by Jill Sanders
Everyone he knew and everyone she had known, had been in downtown Denver, celebrating her lead role in a play. It was opening night and it had been a huge success. So huge that she’d been called back seven times for curtain call. She’d been the belle of the ball.
After, Aiden had invited him along with some friends to go out and celebrate. He should have said no. But his friend was having none of it. They ended up getting a limo and hopping from club to club. At one point, Amber and he had been separated from the group. They’d ended up in a back booth at a club, talking while everyone else drank and danced.
He remembered that Amber hadn’t drank much. She hadn’t been twenty-one yet, but her friends had bought her a drink— he’d actually only seen her milking the one drink the entire time. For his part, he’d downed two beers and had been sipping his third one slowly.
She’d worn this sexy red top that had no back to it. Like at all. There was almost a foot of snow outside, and her entire back was exposed to the chill. The small leather skirt she had on barely covered anything more. Her red, heeled boots looked sexy as hell, but he’d had to help her through the snow several times. She’d only laughed and clung to him, making him wonder if she’d dressed like that on purpose. Just for him.
They sat in the back booth, talking about her hopes and dreams; then she’d asked him about his. Maybe it had been the beer talking, but he’d opened up to her that night. He told her how he had wanted more than anything to settle down, raise a handful of kids, and enjoy growing old with someone. He’d been a complete dork.
But instead of laughing at him, she’d bitten her bottom lip and looked at him with those sexy blue eyes like she totally understood.
When everyone started heading out on their own, somehow he’d been talked into taking Amber home. Then, when they’d entered the cab, somehow she’d ended up in his lap, plastered to him as he barked out his own address instead of hers to the cab driver.
His hands had roamed over every inch of her sexy body, warming her cool skin with his until just the touch of her burned him. They hadn’t come up for air until he’d felt the car stop moving.
Then his mind had cleared. For only a moment. Until she’d pushed those perfect breasts in his face and purred to take her upstairs. His stupid body had complied, leaving his mind outside in the snow.
Still, it was he who led her inside his place. He who slowly peeled those sexy clothes from her body. He who had enjoyed running his hands over every part of her soft skin. Until she’d clawed him, pulling him closer as she wrapped her body around his.
He lay in his bed now and grew hard just remembering the smell of her in his bed. Her sweet scent had lasted for days, until he’d finally had to toss his sheets into the wash. He closed his eyes now and remembered how having her in his bed felt.
He’d guessed she’d been a virgin, so he was thankful his mind had cleared enough to slow down. To take the time to warm her up, until she’d screamed his name several times as his mouth had covered her sweet pussy, his fingers buried deep inside her warmth. When he’d finally taken her, she’d only moaned his name as he’d entered her.
He groaned remembering how that next morning he’d woken with her wrapped around him. Gloriously naked, lying half on him. Her soft legs had been draped over his. She’d woken him with kisses and they had ended up making love once again before reality snuck up on him.
He’d quickly apologized and rushed into a lecture of how it was a mistake. How it couldn’t go on. How they had to keep it a secret. Which was the easiest part of letting her go that morning.
Without knowing it, he was touching himself now, thinking about how sweet she’d felt. How much he wanted her again. He’d been in several serious relationships. The last being Terra, and he’d been devastated when he’d found the text messages that she’d been cheating on him the week before their wedding date. But not as devastated as when he’d watched Amber get onto that plane two years ago.
There was no way in hell he was ever going to tell Aiden what they had done.
He rolled out of bed and decided a cold shower was just what he needed. When he stepped out of the shower, his cell phone rang and he almost slipped on the wet tile to grab it in time. Seeing the name, he groaned slightly.
“Hello, Gran.” He leaned back against the countertop and wondered what it would be today.
“There you are, son.” His grandmother’s voice almost echoed in his ear. The woman wasn’t deaf, but spoke loudly enough on the phone to wake the dead. Something he’d always noticed about her. Maybe after all these centuries, she still wasn’t used to talking over the phone. “I heard our girl is back in town.” His heart skipped at the mention of Amber. His gran had always had a soft spot for Amber. “So my question is to you—why wasn’t I invited to the party last night?”
His chin dropped. “How did you?” he started, only stopping when his gran’s laughter interrupted him.
“Haven’t seen the morning paper yet have you?”
He shook his head, then sighed. “Nope, not yet.” He walked—towel wrapped around his waist—and opened his front door, then pulled the paper inside, and shut the door to the morning chill.
“Well, I’ll let you enjoy reading the article. Next time, invite an old woman along. Oh, and Tommy, I’ll see you for lunch today.”
“Yes, Gran.” He hung up and flipped open the paper and gasped. There, on the cover of the paper were he and Amber, snuggling together on the back-porch swing. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have sworn they were moments away from kissing. The headline read, “Who is Amber Scott’s new beau?”
Chapter 3
Her scalp was burning and her eyes watering so much she was sure her mascara was rolling down her cheeks. Still, the heat from the dryer helped cool the burning somehow. She flipped another page of a magazine and saw yet another image of herself on its pages. Tossing it, she picked up her cell phone and decided a game of Angry Birds was just what she needed. Spending the next fifteen minutes flinging small birds into the air helped calm her.
