by Francis Ray
“If you’d let go of my arm, I’d like to leave.”
“Don’t you dare take that tone with me, Cade Mathis. We’re friends.”
“My arm,” he repeated.
Her hand flexed, but she didn’t dare release him. She didn’t think she’d get by security at his place this time either. “All right, but you just remember you forced the issue. You don’t remember our first meeting, do you? Of course not. You were getting off the elevator, Kara and I were getting on. I thought you were hot and I told her.”
He looked stunned.
She released his arm. She wanted to tuck her head, but didn’t. “After you came here, I mentioned it to Kara. She thought that since you wanted a calm environment you didn’t date staff members. Which I understand, because neither do I,” she said, thinking that added a nice and true touch.
Puzzlement pushed away the anger in his face. “You don’t?”
“Nope.”
“But you’ve only been here six months,” he said, as if that explained everything.
She folded her arms and lifted a brow. “I was asked out three times the first week. Five times the next week. Shall I go on or don’t you believe a man could want me?”
“I believe you,” he said, his gaze drifting to her mouth.
Heat pooled in the pit of her stomach. She wanted his mouth on hers again and she was going to get it. “Good. Block party starts at noon. Bring an appetite. Use the code ‘neighbor’ to get your car past the barricades in case you have to leave.”
His hands slipped into his pockets. “I’ll be busy all this week. I’m speaking at a symposium Tuesday evening. I’m giving a talk at the medical school on Wednesday. There’s a charity function Friday night.”
“Then by Saturday you’ll need to kick back and relax,” she told him. “The party will go on until nightfall from what I understand. Come when you can or just to pick up a plate.”
“I don’t know.”
He was retreating again. Time to pull back and let him mull things over. Unlike her, Cade thought things through. He also wasn’t the type of man to be pushed or rushed. She stepped around him and opened the door. “I understand. Good night and thanks again.”
Looking a bit unsure, he said, “Good night.”
Sabrina closed the door and smiled. If he didn’t feel something for her, he wouldn’t have felt the need to mention he didn’t date coworkers. She just had to build on it. She had all weekend to plan.
* * *
Kara arrived at Tristan’s house Monday night, ready to start framing and, despite her best efforts, longing for the sight of him. She’d missed him. Being cooped up in the house with her mother all weekend hadn’t helped. Her one outlet was finishing the painting of him. It was the least she could do for his mother.
Kara might have ambivalent feelings about Tristan, but Sabrina knew exactly what she wanted. Dr. Mathis. That day at lunch Sabrina had confided that Dr. Mathis was being stubborn, but it wouldn’t do him any good. He was going to be hers.
Getting out of her car with the small canvas, Kara wished she could be as confident about her future. When Sabrina asked Kara about her and Tristan, Kara hadn’t been sure how to answer except to say that he gave her hope.
The door opened. Tristan pulled her into his arms and kissed her. When she came up for air, she held up the canvas. “For your mother.”
He took the picture and stared at it so long she became nervous.
“Vera will love it.”
“But you don’t,” she said, unable to hide the hurt in her voice.
“It’s impossible not to like it. You kept the teasing look in the eyes, but the stubborn chin is there as well.” He looked at her. “Once again, you’ve amazed me. Thank you. I’ll go put this up for Vera.”
She stared after him, then continued to the room to work. She never knew what to expect from Tristan. Yes, she did, she decided as she pulled on her gloves—his easygoing manner, his faith in her, and kisses that left her wanting more. Not a bad combination. Not bad at all.
Hours later when she was ready to go home, he’d followed her as usual. The next night and the next were a repeat of the night before. With one major difference, the kisses were getting hotter, longer, more intense.
She was getting used to his touch and wanting more. Each night took Kara closer to finishing framing the pictures, and realizing her dream. Promising her mother a shopping trip to Dillard’s at Uptown Village kept her reasonably mollified with quick meals and the house not being as spotless as Kara usually kept it.
