And then she slept.
Dominic didn’t sleep.
He lay there and stared at the ceiling, trying to sort things out.
This was the later during which he was supposed to be fixing dinner and going over the papers he needed to look at before morning. But Sierra was asleep in his arms and he didn’t want to disturb her.
That was why he didn’t move. It had nothing to do with how much he liked just lying there holding her. It had nothing to do with how much he wanted Sierra still.
He didn’t like that he wanted Sierra.
Sex was one thing. But just lying here holding her was something else. That felt…committed.
Dominic wasn’t about to get committed.
Not in his heart.
He’d be faithful. It was just good sense to be faithful. It was fair. Dominic believed in being fair. He had no intention of looking at any other women. He had no desire at all to sleep around. Even if he should ever feel such a desire he wouldn’t do it. Because he’d made a vow.
He believed in vows.
What he didn’t believe in was letting anyone into his heart.
He wasn’t letting Sierra into his heart.
Even thinking about such a thing annoyed him. He wasn’t used to even considering the possibility. He wasn’t used to wanting one this much. And he wasn’t used to having mixed emotions about it.
He wasn’t really used to emotions at all.
After the disaster with Carin, he’d built a good strong wall between himself and the women in his life. He played with them, but he never let them matter. He never fell in love.
And he still hadn’t, he assured himself.
Of course he hadn’t. Imagine being in love with a purple-haired cosmetologist!
Sierra was his wife, yes. But that was for expediency’s sake. He’d wanted to spike his father’s guns once and for all, and she had been the perfect woman to do it with.
She was wild, crazy, exactly wrong for him.
And they had great sex.
What could be better?
Outside the sound of sirens headed up Madison Avenue. Sierra snuggled closer and instinctively Dominic’s arm tightened around her. Then deliberately, determinedly, he loosened it. She didn’t need his protection. Hell, half the time he needed protecting from her!
The sirens receded and, in the silence, he could hear the soft sound of Sierra’s breathing. It ruffled the hairs on his chest. Her soft hair brushed his chin and tickled his lips. He held himself still, resisting the impulse to kiss the top of her head.
They were still having great sex, he reminded himself. Tonight they’d had great sex. He wrapped a strand of purple hair around his fingers. It had been fun. Exhilarating. And he didn’t even have to grab a taxi and go home afterward.
It was more efficient.
Yes, Dominic decided, pleased with that notion. It was efficient to have married Sierra. Efficient. That’s what it was.
Sierra awoke slowly, relishing the end of a lovely dream and snuggling in the soft fine cotton of the sheets. She stretched drowsily, opened her eyes and realized where she was.
Immediately she looked around for Dominic. He wasn’t there. She frowned, then glanced toward the bathroom, expecting to see the door closed and hear the shower running. But the door was open and the bathroom was empty. Bright morning sunlight was peeping through the drapes.
Sierra rolled over—and jerked wide awake. It was seven forty-five!
Her alarm clock hadn’t gone off!
She scrambled out of bed. Why hadn’t he awakened her? Had she forgotten to set her clock? She grabbed it off the table and checked it. Yes, apparently she had. God!
It was what Dominic did to her. He could make her forget her brain if it were trapped inside her head.
She hurried to the bathroom and flicked on the shower. While she waited for the water to warm up, she brushed her teeth. Once she’d done it, she realized that she hadn’t needed to wait. In Dominic’s apartment, unlike her old one, hot water was plentiful and immediate. She jumped in and just wished she had time to enjoy it.
Sometime she would, she vowed. Maybe tonight. Maybe tonight she would take a long leisurely shower—and not alone. She soaped her body quickly and imagined slicking that wonderful spicy smelling soap over the lean hard planes of Dominic’s body. She imagined making him shudder and moan.
Sierra had a good imagination. Way too good. So she flicked the water to cold, yelped and shivered. Then, ardor quenched, she shut it off and jumped out of the shower.
Later, she promised herself. Tonight.
