Do Not Disturb Until Christmas

by Charlene Sands

  Sarah didn’t have to write them down. She wouldn’t forget them. That’s how she wrote. She’d sing the tunes silently and they would become a part of her, staying with her until she finished the entire song. Only then, would she reveal the song to her band, expert musicians who could put the melody to her lyrics, just the way she envisioned.

  The next day, Sarah woke with a deep sense of satisfaction about the new song that still formulated in her head. She’d spent half the night working on it and now her eyes burned from lack of sleep.

  She didn’t function well on less than seven hours of rest—three was a killer. She rose from bed and plunged her arms into her bathrobe, then trudged to the kitchenette to make a pot of coffee. While the coffee brewed, she toasted two slices of bread and decided against butter or strawberry jam today. Her appetite lacked enthusiasm, and she knew better than to force the issue.

  Toast and coffee would suffice today.

  She moved slowly through the suite, taking a long leisurely shower that didn’t accomplish the task of perking up her fatigued body. She dressed in soft pink sweats and slipped her feet into flip-flops with bright yellow daisies at the top.

  By mid-morning, her mood hadn’t brightened.

  Only when the knock came at her door did she remember that she had a fitting for her new concert wardrobe. “Coming,” she said and ambled to the door.

  As soon as she opened the door, Robert entered with two of her designers pulling a rack of clothes and behind them, her make-up artist and hairdresser followed. “We’ve got some great pieces here,” Robert said. He gestured for the women to take up the better part of her living room space, the clothes rack placed in front of her Christmas tree, making the routine invasion harder to swallow this morning.

  “Good morning,” she said to all, wishing she were back in bed, tucked in cozy and warm.

  They greeted her with cheerful smiles.

  Those smiles nearly did her in and she knew she couldn’t face a day of being trussed up and painted. “Lori and Wendy, I’m sorry, but I need to reschedule with you.”

  Robert intervened, just like clockwork. “What do you mean, reschedule?”

  “I’m not feeling well today. I’ll try on the clothes, because time’s running short in case alterations are needed, but I’m not up to trying new hair or makeup today.”

  “Sure thing, Sarah,” Wendy said and Lori concurred.

  “Now, just a minute,” Robert said as the women turned to leave, their cases and equipment in hand. “We have to do this today, Sarah. Your first concert is on Friday night.”

  “Lori and Wendy know what they’re doing. We don’t need a trial run.” She shot another look their way. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience. Enjoy your day.”

  Robert’s face twisted in restrained anger as the door closed behind them. Sarah had seen that look a hundred times over the years, and this time, she didn’t care. She was too tired to put up with his tirades. “Let it go, Robert.”

  He sighed impatiently and waved her over to see her new outfits.

  Sarah scanned the clothes with a discerning eye. She couldn’t hold her annoyance at bay another second. “Every one of them has sequins and rhinestones. And this one,” she said, holding up a one-piece jumpsuit, “has feathers! I thought you understood. I wanted subtle, not…this.”

  She turned to the designers whom she’d worked with on and off for her entire career. “It’s not your fault. I know you only did what Robert told you, but I can’t wear any of these. Not the way they are now. I’ll look like a female Elvis wannabe. These are not me, Robert,” she said calming her voice down. She wasn’t a diva with princess tendencies. “I’m a simple Texas girl not a…a—”

  “You’re a star, Sarah. We need to let everyone know that. We’ve had this argument before. I’ve always steered you right.”

  Yes, they’d had this argument before, but this time Robert had gone overboard. Sarah would sooner wear a clown costume than these flashy clothes he’d commissioned.

  “Ladies, give me a minute alone with Sarah,” he said to the designers, anxiously walking them outside.

  After he closed the door and returned to her, he shook his head. “What’s gotten into you lately? You’ve never questioned my judgment before. Why now?”

  “I have questioned your judgment, Robert. For years now, but you haven’t listened. You don’t hear me. And you’re making me into someone I’m not. I can’t sing if I don’t feel honest about myself.” Her frustration mounted as her patience grew thin. “I can’t do this right now. I need some air.”

