In Bed with Beauty (9 page)

That made him feel good in a way he knew it shouldn’t have. “Tell me.”

“I want to open my own bakery.”

“Why can’t you do it now?”

“I told you, I have to keep my parents’ dream alive for my siblings.”

“What about—”

“Enough about me. Don’t you ever wish for a family of your own?”

“No. Too many variables. I like things I can measure.”

“People can’t be measured,” she said.

He raised one eyebrow at her. She’d just measured him and all mankind and found them lacking. But he didn’t say that to her.

“I just meant that you sometimes are surprised by a person.”

“Usually when they’ve let you down.”

“Emotionally.”

“I thought you said I wasn’t a wimp.”

“Emotion doesn’t equal wimp.”

He knew otherwise. “I meant in business.”

“Isn’t there more to life than business?” she asked.

“No.” He’d learned the hard way that business was the only thing he could count on.

“I think you’re afraid.”

Harris flexed his muscles. He didn’t like the thought of having weaknesses or Sarah noticing them. “Of what?”

“Finding out you’re wrong.”

“I can admit when I’m wrong.”

“But if you were wrong about people it would mean your entire life was built around an illusion.”

“Who’s to say your life isn’t?”

“I’m happy,” she said.

“Good for you. I’m successful and respected. I lead a life most men would envy.”

“Is it enough?” she asked. She had her hands clenched on the table in front of her and he wanted to say no. But he wasn’t going to be that weak. Not now. Not with her. He needed to get back to work. Back to the environment where he was in control. Back to the one place where he knew all the variables and could react accordingly.

“Most days,” he said, standing and walking out of her garden. Out of the little Eden she’d created with her home and her words and her soft eyes that beckoned him to taste the apple she held in her hand. Only this time the apple would bring man into Eden not expel him from it. And he knew he wasn’t meant to live in Eden.

“I thought we were going to talk about us,” she said, following him.

“Is there an us?” he asked. He’d never been part of an “us” before and there was a part of his soul that longed for her answer to be yes. But there was another part—a darker part that knew yes wasn’t the answer he was meant to hear.

“I think there could be, but you’re going to have to trust me.”

“I don’t trust easily, Sarah.”

“Maybe you haven’t met the right person yet.”

“Could be.”

“I think I’m right. And I’m going to teach you all I know about trust.”

He thought about it. Thought about the incredible ecstasy he’d experienced in her arms and about the longings she’d awakened in him. He should just say no. But he was only a man and the promise in her eyes made him believe that he could manage this.

Harris avoided Sarah and her little house as much as he could over the next few days. Though her family called to him in a way nothing other than high finance ever had. He’d taken on a new consulting job in Tokyo as soon as this one in Orlando ended. If nothing else it would give him a good reason to leave.

Halloween was on Thursday and then he’d only have a short stretch of time before Thanksgiving. He hated that holiday the most. Every year he’d watched that damned Macy’s parade from his father’s penthouse. So close to all those happy laughing families and so damned far away. Harris had a strict policy of being out of the country for all Holidays. This year would be no exception.

He’d stay busy like he always did. And this year he’d keep his distance from Sarah, her restaurant and the family that she kept trying to make him a part of. To keep from remembering what it was like to hold Sarah in his arms and to dream for a moment of something that could never be.

Ray had cajoled him into going to Sarah’s restaurant twice but Harris refused to go inside both times. Instead he’d been on the phone with Marshall Turner and the New Deal Developing Consortium who was purchasing Sarah’s rental property. Every time his conscience brought up that fact—that Taste of Home would be affected by this takeover—he quieted it. Business and personal lives didn’t mix.

He wasn’t sure what the next steps were in his relationship with Sarah. Only knew that spending time with her made him ache in a way that couldn’t be good.

He wanted her in his bed again. He wanted to exorcise the demon that she’d become to his soul. He wanted to let this obsession run its path so he could be free of it and get on with his normal life. But he didn’t want to burden her with his reality. To shatter more of her illusions of what life could be.

