by Dyanne Davis
By the time it was her turn to go to the podium, she was darn near floating on air. Standing at the podium Rebe's eyes zeroed in on Sam. He was making silly faces, making her laugh. His touches and kisses to the back of her neck had more than calmed her down She's have to perhaps give Sam a bigger role in her next book. The man could definitely kiss like a hero. Yazoo, yazoo. Even though it was a bad idea for anything to happen between them, she was glad he'd come with her. She was going to get through her speech.
A few minutes later, a round of applause, then the women standing on their feet cheering her gave Rebe a feeling she'd never had. Her eyes remained glued to the spot where Sam had been because now he was lost in a sea of screaming women. For one brief second she wondered if he’d ditched her. Suddenly he was there in front of her, grinning like the old friend she used to know.
"You were fantastic,” Sam said. “I knew you would be.” He leaned in and gave her a butterfly kiss on her cheek.
For one long moment Rebe just stared at Sam. Her cheek tingled where he'd kissed her, so did a few other body parts. "Are you still being in character, Sam?”
“You have no idea. Tonight I will be you hero and when I'm in need you're going to be my heroine.”
Rebe needed something to say, to do, anything. Have you noticed the decorations?" she asked and moved away as Sam gave her a knowing look.
“Of course I noticed. This place looks as though any second I’m going to walk upon a full-fledged orgy. What gives with all the hearts and the cut out cupids?” And all the red, it’s a bit sleazy, sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize. This room was specifically decorated to make the women feel
hot and sexy. You know the intent is to be erotic.”
“So this was purposefully trashy?’
“Stop it,” Rebe laughed glad to be able to enjoy with Sam
During dinner Sam was the perfect companion, talking to the women around her, and the men, but keeping his focus on her. His manners were impeccable. Why, he'd make the perfect hero, except he wasn't perfect, was he? He was an artist, a starving artist by the looks of things and he wasn't the required height.
Okay, she'd admit it; Sam wasn't as short as she'd always thought. Egads, he was actually a wee bit taller than her. But still he wasn't tall enough to be a hero. If only, she thought. Hmm. But his shoulders were broad and his chest was perfect for her…and his lips.
Rebe found herself turning from her dinner in order to focus on Sam’s lips, and found him smiling at her. Oh yes. She thought back to his lips, they were beautiful, and kissable, and his kisses were so delicious. And she wanted…stop that. Oh no, she groaned. She wanted more. A moment later she heard Sam’s chuckle as though he could read her thoughts. Please no. She would die. She gazed into his eyes, his beautiful green eyes, with flecks of gold, but sometimes they looked brown, like hers.
Who said he should have blue eyes? His eyes were perfect and they went with his complexion. He was naturally tanned from spending so much time outdoors where Chase chose to use a tanning bed. And of late he'd positively fallen in love with spray tanning. She couldn't imagine Sam ever doing that, not even in the winter time when his skin was paler by quite a few shades and the contrast in their coloring was even more obvious, but in a good way.
Rebe had never been picky about the men she dated in real life. Race had never been a factor. Being African American her skin darkened in the summer just like everyone else,’ and depending on how much time she spent in the sun she could be anywhere from golden tan to a creamy coco. And in the winter she'd return to caramel.
For whatever reason she was crushing on Sam she was remembering things he’d said to her, not the mean things he’d said in the past two years, but the things he’d said before their riff that happened without even a fight, just a slow death of their friendship. A ping of pain as she thought about her brother was replaced by a smile as she remembered that Sam had once told her she looked like buttery caramel as he'd sat watching her spray lotion on her body. She'd given him a quick look and he'd just as quickly looked away. Her brother had given her a look then he’d growled and had given Sam a hands off look.
Darn. She had to stop thinking of all the good times she’d had with Sam. Think of your case, she commanded, think of anything but Sam. Like magic the image of the man who was as different from Sam as day and night popped into her head complete with his megawatt, white bright smile. Oh crap. Why the heck was she thinking of Chase?
