Her Prince Charming: An Inspirational Romance (16 page)

S
ara looked so fragile
, her eyes closed, lashes dark against her pale cheeks. This was my fault. I’d meant what I’d said to Ryan. He’d made the decision not to have Greg arrested on his own, true. But if he’d called me, I would have told him to do exactly the same thing. Vermin like Greg always had enough for bail. A few hours in prison wasn’t enough of a price to pay for hurting Sara.

I hated the idea that my vengeance had left him free to take even more from her than he already had. If I’d had him arrested he might have done the same thing as soon as he was out on bail. Or maybe a few hours in jail would have convinced him to stay off the radar. I’d never know.

How had he managed to get away from Fedorov? I knew one thing - unless Fedorov had let him go, Greg would be in deep trouble when the Russian tracked him down again.

My business always stayed on the clean and legal side, but I knew what went on in my city, and Ryan kept me filled in. His work took him to the dark sides of Atlanta more often than he liked. So I knew that Fedorov was not a man to cross. Ever. If Greg hadn’t already gotten out of town, he’d be in big trouble. I couldn’t think of anyone who deserved it more.

The next few hours passed in a blur. Sara looked like she was held together by a thin thread. She gave her statement to the police clearly and with more detail than she’d told me. I didn’t lose it when she described his cutting her with the knife or touching her breast, but I wanted to. Instead, I sat beside Sara, her hand in mine, feeling the fine tremble as she spoke in a steady, quiet voice. I’d made this hard enough for her, I wasn’t going to make it worse.

I brought her home in time for lunch in my cottage. Hard to believe it was only just after noon. She ate a tuna melt with absent attention. I took in the faint purple bruises under her eyes, the slump of her shoulders, and bumped back the hair and make-up appointment a half an hour. She needed rest more than she needed an elaborate hair style.

Sara resisted only a little when I walked her to her cottage and tucked her into bed, still fully dressed. I climbed on top of the covers beside her, and wrapped my arm around her waist.

“Just close your eyes for a little while,” I said. “You’ll feel better.”

“I can’t sleep, James. There’s too much in my head.”

“Just try. You had a long night and today has been rough. Even if you can’t sleep, resting your eyes will help.”

She did as I said, and a minute later, she was out. When I was sure she was asleep, I eased out of the bed and went straight for my phone. Ryan answered on the first ring.

“No sign of him,” he said. “We’re looking, the police are looking. You can bet Fedorov’s men are looking.”

“We’ll need extra security. I don’t like the way this guy is fixated on her. Coming back to burn her house wasn’t a smart move.”

“Can you keep her contained until we’ve got him?”

“I can keep her in the Drake Gardens,” I said. “At least until Monday. But I can’t keep her in the cottage.”

“Loosing your touch?”

“First, she’d not that kind of woman. And second, her sister is getting married at six tonight,” I said. “She’s not going to agree to miss the wedding. Can you cover us?”

“I’ve got it. I have two guys covering your floor, and I’ll coordinate with Russell to get more on the wedding and reception. How’s she doing?”

“She’s asleep. She got through talking to the police, but she’s in shock.”

“I can’t make it up to her, but I can at least keep her safe until we get Greg.”

“This isn’t your fault, Ryan.”

“Not entirely. But I played a part, James.”

“So did I,” I said. “Now let’s just keep that jerk away from her."

I hung up, frustrated that there was nothing I could do to end this situation. I ran a resort and part of Drake Enterprises. I had a lot of skills, but hunting down fugitives wasn’t one of them. Out there, I’d get in Ryan’s way more than I’d help. His guys were trained. They’d find Greg.

With nothing else to do until it was time to wake Sara in an hour, I got back on the phone and called the Audi dealer. A few minutes later they’d agreed to deliver a white Audi TTS convertible roadster with all the extras.

I thought about getting her the R8 Spyder; it had an aggressively sleek look I liked for her, but I had a feeling she’d balk at my giving her a one hundred and thirty thousand dollar car. I was pushing my luck with the TTS. The dealer assured me that she could exchange it if she didn’t like the color, but I thought she’d keep the white. It was elegant, but still sporty. The perfect look for my Sara.

That item ticked off my list, I sat at my desk and did what I always did when I had a spare second. I opened my laptop and worked.