It was normal having her picture in the paper, but she’d never had someone stalk her and snap a picture of her in a private moment. Especially one with Tom.
She closed her eyes just as she felt her phone vibrate in her hands. Glancing at the screen, she smiled at a message from Barbara. She’d met Barbara shortly after she’d started filming Unique Designs. She’d been invited to a Christmas dinner party thrown by Marcus and had run into the woman, who had quickly become one of her best friends in California.
Barbara was almost her complete opposite in not only looks, but in everything else. Barbara had a wonderful talent in the kitchen that rivaled that of the best chef. Amber usually burned toast. Barbara had shorter, thick red hair of which even Amber was jealous. The woman was warm and friendly to everyone she came across. Amber was, at the time, too shy and intimidated to be considered friendly to most.
Barbara helped her feel more welcome than even Marcus had. Actually, it was because of her friendship with Barbara that allowed for her and Marcus to get so close.
“Did you get my surprise?”
“Yes, OMG, I can’t believe you had them delivered! Thank you!”
Just that morning a basket with chocolate and salted caramel parfaits had been delivered. Her favorite Barbara-designed dessert. She’d been in pure heaven.
“How’s it going?”
“Getting my hair dyed.”
“Red?”
“Ha ha, nope, blonder.”
“Too bad—someday you’ll join us gingers.”
“Red would wash my skin tones out, or so George, my current hair designer tells me.”
“Everyone here says hi.”
“Hi back. Tell Ramon I bought him a new tie.”
“He’ll love it.”
“Gotta go—George is coming over and I think it’s time he took off the tinfoil so I don’t start picking up alien chatter.”
“Ha ha, okay, love ya, sweetie.�
��
“Bye.”
She set her phone down as a very sour-looking George walked over to her. For the next hour, her hair was washed, conditioned, and styled. She always felt content after having her hair done and decided to head back to the condo to finish off the last of the parfait she’d saved.
When she stepped out, however, she was bombarded with camera flashes and a million questions.
“Who’s your new mystery man?” someone yelled as she raced towards her rental. She hadn’t had time to decide if the media should know about Tom yet or not. Not until she talked to Tom himself.
So instead of heading home, she flipped around and headed towards Albert’s Furniture store, the flagship building. The store Tom’s grandfather had built and named after himself. She knew Tom had an office there and, unless things had changed in the past two years, she guessed he would be there at this time of day.
When she pulled into the parking lot, she had second thoughts about going inside. She sat in her car for so long, she wondered if she would have the nerve. Just as she was about to reach for the door handle, a knock on her window made her jump.
Tom smiled down at her, his eyebrows raised slightly. “Were you going to sit in the car all day?” he asked through the glass.
“No,” she said back, then sighed and pushed the door open. He reached a hand in and helped her out. She felt her hand shake when their skin touched. “I was”—she looked for any excuse, but came up with nothing, so shut her mouth instead.
“Debating to come in and face the music?” he suggested, tucking his hands into his slacks.
She nodded quickly. “I don’t know how ...” She raised her chin. “Obviously there was a leak ...”
He smiled. “Come on in.” He nodded towards the store. “We can talk in my office.”
She followed him inside. But instead of following him up to the office, she stopped at the beautiful sofa and ran her fingers over the material. “Wow, where did this come from?”
“Italy.” He watched her sit down on the soft leather.
“How much?” She glanced up at him.
“Ten grand,” he said after looking up the price. “There’s a chair and table that match.” Then his eyes narrowed at her. “Aren’t you renting?”
She shrugged, not answering him. “Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy having something wonderful to sit on while I’m here.” She ran her hand over the leather again. Then nodded. “Can you have the old one hauled away?”
“We can put it in storage until you’re done.”
“Done?” She shook her head. “I have full rights to replace anything in the condo.”
He shrugged. “It’s up to you.”
She smiled and got up. Then motioned for him to lead the way up to his office. Even though she knew exactly where it was and had been in it more times than she could count.
Once inside his office, she moved over and sat in one of the high-back leather chairs directly across from his grandfather’s—then his father’s and now his—larger desk. He shut the door behind him, then instead of sitting behind the massive desk, stopped in front of her and leaned against the front of it.
“I bet that happens to you a lot.”
She sighed and leaned back, crossing her arms over her lap. “More than I care to count.”
“I like your hair,” he said, his eyes roaming over her. She felt her body heat everywhere his eyes focused.
“Thanks, it’s for the part.”
He nodded slightly. “So, what usually happens?”
She arched her eyebrows at his question.
“How long before it dies down?”
She shook her head slightly. She’d been so caught up in his blue eyes that she’d forgotten about what they had been talking.
He chuckled lightly. “The paper?” He reached behind him and held up the front page. The image of them on the cover. It had been a whole day since she’d seen the cover. Standing, she moved over and took the paper from him, and walked to the window as she scanned the image. It was a really great picture of him. Of them.