She wouldn’t be much of a romance writer if she didn’t know the answer to that one. Chase was her picture of a hero, the man she modeled her heroes after in her books. He was tall, very tall, ocean blue eyes, cornflower blonde hair and killer abs. great smile, great kisser, great in bed and they definitely looked good together. So what was the difference here? Chase could also charm the room. She was truly puzzled. What made one man a hero on the outside, and another a hero on the inside? There had to be something. So what the heck was the difference in the two men?
Rebe gave another peek toward Sam and found him looking at her. Ah that was the difference Chase's attention never stayed on her. He'd never snuck glances at her when she wasn't looking. He'd never given her a different adoring look than he did any other woman.
And that was why Chase was perfect for her. She wasn't special to him. And he wasn't special to her. But Sam, now that was an entirely different matter. One she was very much aware of. Sam made her want to touch him, to… hmm… at least dance with him. At least she was glad when dinner was over and the dance music began. When Sam moved his chair back, he gave her a look biting on his lips as he did so, as though he were deep in thought. Then he issued an order, ‘an order,’ not a request. "Let's dance," he said.
There was a slight growl to his voice, all raspy and deep. When she held his gaze something dark and dangerous glittered in his eyes. Hmm, she thought, Sam is a lot more than I thought. But he didn't give her much time to think as he whisked her into his arms and they began the first dance, a nice slow ballad. His body had a good feel, strong and sturdy. She found herself wanting to just lay her head on his chest, but hey, she was too tall for that. A chuckle as though he could read her thoughts and a gentle hand guided her to where she wanted to be. But it felt awkward because she was towering over him.
"If you want to lay your head on my chest, you could just take the damn shoes off,” Sam muttered.
That was all it took. Rebe’s head popped up from his chest instantly. "Thank you, Sam. You made it so easy for me to go up there and give that speech. Give me a second.” She stopped in the middle of the dance and ran toward their table with her heels clicking. Once there she opened her bag and took out her flats that she always carried for when she tired of walking in the stilettos. Then she raced back out to the floor to Sam and found her position, her head on his shoulder, her arms around his neck, his hand around her waist slowly caressing her. His laugher soft and sweet in her ear.
Without a doubt she was aware she'd utter the same words of thanks to him more than a dozen times through the night as Sam played the perfect---well almost perfect hero. She watched his interaction with the fans; they were fawning over him─over Sam. What the hell. And he was smiling at each of them as though they were the only woman in the room, being not only polite, but friendly.
The most amazing thing of all was that when Sam looked at her, even knowing it was pretense, he still took her breath away with his smoldering looks and wicked grin. Oh she'd make sure when she wrote his character she included those reactions.
When the night was nearly over she regretted it. Everything had gone perfectly. She'd signed a record number of books, more so than her fellow authors with the gorgeous hunks. And she was cognizant of the fact that it was because Sam had gone out of his way to charm the women. They'd bought her books because of him and she was grateful. Hey, a sale was a sale.
Walking out the door with her arm entwined in Sam’s, Rebe stumbled a bit and he caught her to his chest
and held her for a long moment. How she wanted to pretend that she’d had a bit too much to drink, but in truth she’d had nothing but soda and neither had Sam. Neither of them could blame their actions on alcohol. Butterflies were doing a dance in her belly. If wishes were true she’d definitely wish for the night not to end. She didn’t want things to go back to the way they’d been between them for the past couple of years. Her fault, yes, but Sam had never demanded that she talk, so she hadn’t. She’d assumed he wanted things between them not to develop into more, same as she’d wanted.
Arriving back at Sam’s car, this time things were different. This time, Sam held the door open for her and waited until she was seated, then he gave her a smile and walked around the vehicle to the driver’s side. Her body easily adjusted to the butter soft leather in his SUV. Turning toward Sam the moment he entered the car, she was aware something had changed between them. They were now at least on their way to being friends again. She owed him.
