by Faith Austen
“James?” I heard Sara whisper. Turning to face her, I reached out for her hand. “Is it okay?” she asked.
I still had no idea what to say. Taking the easy way out, I closed the distance between us and took her face in my hands.
Her lips were soft under mine, yielding sweetly to me as I kissed away her doubt. Not trusting myself, I kept my touch isolated to her face, holding her still, forcing myself to keep my kiss gentle and light.
I’d meant to reassure her, but once I had her taste it wasn’t enough. My lips brushed hers then moved to her cheek, the shell of her ear.
Loathe to move away, I kept her there, teetering on her heels, until the scuff of Jessica’s shoe betrayed that we were no longer alone. I broke away and whispered in her ear,
“You’re more beautiful than I imagined a woman could be. And I love the way you kiss.”
After a moment of silence, Sara fell into me, her face red, her body shaking with giggles. She gasped for breath, her shoulders trembling. When she finally had herself under control, she whispered back,
“I like the way you kiss too.”
Her shy declaration was enough to send a rush of possession through me. This had begun as a way to handle my bad reputation.
I’d been attracted to Sara from the start, I hadn’t lied to her about that, but every second I spent with her I realized that she was becoming much more than a way to fix a problem.
She might be the answer to everything I’d been looking for, but hadn’t known how to find.
Chapter Fourteen
Sara
The glint in his eyes after he kissed me made my knees weak. Before I could think of what to say, Jessica was ushering me back into the dressing room. The next hour was a whirlwind of rattling hangers, zippers, and quick trips into the lounge to show James what I was wearing.
Cocktail dresses, their fabric fine, colors dark and dramatic, each dress with shoes to match. Day dresses, not unlike the one I’d worn earlier in the day. My head spun.
I lost my nerves about Jessica seeing me in my underwear, giving in to her relentless urgings to try this and that. James wanted us to move quickly, and it seemed James got what he wanted.
I lost track of how many things I’d tried on or what James liked. I never even saw most of the underwear. Jessica had me try on one bra, made of the thinnest pale pink silk, before whisking it off and calling “thirty-six double D” to her assistant.
I caught sight of the letters ‘erla’ on the bra and knew it had to be La Perla. I swallowed hard. I had no idea what the dresses I’d tried on since the ball gown cost, but I knew about La Perla. I’d drooled over La Perla.
James was crazy to be spending this kind of money on a woman he’d just met. Especially when we’d already established that he wouldn’t be seeing the expensive underthings in person.
I, on the other hand, was not crazy. Being the focus of all this extravagance was unsettling, true. I’d done my best to talk him out of spending so much money on me and I’d gotten nowhere.
Trying again would be a waste of time. James was a billionaire, and he wanted to shower me with a ridiculously expensive wardrobe. I wasn’t going to keep saying no.
When James’s reputation was cleaned up and he didn’t need to date me any longer, I was sure he’d move on. I wasn’t going to fool myself into thinking my fairy tale was real.
Eventually, this would end. And I knew dating other men after this would be even more of a letdown than dating had been before James. But at least I’d have an unbelievable wardrobe to console me.
We brought only the black and white dress and matching shoes back to the cottage. Jessica had arranged for the rest to be delivered later in the day.
I hung the dress in my closet beside the clothes Melissa had bought me and ran a brush through my hair, tangled from spending the morning in a dressing room. When I was finished I checked my phone for calls from from Mom.
There was nothing except a few texts from a number I didn’t recognize. Deciding I could check them later, I headed back to James’s cottage where he’d told me to expect lunch.
I knocked on his front door and waited to hear him say, “Come in,” before walking inside. He stood on the far end of the room shuffling trough papers on his desk, his cell phone to his ear.
Seeing me, he smiled and gestured to the room service cart in the center of the room. It was only mid afternoon, but it felt like breakfast had been days ago instead of hours.
Lifting the lids on the trays, I saw a cheeseburger with waffle fries, a grilled salmon sandwich and fish tacos, all still steaming. They must have just been delivered. My stomach growled.
James hung up the phone and came to stand beside me, sliding one arm around my waist. Without thinking, I leaned into him. “Hungry?” he asked, tightening his arm.
“I don’t know how after that breakfast,” I said. “But I am.”
“It was a busy morning,” he said, indicating that I should sit. “Which do you want?”
“All of it looks good,” I said, taking a seat at the table opposite him.
“A little of everything?”
“That would be perfect.” He began dividing the plates. “James?” I asked, nervous I was going to upset our cozy afternoon.
He looked up at me, waiting, eyes narrowed as if he knew he wouldn’t like my question.
“I just wanted to say thank you for taking my shopping. And I’m sorry about this morning. You were right. My freaking out says more about me than it does you. You haven’t done anything to deserve my mistrust.”
“Thank you, Sara,” he said, more seriously than I might have expected. “I’ll make a point to never truly give you a reason to doubt me. And you have to promise to remember that you’re a gorgeous woman who any man would be insane to treat badly.”
“I’m working on it,” I said, embarrassed by his description of me.
