O'Brien's Lady

by Marsha Doss

  "Did you see the expression in Lady's eyes?" Sonny inclined her head to the side and Michael bent down to kiss her lightly on the neck. If he'd just stop for a minute she could make enough small talk to end this, but his lips were warm and moist and she turned to protest.

  "Listen, Michael…" Her words were stopped by the hands that cupped her face, holding her gently, securely before his lips trailed the outline of her nose from the very tip to her forehead. She braced her palms against the counter in back of her, trying to move away from his touch, but wanting to have him even closer.

  "Pm sorry about the horse," Michael said with sincerity.

  "What horse?" Sonny asked.

  "The one I bought at the auction. If you're really unhappy, I'll find a way to cancel."

  Sonny had not expected this from Michael.

  Damn, she thought. Just when she had figured him out, he did something so out of character that it threw her into a false sense of security. Why did he do this? Couldn't he just be uncaring and unscrupulous for the next three months?

  "What's done is done, Michael. Just consult me the next time." Sonny tried to steady the uneven flow of words, but Michael's presence and the tart smell of his cologne was doing strange things to her."I promise, I'll tell you each and every move I am going to make."

  "You needn't be sarcastic, Michael. You should have known that the

  Purchase of a new horse was important. What would my father have said if you had taken it upon yourself to represent Pinebrook."

  Michael moved toward Sonny, and she felt like the air had been sucked from the room. Her anger was simmering now, and she did not want him to think he could break her down. She would show him just how strong a business partner she could be. At least that was her plan.

  "You want to know what I am going to do next?" Michael asked.

  Sonny shook her head, "I am going to kiss you." His voice was quiet but firm.

  And then, he did kiss her. His arms were around her waist, pulling her gently to him. She wasn't going to fail for his flirtatious ways. She would be strong. Her intentions were stronger than her emotions, and Sonny wrapped her arms around his neck, and she closed her eyes, feeling the little soft kisses move from her forehead down to the contour of her cheeks, before pressing his lips to hers.

  "Michael," she gasped as she pulled herself away. His dark eyes looked down at her and Michael smiled warmly. For a woman who dressed and tried to act like a sophisticate, he knew that Sonny was still the innocent child that had left four years ago. Her sweetness touched him and he knew that she would not have him knowing how unsure she really was. The fear in her eyes was coupled with the desire that burned in her face, and he knew that she needed, more than anything, to belong somewhere. Michael hoped with all his heart that somewhere would be here at Pinebrook. With him.

  Pulling the curtain back from her bedroom window, Sonny watched Michael as he walked back down the hill to the stables. She wondered if his knees were shaking as hard as hers. What was he thinking about her? Did he kiss Carol Ann that way? Not that it should matter to her…but it did. Everything Michael said or experienced was important to her. She could not shake this strange feeling of attachment that existed between them. Like a link in a chain, she felt Complete when he was holding her. Sonny changed into jeans and shirt and finished

  the afternoon halter-breaking Midnight. The young colt was easily handled and very responsive to accept the apparatus around his slender neck.

  Will and Michael watched as she put the young colt through the routine of walking in a circular motion, teaching him to feel a gentle pull of the rein, and knowing what it felt like to be guided by human command.

  As Sonny grasped the leather strap in her fingers, she gently guided Midnight, keeping up with his brisk pace.

  "Who-o-a, Midnight," she called. "Michael, he really wants to move."

  "Just be firm, Sonny. Don't, let him lead you, that the important thing to remember. He has to learn to take his commands from that rein."

  "All right, but he's strong." She pulled back slightly on the reins, just enough to let the colt know that she was still doing the leading. His head turned in her direction and then he slowed to a comfortable gait.

  "She's got em' now," Will said. "Look at em' Michael, he can hardly wait to run again." Will's dark eyes burned with excitement and he folded his arms and watched Midnight responding to training. He had waited many years for this kind of a horse, and was sorry that J.B. weren't here to see it himself.

  Michael came forward and situated himself so that Sonny had to brush past him each time she made

  the round. She tried to keep her head turned away, but some force pulled her around and each time, she looked into Michael dark eyes.

  He was not the gentle made in the dark room who had kissed her with such warmth. Now he was strong and determined and every bit the experienced trainer.

  As her leg brushed past his she felt the surge of excitement that passed through her and she tried to move away the next time.

  The afternoon breeze rifled through Sonny's hair, and she forgot about the split end she had just conditioned and reached in her pocket for a rubber band. Tieing her hair back from her face, she watched Graceful Lady take the lead as she was returned to the ring. Midnight's haltar was removed and he followed close behind. As the chestnut horses galloped around, the green pines served as nature's perfect back drop for their sleek, muscular bodies.

  "There's not a creature on this green earth to top the Thoroughbred," Will said.

  "I think you're right," Sonny agreed as sheleaned against the wood fence.

  Will slipped his arm around her shoulder.

  "Your father loved this place. He was always happy to be home after his travels."

  Sonny turned away, but not so quickly that Will could not see the pain in her blue eyes. He had

  watched her leave the farm, and now she was back, fitting into the routine of the stables quite nicely. He noted the sheer joy on her young face as she worked with the Lady and her colt. Those were signs of hope. For, if Sonny did not stay here, then a sale might be eventual and Will could not bear to leave his home or the animals he loved.

