by Tori Scott
CHAPTER TWO
"Gray, I really appreciate all the trouble you’ve gone to for me." Cara shook her head, making her pony tail wag side to side, giving her the appearance of an overexcited puppy. Gray grinned and took a step toward her. She took a step back.
"Or rather, all the trouble I’ve gone to for me. No, that doesn’t sound right either." She set her fists on her hips. "Damn it, you idiot. Stop laughing at me."
"I’m not laughing at you, Caramia. I’d never do that. But you look so darned cute in that pony tail and those shorts--just like you did at fifteen." He took two steps forward, startling her. She tried to move back, but her legs hit the edge of the bed and she fell onto the mattress. "If only I could have gotten you into this position back then."
Her chin tilted up, her eyes met his with a challenge. "You wouldn’t have known what to do with me back then."
"Wanna bet?" He nudged her legs apart with his knee and moved between them. He didn’t touch her, content to look for the moment. He’d had to be careful these last few years to not let her catch him looking. She’d been so sure that Dickens character was "the one" that Gray had stepped back to give her a shot at happiness, even though he knew she was making a mistake. But now there was no one between them, and he could look as much as he wanted.
"Look, I made that promise a long time ago. Things have changed. We’ve changed."
He nodded as a slow grin spread across his face. His gaze locked firmly on her breasts. "Yep, I’d say you’re right. You’re even more beautiful than you were then. You’ve filled out, in all the right places."
Cara tried to scoot backwards across the bedspread, but Gray held her firmly in place with one hand on her arm. Heat sizzled where he touched her. Why was she fighting him? He could tell by her flushed cheeks and rapid breathing that she wanted him.
And it was obvious how much he wanted her. There wasn’t much way a guy could hide something like that.
But he wasn’t getting anywhere with her at the moment. She was skittish as a newborn foal. He’d come on too strong, too fast. He needed a distraction, something to take her mind off the eventual destination. She needed to enjoy the trip first.
Gray glanced around the room at the twinkling lights and flickering candles. He was more impressed than he’d expected to be at the sensuous scene she’d set. His gaze fell on the buffet of food on the table, a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice at one end. Bingo.
He reached down and grabbed her hand, pulling her up and off the bed before she could protest. She landed against his chest and he took a moment to just hold her. She trembled in his arms. God, what he wouldn’t give to take her right now, but she wasn’t ready. He wanted her to be an eager partner, not a resigned one.
"Let’s try some of this food you worked so hard to fix." He led her to the table and breathed a sigh of relief when she gave him a grateful smile.
"I’m starving. I never had time to eat today." She filled a plate with veggies and dip, and after a moment’s hesitation, she added two chocolate-covered strawberries and a dollop of cream cheese dip.
"You don’t nibble while you’re putting this stuff out? I don’t think I could resist."
"No. The customer pays for all this. It wouldn’t be right to eat it."
"Well, tonight you’re the customer, so eat all you want." He scooped a strawberry through the cream cheese dip and popped it into his mouth. "M-m-m. This is good."
"They’re organic, specially grown for sweetness. And the chocolate is organic, too."
Gray picked up another and held it to her lips. "For tonight, forget the sales pitch. Just close your eyes and taste."
Cara looked into his eyes for a moment, as though to see if she could trust him. Then her lids drifted closed and she took a bite. He watched the expressions flit across her face as she savored the explosions of flavor and texture--the tart sweetness of the berry, the rich chocolate, the sweet, creamy dip. He was determined to put that same look on her face when he finally got her into bed.
When her eyes opened and she smiled up at him, all traces of her former nervousness had disappeared. She leaned into his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. She sighed and snuggled closer. "Who would have guessed you were a closet romantic?" she whispered, almost to herself.
It finally hit him. What Cara wanted wasn’t the fancy trappings of candlelight and wine. She wanted romance. She wanted to feel like the most important woman in a man’s life, to know he cared enough to spare nothing to make her happy.
