A Woman's Choice

by Rita Clay Estrada

  The dull, false beginning of morning light slowly filtered through the window. Catherine moved, stretching gingerly. When she encountered a male leg, Sam's leg, she halted, opening her eyes to look up at the man next to her. His eyes were wide open, his mouth forming a small, delicious smile of contentment.

  Without a word he reached for her, one large hand cupping a breast, softly teasing the flesh with whisper like touches. She turned toward him, leaning on her side to make access to his broad chest easier for herself. Her fingers traced the crisp mat of hair, finally mimicking his movements as she teased his flat male nipple into a small nub of hardness, staring into his eyes all the while.

  When his hand left her breast to travel leisurely down the flatness of her stomach and beyond, she did the same.

  His breath caught in his throat.

  His hand dipped lower still, finding the warmth he had been seeking, plying her with gentle caresses that made her temperature soar. Her breath came lightly, quickly, almost whistling in her throat, matching the cadence of his.

  Then her mouth came forward and she teased the tip of his nipple with her tongue, leaving a heated coolness there. Her small white teeth nipped the edge of a rib, touched further down his ribcage, then traveled to his navel to tease him even more. She was the amazon, the aggressor, the woman who made the moves. It was a heady power.

  Sam's control was slipping away, his eyes filling with need. His touch became more rapid, less than gentle. He tried to reach places that he had to caress to feel her response and couldn't do so. She wouldn't let him. She was controlling the situation and he had no choice but to follow. Frustration added to the need that was building into a tightly wound coil deep inside him.

  Her head went further down still, giving him a kiss that only the closest of lovers could give. A deep, gravelly moan forced its way past his lips. His hands cradled the head that tried so sweetly to please him, his fingers tangling in the blond hair that spilled across his stomach and thighs.

  Suddenly the tension was too much and with hands that shook he raised her to his level, his lips and tongue taking hers in a searing kiss that lit fires where none had been before. As his kiss deepened and their tongues dueled for supremacy, he turned so that she was beneath him, rocking against his hips in silent supplication.

  But he wasn't ready to soothe her needs. Not yet. Two could play her game and he meant to follow her lead.

  His lips touched her neck, then trailed downward until he found her budding nipple. He toyed with her, making her squirm with desire as he teased first one rigid peak and then the other. His hands squeezed her waist, his head moving even lower until he found her small navel. His tongue dipped, then foraged on, leaving a damp heat everywhere he touched.

  Suddenly his mouth was at the most intimate of places, feeding fire and ice into the very core of her soul. His tongue sought her very desire, urging her on to levels of tormenting ecstasy she had never known before. She arched, attempting to pull away, but his hands held her locked to him. A moan seared her throat but her mouth couldn't form the words that would stop him. Her mind ceased to function. Her hands clenched his shoulders, telling him with action what she wanted.

  Then he was there, in her and filling her with mutual need. This time they each heard the other's voice. They sought lips that could give as well as take, and in a final burst of passion, they became one.

  "My Kitty, my Catherine," Sam murmured against her shoulder, accepting that the two personalities of her had merged together in their lovemaking. His kisses were sweet, gentle, tender, telling her how much he had been touched by their morning passion.

  All she could do was smile and stroke his back and shoulders, reveling in the feeling of the blanket of weight he was on her. He was here, with her, touching her, and his touching was healing. A balm that made old hurts disappear as if by magic.

  A single emotion bloomed forth but she was too tired to put it into words. She hugged his body close, tightened her grip, then let go, her body and mind exhausted from the gamut of experience he had just given her. It was too much for her to absorb. With a feeling of complete contentment she had never felt before, she gave a sigh and slipped into a deep sleep.

  She woke several hours later, her heart light with feelings that were best left unexpressed for fear the source of her happiness would disappear. After getting the morning paper from the lawn, she made a full pot of coffee and almost half a loaf of toast, then carried it back to the bedroom on a tray.

