In the Mood for Love (31 page)

“I’m going to call Val, right now, and alert her of the potential threat. I’m going to advise that we alert hotel security and that they monitor incoming guests. Head Edward off before he gets poolside, before he takes his seat or slithers into the wings waiting for his chance. Whatever his plan is—preempt it, and detain him until after the show is over.”

“A proactive and wise plan,” Sam said.

“We can provide the security officers with a photo of Edward for easier verification,” Harper said. “And I’ll print out some of his past taunting e-mails so Val has proof that a true threat exists. I’ll make it clear that it’s a personal vendetta against me. That Edward’s been stalking me, and that the private detective I hired to keep tabs on him—a slight spin on the truth—alerted me that Edward’s en route to Vegas. They can check the passenger manifest to verify. Val won’t want to risk an outburst.”

“Not even for spiked ratings?”

“Not even. Because, like me, she’ll spin scenarios. What if Edward sought revenge in another way? A more violent way? What if he pulled a gun in a public venue, holding everyone hostage as he made his speech to the cameras? What if he threatened the Cupcake Lovers,
you
, to get to me? What if he lost it and fired that gun? Val won’t risk any of that. She won’t risk lives. Not even for a media boost.”

Harper placed a hand to her heart, surprised by her calm. A week ago and that string of what ifs would have sparked a panic attack. Instead she was intent on waylaying a personal crisis with the same focused determination she’d apply to any one of her clients.

She felt another click, a shift in her makeup. She’d been sabotaging her own happiness for more than three years, shoving down her needs, her desires, putting everyone else’s well-being and contentment ahead of her own. If there was a time to pull a Daisy, to come out of her shell and to live life on her own terms, that moment was now.

Sam touched her waist, urged her closer. He searched her eyes and he smiled. “You’re right. You can fight your own battles. That makes me enormously happy. But I have a favor to ask. Let me handle Edward on my own.”

His request knocked her off balance. “But—”

“Hear me out. I had thoughts similar to yours about alerting security, but why drag Val into it?”

“Professional courtesy plus I feel it would be safer for all concerned.”

“Understood, but surely she’d inform other members of the production crew. Maybe even the cast. What if it leaked to Daisy and the other seniors? Why put everyone on pins and needles? Why tempt hysteria? Here’s another angle to consider. What if Val eliminates the risk completely by canceling the Cupcake Lovers and pulling in a last-minute substitute? Personally, I don’t care, but the ladies would.”

Harper frowned. “I don’t think Val would do that.”

“But she might.”

Harper pondered and nodded. “She might.”

“Let me handle it.”

Harper wet her lips, shifted her weight. The thought of Sam in some sort of personal scuffle with Edward made her uneasy.

“If it will make you feel better, Jayce offered to fly out. He can be here in the morning, before the show.”

Jayce was former NYPD. Jayce had a dual golden boy/tough guy reputation. Between him and Sam, a former marine and tough guy in his own right, Harper could easily see them defusing the situation. “Not that I don’t have faith in your bad boy abilities, Rambo, but yes, that would make me feel better.”

Sam nabbed his phone, sent a quick text, then pulled Harper against his strong and oh-so-capable body. He nuzzled her ear. “It’ll be all right, Slick.”

“Absolutely.” She envisioned a positive outcome and played it over and over in her mind. “Giving up control isn’t easy, but I trust you, Sam.”

“I’m glad.” He dropped his forehead to hers. “Now. How do we get back to perfect?”

*   *   *

Sam was impressed by the way Harper had handled the news about Edward. The way she’d devised a sound and wise plan—even though he’d asked her to revise it. He was touched that she trusted him to handle the situation and that she’d directed all her energy to a positive outcome. Her calm demeanor overall had been a surprise and his heart had swelled when she suggested they return to the restaurant to finish their meal. She’d even been game for dessert.

It was as if she’d put the situation with Edward into perspective, knowing there was nothing more to be done about it tonight. Knowing there was no advantage to discussing it to death.

She directed the conversation toward the kids, how and when they should break the news about the marriage, how and when to handle the move from his house to hers. They talked about the Cupcake Lovers, and Harper told Sam about the first time she’d heard the sad tale of Mary Rothwell and how she sometimes felt Mary’s spirit and that she thought she was happier these days, less lonely. Sam liked to believe that was true even though he didn’t actually believe Mary’s spirit lingered. He told Harper about the upgrades he’d researched for his furniture-making Web site and they discussed Harper’s work on Rae’s behalf, promoting children’s programs and charities, and how she’d like to throw more muscle behind those efforts.

