“Jealous, is he?” Donahue grinned. “Well, mum’s the word. Good night, Sabrina.” With a friendly wave of his hand he strode swiftly back to the car.
With a relieved sigh, she slipped inside and closed the door, locking it automatically behind her.
Angelina Santanella looked up from the horror movie she was watching with avid fascination. “You’re later than usual, aren’t you? David’s been somewhat anxious.”
“It’s only a little after eleven,” Sabrina answered, coming forward to perch on the arm of the heather tweed couch. “Where is he?”
“In the kitchen making himself a cup of hot chocolate,” Angelina said, leaning forward to turn down the volume on the set. “I brought up a plate of coconut macaroons and they’re practically all gone.” She smiled broadly. “That boy surely does like his sweets.”
“You spoil him, Angelina,” Sabrina said, shaking her head reprovingly at the motherly-looking woman. The Santanellas occupied the apartment downstairs and their generosity was ample and openhearted. “He’s come to expect something from you every time you walk through the front door.”
“I spoil him? That’s the pot calling the kettle black. He washed his hair tonight and had me braid it for him in that heathen-looking pigtail he’s so fond of.” She frowned. “You know, you should make him cut his hair, Sabrina.”
“He likes it,” Sabrina said simply, “and it’s no real bother.”
The older woman shook her head, her face gentle. “Nothing’s a bother for you where that boy’s concerned, is it? You’ve practically arranged your entire life around him.”
“I love him,” she said quietly. “He’s closer than a real brother could ever be to me. And now he’s my child as well.”
“He does have parents of his own,” Angelina reminded her, her dark eyes grave. “It’s not right that you should have to shoulder the entire responsibility. It’s too much, Sabrina.”
“No it’s not. You can’t put limits on how much you give when you really care about someone. Jess and Sue do all they can. I’m the logical one to take care of David. He has to be near the drug rehabilitation center, and how could Jess and Sue possibly leave the ranch? It’s not only their livelihood, it’s where their roots are.”
“They could help out financially a little more,” Angelina persisted stubbornly. “You could get a safe, respectable job if you didn’t have to worry about money all the time.”
Respectable! It was the second time tonight she’d heard that word and she wasn’t up to defending her job again at the moment. “His parents send what they can. The drought last year almost ruined them and they’re just starting to recover. Besides it’s I who owe them,” Sabrina said simply. “They took me into their home without a second thought after my parents were killed. Jess and Sue owned the next property and David and I grew up like brother and sister. They certainly had no obligation to do all that for me!” She smiled cheerfully. “Besides, we get along very well. I make fairly good money at Noveltygrams and what David makes working for your husband pays his doctor bills.”
“I know what Gino pays that boy and it’s not enough to make a dent in that fancy psychiatrist’s bill you get every month,” Angelina said shrewdly. “You may be fooling the boy that he’s helping out, but I keep the books.” She sighed. “We’d like to pay David more but we just can’t afford it. Maybe next year when the business is on its feet. David’s worth three times what we’re paying him. Gino says the boy has a green thumb.”
Sabrina was well aware that Gino’s Landscape Company was a fledgling enterprise. She was just grateful that Gino had found a place for David; it scarcely mattered that they could afford to pay him only a pittance. David genuinely loved working outside with his plants and flowers.
“How can we expect more from you and Gino?” she asked affectionately. “You’ve not only made a place for David in the company, but you’re always cooking some delicacy for him. You even stay with him in the evening when I have to go out.”
“He’s no trouble,” Angelina said gruffly. “He’s such a good boy.” There was a suspicious brightness in the liquid darkness of her eyes as she said hesitantly, “It’s been so long. Is David ever going to be entirely well?”
“The doctors don’t really know,” Sabrina said huskily. “They don’t have enough knowledge about the effect of so-called mind-expansion drugs on the brain to really tell. He’s come so far that I’m almost afraid to hope for more.” She shivered. “When the ambulance took him to the hospital from the dorm that night, he was almost a vegetable.” She stood up, and tried to smile brightly. “Well, you tell that ‘good boy’ when he finishes gobbling his cookies, that I’m in the shower, will you?” She shrugged off her cape and folded it over her arm. “Are you going to finish your movie before you leave?”