Quickly she toweled her hair dry, wrapped herself in Dominic’s plush robe that hung on the door, then went to fix herself some breakfast. Ordinarily, being late, she might have skipped it. But this morning she was ravenous.
They hadn’t eaten last night—not food anyway. They’d been far too intent on each other to venture into the kitchen. So now she made oatmeal, fried bacon, and while it was cooking, ate a slice of cantaloupe. There was coffee still hot in the coffeemaker. She blessed Dominic and gulped a cup. Then she poured herself another and carrying it, hurried back upstairs to dress. She had to be at Finn MacCauley’s studio a little before nine and now that she was living uptown, she’d have to allow a little more time.
There was no time to do anything clever with her hair, so she arranged it in a casual tousled style, then went into the bedroom where her things were and opened the closet.
Her clothes weren’t there!
None of them. She whipped open the dresser. At least she still had underwear. She grabbed a bra and a pair of panties, then stared once more at the empty closet.
Had Dominic had them throw everything out?
She knew, though he’d never said anything, that he thought some of her clothing was a little over-the-top. But had he married her and then ditched it all?
Incensed, fuming, Sierra stalked back into his bedroom, yanked open the walk-in closet door, ready to do the same to his Brooks Brothers’ pinstripes and his long-sleeved dress shirts—and discovered that all her clothes had been hung in there.
Next to a dozen dark conservative suits and jackets and trousers were her denim miniskirts and Day-Glo tube tops. Next to his long-sleeved button-down shirts were her halter tops and camisoles. And there, at the end of a row on the floor, alongside his wing tips and deck shoes were her strapy sandals and clunky boots.
She laughed—and felt oddly, immeasurably lighter.
At least they weren’t only sharing sex, they were sharing a closet, too.
She picked out a top, then changed her mind and plucked one of Dominic’s shirts off the hanger instead. She slipped it on and flapped the sleeves, then rolled them up to her elbows. It was far too broad in the shoulders and the shirt-tails hit her just inches above her knees. But buttoned, it covered more of her than Sierra normally covered—even if she left the top two buttons open. Besides, wearing it made her feel closer to Dominic. If she rubbed her cheek against the collar she could smell that same clean laundry starch smell she smelled whenever she pressed her face against his chest.
She was going to share his shirt as well. It made her feel good.
She shimmied into a pair of purple leggings, then stuffed her feet into her boots, and cinched her waist with a hot pink belt. Stepping back, she studied her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the door.
The new improved Sierra Kelly Wolfe stared back at her.
Her lips twitched into a smile, then a full-fledged grin. She felt wonderful. Giving herself a thumbs up and one more saucy grin, Sierra headed off to work.
“What do you mean, you got someone else?” She stared at Strong, Finn’s office manager, her jaw sagging. It was ten minutes to nine. She’d taken the downtown subway and had run the last three blocks. She wasn’t late. But Strong had looked astonished to see her and had said Lisa was coming in. “Why would you get someone else?”
“Because Bruce called and said you were booked out.�
��
“What? Why would he say a thing like that?” Sierra thumped her tackle box down. “Give me the phone.”
Furiously she punched in her agent’s number. “Bruce! It’s Sierra. What are you doing? Why did you tell Finn I wasn’t going to be here?”
“Because you booked out, sweetheart.”
“I did no such thing!”
“Well, not you personally,” Bruce said. “But your husband—”
“What? Dominic called you?”
“You betcha, sweetheart. Said you were going on your honeymoon.”
Sierra stood speechless. Finally she managed, “Honeymoon?”
The word stopped her dead. Dominic had called Bruce? Dominic had booked her out? Dominic had said they were going on a honeymoon?
Then why hadn’t Dominic told her?
“What exactly did my, um, husband say?”
“Just that. He called yesterday morning, looking for you. He seemed to think you had already booked out. But I told him you were working, and he asked how far ahead you were scheduled and then he said to unbook you. You didn’t want me to?”
A part of Sierra wanted to tear Bruce’s head off. A part of her wanted to tear off Dominic’s.
