by Anya Summers
“Okay,” she said as he pulled her close, tipped her head back with his hand, and covered her mouth with his in a hungry kiss.
She had thought it would be awkward—the public displays to be put on for show. But then she hadn’t been counting on what the potency of his kiss did to her system. How a light press of his lips left her leaning into his embrace and starved for more until she clung to him. It might be a side effect of sleeping with him twice—that she was developing a fervent need for him.
It was Michael who drew back and resumed control. Michael who squeezed her waist and stared at her with controlled warmth and approval in his gaze.
The crowd around them had averted their eyes.
“Have fun, babe,” Michael murmured as he released her.
“You too,” she replied quietly as he walked away.
Kate, the assistant—whom his assistant Sarah had called to escort Sabrina through the studio—fawned over her during the tour. Kate was a perky redhead with a bubbly exuberance, and couldn’t be more than a size zero. The woman had a thigh gap, whereas Sabrina would never have a thigh gap even if she allowed a trainer to torture her for years on end. She wanted to dislike Kate on principle but found she couldn’t hate someone that happy. Not to mention, she made sure Sabrina had coffee set at the right temperature. And, “Oh, would you like a snack? Let’s stop by the kraft table on this show, they have freshly made crepes and croissants.”
Kate explained the different television shows and movies currently in production. The ones that were filmed on location, the ones that were shot up in new Hollywood in Vancouver, British Columbia, and then the ones that were filmed in Atlanta, and around the world.
Sabrina spied a host of actors and actresses whose faces were so familiar, it was startling. She could hardly believe this was her life now—for the time being, anyhow. This would pass too. And then she needed to decide what to do with the rest of her life.
Marco followed silently behind her like an overgrown shadow.
After the studio tour, Sabrina spent the day taking in the sights in Los Angeles. She walked along Hollywood Boulevard and stood next to Marilyn Monroe’s star on the Walk of Fame. She dipped her toes in the chilly Pacific Ocean by the Santa Monica Pier. She and Marco had lunch overlooking the ocean, with seagulls circling above.
She visited the tourist shops along the pier, and found a kitschy tourist tee shirt and a snow globe for Alex. At a small antique shop, she picked up an antique cigar case from the 1940s for Dante. And at a used bookstore, she came across a first edition of Robert Frost poetry and thought that Michael might enjoy it. He liked old things like that. She had the salesman put it in a giftbox with a bow.
By midafternoon, Sabrina was lagging, but then she had been up since four that morning to catch their six o’clock flight. Marco and the driver, Benjamin, took her to their hotel in Beverly Hills: The Beverly Wilshire. It was a hotel that had been featured in films, and was as stunning in real life as it was on the silver screen. Bellhops whisked their luggage and Sabrina’s packages onto a cart. The clerk smiled and handed her the room key, with effusive comments like: it’s all taken care of, would you like any room service sent up, and do you need anything dry cleaned?
It was another taste of what money—real money—could buy. Now that Sabrina had seen how the other half lived, there was no going back or wondering what it would be like. It made her more determined than ever to make sure that the money she made from this deal was something that she would be smart with, and invest wisely.
Marco followed her up to the room. Inside the penthouse suite there was a bucket filled with ice and champagne, with a note from Michael.
Looking forward to tonight.
M
The man definitely knew how to give good woo when he put his mind to it. He and Dante both did. It was something Sabrina couldn’t allow herself to get used to; this was all temporary. At the end of the month, they would go back to their lives without her. She couldn’t forget that this was all make believe.
“I’m going to go take a bath if you want to watch some television. Feel free to order room service if you’re hungry,” she said to Marco.
“I appreciate that. That means you won’t mind if I put sports on?” Marco asked with a lopsided grin.
She shook her head. “Knock yourself out.”
She headed into the bedroom with the bath connected to it. There was a full-sized, deep tub in which the water would actually cover her boobs when it was filled.
Sabrina used the free time in the room to pamper herself. She took a long bubble bath full of frothy bubbles. And afterward, she applied lotion, styled her hair as best she could, and did all the girly rituals that had been absent for most of her life.
The ring on her hand glimmered in the light. Perhaps, while she was here, she should put all thoughts of the relationship ending aside, or that they were just pretending. Granted, in her limited experience, she doubted men turned down sex when it was offered freely. Michael and Dante were enjoying the use of her body. And she had to admit, she was relishing her sexual encounters with them. The thought of last night’s excesses made her face flame. Mayhap, for just this weekend, she would act like Michael was really hers to keep.
She took time selecting her outfit. They were going somewhere super trendy in order for her to be seen on Michael’s arm. That meant photographers, and she ignored the flutter of fear inside at the thought. Michael would never allow anything bad to happen to her. That she knew with a certainty, hence the bodyguard today.
She selected a short red dress that ended six inches above her knees and made her skin glow. The halter top dress had a second diaphanous red layer that was longer than the skirt beneath, and softened the lines of the dress.
She was just slipping into matching red heels when Michael entered the bedroom, with his briefcase in one hand and a bouquet of white roses in a vase in the other.
“Ah good, you’re ready. I just sent Marco home for the night,” he said, his gaze assessing her approvingly from head to toe. “I thought you might like these.”
