by Robyn Thomas
She laughed softly. “You can’t be hungry. You just had two servings of crepes. Oh.” He heard the change in her voice. “Have you and James had words already?”
“It’s just lunch, Sara. Come into the city and eat with me.”
“Midday?”
“Sure.” He hung up, anticipation pumping through him. Unless he had a meeting with clients, he usually ate at his desk. Today was an exception. He was taking off work for a lunch date with his beautiful wife. How odd is that? he thought.
…
Zoe called Sara a couple of days later. “Can I stop by and confirm my order? I know we talked about the kinds of things I wanted, but I’m not certain I’ve actually placed an order. How’s midday for you?”
All alone in her sunlit sewing room, Sara blushed.
“Ah, that’s not so good. I’ve started to meet Ethan each day for a quick bite before his afternoon really takes off. I don’t want to miss it, and I’m sure he’s expecting me too.”
Zoe’s silence quickly became awkward.
“Okay, how about now? I have a friend, another neighbor, who turned positively green when I told her about your custom-made baby dolls. If we pop over in a few minutes can she have a look at some of your samples? Fair warning though, she’s got deep pockets and she’s going to want at least one of everything you show her.”
“Sure. I’ll see you soon.”
The morning flew by in a blur of appreciative murmurs punctuated by the occasional squeal. Zoe brought two friends with her and they seemed to both want the same thing—delicate baby doll nightgowns in pastel shades. She wouldn’t have thought much of it, except that their preferences mirrored Zoe’s. They’d always been popular, in bridal white for weddings, but that clearly wasn’t the case here.
She grabbed several samples on her way out the door, poking them into the tiny gift bag Ethan had arrived home with last night. The perfume it had contained then fit a lot better than the negligees, but she was already running late. She handed her car off to the valet at the hotel near Ethan’s office and bolted inside his building. She caught her breath in the elevator, waved hello to his PA, who was on the phone, and burst into his office, full of apology for being a few minutes late. He looked startled…almost guilty.
“Ethan?” The woman’s voice came from behind Sara, out of sight.
Sara froze at the disapproving tone. Why hadn’t she considered that Ethan’s closed door might mean he was with a client?
“I’m so sorry. Please excuse me.”
“You’re here now,” the woman said. “And apparently you’re late. Perhaps my son would care to explain why he has two appointments scheduled at once?”
Your son?
Sara sensed the floor rising up to meet her as the world tilted dangerously. This woman had all the warmth of a Popsicle, and she was Ethan’s mother?
Sara couldn’t decipher the look Ethan sent her, but she had a bad feeling about it.
“Mother, this is Sara.”
“Greaves.” She winced at the abruptness of her tone, aware that she’d drawn attention to the very thing she was trying to smooth over.
Her feet refused to co-operate. Turning around was a must, so she persevered. She balanced her bag on the edge of Ethan’s desk and extended her hand to the sour woman. Her greeting died in her throat when she realized Ethan’s mother had no intention of shaking her hand. Just then there was a soft plop, and the look on the older woman’s face confirmed her worst fears.
The bag had tipped and lingerie spilled out onto the floor. She’d wanted to know Ethan’s thoughts on the sweetly sexy negligees, and she was about to find out.
Chapter Thirteen
Ethan’s mother seemed to look everywhere at once, taking in Sara, the lingerie, and her son. “I see you have plans.”
“Mrs. Munroe?” Sara felt the tension in the room ramp up and wished she had another way to address the woman. “This” —she pointed to the lingerie— “isn’t anything to be concerned about. If I’d wanted to seduce Ethan on his lunch break, I’d have picked my favorite piece and worn it.” She ignored Ethan’s choking fit. “As it is, I’ve interrupted your meeting with Ethan. I’ll go, and see him later for dinner.”
Ethan’s mother seemed to stare right through her. “The charity gala is tonight. You are going?”
Sara wasn’t sure how to respond. It was the first she’d heard of it.
