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Chapter Six

Sam sat with Eric on a bench just up a way from the business of the port. James had texted her that his cab had gotten stuck in traffic. Eric hadn’t wanted her to wait alone so he, like a brother, talked her ear off to calm her nerves. She appreciated the gesture.

“So, you landed on James, to call Mr. Dark and Sexy?” Eric asked.

“Yes. We texted about it at length last night. Jaws is cute and all, but I just can’t call the man I’m sleeping with and long-distance dating, I guess, the same name as a shark in some horror movie. His family calls him James and calls his father Alexander. Gotta be hard when you have three generations with the same name and you don’t do nicknames. I like James. Something about it suits him for me,” she shared, her eyes averted, intent on roaming the road and looking into every cab for his face.

Butterflies did more than flutter in her stomach. They were waging an all out war.

“Seriously, Eric, it terrifies me how desperate I am to see him at this moment.” She sucked in a deep breath, though not in the relaxing way she’d been trained to.

“It’s okay to fall for someone, Sam,” he said, his arm suddenly around her shoulders.

He hugged her fiercely for a second and then kissed the top of her head.

“What am I doing? All he talks about is me coming to stay with him during my eight-week vacation, and I know he hopes that will end up a permanent thing. Am I ready to live in one town for years?” she asked, attempting to swallow despite the dryness in her throat.

“Mr. Rich and Mysterious could be your next great adventure. And, with you, lady, if it doesn’t work out, you just move on to the next thing, the next place that catches your eye. My fear is, though, that if you skip this opportunity, you’ll either regret it the rest of your life, or he will just flat out kidnap you for life.” He chuckled, lifting her chin to look at him.

She punched him in the arm, none too softly, apparently, as her knuckles kind of smarted. She smiled at him, though, and then went back to her cab search. It was like playing
where the hell is Waldo
, though no fun at all.

“Listen, Sam, seriously, I’ve never seen you like this. I may not have known you all your life, but as much as we’re stuck together and talking I feel like I've gotten to know you pretty well, and I’d venture to say no man has ever made you feel like this. You have to give it a try, right? There is no timetable when it comes to the heart. It wants what it wants, when it wants it. Need I remind you, my dad’s sister met her husband the last day of a vacation? They talked on the phone, visited once, and were married three months later.”

“So you’ve said.” She nodded. “I got it. Just go with it. He’s something. He really is. I know it’s just texts but it’s endless texts. I’ve bared my soul to this man these last weeks, and I think he’s done the same. The more I learn about him, the more I can find nothing, okay, well hardly anything, to dislike. He’s brilliant, creative, healthy, caring, and sexy as nothing I’ve ever seen before. And he wants me. Me!”

“Why do I still hear the hint of a problem in your voice, then?” Eric sighed. “If it’s just the life he comes from, as foreign as it is to you, you’ll adapt, do fine. And, from what you’ve told me, he loves you because you won’t fit in there,” he said, his arm back around her shoulders, rocking her from side to side.

“If that was your idea of a pep talk, you can just go away now, thanks,” she grumbled.

Before he could retort, she jumped up as she saw a wave of long, black curls in the back of a cab. She waited as the car circled around the loop and then stopped where she stood on the street.

Eric gave her a pat on the back and she jumped into the cab, blowing her friend a kiss of thanks as she fell into James’ arms. From that moment on the day was a whirlwind of romance. She’d known he would pull out all the stops. It was what he knew, as much as he hated the whole lifestyle. It had its perks.

He had rose petals trailed from the door of their suite to the bed and some in the Jacuzzi that sat on their private balcony. True to his word, though, they fit everything into one day. First, he took her out shopping a bit before they had a light lunch at some place on the water. They frolicked in the ocean and talked endlessly as they lounged on beach, towels lain on the warm sand.

While they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, they went back to the hotel, showered, separately at his insistence, and went out to some fancy, not ultra-rich but romantic, dinner. They shared a candlelit table for two with wine and seafood. Afterward, a little tipsy, he took her back to the room and romanced her, seduced her, nothing like the two previous sexual encounters they’d had.

With slow kisses, he undressed her in a passionate way. With tender presses of his lips against her skin, he often stopped to just touch and stare at her face, her neck, her breasts, her stomach, and so on until every inch of her became bare to him. She wanted the same opportunity, and he reclined back on the bed and let her. His mouth moved from serious to smiling and back again as she went, appreciating each perfect inch of him, in her eyes anyway.