Touched and beyond thrilled by the flowers, she said, “They’re beautiful. Thank you. I’ve never received flowers before.”
“Really? Never? Surely from a boyfriend?” Michael cocked a golden brow in disbelief.
She accepted them and buried her nose in the pretty blooms, inhaled their sweet aroma and replied, “Nope. Never. You would be the first.”
A shadow passed over his eyes as he studied her, but it was dispelled quickly and replaced with a small smile. “Is that a fact? Well, then I am doubly glad I decided to stop and pick them up on the way.”
He set his briefcase on the small bench at the foot of the bed. She went up on tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. “Thank you for these. I’m going to put them out in the living room.”
Then she hurried out past him while she blinked back the tears. The unexpected gesture from Michael, who was normally so aloof, left her shaken and unsure how to feel.
“You didn’t open the champagne, I noticed,” Michael commented, trailing her into the living room.
Putting the vase of flowers on the coffee table, she admired the way they looked and hoped that they could figure out a way to bring them back with them on Monday when they flew home. She shook her head. “No, I’ve never had it before and wanted to make sure I have a clear head for tonight while we’re out. The last thing you need is for me to be tipsy and potentially garner more negative attention for you.”
Michael seemed to consider her for a minute, almost like he was surprised that she had put him and his needs first. “Then we’ll save it for when we get back. I have a feeling you will like it. If you’re ready, we should get going. I’m starved, and Le Cirque Sol is reputed to be fantastic.”
“I’m ready. Let me grab my purse.” Sabrina picked up the small black clutch purse that was only big enough to fit her phone, lipstick, mirror, her license, and a credit card inside, then took Michael�
��s elbow as he escorted her from their room. Did he realize this was her first official date ever?
Michael ushered Sabrina down through the lobby and out to the waiting limo. He knew what most people saw when they looked at him. But now, on this trip, all eyes were turned onto Sabrina. And rightly so, the woman was downright stunning. To the casual observer, she looked like she had been bred to walk on his arm.
Only the way her hand was tightly clutched around his forearm gave her away. And that little act made him want to protect her.
Dante had been right again about their choice. She was the perfect decoy to install, even if she was uncomfortable in his presence, and he wasn’t certain of the reason behind it. He tried not to let it bother him. She had slept with them both, twice. Given each of them the gift of her virginity. As jaded as he had become, he would cherish what Sabrina had given him—and Dante, for that matter.
Michael knew that Dante wanted to claim her, not just for the days and nights in the weeks ahead, but permanently. But Michael himself wasn’t as quick to jump into a full blown, committed relationship. Some of that did come from his breeding. He hated to even admit that, but he also couldn’t ignore the fact that Sabrina was, and had been, their maid. There was nothing wrong with the position. His philosophy with his business was treating everyone from the managers to the janitors with respect, both in the benefits given and the salary paid.
Granted, from what he and Dante had discovered about Sabrina, despite immense obstacles, she had pulled herself up by her bootstraps to care for her mother and then, subsequently, her brother. He respected the hell out of her for that. It took guts to ride out life’s storms. And he ached for her, for the pain and struggles she had been through that he had been oblivious to while she had been working for him.
In the limo, he asked, “So, tell me about your day. Where did you go and what did you see?”
He already knew from the report from Benjamin, but he wanted to hear it from her. This was the time for him to get to know her better. And, in some respects, it was a litmus test for her honesty. In the position he was in, he had to be careful even with the NDAs and contracts signed, because she was going to be hearing much more intimate details living with him and Dante. He needed to know that he could trust her, and this would be a start.
She glanced his way. “Well, after the studio, which was pretty fabulous, we headed to the Griffith Observatory. Then we stopped by Hollywood Boulevard Walk of Fame, where I got to put my hands in Marilyn Monroe’s handprints, and then, because I’ve never seen the Pacific Ocean, Benjamin drove me and Marco to the Santa Monica Pier. Did you know they have a rollercoaster, on the pier, of all places? It’s an old one, to be sure, but it was loads of fun. Marco rode it with me, so I didn’t have to go it alone. We rode the Ferris wheel and I saw miles of the coast. It was amazing and absolutely gorgeous. I took lots of pictures on my phone that I can’t wait to show my brother next week when I go visit him.”
“Sounds like you had fun,” he said with a grin, imaging the big bruiser Marco in the rollercoaster. The bodyguard hadn’t mentioned that, and Michael could only laugh at the imagery.
“I did. We ate at this restaurant right at the end of the pier. They had great shrimp. And there were seagulls flying overhead. I walked on the beach and put my feet in the ocean. Then I did some shopping.”
“I thought you didn’t want to do anymore shopping,” Michael said as the limo pulled to the curb in front of Le Cirque Sol.
“I picked up some touristy items, some gifts for my brother, and his former nurse… dammit, I knew I was forgetting something when you got back, but you distracted me with the roses. I have something for you.” She preened in her seat.
“You bought me a gift?” he asked, trying to think back to the last time a woman he wasn’t related to by blood had bought him a gift. He couldn’t recall a woman ever doing so without an ulterior motive.