  Michael closed the gate and joined them. "He's coming around, Dad."

  "You handled him well, son."

  Michael ruffled Will's salt and pepper hair with his hand in a playful gesture. "I had a good teacher."

  Sonny watched their playful exchange and envied them. Her father was not a playful man. He was serious most of the time, bent on his business and keeping things run smoothly.

  Sonny had always admired those traits in J.B. She on the other hand was impulsive. Given to change, she didn't always think things through. Even her trip to France had been quickly decided. Her long time friend Jan had landed a modeling contract with an agency in Paris and wanted a roommate. Sonny had gone along, hoping to get enough work herself through an agency to help pay the rent.

  Modeling had soon bored Sonny, and through her photography, she found the career that best suited her needs and talents. She wondered what life would have been like if she had stayed here. Would she and her father ever had time together? It was a question that occurred to her often and one she would never have answered.

  Michael gave his father a mock punch in the stomach and then turned his attention to Sonny.

  "You look bushed. How about dinner with me, tonight?"

  Sonny shook her head. After his appearance in the dark room earlier that morning, she preferred to keep her distance. "I have some reading to catch up on. Maybe some other time."

  Will winked at Sonny. "Better say yes. He may not make the offer again."

  "Yes, I will. Again…will you have dinner with me?" Michael's eyes danced with merriment and

  one thick eyebrow arched as he watched her reaction. She suddenly found him hard to resist, and what could be wrong with dinner. She would just see that he kept his distance.

  "All right, Michael. I'll go." Sonny smil
ed and winked mischievously at Will, whose face shown with satisfaction.

  Michael swept his hand under her chin and kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose. "I'll shower and change and pick you up at the house."

  Sonny stood under the pulsating water of the shower, allowing the warmth to ease her tired muscles. Working with Midnight was proving to be strenuous work and her shoulders felt sore to the touch. Her hair, which had become tangled, now had to be washed again. Pity that she had spent her money to have it done that morning.

  Feeling refreshed after the shower, Sonny slipped into a red jersey dress with a pleated skirt. She fastened the fabric belt and then pushed up the sleeves to just above her elbows. The rounded neckline accentuated her slender neck and she fastened a single strand of pearls and stepped into her black heels.

  Sonny allowed her hair to fall over her shoulders. She had inherited her mother's naturally wavy hair, so styling was quite simple. She was grateful for that. But, her complexion came from her father who had dark hair and bronzed skin. She tanned easily and did not have the fairness of a natural blond. Now, as she applied lip gloss, she needed very little else. Her constant exposure to the sun had left her rosy-cheeked and healthy looking.

  Michael greeted Sonny at the door with a low whistle of approval. She smiled appreciatively and found herself loving the way his eyes scanned the length of her body, beginning at her toes and ending with her face.

  "You should wear red more often," he said as his arm went around her shoulders.

  Sonny was trying not to stare, but Michael looked magnificently handsome in a white shirt, open at the throat. Grey trousers hugged his long legs and a navy blue blazer framed his broad shoulders and slender waist.

  Her photographer's eye suddenly pictured Michael in a jungle scene, with his khaki shirt and pants and a rifle slung over his shoulder. He was the perennial hero that usually had to be fabricated in books or movie theaters. Only now he was real and he was here.

  CHAPTER 8

  "Would you care for a cocktail?" The waitress who stood before them was dressed in a white ruffled blouse and colorful peasant skirt. She wore brown sandals and her black hair was long and tied back with a single red ribbon.

  "Margaritas?" Michael's brow arched inquisitively and Sonny gave her nod of approval.

  When the waitress returned, she carried a pitcher full and two wide-rimmed goblets with salt around the edges. Michael poured the drinks, then tipped his glass in a toast.

  "Here's to our partnership and Pinebrook."

  She touched her glass to Michael's and then took a slow sip of the cold liquid. There was something very traditional about having Mexican food and it reminded her that she was again in California and not in Paris. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a chili relleno or a cheese enchilada.

  "Penny for your thoughts," Michael said.

  "Oh…I was looking at the beautiful colors in here and thinking that it makes me feel very happy." Sonny loved the tall pottery containers with their brightly painted flowers. The archways were adorned with tall ferns and baskets of greenery hung from the dark rafters. The atmosphere was cool and refreshing.

  "Pm glad to hear you say you're happy. These past few weeks haven't been too easy for you, have they?" Michael's dark eyes were soft and sympathetic.

  She had thought these past three months were unbearable, but sitting here now they seemed like minutes all fused together.

  "It's not been too bad, Michael. I'm really going to mis the Lady and Midnight when I go home."

  "Have you considered staying?" Michael asked the question very cautiously.

  "No."

  Michael was surprised by her quick answer, but felt the subject should be pursued. If Sonny had not given herself time to consider the possibility, then perhaps she would now.

  "Midnight will be running in two years," Michael said, as he licked the salt from his lips.

  "I can't even think that far ahead, Michael. Remember, I'm the impulsive one who lives for the moment."

