One Night Standards (21 page)

Sophie had believed in him…and here he was, striking out on his own. This wasn't about his looks, or his charm. This was finally what it meant to make it on his own, on his brains and his abilities.

He smiled as he followed Frank out the door, onto the street.

As he'd told his brother, he just wanted to prove to himself that he could handle it. It had taken longer than he'd thought to find a situation that suited him—six months of searching, and getting rid of his stuff in New York, simplifying his life. He'd briefly taken a job at Marion & Co., insisting that he not work on anything related to Diva Nation, but even that near proximity had been too much. Besides that—Mrs. Marion had shown him how he didn't want to do business.

“I thought you had better business instincts than that, Mark,” she'd said when he'd finally given in and quit.

He'd made the right choice. He didn't know how Sophie was managing, caught between the Scylla and Charybdis of Marion & Co. and Trimera. But from everything he'd been able to find out, things were going spectacularly well for her. Diva Nation was splashed across the pages of every trade magazine he read, and all of his contacts said that Trimera was set to make millions upon millions thanks to their investment in the boutique company. It looked like Mark's instincts had been dead-on, after all. And Sophie was the brains behind the success. He imagined that must have bothered Simone, who'd taken a job with one of their competitors not long after. Roger had been promoted as a result, so he had to be happy.

Mark wondered if Sophie was happy.

“So now that your life's in order,” his brother said, when Mark called to tell him the good news, “what are you going to do about the girl?”

Mark wondered about that, too. “It's been a long while. I'm sure she's moved on.”

“In other words, you're chickening out.”

“I am not chickening out,” Mark snapped. “I…she's probably really ticked at me for not calling, even if she is interested, which she probably isn't.”

“You're the one who had to figure stuff out,” Jeff said. “I get the feeling she'll understand. And even if she doesn't…”

“I know. I have to try.” Mark chuckled bitterly. “Man. I've done sales pitches and job interviews and multimillion-dollar deals, and just calling her has me more nervous than anything I've ever done.”

“Maybe you should see her face-to-face,” Jeff suggested. “You're always better in person, if I remember correctly.”

Mark thought about it. “The trade mags did say she had some big announcement or something at the next conference.”

“Where's that?”

Mark consulted the magazine he had on his coffee table, then grinned slowly. “Well, I'll be damned. San Antonio.”

“Sounds like you've been there.”

Mark grinned. “We've both been there,” he said. “And I think that luck is finally going my way.”

S
OPHIE SAT IN HER HOTEL ROOM
in San Antonio, looking out into the night sky. She felt free, and curiously empty. She could still remember every word she'd spoken at the press conference in the main ballroom that afternoon.

“I would like to thank Marion & Co. for the wonderful opportunity they presented by choosing the Diva Nation line of cosmetics as their house brand,” she'd opened. “I would also like to thank Trimera for the exciting working partnership they offered. I know that the companies will work beautifully together in years to come. I also would like to thank everyone involved for their support. From now on, I know that Diva Nation is in good hands. That's why I'm taking this opportunity to step down from my position as director of marketing and sales for Diva Nation.”

There had been some shock over that, but all in all, they weren't interested in her. They were interested in the products. Sophie could go back to her own life now, such as it was. That was, she could actually
have
a life now.

She was looking forward to the chance.

It would have been nice to share this moment with someone, she realized absently as she sipped at a diet soda and put her feet up on the bed. Her mother and sister had volunteered to accompany her, but she'd turned them down. Lydia was now busy with her own graphic-design firm thanks to the exposure she got from designing the packaging and ads for Diva Nation's launch. Her mother, on the other hand, was finally letting things go and settling into retirement. After years of working and struggling, relaxation was coming hard to her, but Sophie had to be thankful she was trying. Sophie didn't want to ruin that progress by putting her in close proximity with Trimera execs again. So here she was, alone at what was definitely a huge turning point in her life.

I wonder what Mark's doing.

She wondered that at least ten times a day, so she wasn't surprised when the thought appeared, unbidden. Now she had time for a social life, one that included dating—and sex. There wouldn't be business between them anymore, she thought. Still, she didn't know if there were still hard feelings on his part.

You knew it wouldn't be simple,
she reminded herself for the billionth time. She had thought that they could manage, and for a while they had, but inevitably it had blown up in their faces.

The question was…was the damage irreparable?

She closed her eyes. She now had money to breathe, to take time off. She would have energy, once she'd slept for about a week. She still wasn't quite sure what had imploded with Mark, to cause him to cut off all contact. Part of her was still angry at the course he'd taken. Part of her was furious that he hadn't even tried to contact her once. But a big part of her still loved him, and missed him. That part was willing to invest the time and energy to find him, and try to get back what they'd lost. The worst that could happen would be him saying no, and turning away from her. She hadn't come this far in her business by letting every
No
stand in her way, she thought with a tired smile.

There was a knock on her door. She didn't want to deal with a restaurant full of industry insiders, so she'd ordered room service. She got the door and her mouth fell open.

“This steak for you?”

It was Mark, standing there with the room-service cart. He wasn't the polished, business Mark that she was used to seeing. He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, and looked scruffy, casual and utterly delicious. She nodded dumbly, watching as he rolled in her dinner. She let the door shut. “I can't believe you're here,” she finally said. “I was just thinking about you.”

He grinned, the same sweet, irrepressible grin she remembered. Her heart tugged in response. “I always think about you,” he replied.

