by Francis Ray
“You would be right.”
“Your meal.” Two servers placed their entrees along with the family-style servings of vegetables on the table, almost taking up the entire space.
Kara laughed. “I think you ordered too much.”
“If it got you to laugh, it was worth it.”
She smiled at him. “I’m glad I came.”
He picked up his glass. “A toast.” She followed suit. “To a new beginning.”
“A new beginning.” She sipped her wine. Over the rim of the glass she stared into Tristan’s green eyes, felt the heated rush, the pull, and realized he wasn’t just talking about their business arrangement. She wasn’t either. Despite his ex’s taunts, Tristan, Kara was finding, was a man worth taking a chance on.
* * *
The Myers Art Gallery off Elm Street in downtown Dallas was a modern two-story structure. Mellowed by two glasses of good wine, Kara wasn’t as intimidated as she’d thought she’d be when meeting the people inside. Tristan, remaining by her side and introducing her as his newest protégée, helped. From the gallery owner to the other guests, people wanted to know more about her. Laughing, Tristan told them they’d have to wait. They were there to enjoy the opening and the artist.
“I think you’re a hit,” Tristan said as they moved away to view an abstract by Paul Jakes, the featured artist.
“They’re going to expect a lot,” she said, gripping the handful of cards that had been thrust at her.
He turned to her, his eyes direct. “And you’ll give it to them in spades.”
Her body clenched. Her nipples tightened. Sexual attraction blindsided her. His eyes narrowed. His casual arm around her waist tightened.
“Do you like Emotions?” the artist asked proudly.
Embarrassed, Kara tucked her head. She definitely liked Tristan and the way he made her feel.
“Standing here, I certainly feel emotional,” Tristan answered, his voice a bit husky.
Kara lifted her head to see the tall, slim man in his mid-thirties with a goatee smiling at Tristan.
“It’s a steal at thirty-five hundred,” the artist went on to say.
Kara jerked her head back around to the painting, and the discreet price tag tucked in the corner. She studied the painting and though she found nothing to draw her, it had more to do with her personal taste and nothing against the man’s talent.
“I want to look around before I make a decision,” Tristan said smoothly. “Thanks for coming over. I’ll be sure and blog about the event before I go to bed tonight.”
“That would be great.” The artist stuck his hand out. “If I don’t see you anymore tonight, thanks for coming.”
“My pleasure,” Tristan said. “The world needs art and you bring your own special touch to every painting.”
The man’s grin widened. Tristan had complimented him loudly enough for those standing nearby to hear. The artist extended his hand to Kara. “I hope you’ll invite me to your opening. I’d love to see your work.”
The warmth of his smile appeared genuine. They saw things differently when they painted, they touched people differently, but differences made the world more exciting and interesting. “I’d love to.”
“Excellent.” He enfolded her hand in his. “Good night, and thanks for coming.”
“Good night and good luck,” Kara said.
“Thanks, and the same to you.” He pulled a card from the pocket of his sports coat. “Call me if you ever want to discuss art or other things.”
Kara blinked. There had been no mistaking the inflection of his voice. He’d gone from friendly to interested.
Tristan took the card. “She’ll be busy.”
Kara jerked her head around to stare at Tristan. The smile was gone.
“I might have known,” the artist said, then laughed and slapped Tristan on the back. “Don’t forget the blog.”
“I won’t.”
The man glanced at Kara one last time, then moved away. She realized as he did that he might be interested in her, but he was more interested in Tristan giving him a plug on his site.
“You ready to go?” Tristan asked.
Kara stared up at Tristan. He had acted territorial, and completely out of line. She didn’t need him running interference for her, but it was nice knowing he didn’t mind letting the artist or anyone else know she was off-limits. Still.
“Tristan—”
“I know,” he interrupted. “I was out of line and you can take care of yourself.”
He looked so disgruntled and annoyed, her lips twitched. What woman, deep down, wouldn’t be pleased having a gorgeous, successful man warning off other men? Caveman for sure, but she needed the ego boost. “I’ve picked a couple of duds in my life.”
His hand around her waist tightened. “Some men are fools.”
“So are some women,” she said, aware she was moving into dangerous territory, but unable to stop herself.
He grinned at her, making her heart thud, her blood hum through her veins. “Let’s get out of here.”
* * *
He was going to kiss her.
Kara anticipated the kiss, the warmth of his mouth, the texture of his lips, the taste of him. Kara thought about it all the way back to her house. The evening might have started out as strictly business but, wise or not, they had moved beyond that. While she wasn’t sure how far she wanted things to go, she did want to know the feel of his arms holding her, the feel of his muscular body pressed against her.
Her knees actually shook as they walked to the front door. He probably felt it since he held her arm.
“It’s all right.”
She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “What?”
He stepped in front of her and curved his other arm around her waist, then leaned over and brushed his lips gently across hers. Her hands automatically closed around his arms. “See, there’s nothing to fear. I’m not going to jump you.”
“You don’t mince words,” she managed, wanting to trace her tongue across her lips to taste him again.
“I find it easier.” Leaning over, he nibbled her ear. “You tempt me as I’ve never been tempted before.”