J
ames didn’t wake
me up until the hair stylist arrived. I opened my eyes, surprised I’d managed to fall asleep at all. I wasn’t much of a napper under normal circumstances, but with all that had happened, my mind and body must have needed an escape.

I sat in a chair in my cottage, bundled in a robe, and let the stylist fuss with my hair. I told her I wanted an up-do and zoned out. Anything she did would look good with my formal dress, and I didn’t really care anymore. I just wanted to get the wedding over with and then face the fact that all my worldly possessions could currently fit in my purse.

Across the room, James sat in an armchair in the corner, working on his laptop and occasionally fielding calls. If he wasn’t staring into his computer screen, he was pacing in front of the windows, his phone to his ear, speaking in tones low enough that the stylist and I couldn’t hear any details.

Once again I was aware of how much work he must be pushing aside for me. If we stayed together, he couldn’t keep doing that. He had too many responsibilities between the Drake Gardens and Drake Enterprises. I knew he must work long hours. Could I handle that?

It was a stupid question - I’d deal with the long hours if they came with James. There were times of the year when I worked crazy hours as well. I was an accountant - January through the end of April were pretty nuts for me. If I could deal with James’s work, he’d learn to deal with mine.

As he paced and murmured into his phone, I noticed the stylist devouring the sight of his rear end in his worn, well fitting jeans. I almost cleared my throat to get her attention, then changed my mind. He was a very good looking man, and who was I to deprive the woman of the opportunity to appreciate it?

I was the one who was with him. If I wanted a relationship with James, I was going to have to get used to all sorts of women ogling his body. Despite my shock at seeing my house on fire, I was pretty sure I’d even spotted Mrs. Spencer checking him out.

My mind drifted as the stylist curled and pinned my hair, then was replaced by the make-up artist who got busy working on covering my bruises. I saw a pair of long white gloves laying over the back of the couch and thought of Jessica. I should get a good insurance settlement for the house. I’d called my agent on the way to the police station, and he assured me that it wouldn’t take long to work out the details.

I’d have to replace all my clothes, but I’d covered the contents of my house generously. Most of the time, I tried to save money, but I’d sprung for the best homeowner’s policy I could get. It had been my first house, and I’d wanted to protect it.

Which meant I should have plenty of money to pay for a new wardrobe. I wondered if I’d be able to afford Jessica. Not if she only did personal shopping for the kinds of clothes James had bought me. But if she worked with all of Nordstroms’s inventory, I could make that fit my budget as long as I went with classic pieces that wouldn’t go out of style a few months after I bought them. Jessica had been a genius for finding things that looked good on my curvy body. Imagining my new wardrobe, I barely noticed the time passing. Before I knew it, the make-up artist was done, and it was time to get dressed.

James showed her out as I headed straight for the bathroom mirror. My hair was amazing, pulled smoothly back from my face and up into a high knot of curls and twists. It was both dramatic and fanciful; a perfect match for my strapless black dress and its silver embroidered flowers.

The make-up artist must have been a genius. Or she’d been packing industrial strength spackle. I saw no sign of the bruises on my face, only smooth, pore-less skin. She’d done something to bring out my cheekbones and shaded my eyes in a deep purple-blue that would set off the dress and made my gray eyes seem to glow.

If I had the time and budget, I’d have those two show up every day before I left the house. I knew I’d never have the patience to do it, even if I could afford it, but it was a fun idea. Shrugging out of my robe, I wrestled with the bustier, conscious that James was standing just outside the cabin door on the front porch where he was waiting while I got dressed. Sometime while I was getting my hair and make-up done he’d returned to his own cottage to get ready.

Not wanting to make him wait too long, I fastened the bustier as quickly as I could and stepped into the dress. It took a little wiggling, but I was able to get it zipped up one my own. Sliding my feet into my silver heels, I went to let James back in.

Stepping inside, he leaned down to kiss my temple and said, “I have something for you. I wanted to get this for you when I first saw you in that dress.”

He picked up a flat, black velvet box and opened it to reveal a sparking diamond necklace with matching earrings and bracelet. I gasped, taking a step back in surprise. The necklace was fashioned of diamonds arranged in the shape of flowers, intricately mounted so that the piece appeared to be made entirely of sparkling stones with no metal holding it together. Only a little longer than a collar, it would hug my throat in a very expensive embrace.

