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He’d had enough of their schmoozing for an entire decade.
In particular he’d had enough of watching slimy wheeler-dealers in the industry put their paws all over Bella. Not that she seemed to do anything to stop them. She smiled and flirted and damn near drove him over the brink as live band music grated in his ears.
Uniformed waiters wove through the crowded living room with canapés and champagne. Having overseen the decor for five Garrison hotels, he studied Bella’s childhood mansion as he stood in the formal living room. The interior was very French Provincial, but not overtly stuffy, with antiques he would wage money had come from around the world. Marble floors stretched throughout a grand foyer with a mammoth evergreen nestled between double-wide staircases, pastel lights glittering along the branches. Hand painted wallpapers and fifteen-foot ceilings all made for a classically grand mansion.
“Sit down.”
His head whipped around to find Lillian Hudson tucked in a wingback chair by the garland-strewn fireplace. “Pardon?”
She rested a thin hand on his arm, her veins showing through near translucent skin. “Sit down, young man, before you start a brawl.”
Sam eased into the wingback beside her, releasing the button on his tuxedo jacket. “My mother raised me better than that, ma’am.”
“I’m glad to hear it, but even my Charles lost some of his silver-spoon ways after seeing one of my smoky on-screen kisses.” She waved her hand, only a slight shake betraying her health crisis. “All of this is just for show. Bella’s a good girl.”
He really didn’t want to talk about Bella’s sex life with her grandmother. “Yes, ma’am. I understand that.”
His eyes lingered on Bella still in her off-white dress from the premiere. Men pressed drinks into her hand that he noticed she stashed on the mantel behind her.
Seeing her on the big screen had impressed the hell out of him. He’d heard of her growing reputation in indy films so he’d expected a decent performance. He hadn’t been prepared for her to blow him away. He admired her talent, although he would be hard-pressed to get that love scene out of his head.
Without question, Honor would catapult her to the next level in her career.
“She’s having a difficult time right now.” Lillian leaned on the arm of the chair, angling closer, her blue eyes still bright and alert. “Her mother and father are just pretending to be polite tonight for my sake, but I know they’re still separated.”
“She has told me about what happened with her parents.” He gently skirted the issue of the affair that produced Bella.
“Really? That’s surprising.” Her gaze darted to her wayward younger son David who smartly kept a full room’s distance between himself and the rest of his family. “I’m ashamed of what David did. I’m afraid I spoiled him with my pampering. I should have treated him as I did my oldest.”
The insight was interesting, but he’d watched his mother blame herself for another man’s actions for too long to let Lillian go to her grave with that weighing on her heart. “Ma’am, if you’ll pardon me for a moment, I believe adults are responsible for their own actions. No blaming others for their own mistakes.”
A slow smile spread over her face with a charming allure that broadcast well what a heartbreaker she must have been in her day. “I like you, young man.”
He patted her hand gently. “The feeling is mutual, ma’am.”
A light scowl puckered her forehead. “Be good to Bella or I will haunt you from the grave.”
Crap. What did a guy say to something like that? He wasn’t used to being caught off guard. In fact, never was. “Umm, ma’am—”
“Loosen up, young man.” She patted his face. “I’m making a joke.” Her hand fell away limply, her spark giving way to exhaustion in a flash. She reached to her other side to an older woman in a simple black dress. “Hannah? I am ready to retire.”
Sam helped Lillian to her feet and offered his arm until she was safely away from the jostling crowd.
He pivoted back around, searching the crush for Bella. All he had to do was look for the largest pack of men, since they seemed drawn to her like magnets to metal. He retrieved his drink and watched, reminding himself that he would be the one finishing out the night with her.
And he intended to make damn sure her dreams included him.
Her hand tucked in the crook of Sam’s arm, Bella strolled leisurely across the Hudson Manor lawn toward her home in the guesthouse. Her filmy gold wrap trailed behind her in the gentle evening breeze on a standard sixty-degree December evening. Champagne and success left her slightly tipsy, even if she had fed plenty of bubbly to unsuspecting potted ferns.