Thursday night, she’d arrived to find the glass and matting for the pictures. She’d simply asked for the receipt. She was paying Tristan back every penny.
“Only if you kiss me,” he said, a teasing grin lifting the corners of his too tempting lips as he held the receipt over his head.
She wasn’t so slow that she didn’t recognize he was asking for more than a kiss, he was asking for her trust. He’d asked so little of her, and when he had, it had been for her benefit. She curved her arms around his neck and kissed him on the forehead.
“Pitiful.”
The next one was on his cheek.
“Better.”
She smiled up at him. With Tristan, she could relax, be herself. He pushed her, but he was always there for her, something few people had been in her life. For him she could let herself go and let her body press against him, the way she’d wanted for so long.
His heart leaped, her pulse thudded. She watched his beautiful eyes narrow, felt him go hard. Still he waited. He was also patient with her.
Her lips brushed once, twice against his, enjoying being held by him, enjoying the softness of his mouth, the muscled hardness and warmth of his body. She wanted more. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, seeking, finding the hot, intoxicating taste of him.
His arms closed tightly around her waist, dragging her closer. Between one breath and the next, he took charge, deepening the kiss, taking her higher. Pleasure rippled though her as his mouth plundered hers, leaving her weak and pliant and needy. Very needed.
As if reading her thoughts, his large hand cupped her hips, bringing her closer to his erection. Her leg lifted to wrap around his hips.
He groaned her name. She moaned his. They broke apart at the same time.
Their breathing labored, she tucked her head between his neck and shoulder, and tried to clear her mind of the sensual haze, fight the need rippling though her to rip off his shirt and feast on his body.
“You make me forget,” he breathed, nibbling on her earlobe.
She tilted her head to give him better access and let her leg slide down. “Same here.”
“If this wasn’t important to you…”
He didn’t have to continue. He’d stopped for the same reason she had—if they didn’t, they’d end up in bed and it would be a long time before he let her out. If only …
She drew in one studying breath after the other until her blood no longer rushed hotly through her veins, until her legs supported her. She stepped back.
He handed her the receipt. She was surprised, and a bit pleased that his hand was as unsteady as hers when she took it and shoved the slip of paper into her pocket.
“Thank you.”
A slow, sexy grin spread across his handsome face. “My pleasure.”
She grinned back. “I better get to work.” With one last lingering look, she went down the hall, away from temptation.
* * *
By Friday night, Cade was restless and on edge. The reason had nothing to do with his being in a long line of cars slowly making their way to the waiting valets. He didn’t like social events, but that wasn’t why he was out of sorts. As difficult as it was for him to admit, let alone accept, he missed Sabrina. He had caught a glimpse of her Tuesday afternoon in the ER, but nothing since.
Apparently, she had finally realized there could never be anything between them. So why couldn’t he stop thinking about her winsome smile, the way she melte
d in his arms, how she blew his mind with a kiss?
Annoyed with himself, Cade stopped in front of the many valets in red vests. A waiting hand opened his door. Climbing out of his car, he thanked the valet, accepted his parking ticket, and joined the other guests climbing the white steps to the hundred-year-old front doors of Hempstead Mansion, a twenty-five-thousand-foot monstrosity of a home.
Bill Hempstead was a billionaire and he shared the wealth he’d made in the dot.com business. He had a heart of gold and a wife who had the misguided thought that every surface needed to have an object on it. The house was an expensive, cluttered mess.
Cade thought of how inviting and restful Sabrina’s house was in comparison and snarled. The matronly woman beside him quickly moved through the open door the butler held. Just inside the door were four perky young women, checking names off the guest list.
Bill might have a heart of gold, but he detested moochers and gate crashers. No one got past the front door who wasn’t on the guest list, proof that they’d paid the two-thousand-dollar ticket price. At least the food was always good and substantial, the booze the best money could buy.
