, Sabra smiled over her shoulder and brushed her hand down his arm before turning her attention back to Faith and Sierra.

  Her touch sent tiny flames licking over his skin. Some women changed the rules, and it was his good fortune to have found one.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “HE’S BEEN GONE FOR ONLY A FEW HOURS AND I miss him already.”

  Sitting on the sofa in her condo, Sabra blew out a breath and glanced at her watch. Six fifteen. After brunch, they’d all gone to church together; then afterward Pierce had taken her by Brandon’s to eat before dropping her off at the condo.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Pierce said, then, after a brief kiss, had left her at her door, lonely and staring after him. She understood and respected the Sunday afternoon get-together of the entire Grayson clan; she just wished it weren’t today.

  “What am I going to do when I go back, Isabella?”

  The dog put her muzzle on Sabra’s thigh and barked.

  Sabra swept her hand across the dog’s head and looked at the window. If the ache was this bad already, what was she going to do if she went to Canada? The thought made her realize that she was leaning toward doing the motion picture. She’d never been afraid of challenges. Except one.

  Pierce.

  The phone rang on the desk across the room. Setting the laptop aside, she went to answer it. “Hello.”

  “Hello, Sabra.”

  Happiness swept through her. “Hello, Mother. Did Laurel’s final concert go well last night?” Laurel had been on a ten-week tour of Europe. Last night had been the final performance in London. Today they were scheduled to fly to Paris, then Rome. They weren’t due back for another month.

  “Magnificent,” Sabra’s mother said, excitement and pride in her voice. “Your sister’s talent grows with each performance. She’s brilliant.”

  “That she is,” Sabra said, meaning it. She’d long ago gotten over the hurt that her mother thought anyone could act. Laurel had worked hard, giving up almost all of her free time to practice. She still did. If possible, Laurel dated less than Sabra. “How is she?”

  There was a slight pause. “She misses your father. We both do.”

  Sabra’s grip on the phone tightened. “He loved us.”

  Her mother sniffed. “He was a wonderful man, and he spoiled you.”

  There was no denying the truth, but he’d paid a high price. “He spoiled all of us.”

  “Yes. How is the play going?” her mother asked.

  “Great. Mrs. Grayson, the chair of the music department, and the students are wonderful. We should have a hit on our hands,” Sabra told her, wondering why she had told Ruth but not her mother that she had written the play or the songs. “I sing two songs.”

  “I always dreamed of you and Laurel onstage together.”

  The disappointment in her mother’s voice hurt almost as much as if it had been critical. “My voice doesn’t lend itself to classical music.”

  “It might if you had practiced instead of—” Her words abruptly ended.

  “Mother!” Panic gripped Sabra. “Mother!” Sabra’s father’s sudden heart attack had been while he and her mother were out dining.

  “I’m fine,” her mother finally answered. “Laurel just came into the room and reminded me that you had practiced and succeeded. Lloyd never doubted that you would.”

  “Daddy always believed in me,” Sabra said softly, and thought of Pierce. He had the same un-shakable faith in her.

  “He was proud of you, and so am I,” her mother said. “You didn’t choose the path I wanted, but you’ve made a success of your life. You’re happy, and that’s what counts.”

  Sabra almost looked at the phone. Her mother had always been against the theater. “Thank you, Mother.”

  “Here’s your sister. I better check and see if the bags are packed. Good-bye.”

  “Good-bye, Mother.”

  “Hi, Sabra.”

  “Hi yourself.” Smiling, Sabra walked to the sofa and sat down. She could visualize her petite, exotic sister. Men fell over themselves for her and she never seemed to notice. Music was her world. “I hear you wowed them.”

  “I love playing, but not the touring,” Laurel confessed. “How are things there?”

  “Fine.” She tucked her feet under. “You and Mother all right? She sounded different. Your doing?”

  “Life is too short to live with regrets,” Laurel said slowly.

  Sabra’s feet slid from under her. There was something in her sister’s voice that worried her. “What is it, Laurel?” Her sister could give lessons to a stone when it came to talking. “Is it about Daddy?”

  “There were times I could have spent with him and didn’t. I was too busy practicing. When you came home, you two were inseparable. I always thought there would be time. Now he’s gone.”

  Sabra squeezed her eyes to keep the tears from falling. “Daddy loved you and was proud of you. He understood how important your music was to you. Your craft demanded a lot of practice; mine didn’t. And no matter how much time we had with him, we’d still wish for more. It’s hard letting go.”

  “I don’t want to live with regrets ever again,” Laurel said softly.

  “Then don’t,” Sabra said, thinking of how afraid she had been to have a relationship with Pierce. “Live your life and be happy.”

  “You sound different, too.”

  Sabra debated only briefly. “I’m seeing someone.”

  “My goodness!” Laurel cried in excitement. “E-mail me a picture tonight. What does he look like? How did you meet?”

  Sabra laughed at the enthusiasm in her sister’s voice. “I don’t have a picture, but he’s gorgeous, brilliant, and the son of the sponsor for the play.”

