Sam’s face flushed as she looked away from him and straight ahead toward the wall. But her ear was still close to the phone, her hair still close to his lips. In fact, his chin nearly rested on the top of her head as her mother rambled on with a long list of her daughter’s talents.
Embarrassed, Sam tried to pry the phone out of his hand. He frowned, letting her know he wasn’t going anywhere until Mom said goodbye.
“No,” he said into the receiver, leaning low, his jaw brushing against Sam’s cheek, his lips once again within centimeters of her ear. “I didn’t know that Sam won the hula competition in seventh grade. She’s full of surprises.”
Sam rolled her eyes.
“Yes, I think you’re right,” Dominic told Sam’s mom. “She’s being shy.”
Sam jabbed him with her elbow.
“Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll get her to do the hula for me if it’s the last thing I do.”
He could hear someone talking to Mrs. Johnston in the background, a male voice telling her to warn Dominic about Sam’s inability to cook a decent meal, how she always broke things, earning her the nickname Grace. The voice continued on about how she was a tomboy and wanted to be like her brothers but could never measure up. He also heard Sam’s mom defending her, saying she had other talents.
Suddenly Dominic had a glimpse of where Sam’s insecurities might have begun.
He felt Sam stiffen, and he found himself wanting to know what she was thinking. A definite first.
“Yes, I’m still here,” he told Mrs. Johnston when she thought she’d lost the connection.
Sam shook her head adamantly when her mother began to talk about having another wedding ceremony for the family.
“That’s a great idea,” he said. “If it’ll make you happy, we could have another ceremony at the house in Malibu.”
As Sam’s mother made plans, he inhaled again, unable to get enough of her fresh, citrusy smell.
“It was nice to finally get a chance to talk to you, too,” he said, his attention focused on the softness of Sam’s hair against his lips. “I look forward to meeting all of you. Goodbye.”
He laid the receiver in the cradle, but made no attempt to move away from Sam. And neither did she attempt to move away from him. The only sound was the gentle whoosh of the ocean through the open doors leading to the balcony. He’d hardly talked to Sam in three days, and at the moment he remembered why. Every time he was near her, he found himself wanting to take her into his arms and ravish her. Heat swept through his body, every muscle constricting from sheer desire.
But he refused to make that mistake again. If she wanted something more between them, she was going to have to make the first move. The notion that he wanted her so much made him angry. She was a reporter. She was here because of a story, for God’s sake.
“You have no idea what you just did,” Sam told him.
“What did I do?”
“My mother will never let you forget what you said about having another wedding.”
“You’re right. I got carried away.” Dominic raked all ten fingers through his hair. If she thought this was bad, she wasn’t going to be happy to discover they would be sharing a bedroom—and a bed—once they were back home. Unlike the honeymoon suite, where he could toss the blanket and the pillow he used each night back onto the bed, back home there was the cleaning staff and landscapers to worry about. If they were going to pull this stunt off, they needed to play the happily married couple every day and every night until this whole marriage thing was over.
Before either of them could say another word, a knock sounded. Dominic looked through the peephole and cursing under his breath, opened the door.
Julia sashayed past him, her head held high, her spine stiff. Her white blonde hair was pulled back in a thick ponytail that swayed with each movement of her hips.
Dominic peered down the hall, making sure reporters and photographers hadn’t followed her and then shut the door behind her. “What are you doing here?”
Julia’s gaze swept over Sam before she continued her search through the rest of the suite. “Where is she?”
“Who?”
“Your new wife?”
“She’s standing right here.”
Julia twirled about, her gaze locking on Sam once again.
“This is the woman you married?”
“Thanks to you, I was sort of left in a bind,” Dominic argued. “My selection of wives was limited after you deserted me.”
“Hey,” Sam said, “I thought you said I was beautiful.”
“You are, sweetheart,” he assured her.
“Sweetheart?” Julia’s eyes turned red. “You told her she was beautiful?”
“She’s my wife, isn’t she?”
Sam crossed her arms tightly over her chest.
“I should be your wife,” Julia stated firmly.
He raked his fingers through his hair. “Julia, what’s this about? Why are you here?”
Julia’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t believe you would stoop this low.”
“For the life of me I can’t understand why you would be upset.”
“The moment the plane took off, I knew I had made a mistake.” She stepped close to him, her breasts snug against his chest. “I truly thought you would come for me. I thought we had something special. I thought you loved me.”
Julia rested her cheek against his shoulder. “I’ve changed my mind. Annul your marriage and marry me. I’m ready.”
He sighed.
“Maybe I should leave the two of you alone and give you some time to sort this out,” Sam said.
Dominic detached Julia from his chest. “No. Julia’s leaving.”
Julia’s hands fisted at her sides. “I am not leaving. We can straighten this out. Just give me another chance.” Her hands landed on his chest. She left a trail of kisses over his neck. “Let me make it up to you,” she purred. “Our relationship will be better than ever.”
“Julia, I don’t know where this is coming from. I’m not in love with you, and I never pretended to be.”