“Of course.” Ethan flashed Sara another inscrutable look. “James has our tickets. Sara’s just popped in to get them.”
“And get a second opinion on which slip to wear beneath her gown?”
Gown? Where the heck was she going to get one of those?
Ethan scooped the bag and its contents off the floor and smirked as one item unfurled. “If Sara’s wearing something like this, we won’t be staying long.”
Sara snatched them out of Ethan’s hand and called out a hasty farewell as she left. She couldn’t believe Ethan was having that conversation with his mother, or that he’d signed them up for attendance at a fundraiser. For a man who supposedly wanted to keep their marriage quiet, he sure seemed to fail a lot.
She darted down the hall to James’ office and poked her head through the open door. “I need help. Ethan’s mother wants us to attend a function tonight.”
“She wants you there?”
Sara stared at him. “I don’t know what to do. Ethan says you have tickets. I’m going to need a heads-up on what to wear.”
James studied her. “You’ve got more than clothing options on your mind. Is it Ethan?”
She exhaled as a wave of disillusionment swamped her. “I think he’s losing sight of his objectives. I thought I was coming here to get a brief taste of his life, but he told me the other night, after you and Zoe left, that he never planned for anyone to know we were married. It was supposed to be our secret, one quiet month of play-acting followed by a discreet divorce. That made me feel like a dirty little secret to be kept hidden at all costs, but his new policy of introducing me to everyone as if I matter is even worse.”
James didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.
“I don’t know how to play the games Ethan plays. He’s so busy trying to be the perfect partner that he forgets to be himself. Living with him is like being on a date that never ends. I keep waiting for him to relax enough to show me who he really is. I love the glimpses I’m getting, but they’re usually fleeting, and I want so much more.” She groaned, aware that she’d said too much already, yet unable to stop. “When he pretends to care, he’s very convincing. Sometimes I wonder if—”
James’ phone cut her off. Good timing.
She wrote Zoe on a blank sheet of paper, slid it across the desk toward him, and made her escape while he was busy.
…
Sara’s elegant, deep red cocktail dress was no different than many of the others in the function room of the hotel, yet Ethan couldn’t stop staring. His entire world was wrapped up in the woman in this dress. Every thought he had related to her in some way, and his career had become something unfortunate that dragged him away from her five days a week. He gathered her closer, tormenting himself with the constant brush of her body against his as they slow danced among LA’s elite.
“We should do this every day.”
Sara smiled up at him. “If we did, we’d lose what little sleep time we have.”
“Sleeping’s overrated.”
In the space of a heartbeat the mood between them shifted, heating, promising untold delights if they gave it free rein. Ethan shifted closer. “Slip your arms around my neck.” He dropped his hands to her hips and held her still while he pressed against her, wincing slightly when her fingers tightened in his hair. “Tell me why we should stay here.”
“Do you think anyone would notice if we left?”
“No.”
He tugged her hand, directing her to the right as they slipped out a side entrance and stepped into a long hall.
She pulled him into the shadows midway be
tween wall sconces, and rose up on her tiptoes, her soft body sliding against his.
“What if we didn’t have to drive home tonight?”
The room card she pressed into his hand shattered the last of his resolve. Sara had expanded the boundaries of their marriage in the sweetest possible way. Everything she did was smooth and perfect, just like—
He halted the progress of his hand as it slid up her thigh, raising the modest hem of her dress to an indecent level. Hell, they had a room nearby. Surely he could wait till they got there to start undressing her?
“Where?”
She pointed and he dragged himself away from her long enough to stride down the hall, her small hand held tightly within his.
He flung the door to their room open and drew her inside, telling her what he needed before the door had fully closed.
“Dress. Off. Now.”
Her throat shifted delicately as she swallowed. Without a word she reached for his hands and guided them to the side zipper of her dress.
She hadn’t spoken, yet his mind supplied the phrase, you do it.