  “To have caught your attention, he must be. The bellman is here for our luggage. Take care, and thanks for being such a great big sister,” Laurel said.

  “You make it easy. Travel safely. Good-bye.”

  “Good-bye.”

  Sabra hung up the phone. She didn’t want to live with regrets, either. For as long as it lasted, she planned to be with Pierce.

  The doorbell rang just as she picked up the laptop again. Isabella barked and ran to the door. Pierce. Sabra rushed after her and swung it open.

  He stepped inside and closed the door. “I missed you.”

  She launched herself into his arms and just held on, feeling her body tremble. She lifted her head just to look at him. His mouth covered hers, his tongue moving with maddening slowness inside her mouth.

  She made a small sound of pleasure and matched him stroke for stroke. Her lower body settled against the junction of his thighs. His hand pressed against her hips, holding her against his hardness.

  Lifting his mouth, Pierce muttered, “I see you and I want you.”

  “That about sums up the way I feel about you.”

  His forehead touched hers. “You’re irresistible. I’m not even sure what excuse I made to leave Luke and Catherine’s house early.”

  “I tried to play the piano and that lasted about five minutes, then I turned on the laptop, but I never got around to opening the file.”

  “Can’t have that.” Lifting his head, he took her hand and went to the sofa. “Any objections to working at my place? I’d bring my things here if I didn’t need my desktop computer.”

  Sabra picked up the laptop. “Do you think we’ll get any work done?”

  “We’ll soon
find out.”

  “WHAT’S BOTHERING YOU?”

  Sabra lifted her gaze from the laptop. Pierce took off his half-glasses and laid them on a three-inch stack of papers on the desk in his home office. She’d ceased worrying or being surprised that Pierce could read her so well.

  “I’m going to accept the movie role,” she said. For some reason, her gut clenched.

  Not a flicker of emotion crossed his face. Getting up from his desk, he came to where she sat on the red leather settee, took the laptop from her, then hunkered down in front of her. “I bet your agent was happy.”

  “I haven’t told him yet.”

  An awed, pleased expression crossed his face. He took her nervous hands in his. “Thank you, and don’t worry. You’ll wow the audience, and we’ll find a way to be together.”

  She no longer worried about the audience. All she could do was her best. Her fear was in losing him. “I’ll be there at least six months.”

  “Looks like I’ll rack up a lot of frequent-flier miles.” His hand lifted to cup her cheek. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

  “Your business?” Her gaze went to the stack of papers on his desk. “You have a responsibility to your clients that I know you don’t take lightly.”

  “I won’t deprive myself of you or my clients from the attention their finances deserve,” he told her.

  She believed him. He wouldn’t shirk his responsibility. He was a man of principle. Her hand covered his. “I wish you could have known my father.”

  His smile was gentle. “I would have thanked him for raising a beautiful unspoiled woman of compassion and strength.”

  “If—” Her head lowered.

  His knuckled fingers lifted her chin. “What?”

  She shook her head and tried to shake away the bleakness that had crept over her. There was no sense thinking that if her father had met Pierce, he might have helped Lloyd so he wouldn’t have had to resort to such desperate measures. But she couldn’t discuss it with Pierce. She had a strong feeling that an ethical man like Pierce wouldn’t understand her father’s desperation.

  “Sabra?”

  She forced herself to smile. “Just thinking that life takes strange turns.”

  “You’re right about that. I’ll have to thank Mama for inviting you,” he said with a grin. “And, of course, you for coming.”

  It hit her again that she was practicing just as big a deception as her father. She pushed the thought away. Pierce was too perceptive. “I think you’ve already thanked me.”

  His brow arched at the teasing smile on her face. He chuckled. “Sassy. Now, get to writing. I want to see pages before your surprise gets here.”

  She straightened. “What?”

  His finger swept down her nose. “You’ll see.” Standing, he went back to sit behind his desk and swiveled to his computer.

  “Not even a hint?”

  “Pages.” Although he wanted to look at Sabra again, Pierce kept his eyes on the monitor. He had “pages” he needed to produce himself. Sabra’s presence gave him an edgy peace. He almost shook his head at such a dichotomy. If he could see her, smell her, he wanted her, but at the same time he enjoyed knowing she was near.

  “I don’t hear any keys.”

  “I’m working.”

  He heard the clatter of the keyboard and wondered what she would say when her surprise arrived.

  SHE WAS SPEECHLESS. SHE LOOKED FROM PIERCE to the candles burning on the lip of the Roman tub, the red rose petals floating on top of the water inside, the flute of champagne, the tray of canapes on a small Chinese table nearby.

  He hoped her stunned expression meant she was pleased. He’d had her stay in his office when the doorbell rang. The Garriety sisters had grinned when he asked about the bag of rose petals. Brandon had slapped him on the back when he ordered the tray and asked if he could include chocolate-covered strawberries.

  “It occurred to me that this probably should have happened Friday night.”

  “You did this?”

  He wished she’d look at him. “Jacuzzi is good for sore muscles. Earlier this evening I thought—” She threw herself into his arms. “You aren’t upset?” His arms tightened around her.