She wanted to purr it felt so good. The man had magic lips. “I—”
The porch light snapped on. “Kara, come inside.”
The sensual haze instantly cleared. Kara stiffened. She tried to push out of Tristan’s arms and found it impossible. “Please.”
“Only for you,” he said, finally releasing her.
Kara went up the sidewalk, past her mother standing in the door and into the house, heard the door close behind her. “Why would you embarrass me that way?” Kara asked, trembling with anger.
“I’m trying to keep you from making another mistake,” her mother said, unrepentant. “He’s just trying to get you to lower your price for the paintings.”
The paintings. Her mother had never cared about the paintings before. The only reason she did now was money.
“You don’t have good judgment with men,” her mother went on to point out. “I just don’t want to see you taken advantage of. Perhaps you should let someone else take a look at them.”
Money again. “I’m working with Tristan.”
“And you’ll get taken just like before,” her mother said. “I don’t know why you believe all the crap men tell you.”
Kara didn’t have a comeback. She’d believed her college sweetheart Ryan and loaned him money to get his car out of the shop only to find out a few days later that he’d used the money to gamble. Short of embarrassing herself further by trying to take him to small claims court, there was nothing she could do about the two thousand dollars she could ill afford to lose. He might have lied about the reason, but the money was still a loan. Then there was Burt. Another mistake.
Both men had called to try to convince her they were sorry. All the calls had done was convince her mother even more how gullible Kara was. “I’m going to bed. Good night.”
&
nbsp; “One day you’ll thank me.”
Kara kept walking. In her bedroom, she closed the door just as her cell phone rang. Picking it up, she activated the call. “Hello.”
“Are you all right?” Tristan asked.
She wrapped one arm around her waist. There was genuine concern. She refused to believe it was motivated by greed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You still coming over tomorrow night?” he asked.
“I’ll be there, but…” She swallowed, pressed her arm around her churning stomach.
“I don’t think I want to hear the rest.”
“Perhaps it’s best if we go back to business only.” She didn’t want to go through the daily fights with her mother, and that was exactly what it would entail. She wasn’t adept at hiding her emotions.
“Best for whom?”
She tucked her head. “Please.”
“Sometimes you have to fight for what you want even when the odds aren’t in your favor. See you tomorrow. Night.”
Kara stared at the phone. He wasn’t going to back off. Neither was her mother. And Kara was going to be caught in the middle.
* * *
Past midnight, racked with remorse, her eyes red and puffy from crying, Sabrina sat on the side of her bed. She’d hurt Cade. She couldn’t get the picture of his face out of her mind. There’d been anger, but there’d also been embarrassment, shame. Her eyes shut tightly. In trying to get him to open up, she’d made him relive memories of his past he obviously wanted to forget.
She wiped at the tears slowly gliding down her cheeks. Her loving parents and grandparents had helped her work through her pain and anger of what her mother had done to her. Who had been there for Cade? Her thoughtlessness had made him feel exposed, even vulnerable when all she’d wanted to do was let him know she cared.
She’d failed miserably and Cade paid the price. Curling up on the bed she let the tears flow.
Eleven
It was past two in the morning and Cade couldn’t sleep. In silk pajama bottoms, he stood on the balcony of his condo and stared out at the warm summer night. Eighteen stories up gave him a breathtaking view of the Dallas skyline. Across the way was the W Hotel, and around the corner was the American Airlines Center, where the top musicians in the world played, as well as Dallas’s basketball and hockey teams. He was living the life he’d always dreamed of and promised himself he’d have.
Yet, it wasn’t enough.
His hands tightened around the top steel railing that ran the length of the balcony. No matter how he tried to run from it, the fact remained, his mother hadn’t wanted him. If he believed the heartless bastard who raised him, his birth mother had chosen her reputation and social standing over her son.
He was a bastard no one wanted.
No matter how successful he was, how many accolades and awards he garnered, how his bank account and stock portfolio grew, that gut-wrenching fact remained. From the second he drew his first breath, he was considered a nothing.
And Sabrina knew his deepest secret.
He felt exposed. He wasn’t afraid she’d tell anyone. That wasn’t her style. Besides, the tears that glistened in her eyes were real, which angered him more. He didn’t want her pity. He wasn’t one of her patients to try and fix.
Perhaps that was what she wanted from him, to fix him. Fix the damaged, unwanted man that his colleagues revered.
Cade rubbed a hand across his face. He couldn’t let this get to him. He had to push it away as he’d always done and get on with his life. To do otherwise would be to let the man who called himself his father, and the woman who gave birth to him, win.
He’d eat glass first.
Straightening, he started back inside. The house phone rang just as he passed. He stared at it on the small glass table. The only time it had rang in the past was to ask if he was ready for his meal. The waiter had delivered his dinner hours ago. It remained on the dining table. Untouched.
He picked up the white receiver. “Yes.”
“Dr. Mathis, this is Simpson with security. There’s a Sabrina Thomas here. She refuses to leave and insists on seeing you.”
“I don’t want to see her.”
