by Francis Ray
“Million dollars.” Hazel’s annoyed eyes snapped to Kara. “You didn’t tell me how much the house cost.”
“I’m not sure she knew,” Vera put in smoothly. “Kara’s focus has been on finishing framing the paintings. And rightly so. Some very important people will see her art. Tristan will make sure of that.”
“I don’t trust him,” Hazel said. “He wants more than the paintings and is using his looks to get them.”
Kara tensed. Vera didn’t take kindly to anyone maligning Tristan.
“I can understand your caution. Mothers love their children.” She leaned forward. “Just as I love Tristan, my son.”
Hazel straightened. “Your last name isn’t the same as his,” she stammered.
“My professional name. My late husband was an Italian count.” Vera’s mouth softened. “He was always supportive of anything I did.”
“A count,” Hazel whispered, awed.
Vera waved her hand negligently. “I didn’t come here to talk about me. Kara, I’d love to show you what I envision for your paintings. Please say you’ll come with me.”
“Yes,” Kara said, coming to her feet. Vera had given her a chance and she was taking it. “I’ll go change.”
“You look fine.” Vera rose.
“Maybe I should go,” Hazel suggested and stood.
No. Kara swallowed.
“If only you could.” Vera took Kara’s arm and steered her to the door. “I’m in the two-seater. If I had thought, I would have driven my other car.”
“What’s your other car?” Hazel asked, avarice in her voice. Kara winced, but kept walking.
“A Phantom Rolls.”
Hazel actually licked her lips and followed them onto the porch. “You plan to put all seventeen pictures of Kara’s up?”
“Yes.” Vera went down the steps.
“How much does she stand to make?” Hazel asked, one hand on the cane, the other pressed against the brick post.
“That depends on a lot of things. There are costs involved. Commission, overhead, supplies that have to be taken into account and subtracted.” Vera slid into the driver’s seat as Kara got in on the other side. “I’ll try to have her home before midnight. Good-bye, and thank you.”
Hazel watched them leave, her face unsmiling.
* * *
Kara buckled her seat belt and waited until Vera had pulled into the street and her mother had gone back inside. “I’m sorry about my mother.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Vera said, and activated the Bluetooth. “We’ll meet you at my shop,” she said, then disconnected the call. “There’s only one thing you can do for me.”
“Yes?”
“Live your life the way you want to live it,” she said, stopping at the barricade.
Kara clenched her hands in her lap. Easier said than done. The two off-duty policemen acting as security for the neighborhood party grinned and waved them through.
“We’re meeting Tristan at my office,” Vera explained as she headed for the freeway. “I detest liars—unless necessary,” she said, then laughed.
With the wind blowing in her hair and the anticipation of seeing Tristan, Kara should have been feeling carefree as well, but all she could think of was her mother’s greed.
* * *
Tristan was waiting for his mother and Kara when they pulled up in front of Vera’s store, Fiore Design Studio, located in the design district off Oak Lawn. He pushed away from his truck and walked over. Kara got out of the car, but stared at her tennis shoes. “Thanks, Vera,” he said, then took Kara’s hand. “You all right?”
“Kara has to come inside the shop before you two disappear,” Vera said, continuing inside.
“Kara?” She finally lifted her head. She looked unbearably sad. He swept his hand over her wind-tossed hair. “Talk to me.”
“My mother loves money more than she loves me,” she whispered.
He bit back a curse. His heart turned over. He drew her into his arms, felt her tremble. He searched his mind for something to say to ease the pain he’d heard. The words I don’t flashed through his mind. He had to clamp his teeth together to keep from saying them. He shifted uneasily.
Kara pushed out of his arms and started inside the shop. He caught her arm. She glanced back at him, misery in her eyes.
“Her loss,” he said, his hand sliding into her hair, angling her head up. “You count in all the ways that matter. You’re beautiful, talented, and courageous.”
Her laugh was ragged. “Hardly.”
“I see what you don’t. What you see as weakness, I see as strength,” he said, meaning every word. “It takes more courage and more love to stay than to walk away, which would be the easy thing to do. You chose love over easy.”
She let her head fall against his chest. “Your mother is the only person I’ve ever seen that outmaneuvered mine.”
“That’s my mother. Why do you think I called her?”
Her head lifted. “I thought so.”
“I was worried about you,” he confessed, his mouth hovering inches from hers.
“I wish life was simple.”
“Let’s make a pact that when we’re together, it will be.” His mouth moved closer.
“I might forget.” Their warm breaths mingled.
“Then I’ll just have to remind you.” He kissed her, a gentle press of his lips, then lifted his head. “Let’s go see what Vera wants, and then we’re going to the movies, sit in the back row, and make out.”
She stared up at him. “How about we switch locations to your house? I don’t have to be home until midnight.”
His smile was sad. “I don’t want your mother on your case.”
“And you wouldn’t want to use Vera that way.”
“Yeah,” he confessed. It was more important that she be happy than they go to bed.
Kara finally smiled and curved her arms around his neck. “You’re an honorable man, Tristan. Thank you.”