Tonight, she got the opportunity to really explore the dragon on his back, the muscles in his ass, the ripples of his chest and the lines of his face. They made love, unrushed despite her nine o’clock time to be back on board. He moved inside her slowly, drawing out each orgasm to a long, deep rhythm of contractions and releases. On the pill, this time she asked him to forgo the condom. She trusted him and wanted to feel him skin to skin inside her.

With only an hour left, they lounged on the bed, her head on his chest, their legs and arms entwined, often scooting just a bit to make sure every inch of them that could touched. He played with her hair, quiet now, his kisses, on her forehead, her eyes, and her cheeks, coming minutes apart. She heard his breathing hitch and looked up into his dark eyes.

****

“Samantha Elizabeth Downing, forgive me for telling the truth so soon but, I love you. I won’t deny it, not to myself, and not to you. Please, I’m begging you, because I don’t know how I’ll survive the next month. Please say that during your vacation you will come stay with me. Give me a chance, all expenses paid. You can be as independent as you want, explore the city or get a job while I’m at work. Just
be
with me. Go out on normal dates with me. Get to know everything about me. You don’t make me want to hide anything, don’t make me feel the need. Even if you don’t get it, don’t like it, you don’t stand in judgment, and where I come from it's almost unheard of not to be constantly measured and commented on,” he said, punctuating his sentences with kisses, caressing her with each word spoken.

“I feel the same around you. But the life you come from scares me. I won’t fit in there. ” She sighed.

“I’ll help you, but only to make you comfortable because you know I don’t care. And I would never use you in any way with them. I’d be proud to have you on my arm, no games, no pretenses,” he promised.

“I know, and I think I can do that. I’ll call it an adventure into the treacherous jungle of the rich and entitled.” She laughed softly. “I will. I’ll come. We can work out the details through texts and phone calls.”

Their time coming to a close, he at least relaxed in the fact he’d made her agree to come live with him in a month. He felt both a lightness and a weight as he took her back to the ship. Damn cruises.

Chapter Seven

A month later Sam sat rigid in a cab, making a frail attempt at meditative breathing as the driver brought her closer to James’ parents’ estate. He had a must-go-to party today, for them, for appearances. So, their plan had been for her to meet him there, coming straight from the airport. Then, he’d put all her stuff in his car, and whisk her away to his place.

All doubts had fled about whether spending the next eight weeks with him was the right thing to do after their time in Miami, as well as their endless texts and phone calls over the last month of her current contract on the cruise ship. She loved him, and he her, and that was all there was to it.

Sure, there would be things to iron out living together but they were both determined, despite their differences, to give their hearts a shot at what they both wanted so desperately. Still, speeding sixty-five miles per hour on the way to what she could only describe as a mansion, to some well-to-do party, even if she didn’t have to attend, did nothing to calm her nerves. She had no idea of that lifestyle outside of movies, which she could be assured didn’t truly represent the reality of it all.

She tried to think of it as another great adventure, but somehow wild animals in the tundra would have been exciting, whereas the rich parents of her boyfriend made her feel like prey that could, at any time, be socially eaten alive. She’d never had a care in the world as to what people thought of her. Her own woman always, but somehow her heart made these people’s opinion of her matter way too much. She prayed she wouldn’t have to meet them today, that she could simply slip in, find James, and slip out.

Her hand rubbed over her neck. New, a splurge from one of the shops on the ship, her dress had a semi-revealing neckline. She fretted that maybe too much boob showed. Silver, with an asymmetrical hemline and a few sequins, she hoped it would be fancy enough with the matching heels and handbag, as well as some jewelry. This was a costume she wasn’t used to but with her long, blond hair in an up do, and some freshening up after the plane ride, at least she felt good about her appearance.

The driver pulled up at the closed iron gate. She stepped out into the mild heat of a sunny day in late September, in New York. As instructed, she pushed a button and announced herself so the man who answered would get James so he could bring his car down and unload the cab of her meager belongings from the ship. With her finger poised over the button, she heard the sound of voices, many voices. She peered around the gate, careful not to touch the thing, in case it had some fancy alarm or something as who knew how this worked. Maybe she’d just watched too many movies where the rich were being attacked for one reason or another.