“I understand, sir. I was just checking. The security and privacy of our guests is paramount.”
“Send her away.”
“Yes, sir. Just as soon as we think she can drive safely.”
“What’s the matter with her?” Cade tensed in spite of himself.
“She’s crying. Bailey took her into the lobby to let her calm down. Don’t worry. She won’t get past us. Good night, Dr. Mathis. Sorry to disturb you.”
Cade hung up the phone, but couldn’t quite release it. She’s crying. His gut knotted. No one had ever cried for him. The wife of the man who pretended to the town he cared had tried to help him, but never when it went against her husband’s wishes. She thought of herself first. She’d certainly never shed a tear for him.
He snatched up the phone and punched in the code for security. The call was answered on the first ring.
“Yes, Dr. Mathis. Is everything all right?”
“Security just called about a woman downstairs wanting to see me. Please keep her there until I arrive, but I don’t want her to know I’m coming. Understand?”
“Understood.”
Cade replaced the receiver and went to get dressed.
* * *
“Thank you.” Sabrina sniffed, clutching the wad of tissue in her hand. “I can drive all right now.”
“We have to be sure,” the man in an expensive black suit and silk tie said. No tacky uniforms for the security team of Navarone Place. He smiled easily. “We wouldn’t want you to be hurt on the way home.”
“I promise I won’t sue,” she said, coming to her feet and taking a tentative step toward the front door. Her eyes felt like they had sand in them. No wonder, she’d cried off and on all evening and into the morning. Finally, thinking of Cade alone and with no one, she hadn’t been able to stay away.
The security guard easily matched her step for step. He’d probably heard that before. But she just wanted to go home. Cade hated her. Tears formed in her eyes, rolled down her cheeks. The soggy tissue in her hands was no help.
“Sabrina.”
Her head came up. Cade, his face unemotional, his body stiff, stood several feet away. She didn’t care. “Cade.” She ran toward him.
The nice man who had been trying to calm her was suddenly in front of her, his face no longer smiling, his eyes unblinking.
“It’s all right,” Cade said.
The man stepped aside.
Sabrina took a tentative step toward Cade. He looked untouchable. Cold. She knew he wasn’t. He’d been hurt, still hurt. She’d grown up with love. She was positive he hadn’t. Love and trust were learned responses. If she had to be the first to reach out, so be it.
“Cade.” This time she didn’t stop until she had her arms around his waist, her cheek pressed to his chest. His heart thudded in her ear. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She sniffed, but the tears just came faster. “I couldn’t sleep. Please don’t be angry with me.”
“Dr. Mathis?”
“It’s all right,” he said, one arm lifting to curve around her waist.
She swallowed. Through watery eyes, she stared up at him, blinking to try to see his face clearer. It didn’t help. She was caught between needing to release him to wipe her eyes and just holding on. One word from him and the watchful guards would take her away. “Can I please talk to you alone?”
Silence.
“Please.”
“Two minutes.” Pushing her arms away, he stepped back and started for the elevator. Sabrina followed, going over in her mind what she’d say. Neither spoke on the elevator or as they walked down the wide, beautifully decorated hall.
Stopping in front of the second door near the end of the hallway, he stepped aside for her to enter.
Sabrina quickly entered. She didn’t waste time. “I’m
sorry. I know I hurt—”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter, Cade. Don’t be mad at me.”
“Do you know what time it is?” he asked.
She didn’t understand the question, but at least he was talking to her. “I guess around two,” she said. “You probably have to get up early to see patients, but I just needed to tell you I’m sorry. I don’t want you upset with me.”
“Because we’re friends.”
She sniffed. Nodded. “And because you matter to me.” She might not get another chance. “And not because you’re a brilliant doctor and we work together.”
“I’ve never met anyone like you,” he said.
Sabrina finally felt secure enough to use the soggy tissue to wipe her eyes so she could see him clearly. His face was no longer harsh and forbidding. “Because I’m pushy?”
His thumb brushed away a lingering tear. “That would be one reason.”
The phone rang. He quickly crossed the room and picked it up. “Dr. Mathis.”
Sabrina moved closer.
“Get a CAT scan of her arm, stat. I’m on my way.” He hung up. “I have to get to the hospital. My patient might have a blood clot. Call a cab and wait here until it arrives.”
“I can dr—”
“I don’t have time to argue.” He grabbed a ring of keys from a bowl by the door, his wallet, his cell phone. Opening the door, he was gone.
Sabrina sat down on the elegant French sofa to dig her phone out of her purse. Occasionally she needed to call a cab for patients. Finding the phone, she scrolled through the numbers, but suddenly decided she might lose her chance to talk to Cade if she left.
She glanced around the penthouse. It was stylishly decorated and sterile. Everything was neatly arranged. She didn’t see one picture. Her heart went out to him again. He was alone, but not anymore. He had her. She just had to be patient and wait for him to realize it.
She kicked off her shoes and prepared to wait.
* * *
Two hours later Cade opened the door to his condo and saw Sabrina asleep on the sofa. Her hands were pillowed beneath her cheek, her shapely legs drawn up.
