Aim For Love

by Pamela Aares

  He heard a familiar laugh and turned to the door of the café. Alex and Scotty entered, saw him and headed for the booth.

  His grandmother took his hands, drawing his attention back to her. “It’s time you use all these talents and powers to aim for love, Kazi.”

  Aim for love.

  Her words rocketed through him as he introduced her to his curious teammates. They congratulated him on making the team. But his mind wasn’t on baseball. In his mind he was already halfway to LA.

  Halfway to Sabrina.

  Damn, why had he let her go? And why hadn’t he pursued her when she drove away?

  She couldn’t know that he was trying to do the right thing. She couldn’t know he’d shut down his emotions, his heart, when she left. Shut them down so he wouldn’t feel the ache of her absence.

  Because he’d never said anything, never fought for her, she couldn’t know that he would fight for her, that he’d fight for their love. Hell, how would she know? He’d given up because he’d decided what would be best, what was possible, what would be better for her, easier for her. He hadn’t talked with her, hadn’t even hinted at the depth of his feelings. Obaa-chan was right—he’d hidden behind an ill-made vow. And he’d let fear and shame win. He hadn’t given love any chance at all.

  He hadn’t done the right thing. He’d simply given up, something he’d never done. He wasn’t a quitter.

  And he didn’t want easy, he wanted Sabrina. He’d never wanted easy. He wanted the valuable. The enduring. The stuff you had to work at.

  The stuff worth working for.

  Like heirloom peaches and Major League baseball and a woman who looked into his soul as though she never intended to turn away.

  He tipped his head up to see his grandmother charming his friends. Watched as Alex had her blushing delicately behind her fingers and Scotty had her laughing out loud.

  He had two days before he pitched again.

  The manager might fine him for leaving Scottsdale—hell, he might cut him from the team. And he’d have to ask Alex for a favor. Another favor.

  But those were minor concerns, and he was playing in the majors now.

  He would aim for love.

  Now that he knew his true target, he was pretty confident he could hit it. The question was, what would happen when he did?

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Kaz’s thoughts ran wild as he turned onto the freeway, hammering him with lancing feelings he struggled to rein in. Knowing he’d made wrong choices had him off balance, and every little issue surrounding his relationship with Sabrina took on an insistent significance.

  Derrick Ainsley was a not-so-little issue, and all Kaz could think about as he drove was that Ainsley was with Sabrina for hours every day while he wasn’t.

  Ainsley got to touch her and laugh with her. Got to joke with her and tell her how beautiful she was. Got to simply sit with her and enjoy her peace.

  Kaz hated him for it. Would have anyway, even if he hadn’t seen how much a drain the man was on Sabrina.

  Jealousy was an unfamiliar emotion. It ran in him like poisonous bile, and no amount of mental focus damped it. That he was jealous of a man like Derrick Ainsley shocked him. But far worse than the riddling jealousy was the fear that had nagged him since the night at the art gallery. Ainsley was the most dangerous of enemies. He didn’t attack in the open, overtly. Instead he played on fear and doubt, using their power to fuel his agendas. And his agenda would always put him first, never a co-star, no matter how much he professed to like them. Sabrina’s doubts and insecurities might drive her to play right into the man’s schemes. She was too trusting. She might be coming to know the power that lurked in shadow and darkness, might be learning to recognize and integrate such power into her life, but her nature was to trust. It was one of the many traits that Kaz loved about her.

  And Ainsley wasn’t an obvious monster, not like the man who’d attacked her. Ainsley was slow poison, one that destroyed over time. Or a creeping vine that choked the life out of its host.

  Pure and simple, he was a user who sucked the life from others and cast them aside when they had nothing more to offer him.

  He stepped on the gas, pushing the Jeep to the max. Ainsley wanted Sabrina for his own purposes. Hell, so did Kaz. But he’d done some damned clear soul searching. He would offer her his heart. No pressure. He’d calmly lay out his feelings; any choice was up to her. He only hoped he wasn’t too late. And he didn’t want to think about what he’d do if she shut him out.