  "Yes, I know all about that side of you," he said smiling at her over the rim of his glass.

  "Do you really think Midnight has what it takes?"

  "He's got it all right, and more. This time the charts were right. He'll be a champion."

  Sonny had wondered what Midnight would look like at full growth. He would be powerfully strong and run with the grace and agility of his mother. She tingled with the thought of nurturing the training of a champion Thoroughbred.

  "I might come back to see him run," Sonny said quietly.

  Michael moved his hand close to her and covered it with his own. "Stay, Sonny. Help me train him and we'll watch him run together."

  The floor was moving under her suddenly and she felt a stab of pain in the pit of her stomach.

  Michael was still holding her hand and she couldn't stop the trembling in her legs.

  It would be so easy to let herself believe that look in his eyes or let herself promise to stay, but Sonny could not decide whether she should trust Michael. After all, if she caused problems at the end of the six month period, then he could stand to lose the farm that he now shared with her.

  And, why would she give up the glamour she had found in Paris and the excitement she enjoyed with

  Pierre? Those things didn't come along in someone's life everyday. At least not in hers. No, she told herself as she pulled her hand away, she mustn't let her emotions rule her good sense of judgement. This was just a ploy to keep the farm, and she had to recognize Michael's motives as well as her own.

  She was relieved to see the waitress coming toward them with two large earthenware plates.

  The food was hot and delicious and Sonny was surprised that she cleaned her plate."working on the farm stimulates the appetite," Michael said, "among other things."

  Sonny ignored the implication of his remark as she took a sip of her Margarita. As she felt the last bit of salt cling to her mouth, she slowly ran her tongue around the corners. Michael was following her actions carefully, knowing that she was unaware of the sensual effect she was creating.

  Her hair was full and softly waved around her face and the small nose that turned up was just the least bit shiny. Michael remembered what it had felt like to kiss her and to taste her alluring sweetness.

  "Is something wrong?" she asked, suddenly aware that she was being carefully scrutinized.

  "Why?"

  "You're looking at me in a strange way."

  "Just memorizing your face," Michael said softly.

  Sonny shivered involuntarily. Stop it, Michael, she thought, before I forget what you're trying to do to me. Her eyes looked away from his broad face and the thick eyebrows that arched slightly, gave him the appearance of a rogue. A very handsome rogue, at that.

  "You're wasting all this small talk on me," Sonny said quickly. "Why not save it for Carol Ann Layne."

  Michael smiled wickedly. "Do I hear a little jealousy in your voice?"

  "Me?"

  "Yes, you Sonny."

  "Why would I be jealous of a woman with false eyelashes and black roots." Sonny traced the outline of her glass with her finger. "That would be absurd wouldn't it?"

  Michael leaned across the table. "Would it?"

  Sonny licked the last bit of salt from her finger and placed the glass to the table. She didn't trust herself to look at his eyes because she could already feel the color rush to her face. Why did Michael always catch her off-guard? She had felt so ready for him this evening, so much in charge. She quickly recovered her composure.

  "I think we should be getting back home," she said as she dabbed the corners of her mouth with the napkin.

  Michael leaned forward, until his face was very close to hers. "Sure, if that's what you want."

  Sonny stiffened and pushed her chair back. In one fluid movement, Michael was behind her, gently touching her elbow and helping her to her feet. When he made no effort to release his hold, she held her head high and walked out beside
him.

  He's going to kiss me, she thought all the way home. She imagined him stopping in the driveway, pulling her over and all but crushing her with his firm mouth. She could almost feel his hot breath spilling over her. No…he'd walk her to the front door, then…What am I doing, she thought. I don't want him to kiss me!

  Sonny had never waited for Pierre's kiss. It was something was offered as a sign of affection. Nothing passionate and certainly nothing that awakened anything. And, it was comfortable. She recalled evenings with Pierre when her thoughts had been on the next day's work and not on the smell of his cologne or the dark hair on his arms and chest or…she looked at Michael's profile, silhouetted against the window and her heart did flip flops.

  Michael pulled into the driveway and stopped the motor. Coming around to the passenger's side, he opened the door and extended his hand. Sonny stepped out mechanically.

  This is it, she thought. Here was the moment she had waited for…no, dreaded all night. She might just as well get it over with.

  "Good night, Michael and thanks for a nice dinner," she said, tilting her head up toward his face. Michael touched her chin with the tip of his finger and Sonny closed her eyes and held her breath. "Good night, Sonny."

  Her lids flew open just in time to see him walking back around to the driver's seat. Sonny could not believe what had just happened. Michael was playing a game with her now. She hadn't given way to the old one, so it was time for new tactics.

  He must have known she was waiting for that kiss and it infuriated her that he would leave her so abruptly.

  As the truck drove off, Sonny clenched her fists at her side.

  "Damn you, Michael O'Brien."

  After a leisurely stretch, Sonny roused herself from bed and slipped her white terry robe over her gown, tying it securely at the waist. Like a fool, she had waited for Pierre's call and finally given up and gone to bed.

  She ran a brush through her long hair and then padded downstairs in her furry slippers. As she came into the entry way, she heard the smooth voice with the familiar French accent.