by Francis Ray
Pierce’s deferring to her banished her doubts and upped her confidence that they could get through this. “We need to take control and call a news conference. Your mother promised the media here an exclusive. If they can see me tonight, I’ll give it to them. Then I’ll schedule a news conference for the morning with the head of the studio and Britt.”
“The media here is easy,” he said. “Britt and the head of the studio might be difficult.”
Sabra’s chin lifted. “Leave that up to me. I just need a place to operate from.”
“Leave that to me.”
IN LESS THAN THIRTY MINUTES SABRA WAS BEING hooked up to a mic in Faith’s office, while the cameramen and women from the local TV stations and newspapers jockeyed for position. Sabra only smiled when the nervous man kept dropping the mic that had to run under her sweater.
“I should have worn a different top. I’ll do it.” Taking the mic, she quickly clamped it in place on the scooped neck of her tangerine-colored knit top. “You’d probably rather be out on a date or home with your family.”
The balding man blushed like a teenager. “Been married forty years.”
“I’d say you were both lucky.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, and stepped back.
“Are we all about ready?” Sabra asked. She sat in a straight chair to the right of Faith’s desk. Over her shoulder was The Defender, the bust of Morgan by Phoenix. Sabra had seen the piece in the lobby and asked if it could be a part of the backdrop for the taping.
Faith had quickly said yes, just as she had when Pierce asked if they could do the interview there. He wanted it in a neutral place they had control over. By the time the last media person arrived, Faith had picked out a spot, set the stage, and ordered coffee and light desserts for the media once they were finished. They all wanted the experience to be as successful as possible.
“She’s good,” Sierra said from beside him.
“What makes it better is that she means every word,” Pierce said, his hand resting lightly on Isabella’s head. He’d sent Sierra to pick up the animal. She’d gone in and out the back entrance.
“We’re ready when you are,” said one of the local TV anchors. “Let me say for all of us that we appreciate you remembering.” There was a round of nods and applause. All the local media were represented. Not one source had refused.
“Mrs. Grayson gave her word and mine. Neither of us takes that lightly.” Sabra smiled into the glaring lights of the TV lens and flashing cameras. “Mrs. Grayson and I are both thankful that you were able to be here on such short notice. It shows a dedication to your profession. The entire city is one I won’t forget. Now, who has the first question?”
Sabra in action was a joy to behold. Pierce marveled at the way she handled the reporters. Two minutes into the interview she had them eating out of her hand and forever grateful she’d allowed them the exclusive.
She didn’t leave out his mother, who stood nearby with several of the students. “I can’t tell you how excited I am about the production of Silken Lies and the talented students at St. John’s who’ll join me.”
“Mrs. Grayson, how do you feel?”
His mother in one of her power suits, this one black with a white blouse and accessorized with silver jewelry, smiled. “Honored and pleased that Sabra accepted my request. Not only is she a brilliant actress but a caring one as well.”
More questions were asked. Sabra answered each one, making sure the students were included and insisting that they join her in the many photographs. Thirty-seven minutes later, they were finished.
“Faith Grayson, executive manager of this marvelous five-star hotel, Casa de Serenidad, has refreshments waiting. She’s also graciously lent us a room for the press conference in the morning at nine with the head of the movie studio and Britt Powell. You, ladies and gentlemen, will be allowed to enter first.”
More applause and thanks. Unhooking the mic, Sabra came to her feet. “This way. I can promise the food is divine. Faith is married to a wonderful chef, Brandon Grayson, owner of the Red Cactus. You can’t find better food than here or the Red Cactus.”
“Brandon will be even more impossible once he hears she plugged his restaurant,” Sierra said, following the crowd out the door.
“And the hotel and Phoenix’s work.” Pierce closed the office door. “She’s something.”
“I agree. I’ll hate to see her go.” Sierra stopped at the door. As expected, men surrounded Sabra instead of the food. “You all right with that?”
