Dreaming Of Your Love (Hollywood Legends #3) (10 page)

She
had never known hunger, but she’d seen the results. There were entire villages
in the Middle East that subsisted on a few crusts of bread a day. The water, if
they had any, needed boiling before it could be drunk. Sable knew how lucky she
was to be warm and safe. It made that refrigerator full of food all the more
obnoxious.

The
last bite of sandwich sat on her plate. The apple, juicy and crisp, was nothing
but a core wrapped neatly in a paper napkin. Sable downed the last of her
second bottle of water. She felt better with a full stomach. She always did.
Her current perspective on her inconvenient attraction to Colt was a work in
progress. But she was getting there.

Sable
put the few items she had dirtied into the dishwasher and decided she should be
able to sleep. She closed her bedroom door just as her phone rang. One glance
at the screen and the tension began seeping back into her shoulders.

“Mom.
How are you?”

“Me?
Me?”

Sable
held the phone away from her ear, convinced the speech was loud enough to travel
three thousand miles without the aid of modern technology.

“Why
didn’t you tell me?” Iris demanded. “Did you quit your job? My friends are
having a field day, laughing behind my back. My daughter, the kept woman.”

“I
didn’t quit my job and Colt isn’t
keeping me
. Your friends need to
update their terminology.”

“You
think this is funny? A joke?”

Sable
wished she could laugh. Unfortunately, her mother didn’t inspire joviality.

Dutifully,
Sable listened to the litany of imagined woes her mother suffered daily because
of her ungrateful daughter. It went on and on. Long enough for her to brush her
teeth, wash her face, and change her clothes. Sable left the drawer filled with
sexy nightwear untouched. Instead, she slipped on her usual t-shirt and boxers.

“What
will your father say?”

That
refocused Sable’s attention.

“He
doesn’t know?”

“I
certainly haven’t told him. God knows what he’s heard. As you know, when it
comes to gossip, an Army base is worse than a beauty parlor.”

Oh,
she knew
.
Better
than most.

“If
he says anything, ask him to call me.”

“So
you can explain?”

Yes.
But she wasn’t going to tell her mother that.

“There’s
nothing to explain. I’m living with Colton Landis.”

“Oh,
Sable.” Disappointment. It seemed like the only reaction her mother could manage.
“You didn’t listen to me when you were a teenager. Why should I expect that to
change? Men chew you up and spit you out. It’s in their DNA. What will you do
when he gets tired of you?”

“Maybe
I’ll get tired of him.”

“Please,”
Iris scoffed. “The glamour? The money? I’ll bet he’s bought you a bunch of
expensive clothing.”

Sable
hesitated a moment too long.

“He’s
seduced you with luxury. You’ll never willingly give that up.”

It
took Iris another twenty minutes to wind down. She ended by reminding Sable
that the clothing belonged to her.

“When
he dumps you, don’t be a fool. Take everything that isn’t nailed down.”

Words
to live by. With that kind of twisted morality, Sable wondered why she didn’t
make a living wrapping herself around a stripper pole.

Because
in the Ford household, her father’s words always rang loudest. Whether she was
in a dirt poor, war-ravaged village in Afghanistan or a luxurious multi-million-dollar
Los Angeles loft, Mathias Ford kept Sable on the straight and narrow.

No
matter their personal situation, he was, and would always be, her moral
compass.

Sable
hung up. She closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. She was
tempted, but she couldn’t turn off her phone. So she plugged it in and set it on
the nightstand.

Time
to unwind. Music. The best cure for the Nagging Mother Blues. Sable put in her
earphones, hit her favorite playlist, rested her head on the pillow, and let
her mind shut down and blissfully drift away.

COLT FELT LIKE an idiot. Holing up in his bedroom like a petulant
three-year-old. He hadn’t accomplished a thing.

He
was hungry and tired. And instead of spending the evening with Sable, he’d
wasted it sulking. He should have apologized immediately and saved himself the
added embarrassment of having to do it hours after the fact.

A
bit of anger lingered. When he set up the surprise, Colt imagined a different
outcome. In his fantasy, Sable threw her arms around him, excited by the new
wardrobe. She rushed from item to item, exclaiming over each one, holding it up
and twirling in a giddy circle.