A looming angel fountain spewed water backlit with Christmas red. White lights swayed along branches of trees lining her path past the tennis courts back to her place.
She couldn’t have dreamed up a more perfect setting—or a more intriguing man.
Bella tipped her face up to Sam, her heels sinking in the soft earth. “Thank you for sharing your Christmas with me.”
“I’m here to serve.”
She looked away, staring at the ground to keep from tripping over roots. “I appreciate how you handled the publicity about Ridley. Even my family bought our act.” She glanced up again. “Maybe you should be nominated for an Academy Award.”
He palmed her back, steering her around a wrought-iron bench. “I’m not acting when I say how much I want you.”
“I thought we agreed no sex talk.” Her beaded bag dangled from her arm, her gift for Sam inside.
“No—” he smiled “—you said there wouldn’t be sex. You never specified anything about talk of sex.”
She didn’t want to wade into those waters, not tonight when surely it would lead them into an argument—or lure her into a temptation she wasn’t sure she could resist. Hadn’t she realized tonight that she couldn’t tread into this awkward terrain with him? In spite of her behavior earlier this week, she wasn’t a fling sort of girl.
Bella sprinted forward and turned to face him, walking backward. “Tell me about your family.”
“That was a fairly transparent attempt to change the subject.” He stayed step to step with her in a near dance move.
“As long as you get the message.” She tugged his bow tie. “Isn’t your family missing you over the holidays?”
“I’m an adult. As for immediate family, there’s only my mother. She never had another child, so I don’t have any siblings, just lots of cousins. Mom ventures out of her island hideaway to spend most holidays with them in South Beach. They all have kids and she enjoys being with children at Christmas.”
“She must be expecting some grandchildren from you.” Had she really blurted that? She stumbled to a stop at the base of the three steps leading up to her cottage.
“That’s none of my business. Forget I said it.” Flustered at her blunder, she rested her hands on his chest without thinking. “Thank you again for coming with me tonight.”
His eyes went from guarded to predatory in a spine-tingling flash as sure as the stars overhead.
“My pleasure.” He leaned toward her, his mouth hovering just over hers, the heat of his breath teasing her with a phantom touch. “If I had my way, I would pleasure you even more tonight. If we were still having sex, I would take you back to the limousine. I would tell the chauffeur to drive until I say otherwise. Then I would close the privacy window.”
Her very vivid artistic imagination flourished to life with possibilities for playing out a sexy fantasy she’d never tried before. She started to tell him to stop, but what harm could come from words?
“All night long I’ve been thinking about taking your hair down.” He tugged the lone loose curl, his knuckles grazing between her shoulder blades. “Of how it would feel tumbling down into my hands.”
She struggled to keep her eyes from fluttering closed. “All the hairspray could wreak havoc on your allergies.”
He laughed low. “I’m willing to risk it.” His hands skimmed her arms to cup her waist. “The zipper along your back has driven me crazy all evening long. If I tugged it down, would you be wearing a bra or are you totally bare for me?”
Her breath hitched somewhere around her ribcage. She should make up a tale of boring underwear and save herself the extra ache when she sent him away tonight. But the truth fell out on a breathless, “The bra is built into the dress.”
He growled. “Since we’re not having sex, I have to guess you are only wearing panties.”
She nodded weakly. “Tap pants, actually.”
“Satin?”
She nodded again.
“Creamy colored like the dress. Like your skin. I still remember the silky feel of it under my mouth, sheened with champagne. I couldn’t even drink the stuff tonight for fear it would send me out of control from wanting you.” His lips grazed hers, just barely, but more than enough to ignite her flames through her veins. “God, you look amazing. Every man in the room was thinking what a lucky guy I am.”
His words swirled through her already champagne-woozy mind and lowered defenses. She clenched his lapels, stretching up, craving a full-out kiss.