He might only have twenty-four hours to give her that romance, but he would do his level best.
***
Don’t get carried away, Cara. Remember, this isn’t love. You’re unfinished business for Gray, that’s all. As soon as he gets what he wants, he’ll be on his way. That’s what Sam had told her back in high school, when Gray had confided his plans for that Saturday night when she’d nearly lost her virginity. That much probably hadn’t changed. It was the way most men operated.
If she needed proof, she only had to look as far as her own family. Her mother and sister had both ended up pregnant at sixteen. Her own father hadn't bothered to stick around.
At least she wasn’t a naive virgin who didn’t know any better. She’d had her college fling, only to be dumped within a week. An office romance had ended badly, though she had hung on to him for a whole month before he tired of her. Only Dennis had lasted, and that was probably because she’d refused to have sex with him. She’d thought he might be the one and hadn’t been willing to ruin a good thing.
As soon as she gave Gray what he wanted, he’d take off too. And she’d really hate that. He’d been her friend for too many years, and she didn’t want to lose him.
But, oh God, she dearly wanted to make love to him.
And she did promise...
"I can almost hear those wheels turning in your head. Has anyone ever told you that you think too much?"
"Yeah, you, as a matter of fact. And I was right. Can you imagine where we’d be now if I hadn’t thought about the possible consequences?"
"Married, with three kids and a house in the suburbs?"
"Maybe. Or you might have had to drop out of school and work at McDonald’s to support a wife and baby, and neither of us would have gone to college. We’d have ended up poor, and probably divorced."
"Like I said, you think too much."
When she started to pull back, Gray held her close and began to move with the music. One of her biggest regrets was that she’d never had a chance to dance with him before they broke up. Her mother had been strict, too strict, and hadn’t allowed Cara to date until she was sixteen. For some reason she’d allowed her to go with Gray to the library, probably because he’d been around so much she didn’t even notice him anymore.
Those library trips had become an excuse to be together as they got older, but they’d never been on an official date. No proms or winter formals. No homecoming dances. Just stolen moments at his house when his parents were out, or in the woods by the creek. But it was never enough.
Cara sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck. At least she had this moment. And it would have to be enough.
***
Reggie followed Sam to the parking lot, wondering if he’d say good-bye and walk away like he usually did, or if he’d notice her for once. Really notice her. There’d been a spark back there in the stairwell, but if she didn’t find a way to fan the flame, it would go out from lack of interest. Lack of interest on his part, not hers. She’d been in lust with Sam for years.
Too bad she couldn’t say the same for him.
"So, um, do you think we should stick close by for a bit? Maybe grab some dinner across the street where we can watch the hotel?" God, that was so lame. And from the look on Sam’s face, dumb.
"Why? Gray will call me if things go south."
"Never mind. Forget I said anything. I’ll catch you later." Reggie turned and headed for her car. When would she learn? Sam only had eye
s for platinum blondes with perfect teeth who drove BMW convertibles. It was the way he was brought up. From the time he was old enough to walk and talk, his parents had drilled him on his responsibilities. He had to carry on the family name, and absolutely mustn’t dilute the gene pool with an undesirable mate. His job was to fund charitable foundations, but not give to individuals lest he be taken advantage of. He must be aware of who he was at all times. Appearances were everything.
She could remember him back when he was just a little guy, standing behind the fence watching her and her friends playing baseball in the park. He’d looked so damned lonely that she’d asked him if he wanted to play. His face had lit up as he nodded, but before he could make it to the hole in the fence, his nanny grabbed his hand and dragged him away, scolding him for talking to trash. Sam had watched Reggie over his shoulder all the way to the big, black Lincoln that waited to whisk him away from temptation.
"Hey, Reggie. Wait up!" Sam caught up with her as she reached her car. "You’re right. I’m hungry, and we really should stick around a while longer. Want a hamburger?"