Colt
lowered his head to the marble counter, knocking his forehead against the
surface several times. He felt it, but it didn’t knock any sense into him.

Did
he know Sable at all? Apparently not. How many times had he said she was
different? She didn’t giggle or flutter or lavish him with extravagant
compliments. She didn’t care about fame or money. At least, she didn’t care
about his.

From
day one, Sable treated his family like regular people, not Hollywood royalty.

In
his defense, he hadn’t been trying to buy her. He wanted to give her a few nice
things to wear and enjoy. In his enthusiasm, he must have made it sound like he
was outfitting Sable for the next year, or five. The items were beautiful and
perfect, but there were too many of them. Way too many.

Colt
glanced across the room. Sable’s door was shut. No surprise. It was after
eleven. Had he expected her to wait up on the off chance he came to his senses?
She would be asleep—not worrying about him.

Colt
put together a sandwich, making a mental note to send the extra food to the
shelter first thing in the morning. After that, he needed to call Paige and
Jade. It seemed he had apologies to make all around.

The
roast beef and cheddar tasted like cardboard, but he finished it and the glass
of milk. The idea of going back to his big, empty bed depressed Colt. Damn it.
He didn’t want to wait. Maybe Sable was still awake. He would sleep much easier
if he cleared the air between them right away.

Taking
a deep breath, Colt lightly tapped on her door. When she didn’t answer, he knew
he should leave her alone. But something made him push on. Slowly, trying to be
as quiet as possible, Colt turned the doorknob. He peeked inside, hoping to
find her reading or watching television.

The
lamp on the end table glowed, the light low.

Sable
wasn’t under the covers. She lay on her back, her head turned away from him.
Colt smiled. He knew the dresser contained three or four lacy nightgowns.
Naturally, Sable left them where they were. Instead, she wore a well-worn
Seattle Mariners t-shirt and a pair of men’s boxer shorts.

Seeing
her long, smooth legs stretched out on the quilted blanket, Colt decided he
preferred her choice. God, she was sexy. Her toned body made his mouth water.
The slight swell of her breasts, the curve of her jaw. The short dark cap of
glossy hair framed by the white pillowcase.

Sable
Ford was the exact opposite of every woman he’d been with. Yet, for some
reason, simply looking at her moved him more than all of them combined.

Colt
noticed the earphones. No wonder he hadn’t disturbed her. Sable could hear a
pin drop in a hurricane. He wondered what kind of music she liked. He sighed.
One more thing he didn’t know about her.

He
took a blanket from the bureau and lightly draped it over Sable. Beginning
tomorrow, he would ask questions. He wanted to know about her childhood. Where
had she lived? Any pets? Had she worn braces? What caused the shadows that
occasionally crept into her beautiful eyes?

“I’m
not sleeping.”

Sable
whispered the words, but Colt heard them clearly. He settled the blanket over
her shoulders, then lightly brushed her skin with the back of his fingers.

“Are
you still mad?”

“No.”
Sable opened her eyes. In the dim light, the color looked like rich, warm
chocolate. “Are you?”

“No.
I’m sorry. I—hey.” He noticed the drying tears. “You’ve been crying.”

Colt
watched as Sable did her best to rein in her emotions.

“I’m
a little sad.”

“I’ll
send every last stitch of clothing back, first thing in the morning.”

Sable’s
lips curved. “Not because of that.” She hesitated, her eyes clouding over. “I
miss my father.”

“Want
to talk about it?”

“Not
right now.”

“Slide
over.” Colt lifted the blanket and joined her on the bed.

“Colt.
This is a bad idea.” But Sable moved enough to let Colt lie beside her.

“Shh.”
Colt removed one of her earbuds. “Relax.”

He
put the bud in his ear and settled beside her. Colt didn’t recognize the tune.
It was smooth and bluesy. The kind of song that spoke to your soul.

Colt
closed his eyes. He didn’t sleep with women. They played. Sex and games. They
dozed. But sleep? No.

For
the first time in his adult life, he wanted nothing more than the comfort and
warmth of a body next to his. Sable’s body.

