Here Comes the Bride (15 page)

“Dominic is one of the good guys,” Gretchen said. “He cares about people. Never puts himself before the welfare of others. He’s as loyal as they come. There are so many stories about Dominic that the public isn’t even aware of, but he’s been letting Ben run the show for so long he doesn’t realize that charity and good-heartedness sell magazines, too.”

Before Sam could comment, Dominic and Tom joined them.

“I think Landon’s hungry,” Tom told Gretchen.

As Gretchen took the baby and arranged a blanket so she could breastfeed, Tom told them about an interview scheduled sometime in the next few weeks. “You’ll be on prime time,” Tom went on. “Barbara Fells will be the interviewer. That woman doesn’t hold back.”

“Which means you both need to be prepared,” Gretchen said.

Sam looked at Dominic. “What do you think?”

He shrugged. “We don’t have much of a choice at this point.”

“She’s going to want to know why you married Samantha Johnston,” Gretchen said. “She’s going to stare you down, Dominic, and bluntly ask if this whole thing was a farce, a scam, to get your career going and get people talking about you again.”

Dominic rubbed his chin, worry lining his brow. Sam knew he didn’t like lying to the public, but now he was going to be forced to publicly deny the accusations that their marriage was all just a ploy.

“Isn’t there a way to get out of this?” Sam asked.

Tom shook his head. “Dominic’s contract is with World Studios. They’re the ones who arranged for the interview.”

Dominic smiled at Sam. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this. When she asks me why I married you, I’ll look Barbara Fells square in the eyes and tell her that the first time I saw you, I thought you were a man-eating reporter with dragon claws, but in less than twenty-four hours, I knew you were
the one
, the woman who was going to be my wife. I’ll explain that you’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman and in a wife…beautiful inside and out…the real deal.”

Sam swallowed the knot lodged in her throat.
Does he really think that or is he just making it all up?
“Okay,” she said. “And I’ll tell Barbara point-blank that you can’t judge a man by a magazine cover. I’ll say that within twenty-four hours of meeting Dominic DeMarco, I knew I was in trouble and that in a very short amount of time he became my hero, my lover, my confidant, and friend.”

Tom smiled and looked at his wife.

Gretchen chuckled. “I think you can call Ben and tell him they’ve got it under control.”

Chapter Nineteen

From the top step, Dominic and Sam watched Tom and Gretchen drive away. After the gate at the bottom of the driveway slid shut, they looked at each other.

Breathing in his familiar scent, Sam noticed his half-open button-up shirt and she found herself enjoying the view: well-defined chest, muscled forearms, bronzed well-formed hands, sturdy fingers. Those hands could do strange and wonderful things to her body. The mere thought sent a shiver racing up her spine.

“What are you thinking?” His eyes told her he already knew.

“I’m thinking about how much fun I had today,” she fibbed.

“I had a good time, too. Tom and Gretchen are fun to be around and yet I couldn’t wait for them to leave.”

She raised a brow. “Really? Why?”

“Because I can’t get last night out of my head, that’s why.” Using his forefinger, he lifted her chin so he could gaze deeper into her eyes. “You’ve put some sort of strange hex on me, haven’t you?”

“That’s right.” She laughed softly and didn’t even try to move away. “I’m a witch. I’ve cast my most potent love spell on you.”

He leaned forward and kissed her deeply. “I’ve been dying to do that all day.”

“I enjoy kissing you, Dominic. I also like making love to you, but I need to know there’s something more between the two of us before we can continue on in this way.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but she held two fingers to his lips.

“I don’t have grand allusions that our marriage will become something more. I completely understand that this arrangement is temporary, so there’s no need for you to worry, but it doesn’t change how I feel. For the next twenty-four hours, I’m not going to make love to you.”

Both of his eyebrows shot up.

“Not until you open up to me. I know you don’t trust me, but that’s your problem. Besides, we need to ask each other questions and get to know each other better before the interview.” Finished with her speech, she walked off.

“Where are you going?”

“I need to check on our new dog. He really does need a name, you know.”