He took a beat, the importance of this moment sinking in. If he wanted more than thirty days with Sara, he had to get this right. He lowered the zipper and lifted her dress up and over her head in one quick motion, aware that her lingerie would need to be appreciated at length. His control was usually rock solid, but it shook whenever he got close to Sara.
She stepped closer when he stared for too long without touching.
“Nice?”
Perfect breasts, encased in deep red satin, nudged against the black of his suit jacket. He smiled slowly and shook his head.
“Not nice. Exquisite.”
“New.”
He trailed his fingers over the satin cups of her bra.
“Nice.” He released the front clasp and cupped her breasts in his large hands, watching in delight as her nipples beaded beneath his thumbs. “Exquisite.”
She closed her eyes, tipping her head back against the door as he flicked the tip of his tongue over one nipple. Her hands searched blindly, finding his head and clutching it to her chest. She arched her back, offering him more of her breast.
He suckled deeply while easing her hair over her opposite shoulder. He backed away enough to admire the fall of her hair down one side of her body. With one nipple rosy and wet from his mouth, the other hidden, and ruffled red panties peeking at him from beneath the heavy fall of her hair, his wife stole his breath.
When she shifted nervously her right nipple poked between the strands of her hair. With a guttural groan he swooped in to take control of it, his focus shattering when her hands cupped the sides of his face and stroked tenderly. If he was going to have any chance of doing all the things he’d dreamed of, she needed to keep her hands to herself. When a plan stormed his brain, he ran with it.
“Come with me.” He led her to the bathroom and closed the door, scowling at the lack of hooks on the back of it. The shower would have to do. Ignoring her questioning look, he backed her into the shower. He pushed her breasts together, admiring her exaggerated cleavage even as he teased her nipples with his thumbs.
She looked around wildly. “Wait! I’ve got heels on.”
“No water. Trust me.”
For a moment he thought she’d argue, but his mouth on hers seemed to win her over. He pulled back, gathering her hair into his hand at her nape then holding her gaze as he looped it over the shower head and tied a loose knot. Her eyes glazed with something close to alarm, her hands reaching upward in automatic response.
“Sh.” He leaned in and tried to replicate the absolute sweetness of their first kiss, his hands covering hers on the shower head.
Her mouth responded to his, but the jerky movement of her hands told him she was conflicted. She shifted, moaning when her puckered nipples dragged across his lapels.
He thrust his chest forward, bending his knees a little to vary the stimulation. He trailed his lips across her cheek and spoke against her ear. “Just relax for me, Sara. Widen your feet a little for balance, close your eyes and hold on tight.”
The moment her feet edged apart, he knew he had her. Slowly, one hand at a time, he released his hold on her. He stroked his fingers back and forth above her panties, maintaining contact as he took in the sight of her. His damn hand was shaking as he slid lower, the battle between urgency and awe raging out of control within him.
Her sudden intake of air steadied him. She was wildly out of her comfort zone, virtually naked, restrained by her hair, and teetering on skyscraper heels. For him.
He massaged her through her panties, stifling a groan as he realized how wet she was. When she pressed against his palm, he did groan. He tweaked one nipple sharply while softly lapping at the other, his hand moving lazily between her legs, soaking her panties with her juices.
Her breathing grew shallow, her entire body swaying as she clung to the shower head and allowed him to pleasure her. He dropped to a squat, guiding her legs together so he could peel her panties down. His heart damn near stopped when he spied a small foil packet in an ingenious hidden pocket beneath the red ruffles. He rattled the packet, grinning when she laughed breathlessly.
“It’s for you.”
His hands clawed at his clothing, settling for undoing his belt and dropping his pants and boxers. He tore the packet and rolled it on, positioning his cock at the entrance to her body and probing gently. “Look at me.”
He held her gaze as he slowly slid inside her, watching for the moment this position would become awkward. “Put your hands on my shoulders. Slip one shoe off at a time.” He didn’t have to say anything else. She wanted to wrap her legs around him, and cling tight as he supported her gorgeous heart-shaped bottom. He filled her over and over, feeling her rising tension as she neared climax. He gritted his teeth, bouncing her slightly, willing her to hurry. “Come for me.”