How dare he just call up and cancel her jobs?
But another part of her—the closet romantic part—couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. Because he was taking her on a honeymoon.
They would have more than sex and a closet and a shirt shared between them. They would have a real start to their marriage. Time for each other.
For sex, of course.
But for more than that. For getting to know each other. For learning to love each other.
“Oh,” she said and sucked in a deep breath, then let it out a little shakily. “No. That’s all right. You did…fine. Thanks.”
“So you’re out, right?” Bruce said, apparently wanting it from the horse’s mouth this time.
“I’m out.”
“’Till when?”
“I’ll let you know,” she promised, starting to smile, happiness welling up inside her.
As soon as she’d discussed it with Dominic.
CHAPTER FIVE
SHE went back to the apartment and called Pam. “You and Frankie have to come visit.”
“Sierra?” Pam squeaked. “Oh, I’m so glad to hear from you. I was so worried when those movers came. It was so sudden. Of course I should have realized you’d move. I just didn’t think—”
“Neither did I,” Sierra said cheerfully. “But that’s Dominic. He snaps his fingers, the world moves. Or at least I did. You won’t believe this place. You’ve got to see it. Frankie has to see it. Get a cab and come up.” She rattled off the address.
“Oh, we can’t intrude!” Pammie objected.
“You’re not intruding. You’re sharing the experience. Besides, you didn’t think that moving uptown would get me out of your life, did you? Come on. Grab a taxi and come. I’ll pay for it. We’ll have a picnic.”
“Frankie can’t—”
“Inside,” Sierra assured her. “Frankie will love it. Trust me.”
“But—”
“Pammie,” Sierra said sternly. “Don’t abandon me.” It was underhanded and she knew it, playing on Pam’s beholdenness. But it worked.
Pam gave in. “We’ll take the bus.”
Sierra would have disputed that, but she knew her friend already considered herself beholden for half a million dollars. Pammie would be determined not to add cab fare on top of it.
“I’ll see you in an hour,” Sierra said.
Dominic’s kitchen was as well-stocked as the average restaurant. Sierra had seen that when she was fixing herself breakfast. But she doubted Frankie would care, so she made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cut oranges in half, found a bag of “homemade” chocolate-chip cookies in the cupboard, and set everything out on her old madras bedspread in front of the windows in the living room.
“Wow!” Frankie crowed when they arrived. “We are havin’ a picnic! See, Mom?” His normally pale cheeks flushed with enthusiasm as he looked around the apartment, then beamed at his mother. His eyes were alight with excitement. “This is great. It’s like my tree house,” he approved. “Way cool.”
“Way cool,” Pammie agreed and, looking around, too, actually laughed in delight. “This is amazing.”
“Isn’t it?” Sierra said. “Come on. Let’s eat.”
After they finished, she showed them the rest of the apartment. Frankie loved the staircase. He examined it carefully, as if committing it to memory so he could reproduce it on his own designs once he got home. He liked the view and craned his neck to see how far up and down the park he could see. But most of his enthusiasm he saved for “the gear room” and the den next to it. He handled the roller blades and the ice skates and the baseball bats and pounded his fist into Dominic’s fielder’s glove.
“Next year I’m gonna play baseball,” he told his mother and Sierra.
“Yes,” Pammie agreed.
“And I’m gonna ice skate this winter.”
“Well…”
“I am,” Frankie said fervently. “When I get my new kidney. I’m gettin’ one,” he told Sierra. “My doc said.”
“Did he?”
Frankie nodded solemnly. “He said I’ll be better’n new then. Didn’t he?” He looked to his mother for confirmation.
Pam nodded. “Yes.” She smiled at Sierra. “That’s what he said.”
Sierra wanted to hear more of what the doctor said, but she didn’t think Frankie needed to be part of the whole discussion, so she poked through Dominic’s collection of videotapes.
“Raiders of the Lost Ark?” She plucked one out, knowing it was one of Frankie’s favorites. “Want to watch it on the big screen?” She nodded toward the TV.