Angelina nodded as she leaned forward to turn up the volume on the set. “I think I will,” she said, her expression already absorbed. “You know, I believe Dracula must really have been Italian. No one from Transylvania could be that sexy.”
Twenty minutes later, Sabrina was showered, dressed in her faded green and white striped pajamas, and had slipped between the sheets of her twin bed. It had been a mad, bizarre evening and she felt totally drained.
How stupid to let the thought of Alex Ben Raschid upset her so. She had enough problems and responsibilities in her life without worrying about some wealthy playboy’s arrogant threats. It was a matter of simple chemistry that had caused those violent reactions to zing between them. What else could it be? She was a young, healthy female with all the usual reactions to a man of Ben Raschid’s potent appeal. As far as his own rather excessive attraction was concerned, it was probably the result of the unusual circumstances of their first meeting. According to the columns he was seldom without a woman in his bed, and it was obvious he wasn’t used to resistance on the part of the opposite sex. Another pretty face was bound to come along at any moment and she’d be forgotten. Worrying about the man was ridiculous!
“Bree, can I sleep with you tonight?”
She looked up with a weary sigh, which she quickly smothered when she saw David’s wistful expression as he stood hesitantly in the doorway. He was so beautiful in that navy Houston Astro T-shirt, she thought tenderly. His sapphire eyes were brilliant against his glowingly healthy tan, and the shining, white blond of his sun-streaked hair, pulled back in the shoulder-length braid Angelina abhorred, only enhanced his strong, classical bone structure.
“Did you watch that horror movie with Angelina?” Sabrina asked, trying to frown. “You know Dr. Swanson told you to stay away from that sort of thing.”
He shook his head, a trace of indignation on his face. “I was reading some of Gino’s horticulture magazines all evening.” He smiled coaxingly. “I’m just lonely. You’ve been gone all evening, Bree.”
She held out for a full two minutes before she melted as she usually did. “All right. Get on your pajamas and brush your teeth.” She frowned. “But no talking to the wee hours. You have to get up early and go out on that job in Baytown tomorrow.”
He was already turning away. “I won’t,” he promised eagerly. “I’ll go get Miranda.”
Which one was Miranda, Sabrina wondered in amusement, as she plumped up the pillow and propped herself up in bed.
Miranda proved to be an extremely wilted-looking daffodil in a natural clay pot. David put the plant carefully on the bedside table between the twin beds and sat down on the other bed with a contented smile. As usual he’d put on the bottoms of the blue cotton pajamas but his bronze, muscular chest with its golden mat of hair was bare. A child in a man’s body.
“You don’t mind if I leave a light on, do you?” he asked, his worried gaze on the daffodil. “Miranda needs all the light and sunshine we can give her.”
And so did he, Sabrina thought, her throat suddenly tight and aching. During those first months when he’d started coming back from a near catatonic state, he’d been plagued by hideous nightmares
which had almost ripped him apart. Even now he never slept without at least a night-light burning. But she wouldn’t think about that. It was over now, and David was so much better.
“Are you going to be able to save her?” she asked gently.
“I think so,” David said. “She’s responding more every day. All she needs is to know that someone cares what happens to her.” His face was grave. “We do care, Miranda,” he told the plant earnestly.
“Get into bed and cover up,” Sabrina said over the lump in her throat. “Miranda knows you care.”
He obediently slipped between the sheets but turned to face her, his deep blue eyes sparkling and wide-awake as ever. There was an almost bell-like radiance about him now, Sabrina thought. It was difficult to believe that he was a year older than she. The mind-expansion drugs, that had robbed him of so much, seemed to have stopped time for him, giving him a childlike simplicity and inner beauty that was poignantly touching.
