conciliatory. “Look, you’ll forget her in a week. You’ll get your head together and you’ll decide you want that money.”
David stared at the older man without comment on his thoughts for the future. Forget Samantha Hastings? Fat chance of that-double entendre intended. Green eyes flashed in his thoughts. Her long, slim legs wrapped around his body as she let him know exactly how well pleased she was with his every touch. No faked response there. Forget her? Frank had no friggin’ idea what the hell he was talking about.
It left a sour taste in his mouth to think that she had played him for a jackass, using that incredible little Mata Hari body and that sweetly innocent smile to make a fucking sap out of him. And he had fallen for it. Settle with her? For money? No, it wasn’t her money he wanted. He wanted far more than money.
David just shrugged and sauntered out of his manager’s room without another word to find his own suite. Let Frank think that. He knew exactly what he wanted. He would flush her out and drag her back if it took every damn dirty trick he knew. He wasn’t going to let her get away with using him, then dumping his ass. No way.
Phyllis was sitting at her desk when Sam stepped into the office. She raised her eyes from the pile of paperwork and smiled broadly. “Well, the book sale receipts for March are in and you and I are both a whole lot richer.” She stretched her arms over her head and kicked her feet up onto the edge of her desk. “So, what is our next project, since you don’t plan to continue with the series?”
Sam returned her smile guiltily. Not being able to write more in the series about her dream man was seriously cramping her style. Book six in the series was in edits, but there would be no book seven. She had seriously tried to write a totally different hero. It had so far been fruitless. She hadn’t managed to put ten words on paper since that night in his hotel room.
Every time she tried to think up a new hero for a new book, she would be assailed by the memory of dark, slumberous eyes that could almost see through her soul. Hands that cupped and teased and heated her body until she almost orgasmed just thinking about them. A hard, sensuous body moving over hers in an erotic dance that melted her body and mind into putty, and lips that left her breathlessly aching for still more wicked pleasure.
“I’m sorta up against a brick wall here, Phyl. I’ve genuinely tried to work up another hero and build other plots. I’m just…stuck!” She twisted her hands irritably into the hem of her sweater, frustration eating at her. “I seriously can’t write another book right now.”
Phyllis’ jaw dropped and her face went pale. “You can’t be serious. I have advance sales posting on book six, and we owe your publisher another book before end of year. I don’t care what the hell you write about. Just write, for Pete’s sake! You can’t dump your career just because you can’t write about one guy!”
Sam sighed and sank into the big chair opposite Phyllis’ desk. “I’ve tried for the past ten days. I just keep drawing a blank. Or I start writing about Chance again and I can’t do that. I promised.”
Oh yes, she had promised. And like an idiot, she had walked out and decided to never see the man again. And now she would have to live with that utterly asinine decision. Try as she might, she couldn’t get him out of her mind, out of her system or out of her fevered dreams. She was so damn pathetic. One night with a hot body and she was a complete basket case. How disgusting.
Phyllis’ voice brought her back to earth. “You damn well better pick up that phone and call him, or I will.”
“Call him for what?” Sam frowned. She hated it when Phyllis was right about things. She had wanted to call the damn man for the past week but she had made her decision and she would stick by it, come hell or high water. Besides, he hadn’t called her either.
“To get his damn ass back here and give you back your inspiration. You are about to throw away a multimillion-dollar writing career because of your damn pride!”
Sam sighed and shrugged. Phyllis was going to be no help at all, she could see. Every damn time she closed her eyes, she was back in David’s arms. She had to get her head screwed on straight again even if that meant she had to buy a one-way ticket to Mars.
And Council Bluffs might as well be Mars…
“It’s about time I took a long vacation, Phyllis. I’ve already made reservations and the ticket is paid for, so don’t try to talk me out of it. I’ll keep in touch and of course I will try to formulate some other characters, but I don’t plan on being back in Cleveland for at least ninety days.” She needed time to get him out of her system for good.
The older woman’s mouth worked soundlessly and Sam patted her hand gently. “Oh, and make sure you pay David Chance that money I promised to send to him. Unless you want a lawsuit of biblical proportions.”
“You can’t just walk off when I’m sitting on the damn hot seat!” Phyllis’ mouth was working like a guppy out of water.
“Oh yes, I can. Watch me. Here I go.” Sam rose from the chair and turned to walk to the door. “You’ll survive. Just give me some room to breathe for the first time in the past two years. I’ve pumped out five best sellers for you and I’m damn tired. I love you, Phyl, but I can’t do this anymore until I get my head screwed back on straight.”
Council Bluffs had been her hometown a long time ago and it held many fond memories for her. It would be a comfortable place to lounge around and take long walks in familiar parks. Of course, nobody lived there who remembered her anymore. Not since her mom had died. But it did feel like home, to some degree. Sort of. Okay, not really. But it was far enough away from Cleveland to make her feel comfortable. Nothing here reminded her of her career or of a breathless night spent living her fantasies. In fact, nothing here even smacked of a fantasy.
She had traveled cheap and fast.
The hotel room was anything but luxurious but it would serve her needs nicely. It had an internet connection and cable TV, so she was set. She didn’t need luxury.
She had only stayed in one four-star hotel in her life and it had been the one night she would never be able to forget. A night spent with a man who had taken her, body and soul, into a world she had only seen in dreams. Into a realm where even a plain, scarred woman could imagine she was somebody special, beautiful, desirable. And, oh my God, had he ever made her feel totally desirable! She shook away the memories and swore at her own inability to get her mind off him. She
If she was lucky, she would get to sleep in until noon and be a lazy slob, letting the maid clean up after her. Eating out and not having to worry about dishes. She owed herself the rest. She owed herself the vacation. She owed herself the time to be alone and think.
She opened the wire door of the small pet carrier to allow her fluffy white cat to step out and check out the locale. She unfolded one of the disposable litter boxes she had bought, fitting a plastic liner in and dumping in a container of deodorized litter. She felt in her bag for the can opener and opened dinner for the cat, which sank down on the floor beside the bed and gobbled hungrily, purring loudly. Pulling the small water bowl from her stuffed purse, she filled it at the bathroom sink, setting it beside the food. Finally, she unpacked her clothes and picked up the
Too bad she couldn’t escape her dreams. Maybe sleeping pills. She stroked the cat’s soft fur gently then flopped onto the bed, where she flipped through the
She watched a tennis match then some polo before fixing her own supper from the little store of junk food she had brought with her. Tomorrow she would go out and have a real meal but for now, she just wanted to kick back. Go barefoot. Enjoy being free of commitments for a few days. And avoid reading romance books.
She was flipping through channels when she came across a UFC match on one of the less well-known cable channels and she watched for a while, wincing when one of the men bloodied the other or got the other guy in a nasty hold. Barbaric. She was about to switch channels when a commercial break came on and she heard an excited man saying, “And stay tuned for the FPW cage match coming up next on CBYN! The Wolfman is gonna take on FPW’s bad boy Chance Braza for the FPW heavyweight Championship! Nine thirty Eastern, eight thirty Central.”
Her hand went numb. She couldn’t press the button. She stared at the face on her TV screen and swallowed
