“I don’t want to talk about it. Not now.” Maybe not ever.
“But . . . Sabrina, what—”
“No. Just don’t. Please, Kate.”
Something in her tone must have gotten through because Kate went silent again and her eyes narrowed.
“Well, shit. I’m going to kill him.”
“No, you’re not. You’re not going to say anything. It’s over. I need to focus on my career now. And that’s all.”
“That’s exactly what you don’t need.” Kate’s arms crossed over her chest. “You need balance in your life. All work and no play makes people suicidal.”
“Gee, you’re just a big ball of wisdom this morning.”
Kate sighed. “No, I’m just a friend who doesn’t like to see you looking like your favorite cat just died.”
“I don’t have a cat. Too much trouble. Just like men.”
Kate’s expression softened. “Not all of them. I thought . . .”
Shrugging, Sabrina tried to smile. “We tried. It didn’t work. I’ve got to let it go.”
“Sometimes a guy needs a second chance.”
“And sometimes it just doesn’t work.”
“And sometimes things are worth fighting for.”
“And sometimes they just run their course.”
Kate threw her hands in the air. “Argh! You are the most stubborn person I know besides Tyler.”
“Then I guess I’m in good company.”
“But he got the girl in the end. Don’t forget that.” Kate huffed. “Make sure you try that dress on before New Year’s Eve. You look like you’ve lost some weight.”
Kate left Sabrina with a hug and a stubborn vow that she would drag her to the party if she didn’t show up. She had no doubt Kate would do it, too.
God, she was miserable without him.
And even though she knew that eventually the feeling would pass, or at least fade, she wasn’t sure she wanted it to.
And maybe . . . neither did he.
She picked up the picture again.
No. She didn’t want to read something into what could be his way of saying good-bye. He’d given her the pictures. Maybe he was writing her off.
Later that night, she’d nearly talked herself into calling him, but the cast and crew arrived for their wrap party.
She’d known they were coming. It’d shown up on the hotel schedule a couple days ago. Obviously, they’d finished filming.
And Greg looked happy. He was laughing as he walked into the hotel, his arm around Amanda Patton.
For several seconds, she felt like she’d been stabbed in the gut as she stared at them. At the huge smile on Greg’s face and the way Amanda stared up at him like he was a god.
Oh, God.
Like a coward, she dipped her head and made herself real interested in whatever was on the monitor screen.
“Hey, you’re off at eleven, right? Come to this party with me. I’m not going to know anybody but Greg twisted my arm.”
Sucking in a deep breath, she dug out a smile for Sebastian. “I’m sure you don’t need me there to hold your hand. You’re a big boy. Besides, I’m tired, Baz. I just want to get some sleep.”
“Would it help if I told you Greg told me to ask you to come?”
Her smile died a quick death. “What? So I could see how he’s moved on? No, I don’t think I need any help in that area.”
Sebastian frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. Forget it.”
“No way. I won’t bug you now while you’re working, but later we’re gonna talk. Tonight I just want you to come with me.”
And that was a whole other issue, wasn’t it?
“Come as my friend. I miss you, Bree. And so does he.”
She so wished she could believe that. “It’s better this way, Baz. I just need to get through the next few days and then he’ll be gone.”
With a sigh, Sebastian crossed his arms over his chest. “Alright, Sabrina, since you’re so obviously going to be difficult tonight, I’ll leave you alone. But I’m warning you, you better be at that party tomorrow night. You’re dancing with me if I have to drag you out on that floor.”
“Wow, such a gentleman.”
He grimaced. “And you know that’s exactly what I’m not.”
He turned and headed for Greg’s group. Most had already gone into the atrium, where they were holding the party in an event room.
Greg must have already gone through because she no longer saw him.
And now she was going to spend the rest of her shift wondering what he was doing. And with whom.
* *
Greg wondered if Sebastian was having any luck coaxing Sabrina into coming to the party. He hadn’t heard from her after sending her the SD card and the photo. Maybe the note had been too subtle.
And maybe she just doesn’t want to see you again.
Which is why he’d sent Sebastian to invite her. He’d thought if he could get her in the same room, he’d be able to get her to talk to him in a setting where she didn’t feel trapped.
He chewed on that for most of the party. They’d wrapped earlier today and, for the first time during the entire filming, he felt like he finally had a grasp on everything. The film, his business . . .
Except the woman he wanted by his side.
When Sebastian walked in and shook his head, Greg knew what he had to do.
I want to use the Salon tonight.
He filled the time waiting for Tyler to text him back talking with his cast and crew, making sure he shook every hand and spent a few minutes talking to everyone. Word hadn’t yet filtered out about his new venture, so he spent some time dodging questions about his next plans. A few of the crew picked up on what he wasn’t saying but no one pushed for more. Tonight wasn’t for that.