  He drove to LA in less than six hours, stopping only once to gas up the Jeep. At a quarter after one, he booked a room at the Beverly Hills Hotel, showered and then drove to the address Alex had given him.

  He pulled up in front of a nondescript warehouse that covered two city blocks and double-checked the address. He’d been expecting gates, security, a high-tech building with a manicured lawn. The only indication that it might house a film set were the four RVs parked along the road in front.

  There were three doors, all unmarked. He chose the one at the north end of the building and tried the handle. Locked. He rang the bell. It made no sound that he could hear. He was just about to knock when a voice buzzed out of the speaker next to him.

  “Deliveries at the south entrance.”

  “I’m here to see Sabrina Tavonesi.” He peered up at the security camera.

  “You and half the world," the voice said. “Sorry.”

  He heard a muffled conversation in the background before the voice added, “You Kaz Tokugawa?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I saw the exhibition game two days ago on the MLB Network. Awesome pitching, man. Like you could read their minds.”

  The door buzzed open.

  “Dan Silver,” said a short man with thick glasses, holding out his hand. “Giants fan since birth. This is Terry.” He tilted his head toward a man who stood beside him. “He’s a Dodger fan.”

  Dan crossed two fingers at the other man, making a banishing sign.

  Terry laughed. “We’ll beat your asses. We have better bats this year. No contest.”

  Dan eyed Kaz. “You really here to see Sabrina?”

  “Yeah.”

  Dan smirked at Terry. “Maybe not a great day for that. The shoot got delayed four hours. But I can let you wait on the edge of the set. You’ll have to be quiet till they break. It’ll cost you an autograph.” Dan fished around in his pocket. “Terry, you got a pen, man?”

  Terry shook his head.

  “I’ll send you a signed card,” Kaz said, feeling like he’d fallen into some modern-day Lewis Carroll tea party. “Give me your address later.”

  “Cool. Go over there. And like I said, quiet.”

  Kaz walked to the edge of the area where bright lights were aimed into the center of a cavernous space. As he moved closer he saw the set elements, the fake walls propped with sandbags and two-by-fours and the columns of lights. Bordello, he thought when he saw the red-flocked walls and lush Persian carpet.

  And then he saw the bed.

  Sabrina lay across it, her back to him. Her skin was pale, almost white in the simulated candlelight. And there was a lot of skin to notice. Her hair was red and flowed down her shoulders, over the edge of the bed and to the floor. Derrick was raised on his elbows, poised over her scantily clad body.

  “You’ll find that doing my bidding will save you,” Derrick said in a hypnotic tone.

  Kaz fought the urge to deck the smarmy actor; he wasn’t there to interrupt Sabrina’s work. But it was no mystery why she’d had nightmares. Everything about the scene set him on edge too.

  Kaz fought for composure as Derrick circled Sabrina’s wrists and pinned first one of her arms and then the other to the bed.

  They called it acting, but in what other profession could an unscrupulous man so openly harass a woman?

  Kaz looked away. Then looked down. His right hand was clenched into a fist. He deliberately relaxed it.

  “What I offer is a p
ower you could never command on your own.”

  At Sabrina’s gasp, his head snapped up and his gaze again zeroed in on the bed.

  Derrick released one hand and stroked his fingers down Sabrina’s arm and to the curve of her breast. He smiled and leaned toward her, fangs threatening.

  Images of the morning he’d rescued Stacy stabbed lightning fast through Kaz.

  Danger, his mind screamed. Fire burst in his head, hot, white and burning. He fought to clear it, but heat poured through him, flaming stronger as Derrick dipped down toward Sabrina’s bare neck. She turned her head, struggling to evade him.

  “You are mine,” Derrick murmured as he touched his mouth to Sabrina’s skin.

  Sabrina opened her mouth, but Kaz couldn’t hear her words through the blood pounding in his ears. Then he saw the raw fear in her eyes.

  “No!” he roared as he charged to the bed. He grabbed Derrick by the collar and yanked him away from Sabrina. Pain registered when Derrick hit his jaw. Kaz threw a punch of his own and then a second when Derrick didn’t back away.

