Like it or not, she would have to put up or shut up. She knew that Peter was angling to do something big once the show was over and her family was behind it all the way. Her father wanted a partner and an heir and if she wasn’t going to be it, then she needed to produce it.
The door buzzer rang, causing Sam to snap out of her reverie. Crap. Lauren was early and, seriously, once again the doorman just let a guest up? She didn’t want to complain to management, but if she had to she would. She picked up her rag and wiped her hands, going to open her door.
“You’re early,” she said, her mouth gaping open in shock at seeing Mark there instead of Lauren.
“Yes, about eight hours.”
“Mark.” Sam grinned at his reference to his late night standard visits, but then nervousness rose up as she saw the frown between his brow and the worry clearly clouding his eyes. She reached out, grabbing his wrist, and pulled him inside.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall. “I don’t want to bother you.”
Sam could feel her brows draw together, instantly hurt that he would take that tone, cutting her off and cutting her out. “I asked, so how can it be a bother?”
His eyes swept up to hers and he let out an anguished breath. “Shit, Sam, I don’t know why I’m here.”
Confusion and fear suddenly gripped at her. Just minutes ago, she was wondering if she should break things off with Mark and now she found it hard to breathe, worried over the fact that his next words may be that he never wanted to see her again. She forced her breathing to slow and fought to find her voice.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I have to go out of town to Vegas for a few days.”
Vegas? Ok, that she could handle. Well, unless he was going to see some lost love. “Why?”
“Someone very close to me is ill and I have to go and see him. He practically helped raise me.”
The room seemed to spin and Sam started to breathe again. She let out an audible breath as she stepped into Mark’s arms. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.”
He gently pushed her back and looked down at her, confusion in his eyes. “Funny, you don’t sound sorry.”
She looked up at him, everything at once going soft as all her fear bunched up and the emotion came crashing down on her. “Don’t mind me. I really am sorry.” She paused for a moment as anxiety grabbed at her once more and she shoved it aside, letting her reckless spirit take over. “Hey there, Mr. Thorn. Do you mind if I go with you to give you a little company? I could use getting away for a couple of days before my show.”
She saw confusion and something else that she couldn’t explain flicker in Mark’s eyes before his expression smoothed and his lips stretched into a wide smile. “Sure, Miss Leighton. I’d love nothing more.”
• • •
Mark was at war with his emotions throughout the fight to Vegas, on the touchdown, and all the way to the hospital. The only thing that gave him any measure of soothing comfort was to periodically look down and see his own large hand intertwined with Samara’s delicate but capable one. She had not let him go since they left New York. Placating him with easy chatter, getting him to open up a bit about his wild years and how it was Ray that opened his eyes and got him back on the straight and narrow when it seemed he was about to lose his way. He told her, not all, but some of how he never knew his father and how Ray, a family friend and neighborhood bike shop owner, was the only father type figure in his life, pretty much always there for him when no other man was. Kicking him in the ass when he needed it and being the steady sounding board when he needed that too. It was Ray who’d given him his strong determination, love of woodworking, and bikes. How it was Ray who’d let him know he could get back on his feet after he’d gotten shot. And most importantly, it was Ray who’d kept him sane when he was going off the rails during his mother’s health scare. He owed so much to him. And now to her. She couldn’t know how much it meant to him to have her by his side now to go and see his old friend. How much it meant when she leaned down and put her beautiful lips to his undeserving callused hands. He sucked in a breath and held it.
And he would swear he didn’t let it out until he walked into the hospital room and cast eyes on Ray himself.
“Oh shit, kid. How in the hell did you find out I was here?” Ray had turned from where he was looking out the window from his hospital bed at the view of the desert mountains to greet Mark walking in.
“As if I’d reveal my sources, old man.” Mark smiled and breathed freely for the first time since he’d heard about Ray’s heart attack. Just seeing him in person brought to mind his mother and all he could think of was how close he’d gotten to losing her and he wasn’t anywhere near ready to lose Ray. At barely seventy, he still had plenty of life yet to live.
Ray shook his close cropped gunmetal grayed head. “When I get sprung from here I’m going to give that nosy bodied niece of mine what for and good.”
The hospital room’s door opened and a petite woman with a short bob and a no nonsense demeanor walked in with Samara following cautiously behind her. She’d wanted to let Mark enter first, giving him a moment with Ray. “Oh please, Uncle Ray, hush,” the woman said. “As if I’m scared of you. Maybe now you’ll listen to me and stop trolling all those senior hall dances. You know those women are wild, Viagra being thrown about like Tic-Tacs.” She turned to Mark and angled up, pulling him into a big bear hug. “It’s been too long, Big Guy.”
“Hey, Mel,” Mark said, pulling back to look at her. “You’re looking great.”
Mel waved a hand. “Oh please, I’m looking old. My kids are trying to kill me, but hey, if they think they will, they’ve got another thing coming.”
Mark grinned. “I’m sure they do.”
Melody nodded over toward Samara. “So this one belongs to you? I found her out in the hall looking like a lost sheep.”