“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I? I’ve got something for Dante too.” She shrugged like it was no big deal.
“Well what is it?” he asked, stumped and not a little off-kilter. Didn’t she understand how big this was to him? Likely as large as her getting flowers for the first time ever.
She cast him a secretive smile. “It’s a present, silly, which means it’s a surprise. You’ll just have to wait until we get back to the hotel. My lips are sealed on the matter.” And she mimed inserting a key into her mouth, turning the lock, and tossing the key away.
There was a part of Michael that wanted to tell Benjamin to turn the limo around and head straight back to the hotel. Which would be about the dumbest thing he could ever do.
The limo door on his right was opened by Benjamin, a driver Michael used every time he was in LA. And, for the first time in their acquaintance, Michael wanted to yell at him to take them back to the hotel. Instead, he pasted a congenial smile on his face—the one he used whenever he knew there would be press people present—and emerged from the car, then turned and offered Sabrina his hand. She took it without question and beamed up at him when she stood beside him, like she was pleased as punch about her gift, and the secret of it. He allowed some of her joy of the moment to seep over him, and slid his left hand around her waist. That way, the ring on her left finger would be visible to the cameras.
He escorted her inside, paying no mind to the people outside or the shutters of cameras on the sidewalk, snapping up every person who walked inside the establishment. He heard them call out his name, ask who the woman on his arm was, and was it true that they were engaged? No, he didn’t pay attention to them, all his attention was focused on the woman by his side and the one truth that clobbered him while they walked…
She fit.
It was all he could think as they made their way inside. The way she leaned against his side, like she was counting on him to be her buffer, and had no qualms about him being her bulwark. But she fit at his side, and he wondered if she might fit in his life too. And she’d bought him a present.
The whys of it were lost on him. Except he couldn’t deny the pleasure he felt at the knowledge of this as of yet unseen gift.
“Ah, Mister Fitzgerald, we have your private room ready. Won’t you and your guest please follow me?” the maître d’ in his fashionably modern tux said.
“Certainly.” Michael couldn’t help but notice his companion glancing around the room as they walked, with wonder on her face, as if she was trying to soak everything in like a sponge.
How had they missed the dire straits she had been in? Or what a truly ravishing beauty she was?
Their private room had a bank of windows that overlooked a small fountain and patio, with lights strung overhead for ambience. The table itself was covered in crisp ivory linen, crystal goblets of water, and wine glasses just waiting to be filled with the right vintage.
“Your waiter will be right in.”
“Thank you,” Michael said. “Here, let me.” He pulled out her chair and got her seated.
Charm her.
Those were Dante’s parting words this morning when he’d dropped them at the airport. It was rare for either of them to seduce a woman individually any longer. It was typically an all for one and one for all mentality, mainly because Dante was much more of a sweet talker that women—subs—tended to simper over. And they’d worked out a system where Dante vetted the submissive and then Michael stepped in to join in. With his background, his businesses, his everything, that created a buffer and tended to help weed out the fortune hunters.
Michael had just sat down when their waiter silently appeared.
“Good evening. My name is Andre and I will be serving you this evening. What can I start you with?” he asked. He looked to be in his early twenties, and from his appearance, he was likely one of the many trying for Hollywood stardom. Michael flipped open the wine menu and perused it quickly until he found what he wanted. “We’ll have a bottle of the Chateau Lafite Rothschild Pauillac, 2010.”
“Excellent selection.
I will be right back with that, and give you a chance to look at our menu. Just so you know, tonight the chef’s special is blackened salmon drizzled with a mango demi glaze over a bed of steamed jasmine rice and sautéed asparagus.”
“Thank you,” Michael said. “We’ll take a moment. Anything catch your eye?” he asked, realizing he had no idea what Sabrina’s tastes ran to, other than the Chinese from the previous night, and the shrimp she’d mentioned having today.
“Lots of things do, but I’ve not tried many of them. Have you ever been here? I’m open to suggestions.”
She was so earnest with her question and her trust. It was every Dom’s fantasy to have a woman put that much faith in him, and that often took years to earn. Yet she offered it freely, without guile or ulterior motive. She wore her feelings on her face, and he would bet she had no idea how refreshing he found her to be.
“Well, the red I ordered pairs really well with steak and seafood. How do you feel about lobster?”
“I’ve never had it, but if it’s anything like shrimp then I’m sure I will love it,” she replied, setting the menu down.
Their waiter came back with the bottle of wine, and filled a glass for Michael with enough to get a whiff of and taste for his approval. “It’s excellent, just as I remembered.”
“And have we decided what we would like this evening?”
“Yes, we’ll start with the house salad and some calamari. Then, for dinner, I will have the sirloin, medium rare, while she will have the lobster. But please let the chef know that we plan to share for a little surf and turf.”
The waiter smiled and nodded. “Very good, sir. I will let him know.”
When they were alone, Michael said, “Try the wine and tell me what you think.”
“All right.” She picked up the glass and seemed to consider it for a moment, before finally taking a sip.
“Now let it roll around on your tongue before swallowing,” he murmured, and was pleased when she followed his lead. “And?”
