Meaning to protest, Petra yielded to his embrace instead and allowed him to sweep her across the floor in a surprisingly skilled three-step elegant waltz. She had always loved the waltz. It reminded her of dancing with her father when she was a little girl, her small feet resting on top of his size eleven shoes, twirling away in big circles. She had once dreamed of being a graceful dancer in a ball gown, spinning around a stately hall in Austria with a dashing young man. Now, in the arms of this beautiful man, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to believe in that magic again.
The music finally began to wind down and suddenly, they were standing still in the middle of the dance floor, Sam still holding her in his arms, with his warm hands flat against her bare back. His chin rested on top of her head and her face nestled in his neck. She could smell his fresh scent, a mixture of soap and a subtle aftershave, and she realized she liked it. She really liked it! Awakened from this dream by the sudden realization that they were standing in the middle of an art gallery holding each other amongst a crowd of people, Petra pushed away abruptly.
“Prickly Petra is back,” Sam commented with a crooked smile. “Why don’t you allow yourself a little down time?”
Bullets in her eyes, Petra could almost feel the bristling of her skin at his words. “I don’t know what you mean nor do I care to find out,” she spat, turning forcefully away from him and stepping away. His arm shot forward and grabbed hold of hers, stopping her in her tracks and twisting her back to face him. “Let me go.”
His smoldering eyes scanned her from head to toe. “Did I tell you that you look beautiful?” he said quite unexpected. With a gentle pull, Sam drew her closer. “I so want to kiss those lips,” he whispered, mouth dangerously and deliciously close to hers, daring her. In an instant, the world around them ceased to exist. Forgetting about the high-end crowd, the waiters walking around with trays full of cocktails, the small chamber orchestra in the corner, the amazing art on the walls and on pedestals, their bodies melded into each other. Lips met in a moist, hungry kiss that left both of them breathless.
“Maybe we should go somewhere else,” Sam whispered when they finally came up for air.
Is he on fire like I am? Petra’s body tingled and craved release, fully aware of his warm body reacting to hers. Her half-closed eyes stared at him, unfocused and dreamy. “Where?” she asked incongruously. At that moment, that spot in the center of a crowded art exhibition felt just right. Why change it? “I’m okay here,” she whispered, inching her lips toward his again.
Sam laughed softly. “No, no,” he said, taking a quick look around him. “I think we’ve attracted enough attention, sweetheart.” For the first time, Petra was aware of her surroundings. Curious faces—lots of them—were looking at them, some with a smile, others not so kindly. She took a deep breath and almost stumbled on weak legs when Sam let go of his tight embrace. “Shall we?” he asked, his hand gently prodding her toward the front door. Like an automaton, she moved along with him and barely registered the warm shawl he placed over her shoulders to protect her from the outside chill. However, once the cold air of a typical Seattle evening hit her full force, she snapped out of her trance with a jolt.
“Are you okay?” he asked when she suddenly stopped moving. “My car is just around the corner. We can get out of this cold.”
“Where do you think you’re taking me?” she asked, rougher than she had intended. “I wasn’t finished in there.”
“Of course you were,” he said, slightly patronizing. “The guards wouldn’t allow you to snoop around anymore. You know that.” As he spoke, his hands were busy rearranging the shawl over her shoulders in an oddly protective gesture. Her eyes followed his hands before settling on his eyes with a question. “Sorry, I just don’t want you to catch a cold,” he apologized with a grin. “Your shoulders are very…naked.”
For some reason, that comment struck her as extremely funny and she burst into laughter soon followed by him. “All right, mother hen,” she said between giggles. “My naked shoulders will be all right, I promise.”
Sobered up by the word, Sam swallowed hard, his eyes undressing her as he skimmed the length of her body. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he confessed. “What am I going to do with you?”
“You don’t have to worry yourself about me,” she rebutted with gusto. “I’m a big girl and I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. So, thanks for the waltz and have a great night.” She turned to walk away, but once again, Sam had reached out and held her by her arm.