She looked up at him with a grin. "What? Just a plain old hamburger? No champagne and caviar?"
"I gave up caviar for Lent. Can we go, or do you have a few more insults to throw first?"
Reggie could tell he was teasing, but she felt a bit guilty for needling him like that. But she couldn’t help it. She’d never forget the year he’d talked his father into letting him attend public school. Watching him arrive at the local elementary school in a chauffer-driven limousine had started a love-hate relationship for Reggie. She’d managed to give him a black eye before lunchtime that first day, and they’d been friends ever since.
Instead of being mad at her, he’d thanked her. The black eye had made him seem more approachable and had gone a long way toward easing the tension his arrival had created. From that day forward he’d insisted on walking to school with them, with the ever-present nanny trailing behind, much to his mother’s dismay. Mrs. Samuel Clayton Hyatt III had tried in vain to sever those friendships right up to the day she died.
Reggie pushed away from her car and followed Sam into the twenty-four hour diner across the street from the hotel. She should tell him she had better things to do, better places to be. But there wasn’t any place else she’d rather be. If she couldn’t be the love of Sam’s life, she’d settle for being his friend.
God knew, Sam needed a friend.
They settled into a booth in front of the wide plate glass window. Reggie watched Sam over the top of the menu, hiding a smile as he tried to choose between French fries and tater tots.
He caught her watching him. "What? I can’t have ketchup on my tie, since I'm not wearing one."
She tucked the menu back behind the napkin holder and shook her head. "You’re really out of your element here, aren’t you?"
"Of course not. I’ve eaten in diners before."
"Really? I would have bet you’d never had dinner in one. A milkshake, maybe. But you always go home for dinner, or out at one of your fancy-schmancy restaurants." She knew she’d scored a point when his ears turned red.
"What difference does it make? I’m here now. George never has to know where I ate my evening meal."
"Ah, yes. Good old George. How is your darling butler these days?"
"He’s not a butler." Sam’s eyebrows drew together in a scowl.
Reggie leaned forward on her elbows. "Right. Let’s see. He has a British accent, opens the front door, keeps out scum like the landscaper, lays out your suits every morning, and makes sure you have a brandy waiting when you walk in the door at night. He oversees the household staff and makes sure you eat properly. Sounds like a butler to me."
But Sam wasn’t listening. "When did George keep you out of the house?"
Reggie’s face flushed with remembered embarrassment. "It’s not important."
Sam leaned forward, his jaw set. "It damned well is important. You’re not just the landscaper. You’re my friend. He has no right to keep my friends out of my home."
"It’s okay, Sam. I just stopped by to talk to you about the fund raiser for Missy Larsen. George didn’t realize I was more than hired help. He probably thought I wanted a draw on the job."
He leaned back, but his jaw didn’t relax. Reggie had a feeling George would hear about this when Sam got home, and he would blame her. The man was formidable even when he liked someone. She couldn’t imagine ever being allowed in Sam’s house again.
"Why were you raising money for Missy Larsen? That’s Karen’s little girl, right? Does she need money for camp or something?"
Tears sprang to her eyes as they did whenever she thought of Missy. "No," she said, barely above a whisper. "Missy has ALL. It’s a form of childhood cancer. Karen and Mark have no insurance, so they need to take her to St. Jude’s for treatment. We’re trying to raise enough money to let them both go with her and stay as long as they need to."
"How much do you need?" Sam was already pulling out his checkbook.
"Our goal is a hundred thousand right now. We’ve raised over forty thousand so far."
Sam filled in the blank check, signed it, and handed it to Reggie. She glanced down and gasped. "But Sam, that’s too much."
He shrugged. "Tell them to put whatever they don’t use into Missy’s college fund. She’ll need it after she beats this thing."
Now she really regretted the good-natured insults she’d tossed his way. She’d still been smarting over being turned away by George, not that it was any excuse. And now here Sam was being generous to a family he barely knew. "You’re a good guy, Sam."
