Dreaming Of Your Love (Hollywood Legends #3)

by Mary J. Williams

  “Yes, sir.”

  Caleb sat in his large, leather chair, silently contemplating his youngest child.

  “I trust you, Colton.”

  Colt knew he wasn’t expected to answer. Not yet.

  “Sable can kick your ass. Any day of the week and twice on Sunday.”

  “I know that.”

  “That does not give you the right to disrespect her.”

  “You think I would?” The implication hurt—and pissed him off.

  “Not intentionally. Sable isn’t like the women you’re used to.”

  “I agree. She’s special.”

  Caleb raised his eyebrows but didn’t ask what Colt meant by special.

  “All I’m asking is that you refrain from your usual banter. You and Sable will live together. No dropping her at her door. She’s your shadow, Colton. Around the clock.”

  “I’ll tone it down.”

  “That’s all I ask,” Caleb nodded.

  “Dad.”

  Colt frowned, his eyes pensive. God, Caleb thought with affection, he looks like his mother. Colt had his father’s eyes; the rest was pure Callie.

  “Yes?”

  “That thing I said about Sable being special. I didn’t mean special, special. Like Jade is to Garrett. Or Paige to Nate.” It was clear that Colt regretted bringing it up. He jumped to his feet. “You know what, never mind. Forget I mentioned it.”

  After Colt had left, Caleb sat alone in the room where he did his best thinking and let his mind wander.

  Colton? And Sable? Caleb closed him eyes and smiled. Too soon. But interesting.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “I THOUGHT YOU lived in Beverly Hills.”

  “I did.” Colt shifted gears, his Maserati purring like a well-oiled machine—which it was. He treated his cars with the greatest of care. “When Garrett and Jade moved to his house in Laurel Canyon, I decided to buy his downtown loft. It’s a great place.”

  “I agree.” Sable had stayed there when she guarded Jade. “It’s more practical. From a security standpoint.”

  “Right.”

  The awkward silence drove him crazy. Colt never had a problem finding something to talk about. He was naturally outgoing. Part of what made him a good actor was his interest in people. He listened and observed. Every conversation was another opportunity to pluck information he could later use for a role.

  Talking to a woman was especially easy. Next to getting one naked, it was his favorite activity. He liked the way they sounded. The way they smelled. Just looking at a woman, any woman, was a pleasure.

  It was his father’s fault. Until he pulled him into the office of shame, he and Sable had been doing fine. A little lighthearted banter. Give and take. Colt was certain he hadn’t read her wrong. She enjoyed it as much as he did.

  Not that Dad was wrong. The situation was a new one for him. He dated. He carried on a few long-term relationships. However, the last woman he had lived with was his mother. Now, he had Sable. Twenty-four hours a day. Seven days a week. Strictly hands off.

  Colt sighed. He should have done a better job of thinking this through. A single glance at the woman sitting next to him and his sigh became a groan. A male bodyguard would have been a much better idea.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Right as rain.”

  Colt rolled his eyes. Right as rain? Really?

  “That groan sounded…”

  Sexy? Titillating? Intriguing? Colt’s thoughts didn’t fall in line with his father’s edict, so he kept them to himself.

  “How did it sound?”

  “Constipated. Do you have enough bran in your diet?”

  So it’s come to this. Never had a woman commented on his bowel movements. Either he was getting old, or Sable was different. Crap. There it was again. Special. Different. Colt didn’t know why those words kept popping up.

  Sable Ford was a beautiful woman. Gorgeous. But not in a cookie cutter, I’ve seen that face on a million magazines, kind of way. Sable didn’t look like anyone else. Hence, special. Different.

  Colt felt his shoulders relax. That was it. Everything about Sable was unique. From the top of her glossy dark hair to the tips of her brightly painted red toenails. And everything in between.

  Long and lean, with just the right amount of curves, Sable made his mouth water. She had from their first meeting. She knocked him on his ass, literally and figuratively. That kiss. Unexpected and memorable. He’d thought of it more than once.