His gaze was once more on his Miranda. “I think she does know we care now,” he said contentedly. Then a tiny frown creased his forehead. “Flowers are so much easier than people, Bree.”
“Are they, love?” Sabrina asked.
He nodded. “You can tell when someone is closing up and dying inside just by looking at them, but they won’t let you help them. They won’t let you near enough to tell them that you care.” He bit his lip. “Or maybe I just don’t know how. Did I know how before, Bree?” Lately he’d become aware of that time before, but he seemed to regard it almost as another incarnation.
Sabrina shook her head. “You were always too preoccupied to notice before,” she answered.
His glance was startled. “But how could I miss it?” he asked incredulously. “It’s right there.”
“In many ways you see much more clearly now, David.”
He shook his head wonderingly as his glance returned once more to his daffodil. There was a moment of silence and when David spoke again his voice was soft. “Bree, do you remember the movie E.T.?”
How could she help it, Sabrina thought ruefully. It was David’s favorite movie and she had sat through it with him innumerable times. Something about that mythical tale of love and magic had struck an answering chord in the child that he was now.
“Yes, I remember.”
“I was thinking,” he said dreamily. “Do you remember when E.T. touched those flowers and they blossomed and came to life? Wasn’t that beautiful?”
“Yes, very beautiful.”
His hand reached out and caressed one of Miranda’s golden petals with a tender finger. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could just reach out to each other like that. Just one touch and we’d all bloom and unfold our petals in the sun. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
“So wonderful,” Sabrina murmured, blinking back tears.
He was still looking at the daffodil, his face absorbed. “Of course, it wouldn’t be necessary all the time,” he said gravely. “Some people blossom naturally all by themselves.” His thoughtful gaze moved to Sabrina’s face. “You did, Bree. You’re like a poinsettia, all brilliant color and soft velvet petals.” He smiled gently. “You’re like velvet on the inside too. Sometimes I can feel that softness wrapping around me, keeping me safe and warm.” He said simply, “It’s nice, Bree.”
Sabrina cleared her throat, smiling mistily. “I’m not sure I like you comparing me to such a fragile flower,” she said lightly. “They seem to live such a short time.”
David frowned. “They’re quite strong, really,” he said earnestly. “They go dormant, you know. They gather strength from the darkness and soon they bloom again.”
Strength from the darkness. Yes, she’d discovered in these last two years that she had strength and determination to tap. Pray God, though, that darkness never returned.
“Well, I’m glad you recognize that I have a little stamina,” she said briskly. “Now, what did you promise me about going to sleep right away?”
She scooted down in the bed, plumped her pillow, and closed her eyes decisively. She heard David’s disappointed sigh and the sounds of him settling down in his own bed. She could hear his light breathing and the restless thrashing as he moved about. Then there was another long silence and she dared a surreptitious peek at him.
He was still wide-awake, his bright blue eyes intent once more on his yellow daffodil. As she watched, his finger reached out again to stroke Miranda’s golden petals with loving delicacy. His soft murmur was a mere breath but it was enough to bring the tears to Sabrina’s eyes.
“Wonderful.”
THREE
SABRINA FELL TO her knees in the obeisance that signaled the end of her performance and looked up at her red-faced client with a cheerful grin. “Congratulations on your promotion, Mr. Selkirk. I’m sure you’ll make a fine vice president.”
There was a burst of good-natured laughter from the men at the table as well as scattered applause from the other luncheon patrons of the popular French restaurant. The flustered executive muttered something under his breath that might have been an acknowledgment, but he was too busy handling the jests from his business associates to really comprehend her words.
It was no more than she expected and she rose lightly to her feet and turned away with a friendly wave of her hand. She walked quickly to where Hector Ramirez was waiting at a table by the door. He picked up the portable tape recorder and handed her white velvet cloak to her. “I’ll keep a careful watch on this tape, Sabrina, since it’s the backup one. Never known you to leave your tape.” When she glowered, he said quickly, “It went off pretty well, didn’t it? The waiters were fairly cooperative this time. I didn’t have to glower threateningly at more than two of them to keep them out of your way while you were performing.”