“That’s why I’m here.” She turned and held it up for him. “They won’t stop until they find out who you are. I’m surprised they haven’t already figured it out.”
He nodded quickly. “I’ve started receiving calls already.”
“From?”
“The magazines. Wanting an exclusive on ... our relationship.” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, messing up the blond tresses.
“And?” She waited.
“I told them you were an old family friend,” he said.
She chuckled, then tapped his paper. “Does that look like we are just old family friends?”
She leaned against his desk, next to him. His eyes were on the image and she heard him sigh.
“No,” she thought he said softly.
“So, where do we go from here?” she asked as their shoulders brushed. At the light touch, he jerked away and started pacing.
“Nowhere.” He tossed the paper down into a chair. Then stopped and looked at her. “Have you talked to Aiden?”
Her eyebrows rose. “Why would I?”
He glanced over at the paper again.
“He wasn’t in the shot,” she reminded him, causing him to roll his eyes at her. “Nor does he have anything to do with my private life.” She moved closer to him until she was a breath away.
His hands moved up to her shoulders, holding her a few steps away from him. “I’m not up for playtime,” he warned.
“Who said I was?”
Once again, he looked towards the paper. She’d read the article. The man who’d written it was one of the worst. He’d done nothing but try to tear her career and her life down since she’d stepped foot in California. She’d never met the guy personally and had given up wondering why he had a grudge out for her shortly after the tenth article he’d published defaming her. After all, it was the man’s job to make stuff up about the rich and the famous. Shouldn’t she count herself lucky that she was now in that status?
“Don’t believe everything you read.” It came out as a whisper. “You’ve known me long enough. Do you believe everything that’s been printed about me?”
He sighed and once again, ran his fingers through his hair. Then shook his head. Their eyes met and she moved closer since he’d dropped his hands.
“Tom, I don’t play games,” she said, taking another step.
Her heartbeat almost drowned out his response— “Neither do I”—before his hands pulled her closer and his lips were on hers.
What the hell was he doing? He started to push back, but her fingers were tangled in his hair, holding him to her sweet mouth. Just the taste of her was driving him crazy. Then her body pushed against his and he lost the ability to think. His hands pulled her closer as they traveled over those sexy hips of hers. Her perfect breasts pushed up against his chest and could almost feel each beat of her heart against his own. All of his blood drained into his pants, causing him to jerk and push closer. Then he was pushing her against his desk. He heard a couple things hit the floor and roll around, but didn’t stop—until his hands moved and pushed fabric—until he felt soft skin.
She moaned into his mouth and rolled her head back, exposing her long neck for his taste. Just as he was pushing her shirt up, and getting ready to yank it over her head, he heard footsteps outside his door and pulled back just as a knock sounded.
Taking a few quick breaths, he called out to hang on a moment. His eyes met hers and he could tell she was trying to get herself back in control like he was.
“Sit,” he said softly, then walked around the desk and sat down himself, mostly to hide what she’d done to him from whoever was interrupting them.
“Come in,” he said, picking up a stack of papers. Then his chin dropped as Aiden walked in.
Amber’s brother took one look at his sister in the chair across from him and Tom watched his friends eyes narrow.
“Amber,” Aiden s
aid, tilting his head. “I guess I should have expected you to be here.” He tossed another paper down onto Tom’s desk and Tom felt his heart kick up for another reason.
Before he had a chance to explain, Amber jumped up from her spot and leaned against his desk. “Tom and I were just discussing our next step.”
“Your”—his eyes went between them— “next step?” Aiden ran his hands through his hair, much like Tom had just done. It was a habit the friends had shared since childhood. Tom knew exactly what the motion meant. Jumping up himself, he moved around the desk and held out his hands.
“You were there—” he started to say, only to come up short when Aiden’s fist connected to his jaw. Amber screamed and flung herself at her brother. There was one thing he could say about Amber—she knew how to fight back.
She pushed Aiden until he was back against the wall. She knew, of course, that Aiden would never lift a finger to any woman, especially not his sister. “He had no right. Is the article true?”
Tom cringed. If Aiden believed everything in the paper, then he was doomed.
“No”—it was Amber who spoke— “that jerk Ryder Sterlington has had it out for me since I stepped foot in Hollywood. He’s been printing lies about me. He actually wrote one piece that said I had a child while I was in Canada shooting my last movie.” She laughed, and Tom could see Aiden relax slightly.
Then he shifted his gaze to Tom’s eyes. “I’m sorry, man.”
Tom wiped his lip and smiled when his fingers came away clean. “It’s okay—you still punch like a pussy.”
Aiden smiled.
“Maybe you should get your little sister to teach you a thing or two.” He turned to her and smiled. “I’ve seen your moves—in that last movie.” He faked a cringe. “Scary.”
Aiden laughed and then wrapped an arm around his sister’s shoulders. “If there was something”—his eyes moved between them again— “between you two. I expect more class than that dribble.” He nodded towards the paper. “And I expect not to hear about it in the paper or a magazine cover plastered all over the place.”