Conversation flowed along with great food, one bottle of very expensive wine, and a panoramic view of the vibrant sunset and glittering vista. Sam marveled how quickly and expertly Harper finessed their evening back to perfect. For the first time, he seriously considered the work she’d done for her past clients. He knew without a doubt that she’d been amazing. He couldn’t fathom how the firm could so easily cut her loose, but he was morbidly happy that they had because now Harper was his to cherish. Ben and Mina, the Cupcake Lovers, and Rae’s charities would benefit from her warm and vibrant spirit. Hollywood’s loss was Sugar Creek’s gain.

Sam signaled the waiter for their check and Harper excused herself to go to the ladies’ room. Sam watched her go, admiring her beautiful body, her confident, sexy stride. As soon as she was out of sight, his mind skipped ahead. He’d only planned up through dinner. Should he take her dancing, to a late-night show, drinks on the observation deck?

His phone blipped.

A text from Harper.
NEED U NAKED
.

HOW FAST
?

FAST
.

Sam grinned, typing,
MEET ME
@
ELEVATOR
.

Hallelujah
.

Harper had ideas of her own.

*   *   *

Harper contained herself until they were within the backseat of a taxicab. Then she practically crawled onto Sam’s lap. She was an energized ball of tangled emotions. Sam’s calm was a turn-on. His kindness was a turn-on. His let-me-handle-it confidence a massive turn-on. The latter felt a little shallow. A little too Hollywood. But she was blinded by love, so everything, every thought, every feeling, every desire, felt right.

She clutched his lapels and yanked him close for a kiss. A ravishing kiss. A hot and heavy, brain-frying kiss.

“Newlyweds,” she heard the driver say.

She tightened her hold, deepened the kiss. Sam’s tongue danced with hers, a crazy tango with him leading. He finessed her fully onto his lap, cupping her face, fanning the fire.

Harper had never climaxed while kissing, just kissing, but she swore it was possible because she was close,
so close
.

The cab stopped, and in order to pay the driver, Sam shifted, breaking the kiss, but not the heat. Harper wasn’t thinking very straight but straight enough to grab her lovely bouquet and her purse that contained their souvenir flutes.

Sam whisked her from the cab and escorted her into the building. She didn’t feel like she was walking as much as floating or flying. She was high on that kiss, on Sam, and on the future they’d discussed.

“If we pass any of the Cupcake Lovers along the way,” Sam said as he guided her through the bustling casino, “we’ll have to explain our fancy duds and the flowers.”

“The magic show just started at seven-thirty and it runs two hours,” Harper said. “Then Sebastian’s treating them to after-dinner drinks and the Fountains of Bellagio. And I think Ethel and Judy wanted to play slots. We’re fine. I’m sure we’re fine.” Why did her voice sound so gravelly? Why was her vision a little hazy?

Sam pulled her into an elevator, an empty elevator, where they kissed again. Seconds or a lifetime later, he finessed her down the hall then swept her into his arms, into his room. Had he just carried her over the threshold?

The door clicked shut and Sam lowered her to her feet. “I don’t know what to do with you first,” he said.

“Anything that involves naked would be great.” She pushed his jacket off his shoulders, loosened his tie and whipped it from his neck a little too fast to be seductive. She told herself to slow down. She knew how to tease. She knew how to tempt. Right now she felt as clumsy as a virgin.

He lowered the zipper at the back of her dress, his fingers skimming her skin, igniting her senses.

She fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. She’d never fumbled before. She felt Sam smiling against her neck, kissing down her neck, over her bare shoulder. She wanted to do the same to him. Frustration welled as she struggled with the last button. Meanwhile Sam had expertly slid her dress to her hips. She yanked his shirt apart and that damned button popped.

Well, hell
.

Sort of mortifying. Sort of sexy.

“Wanna know what I think?” Sam asked as she peeled his shirt off his broad shoulders and down his muscled arms.

“Sure,” she said, trailing her lips over his chest while wiggling out of her dress.

“I like the heels. Keep the heels.”

Sam unclasped her strapless bra and Harper nixed her thong. She kept the heels.