  Had she? At the time, Sable seemed unaffected. And uninterested. It would be best if that didn’t change. His ego could take the hit. Colt shifted in his seat. His libido was another matter. Damn. It served him right. His thought to ask for Sable was a way of getting around the bodyguard issue. Wasn’t he clever? Hell, no. He was not. He was going to suffer for his smartass ways.

  God, if Wyatt found out, he would laugh himself sick.

  Colt pulled into the underground parking garage. It was another perk to living in this building. Direct access to the loft using an elevator that bypassed his floor unless he had the proper code.

  “A retinal scan? Nice.”

  Sable worked for a cutting edge security firm. She appreciated the best of the best. Especially when it made her job easier.

  “I’ll get your scan added tomorrow.”

  “That isn’t necessary,” Sable assured him.

  “Sure it is. While you’re in Los Angeles, my home is your home.”

  “Theoretically.”

  “Positively.”

  Sable smiled. She liked to get to know her clients. It made her work easier if she understood what made them tick. She already knew the basics about Colt. Add to them, he was stubborn. Borderline argumentative—in a casual way.

  “When you leave the loft, I leave the loft. When you come home, I come home. If I do my job properly, we will never enter the building separately.”

  “Stubborn.”

  “I agree—you are.”

  Colt leaned against the elevator wall, arms crossed. The lighting wasn’t great. However, Sable could swear his eyes glowed. Bright blue. It disconcerted her. And damn, it turned her on.

  “If this keeps up, it’s going to be a long two months.”

  “Amen.” She heard Colt sigh. “And yes. I like to have the last word.”

  “Me too.” Colt let her exit the elevator ahead of him. “And here it is. Retinal scan. Tomorrow.”

  “But—”

  “In a fair fight, you can kick my ass.” Colt leaned close. “I don’t fight fair.”

  Asshole.

  “Did you say something?”

  “Are you a mind reader?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then I didn’t say anything.”

  Sable walked into the living room. It felt familiar and different all at once.

  “You redecorated,” Sable said when Colt returned from putting her luggage in the guest room.

  “I made a few tweaks. Fresh paint. New furniture. I did a complete overhaul on both bathrooms.”

  “Why? The guest bath was a dream.”

  “Compared to what?”

  Any place I’ve ever lived. In her head, it sounded pathetic. A real, poor me moment. Her apartment had a sweet little setup, including a large bathtub and a balcony overlooking the Columbia River. It didn’t compare to what Colton was used to, but it suited her.

  “Are you a bathroom snob, Colton?”

  “Damn straight. And proud of it.” Colt opened the refrigerator. “Beer? Water?”

  “Nothing, thanks.”

  “I live well, Sable.” He twisted the cap off a bottle of something imported. Sable didn’t recognize the brand. “I won’t apologize.”

  “Good. There is nothing worse than a self-hating millionaire. I know. I’ve worked for people who spend so much time downplaying what they have, they get no pleasure out of life.”

  “Perhaps that is their pleasure.”

  “Well said.” Sable started to kick off her s
hoes, then paused. “Do we need to set some ground rules?”

  “Dad already did.”

  Sable laughed. “We’ll get to that in a second. I meant how do you want to do this? Should I stay in my room?”

  Colt did a perfect spit take. Luckily most of it hit the sink.

  “Why would I want you to do that?”

  “I’m not your girlfriend. Or your friend.”

  “Bull —” Colt caught himself. “Pucky.”

  Damn, he was cute. “I’m your employee.”

  “I didn’t hire you.”

  “Many of my clients prefer not to socialize. I’m fine with that.”

  “I’m not.” Colt toed off his boots. His socks followed right behind. “Take off your shoes, Sable. Stay awhile.”

  Colt took her hand, led her to the big, comfortable sofa, and gently gave her a push.

  Like landing on a pillow. Sable closed her eyes. Heaven wrapped in the softest fabric imaginable.

  “I want one. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t fit in my apartment.”

  “It comes in smaller sizes.” Colt knelt to remove her shoes.