  They drank coffee, ate toast and argued about the news, a friendly banter that continued well into the morning. No mention was made of the night before and Catherine's returning to his bed and his arms. It was as if the subject were taboo for both of them. It was a magical time, the world outside their front door didn't exist. As time sped toward Sam's luncheon appointment with his friend and fellow attorney, Leo Coulter, the more reluctant he became to leave Catherine.

  That was stupid, his conscience told him. After all, she was a grown woman and certainly didn't need a babysitter. But he knew the real reason. He loved being around her. She was like a refreshing tonic to him, and he couldn't seem to get enough to drink.

  However he had been sane at his office Monday and had cancelled everything but this luncheon with Leo. When he was around Catherine he couldn't think straight. He needed time to get away, put his thoughts in order and decide on a course of action. What exactly that meant, he didn't know. He just knew that he needed to give them both a little time away from each other.

  The wisdom of his luncheon was brought home to him when she asked him if he liked chocolate and mentioned something about a cake recipe she wanted to try. He knew that he either had to go to his luncheon or sit like a star-struck teenager and watch her bake. He chose the luncheon.

  He met Leo in an intimate French restaurant not far from his office. Sam had known Leo at law school. They had found a special friendship growing between them, probably because they were two of a kind. Both had bummed around a long time before settling on a career choice, both had worked while attending school in order to afford the tuition. Only recently had the two of them begun to enjoy life and appreciate the finer things they had only dreamed about before. They had one other thing in common: they both loved women. All of them.

  "You don't look any worse for wear," Sam said as he took the seat across from Leo. Because of his friend's large muscular build and striking hazel eyes, he commanded immediate attention everywhere he went, especially in the courtroom. Men thought his light-eyed stare was cold, but women seemed to swoon over it. That, along with his dark brows made a marked contrast to his casually windswept blond hair. In anybody's book, Leo was handsome.

  "If you're referring to that long legged redhead, then I'll confess. She's too much for me."

  Sam's brows shot up. "I don't believe it! You're crying uncle after the intensive search and seizure technique you put her through?"

  "I found out that she had her own techniques, and I'm not sure I cared to be the hunted."

  Sam chuckled. "You mean marriage?"

  Leo joined him, a deep rumble that shook his broad shoulders. "Marriage, love and babies. She wanted it all and wouldn't mind cheating just a bit to get her way."

  "But don't you think it's about time you settled down?" Sam asked as he watched the waiter pour a cool, white wine into his glass. Leo had obviously gotten impatient and ordered the wine for both of them. He wondered who he was addressing the question to, himself or Leo.

  "With a woman who wants me… or my money?" Leo said dryly. "I don't seem to have any problem attracting the latter, but it's the former that makes the best wife."

  Sam leaned back, smiling. "I should have known you'd have all the answers. But someday someone is going to conk you right over your hard head and drag you home to her cave. You won't stand a chance, buddy." He couldn't help the smile that still framed his mouth. Ages ago both April and Jace had met Leo. Jace had thought him to be a caveman while April likened him to
a huge tan-and-gold teddy bear. Either description fit him.

  "Maybe not, but I'll put up one hell of a fight until I'm dragged through the door."

  They ordered, then sat back and talked shop, both touching bases with their own lives.

  Then, slowly, Sam returned to the original conversation. "Leo, what would you say if I told you I was in love?"

  "I'd say you're crazy and the only cure I know is to move in with her for a while. It always eases the pain of separation when I've had to put up with togetherness for any length of time."

  Sam stared at his veal. "And what if that doesn't work?"

  "Then you're hooked, man. I only hope she's good enough for you." Leo shook his head as if he had just heard about a good friend's funeral. "Does she feel the same way, I hope?"

  "If she does, it's a carefully guarded secret. She cares, but I don't think she loves."

  Leo leaned forward, his expression showing Sam just how sincere he was. "Then cut it off, man. It's not worth the agony you'll go through if you let it continue."

  "And who hurt you?" Sam's voice was caustic with the anger he felt toward his friend for voicing what Sam wouldn't even think.