He hugged her to him, resigned to be horny, but Kara’s trust and smile were well worth it.
Sixteen
Sabrina sat on the cushioned sofa on the patio with Cade, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her. The full moon cast a golden glow over them. She’d never felt more at peace.
“Today was fantastic,” she said, snuggling closer.
“You have good friends, good neighbors,” Cade said, kissing the top of her head. “If one of us had to be adopted by people who loved them, I’m glad it was you.”
She turned to him, her heart aching for him. “Cade.” The tips of her fingertips trembled as they brushed across his lips. “I wish I could do something to make up for what you went though.”
He stared down at her. “You already have.”
Both moved at the same time, their lips meeting, softening against the other. Sabrina turned in his arms, wanting to give, to erase the unhappiness he’d experienced as a child, and was unable to forget as an adult.
“I want to make love to you,” he said, his mouth hovering inches from hers.
Standing, she took his hand. She didn’t stop until they were in her bedroom. The lamps on the twin bedside chests were dim, the covers drawn back on the queen-sized bed, the air fragrant from the group of candles on the dresser.
“I was sort of hoping you did.”
“Sabrina,” he breathed, taking her into his arms again, his mouth finding the sweetness of hers. She was open and honest. He hadn’t known what it was to be really happy until she came into his life. As always, she came, giving herself totally to him. His tongue mated with hers. His breathing hitched along with hers. He’d never known a kiss could be so wildly erotic.
His hand swept up under the white tunic top and moved upward. The instant his hand touched the skin graft, she jerked, trembled.
He didn’t hesitate. He went to the lamps and turned both up, then came back to her. “I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for you, but I’m hoping you know that it’s d
ifficult for me as well.”
She frowned. “For you? Why?”
He smiled, brushing her hair back from her irresistible face. Sabrina always wanted answers. “Since this is your first time, you probably have very high expectations, maybe a fantasy or two.”
She looked up at him. “Maybe. I’m reasonably sure you’ll see me and not change, but…”
“You could feel the same way about me. Let’s see.” He tossed off his polo shirt, toed off his loafers. His slacks followed.
Her eyes widened. “You’re beautiful.”
“So are you.” He pulled the ties free at the wrists of her tunic, reached for the hem. “May I?”
She nodded. “It’s only fair. Right?”
The barrier he’d erected around his heart melted. She wouldn’t let fear rule her. She humbled him. He had to be just as brave.
He pulled the blouse over her head in one smooth motion. Her gaze locked on his face. He let his eyes slowly move downward over her left shoulder to the barely there lace bra. The scars, from midway on her left breast to the waistband of her pants, were flat and resembled a patchwork of skin. As he’d noted before, skin had been grafted from her stomach. He saw it with his eyes, but also with his heart.
His hungry gaze came back to hers. “I’ll say it again. You’re beautiful. You humble me with your courage, your capacity to forgive and love life.” His hands settled on her small waist. “You also drive me crazy with wanting you.”
She blinked, swallowed, and slowly smiled. Her arms curved around his neck. “We can’t have that.” She kissed him, sliding her tongue into his mouth to taste and tease as she pressed against him.
Pleasure and passion swept through him. He wanted this to be as perfect for her as she was making it for him. His mouth moved with maddening slowness over the curve of her jaw, the slope of her shoulder, hovered as he unhooked her bra. Her breasts were high, firm, and exquisite.
“I’m a lucky man,” he said, his warm breath teasing her nipple, just before he pulled it into his mouth. She jerked, then arched, holding his head to her. He moved to the right, licking and teasing and blowing.
“Cade.” She moaned out his name.
Sweeping her into his arms, he placed her on the bed, enjoying the sight of her flushed face and full breasts, before pulling the wide-leg pants from her legs. His heart almost stopped on seeing the lacy scrap of material masquerading as panties. He swallowed.
Leaning over, he kissed her there then stripped her panties away. He tossed his briefs after her panties and pulled her back into his arms, kissing her, allowing his hands to freely roam her incredible body. She was an unexpected gift that he treasured.
Soon, kissing and touching ceased to be enough. He groaned when he realized his condom was in his wallet.
“What?”
“Protection’s in my pants and I don’t want to move that far away from you.”
“You don’t have to.” Reaching under the pillow she held up a package, then tore off the wrapper and straddled him. “Let me.”
The indulgent smile on Cade’s face faded as Sabrina, with an intensity that strained his willpower, slowly rolled the condom onto his straining flesh. She seemed to take great pride in getting it on just right, running her hand over it repeatedly.
He tried to remain still, but with her breasts moving enticingly in his line of vision, he lost the battle. Rising up, he was once again on top, his mouth kissing her as his fingers tested her readiness and found her hot and wet. He thrust into her, felt her clench around him. He moved slowly, allowing her to adjust to him. He didn’t have to wait long.
Her hips lifted, her legs wrapped around him, urging him deeper. She met him thrust for thrust, bringing them closer until they exploded together. His breathing harsh, he gazed down into Sabrina’s flushed face.
His heart stumbled. She stared up at him, a serene smile on her face. “If I had a fantasy it would be you. This,” she breathed.