  She marched out of her suite, leaving Robert alone. She’d never walked out on him before. She’d never really stood her ground either. She’d woken up tired and grouchy, lacking patience with him this morning. She’d always left everything to him, and maybe that’s where she’d gone wrong. There was no denying she owed him a great deal, but for once, Sarah felt justified in her demands. For once, she’d told Robert that his way wasn’t the only way.

  And it felt darn good.

  Code had his security team situated in various parts of the music hall, strategically placed to keep an eye on the crowd, while he stood on the sidelines backstage. Gigantic pine wreaths decorated with big gold ornaments and neatly tied red velvet bows hung from the rafters. Poinsettia plants lined the front stage, and the inviting scent of pine filled the hall.

  The house was sold out, and a tick worked in his jaw as he noted Sarah’s fans filing into the Harmony Room and taking their seats. Even now, ten years later, it was a bitter pill to swallow thinking she’d given up the love they’d shared—a love he’d trusted, to run off with Robert Gillespie, an upstart young music producer, to make a name for herself on the country music circuit.

  Code had seen Gillespie around the hotel, issuing orders, conducting business and arguing with the tour manager over input lists and lighting. There was no doubt that Gillespie had great influence over Sarah and her success. She had changed because of Gillespie, and Code hated him for that.

  But he blamed Sarah most of all.

  Code was here in New Orleans because of her and for no other reason.

  “Are all your men in place?” Gillespie asked, coming to stand beside Code but looking straight out into the crowd.

  “My team are where they need to be,” Code said, keeping his irritation concealed.

  “I hope so,” Gillespie said. “Sarah doesn’t need any more stress right now. She hasn’t been herself lately.”

  “Maybe she’s being pushed too hard,” Code said, casting Gillespie a direct stare.

  “Stay out of my business, Landon.”

  “I could care less about your business,” Code shot back, then he caught sight of Sarah heading his way walking with Betsy McKnight and the other back up singers. He left Gillespie and approached her.

  “I need to go over some last minute plans with you.”

  Sarah nodded and her back up singers moved on. “Anything wrong?”

  “Not a thing,” Code said, taking her hand and leading her away from Gillespie and the band members who were readying to take the stage. He moved quickly, until he’d come upon a secluded alcove behind backstage lighting equipment.

  He hadn’t spoken with her since that night in his hotel suite, but he’d had his team watching her routinely and been given reports. Tonight, she looked pretty in a soft denim skirt, a frilly white blouse and a big studded silver belt that accented her tiny waist. Her hair, the color of a deep sunset spilled down past her shoulders in curls, one sole crystal clip over her left ear keeping it in place.

  “So what do you—”

  “This,” he said, pulling her into him and crushing his mouth to hers. Code couldn’t get his fill. He stroked her lips and slanted his mouth over hers until both were nearly out of breath. Unlike the others who wanted Sarah because of her fame and fortune, Code felt just the opposite. None of that mattered to him. His desire for her had nothing to do with her celebrity.

  “Wow,�
�� she said, staring into his eyes.

  Code smiled and returned her stare. She was dressed for her performance tonight and shined everywhere but in her eyes. There, he noted the same weariness and fatigue he’d witnessed the other night. Something niggled at him. Something wasn’t right. He knew how important raising money for the Dream Foundation was to her, but somehow that eagerness contrasted sharply with the loss of sheen in her eyes, the weariness that no amount of makeup could conceal and the slump of her shoulders.

  “Sarah, are you up for this?”

  “I’m ready, Code. Just a bit tired.”

  He’d known about her hectic schedule. Gillespie had her running in circles most days with giving interviews, doing radio shows, rehearsals and fittings.

  “And confused,” she added. “I haven’t seen you in three days, and now you kiss me like—”

  “You were busy and so was I.”

  Sarah stared at his mouth and then closed her eyes briefly. “Code Landon, you can’t just come and go into my life like this. I’m not—”

  “You’re on, Sarah!” the stage manager said, rounding the corner, nearly in a panic as her theme music played on stage.