  "What else? A woman. She was my wife for exactly one year, then everything went down the drain. I suffered for years before I came to terms with it and decided that from then on, my heart would stay where it belonged… in my chest."

  "Too late," Sam said in a growl. "Your advice is just too late."

  "Who is she, and what does she want?" Leo asked as he cut into his meal. Nothing seemed to stop Leo from eating. Nothing.

  Slowly, almost haltingly, Sam told Leo about Catherine. He left out nothing except their sweet loving. That was no one's business.

  Leo leaned back, for once shocked enough not to lift his fork for a few minutes. "Wow. You are in deep trouble, my man. You are already sunk."

  Sam shrugged his shoulders, unwilling to admit that Leo was probably right. But the diamond-hard gleam in his eyes seemed to say that he wasn't going to lose Catherine without a fight.

  "What about the thief? Any leads?"

  Sam nodded, cautiously reticent. "A few. I hired a private investigator two days ago. He's given me some information and has a crew watching her house around the clock. They're changing the locks but they still expect the burglar to return."

  "Any suspects?"

  "None yet," Sam hedged, thinking of the phone call he had made earlier to the private investigating firm. They had a lead but Sam didn't know if it was the right one or not. Time would tell.

  Leo lifted his glass. "I toast you and your efforts, Sam. From what little I know about Catherine Sinclair, she has the ambition of ten, no a hundred women. She certainly wouldn't entertain the notion of falling for a man who isn't the next Perry Mason any more than she would fall for a country doctor when she could have De Bakey." Leo took a deep breath and continued, "You, my friend, don't have enough ambition for her kind. You'd either have to change or be run into the ground by her nagging. There isn't a chance in a thousand for this romance to succeed."

  "I appreciate your opinion, but you'll understand if I don't believe it." Sam's voice was hard but his mind was spinning. Of all the many reasons he knew were against their relationship succeeding, he had never thought of Leo's. "Besides, she knows that I'm happy with what I'm doing."

  "Does she? Really?" Leo looked skeptical.

  "Yes," Sam ground out. Visions of last night flitted through his mind. She had come to him. Did she care and just not know it? Could she care and not show it? No, that didn't make sense.

  "Well, I wish you luck. But I personally think you're out of your mind. And your league. And your depth."

  "Thanks for nothing, Leo." Sam stood and took out his wallet. "I come here hoping for some moral support and you hand me negatives. I'll remember it, buddy, when the next redhead pops into your life and you need to talk out your strategy." He threw the bills on the table. "See you later," he muttered, leaving the restaurant.

  He needed to be home. With Catherine. Now.

  Once more he opened his front door to smell the savory aromas that proclaimed a sinfully delicious home-cooked meal. And once more Catherine peeked from the kitchen, her hair in a ponytail that made her look all of sixteen, her body encased in a lightweight, cream-colored sweater and royal-blue slacks that proved she was all woman.

  "I hope you like early dinners," she called from the kitchen as she disappeared behind the door. " 'Cause that's what you're getting."

  He cleared the lump in his throat. "That's fine with me."

  "Good. Then we won't have to cook this evening. We'll nibble on leftovers and enjoy the lack of mess,"

  He stood in the kitchen doorway and watched her stir something in one of the pots. She looked completely at home, contented and in her element. Could Catherine really dislike him for what Leo thought was his lack of ambition? He stood straighter. It didn't matter. He was what he was and loved his work. « He walked to the counter and picked up the blender, then headed toward the refrigerator for ice. "Want a margarita?" he asked over his shoulder.

  "Mmm, thanks. But without the liquor, please."

  With deft movements he made quick work of two drinks, one with and one without.

  Handing Catherine her drink, he almost downed his own in one swallow. The slushy ice nearly froze his throat, then his stomach. But it took away the pain that seemed to surround his heart when he was with her.

  She took a sip, watching him carefully. "I think we ought to make a toast," she said.