“She’s a beautiful woman,” Pierce answered, stopping just inside the door with Isabella by his side.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Sierra said.
There was a break in the crowd as Sabra urged them to the table where coffee and desserts waited. His and Sabra’s gaze met, held for only a few seconds, but it was enough. They had her attention now, but later she was coming home with him. “It’s part of her job. Part of who she is.”
“Keep that thought when the media frenzy begins.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“FRENZY” WAS THE RIGHT WORD.
From the second Sabra stepped out of the condo the next morning, cameras flashed; microphones were thrust in her face. For the most part, they ignored Pierce on her right. Dave, her agent, on the other side wasn’t as fortunate.
“All of your questions will be answered at the news conference,” Dave told them as they steadily moved toward Sierra’s vehicle. He’d flown in that morning on the studio’s jet with Britt Powell and the studio head, Marcus Nelson. Dave had come straight to Sabra’s place while Britt and Nelson had gone to the hotel.
From his height of six two, Pierce saw Luke emerge from the passenger door of Sierra’s ATV. He opened the back door. Last night, after Pierce and Sabra had entered the condo the same way Sierra had entered and left earlier, they had decided against walking the short distance to the hotel.
Now Pierce smiled. No one was going to push his oldest brother around.
“Why did you let the local media scoop us?” snarled one reporter.
“Because they were nice enough to ask,” Sabra answered sweetly as she approached the vehicle. “Good morning, Luke. Thank you.”
“Good morning. Anytime.” Luke blocked the same persistent reporter. “You might want to watch where you’re going.”
The man’s dark eyes narrowed. “You don’t scare me.”
“Remember those words later.” Luke’s voice was mild; his eyes were anything but.
The man backed up and let Pierce and Dave get inside. As soon as they did, Luke closed the door and got inside. “Drive.”
Sierra chuckled. “You’re scary.”
Luke frowned at her. “Don’t get any ideas.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Tires squealed in protest as Sierra shot out of the driveway.
THIS TIME THE NEWS MEDIA WEREN’T SO CORDIAL. They were obviously miffed that they had been shut out from an exclusive. They were only partially appeased by the interview being granted them now. Sabra and the three men were seated on a raised platform in front of several mics in one of the smaller conference rooms.
“What’s the story on you and Britt? He came down here to see you. Is he the reason you’re doing the movie? So you can be together?” the same annoying reporter from the hotel asked.
Pierce tensed. He’d like to ram the microphone down the man’s scrawny throat.
Sabra smiled. “Do you want the truth or one that will sell more papers?”
The audience hooted. The man scowled.
“I take that as a request for the truth.” Sabra glanced at Britt, leaning back negligently in his seat, looking dangerous and sexy. “I admire Britt, and while I can’t imagine another actor in the part of Jeff, a man tormented by love and zeal for his country, we’re just friends.” She stared straight at the man. “I make my own decisions. That way, if it’s the wrong one, I only have myself to blame.”
“This is the right one,” Marcus N
elson, the studio head, quickly said. “We actively pursued Sabra for the part even before the screenplay was written. Without her, we wouldn’t have thought twice about doing Sacred Passion.”
“What about you, Britt? You’ve only done action parts. The drama is a departure. Can you handle it?” asked a reporter.
Britt arched a brow, then came easily to his feet, his gaze on the man who had asked the question. The man scooted back in his seat. “Sabra.”
She stood and went to Britt. His arm circled her waist, his hand tunneled in her hair. Her body sank heavily against his. “I don’t want you to go.” Her voice trembled with fear and love. “Please.”
“Leaving you is ripping my guts out.” His face was tortured, his hand clenched in her hair. “Loving you is the only right thing I’ve ever done.”
“Then stay.” Her voice quivered; tears rolled down her cheek.
His own eyes closed, then opened. “I can’t.”
“Then take this with you.” Her mouth fastened to his, her body seemed to curl around his. He gathered her closer, closer still; then she was free as Britt strode away. The woman dropped to her knees and wept.