Once cleared, Cade walked farther into the cathedral-like entryway. Perhaps the diversion would keep the mild headache away that had been plaguing him most of the day. He never got headaches. He resisted the urge to rub his temple and stepped into the great room.
The huge room, done in red and gold, was packed and loud. No one seemed to be paying attention to the woman singing an old Anne Murray song. A horde of waiters in white dinner jackets served food and drinks. Although he hadn’t eaten since breakfast, Cade wasn’t hungry. If the chief-of-staff, Tony Davenport, hadn’t asked him to come, Cade would have sent a check and his regrets. Since Tony left Cade alone, Cade felt it would be in his best interest to attend.
“Dr. Mathis. Dr. Mathis.” Lena Hempstead waved. Wineglass in hand, she hurried toward him, at least as much as the low-cut, skintight red dress would allow.
“Hello, Mrs. Hempstead,” he said.
She placed her hand on his arm and smiled up at him. “I’m glad you could join us again this year. Tony said you’d be here,” she said. “I know you’re busy.”
“Texas appreciates what you and Bill have done,” Cade said, and meant it. He might not want to be there, but he could appreciate the Hempsteads’ commitment to helping others. Lena might dress a bit provocatively, but she was genuine and she loved her husband. She was good people in Cade’s book.
She glanced around with a pleased smile. “I think we’re going to reach our goal to build a serenity garden at the entrance of the Lois Hempstead Cancer Center by summer’s end. Bill’s mother was a strong believer in prayer and meditation.”
Bill’s mother had succumbed to cancer several months before. “I never met Mrs. Hempstead, but I heard a great deal about her.”
Lena leaned over. “She didn’t like me at first for Bill, said I was all wrong for him. I understood after I had children of my own. You want the best for them. Before we lost her, she loved me like a daughter. There’s nothing like a mother’s love.”
“Yes,” Cade said. Instead of thinking about himself, he thought of Sabrina and what she had endured at the hands of her birth mother. Rage surged though him.
“You all right?” Lena asked, her eyes going wide.
“Yes,” he said, working to bring his anger under control. “I was just thinking.”
“Well, it’s time to relax. There’s plenty of food and drinks.” Lena patted him on the arm. “I see someone I need to speak with. Please excuse me.”
As she moved away, Cade glanced at his watch. He’d circulate, give it another fifteen minutes, thirty tops, and then he was going home.
Accepting a glass of wine from a passing waitress he had no intention of drinking, he moved around the edge of the crowd, seeing several doctors and staff members as he did. He spoke, but he kept moving. It didn’t bother him that they didn’t invite him to join them; he’d always been on the outside looking in. Besides, he wasn’t much on small talk.
Halfway around the room, he heard a woman’s familiar laughter. The sound went though him like leashed lightning. He jerked around to see Sabrina talking with two men. She wore a fitted black dress with red-and-black ruffles at the hem, her slim back partially bare. She faced away from him, but he knew the happy sound of her laughter, the elegant shape of her body. He was moving before he realized it.
“Good evening.”
Sabrina turned to him, her eyes twinkling. His narrowed. There wasn’t a shred of surprise in her beautiful face. Then he recalled he’d mentioned the charity event to her. “Dr. Mathis, I’d like you to meet Jeff Kennedy and Bobby Rush.”
The men barely nodded. He’d be an idiot not to realize they saw him as a threat. Smart.
“Well, gentlemen, it was nice meeting you. I should go. I have a busy day tomorrow,” she said, placing her full glass of wine on the tray of a passing waiter.
“Please stay,” Jeff urged. “I could get you another glass of wine.”
“Would you like a plate?” Bobby asked. “Uncle Bill and Aunt Lena always have great food.”
“Thank you both, but I really must go. Night.” Smiling, she walked off. Cade and the two men were left staring after her.