He spent more than a few minutes with Daisy and Neal, who were still having problems that he couldn’t help them with. Greg could only tell them how thrilled he was with their work and hope like hell they understood that he’d be there for them in any way he could.
“So will Sabrina be here after she finishes her shift? I like her, you know. She’s sweet. Not at all your normal type, though.”
Daisy’s quiet question made Greg pause before answering.
“I’m not sure she’ll show. I think I may have scared her away. This life isn’t for everyone.”
Beside Daisy, Neal snorted. “Hell, sometimes it isn’t for us, either.”
“Have you ever thought about getting out?” Greg asked Neal. “Living like a normal person?”
Neal looked at him like he was nuts. “Who the hell wants to be normal? You just gotta find the people who love you despite your freak tendencies, man.” Neal’s glance at Daisy was so full of tortured wanting, it almost made Greg uncomfortable to see. But when Daisy smiled up at Neal, that intensity eased just a little. “Then it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”
An hour later, Greg was still thinking about Neal’s comment when Tyler texted him back.
Just you and a guest?
Greg frowned before he realized what Tyler was asking.
Yeah. Leave a contract. I’ll have her sign it.
Tyler didn’t answer right away and when he did, he was pretty sure Tyler hadn’t typed out the message.
If you’re asking who I think you’re asking, she already signed a contract. If you’re not, you & I are going to have a talk.
His brain froze for several seconds but his thumbs were already flying.
WHEN THE HELL WAS SABRINA IN THE SALON?
When neither Kate nor Tyler answered him right away, he had to force himself not to stalk out to the lobby and demand Sabrina talk to him.
Luckily, he didn’t make that mistake. He forced himself to continue making t
he rounds, waiting for an answer.
And when he got it, his grin made Trudeau, who looked like she’d been gritting her teeth as she talked to Sebastian, frown at him.
Checking the clock, he realized it was just after eleven p.m. and his time was running out. Greg jerked his head toward the door and Trudeau met him there.
“I’m slipping out. Say I got called away. Frankly, I don’t care if you say I’m leaving to grovel at a certain female’s feet. Just don’t tell them who.”
Her nose screwed up in an offended grimace. “I hope you know I can come up with a much better excuse than that.”
“And that’s why I hired you, Truly. I’ll see you tomorrow night at the party. I expect you to save me at least one dance.”
Her expression finally lightened, and he made a note to ask what the problem was. Tomorrow.
Tonight he had to fix his own problems.
“Good luck, Boss. Personally, I think she’s a fool if she doesn’t take you back.”
He pressed a kiss to her temple, sealing a deal they’d made official only this morning. “Have fun, Tru. January second will be here soon enough.”
New year. New business.
New start.
* *
“Just a minute. I’m coming.”
Whoever was knocking on her door at quarter after eleven could have at least had the decency to do it quietly, Sabrina thought as she hurried for the door.
She’d thrown on her robe, because she’d already been undressed and ready to get into the shower.
When she opened the door, no one was there.
“What the—?”
The envelope sitting outside her door was white and stood out against the blue-and-black-patterned carpet in the hall.
Greg’s handwriting made her heart pound, and she quickly looked both ways down the hall but she saw no one.
Open now.
Bending to pick up the envelope, she frowned at the weight.
Curiosity got the better of her as she straightened and closed the door.
When she ripped open the envelope, a red keycard slid out with a sticky note attached.
Just in case.
He thought she might have given up her card for the fourth floor. She’d meant to. Had planned to. Sooner or later. As it was, it still sat on her bedside table.
There was something else in the envelope as well.
Tipping it again, an eggshell-blue, drawstring bag with the words Tiffany & Co. on it fell into her hand.
Her mouth dropped open and she could barely draw in enough air to breathe.
With shaking fingers, she opened the bag and turned it over her palm. A chain fell out. It was silver, probably platinum, as was the skeleton-key pendant encrusted with sparkly bits that sure as hell looked like real diamonds.
This time the note was stuffed in the little blue bag.
Meet me in the Salon at midnight.
Her gaze automatically went to the clock on the microwave. She had just enough time for a shower.
If she was going.
She stared at that necklace for a full minute before making up her mind.
* *
Greg sat in the Salon, fingers tapping an impatient rhythm on the arm of his chair.
He’d been staring at the door into the Salon for the past half hour, willing it to open.
The fact that it wasn’t midnight yet didn’t make him any less anxious.
He wanted her now. He’d wanted her to pick up the envelope, read the note, and want him so badly she couldn’t wait until midnight to get here.
Obviously, that hadn’t happened.
The ornate clock on the fireplace mantel in one corner of the octagon-shaped room ticked over. One minute to midnight.
He’d set the fire and turned off the lights, the glow of the flames setting exactly the right tone for the seduction he’d planned.
The fire couldn’t illuminate the entire room but it did give enough light to show the silk wallpaper, the plush carpets, and the lush fabrics that covered the chaise lounges, chairs, and ottomans.