She crossed her arms.
Don't let him in that easily.
“You could have fooled me,” she said lightly, “considering I haven't heard from you since that day in New York. Six months ago.”

He kept his eyes on her, sitting on the bed. “I am sorry about that. I needed to get my head on right, sort out what I was doing with my life.”

“And you couldn't have told me that?” She felt tears start to well up in her eyes, and she blinked hard to prevent them. She just wanted the air clear. She wasn't about to lose her composure and be reduced to jelly at his feet…at least, not before they'd talked.

“I didn't know how to tell you,” he said, and his tone sounded miserable. “I was angry with you initially. Really, I was more angry with myself. I felt like a failure. I thought everybody around me saw me as a failure, and I wasn't bouncing back from that.”

“
I
didn't think you were a failure,” Sophie pointed out.

He stood up, moved next to her, and his arms reached for her tentatively, stroking her shoulders. The instinct was great to let him fold her into his arms, but she held back, keeping her gaze intent on his. “I know,” he finally said. “You always believed in me. But until I believed in myself, you couldn't believe in me enough for both of us. Does that make sense?”

“No,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

“I needed to prove something to myself,” he said. “I wanted to know I could make it on my own.”

“You would have made it on your own,” she answered. “But you didn't have to be alone. I would've been supportive.”

“I know that now,” he said. “Believe me, for someone who was trying to prove how smart he was, I can be amazingly stupid.”

She laughed. She couldn't help it. He smiled, and she felt her defenses start to crumble.

“Now I know I can make it on my own…but I don't want to,” he pleaded. “I don't want to spend any more time away from you. I just got a job, one I really like, in San Diego. I know you're in Los Angeles. I don't mind commuting.”

“Haven't you heard? I'm currently between jobs,” she said. “So I don't have to stay in L.A.” In fact, she realized, it might be good to put some distance between her and her family. For that matter, it'd be good to start fresh in a new city. The thought made her smile more.

“I saw the press conference,” he said, stroking her arms. She gave in, leaning toward him. He hugged her tightly. “I know how hard you worked. Everyone knows that the success was thanks to you and they're all dying to snap you up. You could name your price and your terms. You can get anything you want.”

“Right now, all I want is you.”

She hadn't meant to say that. Not yet. But his hug turned fierce, and he leaned down, kissing her with abandon. She gave in, hunger driving her to run her fingers through his hair and kiss him as though she hadn't in a hundred years. That was certainly what it felt like. The familiar feel of him made yearning shoot through her like nothing else.

“Can you forgive me?” he said after tearing himself away. He kissed her jaw, her throat, the sweet spot behind her earlobe. “Can we fix everything?”

“I forgave you the minute you walked in with my dinner,” she said with a shaky laugh, and his answering chuckle warmed her right down to her toes. “I know. I shouldn't make it that easy on you, but I love you. And I've missed you. I thought you'd broken my heart.”

“I will spend the rest of my life,” he said solemnly, all humor erased from his voice, “making it up to you.”

“You'd better.” She felt heat start to seep through her, starting in her chest and radiating out. “In fact, starting now would be perfect.”

His wicked smile of response was enough to set her nerve endings tingling. “What about your dinner?” he asked, his tone mock innocent.

“What dinner?”

He laughed out loud. “Well, I can think of something more appealing.”

With that, he tugged her over to the bed. Her fingers flew to the buttons on her blouse as he tugged off his T-shirt and shucked his jeans and boxers. She tore her sleeve in her haste, causing him to laugh again. By the time she stripped out of her skirt and underwear, all laughter had ceased. They stared at each other for a moment.

“I didn't think I'd ever get the chance to do this again,” she breathed.

“It feels like the first time,” he said. Then slowly, reverently, he reached for her, softly caressing her shoulder, smoothing his fingertips down her side and hip, reaching between her legs and touching ever so gently between her curls. She gasped, her hips arching for more intimate contact. His eyes went dark with passion. She grabbed one of the condoms he'd tossed on the bed when he'd taken off his jeans. After ripping it open with shaking hands, she smoothed it on slowly over his rock-hard erection, the heat of him warming her palm as she rolled it. He groaned, his hips bucking in response. They inched slowly next to each other, warming each other with the slide of naked skin over naked skin. It did feel like the first time, she marveled. He kissed her collarbone as she rubbed her breasts over his chest, feeling his cock poke against her belly. Her leg trailed over his, her thighs heating and her flesh going damp with desire. She reached down and positioned him between her legs, her breathing going uneven. He cupped one breast as his hips angled slightly, dipping himself into her. She gasped slightly, from the overwhelming sensation of his fingers on her nipple and his cock penetrating her slowly. “Mark,” she said, her last coherent thought before pleasure slammed through her, rendering her giddy.

He nudged her from her side onto her back, the action causing more of him to slide into her, stretching her out, filling her. She arched her hips, feeling the pressure of him as his hips slid between her thighs. She wanted more—she wanted all of him. He slowly buried himself all the way inside her, and he was familiar and yet so unfamiliar after all this time that it was like reliving a dream. She moaned as he withdrew by centimeters, the friction of him against her clit slowly driving her mad.

“I want you,” she whispered.

“I won't rush this,” he replied through gritted teeth. “I'm going to make you crazy with it. I've been dreaming of this so often….”

“So have I…
oh,
” she interrupted herself, as he pressed back inside her. His fingers reached down, finding her sensitive spot and circling it with his thumb. Before she even realized what was happening, her breathing sped up and she climaxed, a short, sharp swirl of sensation.
“Mark!”