It seldom took more than that ferocious scowl from a man of Hector’s bulk to intimidate even the most confident individual. Which was the primary reason Joel had assigned the college student to accompany Sabrina on her jobs. In the gaudy red turban and white, flowing robe he resembled a picturesque harem guard.
“Can I drop you back at the office to pick up your motorcycle?” Sabrina offered, as she put on her ballet slippers.
Hector shook his head. “I’ve got a term paper to finish. I’ll hop a bus to the library, and then hitch a ride with one of my fraternity brothers later and pick it up.” He put his big hand solicitously under her elbow as they walked briskly from the restaurant to the parking lot. “As soon as I see you safely to that heap you call a car.”
“My Volkswagen’s a good deal safer than that cycle of yours,” she said dryly. “At least it has four metal walls around it.”
“You have no spirit of adventure,” Hector scoffed. “You haven’t lived until you—” He broke off suddenly with a low, admiring whistle. “Speaking of adventure, will you get a load of that Lamborghini? Driving one of those babies is what I’d call the ultimate experience.”
These men and their passion for machinery, Sabrina thought with amusement. First the taxi driver last night and now Hector. She cast a casual glance in the direction he was indicating and suddenly all amusement was wiped from her face.
Alex Ben Raschid, in dark jeans and a black sport shirt, straightened slowly from the fender of the white Lamborghini, looking as supple and dangerous as a panther. The slanting rays of the afternoon sun touched his head, and his dark hair shone with peltlike luster.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said curtly, opening the passenger door. “Get in.”
“I beg your pardon,” Sabrina said blankly. She’d felt a trifle bemused from the surprise of seeing him, but this command immediately caused her to bristle.
“I said, get in,” he repeated, his expression grim. “Unless you want me to give everyone in the parking lot an even better show than the one you gave for those lecherous bastards inside.”
Ramirez tensed, his eyes narrowed on Ben Raschid’s stormy face. “You know this guy, Sabrina?”
“Slightly.” Sabrina s
hrugged. “We met last night at the party in River Oaks. This is Alex Ben Raschid, Hector. Hector Ramirez is my co-worker, Mr. Ben Raschid.”
“I knew I should have gone with you on that gig.” Hector scowled. “This bozo give you any trouble, Sabrina?”
“You know Princess Rubinoff specified I handle the assignment by myself,” Sabrina said, her gaze on Ben Raschid’s furious expression. Something had put him in an awesomely bad temper and it was clear Hector’s aggressive protectiveness was only serving to aggravate it. “He was no problem. I handled him.”
He didn’t like that either, Sabrina thought, her lips curving in slightly malicious amusement. Well, what could he expect when he was acting as if she were some little slave girl panting to amuse the great man.
“Get in the car, Sabrina,” he said softly, and there was menace beneath the velvet. “Let’s see how you manage to handle me today.”
“She doesn’t have to go anywhere with you,” Ramirez said, his jaw jutting out belligerently. “Now, why don’t you just buzz off, buster.”
“Oh, she has to go with me all right,” Ben Raschid said quietly. “That is, if she wants you to stay in one piece. It may be the only thing that will save you. At the moment I’m not even sure about that.”
Sabrina started to smile at this outrageous threat but her amusement faltered and then faded entirely as her eyes met those of Ben Raschid. This was no playboy’s idle boast. There was something coolly competent and extremely lethal about the man. She moved toward the open door of the Lamborghini almost involuntarily.
“It’s not worth arguing about. Mr. Ben Raschid will take me home, Hector, and I’ll pick up my car later. Will you call Angelina for me and ask her to look in on David if I’m a little late?”
Hector frowned. “You’re sure, Sabrina?”
“I’m sure,” she said, giving him a reassuring smile as she got in the sports car. “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.” She cast Ben Raschid a poisonous glance. “The gentleman isn’t quite the uncivilized savage he appears.”
The Trustworthy Redhead Page 3