He followed her through the house. They had picked up the dog from the vet early that morning before Tom and Gretchen arrived. For the next ten days, the animal would be on antibiotics and painkillers. The poor thing had nearly one hundred stitches and a broken leg, but the veterinarian said with tender loving care, he would fully recover.

“My weakness is freshly baked chocolate chip cookies,” Dominic blurted.

She smiled to herself, but kept quiet.

“I used to have a collie named Lady and when I was in third grade I had a mad crush on my math teacher, Mrs. Holland.”

“Were you good at math?”

“Not at all. Mrs. Holland distracted me.”

She chuckled. “What else?”

“I can manage a mean waltz, but I can’t draw to save my life.”

“Are you really allergic to cats?”

He sneezed. “Certifiably.”

“Do you play any instruments?”

“A little guitar.”

They were in the family room now. “Oh, would you look at that,” Sam said.

The injured dog was asleep on the padded doggy bed they had given him and Shakespeare and Rex were on either side, as if protecting their new friend.

“His name is Caesar,” Dominic announced. “Now tell me something about you.”

“I like to play chess.” It was only fair if she revealed a few things about herself, too. “I also love listening to any song by Adele. I’m allergic to poison oak.”

“Fascinating.” He reached for her, but she swatted his hand away.

She walked outside and began collecting dishes from their lunch. “Have you ever had poison oak?”

He stood behind her, taking whatever dishes she handed him. “Never had poison oak. But I did get stitches right here—” With dishes in hand, he showed her a jagged scar on his left elbow.

“What happened?”

“I tried to untangle my kite from the tallest branches of a tree and ended up flat in the dirt.”

Sam crinkled her nose. “Ouch.”

They were in the kitchen now. “Any injuries I should know about?” Dominic asked.

She rinsed the dishes and handed him one at a time so he could fill the dishwasher. She gestured toward her right foot.

“A dance injury?”

“No. I was taking care of a horse. He got spooked and came down hard on my foot.”

He leaned close. “I think I should kiss it and make it feel better.”

Smiling, she nudged him away with her shoulder.

“Favorite color, ice cream, number?” he asked, his voice a throaty whisper now as he hovered at her side, his lips on her ear, forgetting all about the dishes.

“Green, cookie dough, and sex.” She gasped. “I mean six. How about you?”

“Blue, vanilla, and…” He wriggled his eyebrows. “Six, also.”

She laughed. “You’re making that up.”

“I would never lie about something so serious.”

She smiled, mostly because she could feel him hard against her, and she was enjoying this playful side of him. She turned so that they were face to face and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You didn’t listen to a word I said, did you?”

“Horse injury on your right foot. Green, cookie dough, six.”

She smiled. “I mean the part about not making love to you for the next twenty-four hours.”

“But you also said, ‘not until I open up to you.’ What else do you want to know?”

“I want to know how you feel about me.”

“I adore you—every bit of you.” He kissed her again, prompting Sam to slide her hands over every inch of his muscled shoulders. It was useless. She could say no until she was blue in the face, but her body kept saying yes. She was putty in his hands, couldn’t resist his charms if she tried. He’d opened up to her enough for one day.

***

Early the next morning, Sam walked sleepy-eyed and groggily into the kitchen. Maria stood at the stove while Dominic sat at the kitchen table with a script in front of him.

“Good morning, Mrs. Dominic. Would you like scrambled eggs or an omelet?”

“Hello, Maria. Scrambled eggs sound great. Thank you.” Taking a seat at the table across from Dominic, she watched him read. “Find anything interesting yet?”

“One script has caught my eye, but I’ll need to talk to the director before I make any decisions.”

She held her mug between her palms. “What sort of movie is it?”

“A Western.”

Her eyes widened in surprise.

“I figure it would be a nice change of pace going from FBI agent to cowboy.”

“And what a handsome cowboy you would make,” Maria said over her shoulder, making them both smile.

“She’s got a point. There’s nothing sexier than a man in leather chaps and boots.”
Except a man holding a baby
, Sam thought.