In the distance, she could see the party, the whole side-yard filled with people holding crystal with drink and fancy food. Like a spy, she moved to the side, out of their view, so she could get a good look at them, but not before shooting the cab driver a warning glare not to judge her, and with a finger to her lips to shush him. Even though, what did he care with his meter running?

Her eyes narrowed. She let her mind do the stupid thing and compared her dress to the others she saw. James caught her gaze, all dressed up and looking much his role as James Alexander Whitmore III. This his casual dress clothes, she guessed his pony tail his only rebellion. Yet, he appeared draped in a woman wearing a white, sequined gown of sorts.

Not that she was an expert on clothing, but the chick looked over-dressed for even this sort of party. Backyard, yes, but barbeque, no. This was a catered event, a hobnobbing of potential clients. James had briefly provided her with a description, important for his father to look like a family man as well as determined, controlled, and the gracious host as he talked up his company of current and potential clients.

An odd wave of panic hit her. A foreign emotion, almost unidentifiable to one who thrived on new experiences, an adrenaline junkie for sure. Her heart screamed that too much was at stake, she needed some sort of training or something, a dummies book on cocktail parties of the rich and famous, before making a poor showing and blowing her chance to make a good impression on his parents.

He’d avoided the topic, but she had no idea what kind of information on her background Mr. and Mrs. Whitmore had received from James. In a panic she didn’t quite comprehend, she got back in the cab and instructed the man to take her back into the city. After some brief talk, the cabbie dropped her outside a coffee shop with her two large bags, thankfully on wheels, and three small bags in a neat stack beside her.

She picked a table, stashed her embarrassing array of stuff between the table and the wall, and ordered. Her phone rang, and she ignored it, her face already red, not knowing how to explain her pathetic actions. She took some time over coffee and a bagel to berate herself for her lack of courage in the face of difference. Her heart the culprit, vulnerable like it’d never been before, she talked herself around as her phone went off for the second time in twenty minutes.

She grabbed a book she’d been reading on the plane out of one of her bags, and tried to distract herself back into her thriller, back to where psychos killed what got in their way in the most gruesome of ways. Time passed slowly. Her stomach had really had enough as she sipped and sipped with nowhere to go.

Finally, sanity won out. Not wanting him to worry, she answered her phone the next time it rang five minutes later.

“Where the hell are you,” the voice on the other line grumbled.

“New York. Some coffee house,” she answered quietly.

“Why? And why didn’t you call me? You were supposed to come straight here. I was getting worried,” he fumed.

“I did come straight there, and then I left. Look, I feel stupid enough, so no comment, no need to make me feel more pathetic than I already do. I left. I looked in and left. I’m sorry, but I need to know more before I make some bad impression on your parents. It’s important to me if we have any chance at all of making this work. Claim my plane was delayed or something. I can meet you at your place once you get home.” she filled him in, angry at herself, now, once she had to explain her actions.

Fearless. She’d always been. They were just people. They could take her or leave her, but James had become important to her in a very short time and she didn't want to make his life harder. She wanted to make it better. Ridiculous. She felt like a schoolgirl afraid of the in crowd.

“No, I shouldn’t have asked you to come here. I’ll come get you. You are far more important to me than making a good show at this party. My fault. I wanted to show you off. But we need time to ourselves first. I’ll make an excuse and be on my way. Where are you at?”

“No idea. Let me just catch a cab to your place. Stay a bit longer. I’m sure I can order another cup of coffee and kill another hour here. We will see each other soon enough, and for long enough, you may just get sick of me.” She forced out a curt laugh, her heart thumping in her chest from the mere thoughts of the future.

“I’ll cut out, tell her I just can’t handle the wait now that you have been delayed, and just disappear. I’ve been here a few hours already. They can go on to their friends about how cute it is how in love I am. It works for us all. Meet me one hour from now. You are just a cab ride from my apartment in the city, wherever you are. Text me when you get into the cab, okay?” he said, sounding breathless.

It reminded her of their times together, him breathing hard after making love or being more adventurous in bed.

“I can’t wait to sleep in your arms tonight, knowing I have nowhere to go, nowhere to be but with you.” She sighed.

“Me, either. A whole Sunday together too, then you’ll be there every day when I get home. I can’t believe the time is finally here. I love you, Sam. See you soon.”