“James, seriously, this is too much,” I said, looking at the open jewelry box with a combination of helpless avarice and exasperation. “You can’t buy me diamonds. You can’t. It’s crazy.”

“How do you know these are diamonds? Maybe this is a really good fake,” he asked, moving behind me to fasten the necklace around my neck. I didn’t need to look in the mirror to know that it was a perfect complement to the dress.

“Is it?” I asked, relieved at the suggestion. He laughed and decorated one earlobe with one of the matching earrings.

“Of course not,” he said, humor shaking in his voice. “Do you think I’d buy you fakes? It’s from the Sunflower collection by Harry Winston. Jessica says they’ve been sold out since the collection debuted two years ago, but she had a line on this set. It’s perfect with the dress.”

“But you can’t just…” I trailed off, not sure what to say. It seemed obvious to me. We’d only known each other a few days. His buying me extravagant gifts was over the top. Except that he clearly seemed to think it was fine. Proving me right, he said,

“I can, Sara. I know this is hard for you to understand. You’ve worked for everything you have, and you know the value of money. I like that about you. I like that you’re not trying to get everything you can out of me. I like that you’d rather give away the money this cost than wear it. The problem is, that just makes me want to spoil you more.”

He took my wrist in his hand and lifted it in front of him so he could lay the sparkling line of diamond sunflowers against my skin. The bracelet was a sculpture of glittering stones. I had a feeling the jewelry he’d bought so casually was worth more than my house had been before Greg had burned it to the ground.

“James,” I said, unable to stop myself from laughing. Taking advantage of my inability to protest further, he went on,

“I don’t know how to say this without sounding immodest, but you do know I have a lot of money, right?”

“I know you’re a billionaire, but -”

“Sara, you’re an accountant, you know what being a billionaire means. Stuff like this has no impact on my life, other than the pleasure of giving it to you.”

“But -”

“Stop.” He kissed my temple. “We need to go. If I stay near you one more second, I’m going to forget all my good intentions. Let’s go before I decide I don’t want to share you with anyone else tonight.”

Grabbing my tiny clutch, I turned to join James. My breath caught as I took in sight of him standing in front of the open door. He wore his tux with an innate elegance that did nothing to hide the strength of the body beneath. Yum. His green eyes flashed when he saw me, the look on his face enough to make my knees weak.

We walked the path to the main building of the resort side by side, holding hands, my fingers twining with his as if we’d been together for decades instead of mere days. As wound out way through the beautiful gardens, I had the feeling that I wasn’t just heading out for the evening, I was about to begin an entirely new life.

S
pying
the gorgeous bracelet on my wrist, I decided to try one more time to talk to James about his extravagance. I was finally ready to admit this relationship was the real thing. I cared about him, and I didn’t want money to come between us. Pulling him to a stop, I said,

“I know that you like buying me things, and I think I must be crazy to be saying this, but you have to stop.”

James didn’t say anything, just looked down at me and raised one eyebrow. I went on, trying to explain in fumbling words.

“It’s just that you don’t need to do this. And it feels unbalanced. Now that my house is gone, I need to get my life organized and I don’t want to feel like I’m a bottomless pit of need in your life. I want to be on equal footing. Do you understand?”

He stared at me, his gaze penetrating, giving me the unsettling feeling that he was reading my mind. After what felt like an eternity, he said, “I’ll take a break from buying you things. For a while, not forever. And only if you promise me two things.”

“What two things?” I asked, suspicious of his easy capitulation.

“One, you accept the car that’s outside in the lot.”

“What kind of car?” I asked. If the man could go overboard with a dress, what would he do when he decided to buy a car? His Maserati wasn’t exactly a Ford Focus.

“An Audi TTS roadster, white with camel leather interior.”

Wow. I wanted to say no. At least, the good girl in me wanted to say no. The rest of me was too busy drooling.

“Is that the convertible?” I asked, afraid I sounded too greedy.

“Yes.”

Oh, I was in trouble. I liked that car. A lot. I’d looked at the TT a few years before, but it had been both impractical and way out of my budget. Every time I saw one, I drooled a little. How had he known? I shouldn’t accept it.