Julia slapped him hard, and then whipped around to face Sam.
Sam ducked, but there was no need because Julia merely growled and pointed a finger at her. “Have you already slept with him?”
“Well, umm…I—”
“That’s enough,” Dominic ground out.
“He’s going to do everything in his power to get you into his bed and keep you there. All lies,” Julia told Sam. “He’ll promise you the world and then when it comes time to toss you aside for somebody else, he won’t bother to spare you a glance.”
“I never promised you anything, Julia. I thought we were friends. I never meant to hurt you.” He opened the door. “I think you should leave now.”
Julia turned to face Dominic. “I can’t believe you chose her over me.”
“You’re the one who ditched me.”
“And you replaced me with that.” Julia lifted her chin.
“Don’t talk that way about her.”
“There is the press to consider,” Julia said with a sneer. “I know why you married Plain Jane.”
“There is nothing plain about her.”
Julia huffed. “I’ll give you some time to think about it, but if you don’t divorce her, I’m going to go public.” She left, slamming the door behind her.
Dominic locked the door.
“Wow,” Sam said. “That woman is pissed off at you.”
Dominic didn’t respond.
“I thought you said Julia was a friend doing you a favor.”
“That was my take on the situation. I never said or did anything to make her think there was anything more than friendship between us. Women,” he added with distaste.
“Men,” Sam said with an equal amount of revulsion. “You slept with her, didn’t you?”
“Maybe I did, but listen carefully,” Dominic said, his jaw hardening, “because I’m only going to tell you this once. Contrary to popular b
elief, I do not sleep with every woman I meet. In fact, the two of us,” he added, waggling a finger between them, “did not make love on our wedding night.”
“Of course we did. I was naked. You were naked. I was glowing.”
“True,” he said with a smirk, wishing he could pick her up and carry her to the king-sized bed, despite his foul mood. Every part of him wanted her, tension shimmering between them. “You were definitely glowing and we were both naked,” he said, “but we hardly did much more than kiss. And so you have nothing to regret.”
“Why did you lie?”
“Let’s just say you jumped to conclusions and I didn’t stop you.”
“You said we used protection.”
“Okay, I lied. But never again. Nothing but the truth. Deal?”
“Sure,” she said without enthusiasm. “Nothing but the truth.”
Chapter Eleven
Dominic watched the sun make its final descent as the limousine drove through Malibu.
He looked away from the window and rested his eyes on Sam. The corners of his mouth curved upward at seeing her sprawled over the seat across from him, one arm twisted awkwardly on top of her head as the other dangled off the edge of the leather seat. Her mouth hung open and every so often, a soft snorting sound came out of her mouth.
The woman snored.
He’d somehow missed that during their past week together. Their honeymoon suite had been extraordinarily large and he’d spent every night sleeping on the couch. But not one night had gone by where he hadn’t wanted to crawl into bed with his temporary wife and make love to her. Hell, she’d wanted him, too; he’d seen it in her eyes and he felt it in every pretend kiss they shared whenever the paparazzi came around. But he’d told Sam he wouldn’t touch her and she’d have to make the first move, which meant he’d have to be patient.
He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to get a grip. And yet all he could think about was how the hell was he going to live with Sam Johnston for three months without touching her? It was a dilemma—one he’d never experienced before.
He was used to women offering their bodies and though he didn’t always take what was offered, he liked having a choice. Sex was fun and fleeting and it was also the one thing he could offer the women he dated since he wasn’t capable of giving them anything else. Love was a farce; his mom taught him that years ago when she’d left him with his dad. He was ten. How could she have left him with a drunk? He’d learned the hard way that women were temporary, and somewhere along the way, he’d grown to prefer life that way.
Exhaling, he continued to stare at Sam Johnston. The poor girl wore her emotions on her sleeves. What you saw was what you got. Most of the women he’d dated were reserved and weeks went by before he discovered any intimate details about them. But he thought when the next three months were over, he’d know Sam inside and out.
Or would he?
So many people had betrayed him in his lifetime, he couldn’t help but wonder if she was merely good at playing games.
His gaze traveled the length of her. She managed to pack a lot of shape into a very small package. She might not be voluptuous and curvy, but she was all woman. Today she wore jeans and a white cotton tee that had hiked up a bit, revealing a sliver of flawless ivory skin.
The limousine took a sharp left before pulling up the long flagstone driveway leading to his home. When the vehicle came to a stop, Dominic noticed Sam’s notebook tucked under her hip. He’d seen her writing in the thing a lot over the past few days and then again on the airplane. He reached for it.
“Touch it and you die.”
“She’s alive,” he said with a chuckle.
Sleepily, she pushed herself to an upright position, then tucked the notebook into her purse and peered out the window. Her jaw dropped. “Wow, is that your house? How could you own such a large house? I thought you lost all of your money to your uncle.”