“Sam, about that debt I owe you. I just wanted to extend it and tell you if you ever need my legal services, I'm there. You really helped me tonight.”
“Debt?”
“Yeah, remember if you ever find yourself in need of a date, I’m here.”
“Right.” He’d almost forgotten about that. They’d had so much fun he’d allowed himself to reminisce about how things had been for them before they lost….Sam glanced at Rebe as she buckled herself into the vehicle, then he took in a very deep breath and sighed as he allowed it to escape.
It was just like Rebe to remind him that the night had been only pretense. But it did seem that she at least wanted them to go back to being friends. He wasn't betting on her having a permanent change. He'd wait and see, give it a few weeks.
“Who came up with that after party chat with the authors?" he asked and waited for her answer, knowing it had been Rebe's idea.
“I did. I thought after giving people free drinks we needed to sit around and drink coffee and soda and have after dinner munchies. The fans come to see and mingle with us, so it was a perfect solution to ensure no one walked out inebriated.”
"That was good planning. Very much like the old Rebe."
"The old Rebe?"
"Yeah, the woman who used to be my friend. That woman I liked. I saw her again tonight. Rebe had become quiet. Why the hell did he say what he had? Damn it all, he'd have to cover that. The night was over. They had to return to what they'd been doing for the past two plus years.
"I kinda think I like that Rebe myself, Sam. I don't think it’s going to be that easy to find her again though. Listen, do you mind pulling into Wal-Mart's parking lot? It’s right up ahead about a half block."
"You want to go shopping now? I'm not sure if they're open or not."
She smiled. But didn't answer him when he pulled into the lot she looked at him. “Before this night ends and we go back to hating each other─"
"I told you I don't hate you."
"Well, before we go back to whatever it is we do, would you mind kissing me again?"
Would he mind? Hell no. But he shouldn't. They shouldn’t. The deal was over, the fawning had been for her fans, the kisses were okay there, but they wouldn't be here in the car, in a damn near empty parking lot. She was waiting and her look was…he couldn't be sure. He didn't trust Rebe’s emotions at the moment. She was grateful to him for going, and for behaving and for…, oh hell why don't you just kiss her and get it over with?
“I’m not a toy, Rebe and neither are you. I did the fawning bit because I promised you I would. But I think it’s time to end this pretense. We both know that the moment Chase tweaks his little finger at you; you’re going to go running back to him. Hell, all he has to do is buy you some expensive trinket, a humongous bouquet of flowers…and oh yeah what was it he did about six months ago, hired a damn blimp and a skywriter to tell you he was sorry. If he was so sorry he wouldn’t keep doing it. Damn, Rebe, don’t you have any sense at all?”
“Sam, believe me I know who Chase is. I’m not going back to him. This was it, the last straw. I’m serious.”
“I’m still not going to kiss you Rebe. Like I said you can’t tweak your little finger at me and get me to do your bidding. It’s not going to work.”
“Please, Sam.” Rebe’s eyes grew moist as she stared into Sam’s gaze. When she heard his throaty exhale she leaned in even closer. “Please, Sam.”
“You’ve had too much to drink. You don’t know what you’re doing.” Sam wanted badly to give them both an out. But hell he wanted to kiss her like crazy and never stop kissing her. That was the problem, the real reason he didn’t just do as she asked.
“You know I only had soda. I’ve very aware of what I’m asking you.”
“Is this for just a kiss?”
“Would you like more?” Rebe pressed on, willing her mouth to shut up. This was like the fairytale balls she’d read about from her childhood days. And she was feeling like Cinderella. She had to kiss the prince while he was still a prince, before the clock struck the doomed hour and he turned back into a frog, and she turned back into the uncaring woman Sam believed her to be. She couldn’t believe she was going to continue to beg him. But she was. “Please, Sam, just one more kiss before the fairytale ends."