“I want you flat on your back,” Sam said as he seductively nudged her toward his king-sized bed. “I want to lick every inch of your body, concentrating my energy in one delicious place. I want you to come for me again and again and again. When you’re weak and whimpering I’ll bury myself inside you and make you beg for more.”

Her heart hammered as he yanked back the satiny comforter. “I don’t beg easily,” she warned as she fell back on the pillow-soft mattress.

“Good.” He crawled onto the bed—all panther like and predatory—parted her legs, and lowered his head.

His mouth claimed her heat and within seconds Harper was whimpering, drowning in euphoric sensations. She exploded with a climax. So fast, so intense. Her body quivered and ached for more.
Take me,
her mind whispered. But she refused to beg. She wanted to pleasure Sam with her hands and mouth. To make him crazy with lust. But she hesitated a second too long. He was kissing his way up her body, making her shiver and burn with every flick of his tongue. Her body pulsed with renewed need—building, intensifying. She gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer. She wiggled against his erection—yearning, needing.

“I want to feel you,” she whispered, her heart pounding in her ears.

“You can’t feel this?” Sam asked. He suckled her breast while touching her heat, his fingers stroking, working her up, working her over.

She tensed and came … again and again. “Want you inside me,” she said, voice weak, mind spinning. “Please.”

Sam stilled then shifted, his amazing body hovering over hers, his gorgeous face looking down at her with such intensity, her heart ceased to beat.

She was grateful he didn’t prolong her misery, sighed when he slid inside—so hard, so thick—filling her, pleasing her. She reveled in the friction, the rocking, and pulsing. She should do more, take control, but Sam’s dominance pushed all the right buttons, making her crazy with lust … and love. “Oh, God.”

She buried her hands in his hair—
kissing, kissing, kissing
.

He changed his rhythm, the intensity. His body tensed as he broke the kiss to gaze deeply into her eyes, her soul. “Come for me, wife.”

Wife
.

Harper broke and shattered and soared and shattered some more.

Sam peaked, matching her fervor.

They held each other tight, continued to hold tight.

The words danced through her mind, tingled on her lips.
I love you. I love you I love you
.

Her eyes burned with the beauty of this day, this moment, and with her inability to declare her feelings.

Sam rolled to his side and pulled her against his body. He smoothed her hair from her face.

She saw it in his eyes, sensed what he was feeling, what he was about to say. She gently touched her fingers to his mouth. “Don’t say it.” She needed to say it first. Wanted to say it first. And yet the words froze.

“Okay,” he said after a long second. “But know what I feel.” He clasped her hand then pressed it to his chest.

Overwhelmed, Harper took his other hand and held it close to her breastbone. Their hearts beat hard and fast in tandem and she smiled a little as she repeated the toast she’d remember all her life. “To us. To happy.”

THIRTY-FOUR

Adam was up before the butt-crack of dawn. Restful sleep had eluded him for yet another night this week. His mind wouldn’t shut down. He was trying not to obsess on Peppy. On how great the sex had been with Peppy. How cute she was and how funny she could be when she wasn’t in a pissy mood. Her moods changed with the wind. He chalked it up to her artistic nature. Artists—musicians, actors, painters—tended to be eccentric, right?

Adam swung his legs over the side of his bed, scrubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw, dragged his fingers through his rumpled hair. He glanced toward his window. Still dark outside. He didn’t mind running in the dark and dawn would be on his heels. He needed to burn off this edginess. In addition to work, he had an important meeting this morning. He needed to be focused and sharp, not daydreaming about a pixie half-pint who possessed some wicked moves in bed. A woman who’d named her hoo-haw Lucy.

Oh, yeah
. Lucy and George got along fine. Better than fine. Better than Peppy and Adam.

After their morning romp, they’d taken a morning run. Peppy had bitched throughout most of the jog, she hated running, but she was determined to transform her body. Adam didn’t have a problem with Peppy’s body, but Peppy did. She’d gone off on a tangent about the Ivy Vines in the world getting all the big breaks and how talent rated second to sex appeal. Adam wasn’t in the business. He wasn’t keen on the ins and outs of entertainment, but he knew what he heard and saw and what he liked when it came to music. Or movies, for that matter. And, yeah, okay, sometimes sex and beauty trumped impressive talent.