“What’s the second condition?” I asked, stalling.

“Agree to the car first,” he answered. We’d reached the steps to the rear doors of the main resort building. James stopped and held my arm, preventing me from moving forward. Suddenly nervous, I said,

“Okay. I shouldn’t, but okay.” Then, after an awkward pause, “Thank you.” He rewarded me with a brilliant smile.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“And the second condition?” I asked, a little anxious.

“Stay here at the Drake.”

“What?” What? I couldn’t stay here. For one thing, it was a resort, not a place to live. Except he lived here. Which was part of the reason I couldn’t do the same. “I can’t live here,” I said, my voice loud and high pitched in the small space.

“Why not? You don’t have anywhere to go right now. And it’s going to take time to get the insurance settled. So stay here. In the cottage. I know it’s a little small, but why should you get a hotel or a short term apartment when I already own a hotel.”

“Drake Gardens is far more than a hotel, James. And I know that cottage costs over a thousand dollars a night. It’s inappropriate. And bad for your business” I said.

“What if I move you to a room in the resort proper? That’s not inappropriate. You’d have the staff around all the time.”

“I didn’t just mean inappropriate in terms of us being too close. I meant the cost.”

“I know. But I don’t care about the cost part. If it worries you so much, then move to a room. The cottages book up often but we always have a spare room. And I want you near by where I can be sure I’ll see you every day.”

“You’re freaking me out a little, James,” I confessed.

“No I’m not. You
think
you should be freaked out. You think this is too much. But if you take a deep breath, I bet you’ll realize you’re
not
actually freaked out. A part of you knows this is right. That we’re right together.”

His eyes on mine were intense, yet calm, as if he could will his own certainty into me. Closing my eyes to shut him out, I did what he’d suggested and took a deep breath, or as deep as I could in the tight bustier.

With nothing to see but the dark of my closed eyes, I tried to steady myself. Was I nervous about this because I was scared? Because I’d never imagined a man like James would ever be interested in me? Or because this was all sex and the thrill of adventure, destined to wear off as soon as we went back to our normal lives?

I thought of the past three days together. It had started with solving a problem. I’d needed a date. He’d needed to repair his reputation. That was the simple part. But our relationship had become so much more than just a way to help each other out of a tight spot.

There was so much about James that was wonderful. It wasn’t the shopping, though that had been fun. And it wasn’t walking into the rehearsal dinner and seeing jealousy on the other women’s faces. No, it was the conversation over lunch the day before. His hand rubbing my back in the hospital. The way he’d brought me to my house that morning, knowing I’d need to see the fire for myself, then brought me back home and tucked me into bed, already knowing I’d needed a nap.

It was his intelligence, his kindness, his sweetness. It was that beneath the movie star good looks, he was a man worth loving. And if he saw even a fraction of that in me, I really would be crazy to walk away just because I was scared. Still, I was nothing if not sensible, even when I was ready to take a huge risk.

I’d thought it through logically, but I still needed to talk to God. So often since God had become a part of my life I found that I only truly understood how I felt about something when I worked it out through prayer. God always had the power to untangle my messy emotions until I understood what he wanted of me. Taking a deep breath, I prayed,

God, I really need your help here. I like this man. I think I’m falling in love with him. But I don’t want to make a mistake. I don’t want to be swayed by the outside things - his looks or his money. I feel like I care for him just for himself and that he might feel the same way. Can I trust him? Can I trust myself? Please guide me in the right decision, Lord, so that I don’t mess up my life again or hurt anyone.

I should have prayed when I first started dating Greg. Then maybe I would have known to dump him before he could do so much damage. James was nothing like Greg. And God knew better than I. Taking another deep breath, I gasped as a warm, clean certainty filled my heart. James
was
nothing like Greg. He was a good man. A worthy man. And while life wasn’t always perfect, he wouldn’t ever deliberately hurt me. I knew what God wanted me to do.

Opening my eyes, I said,

“Okay. I’ll stay here. In a room in the main building. But once my insurance stuff is worked out, I’ll make other arrangements.”

“Deal.”

James’s arms came around me, drawing me close, the look in his eyes one of heated tenderness. His lips took mine in a gentle kiss of pure possession. I kissed him back, ready to be brave, to claim this man as my own.