  "Oh?" he managed to get out. "To what?"

  "To friendship." She raised her glass and tapped it against his before taking another sip. He dutifully lifted his and drank the very last drop.

  "Now let's eat," he said gruffly, ignoring the fullness of his stomach from his lunch with Leo. "We have those insurance papers to complete, and then I have some work to do here at home."

  Confusion once more lit her bright-blue eyes. "Okay."

  "Catherine," he said abruptly, then halted, only to begin again. "Catherine, I love my work. It pays well although I'll never be a millionaire, but the satisfaction I receive is tremendous. I wouldn't change it for the world. Do you understand that?"

  She ran her finger around the rim, one part of her mind on him while the other wondered how he could drink the horrible stuff he just concocted. She looked up. "Is it important?"

  "Yes," he snapped.

  "Then I understand."

  He waited a minute, then nodded his head. "Good," he said and walked out of the room.

  Catherine once more stirred the steaming vegetables. And men said women's thoughts were hard to follow!

  They ate dinner in silence. Afterward they cleaned the kitchen. Then they sat at Sam's desk in his den and quietly filled out the insurance papers. Only necessary questions were asked and only the shortest of answers were given.

  Sam walked six blocks to the nearest mailbox, trying to work off his mood. But his frustration level con-tinued to climb. He wanted this woman for all the wrong reasons, knowing she couldn't be his no matter how much he craved her. Last night and this morning, when he had held her close and smelled the perfume of her body, felt the softness of her skin, she was his. But after dawn came, so did reality.

  Damn reality!

  He jammed the letter into the box and slammed the lid. Blast everything! She was his! It was just a matter of convincing her of the fact, that was all.

  He slowly smiled. And he had the rest of the week in which to do it.

  When Jace called on Thursday to ask them to a new club opening, Sam jumped at the chance. It was just what he and Catherine needed—a change of scene. Since their first date and Sam's misunderstanding, Jace had been a silent bone of contention between them, and this would be the perfect opportunity to lay those feelings to rest. It was a test, a small one, but just one of many to come.

  Catherine, too, was pleased at the invitation, which pained Sam more than he was willing to ad
mit. Did she miss the bright lights and fast living? Probably, he told himself glumly. How many obstacles would he have to knock down before he conquered the dragon and won the pretty girl? Something told him there were more than he had bargained for. But with his attorney's persistence and his love for her leading the way, he'd get there or know the reason why.

  That evening the four of them stood on a narrow sidewalk in downtown Los Angeles. "Is this it?" April stared at the small, almost minuscule sign that proclaimed the name and location of the club. "You'd think they'd have banners or flags or something."

  "In this business, less is more exclusive," Catherine said as she checked the marquee next door. It proclaimed women in all sorts of undress doing wonderfully exotic dances and gyrations never before seen by man. "Maybe we're going to the wrong place. Next door probably has more comedy and better acts," she inserted just before Sam took her arm and purposefully led her away to follow Jace through the small, nondescript door.

  The entry was plain. Two large double doors led into the main room, but before entering everyone had to sign in and be given an okay by a man who looked as if he knew intimately Al Capone's mob years ago.

  The inside was completely different. Decorated lavishly in shades of peach and navy blue, the large room was exquisite. The navy carpet was thick piled, the small tables a laminated white, while the chairs were peach and comfortably thick-cushioned. The stage was in the center, the bandstand up on one of the balconied walls.

  "Do you have money in this, Jace?" Sam asked under his breath. "If so, I want in, too."

  "Don't I wish," Jace whispered back. "But like the smart businessman I am, I turned the owner down. I thought he was too pushy for my tastes. He seemed to think 'Old Hollywood' was still in and that my life-style was a little too dull."

  April patted his arm, a mischievous smile perking her lips. "Poor thing. It's tough being a sex symbol and Mr. Straight at the same time." She gave him an evil-eyed glance. "Just don't forget which is the real you."

  Jace sighed. "I know. It could get me in a heap of trouble."