  “Not the face, you ass!”

  Derrick lifted one hand toward his jaw and extended the other toward Sabrina. No way was Kaz going to let him appeal to Sabrina. To touch Sabrina. He grabbed Derrick’s hand and twisted, barely catching himself in time to keep from breaking his wrist. Disgusted, he threw Derrick off the bed and then pulled Sabrina into his arms.

  “Cut!” A woman’s voice called out from the darkness. “Cut, cut, cut.”

  Applause and laughter rang out from voices and people Kaz couldn’t see.

  He hugged Sabrina to his chest and ignored everything but her. “It’s okay,” he said, rocking her. Stroking her hair.

  His heart beat fast, too fast.

  Sabrina wriggled away from him. “For God’s sake, Kaz, what the hell are you doing?”

  “My sentiments precisely,” Derrick said as he stood, rubbing his jaw. “What the hell are you doing on the set?”

  Sabrina slid to the edge of the bed, her waist-length hair tangled in Kaz’s fingers. “How’d you even get in here?”

  Embarrassment flooded into the hot tangle of nerves firing Kaz’s body. What was he doing?

  “That was a near-perfect take,” Derrick said as he dropped to the bed and pulled the false fangs from his mouth. “Until this maniac showed up.” He eyed Kaz. “I thought they locked you up for murder.”

  “Not yet,” Kaz said. “But they still may get the chance.”

  Derrick scooted, crablike, to the far side of the bed.

  “Take ten,” a short brunette shouted as she walked toward them. She put her hands to her hips and locked eyes with Kaz. “Too bad that scene wasn’t in the script; I rather liked it.” Her gaze slid to Sabrina and back to Kaz. “But this story has no room for righteous samurai warriors. Hell”—she waved into the darkness beyond the set and raised her voice—“take a late lunch, all of you. I’ll see everybody back here at three.” She shot a last look at Sabrina, shook her head and walked out of sight.

  Sabrina untangled her hair from Kaz’s fingers and jammed her hands to her hips.

  “I was hoping, praying, that that would be the last take of that god-awful scene,” she said.

  Kaz heard anger in her tone. And under the anger an air of what he hoped wasn’t derision.

  “We can talk over there.” She pointed to a grouping of chairs in a corner. “Could we have a couple of waters?” she said to no one he could see.

  “Right away, Miss Tavonesi,” a woman’s voice answered from out of the darkness.

  She looked back at the still-lit bed. “And stay out of this, Derrick.”

  Derrick opened his mouth, but Sabrina slashed both hands in the air.

  “It’s no concern of yours,” she said. “It never has been.”

  Kaz heard the strength and conviction in her voice. Sabrina had changed. Or maybe it was just his perception that had sharpened. His doubts that she could protect herself were dissolving fast. The twinge of pride he felt melded with the embarrassment crawling through him. This wasn’t in any way the afternoon he’d imagined, the calm declaration of love that he’d planned. Not even close.

  Sabrina tried to calm the deep trembling riddling her, and tried harder to ignore the buzz from the crew as she walked Kaz to the off-camera lounge area.

  “Let’s sit,” she said as she dropped into one of the chairs, not trusting her legs to support her. She’d thought she’d never see him again. And now just being near him made her shiver.

  “Let’s go outside,” Kaz said. “I can’t think in here.”

  She watched him check out her costume from head to toe.

  “That is, if you’re allowed out there dressed”—he gestured—“like that.”

  She rose slowly and kept her distance as they moved toward the door.

  “Want to tell me what possessed you to pull a stunt like this?” she said as they stepped out into the daylight.

  Kaz squinted, and Sabrina saw the pain in his eyes. She was pretty sure it wasn’t from the sun.

  She stopped under the one tree in front of the warehouse that housed the film set.

  “How’d you even know where to find me?”

  “Alex.”

  Kaz leaned back against the tree. It had been two weeks, two days and four hours since she’d last seen him. He had dark circles under his eyes, something she’d never seen in his face before.