Sam gently pressed his lips to Rebe’s for all of two seconds, not taking her in his arms, not tasting her the way he wanted, the way she'd asked him to do. This was a hell of a lot safer. After the almost chaste kiss, he moved away. Their gazes locked then Rebe looked out the window on the passenger side and he put the car back in drive and continued toward home, inwardly cursing himself the entire way. But it didn't matter how he berated himself, Rebe was on the rebound. He didn't do rebounds, and especially not with Rebe. There was too much at stake to even contemplate that.
As he pulled into the parking lot of his building he got out, opened the door for Rebe then walked her to her car. "Don't think I'm stalking you or anything, but it's pretty late. I'd feel better if I trail you and make sure you get safely home. Okay?”
“Okay,” Rebe answered. She started her engine wondering if Sam meant it when he’d said he was seeing her safely home, or if it were a ploy to try and come into her apartment. Not that she’d mind. After all, they'd shared a bunch of kisses and there was no mistaking that he'd become aroused several times during the evening. Well so had she, but he didn't need to know that.
She thought of her asking him to kiss her, she'd wanted him to do as he'd done throughout the night. Instead, he'd given her little more than a brotherly kiss on her lips when she'd been craving so much more. Heck, for what he’d done it definitely hadn't required him to pull into a parking lot.
For a long moment Rebe wondered what she'd do if Sam changed his mind and decided he wanted the kiss after all and maybe a bit more. What if he pulled into a space at her building? Would she let him up? Would she accept more kisses? And if she did would she let him into her bed. “Don't go there,” she said aloud. She knew the reason why she couldn’t go there with Sam. Only tonight, her defenses were down. He'd been so nice, and his kisses had stirred a yearning for things she'd given up on having. He could never be the man she accepted into her life. He meant too much to her for him to take that position. When she reached home Sam waited while she opened her door and went inside, then he blew his horn a couple of times, waved and took off. A warm feeling enveloped Rebe. When her landline instead of her cell phone rang she smiled. Sam was being Sir Galahad in overdrive.
"Hey."
"How was the party without me?"
'Oh, Chase, it's you. What do you want? If I'd known it was you calling I wouldn't have bothered answering.
"Then why did you?”
“I thought you were my date.”
“Your date? You had a date tonight?”
“Yes. Does that surprise you? We're not together anymore, remember? I'm tired of your cheating.”
“Come on, Rebe, you know it doesn't mean anything. I always find my way back to
you, don't I?”
Mr. Hunk, every woman's idea picture in her head of the heroes Rebe wrote about, talk, dark and handsome and yes, wealthy, very wealthy. But Chase knew and played on his assets. He was a dog, a womanizer, a skirt chaser. How many ways could she say it? He had the external hero qualities, just not the internal. If she were a witch she'd merge his external with Sam's internal and create the perfect man, the perfect hero.
“Look, Chase, I meant it when I said I was done with you. Finito. Got it?”
“Have I told you how sorry I am?’
“You mean sorry you got caught.”
“That too. But I am sorry. I have a surprise for you.”
“No, surprises. No flowers, no blimp and no skywriting a tired apology is going to make me take you back.”
“How about being second chair with me on the Alton case?”
The word no was on the tip of her tongue and that was definitely what she knew she should tell him. She’d been working with Chase on the case, but she was only doing research. She wanted badly what Chase was dangling gin front of her face. She thought of Sam telling her she would take Chase back the moment he dangled the right bait in front of her face. Darn him anyway. She heard Chase chuckling.
“I’ll let you give the opening remarks, Chase said and laughed.”
“How about the closing ones?”
“Rebe, now you’re being greedy.”
“Forget it then. If this is how you plan to make it up to me, this is what I want.” Chase was thinking it over and so was she. She was weak and superficial. Sam it’s your fault she whispered in her mind. If you were here with me now, I wouldn’t be tempted by Chase.