The women he saw when he looked at me wasn’t the one I saw in the mirror. I liked myself, and I was proud of my accomplishments, but I’d never thought of myself as beautiful. James seemed to disagree. And on this point, I didn’t want to argue.
Our plates ready, James reached out to take my hand as I said the blessing, the action so natural it felt as if we’d been praying together before meals forever instead of just a day.
“So, what do you do?” I asked, curious what had him on the phone all the time. “I know you run the Drake Gardens and oversee the rest of the company, but what does that mean?”
My own job was interesting to me, but fairly routine. I was curious to know what being a billionaire CEO really meant. In between asking me questions about my own work, I found out that being James meant a ridiculous amount of responsibility, making decisions that affected millions of dollars and thousands of people’s jobs every day.
He took his company seriously, seeing it as a family legacy he shared with his two brothers, both of whom were based on the east coast.
Drake Enterprises had holdings in a wide range of areas, from hospitality, to precious metals, to hospital equipment. How they stayed on top of everything was beyond my brain’s ability to process.
I handled my clients’ sometimes-complicated financial affairs, and I did it very well. However, what James did was another world of complexity.
When I asked how he managed it all, he said, “I hire the best and I pay them very well. Never underestimate the value of a good team. Without my people, Drake Enterprises wouldn’t be what it is.”
He was making it hard to keep my heart distant. He could be overbearing and bossy - my new wardrobe case in point - but when he said things like this, I melted. So many men in his position would take all the credit. Instead, James deflected it back to his employees.
We sat there so long, asking questions and trading stories, I lost track of time. If my mother hadn’t called to ask if I knew where the rehearsal dinner was (I did), I might have missed forgotten it completely.
Looking at the time, I jumped out of my
chair. “I have to start getting ready,” I said, reluctant to end our lunch. I’d been planning on wearing my hair up that night, since the black and white dress demanded it.
But getting my long, thick hair curled and pinned in place would take some time. If I did what I wanted and stayed, we’d be late.
James glanced at the clock on his phone. “Fine,” he said. “First, come here.” I did as commanded, mostly because I didn’t want to say no to him.
When I was within reach, he tugged me close, wrapping his arms around me. His mouth touched mine, his lips closed and warm. As kisses went, it was about as chase as it could get.
So why did it send heat flaring through my body? He pulled back and laid a kiss on each on my closed eyelids, then stepped away. My knees wobbled.
“Go,” he said, turning me toward the door. “Get ready for dinner before I’m tempted to take this further than we’re ready for it to go.”
Blindly, I walked away, wondering how mad my Mom would be if we didn’t show up for the wedding. Mad. So mad her head would explode. And, as annoying as my sisters could be, I loved my Mom.
An hour later, I was showered, wearing the resort robe, my hair dried and pinned in sections, ready for the curling iron. As I lifted the iron to wrap the first section of hair, my phone beeped with a text. I put the iron down and reached for my phone.
Don’t ignore me!!
What? I stared at the number, then flipped back through the day’s texts. When I’d seen the unfamiliar number earlier, I’d assumed it was a mistake. The texts started at eleven that morning.
Call me.
Where are you? Call me back.
This isn’t over. Call me before I come find you.
And then the one from a minute ago: Don’t ignore me!!
They had to be a wrong number. No one I knew would send me texts like this, and I’d never seen this phone number before. It was local to Atlanta, but so were millions of other numbers.
Only one person had ever talked to me this way, and he was gone. Long gone. Besides, I didn’t have anything Greg could want. He’d already cleaned out my savings. I didn’t have anything else for him to steal.
Putting the phone back down, I lifted the curling iron and got to work. I was getting ready to spend the evening with James and I wasn’t going to waste it worrying about some stranger’s drama that had ended up on my phone.
Doing my hair took almost an hour, but it was worth it. I’d curled each section, then twisted it up and pinned in in a pattern that looked like a mess to start, but ended up an elaborate pinwheel of twists and curls.
I rarely had an excuse to get dressed up, but I’d had long hair my entire life, as well as an addiction to watching styling videos on YouTube. I’d been dying to try this one since I’d seen it months ago. It looked as good as I’d hoped.
Paired with the black and cream cocktail dress and glittering gold heels, my elaborate hair and evening make-up looked exactly right. Hopefully, James would agree.
I couldn’t help feeling a little smug at the thought of what my sisters would say when they saw me. I wasn’t a skinny Minnie, but in this dress it didn’t matter. Even my critical eye thought I looked awesome.
On my way out the door, I glanced at my phone, considering. Jessica had sent along a selection of evening purses. I needed one for my lip gloss, but I didn’t need my phone.
Everyone who might call would already be there. As I reached for it, preparing to put it beside the bed, it beeped with another text.
Call me now, you stupid whore.
Another beep. Then,
Don’t make me hunt you down, Sara.
A bolt of ice froze my spine as I sank down to sit on the side of the bed.
Whoever this was, they were after me.
Chapter Fifteen
Sara
I stared at the phone on the table as if it were a snake, poised to strike. It remained silent and dark, nothing more than metal, glass, and plastic. Before it could come to life with another creepy message, I turned and left the room. Whatever was going on, I didn’t want to know. Not right now.