He looked over at Sam and then stepped to her side, wrapping an arm around her waist, not sure how to answer that question. Could he ever rightfully claim her? It brought a twist to his gut. Mark cleared his throat. “Mel, this is Samara Leighton.”
Melody’s eyes narrowed just a hint. “Of Leighton Industries, Leighton?”
Mark couldn’t help but notice the tension that came to Sam as her back instantly went steel straight and he saw the mask start to form. “The one and only,” she said, all coolness.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. I just thought I recognized you and wanted to make sure I had it straight and wasn’t just looking at you all goofy like a weirdo, playing that ‘is it’ or ‘is it not’ guessing game. Don’t you hate when people do that?”
Mark felt Sam relax under his arms as Uncle Ray spoke up. “Hey, don’t mind Run On Mouth over there. I sure don’t. Now let me get a look at you. Thorny’s never brought a girl around.” Mark caught the pointed look Ray gave him over Sam’s head. He thankfully said not another word but his look spoke volumes about a talk to come later.
“Hey,” Mel protested. “You’re getting on me and you dare call him Thorny in front of her? Dang, Uncle Ray. She’ll think we’re hillbillies or something.”
“Oh, she’ll think no such thing, will she, Thorny?” Ray said, giving Sam a wink.
Mark leaned down and kissed the top of Sam’s head. “Remind me why I was worried again?”
• • •
Sam couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up as she took in a very lively Ray, despite his recent attack, and a now fussing over him, propping pillows and pouring water Melody. She and her uncle clearly did well in their cantankerous dynamic. Ray asked about her kids and questioned her over the running of his bike shop — of which, it turned out, she was the manager.
Suddenly Sam thought of her father, getting a little greyer each year, and got a hitc
h in her chest over their relationship.
“Are you okay?”
She looked up into Mark’s concerned eyes then back over at Ray and Melody. Their heads were close as Mel propped a pillow, then kissed him on the top of his brow.
Sam blinked away threatening tears. “I’m fine. Absolutely fine.”
• • •
Exhaustion was coming down on Mark hard as they left Melody’s house late that night to go and check into a hotel. After seeing Ray settled, Melody, in her fantastically pushy way, had insisted they follow her to her place just on the outskirts of town for a quick bite. Well, that quick bite turned out to include her kids, her kids’ friends, her husband, her mother in law, and Mel’s girlfriends who all chattered just as fast and furious as Mel did. The quick bite turned out to be an all out late night bar-b-que.
“Yeesh, now I see why Ray’s heart was about to give out,” Mark whispered to Samara, looking around at the yard full of people in the back of Melody’s Spanish ranch style home.
Sam gave him a small smile as she looked around at the wide array of people all smiling and happy, working on making lists on how to help out once Ray came home in a few days. “I think it’s great. Your friend is lucky. He has a strong family behind him.”
Mark was quiet and gave a nod as he took a pull of his beer. Finally he spoke. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. He never struck me as the type, but he does seem happy.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder and he inhaled, letting the lavender invade his senses. “That he does.” Sam let out a small yawn and leaned into him further.
He tapped her denim clad thigh. “Alright, that’s it. Time to get going. I’m pulling the plug on this party.” She looked up at him with a pout to her bottom lip and he resisted the urge to lean in and give it a tug. “None of that, let’s go.”
They said their goodbyes with the promise to come back after visiting with Ray the next day. In his haste on the way to the hotel, Mark agreed to let Sam make the reservations. Since they were last minute she said she could pull some strings and get them a spot at a friend’s place. He protested, telling her he hated using her name in that way, but she wouldn’t hear of it and made them anyway. It bristled at him but he acquiesced and insisted on paying the bill. Honestly, he was just happy to have her by his side as he made the trip.
They hopped into their rental convertible to make their way back to town. Both were silent for most of the ride and Mark would have sworn Sam was asleep if not for the gentle rubbing of her hand along his forearm every once in a while. Suddenly a couple of bikers on souped up racing bikes went whizzing by them on Sam’s right, obviously dragging. Sam jumped, startled as Mark curved left to get out of their way.
“What the hell!”
He rubbed her thigh, trying to soothe her back to their quiet place.
“Hey, it’s okay. Just a couple of wild kids. I’m sorry I had to swerve like that.”
“It’s alright,” she said, glaring ahead at the riders’ back lights, the tension radiating off of her. “It wasn’t your fault.” He reached for her swirling hair and smoothed it.
“It’s fine. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to get you to the hotel and tucked in safe and sound.”
Mark frowned, trying to understand her sudden intense tension and anxiety. He took her hand as he fought a losing battle with keeping his tough demeanor in place and just wanting to hold her. Keeping one hand on the wheel, his other hand firmly in Sam’s, he rubbed her hand until he felt the tension dissipate. Finally, she let out a soothed breath. With the mountains at his back and the desert on either side, for a moment it felt like heaven was at hand and he knew it could get no better.
Running his thumb against her soft skin he picked up her hand and put her palm to his lips. Not far ahead was Vegas.
“Pull over.” Her soft but husky voice surprised him in the darkness.
“Huh, sweetheart?”
“I said pull over.”