“Don’t get mad,” he begged with some urgency, “I didn’t mean it that way. Of course you can take care of yourself. I meant…” He was breathing hard and his eyes were locked on her mouth. “I meant, what am I going to do about how I feel about you?”
With a sigh, her expression softened and her hand reached out to caress his face. He had a good face—masculine with sharp, well-defined angles and an aquiline nose that screamed class and personality. But his eyes were the shining stars of his face—green and soft, framed by strong protruding brows that seemed to protect the fluid beauty held within. Her heart melted as she traced his brows with her fingers, then his cheeks, his eagle nose, and his luscious soft lips. The air between them crackled and it became increasingly harder to breathe. “Take me home,” she whispered, not sure of what exactly she meant by it.
Driving his silver Jeep Rubicon, Sam was quiet, focused on the road rather than on her it seemed, and that was all right with her. Not sure how to feel or what to say, Petra was more than happy to travel in silence while she tried to make sense of the whirlwind of contradictory feelings inside of her. Getting romantically involved right now was the last thing she wanted to do, but she was so drawn to this stranger she had met in the silly closet in Jonas’ apartment. How ridiculous was that? What did that absurd first chance encounter say about them and their relationship? Did they even have anything that remotely qualified as a relationship?
By the time the Jeep stopped in her driveway, Petra was nowhere near finding an answer to her own questions and felt more confused than ever. Sam was still stoically quiet, hands on the wheel, eyes stubbornly aimed at the dashboard. “Can I walk you to your door?” he asked finally, moving his liquid eyes slowly toward hers.
Gentleman-like as usual, he got out of the car and came to the passenger side to open her door. They walked slowly down the driveway toward the front door as the light turned itself on, inundating everything in a soft pearly glow. The walk was far too short and soon they were standing by the door, both shivering from the cold and the yearning that raked through their bodies and souls. This time, Petra made the first move. Reaching up for his neck, she pulled his head greedily to hers and devoured him in a passionate kiss. She could feel his now cold hands on her bare back, searching, caressing, and begging for more. Just as she had made the move to kiss him, she made them stop abruptly, leaving them both unfulfilled and incomplete. “Goodnight, Sam,” she managed to say before opening the door and hiding inside, her heart nearly exploding in frustration. It’s better this way. Take it slowly, really slow…
Petra couldn’t help herself; she ran to the phone and called Alina. It felt good to have her friend back in her life, to have another woman to talk to. She hadn’t realized how lonely she was until that moment. As she waited for her friend to pick up on the other end, Petra gently bit her lip, her heart light as a feather for the first time in a long while.
“Alina?” she asked, leaning closer to the receiver. “Guess what?” For the next thirty minutes, Petra relayed to Alina how she felt about a certain man who had unexpectedly taken hold of her life and was successfully doing the same with her heart.
Later, lying in bed and reeling from frustration and wanting anew, she reviewed the evening in her head. As she took herself on a mental tour of her night at the gala, she realized that she had never asked Sam what he was doing there. For once, she didn’t think he had followed her. He was wearing a tuxedo, proof that he had planne
d to be there. So, why was he there? She knew him to be an art lover, but…he had been on the second floor with her. There was no art on the second floor, just offices and utilities. And she was sure she had not been followed, which meant he had been there all along and she was the one who had unwittingly surprised him.
What was his deal? First the closet, then the church, now the gala…what was he up to? No one at the gala seemed to be acquainted with him either, which was strange. She knew them all, even though she was sure they wouldn’t be able to identify her in a lineup. She was a nobody who just happened to have been married to Jonas Linden. Now that they were divorced, she was back to being invisible to his so-called society friends. But she knew them. She could name them all if she was asked. A lifetime of being an introvert had given her the chance to study others very closely without ever being noticed.