  “That isn’t necessary.” But it made her insides jump—in a good way.

  “I’m a good boy. I’m a good boy. I’m a good boy.”

  Sable lifted an eyelid. Colt seemed transfixed—staring at her foot.

  “Problem?”

  “You have no idea. Rule number one. No teasing or flirting. Rule number two. Do not make a pass.”

  “Good rules.” If you were dealing with underage virgins. “Caleb laid down the law.”

  “Umm.” Reluctantly, Colt set down her foot and joined her on the sofa. On the far end of the sofa. “He’s right. Your job does not include indulging my baser instincts.”

  “Did Caleb use that term? Baser instincts?”

  “It amounted to the same thing.”

  “That’s why you played Zombie in the car? You were editing your words?”

  For a man like Colt, it had to be brutal. Flirting came as easily as breathing. How did he suddenly stop without blowing a gasket?

  “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. And if you say it’s part of the job, I swear I’ll …”

  “You’ll?”

  “How do you threaten a woman who could twist your balls off without breaking a sweat?”

  Sable’s eyes narrowed. “How do you threaten any woman?”

  “Fair question.” Colt gave it some genuine thought. “This is a first. I’ve never met a woman who annoyed me the way you do. May I be honest?”

  “There’s a reason it’s called the best policy.”

  “And silence is golden. Best I keep certain things to myself.”

  “We could spend our time together speaking in clichés. Or I can break the ice. I have a good idea what you were going to say.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “You don’t argue with women; you sleep with them. If things start getting sticky, you end it. How many non-arguments have you had?”

  When Colt groaned, Sable didn’t try to hide her grin. “Come on, Mr. Movie Stud. You can’t be embarrassed.”

  “Embarrassed? No. I prefer to call it discreet.”

  “You never kiss and tell?

  “No. Never.”

  Colt said it with simple conviction. He wasn’t selling her on the idea. It was up to her to believe him or not. Sable believed him. Colt wasn’t as easy to figure out as she once believed. The superstar gloss wasn’t an act. Neither was the down to Earth man she saw in front of her.

  As with most people, Colton Landis had multiple facets to his personality. He wasn’t a shallow pretty boy. His complexities made him human. And, to her chagrin, more irresistible than ever.

  Sable needed a diversion—something to take her mind off her increasingly inappropriate thoughts.

  “So you like feet? Is it a fetish?”

  “Pardon me?”

  “Before? When you removed my shoes? I got the impression you wanted to kiss my feet.”

  Not the best segue. Kissing feet? Colt kissing her feet? So inappropriate. And oddly appealing. Perhaps she was the one with the fetish.

  “Not a fetish.” Colt looked uncomfortable. “Is this a test? I’m trying to be good, Sable, but you aren’t making it easy.”

  Neither are you. She desperately wanted to push that stray piece of hair off Colt’s forehead. Was it as soft as she imagined? If she ran her fingers through the dark locks, would he purr or growl?

  “Your eyes are all dreamy. What are you thinking about?”

  Sable wondered if Colt was aware that he had moved closer. His head bent. His deep blue eyes locked with hers.

  “You don’t want to know. It would be better if we dropped this, Colt.”

  “That’s the first time you’ve said my name.”

  “Is it?”

  “Mmm. It’s always, pretty boy. Or movie stud. Colt sounds good.”

  Colt’s voice lowered, the timbre sending shivers down Sable’s spine. One night. Not even that. And she was ready to forget her moral stand against sleeping with a client.

  “What would your father say?”

  Sable thought that would pull Colt up short. She was wrong. Instead, he smiled. A smile that did nothing to cool her overheated blood.

  “His message was clear. And that was the plan. Is the plan.”

  “Good.” Sable wanted to sound firm and in control. Instead, she sounded like a breathy fangirl. Ugh. It had to stop. Now.

  “You like me.”

  “You’re a Landis. What’s not to like?”

  Smart. Make it about his family. There was nothing sexy about that.

  “You like me. Colt. My last name has nothing to do with it.”

