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* * *
ON A PRIVATE PLANEheading to Los Angeles, Jerry Goldman glanced at his watch. If he skipped his usual stop at the studio he’d be at home in time for dinner. Vera was away, and he’d be dining alone with Tia. The thought tantalized him.
He wanted to see her.
Picking up the phone, he called his house.
“Hi, Jerry. This is a surprise. Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine. Listen, I’ll be landing soon and I’m coming straight home. I want to have dinner with you, but at home.”
“Uh...Vera’s away. All I have is some leftover Chinese chicken salad.”
“I know she is. Have something delivered. Italian. I’ll be there in an hour.”
“I’d like that,” she remarked softly. “We haven’t had dinner alone in ages.”
“Good. I’ll see you soon.”
Ending the call, he stared out at nothingness.
New York had been a bitch.
He needed to spend some quality time with his glamorous wife...but he was feeling the need for more from their relationship. Plucking the last crumb of a Mylanta tablet from his tooth with the end of his tongue, he pictured her in something slinky. He was suddenly determined to make the evening ahead something very special.
* * *
TIA FELT AN UNFAMILIARtwinge.
Jerry’s suggestion for dinner had almost sounded like an order.
As a tremor of excitement shivered through her body, she thought back to her flirtation with Tony, and realized Jerry had spoken to her with authority, just like Tony had done on the tennis court—and in the hallway.
An epiphany took hold.
It wasn’t Tony who had fired his imagination and stirred her sexual being, but his threat to put her over his knee.
Did she want a father figure, or something else? She didn’t know, but she sure as hell wanted to find out.
