by Cassidy Coal
At twenty-six her mom had been on her own with four kids under the age of eight, and she'd taught Sarah early that the only person she could truly count on was herself. Others came and went, willingly or not.
She shook her head. "You're right, Mr. Horowitz. I'm sorry. I've…there's no excuse. I'll do better." She stood to leave and paused. She didn't want to ask, but she knew she had to. "Is there anything you need me to take care of this weekend? Or should I just hit the ground running on Monday?"
There was a long pause as the question hung between them. He had to know she had plans. He had to.
But what did he care if she had plans? He needed workers whose first priority was their jobs.
Horowitz sucked on his teeth as he thought about it. Finally, when Sarah was about to burst from the tension of waiting, he shook his head. "No. Take the weekend. Do what you need to get your head on straight and I'll see you on Monday. And, Sarah?"
"Yes?"
"I don't want to have this conversation again."
She smiled at him. "That makes two of us, sir."
She practically ran out of the building. She'd spend this weekend with Tyler—a weekend of crepes smothered in Nutella while sitting in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower and strolling hand-in-hand along the Champs-Élysées—and then she'd get her act together.
Her work had to be her priority.
It had to.
But the next morning when the jet landed in Paris and she stepped into the doorway to see Tyler Corrigan waiting for her, every thought of work and being an independent woman who cared for herself flew away.
He was truly breathtaking. Six-two, jet black hair, emerald-green eyes that could cut glass, a dimple in his chin when he smiled, and perfect white teeth; dressed in a casual weekend suit of dark navy with a pale blue dress shirt underneath, the top two buttons unbuttoned.
Tyler Corrigan was every GQ ad she'd ever lusted after rolled into one.
She tried not to think about the fact that his suit, including golden cuff-links, probably cost more than her mom's trailer.
It didn't matter. So what if they were from completely opposite sides of the financial spectrum? What mattered is how they felt about each other.
She loved him and he loved her and that was enough. This was the man who made her body vibrate at the mere memory of his touch. The man who told her she was perfect just the way she was like some silly line from a Bridget Jones movie and meant it.
She raced down the stairs barefoot—she'd almost killed herself the last time she tried to walk down those steps in four-inch heels, and tennies just seemed too casual for the sexy dark purple dress she'd thrown on just before they landed—and flung herself into his arms.
He lifted her into the air, spinning her around as they laughed.
"I have missed you so much, my Rubenesque beauty." He lowered her to the ground and kissed her, his mouth hot and warm.
She grasped the back of his neck and pulled him closer, saying with her mouth and body what she couldn't say in words—that she needed and wanted him more than anything she'd ever needed or wanted before. More than water or food or…
Her job.
She reluctantly pulled away and he stumbled after her, a shocked expression on his face. "What? What's wrong?"
She shook her head. "Nothing. I just…Nothing."
She stepped back into his embrace and lost herself in his kiss, forgetting everything in the world except how amazing it felt to have his perfect body pressed against hers.
He'd booked them into the same room they'd stayed in that first time they came to Paris and ended up spending the most magical Christmas together.
It had all been so unexpected. A last-minute business trip with Tyler offering her a seat on his private jet and then a few too many shots of whiskey and some wine and she'd let him seduce her after years of resisting his charms.
What followed had been the best two weeks ever. Sure, she'd had to spend every day poring over financial records trying to figure out what the hell that executive had done. But each night she'd come back to Tyler and lost herself in his kisses and caresses.
They'd had their ups and downs since then, of course. Fiona Jones trying to get between them and Tyler's suggestion that Sarah just quit her job and trail along after him like some sort of pet on a leash. But they'd worked through them and come back together stronger than ever.
Nothing could tear them apart. Nothing.
Sarah gazed out the window at the stone buildings nestled side by side along the twisty street in front of the hotel. She loved the little cafes with wrought-iron tables out front, locals sipping their strong coffees and making dry, witty observations about the tourists as they took long drags on their cigarettes.
Paris was so charming; she loved it.
She turned around to see Tyler standing in the middle of the room, watching her intently. He held out a long blue velvet case. Sarah froze, staring at the box in his hands.
"What's that?"
"A gift." He studied her carefully. "Don't tell me I'm not allowed to give you a gift for our three-month anniversary."
She shook her head. "Three months?"
"Our first time together was December 23rd. And now it's March 23rd."
She wrinkled her nose. "Well, it's not like we were actually together that whole time. I mean, there were about, what? Five weeks? When we weren't together. Those don't count. Do they?"
Tyler crossed his arms and studied her. "So you don't want it?"
Of course she wanted it. Who didn't want the man they loved to give them expensive jewelry? Because what else would be in a blue velvet box like that when your boyfriend was richer than God?
Except, she didn't want it. She didn't want that burden. That reminder of how very different they were. Could she really keep whatever was in that box knowing that her brother had just lost his construction job and wasn't going to be able to feed his kids next month?
"It's…it's a wonderful gesture, Tyler." She scratched her eyebrow.
"But?"