There was complete silence. “That, ladies and gentlemen, is why Sacred Passion is going to be next summer’s blockbuster,” Marcus said, standing to applaud. He was joined by those seated. Sabra came to her feet laughing, her hand reaching for Britt as he strode back to her. Instead his long arm went around her waist. He kissed her on the cheek.
“Any more questions about my ability?” Britt asked.
“One. Do you need someone to read lines with?” asked a female reporter.
Britt grinned devilishly. “You can never tell. Why don’t you give me your number?”
The woman blushed, but anyone could see she was more than interested.
More questions were posed. The attention shifted back to the platform. “You can let go of me now,” Pierce said.
Sierra released Pierce’s hand. “She was just acting.”
Luke’s fingers slowly uncurled from Pierce’s arm. “I understand, but Sierra is right.”
Pierce ached from the tense way he’d held his body. He’d started for the platform the moment Britt touched Sabra. Sierra and Luke had grabbed him at the same time. For a wild, reckless moment he had wanted to turn on them to be free. That sobering thought kept him rooted to the spot, his gaze glued to the stage.
The kiss had caused a red haze to form in front of his eyes. The mist didn’t begin to clear until Sabra stood, laughing. He didn’t have to think long to recall the mindless passion that engulfed both of them when they kissed, touched.
“You’re right. She was just acting.” And he was glad his mother had class and hadn’t been there to see his reaction to what had happened.
“WELL, PIERCE. WHAT DID YOU THINK?” SABRA ASKED.
From behind his desk in his office, Pierce watched her with unblinking eyes. She tried to relax and couldn’t. Not with him so silent and unreadable.
She’d come directly from the last rehearsals. After the press conference, she had gone directly to the college. Dave, Britt, and Marcus, as well as some of the media, had followed. The students had been in awe of Britt, especially the female students. Ruth, as usual, was unflappable.
Taking the stage, Sabra hadn’t been surprised to experience the butterflies in her stomach; then she’d seen Pierce enter quietly through a side door. His presence had anchored her. She’d turned to the students. “This is a big chance for all of us. Give me the performance I know you’re capable of.”
They had. By the time rehearsals were over, Marcus wanted to meet the writer. Britt was asking for the part of Max. David wanted to represent the writer. Silken Lies had passed the test. Now if only Pierce could. He had to understand that what she did onstage had nothing to do with them.
On trembling legs, she pushed away from the door. “I saw you at rehearsals.”
“I’m surprised, with all the people there,” he said, his voice neutral.
Displaying more confidence than she felt, she rounded the desk. “You were the most important one.”
His hand snaked out and pulled her into his lap. His voice was just short of a growl. “He kissed you.”
“Technically, I kissed him,” she said casually, her insides in knots.
“I guess you did.” His hand swept up her rib cage, pausing beneath her breast. Her body tightened with anticipation. With slow deliberation, he lowered his head until his lips hovered above hers.
Her breath shortened. His mouth nipped her earlobe. She was powerless to prevent the shudder that rippled through her.
“Is this my punishment or my reward?” she said when she was able to speak.
His hands flexed. “I wanted to rip his face off for touching you. If Sierra and Luke hadn’t stopped me, I would have. Then you laughed as if it meant nothing.”
Tenderly her hands palmed his face. “It didn’t.”
“I know.” He pulled her to him, his mouth fastening on hers, taking her, consuming her.
“If this chair didn’t have arms we could go for a ride,” she said with a seductive sigh.
Pierce hardened beneath her, telling her he was more than ready. “Don’t tempt me.”
She nipped his ear. “You mean like you tempt me?”
He leaned away and gazed into her eyes. Passion and unfulfilled need stared back at him. Without a smidgen of doubt, he knew there was no way in hell that she could laugh and carry on a normal conversation now as she’d done at the press conference. “There’s a chair in my place.”
“You read my mind.”
MUCH LATER SABRA LAY NAKED AND HAPPY ON TOP of Pierce. “I’ll always have fond memories of that dining room chair and table.”