“But we’re in the middle of the road.” He glanced in his mirrors and saw that there were no cars close by, but it was dark and he didn’t really want to pull over in the middle of nowhere. He stole a quick glance at Samara then brought his eyes back to the road. “Are you alright?”
“I love you. Now pull over.”
Tires screeching, Mark pulled over, hitting the breaks. “Come again?” He shot her dead serious eyes, afraid to take a breath.
Sam looked at him, her eyes all soft, glistening with tears that threatened to fall. “I love you and I wanted you to know that. I think I’ve been in love with you now for quite a long time.”
Mark went to swallow and found that he couldn’t, that it was caught in his throat. He tried again, barely able to get it down for the intense swelling feeling taking over his chest. Was this what Ray’s heart attack felt like? Maybe it was the beginning? Shit, he should have snagged some aspirin while he was at the hospital. But what good would that do if he couldn’t even swallow? He stared at her big, brown, liquid eyes.
“Mark.” He felt Sam’s hand reach up, and those capable fingers wiped away his tears. Oh damn. He was crying. Shit.
Finally, he swallowed. “Well. I guess you know then. That I love you too.”
Sam’s lips quirked. “So we’re in Vegas, the marriage capital of the world. How’d you like to make it official and we become Mr. and Mrs. Neighbor?”
Mark’s mouth dropped open as he looked at Samara with open shock. This time he swallowed to keep from choking. She must have lost it or maybe it was a cruel joke or maybe she was just overtired. Either way it wasn’t cool. But then she leaned in, took his face in her hands, and brushed those soft lips across his own, their breaths mingling, pulses slowing, hearts coming into sync, and finally she pulled back and looked up at him from under upturned lashes and smiled wide. It was then that the sky exploded over the mountains and his world returned to color once again.
Chapter 21
So maybe it wasn’t the ceremony of her dreams, but then again she hadn’t been one to dream of a wedding ceremony since she was sixteen years old and not yet jaded. But that didn’t matter to Sam because in the end it all turned out perfect. Yes, she had flutters of anxiety, who wouldn’t? Yes, she could just imagine her father’s reaction when he found out that she got married, to a biker no less, and someone not of his choosing, but then again, wasn’t rebellion what he expected of her? Her only real twinge came when she thought of her mother and how hurt she would be at not being there. But that was okay. She’d make up for it by letting her plan whatever fabulous wedding reception she wanted. Invite all of New York. She didn’t care.
All she wanted, all she needed, was Mark and his warm assuredness by her side and nothing else.
But in the end it turned out to be her reassuring him as they parked and walked hand in hand to the small white wedding chapel in the desert. She tugged at his arm and he turned, eyes wide with a type of fear she had never seen. “Hey there, Mr. Thorn. Don’t tell me you’re ready to go running scared? My knight in shining armor doesn’t seem the runner type.”
She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and his eyes softened. “I just never want to hurt you.”
She smiled as she felt her heart soften. “A long as you’re honest with me, I don’t think you can.”
With this his eyes closed and his mouth came down on hers as he pulled her to him in a long kiss and the door to the chapel opened.
• • •
“She’s not for you.”
Though he tried with all his might to focus on the words of the officiate, it was the words of Sam’s father that kept echoing through his ears as the wedding vows were said. He was so torn. Looking at her, so beautiful, and there he was — a fraud. He should stop this now, before it went any further, and tell her everything. Tell her who he was. Remind her of that first meeting w
hen they were kids. Tell her that he’s loved her all his life and would until the day he died.
“She’s not for you.” Still the words spun in his head and the fear clogged his throat. What if she rejected him? Looked at him with the same horror as her father did — like something to taint her. Dirty hands to sully her.
He looked down, seeing her dress, so white and pure and all he could think of were those pretty white socks from so long ago. Yes, she very well might reject him. And then what would he have left but yet another scar and a memory to hold on to.
The officiate was droning on but Mark couldn’t hear a word as the room started to close in. But then Samara squeezed his hand and he looked up, right into those liquid eyes, and his heart took over, spurring his mind to kick his mouth in gear and before he could say anything else the words “I do” flowed from his lips.
And then she smiled.
Mark willed his hands to stop shaking as he placed the simple band on her finger and looked into Samara’s hopeful eyes, not able to hide his own blooming enthusiasm. His breath hitched. She looked like a Grecian goddess in a simple one shoulder white gown that she bought off the rack of dresses the chapel had. The chapel’s patron had picked out for him a black suit with a long tie as it was the only one he had on the rack that fit him across the shoulders. “When we get back to New York, I’m buying you the ring of your dreams,” he said.
“I don’t care about that,” she whispered.
“I know,” he said, lifting her hand to his and bringing the circle to his lips.
She then recited her vows and brought his hand to her lips. Warmth radiated from his fingertips clear through his body. He leaned in to kiss her.
“Ahem. I don’t believe I’ve said my part yet.”
“Well then I think you’d better get on with it, man,” Mark countered.
The officiate, an ordained minister and part time Wayne Newton gave them a hearty wink as his wife, a petite bleached blond in her sixties, not quite making it to Marilyn, giggled from the side. “You may now kiss your bride.”
Seduction’s Canvas (Crimson Romance) Page 19