  “I’ve got to go,” she said and Code watched her shift gears, becoming a celebrity entertainer the minute she crossed backstage lines and was greeted by thousands of adoring fans.

  Winded after singing three encore songs to a standing ovation, Sarah walked off stage like a pro waving a final farewell to the audience.

  Then promptly collapsed.

  “Damn it! Sarah, wake up. Wake up, Sarah.”

  Sarah blinked her eyes open, dazed. She found herself lying horizontal on the floor encased in Code’s strong arms. “What happened?” she asked, her mind clouded.

  “You fainted,” he said, leaning over her, “the minute you left the stage.”

  She remembered now. Her legs had been two strands of rubber while doing her last few songs. She’d been out of breath and a chill had swamped her. She’d maintained her composure until the very end. The second she left the stage, her body surrendered, her eyes rolled and that was the last thing she recalled.

  She heard voices of concern surround her.

  “Is she all right?”

  It was Betsy. Then Robert.

  “Let me see her,” he insisted.

  Code tightened his grip on her. “I’ll take care of it,” he said. “Back off, everyone. I’ve got her.”

  Code lifted her in his arms and searched her eyes, leaving no room to doubt his intentions. “You okay with that?”

  She nodded, still woozy but feeling safe with Code.

  “Landon, she’s my responsibility,” Robert insisted.

  “This is a security matter, Gillespie. Back away.” Then Code issued orders to a few members of his team who had congregated. “It’s under control. You know what to do,” he said and his employees filed out of the backstage area.

  Code walked down the hallway behind the stage. “I’m coming with you,” Gillespie said. “Sarah needs to see a doctor.”

  “No, I don’t.” Sarah protested with a shake of her head. A mistake. Her wooziness intensified. “I’m fine. Code, you can put me down now.”

  Code slanted her an impatient look. “Not on your life.”

  He continued on to the private elevator that led to their suites. Robert rattled on incessantly and Code ignored him.

  “For heaven’s sake, Robert. I’m fine. I didn’t eat before the show. That’s all it is. Thanks for your concern, but you don’t need to babysit me. Good night,” she said, dismissing him.

  Code entered the elevator, leaving Robert standing there looking doubtful.

  “The minute we reach my suite, you will put me down,” she said to Code as the elevator doors closed. Sarah didn’t like feeling helpless. She felt foolish being carried up to her suite by Code. She wasn’t a damsel in distress. And Code certainly wasn’t her knight in shining armor.

  Since he was hell-bent on ignoring her, she closed her eyes and leaned back, trying to recoup her energy.

  The next thing she knew, Code opened the door and walked inside still holding her in his arms. Instant warning bells rang in her head. “This isn’t my suite.”

  “No, it’s mine,” he said, moving toward his bedroom. He pulled back the sheets on his massive king bed and set her down gently. “You won’t get any rest in your suite, Sarah. I know you. The phone will ring off the hook. Now lay down and be quiet a minute while I call the hotel doctor.”

  “I don’t need a doctor.” Sarah immediately bounded up from the bed and the room spun wildly. She nearly swooned again. “Oh,” she muttered and found herself in Code’s arms again.

  “Don’t be stubborn, Sarah,” he said softly now, gazing into her eyes. She liked the more soft-spoken, less demanding Code Landon best of all. “Lay down here for a while. I won’t disturb you.”

  “You won’t?” Sarah said automatically, realizing she sounded more disappointed than skeptical.

  “No, I won’t. But I expect you to eat a meal and go right to sleep.”

  Code flipped out his cell phone and called room service. He ordered her a light meal asking for a quick delivery.

  “No doctor,” she pleaded, already sinking into his sheets. “I’ll be fine in just a few minutes.”

  Code sighed heavily then agreed. “Okay, no doctor, but you’re not leaving this room until you eat and sleep. That means you’re staying until morning.”

  Sarah wouldn’t argue with Code. The comfortable mattress beckoned and she couldn’t fight the exhaustion sapping her strength any longer. She drifted off, agreeing once again to Code’s terms. “I’ll stay until morning.”