I wanted to walk out of that room in my fabulous dress, wearing fabulous heels, and go to my sister’s rehearsal dinner with my unbelievably hot date. That phone, and the powder keg of drama it suddenly represented, was staying behind. Nothing was going to ruin my night with James.
I was so focused on closing the door to the cottage, I didn’t see James until he was standing right in front of me. The guy was knee-weakening handsome, normally. Standing before me in a classic black tux, he might have stepped right out of a romantic movie.
More than his good looks, or the way the tux fit his broad shoulders, it was the look on his face that did me in. Possession, affection, and admiration swirled in his eyes, telling me that I didn’t look as good as I thought I did, I looked better.
Holding out his hand to me, he said, “Come here.” I crossed the distance between us, smiling as he drew me into his arms.
“I won’t ruin your lip gloss,” he said, his mouth coming down on my cheek. I appreciated his consideration, but part of me wished for the dizzying sensation of his lips on mine. But now wasn’t the time.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked when he’d lifted his head. I was turning back inside to get my purse when he stopped me with a hand on my arm.
“One more thing,” he said.
He produced a velvet-covered box. My stomach pitched with nerves and apprehension. All of these clothes were one thing, but jewelry was another entirely. I knew that the necklace and earrings I wore with the dress weren’t sophisticated enough.
My pearls were okay, but I was wearing a designer dress. A simple strand of cheap pearls didn’t cut it. Still, anything James had in that box would be far more extravagant than what was appropriate. The dress alone went beyond the realm of acceptable gifts from a man I’d known only a day. Reading my mind, he said,
“Don’t be stubborn.”
“James, you can’t -”
“And don’t tell me what to do. That was the deal. No arguing if I want to buy you nice things.”
“If you don’t want any arguing, you’ve got the wrong girl,” I said.
“I’ve got exactly the right girl,” he said, opening the black velvet box to reveal a thick gold choker that gleamed in the evening light. Beside it sat matching earrings and bracelet. “I was tempted to go for diamonds. But those are for tomorrow’s dress. This one calls for gold.”
“When did you even have time to get these?” I asked, standing frozen as he fastened the choker around my neck. Without protest I took the earrings he handed me and began to put them in.
“I remembered them from the display in the lobby. I had them delivered.” Stepping back he surveyed me from head to toe, eyes satisfied. “You look like a goddess. Not that it matters, but your sisters are going to choke with envy when they see how gorgeous you are.” He set the box inside the door, picked up my purse and closed the door behind us.
“That shows what you know,” I said. “With sisters, it always matters.”
“Not with those two. They should be beneath your notice, Sara. Until they appreciate you for who you are, they aren’t worthy of your attention.”
I needed to write some of this down. When James was out of my life, I could pull out his outrageous flattery to prop up my sagging ego. No man had ever seen me the way he did–as if I was special, extraordinary, exactly as I was.
Not sure what to say in response, I walked down the path beside him in silence, enjoying the glow of his company and bracing to spend the evening with my sisters. With any luck they’d be too busy with wedding stuff to bother with me. Then I could relax and enjoy being with James.
Chapter Sixteen
James
I was in over my head with Sara. Half of the things that came out of my mouth with her were unplanned. That wasn’t me. I thought things through. I was methodical, calculating, and I always got my way.
With Sara,
I felt like I was struggling my way upstream, off balance and never getting as far as I wanted. I’d known her barely a day, and it felt like years.
She fit with me. Maybe not on the outside, but where it counted. This afternoon was a prime example. My plan had been simple. Have lunch, do a little work, get dressed, then go to the rehearsal dinner.
Instead, we’d ended up sitting at the table talking about our jobs. I had things I needed to get done, emails to answer, and problems to sort out. But I’d found myself caught up in our conversation. I’ll admit, I started out wanting to impress her when I told her what I did every day as one of the heads of Drake Enterprises.
But, she was genuinely interested in how I ran the business. Her questions were both curious and insightful, a compelling combination. Her passion for her own work was equally appealing.
I never thought I’d say that hearing the details of an accountant’s nine to five would have me riveted. I should have been fighting sleep. That was Sara, turning everything I thought I knew on its head.
Yes, she was gorgeous. That was a given. Call me shallow, but I’d never been drawn to ugly women. She was curvier than the current standard of beauty, sure, but she fit my standards to perfection. That she had a sharp brain was an unexpected bonus.
I’d gone into this looking for a solution to the problem of my tarnished reputation. The way I’d had to talk her into the whole thing had been half the fun, at first. I liked that she wasn’t another easy conquest, that she was attracted to me but wasn’t ready to jump on board just because I was reasonably attractive and rich.
I was something special for her. It really hadn’t occurred to me that she would end up being the same for me. Not like this.
The change hadn’t hit me until she’d tried to leave that morning. At the sight of her, teary eyed and edging for the door, panic had seized my chest. I never panicked, not over business, not over my life. Not the time Will, Ryan, and I were caught in a flash flood camping in the desert. And not ever over a woman.