Jared’s vision for this room had been inspired by Victorian salons, and Greg knew if he ever did a period piece, he was hiring Jared to consult on set design. The guy had one hell of an eye.
A crystal chandelier in the center of the ceiling hung directly over a mahogany game table. Tyler’s baby grand piano held court in the corner across from the fireplace, while several seating areas were set up around the room.
If you didn’t look too closely at what Jared had on display in the floor-to-ceiling glass-front display cabinet on another wall, or notice the few pieces of furniture equipped with sturdy rings for attaching handcuffs or ropes . . . well, then, you kind of missed the point of the room.
Maybe he should’ve told her to meet at his suite. But he’d wanted to meet somewhere they wouldn’t be disturbed. Hell, he’d even left his phone in his room.
Kate had told him Sabrina had made plans to use the Salon with him before he’d left the last time. Maybe she’d taken one look and decided to stay far, far away. Maybe she thought—
The door opened and his heart tripped over itself to keep beating.
The low light from the hall backlit her so he couldn’t see her face. And since he sat out of reach of the glow from the fire, she might not be able to see him.
He held his breath as she hesitated in the door for several seconds, only releasing it when she walked through and closed it behind her.
“Greg?”
“I’m here, Bree.”
She turned toward the sound of his voice, taking another step into the room before stopping. The fireplace was at the other end of the room from where he sat, and far enough away that she probably couldn’t see him clearly.
“Where exactly is here?”
Rising from his chair, he walked toward her until they could see each other clearly.
She’d taken the time he’d sat here worrying to change, and he barely contained his growl of approval. Or the urge to rip the dress off her.
Made of some silky material he couldn’t wait to get his hands on, the simple black dress molded to each and every curve the way his hands wanted to. If he was right, he’d only have to tug on the bow at her hip to get it open. The neckline plunged far enough that he could see the black lace of her bra beneath.
“You got my messages.”
Her eyebrows arched and he’d already started to smile when she said, “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“And I’m grateful for that.”
Tipping her head to the side, she waited for him to continue.
He sighed. “Not gonna give me any leeway, are you?”
“Should I?”
“Probably not. So . . . Kate told me you signed the waiver days ago. Wanna tell me why?”
“Do you think it’s any of your business?”
“I’m hoping it is, yeah.”
Instead of answering, she motioned toward the fireplace. “Can we sit for this conversation?”
“Only if you sit next to me and, when we’re done, I get to pull on that bow and unwrap you like a present.”
She started to smile then bit her lips like she was trying to hide it. “Greg . . .”
“No debate.”
He scooped her up in his arms and held her against his chest as he walked to the loveseat near the marble fireplace.
Her eyes widened but she slid her arms around his neck and held on. When he sat, he kept her on his lap.
He already had an erection, and it throbbed even harder at the press of her ass against his thighs. He barely controlled the urge to kiss her and forget the talking, at least for now.
“Now, talk.”
She wrinkled her nose at his command. Fucking adorable. “Fine. I planned to meet you here one nig
ht but you left.”
“And that’s why you told me we were through? Because you realize life with me would be a series of interruptions?”
She shook her head. “No, I realized I loved you, but I knew that when you left after the movie was finished I might not see you again, and I couldn’t handle it.”
His mouth curved in a hard grin. “And what if I told you I don’t want to leave you.”
Her answering smile was bittersweet as her hands sank into his hair, winding through it and tugging, which made his cock tighten even more. “I might be willing to give up everything to make it happen. But I’m not sure I want to be that person, the woman whose life is defined by the guy she’s seeing.”
“What guy in his right mind would want a woman like that? Not me, babe.”
“Then what do you want?”
“You. Do you trust me?”
“If I didn’t, I never would’ve let you take those pictures of me.”
He smiled, hope making his heart pound. “Then trust me when I say I don’t want to wake up in a bed without you ever again. And yes, I know that’s gonna be impossible but here’s my propo—”
She kissed him, short-circuiting his brain and anything he might have added to the rest of that sentence.
It didn’t matter now. She’d given him her answer whether she’d said the words or not. And he was going to hold her to them. And hold her against him for as long as he could. Preferably forever.
Of course, he still hadn’t told her about the move. That could wait. Because she was kissing him like she was afraid she’d never see him again.
Her hands cupped his jaw as her lips moved over his, demanding a response he was only too willing to give. His hands tightened on her hips, lifting her so she could straddle his lap. And he really fucking liked this dress because it split apart to let her.
Now on her knees, she was slightly taller than him, and he had the unfamiliar sensation of looking up at her when she pulled back.
Her hair fell around his face, brushing against his shoulders until he wanted to take off his shirt so he could feel it against his chest.
Actually, he wanted her to remove his shirt. And maybe he was just a little bit telepathic because she drew back then, reached for the hem, and began to lift it over his head.
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