  Four

  S arah rolled onto her back, the sexy scent of sandalwood filling her nostrils. She looked beside her and noted that the other half of the bed had been slept in, the pillow indented, the sheets pulled in haphazard fashion.

  Glancing around the room, she saw her clothes set neatly over a chair with her boots lying beneath. Fortunately she recalled last night with clarity. Code had taken her to his suite after she’d fainted. She’d dozed on this bed, then woke to eat a late night dinner with him and had retired back in this room. Code had given her his shirt to sleep in and had left her alone.

  Vaguely, she recalled him holding her during the night. Vaguely, she recalled his words of comfort as she slumbered. And even more vaguely, she remembered him rising early, leaving her at peace in his bed.

  Noises from the master bath had her turning in that direction. Sounds of water rained down, and she realized Code hadn’t left the suite after all. She heard him enter the shower and shut the door. She closed her eyes, imagining herself in that shower with him, heated by clouds of steam and Code’s naked body. Her imagination took flight from there and she pushed erotic thoughts of soaping him from top to bottom and him doing the same to her, out of her head.

  She remembered Code’s terms. No holds barred. No commitments. No regrets.

  “Sarah, don’t be a fool,” she whispered and heeded her own advice. She rose from the bed, feeling slightly refreshed from the good night’s sleep she’d had and quickly unbuttoned Code’s shirt. She removed it and grabbed her own clothes hoping to make a quiet, but quick exit.

  She dressed and finger combed her hair. When she heard the shower door open again, she hastened her progress, picked up her boots and made her way out of the bedroom.

  “No goodbyes, Sarah? I should be used to that by now.”

  Sarah stopped in her tracks, caught red-handed. She felt a little guilty for trying to sneak out on Code. He’d been cordial and concerned last night and had taken good care of her.

  She turned around and her heart stuck in her throat when she came face to face with Code, his short black hair wet and slicked back, his gaze fastened on her. Water dripped on his bare muscled chest and thick forearms bunched when he folded his arms across his chest. He wore a white towel that dipped below his navel, wreaking havoc with her imag
ination.

  “I thought I’d better go, Code,” she managed, darting another glance over his chest. “It’s getting late.”

  “So you thought you’d just sneak out of the suite?”

  “I…um,” she fumbled, then raised her chin, refusing to let Code intimidate her. “Well, yes. You did enough for me last night.”

  His lips curved in a sinful smile, his voice deep and ominous. “On the contrary, Sarah. I didn’t do nearly what I wanted to do.”

  Sarah swallowed. Code always made her doubt her decisions. She wanted to stay, when she knew darn well she had to leave.

  “Come here,” he said, his midnight blue eyes coaxing her.

  She fought her desire, her pride in jeopardy. “No.”

  “Afraid of me?”

  “Maybe, a little,” she admitted, raising her chin a notch higher.

  “Because you know that we’re damn good together.”

  Yes. Yes. Yes.

  “And it’s the last thing you want.” Code burned her with the truth.

  She couldn’t respond. She let go a weary sigh. “You did something nice for me last night. I appreciate it, Code. Can’t we let it go at that?”

  He shot her an amused look. “Nice? You think I was being nice to you when I carried you back here, fed you and tucked you in?”

  Puzzled, Sarah nodded with hesitation.

  “I’m not a nice guy, Sarah. I did that for Brock. This hotel is sold out because of you. You’re a no-show at the concert, and the hotel suffers. Your well-being means big bucks, so let’s not pretend different, okay?”

  Deeply stung, Sarah held back tears. No one could have changed so much in ten years. The old Cody wouldn’t have ever deliberately hurt her this way, and she wasn’t sure this new Code Landon was as cruel as he let on. “You’re angry that I picked up my boots and tried to walk out on you this morning. You’re angry because I don’t want you on your terms, so let’s not pretend different, okay?”

  Code grinned and his whole stance relaxed. “Oh, baby. You want me, on any terms, and that’s what’s got you so rattled.”