And any woman looking for Mr. Right believed in the kind of fairy tales that weren’t possible in the real world. A life that didn’t involve caring and the emotions that kept roiling through him. But that showed no sign of happening. Because Harris had realized that sex with Sarah was different from sex with other women. It wasn’t even sex per se, it was more like making love.

Ray stopped for the third night in front of Taste of Home. Since it was after ten, Harris suspected it wasn’t for dinner. Harris had deliberately worked late so that he wouldn’t be tempted to see Sarah.

“Why are we here?” Harris asked Ray.

“Sarah’s car is back in the shop. I told her we’d pick her up.”

“Next time consult me first.” This is what came from letting staff eat a meal with you, Harris thought.

“Yes, sir.” Ray had stopped being jovial after the first time Harris had refused to go to Sarah’s house.

“Ray, you take your job too seriously. I’m paying you to chauffeur me to and from meetings. Not to drive me through life.”

“You need someone to,” Ray said.

“Not you.”

“Hell. Definitely not me. Sarah. She can bring you things no one else can.”

“What are you talking about, Ray?” Harris asked. He wasn’t sure but his driver seemed almost desperate to get him to see Sarah again.

“
Merda.
I’m trying to help you and Sarah….”

“Don’t. I’m not the right guy for her. Surely you can see that.”

“Yeah, I know what you are saying, man. But let me tell you letting her go will haunt you.”

“I’m already haunted, Ray.”

“It gets worse.”

“Maybe that’s a man’s burden.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Ray said.

He wondered if Ray wasn’t having his own woman problems. Ray had the hounded look that only a woman can produce in a man.

“Here she comes.”

Ray got out of the car and opened the door for Sarah. She started to slide in, noticed Harris and paused. Damn, she looked better than he’d remembered. He wanted to grab her hand and pull her into the car with him.

To take her in his arms and kiss her until they both forgot about the other problems between them. Problems which stemmed solely from him. Problems that had nothing to do with heat or desire.

“I didn’t realize you’d be here,” she said.

“It is my car.”

“I know. It’s just that I had the impression you were avoiding me.”

“What are we, in junior high?”

She flushed. “Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.”

He felt ashamed of himself. “Come on in. I won’t bite.”

“Biting would be the least of your offenses,” she said.

“Suit yourself.”

“I will,” she said.

She clamored into the car over his legs and sprawled on the seat across from him. She smelled uniquely of Sarah and also of lasagna. He realized he was hungry not for food but for Sarah. His own actions had put a wall between them that only he could tear down.

She was silent while the car rolled through the busy October night. Finally she sighed and looked over at him. “I thought you were going to give us a try.”

“I…can’t.”

She scooted next to him on the seat. The fragrance of her perfume wrapped around him and he clenched his hands to keep from reaching out and touching her. The way he wanted to. The way he needed to. The way he longed to.

Sweat broke out on the back of his neck. He didn’t know if he could do it. Was it already too late to keep her out of his system? Hell, yes his body said. Give up the fight and grab her before she disappeared like every other woman in his life ever had.

She put her hand on his thigh and looked up at him with those dark eyes that promised redemption. Like a hungry man he wanted to reach out and take a chance. But like an alcoholic who’d fallen off the wagon more than once, his cynical side warned she was too good to be true.

“I’m not going to keep throwing myself at you. If you don’t want to see me, then stop coming by my restaurant.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to see you, Sarah. It’s that you are worlds too soft for a man like me. If you were any other type of woman I’d say to hell with it.”

“What type of woman am I?”

“The kind that still believes life is more than a rat race.”

“Then let me show you my reality.”

“I don’t want to have to spend my life trying to find something that doesn’t exist.”

“Because of your dad?”

Harris shrugged. Sarah slid her arm around his back and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m living proof that it exists. Give it a chance.”

“How?”

“Come to the Halloween party we’re throwing at Taste of Home. Costumes are required.”

“I’ve never put on a costume.”

“It’ll be fun.”