* * *
Sabrina handed her parking ticket to the valet and refused to look back to see if Cade had followed her. She’d almost given up hope that he’d attend the charity function, and then he’d walked in. Her heart had done a crazy jitterbug, the way it always did when first she saw him. Mercy, he was one gorgeous man. In his black tux, he was devastating, his unsmiling face giving him an aloofness that had woman after woman watching him. He didn’t seem to notice.
She’d debated on the best way to get his attention, then Mrs. Hempstead had rushed over to greet him. Sabrina hadn’t been worried about anything romantic between them. For the Hempsteads, like her parents, obviously had a love that grew stronger with each passing year.
Once the hostess left, Cade began to circulate. Sabrina saw her chance to “accidentally” meet him and made her way across the room to place herself in his path. A few minutes before Cade showed up the two men had approached her and introduced themselves.
“They’re complaining that they didn’t get your phone number,” Cade said from behind her. He didn’t sound pleased with her. Good.
Was that jealously in his voice? “There’s only one man I want to have my phone number,” she said without looking at him.
“Car number two-eighty-eight.”
“That’s me. If you’d like to continue this conversation, you know where to find me.” Despite her shaking legs, she got inside her car and drove away.
* * *
After debating about going home and finally taking something for his headache and the wisdom of going to Sabrina’s house, he’d ended up in Sabrina’s driveway. She was the one and only temptation he couldn’t resist. Despite everything, she loved life.
He lived life, but he wasn’t sure he had ever enjoyed it. He’d never had the chance. He couldn’t remember having one carefree day. The man his birth mother and her family sent him to live with spouted Bible verses and made Cade’s life hell. In college, he had been too busy studying and working. He’d been determined to succeed, to show the old man that he wasn’t stupid as he’d told him every day the sun rose, show him that he could make something of himself.
Cade had done that and more.
He and Sabrina had little in common. He hated the woman who gave him away. Sabrina had forgiven her birth mother for scalding her. Her scars were on the outside. His were on the inside. He should just go home. And then what? Opening the car door, he got out and went up the steps to ring the doorbell.
Before the sound ended, Sabrina, still dressed in the provocative black-and-red dress, opened the door. “Hi, Cade. Please come in.”
He stepped over the threshold and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “I’m not sur
e this is wise.”
“That’s debatable.” She closed the door. “Why don’t we go out on the patio?” Not waiting for him to answer, she walked away.
Cade got another arousing view of the slim curve of her bare back, the enticing sway of her hips. He hardened with need. Definitely, not a wise idea. The slight headache that had plagued him off and on all day, brutally reared its ugly head again.
She stopped at the sliding glass door. “Coming?”
He was trying his best not to.
“Cade?”
Removing his hands from his pockets, he followed her outside, and realized immediately that he was in trouble. Several flickering candles in brass lanterns of varying heights sat around the grouped seating arrangement in front of the bricked fireplace, casting the patio in undulating shadows. The pool light and water rushing over the waterfall added to the air of seduction.
Sabrina took a seat on the cushioned sofa. “I have Hennessy and tea. Coffee in the kitchen. What would you like?”
“To be able to stop thinking about making love to you,” he answered, not sure if he wanted to frighten her or entice her.
She paused as she reached for a glass. Slowly, her head lifted. “Why?”
“Why?” he repeated. “I think that’s obvious.”
She picked up the glass, sipped, then leaned back. “No, it’s not. At least not to me. I think the reason is more than just us working together.”
“I don’t do relationships,” he told her bluntly.
“Why?”
He shoved his hand over his head, paced. The pounding in his head worsened. “People lie and try to paint sex as anything but a basic human need. My way is more honest.”
“And meaningless.” She placed her glass on the table and stood. “I’ll show you out.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “What?”
She stopped mere inches from him. “I might care about you, but I’m not going to be intimate with you or any other man just because you have an urge. The man I give myself to for the first time is going to want me for all the right reasons.”
“The first—” He stared at her. “You can’t be— You’re beautiful.”