His jaw tightened. “I owned this house years before my uncle decided to swindle me.” His gaze followed hers and he looked upon his house. He’d bought the Old World Spanish hacienda from Dustin Hoffman five years ago. The house sat amid lush tropical landscaping, which gave it more privacy than many in the area. The truth was he should have sold the house the minute he’d heard what his uncle had done, but the idea of selling because of his uncle’s actions didn’t sit well with him. “Enjoy it while you can,” he said before he climbed out of the limo.
The sun had set, but the moon was full and round, which made for a nice backdrop.
Sam followed him through an old-world gate made of thick lumber and twisted iron. The Spanish tiled entry led them past a stone fountain lit with small underwater lights. Water trickled off the stone and into the fountain.
Dominic opened the door. It was unlocked, which meant Maria was home. He still hadn’t told Sam they would be forced to share a bed for the next three months. The notion made him smile. When he turned back to face Sam, he wondered what had happened to the girl in the wedding dress, the one who had fallen on top of him and laughed after he saved her from being crushed in a human stampede, the woman in the elevator whose eyes had said kiss me, damn it, and make it good.
That particular woman had disappeared.
Sam had metamorphosed back into a stiff, unbending reporter. She no longer resembled the cute little snoring nymph he’d seen five short minutes ago. When he wasn’t looking, she had used a clip to fasten her hair in a knot at the top of her head. She stood rigid before him, wearing a frown and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses.
This Sam Johnston looked nothing like the woman who had wrapped her arms around his neck and asked him to carry her over the threshold on their wedding night.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, obviously detecting his worry.
“Where did those glasses come from?”
“Why, do they bother you?”
“No, it’s just that they make you look much too serious. I don’t recall you wearing those before.”
“I’ve been wearing contacts. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so quick to marry a complete stranger. I could be hiding a whole suitcase full of deadly secrets.”
Any hint of a smile completely vanished.
“Truthfully, I wasn’t planning on being away from home this long,” she told him. “The contacts I wear are disposable and they only last a few days. I’ll need to go to my apartment tomorrow and get my—what are you doing?”
He reached behind her head and undid the clip that bound her hair. Then he slipped her glasses from her face. “There. That’s the girl I married. Just checking to make sure it’s really you.”
She reached out a hand. “Give me my glasses, please.”
He leaned close, his lips inches from hers. “There’s a guy in the tree behind me. He has a camera. I thought we’d give him a run for his money.”
“You can’t be serious.” Sam pushed him away. “Nice try,” she said before she grabbed her glasses from him, slipped them on and headed across the sloped green grass surrounding the property. Stopping at the grassy edge, she peered up into the regiment of trees and tried to make out a shape in the shadows.
A bright light flashed. Somebody was definitely out there.
“Whoever you are,” Sam shouted, “you better get out of here. You’re on private property and I’m calling the police.”
A few minutes later, Sam joined him in the kitchen. “Did you call the police?”
He shook his head and instead filled a glass with water from the filtered tap, enjoying himself as she frantically searched for the phone sitting on the built-in desk in the corner.
After she located the phone, Dominic took the receiver from her and laid it back in its cradle.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling the police won’t do any good. The guy in the tree will be gone before they get here and you’ll be stuck filling out paperwork for an hour.”
“You’re kidding?”
“I’m not.”
�
��This happens all the time?”
“More often than not.”
She exhaled, seemingly deep in thought as if she were truly bothered, which didn’t make sense. “Why so surprised?” he asked her. “You’re a tabloid reporter. You’re actually a part of the slimy side of glitzy media.”
“Listen to you, Mr. Celebrity/Media Whore.”
He laughed. Twice in five minutes—unprecedented.
“Truthfully, my dream career is investigative reporting, but I have to start somewhere. Otherwise, I’d have no choice but to live with my parents.”
He looked at her for a moment, wondering if she were telling the truth.
“What about you?” she asked. “Have you always wanted to be an actor?”
He leaned a hip against the granite countertop. “I got the acting bug when I was very young. I was a shy kid with little confidence, but the moment I stepped onto the stage, I became another person altogether. I’ve never looked back.”
Their gazes locked, each sizing the other up, neither trusting the other.
Sam looked toward the French doors leading to the backyard. “You didn’t tell me you lived on the beach.”
“You didn’t ask.”
She stepped outside onto a stone patio. There was a pool surrounded by beautiful sculptures. Steep wooden stairs led to the beach below.
Dominic followed her outside. Her hair remained unclipped and the ocean breeze caused flyaway strands to cling to her cheeks and chin. Sam was a natural beauty with an abundance of sex appeal and yet it was plain to see she truly had no idea.
The sound of the tide lapping against the shore calmed him as he inhaled the tangy scent of ocean air.
“Stunning,” Sam said. After a moment, she looked over her shoulder at him and sighed. “What am I doing here?”
“What do you mean?”
She held her arms toward the ocean. “Look at this place. It’s paradise.” Next she looked at the ring on her finger. “One day I’m sneaking around a church in New York looking for a story and the next thing I know I’m married to you, one of the sexiest men in America.” She shook her head. “Mind boggling.”
Here Comes the Bride Page 6