“Sabrina.” He rolled, bringing her with him, unwilling to release her. She got to him. It no longer bothered him. She was the one joy he’d looked for in life and never found. Kissing her on the forehead, he closed his eyes and followed her into sleep.
* * *
Tristan pulled up in front of Kara’s house at half-past ten Saturday night, turned off the engine, and reached for her hand. It trembled. “I’m calling in ten minutes.”
She laid her head on his shoulder. “If only—”
Twisting his head, he kissed her on top of her head. “If only what?”
She straightened and looked at him. “Too many things to count.” She briefly pressed her lips to his then jumped out of the car. Pulling her house key out of her pocket, she let herself inside and cocked her head to listen.
Her mother usually watched TV on Saturday night. Since she claimed sitting in the pews at church aggravated her hip, she watched church services on television as well. Two cautious steps later, Kara paused, closed her eyes.
What are you doing, Kara? Now she’s got you sneaking to your room. Her “if only” had been if only she had a mother like Vera, but the flip side would mean she would be as bold as Tristan. He loved his mother, but there was no way he’d let her run his life.
Kara continued down the hall, humming the theme song from a movie she’d only seen snatches of. When she wasn’t kissing Tristan, she just enjoyed being close to him, enjoyed being held by him, knowing he wanted her, but he put her first.
“Kara?”
Still thinking of Tristan, Kara opened her mother’s bedroom door. Several issues of Southern Interior magazine were scattered around the chaise longue she was reclining on. The picture on her television screen had paused. Not good. “Hi, Mama. You need anything?”
“I asked Sheila about that decorator,” she said, plainly still miffed about being left behind.
Kara waited. Sheila and Calvin Golden had the only two-story house on the block. Their warm, inviting home was beautifully and expensively decorated.
“Sheila had heard of her. She’s decorated some of the best homes in the city.” Hazel glanced down at a magazine. “She’s not cheap, which means your paintings won’t be either.”
Money, first and always.
“You watch her and that son of hers.” Hazel snorted. “Commission my foot, but with that many paintings we should make out pretty good.”
We. “I might not sell anything.”
“They wouldn’t be trying to butter you up if they thought that, and that’s why we’re going to the open house, to keep tabs on them,” her mother said smugly. “There’s nothing to keep us away.”
No. Please no. “There’s no need. It will probably be boring and long. You can’t sit that long,” Kara said, walking farther into the room. “The home is two stories. You’ll never be able to get upstairs.”
“Then you’ll go where I can’t. At least you can do that—if you stop thinking about that son of hers,” Hazel snapped. “They won’t get one over on us. You keep working with them, but be smart about it. This is our chance. I won’t let you mess this up for me.”
Me. It would be a waste of time to point out to her mother that she had maligned Kara’s paintings, had tried to destroy them. Now that there was a chance to make money, she was on board all the way. Too late. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Good.” Her mother picked up the remote control and started the TV program again.
Dismissed, Kara went to her room. Her cell phone rang. Picking it up, she plopped on her bed. “My mother believes you and Vera are out to take us. She wants to come to the open house to watch you. I’m to keep working with you to make sure we get our money.”
“What time should I pick you up tomorrow so we can watch each other?”
Tristan took it better than she’d expected. “Why aren’t you as angry as I am? Vera would be.”
“Let’s say I have ulterior motives, all of them having to do with—” He whispered something naughty and intriguing to her.
<
br /> “Noon.” She and Sabrina went to church together and lunch afterward, but Sabrina probably had plans of her own from the way she and Dr. Mathis kept looking at each other. She’d understand.
“See you then. Dress casually. I can’t wait to hold you again. Night.”
Her heart sighed. “Me either. Night.” Kara disconnected the call. Tristan might not be forever, but it was wonderful having him in her life now.
* * *
Cade woke up early Sunday morning with Sabrina wrapped around him. He didn’t think, he just went with his emotions, brushing his lips across her forehead. She snuggled closer, whispered his name softly.
Even asleep, she responded to him. She was the one bright constant thing in his life. For the first time in his memory, he was content.
He glanced down, wanting to see her reaction when she came fully awake. Her eyes opened; happiness shone in them. “Good morning,” she said, climbing completely on top of him.
His body stirred. “It certainly is.”
She chuckled, brushed her lips across his. “I thought I’d dreamt you.”
His hand swept over her naked butt, pressing his arousal against her woman’s softness. “Does that seem real enough?”
Sabrina moaned softly, rubbing against him. “Very.” She nipped his lower lip.
He twisted and then she was on the bottom. His gaze swept over her naked torso with greedy appreciation. “I see you and I want you.”
Her eyes softened with an emotion he couldn’t identify. “Good, because I feel the same way about you.”
“Good.” Putting on a condom, he brought them together.
She clamped around him, her arms tightening as he pumped into her. She reached completion seconds before he did. His breathing harsh, he rolled, taking her with him. Her warm, uneven breath fanned his chest.
“I’m so glad you made the exception to your dating rule,” she murmured, kissing his chest.