Colt
didn’t touch her. The connection came through the music. However, when Sable
slid her hand into his, he felt something stir in his heart. It wasn’t
something to worry about or analyze. It—this—felt good. Right.

The
notes of the song and the sound of Sable’s breathing lulled him, pushing him
closer to sleep. The feel of her hand sent him over the edge.

SABLE TURNED OFF the iPod. She didn’t look at the clock. Her
body told her it was an hour or so before dawn. Colt’s chest rose and fell in a
steady, easy rhythm. She listened to his breathing, looked at his slightly
parted lips, and wondered at having him in her bed.

The
circumstances were nothing like she had imagined. She had pictured something
more X-rated. They were fully clothed and hadn’t shared as much as a kiss. Did
holding hands count as getting to first base? Not in her book.

Women
all over the world dreamed of Colton Landis spending the night. Sable would bet
almost anything those dreams included a lot more than sleep. But she wouldn’t
have changed a thing.

Colt
could have taken advantage of her vulnerability. She wouldn’t have objected.
One kiss. She would have melted into his arms, happy to feel something other
than the heavy sadness that pushed down on her chest. However, instead of
seducing, he comforted. Somehow he understood that she didn’t need sex, she
needed him.

Gently,
Sable removed the earbuds and set the iPod on the end table.

“Hi,”
Colt smiled and Sable’s heart turned over.

“Hi.”
Without thinking, she brushed the dark, wavy hair from his forehead.

“How
did you sleep?”

“Great.”

“Me
too.”

“Colt?”
Sable met his gaze. The light was at his back but she could see the tenderness
in his eyes.

“Hmm?”

Slowly,
deliberately. So there could be no doubt of her intent, Sable kissed him.

Colt
opened his mouth, his tongue lightly bathing her bottom lip. It was sweet. The
kind of kiss shared at the end of a first date. They weren’t in a hurry. There
was no desperation. Their hands, the ones that had remained clasped as they
slept, prevented their bodies from touching.

“Thank
you.”

“My
pleasure,” Colt grinned.

“Not
for the kiss. Though that was lovely. Thank you for last night. For staying
with me.”

“You
never have to be alone, Sable.” Colt kissed the corner of her mouth. “I like
sleeping with you.”

“This
must be a first.”

“I
was thinking the same thing.”

“I
would hate to ruin your reputation.” Sable sat up and pulled off her shirt.

“Sable.”
Colt swallowed. Her breasts were perfect. Better than he imagined. High and
firm. Her hard nipples the color of ripe cherries. It took all his willpower
not to reach out. “This isn’t necessary.”

“If
it were, I wouldn’t be here.” She smiled, slow and seductive. “You can say no.”

“No,
I can’t.”

In
one fluid motion, Colt threw off the blanket and pulled her leg over him until
she straddled his hips.

“So
you like what you see?” she asked. It was a rhetorical question. Colt’s
expression, the heat in his blue eyes, told her everything she needed to know.

Colt
cupped her breast with his hand, his thumb rubbing the tight bud of her nipple.
Sable watched the movement, almost hypnotized. She was a visual person.
Imagining his hands on her was exciting. Seeing the reality sent a wave of
pleasure shooting through her body.

“So
soft,” he murmured. “Every time I touch you, I think of silk. Only better.
Infinitely better.”

“Years
of copious amounts of lotion. It’s my addiction.”

“I
approve.” Colt’s eyes darkened. He ran a finger over her other breast. “I can’t
decide which would be sexier. Watching you smooth the cream over your body or
doing it myself.”

“Why
not both?” She moaned.

“Sounds
perfect.” Colt whipped his shirt over his head. He rose until his mouth was
even with her breasts. “
You
are perfect.”

Sable’s
head fell back. God, one touch of his tongue and she felt ready to come undone.
So much anticipation. Every moment, every look, every brush of his hand. It led
to this moment. Endless foreplay.

She
had tried to be good. She had meant to resist. The attraction was there before
she came to Hollywood. It started months ago with a scorching kiss. She hadn’t
expected to see him again, let alone spend every waking moment in his company.

One
week of watching Colt. Laughing with him. Teasing and taunting. The world
believed they were lovers. Her friends encouraged her to make it true. Even her
boss had given her the green light.