Satisfaction: The Collection

by Tori Scott

  "Well, surely they won't mind. Would you, dear? I'm sure you don't have the proper clothes for dinner at the Ritz." Her tone was not only condescending, it was down right insulting.

  Reggie was about to forget her manners when Sam gave Beebe a long, assessing look. He took Reggie's hand in his. "It was good to see you, Beebe. Enjoy your stay. I'll call you when I get back to the States." He tugged Reggie after him as he stalked out of the store and down the street. He stopped about a block away.

  "I'm sorry you had to be subjected to that. Beebe really bared her claws back there, didn't she?"

  Reggie almost felt sorry for the woman. "It's okay. I take it you didn't tell her you were going on this cruise?"

  Sam looked embarrassed. "No. I didn't want to try to explain it to her. She wouldn't have understood my reasoning, or my friendship with you and Gray and Cara. I just told her I would be out of town for two weeks."

  "Well, that explains her confusion."

  "It doesn't excuse her rudeness. And no, it was not okay. You deserve better than that."

  She put a hand on his arm, feeling the tension in his tight muscles. "Sam, I can fight my own battles. I could have put her in her place if I'd wanted to, but I try not to let people like that get to me. I don't want you to feel bad for me. I honestly don't."

  He looked down at her, then pulled her close. "You're really something, Reggie." And then he kissed her, right there on the Champs-Élysées, in front of God and everybody.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Sam stood in the shower with his hands against the tile wall, letting the water beat against his back. He was still angry with Beebe for treating Reggie so dismissively. The hard look in her eyes had really bothered him and he hadn't been able to shake off the chill that look had sent through him. He'd never realized Beebe had such a cold heart.

  But seeing her there next to Reggie, he hadn't been able to keep from comparing the two. Though Beebe was perfectly put together, she looked pretentious and artificial. Her carefully controlled expressions, her flawless manners were in direct contrast to Reggie's open, big-hearted personality. Beebe never showed emotion, while Reggie couldn't hide hers if she tried.

  And then to hear Reggie trying to make excuses for Beebe's behavior--well, he couldn't imagine Beebe doing that if the situation were reversed. Beebe would have put on a dramatic show of hurt feelings designed to elicit his sympathy, all while plotting her revenge.

  Funny he'd never realized that before.

  The encounter could have spoiled the rest of their time in Paris, but Reggie refused to let it. All the way back to the ship, she'd talked animatedly to Cara and Angel as they exchanged their impressions of Paris. She never once mentioned Beebe when doing so would have guaranteed their sympathy. And she never let go of his hand the entire trip.

  As he soaped his body, he tried to wash away the one bad memory of his first time in Paris with Reggie. And he realized he didn't want it to be his last. He wanted her by his side when he traveled, wherever he went. Paris, Rome, New York…he wanted to show her the world. And when he was home, it was Reggie, not Beebe, that he wanted to come home to at night. Reggie he wanted in his life, in his bed.

  He could almost hear his mother telling him Reggie was white trash, not good enough to take to the prom. Not good enough to be his girlfriend. But he realized, for the first time, that his mother was wrong. She'd been the perfect society wife, but she'd never been a companion for his father. He'd sought out other women for that.

  And that was not how Sam wanted to live his life.

  He might lose his membership at the club, but he didn't care. He might lose a few so-called friends who weren't really friends at all. He didn't care about that, either. The foundation had enough money to run for years, even if it never got another donation. But he also knew there was an untapped source of donations out there, the young dot com millionaires who weren't born to wealth and who'd never been accepted into the ranks of the socially elite. Reggie would charm their socks off.

  Just like she'd done with him.

  Now, he needed to figure out how to charm her back.

  And for that, he needed to talk to Cara.

  ***

  Cara curled up against Gray's side, her feet tucked under her on the couch. "Well, it worked" she said. "Sam wanted my advice on how to tell Reggie that he's in love with her."

  He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer. "So, what did you tell him?"