  “Your last name is the reason I’m here. Your family has a connection to H&W.”

  “You. Like. Me.”

  With each word, Colt moved closer. Sable could have stopped him. A simple no. Hand to his chest, checking his progress. That’s all it would have taken to make him retreat to his side of the sofa.

  Colt wasn’t pushing. He gave her ample time to object. The problem was, she wanted him right where he was.

  “Colton.”

  “Mmm. Colton. Even better. I know what you taste like, Sable. Sweet and spicy. How can I resist those lips?”

  “Because you know it would be a mistake?”

  “Would it?”

  Colt’s mouth hovered over hers, close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath.

  Yes or no? Sable didn’t know what her answer would have been. Caught by his eyes, she hesitated. Then pulled back.

  “My phone.” The ding indicating a new text was a lifeline. Gratefully, Sable twisted away. Glancing at the screen did more to kill the moment than a dozen buckets filled with icy water.

  Two words—call me—and Sable crashed back to reality.

  “I need to answer this.”

  “Is everything okay?” Colton frowned. Gone was the warm, pliant woman whose voice dripped with honey. In her place, an unfamiliar Sable. Cool. Stilted. He had never seen anyone switch gears so quickly.

  “Do you have any plans for the evening or are you staying in?”

  “No plans.”

  “Let me know if you change your mind. Remember, if you go out, I go with you.”

  Sable headed toward her bedroom.

  “Damn it, Sable. Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

  She paused, not turning. “It’s personal. No reason for you to worry.”

  Puzzled, Colt watched her close the door with a strangely controlled click. It wasn’t a slam. However, he knew by the set of Sable’s shoulders that she was upset.

  Colt walked to the window. The view was his favorite. He couldn’t get this in Beverly Hills. Los Angeles at night. The lights, the energy. It spoke to him. He loved to stand and observe. It looked like a huge, constantly changing mural—painted for his pleasure.

  Tonight, he didn’t see any of it. His mind was on Sable.

  N
o reason for you to worry.

  How could he not? One moment he saw laughter in her eyes. Her words teased, inviting him in. The next, the life went out of her. Something flipped a switch inside her, and Colt wanted to know what it was.

  Did Sable need help? And if so, how could he get her to ask?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “SABLE! THANK GOD you called.”

  “How are you, Mom?”

  “Desperate.”

  What else was new?

  Sable sat on the edge of the bed and did the only thing expected of her—she listened. The litany of problems never changed. Not in tone or length.

  How could a woman who confined her life to eating, sleeping, and watching television, have so many complaints? Sable could count on one hand the times their conversation varied.

  Number one, Sable’s first date. Iris objected. Vociferously.

  The moment Sable announced that she had accepted Tanner Pearson’s invitation to the movies, her mother never let up. Men, no matter their age, wanted one thing. Women were weak and always gave in. The only way to avoid temptation was to stop the madness before it began.

  Her mother’s solution? No dates. Ever. A woman was better off alone than tied to an ungrateful, selfish man.

  Sable listened, as she always did. On Saturday night, she showered, put on her nicest dress, and a touch of makeup. Precisely at seven o’clock, she left the house. She half-expected her mother to follow her to Tanner’s car. It would have been better than the warnings Iris shouted for the entire Army base to hear.

  Sable wasn’t discouraged. She dated—often. She never told her mother ahead of time.

  The next, and biggest, blowup came when Sable joined the Army. No amount of screaming or brow beating would change her mind. By the time her mother found out, it was a done deal.

  Iris reminded her on a regular basis that she had thrown her life away. Sable listened, as always, in silence. Her mother did not greet the news that Sable had decided to leave the service with the approval she expected. Why? Because a good daughter would get a job near her mother, not across the country. A good daughter would want to visit. A good daughter.

  What did that mean? Sable had no idea. She tried. She asked the questions she knew her mother wanted to hear. How is your back? What did the doctor say about your heart palpitations? Are you taking your medication? Pills Sable doubted she needed.