She did, instantly. He stilled, allowing her orgasm to send him over the edge. God he loved being married. Nothing could compare.
…
Sara tried to move her leg and found that it was weighted down. Three separate sets of memories bombarded her mind and she flushed a deeper red than last night’s dress. Ethan hadn’t been kidding when he’d said sleep was overrated.
She woke him gently, sliding her flattened palm across his stomach, shrieking in surprise when he captured her hand.
“Zoe got a room here as well. I told her we’d meet her for breakfast at nine, so we don’t have time. Ethan!”
His hand began a slow descent, dragging hers with it.
“Stop that.” She smiled at him, feeling tempted despite her promise to Zoe. “This isn’t a choice between breakfast and bed. We don’t have to checkout till midday.”
She patted his shoulder when he grumbled.
“Take a few extra minutes to wrap your head around the idea.” She slid out of bed and into a robe, casually twirling the belt. “I’ll be in the shower. Alone. Naked.” She laughed when he caught the end of her belt. He tugged and she let the robe slip off, making a dash for the bathroom, knowing he’d follow.
She’d half expected management to pound on the door and carry on about a fair use water policy, but her half hour shower with Ethan went unnoticed. She was running late for breakfast, and she still hadn’t told Ethan about the appointment she’d made to look at office space, but those were minor concerns. Nothing could go wrong on a day that started this fabulously.
She tried not to skip as she rushed down the hall toward the café. Ethan was on the phone with his PA, so she’d left him behind. She rounded a corner and collided with a couple walking toward her.
“Sara?”
“Gabe?” Her gaze swung between her ex and the woman tucked against his side, a sick sense of dread rising within her. “What are you doing here?”
The woman, a compact blonde, answered for him. “We changed the destination of the return flights so we could catch up with my parents here in LA on our way home. Phuke
t was lovely, by the way.” She giggled. “Everything you organized was perfect, even that silly old church. You should consider wedding planning as a fulltime career.”
What the hell?
She stared at the woman’s left hand, scarcely able to draw breath as the truth hit her. Gabe had chosen to marry this… person, instead of her.
“Sara?” Gabe’s voice sounded weird, kind of far away and muffled. “Are you okay?”
She tried to focus, and couldn’t.
“Sara! Are you okay?”
James’ face appeared suddenly, seeming dangerously close to hers. Moments later she was leaning heavily against him, grateful for his support.
“Zoe sent me to look for you. And just in time, too.” His tone hardened as he turned his attention away from her. “I’m guessing you’re Gabe? I think you’ve done your worst. It’s time you left.”
Gabe had just started to argue when Ethan’s voice cut him off.
“Get the hell away from my wife. What more could you possibly want from her? You’ve already wasted four years of her life. Then you stood her up at her dream wedding and married someone else, on Sara’s dime.” Ethan sliced his hand through the air. “She paid, you got the benefit, and the insurance policy is void because the event still went ahead.”
Sara’s body felt bruised all over, as if every new revelation was a physical blow. Gabe appeared to have acted reprehensibly, but Ethan’s knowledge, his deception, tore her apart.
It was impossible not to trust a man who scraped your life up off the floor and helped reassemble it. When he, too, turned out to be a self-serving jerk, it was time to swear off men altogether.
“Sara?” Gabe’s hand hovered above her forearm before dropping to his side. “I’m sorry. I broke it off with Jess before I met you, because our relationship didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Your future plans looked so good, so definite, that I wanted to be part of them. I thought I’d fall for you, eventually.” He shook his head. “It’s always been Jess, Sara. I couldn’t stop picturing her in your place at the wedding, so I called it off. Jess and I knew we had to cancel everything, but somehow we couldn’t. The date got closer, and then you left, and it was all set up, ready to go… It might take a while, but we’ll find a way to repay the money.”