  Her head lifted. “No, but there’s only one way I’m getting in there.”

  He glanced around to see if he had forgotten anything and couldn’t. “Name it.”

  She reached for the snap of his jeans. “You join me.”

  “You only have to ask.”

  SABRA HAD JUMPED WITH BOTH FEET INTO THE AFFAIR with Pierce and she wasn’t going to worry about it. She was happy and for now that was enough. Going to sleep in his arms and waking up cuddled against him was a pleasure she wasn’t willing to go without. She couldn’t remember a time she’d been happier. The world seemed better, the day brighter, life sweeter, and the reason was the man sitting next to her.

  It was liberating to finally be able to show her emotions instead of hiding them. What made it even more special was that he felt the same way. The acceptance by his family . . . except Ruth . . . was an added bonus. Sabra had made good friends here. She’d miss them, but she’d be back; of that she was sure.

  The only problem was that she hadn’t been able to find the man her father had “borrowed” the money from. Since she had interviewed everyone on her list, learning the man’s identity now wasn’t likely. But at least she had one less worry since she’d decided to do the movie.

  Her family, her agent, and Britt had been thrilled. Aware that once the media knew she’d be swamped for interviews, she’d asked the movie studio not to make an announcement until she was back in New York. She didn’t want anything to intrude on the time she had with Pierce.

  “Help yourself to my salad.”

  Sabra speared a cucumber in Pierce’s house salad. Her third. “Thanks.”

  “I can order you one.”

  “I just want a bite.” She went back for a black olive. “Besides, it tastes better off your plate.”

  “You and Sierra are so much alike.” He edged his salad closer to hers of field greens.

  “You mean brilliant, hardworking, and diligent?” She speared his last olive.

  “Food thieves,” he said with humor in his voice.

  She bumped him with her shoulder. “And you adore us.” She tensed. Pierce wanted to keep this simple.

  “Of course. I wouldn’t let just anyone eat my food,” he said easily.

  She relaxed and sat back as the food runner arrived to take their salads and place their entrées on the table. “And we thank you.”

  “Sabra, what a wonderful surprise.”

  Sabra glanced up and froze on seeing the first financial adviser on her list, Sam Garner. For the life of her, she couldn’t get a word out.

  “Hello, Sam,” Pierce greeted him.

  She finally gathered her wits. “Hello, Sam.”

  The older man looked from one to the other, but as the silence grew, he shifted nervously. “Well, I better get back to the table with my wife. I thought I’d come over and speak. Good-bye.”

  “Good-bye,” Sierra said, casting a glance at Pierce, wondering when the questions would begin.

  “How does the chicken taste?”

  Sabra stared at him in surprise. “You aren’t going to ask me how I know him?”

  “I assume it has something to do with investments.” Pierce cut into his rare filet mignon. “Sam had that look.”

  “You aren’t upset?”

  He shrugged. “I admit I initially felt disappointment that you hadn’t asked me; then I thought you probably considered the attraction between us and knew it would be unethical for me to date a client. You were smart to look to another agent.”

  She didn’t feel smart; she felt like a fraud. Pierce didn’t like subterfuge. What would happen if he learned the real reason she knew Garner? “I thought he was honest.”

  “He is. Two people you should always be able to trust are your minister and your financial adv
iser.”

  “Have you ever known a financial planner who wasn’t?” she heard herself ask, her breath held.

  Anger leaped into his dark eyes. “Unfortunately, more than one. They don’t just steal money; they steal dreams. They should be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.”

  To Pierce, everything was cut-and-dried, black-and-white with no gray areas. Her heart sank.

  “Was there something else?”

  “No.” She quickly shook her head and forced a smile. “I guess I’m still surprised that you took my seeing Garner so well.”

  “Me, too.” He picked up her hand and rubbed his thumb across the top.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now finish eating.”

  PIERCE SAW THEM IN FRONT OF THEIR CONDO BUILDing before Sabra did and halted. “What’s going on?”

  Sabra lifted her head from Pierce’s shoulder and wanted to rail at the person responsible. More than a dozen men and women were gathered in front of the building. At least five had cameras. A cameraman with a TV station was taking footage of the area. “My guess would be that someone leaked word that I was going to do the movie.”

  Immediately, Pierce turned her around and started in the direction they had come. “Your agent or Powell?”

  “Neither,” Sabra said. “I trust both of them. Most likely it’s someone from the studio. We’ll probably never know for sure.”

  Pierce heard the anger in her voice, but there was something else. He stopped and drew her out of the busy flow of people on the sidewalk. “What is it?”

  “I wanted this time for us.” She glanced back in the direction of their condo. “You don’t know how persistent they can be.” She looked back at him. “Most of the media people are honest, but a few will print anything to sell a paper or magazine.”

  “You mean like the lies about you and Powell?”

  Her eyes widened. “Yes.”

  His hand cupped her cheek. “They can print what they like. This is what I believe.” His mouth brushed against hers, then settled. The kiss was long and thorough and drugging. When he lifted his head, they were both breathing heavily. “Now, what’s to be done to get through this?”