He grinned. "Don’t let that get around. I’m trying to maintain my reputation as a shark."
CHAPTER THREE
Cara felt drugged, relaxed from swaying to the music, wrapped in Gray’s arms, snuggled against his warm chest. The memories threatened to drown her. He smelled just like she remembered--of fresh air, sunshine, and aftershave. His body was more muscular, but oh, so familiar. The erection pressing against her belly that once terrified her now made her damp and needy.
But she was still afraid she wouldn’t live up to his expectations. He’d been Austin High’s heart throb, and even the older girls vied for his attention. Cara was way out of their league and had stepped back into the shadows, watching as he moved from one girl to the next. Plenty of them were willing to give him whatever he wanted, girls much more experienced than she.
She suspected he was still out of her league.
As one song slipped into the next, Gray maneuvered them across the room and through the French doors to the balcony. He propped one hip on the balustrade and pulled her between his legs. "I've missed you, Cara." He kissed her forehead, and she sighed.
She propped her chin on his shoulder and looked out over the water. Lights from the houses along the shore sparkled on the calm water. The light breeze carried the scents of backyard barbeques. "I've missed you, too. Sometimes I wish…"
Her voice trailed away and Gray leaned her back until he could see her face. "Wish what?"
What did she wish? That she'd let him have his way back then? That she'd taken the risk, knowing her family history? "I wish we hadn't let so much time go by. I know I said I wanted to finish college, get my business going, but what about the years since then?"
"You could have promised to have sex with me at twenty-one. Or twenty-five."
She tilted her head back. "Is that all this is? Just the fulfillment of a desperate promise? Because if it is, I'm out of here."
"Shhh." He held her firmly when she tried to step back, rubbing one hand up and down her back. "That's not what I meant. I was trying to give you time to know what you wanted. I didn't want to mess things up again. And there was Dickass in there, too. You were with him nearly a year and I thought I'd lost you. I nearly decked him once."
"You didn't! He was a really nice guy. I can't imagine him making anyone that mad."
"Just seeing him hold your hand made
me want to knock him out."
Cara smiled at that. In the beginning, she'd only gone out with Jeremy Dickens to make Gray jealous. She'd thought it hadn't worked, but she'd been wrong.
He pulled her close again, wrapping his arms around her to keep her warm in the cool night breeze.
Her stomach chose that moment to growl.
Gray chuckled. "You weren't kidding when you said you were hungry. Want to go see what else is on the menu?"
"You know," she said, shaking her head, "as fancy as all that food is in there, I’d rather eat a good old-fashioned hamburger any day."
Gray chuckled. "Don’t tell me I could have had you for the price of a burger and fries after poor Sam paid so dearly for that fancy food."
That over-used line from Jerry Maquire popped into her head..."you had me at hello."
"Guess you’ll never know, will you?"
His hands slid down her back and cupped her bottom, pulling her tight against his erection, reminding her once again that he might be more than she could handle. In more ways than one.
His hands moved lower, his fingers teasing the skin beneath her shorts. She resisted the temptation to tug the material lower. But the seemingly mindless caress set her nerve endings on fire. Who knew the upper thigh was an erogenous zone? His hands slid higher, over the back of her shorts, setting nerve endings on fire and putting her in closer contact with his body. All she had to do was open to him…
***
It took considerable effort to pull his hands away from that luscious backside when he could feel the muscles tightening in response to his light caress. But pull away he did. Gray wanted more than one night of sex. He’d been in love with Cara since high school, though he hadn’t realized it until he learned she was engaged to Dickass. Almost losing her opened his eyes, and he wasn’t about to lose her again. He needed to take this slowly. They had twenty-three hours left, and he planned to make sure she fell in love with him before their time was up.
Gray took a step back and tipped her chin up. "How about we back up a bit, take it slow and easy? The last thing I want is to force you into anything. Let’s go get that burger, talk for a while, then see how you feel. No sex, just conversation."