Fun? It would be torture. He’d be surrounded by her warmth, her scent, the essence of this woman and it was impossible to say no to her. So he nodded. At least they’d be in public.

Seven

W
itches and bats swung from the ceiling. A kettle filled with dry ice steamed near the register and Burt, dressed like a goblin with an ax in his head and bloodied T-shirt, slumped on the bench near the candy bowl, “waking” up to scare kids when they reached for a treat.

Isabella, who was in the drama club at school, wore her costume from last year’s production of Romeo and Juliet. All of the wait-staff were in costume, too. Since Sarah was serving as a hostess this evening she’d decided on Elvira Mistress of the Night. With a little help from the WonderBra she thought she looked dang good.

Taste of Home was crowded, Sarah thought with glee. Finally it seemed her restaurant was making a swing toward being more profitable. She’d hired a band for the evening, a group of kids from the high school. They played popular music and golden oldies, which pleased everyone in the crowd.

The only thing missing was Harris. She wasn’t sure he was really going to show. Sure he’d said he’d come but she knew this type of party wasn’t in his comfort zone. She’d thought about calling and reminding him he’d promised to come tonight but she didn’t. She wasn’t running after him. If he was interested in her, he had to meet her halfway.

The door opened and a blast of chilly air swept inside. As always the temperature dipped on All Hallows Eve and tonight it was in the low sixties. Not cold for other parts of the country, but for this Florida girl the weather was definitely chilly.

She glanced up and saw Harris.
No costume.
His briefcase in one hand, a bouquet of autumn colored flowers in the other. She felt a rush of pleasure that scared her.

Seeing him shouldn’t make her this happy. She shouldn’t put so much emotion into this relationship. He’d be gone by Thanksgiving. But she couldn’t stop herself. She hurried to his side.

“These are for you,” he said.

No one had ever brought her flowers. It was such a small thing but it touched her deeply. She buried her face in them, inhaling deeply. Hiding until she thought she had her emotions under control.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll take over hosting duties, while you put those in water,” Burt said.

Sarah nodded and made her way back to her office. But she didn’t have a vase.

“Why don’t you put them in the refrigerator until you go home?” Harris suggested.

“Good idea. Are you hungry?”

He gave her the once-over and she flushed as his eyes narrowed in a way she recognized. He whistled softly through his teeth. “For you.”

He was eyeing her breasts and she fought the urge to cover her cleavage. “I’m not on the menu.”

“You should be.”

“Really? You’d share me with others.”

“Never,” he said, his eyes narrowing.

She wanted to ask if he really meant it but didn’t. She was trying to ease him into the world of the living not overwhelm him. But she cherished his words and tucked them away to examine later.

“Did you have dinner?”

“There wasn’t any time.”

“I’ll bring you a plate. Have a seat.”

She put the flowers in the refrigerator and fixed Harris a plate of food. She grabbed a basket of bread and a bottle of Merlot. It took several trips to get everything she wanted but soon they were sitting on her office floor on a picnic blanket. While Harris ate dinner Sarah tried to keep the conversation going but she wasn’t sure what to say. Their relationship was so tenuous.

“I read that Nick Hornby book. You were right, it was really good.”

“I usually am right,” she said, winking at him.

“You are? Other than the book name one time,” he said.

“I knew you’d enjoy yourself if you came here tonight.”

“I must bow to your abilities as a seer.”

“There’s no magic to my gift. You’re easy to read.”

“No mystery, huh?”

“Some things about you I’ll never understand but books and dinner, well those are easy to predict.”

He reached out and caressed her face. “Don’t try so hard to understand me. I’m just a man.”

“You are much more than that,” she whispered.

He leaned forward, brushing his mouth over hers. She let him nuzzle her lips and caress her face. Aware that once again he used passion to distract her. But tonight, with the spirit of Halloween in the air, she didn’t mind.

A knock on the door drew them apart. Harris picked up his wineglass and took a sip while she answered the door. “We need you out front. It’s time for the costume contest judging.

“I’ll be right there,” Sarah said.