  "I told him to do exactly what you did. To overwhelm her with something so over the top that she'd have to pay attention."

  Gray looked down at her, eyes wide. "Oh God, you didn't."

  "What? It worked for me."

  "But this is Sam we're talking about, the man who has more money than all the oil men in Texas. There's no telling what he'll do."

  Cara grinned. "Then you'd better go find out what he's got planned." She ran one hand up his leg. "But don't be gone too long."

  Gray kissed her, hard. "Save my place. I'll be right back."

  He found Sam where Cara said she'd left him--standing by the edge of the pool, staring into the water as though it held the answer to all his questions. Sam looked up when Gray approached.

  "I guess Cara told you."

  "Yep."

  "And you're here to talk me out of it?"

  "Nope."

  "I sure hope you had more than one word answers when you were trying to seduce Cara." Sam rubbed his forehead. "I'm giving myself a headache trying to come up with some way to let her know I'm in love with her, but I've never been in love before. I have no idea what to do."

  Gray tried to come up with an idea, but he drew a blank. "I have no idea either. With Cara, I just tried to think of the one thing she probably wanted more than anything else, the one thing missing from her life. You know her family history. The men in her mother and sister's lives were selfish bastards, only looking for their own pleasure and then leaving when the going got tough. I think that's why she started Satisfaction Guaranteed, to give herself the illusion that romance still existed, that there were men out there who believed in it. So romance was what I gave her."

  "But I have no idea what Reggie wants, what's missing from her life. How will I find out?"

  "There's only one thing I know of that Reggie's always wanted," Gray said.

  "And that is?"

  "You, Sam. Just you."

  Sam looked at him, confusion wrinkling his brow.

  Gray sighed. "She's been in love with you since the third grade, man. She's never stopped. I don't think she's looking for grand gestures. She just wants to know you love her."

  "You really think it's that simple?"

  Gray nodded. "Yeah, I do. Just be sincere, tell her you love her. Save the grand gestures for later. Now, I have a woman saving my place, who told me to hurry back. Think you can handle it from here?"

  Sam nodded. "Yeah, I think I can." He shook Gray's hand. "Thank you. And thank Cara for me." Then he walked away, whistling quietly.

  ***

  Gray didn't think Sam needed a grand gesture, but something Reggie had said kept running through Sam's mind. She wanted the happily ever after. He'd had to ask Cara to explain that to him because he'd never been much of a reader of fairy tales and he'd never seen a Disney movie. But he'd gone online and downloaded a few stories Cara had named as examples of the happily ever after Reggie wanted, and he'd read them all. They seemed a bit sappy, but they all had one theme in common: Two people, usually opposites on the financial scale, fall in love despite all odds.

  So, okay, they were doing fine on that score. Then usually the guy had to search high and low to find her after losing her. Well, he knew right where she was, so that was out. And then the guy had to risk his life to save her. Heaven forbid it should come to that. He would gladly risk his life to save hers, but he didn't want to put her in danger. So what else could he do?

  Maybe Gray was right. Maybe all he needed to do was tell her.

  And maybe Cara was
right. He needed something big to convince her.

  He had an idea, but it would take a couple of days to get it done. In the meantime, he could show her in small ways. He'd start with arranging for a single red rose to be delivered to her suite twice a day. Then he'd order a late night dinner for one, complete with a fine wine and a decadent dessert. Just for her. He would wait until she invited him to join her before presuming to order for two.

  Then all he had to do was wait until he received what he needed for phase two.

  ***

  Reggie was staring into the small refrigerator to see if she could find something to snack on rather than getting dressed for dinner when someone knocked on the door. She opened it find a steward with a wheeled tray.

  "Dinner, Miss Baker."

  "But I didn't order room service."

  "It is courtesy of Mr. Hyatt. Shall I put it on the table or would you like to eat on the balcony? It's a beautiful night."

  Sam sent her dinner? How sweet was that? "Oh, on the balcony please."