"But…it's just…it's a bit sudden isn't it? I mean, we're just finding out what we have here and something like that…"
He glared at her. "We're just finding out what we have here?"
"Yeah."
He nodded slowly. "I see…"
He turned away and set the box on the table, his shoulders tense. Sarah walked up behind him and rested her forehead against the space between his shoulder blades, inhaling the clean, crisp scent of him.
He always smelled like he'd just stepped out of a shower. As if he didn't sweat like normal men.
Oh, he did. She'd seen it when they were together—his skin glistening with sweat as he moved above her. But somehow he seemed removed from the normal cares and experiences of everyone else.
It was equal parts incredibly sexy and intimidating as hell.
Not at all like her brothers who were always sweaty or dirty. Or some of the men she'd met in the trailer park who were…beyond that. Like the dirt had made its way into the pores of their skin and would never wash away no matter what they did.
But Tyler. Tyler was pure. Untouched. Above it all.
Unlike her.
She ran her hands down his arms. "Please don't be mad at me. I'm only here for two days. Let's not waste the time fighting."
He turned and stared down at her, his jaw clenching and unclenching. "I don't want to fight with you, Sarah. But what are we if we aren't serious?" He stroked her jaw with his thumb. "I love you. You understand that, don't you? I've never told any other woman that I love her, but I love you. I do."
She chewed on her lip as she met his stunningly green eyes. "And I love you, Tyler. I just…"
She looked away. She could never explain to him what it was like. She could never make him feel the uncertainty she carried around all the time. The fear and worry. She could never explain to him how hard it was to keep close to her family, to see them and love them and interact with them, when her life was slowly m
oving so far from their day-to-day reality.
She'd just flown a private jet to Paris to see her boyfriend. Even thinking the words made her cringe. How frickin' pretentious was that? Oh, I'm going to Paris for the weekend to meet my billionaire boyfriend. I'm going to take his jet and we'll stay in a penthouse suite and eat caviar and drink Dom Perignon while we roll around in 1,800-threadcount sheets.
It was the truth. But who said shit like that? So instead she was lying to everyone she knew. She'd told her mom it was a business trip, for cryin' out loud.
She was slowly being ripped apart. Half of her wanted to be with her family, to belong in their world because they were the only ones who knew and understood what her childhood had been like. But the other half of her wanted everything that Tyler offered. The jets, the jewelry, the life of ease and luxury.
She was only now starting to realize that she couldn't have both.
And starting to worry that she couldn't have either one.
Had she left her family too far behind to ever go back? And, if so, what happened if she failed to make the jump to Tyler's world?
She'd be alone.
But she couldn't tell Tyler that. He'd never get it. Oh, he might say the right words and pretend to understand, but she knew he never would, not really.
So she did the only thing she could.
She kissed him.
Sarah stood in front of the full-length mirror, naked as a jay bird except for the exquisite diamond necklace from the blue velvet case. It was an amazing piece of jewelry—one hundred and ten (she'd counted) small diamonds nestled at the base of her throat. The diamonds shimmered, demanding attention in a subtle, sophisticated kind of way.
If she wore this necklace in public, every person she met would notice, it was that exceptional.
And Tyler had bought it for her.
Her. The girl who hadn't even owned a piece of jewelry until her high school graduation.
She hadn't opened the box right away. Three weeks was a long time to be away from the man you loved and lusted for and they'd spent almost the entire day in bed, tasting and touching and exploring. Only later, as they lay side by side, exhausted, their skin sheened with the sweat of their lovemaking had he once more offered her the box.
She'd squealed like a little girl when she saw what was inside. She, tough as nails, trailer trash Sarah, had squealed like one of those idiots in the movies.
But it seemed the only possible reaction to such an overwhelmingly gorgeous gift.
And then they'd made love again. And again.
She was exhausted this morning, her limbs rubbery, her body bruised in places she hadn't even noticed she'd hurt the night before.
But she was happy.
Too happy. Dangerously happy.
Tyler threw open the curtains and came to stand behind her as the sun rose over Paris, his naked body pressed against hers.
She wanted to turn away as their eyes met in the mirror.
She loved her curves, she did. She'd never wanted to be some stick-figure without hips or boobs. But standing in front of a mirror with the perfectly-sculpted man she loved behind her, she noted every single imperfection. The belly that was just a little more than a belly should be. The thighs that pressed together, the flesh dimpled with cellulite. The boobs that sagged slightly, pulled down by their own weight.
"Stop." Tyler kissed her neck, just below her earlobe, sending a shiver along her spine.
"Stop what?"
"Stop thinking you are anything less than magnificent."
She turned in his arms and gazed into his eyes. "I'm comfortable with myself, you know that. But…I'd rather you saw me naked when we were in the midst of…you know. Less time to notice the flaws."
"Is that so?" He pulled her body against his, his hand resting against her lower back, his erection throbbing against her thigh.
"It is." She stretched, arching her body against his, luxuriating in the feel of skin on skin.