Sam, what is your game? Who are you? She stared at the stars painted on her ceiling. Are you playing me? She didn’t think his obvious desire for her was a play, but who was to say that their mutual attraction was not a nice unexpected bonus for whatever he was up to? After all, she knew close to nothing about this man. So little indeed that she didn’t even know what he did for a living. All she knew was that they were drawn together like powerful magnets and that, in spite of herself, she was beginning to think letting go and giving in to their attraction might not be such a bad thing after all.
Chapter Three
SECRETS, FERRIES, AND REVELATIONS
Petra
Petra couldn’t remember the last time she had had a girls’ night out. When Alina had called and asked if she wanted to go out on the town, she had been almost speechless. The last time they had been together was shortly after Petra returned from her honeymoon. Alina had come to see her after a phone call gave her the impression all was not well. Petra had not confided in her friend then, even though she was bursting at the seams to do so.
Her honeymoon had been less than heavenly; Jonas was already starting to show his true colors. Petra had spent a great deal of time alone during a vacation that was meant to be about their relationship. At the time, Petra did not dare ask where or what he had been doing while she wasted away her days sitting by the pool or in the room reading. She had thought that maybe she was being too demanding or held too high expectations. It is probably normal for brides to be a little disappointed in their honeymoon, she thought, justifying Jonas’ less than attentive behavior.
Back home, Petra was relieved to go back to a daily routine, but was also painfully aware that her new husband was not interested in them being a couple outside the bedroom and social events. When Alina called, she was more than happy to distract herself from the wreck her married life was quickly turning out to be. But this reunion of sorts didn’t quite work out the way she was hoping. Alina seemed to be distracted and ill-at-ease, almost as if she was disappointed about Jonas’ absence. Her eyes kept darting around Petra as if searching for something, and their subsequent meetings were all awkward and fleeting as if Alina couldn’t wait to leave. Alina’s seemingly short attention span left Petra feeling lonely and despondent. Shortly after, she had called her with the news of her imminent move to Canada. Petra hadn’t seen her since their rushed goodbyes and she had to admit that, even though slightly suspicious, she was delighted to have Alina back in her life. She didn’t have a lot of friends, and she kept herself so busy she didn’t have much time to cultivate friendships either.
Putting on her coat, Petra left the magazine office to go meet her estranged friend at a local coffee shop. Sam was working, she guessed. Doing what he did best, whatever that might be. She hadn’t seen him in a few days. As much as that irked her, she had caught herself thinking of him more often than she cared to admit. He had somehow insinuated himself into her life, her thoughts, and even—if she were to be totally honest—her heart. I hate you, Sam Corra.
Crossing the café’s front doors, she saw Alina sitting in the back. She waved and studied her longtime friend; she was even more beautiful than Petra remembered, with long, flowing golden hair, big, almond-shaped blue eyes, and beautiful alabaster skin. Slim and curvy in all the right places, Alina attracted male attention wherever she went. Even now, sitting quietly in a corner of the small coffee shop, she seemed to radiate the kind of raw sexuality that guys went crazy over. Petra smiled. She may have been jealous on occasion, but mostly it amused her. “Alina,” she called. Her friend looked up at her and grinned, waving her hand.
After a series of hugs and giggles, the two friends sat down together with a hot cup of coffee to catch up on the last five years. “I hear you divorced Jonas,” Alina said at one point. “Is that true?”
Petra cringed and nodded. “It didn’t work out.” She was unwilling to talk much about her failed marriage, even with an old friend. “What about you? Did you get married in Canada?”
“No, all the good men are taken, it seems,” she said. They shared a conspiratorial chuckle. “I moved back to the States about a year ago. I know I should have gotten in touch with you, but I was trying to get my life running again. And, of course, I was also embarrassed that I had walked out on you.”
“Not that I care anymore,” Petra confessed sincerely. “But why did you?”
Alina lowered her eyes for a moment in thought. Then, she looked back up. “I didn’t want to tell you back then,” she started. “It was unsettling, and I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
“What do you mean?” Petra asked, her heart skipping a beat. What now?