  He placed a covered plate on the patio table, then added eating utensils, a glass of water and a small bottle of wine. Last he placed a piece of seven layer chocolate cake and a single red rose near her plate.

  She watched, stunned, as he placed a napkin, folded to look like a swan, on the table with a flourish. "Thank you." She went to get a tip out of her purse, but he shook his head.

  "It's all been taken care of. Enjoy your meal." With that, he left silently, closing the door behind him.

  She settled into a chair facing the ocean and removed the lid from the tray. Sam had ordered filet mignon, steamed asparagus, au gratin potatoes, and roasted mushrooms. It looked and smelled wonderful. And she'd gone from mildly hungry to ravenous--not just for the food, but for Sam as well.

  A second rose was delivered the next morning. A third when they returned to the ship the next afternoon after a day of sightseeing in Glasgow. The three now resided in a pretty vase on the table where she could stop to smell their heady scent as she passed through the room.

  It was their second formal night, so she'd spent the past hour in the salon getting her hair and nails done. She pulled the white and black dress from the closet and laid it on the bed before putting on her makeup. Then she pulled out the black lacy bra and thong she'd brought along, just in case. She and Sam had a movie date after dinner, and she had plans to ditch the movie and ravish Sam instead.

  The time at dinner seemed to drag on forever. Sam couldn't seem to lift his gaze above her chest, and Reggie barely tasted her meal as she heated from the inside out. Who knew something as simple as inspiring lust in a man could ignite her own lust as well? As soon as the last dish had been cleared, they made their excuses and hurried out of the restaurant.

  They arrived at her suite and Reggie led him inside. "Just give me a few minutes to change, and I'll be ready to go."

  "No hurry," Sam said. "The movie is right here, on your TV."

  She turned slowly. "Here? Not out at the theater?"

  He nodded. "We're having a private showing of an old classic."

  Reggie smiled. A night in, just the two of them. The perfect date. "In that case, I'll be even quicker."

  "Not too quick, I hope," Sam said with a wicked grin.

  She changed into shorts and a clingy T-shirt, leaving her feet bare. She made quick work of brushing her teeth and refreshing her perfume. Then she took a deep breath and walked back into the room to find Sam had removed his jacket and tie, unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, and kicked off his shoes. He looked just like he had the night they'd gone bowling--all sexy male with a touch of mysterious allure.

  As soon as she entered the room, he hit the remote control and the familiar Disney logo came on the screen. "A Disney movie?" She'd thought he'd have come up with the newest release, maybe even something that hadn't actually been released yet. Instead, he'd brought Cinderella. One of her favorites, yes, but totally unexpected.

  "You said you liked happily ever afters. I figured this qualified."

  "Yes, but…"

  He took her hand and drew her down on the couch beside him. "I've never seen a Disney movie, did you know that? My mother wouldn't allow them in the house. She thought they were plebian, I think she called it."

  Reggie laughed. "Oh my. I guess they are, in a way. But I love them."

  Sam lowered the lights, put his arm around her shoulder, and handed her a glass of champagne. He clinked his glass to hers and said, "To happily ever after."

  All through the movie, Reggie's mind raced. Was he trying to tell her he now wanted the same thing? That he wanted her to be part of his happily ever after? Or was she reading too much into this? She didn't want to send out the wrong signals again, but this time she was willing to take him on his terms. If that meant a one-night stand, so be it. She would find a way to survive it.

  Sam watched the movie intently, as though he was trying to learn something from it, or memorize it. Reggie had hoped for a little less attention to the screen and a little more action. But Sam kept her entertained with questions about why this happened, how that was possible, why hadn't someone killed that step-mother long ago? She didn't have the heart to tell him the wicked step-mother had always reminded her of his own mother.

  The final scene started, where the prince went out with the glass slipper to find Cinderella, and Sam paused the movie. "I'll be right back."

  "Sam? Where are you going?" But he was already gone.

  He returned a couple of minutes later, carrying a box.

  "What's in there?" She reached for it, but he tucked it under the couch and pulled her into his lap.