Pierce smiled and kissed her cheek. “So will I. What did Marcus think of Silken Lies?”
Her head lifted. She told him everything. “I didn’t tell them I’d written the play. Too many media people around.”
Pierce swept his hand over her shoulder. “Seems like you have another career, if you want it.”
A small frown puckered her brow. “I still can’t believe it.”
“It hasn’t sunk in yet,” he told her.
“I suppose.”
“Thinking about your father?”
She nodded and laid her head on his broad chest. “I started the play shortly before his heart attack. He said it gave me more options, and he never doubted I’d succeed.”
“Parental approval and support means a lot.” Pierce wrapped his arms around her. “Mama always told us there wasn’t anything we couldn’t do.”
Sabra lifted her head. “Then why can’t she let you choose who to marry?” She hadn’t meant the words to come out so sharply.
For once, hearing the words didn’t anger Pierce. He accepted the reason as Sabra’s anger on his behalf. “She loves us, but I’m my own man. I choose my own woman.”
“Me?”
“You.” He sat up. Sabra automatically slid her legs around his waist, inadvertently opening herself to him. Pierce found her moist, welcoming center and entered. Their sighs of rightness mingled. With his arms wrapped around her, her lips pressed to the curve of his neck, he took them on another slow, lazy ride to paradise.
“PIERCE. SABRA.”
In front of her door Friday night, Sabra jumped out of Pierce’s arms. She felt like a kindergartner getting caught misbehaving by the teacher she adored. A few feet away stood Ruth Grayson. Sabra didn’t dare look at Pierce or check to see if all the buttons on her blouse remained fastened.
“Mama,” Pierce said calmly, as if it were an everyday occurrence to get caught necking. On second thought, with Pierce’s looks and charisma, perhaps it was, Sabra thought.
“Hello, Ruth,” Sabra managed. “Would you like to come in?”
“No, thank you,” Ruth said, her gaze bouncing between the two caught lovers. “I just wanted to thank you again for coming. We haven’t had too much time to talk this past week. Y
ou’ll leave as soon as rehearsals are over.”
Sabra flushed.
“I’ll say good night, and let you two talk.” Pierce kissed Sabra on the cheek; then as he passed his un-smiling mother he did the same to her. “I’ll be waiting for you,” he whispered.
Sabra opened the door and invited Ruth inside. Isabella bounded to them, her tail wagging. She looked behind Sabra, as if expecting to see Pierce. “Please have a seat. If you’d like—”
“Please.” Ruth caught Sabra’s arm as she started for the kitchen. As soon as the younger woman turned, Ruth released her. “There’s a happiness about you that wasn’t there when you first came.”
Sabra flushed again. “I—”
Ruth held up her hand. “You don’t owe me an explanation. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. That was not my intention. Obviously, you and Pierce are seeing each other.”
“You wanted Raven instead,” Sabra said, unable to keep the hurt from her voice.
For the first time Ruth smiled. “If you’ll remember, I said Pierce was the most stubborn of my children. It’s not what I want that counts. It’s what his heart desires.” She opened her purse and took out an elongated box. “Please have this as a small token of my thanks.”
Sabra lifted the lid. Inside was a sterling silver charm bracelet with a single charm, a musical note. “It’s beautiful.”
“Music brought us together, and I believe there is always a reason for everything,” Ruth said. “We were meant to know each other for a reason.”
Pierce. Except that it wasn’t Pierce who’d brought them together, but her father’s crime. “Thank you.”
“Tell Pierce I’ll see him tomorrow night at the play.” Ruth went to the door. “I’m not sure you’re aware of it, but Santa Fe has movie studios that have produced some of the finest movies ever made. Good night.”
Sabra’s heart thumped in her chest. She waited until she thought Ruth was on the elevator, then peeped into the hall. When she saw it was empty, she hurried to Pierce’s door. Rang the bell. It opened almost immediately.