  “Look, Sabrina, you can tell me to go.” He nodded toward the warehouse. “I’m sorry about that. The images of that man tormenting Stacy shot into me and I saw Derrick going for your jugular and… Well, I’m sorry.” He rubbed a hand across his face. “Whatever I imagined doing, I didn’t mean to disrupt your shoot.”

  The shame she saw in his eyes stabbed at her heart.

  “Derrick has that effect on all of us,” she said. “It’s his special gift. But you were saying? About Stacy?” She had to ask. Had to know.

  “I want to marry you, Sabrina.”

  Her heart stuttered in her chest. She heard the words, but they made no sense. Not after what she’d seen in Stacy’s cabin that morning.

  “What about Stacy?” It took all she had to ask again. Hope fired in her, but she wasn’t about to give it any real estate until she heard his answer.

  “Stacy?” He said the name like he’d never heard it before.

  “Stacy,” Sabrina repeated.

  “What’s Stacy got to do with anything?”

  He looked truly puzzled.

  “I thought she was the reason you pulled away, why you kept pushing me from you, why you weren’t available.”

  “Stacy?”

  Her head felt light. She dropped down into a crouch and pulled off the red wig. The odd dizziness didn’t go away. She ran her fingers along the tight braids and pins holding her hair to her scalp.

  Kaz knelt beside her.

  “You okay?”

  He was close. She smelled the lemon verbena aftershave he wore and under it, everything that was Kaz. She nodded. “I’m fine.”

  “I’ll get you that water.”

  He started to rise.

  She grabbed his wrist, closed her fingers around it. “No. If it wasn’t Stacy that made you pull away from me, then what? And don’t tell me you didn’t. I saw it. I felt it. Whatever it was, it was real. I want to know. I need to know.”

  He knelt on the ground and ran his hand up her arm, across her neck. She guessed he didn’t know what he was doing.

  But then he opened his hand against her throat, catching it in the vee between his thumb and fingers. She felt the heat of every finger on her skin. He slowly stroked the exact spot Derrick’s fangs had been aiming for.

  And Sabrina understood that he knew exactly what he was doing.

  “It’s a bit of a saga,” he said.

  “Does it have a happy ending?”

  “That, Sabrina, depends on you.”

  She stood up and crossed her arms. Her heart beat so furiously that
she was sure he could hear it. But this was one story she wasn’t about to cut short. “Then it’s a saga I should hear.”

  He pushed back on his heels and stood.

  He told her about Stacy, how they’d been infatuated with one another in high school, about her run-ins with drugs and rehab, about how he tried to help until her father sent her away.

  “I saw Stacy for the first time in five years the night you and I went to Hallie’s Place. Before she was sent away, she’d made a deal with her family not to communicate with any of us back home. A deal she kept. I admire her for that. But I knew when I saw her that night that although I no longer loved her—not the way I’d thought I had—I also knew we were still friends. The kind of friends that have each other’s backs. The kind of friendship that time doesn’t touch.”

  Sabrina was aware that he was watching her face closely, as if reading the condition of her heart. His jaw twitched, and she felt a perverse satisfaction that he was as on edge as she was.

  “She came over the morning after we made love, the morning you left, to tell me that she wanted me to be proud of her. That she wanted to show me that she’d learned from me. I didn’t know she was planning something as rash as going after Ortega herself. She knew I would’ve tried to stop her.”

  Kaz took her hand in his. The warmth she felt was more than skin against skin. But she wanted the whole story and didn’t want to be distracted by the feel of him. Couldn’t be distracted. If she wasn’t careful and read more into his words than he was actually saying, he could break her heart in ways she didn’t dare to imagine.

  “If it wasn’t Stacy, then what was it that walled you off?”

  The muscles around his eyes tightened, and he winced as he slid his gaze from hers.

  “It wasn’t just the Valley and the temptation of the drugs that her family sent her away from. Stacy’s father—”

  He let go of her hand. Her heart tumbled at the pain in his eyes. She braced herself for the worst sort of news.