  "Shhh, the movie's back on. Now pay very, very close attention."

  "I don't need to. I've seen this movie a hundred times."

  He kissed her neck. "Not this version, you haven't."

  When the Prince finally found Cinderella and watched as the Prime Minister knelt to put the slipper on her foot, Sam reached under the couch, fished around for a few seconds, and pulled something out. Then he took her foot in his hand and slipped a shoe--a glass shoe by the feel of it--onto her foot. "Now, listen carefully," he said.

  Reggie was feeling a bit dazed and confused, but she did as he asked. And instead of the familiar post-wedding scene that should come next, Sam appeared and looked right at the camera. He said, "Reggie, I've been a fool all these years. I tried so hard to please my parents that I neglected the most precious thing in my life--my friends. And I tried to be a good son and look for a woman who would make my mother proud. She would have been proud of Beebe, but I would have been miserable. Do you think you could forgive me and learn to love me as much as I love you? Because I want you to make your happily ever after come true."

  Reggie sat there, stunned. She hadn't thought anything could top what Gray had done for Cara, but somehow Sam had managed it. Yes, it was sappy, but it was just what she needed to convince her he was sincere.

  A tear rolled down her cheek and splashed onto his hand. "Reggie, are you crying? Did I do something wrong?"

  She sniffed and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his mouth to hers. "No, Sam," she murmured against his lips. "You did everything just right."

  The kiss started out sweet, but quickly became a heated imitation of what her body wanted. Damn, Sam knew how to kiss. No chaste meeting of the lips for him. His tongue wrapped around hers as he sucked deeply, drawing her tongue into his mouth. Then his was running along her teeth, her palate, wrapping around her tongue to draw her back again.

  Reggie barely registered the loss of her clothes. She was too busy trying to rip his off. He was going to need a new formal wardrobe before this trip ended. She finally managed to get his shirt unbuttoned, tugging it loose from his slacks. She was temporarily blinded as he pulled her T-shirt over her head, then turned on the lights with the remote control so he could see what he'd uncovered.

  She heard his quick intake of breath seconds before his warm mouth closed over
her breast, lace and all. The sensation of the wet lace rubbing against her nipple sent her nerve endings into overdrive and she ground her groin against his, rubbing back and forth, faster and faster, as the climax built. Before she could find that sweet release, he lifted her hips and set her aside on the couch.

  She whimpered, but he wasn't through. He stood and fished a handful of condoms from his pocket, kicked off his pants, and lifted her to carry her to the bed. She kissed his neck and nibbled his ear along the way. Sam pulled the covers back and laid her on the bed, following her down until his hard body completely covered hers from chest to toes.

  "Reggie," he breathed into her ear.

  "Hmmm?"

  But he didn't say anything else. He ran his tongue across her shoulder blade, down the inside of her arm, and across her belly. He lifted himself just far enough to pull her thong to her knees before he continued the torture down the inside of her thigh and back up again. He gave the other side of her body the same loving attention before reaching behind her to release the clasp on her bra. "I almost hate having to take this thing off. It's pretty damned sexy." Then he tossed it aside and gave her aching breasts their fair share of attention.

  Reggie pulled his briefs as far down as she could reach, then used her feet to push them to his ankles. Doing that brought their bodies into such close proximity she thought he was going to complete the act without the condom. But no, Sam was the epitome of responsibility.

  With ragged breaths echoing through the room, he pulled himself away long enough to roll the condom down his long, hard length and to strip her panties off her legs. Then he nudged her knees farther apart and settled between her legs. Just when she thought she'd finally, finally, feel him inside her, he slid down the bed to bury his face between her legs.

  Oh God. Oh my God. Where had he learned to do that? Somehow she just couldn't imagine Beebe on the other end of that kind of attention. But he was a master, using his tongue like a rosined bow against the strings of a fine violin. Up and down with smooth, even strokes, broken up occasionally with faster sideways movement, then up and down again. This time when the tension built to a volcanic level, he gave her that final stroke to send her over the edge.