Frankie looked at his mother beseechingly. “Can I, Mom?”
“I don’t know if we can stay that long,” Pam said.
“Let him start,” Sierra said. “You can always come back and finish another time.”
They left Frankie settled in watching Indiana Jones being chased by headhunters, and she and Pammie went back to the kitchen. Sierra poured them each a cup of tea.
“Tell me what the doctors said?”
“They said he’ll be better than new.” Pam smiled as she echoed what Frankie had said moments before. “Truly, Sierra. They said if they get a match, he’s a great candidate. And because of you, he’s on the list. They are going to be doing tissue samples so they will know when a match exists. They’re testing me, of course, and my sister. And they’ll test Frankie’s father if we find him. Not that I think we’re likely to. Or,” she added grimly, “that Dan would give one up if he knew.”
“Of course he would,” Sierra said. “Frankie’s his son!”
“As if that ever meant a thing to him.” Pam gave herself a little shake. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that out there somewhere there’s going to be a kidney. I’m sure of it. And Frankie will be well again.” She clasped her fingers together and looked heavenward. “Please, God.” Then she looked at Sierra, her expression concerned. “Are you really okay here? I mean, it’s gorgeous and all that. Almost homey, even. But that’s just the trappings. Is he…is he good to you? I couldn’t stand it if he wasn’t good to you.”
Sierra took Pam’s hands in hers, smiling. “Stop worrying. He’s good to me.”
“But can you make it work?” Pammie wanted to know. “Really? I know that you probably have—” she blushed “—great sex. But what about…about everything else? Dan and I had great sex,” she said grimly.
“No. It’s more than that,” Sierra assured her. “It started that way,” she admitted. “And it’s crazy, the two of us are so different. But…we’re going on a honeymoon.”
Pam’s eyes lit up and she squeezed Sierra’s hands. “You are?” she said eagerly. “When? Where?”
“I don’t know yet. He hasn’t said. But…he booked me out. That’s wh
y I was off today.”
Pam’s eyes widened. “He called Bruce and didn’t even tell you?”
Sierra shook her head. “It’s like him. To do something like that spontaneously. In that way, I guess, we are alike.” She grinned. “He’ll tell me tonight. He’ll have to. Because he didn’t tell me this morning and I’m going to have to know. After all I went to work and found out I’d been replaced.”
“Whoa! Really?” Pam looked worried.
“Don’t,” Sierra said, before Pam’s natural instinct to think the worst could kick in. “You don’t know Wolfe. That’s the way he is. Peremptory. Cocky. Determined.”
“Nothing like you.” Pam grinned.
Sierra laughed. “It’s why we strike sparks off each other, that’s for sure. He’ll tell me tonight.” She hugged her arms across her breasts happily.
And then Pam smiled, too. “I’m glad,” she said and gave Sierra a quick hug. “You deserve to be happy, Sierra. Nobody deserves it more.”
Dominic had thought yesterday was bad.
Today was a whole lot worse.
Yesterday he hadn’t been able to get Sierra out of his mind, but at least she’d been at work where he knew he couldn’t just walk in and grab her and haul her home to bed.
Today he knew she was home.
All day long. Or she would be once she got to Finn’s and realized she’d been taken off the books.
He probably should have told her last night, but he hadn’t remembered. He’d been much to intent on the Sierra right in front of him to think about tomorrow.
Then this morning, when he’d been tempted to wake her and indulge in making love to her one more time, he hadn’t because he knew making love with Sierra would not be quick. Once they got started, they would take their time. They would love each other deeply and intensely and furiously.
And that would be fine for her because she could stay there all day. But he had a meeting about the Harker take-over at eight.
So he’d left her asleep while he’d hauled himself out of bed.
Sierra hadn’t stirred. And when he came back after his shower, she’d still been sound asleep. Of course they’d barely slept all night, so she had a right to be tired. And she looked so sweet and peaceful and content that he couldn’t bear to wake her up just to tell her she could go back to sleep again.
The Inconvenient Bride Page 8