“Well…” The normally outspoken woman now sounded coy and reluctant to speak. “Your husband…I mean, ex-husband was, how can I put it? He was making advances…”
Petra’s eyes blazed. “Jonas was hitting on you?”
“More than just flirting,” Alina continued, encouraged by Petra’s outrage. “At one point, he was suggesting we should go away together for a few days.”
Floored, Petra stuttered, not knowing what to say. She shouldn’t have been surprised her ex would do something like that, but she was shocked she had never noticed it. “I don’t know what to say, Alina,” she said. “I wish you had said something. I knew he was a philanderer, but I didn’t know he had tried it on you, as well.”
“Of course, I didn’t give him the time of day,” the other woman said. Petra didn’t quite remember it that way. Even though she hadn’t suspected anything untowardly going on, she did recall Alina being very friendly with her husband at the time. She assumed it was her friend’s way to respect Petra’s choice in spouse. “I may have looked friendly when we were around you, but when we found ourselves alone, I made it very clear to him I was not going to do anything to hurt you. He didn’t like that very much.”
“I bet,” Petra said. It kept getting better and better; the more she learned about her rat of a husband, the angrier she got with herself for having put up with him for as long as she had. “Well, you should still have told me, but I see how you’d be afraid it would put a damper in our friendship.”
“Yes, I did not want to be the one to tell you that you were married to a jerk,” she said. “It became so uncomfortable that I decided to start distancing myself from you. When that chance to move to Canada came, it was heaven sent. But I feel bad, Petra, because I left you alone with that idiot.”
“He was my idiot to take care of,” Petra said, trying to make a joke but coming out flat. “It’s all in the past, Alina, and I am very glad to see you again.”
Alina reached out and grabbed one of her friend’s hands in hers. “So, what have you been up to?”
They talked for a while about their separate lives, their careers, their dreams, and even their wardrobe before it was time to go their separate ways again. With the promise of a phone call, Alina left. Petra stood by the coffee shop watching her friend walk down the street in her sexy way, attracting more than a few admiring male glances. She was trying to decide whether she was indeed happy that Alina was back or if it was too big of a reminder of
the worst years of her life. With a small smile, she concluded it was never a bad thing to have a friend and went back to work.
Sam picked her up from work later that day. He had called earlier to chat and when he found out that she had taken the bus to town, he had immediately offered to drive her home. Petra had almost refused, still not quite sure what to think about him and more than a little unsettled by their mutual attraction. In the end, she couldn’t refute the fact that not only was she glad to avoid the long bus ride home, but that she was also excited to see him again. His handsome face appeared behind the window as he leaned over the passenger seat to unlock the door for her. Being a small person, Petra had trouble climbing in his very tall car, and Sam seemed amused by that fact.
“When you’re done enjoying yourself at my expense, let me know,” Petra said with a fake pout. She really didn’t care. She was so used to struggling with her small stature it was very hard to hurt her feelings anymore. She was actually rather proud of her petite figure, and it was one of the few things about herself she had fully embraced as an adult. There were other characteristics of herself she was not so quick to accept or cherish. Her penchant to be too tolerant was one of them, one which she had been actively fighting against for the past few years. She needed to toughen up.
“How was work at the magazine?” he asked, stepping on the gas and merging into traffic.
“Fine as usual, nothing too exciting,” she said, giving him a sideways glance. “You?”
“Being a super spy for the government is always exciting,” he joked, avoiding any elaboration. “It was okay, I guess. Nothing to write home about.”
They were quiet for a bit while Petra entertained herself by watching the city move around them. She liked Seattle because even though it was a large busy city, life here seemed to proceed much slower than in other major cities. People were somehow more relaxed, as if they knew rushing wouldn’t get them anywhere faster. Maybe it had something to do with all that pure oxygen they breathed in every day. She giggled out loud as she envisioned a giant oxygen tank hovering over the city.
We Will Always Have the Closet Page 4