"Well then. It seems to me that maybe I need to show you just how much I love that beautiful, amazing body of yours. Every…" He kissed her collarbone. "Single…" He kissed the base of her neck. "Inch…" He kissed the spot where her jaw met her neck. "Of it."
His mouth claimed hers, demanding and urgent. She responded, matching him fire for fire as she pressed herself against him, wanting to melt into his body and never ever leave this room again.
That night as she boarded the plane to head back home, she actually smiled at the picture-perfect stewardess, Daphne, not caring one whit that the woman was flawless looking as usual. How could she envy any woman right now when she had the perfect man in her life?
And she'd get to see him in less than a week. He was staying in Paris through the next weekend so she was going to fly back and join him.
Maybe this time they'd actually leave the hotel room for an hour or two…
Or not.
Sarah dragged herself through the week, never quite recovering from the fatigue of two international flights in the space of three days. That and going straight from work on Monday to her mom's where she had to listen to the "they demand too much from you" lecture once more.
Of course, that was Sarah's fault for claiming the trip to Paris was work-related. She hadn't yet found a way to tell anyone about her and Tyler. It was just…
Too fragile to share.
As real as what they had was, she fully expected to wake up one morning and find it had all been some crazy dream, so she kept it to herself like a precious treasure and hoped it would last another day or another week before it died.
She was just about to head out of the office on Friday when Mr. Horowitz called an emergency meeting to discuss the auditor's report. Five more minutes and Sarah would've been gone—headed back to the airport to see Tyler. Instead she found herself crowded into the conference room, trying hard to stay focused but losing herself in dreams of what the weekend was going to be like.
"Sarah," Horowitz snapped.
Sarah sat up straighter. Had she been sleeping? No. No, she'd never fall asleep at work no matter how hot the conference room was or how tired she was.
"Yes, Mr. Horowitz?"
"I asked if you could please explain to the auditors the changes we made to the period one to period two waterfall calculation for the ALLL. It was your idea after all."
"Of course. Yes."
Sarah spent the next hour buried in the minutiae of loan allowances, wishing she was anywhere else. But it had to be done. If the auditors weren't comfortable with the changes they'd have to roll them back and start over from scratch and no one wanted that.
Especially not Sarah. Because it would almost certainly mean the entire weekend spent in the office.
She somehow managed to explain herself to the auditors' satisfaction and stay awake through another forty-five minutes of discussion about three new notes they wanted added to the financial statements.
Honestly, why had she chosen this career?
(Because it was steady and stable and had the potential to pay well. And she was good with numbers.)
It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but she kind of wished there was a way to be paid to travel the world and stay in expensive hotels instead.
Tyler had offered her a monthly stipend if she wanted to quit her job and travel with him…
Fortunately, before she could take that thought any further, the meeting ended. It was 6:45. Two hours later than she'd planned on leaving.
"Good work in there, Sarah." Mr. Horowitz patted her on the back as they walked down the hall next to one another.
"Thank you, sir."
As she raced to her desk and grabbed her overnight bag she marveled at the fact that just three months ago she would've been on cloud nine hearing Mr. Horowitz say something like that.
Now all she cared about was getting to Paris as soon as she could.
"Ready to see the sights?" Tyler asked once they reached their hotel room. He'd switched rooms to the pen
thouse suite of some old classic hotel with a view of the Eiffel Tower framed by the balcony window. It was like a postcard. Picture-perfect.
Sarah laughed at herself. When had she become the girl who thought everything was perfect? She turned to watch Tyler casually strip off his shirt.
"Don't," she said.
He paused, a new t-shirt in his hands. "Don't what?"
"Don't put that on. I just want to admire you for a moment."
He laughed. "Admire me? Am I a work of art to be admired from afar?"
She shook her head, her lips curling in a smile as she slowly walked towards him. "Oh no. Not at all. You are meant to be touched and explored and devoured."
She ran her hand down the line on his six-pack abs, marveling once more that he managed to stay so fit with all the traveling he did. She wouldn't be surprised to know he had a personal trainer on speed-dial in every city.
Well, the trainer could have the weekend off, because she was about to put Mr. Tyler Corrigan through a hefty workout.
He watched her with that wicked half-grin of his she loved so much, his eyes shining with humor.
"We're not going to make it out of the hotel again, are we?"
She shrugged. "Maybe for dinner. We'll need to refuel at some point."
She grabbed the waistband of his pants and pulled him closer, running her other hand along his firm bicep. She followed the hand with her mouth, kissing her way down his arm to his hand, running a firm tongue along his smooth skin.
She inhaled the scent of his skin, so clean, so crisp.
When she reached his hand she held his eyes with hers as she slowly traced circles along his palm and took each finger into her mouth, sucking and licking. He watched, the tension in his body building, but didn't reach for her, letting her set the pace, letting her tease and taste until he was almost quivering with anticipation.
She placed one last kiss on his palm and dropped his hand, turning away. "Ready to go?"
"What?"
She laughed as she glanced back at him. "Oh, did you want something more than that, Mr. Corrigan?"