The phone rang. Dominic picked up the receiver before it could ring a second time. He hit the button to open the gate at the end of the driveway and then hung up the phone. “That was your dad. He’s on his way up.”

“My father is here?”

“Apparently,” Dominic said as he headed for the front door.

Sam set her mug on the table and followed behind, surprised to see her father at the door a few minutes later.

“Dad, what are you doing here?” Sam’s father wasn’t the type of person to call or show up at her apartment, which was why having him appear at Dominic’s house, especially after all that had happened, was more than strange. “What’s going on?” she asked, still upset with him for acting like an ass.

His clothes were rumpled. Puffs of thin, gray hair stuck up from his skull. He looked awful. “Have you talked to your mother?”

“Not since I was at the house the other night.”

Silence.

At closer view, she noticed dark circles under his eyes. He’d definitely slept in the clothes he had on. “Dad, what’s going on? Did something happen to Emma or my brothers?”

“They’re all fine.” He tried to peek over her shoulder. “Your mother’s not here?”

“No. Why don’t you come inside and see for yourself?”

He scooted past them, making his way from room to room.

Sam looked at Dominic. He merely raised a brow and lifted his shoulders.

“Sit down,” she said once they were all gathered in the kitchen.

Maria filled another mug with coffee and handed it to him. Her father took a sip and even said thank you, which was unheard of, worrying Sam further.

“Dad,” Sam tried once more, “tell me what’s going on.”

“Your mother left me.”

“It’s Monday. Maybe she’s having her hair done.”

“I wish that were the case.”

He didn’t sound anything like her father. His voice usually took on an air of authority that echoed off the walls. At the moment, though, he sounded almost childlike.

“Did you and Mom get into a fight?”

“I guess you could call it that,” he said glumly. “She left me. She walked out of our house in the middle of the night, the same night the two of you were there. She left the house wearing her nightclothes.”

“Mom left the house wearing her pajamas?” Sam couldn’t picture it. Mom was the sort of woman who dressed up just to go the grocery store. She would never walk out of the house in her pajamas unless—unless she’d truly had had enough of her father’s crap. “She finally did it,” Sam whispered.

“What do you mean?” her father asked worriedly. “Finally did what?”

“She finally left you. She finally got sick of your high-handed bullshit.”

Dominic put a hand on Sam’s forearm as if to stop her from saying more.

“No, he needs to hear it. Someone should have told him a long time ago.” Sam turned and faced him. “You’ve been a tyrant. For years. Treating Mom without respect in front of her children and her friends.”

He listened stoically, and then with the palms of his big hands, he rubbed his puffy red eyes.

Frustrated, Sam pushed her hair back from her face. “I have a couple of places I need to be this morning, but I’m going to call Mom and make sure she’s all right.”

“Will you ask her to call me?” her father asked, his eyes pleading. “Tell her I need to talk to her. I need her to come home.”

“Go on,” Dominic told Sam. “I’ll take your dad for a long stroll on the beach.”

“Eat your eggs before you go,” Maria said. She waved her spatula at Sam’s father next and said, “Omelet or scrambled eggs, Mr. Samantha?”

Chapter Twenty

Sam pulled into a parking spot and took a moment to admire Dominic’s nice car, inhaling the new smell of leather and the sleek wood encircling the multimedia screen. She was about to shut off the engine when a message popped up on the screen. She followed the wire and realized Dominic had left his cell phone in the car. The message on the screen read,
“Every hour apart is a dagger to my heart. Looking forward to seeing you again. Julia.”

A painful twinge settled inside the pit of her stomach as she read the message again. It’s nothing, Sam told herself. But then she recalled the way Julia had clung to Dominic. She was a beautiful woman and they did make a striking couple.

She bit down on her lower lip as she brushed her fingertips over his phone.
Was that where he went to when he left the house? Was he meeting Julia?

Dominic probably received messages just like that one every hour on the hour. He was a celebrity. This sort of thing was part of the deal. She pushed a few buttons and looked through the list of addresses logged into his navigation system. One particular address was at the top of the list.
Was this Julia’s address? Was this the place he visited? Stop it. You’re being a jealous fool.