Out of Her Dreams

she blushed even more beautifully. “I wouldn’t worry about me suing you for that. But if you refuse my offer of dinner and a drink, I think that would definitely qualify as breach of promise.”

Sam was stunned by his amusement. She watched as a heart-stopping grin spread over that handsome face and she put a hand to her throat to calm her pounding heart. He was making fun of her. He might think it was funny but she knew it wasn’t. She needed to salvage this moment and cover her ass.

“I truly, truly am so sorry for any inconvenience or embarrassment my books have caused for you, Mr. Chance. You’ve got to believe that. I can have the unsold ones pulled and new covers made.” Her voice was breathless and small.

“Call me David, since you appear to know me so damn well. And I think I should call you Samantha.” His voice held a deep rasp of something hot and distracting.

“Sam.” She felt hot and distracted.

“Sam?”

“My friends call me Sam. I was sort of a tomboy growing up. Samantha didn’t fit.” She blushed as she realized she had just given him way too much information about herself. Stop babbling, Sam.

He smiled wickedly down at her, those oh-so-sexy lips curling into an expression that sent her blood racing like she’d just run ten miles. “No self-respecting tomboy would kiss a man like you just did, Sam. But then, no fantasy hero who called himself a gentleman would kiss a woman like I just did, either. So I guess that makes us about even.”

His dark eyes and devastating smile left her body reeling with what she could only describe as pure, unadulterated lust. At least, what pure, unadulterated lust seemed like to someone who’d never actually felt it before. Not in the flesh, anyway. She drew a shaky breath and exhaled loudly, trying to clear her mind and calm her raging pulse. She pointed at the door and shoved her hair back from her hot face.

“Um… I have to go back out there and finish the book signing. You can sneak out the rear door to avoid the ladies. Look, here’s my card.” She patted her slim hips, seeking the pocket her card case was in. “You have to let me know what I can do to make this awful mistake up to you. Or I can have my attorney call you. Whichever.” She stopped patting her sides and then blushed again. She felt like a total ass. She had left her jacket with her business cards in the bookstore at the signing table. “Uh, I’ll call you if you give me your card. Mine are in there.” She gestured with her head toward the other side of the door.

David watched the blush flow so deliciously over her face again and again. He was totally fascinated by the way her eyes lit up with emotion then darted away to hide her soul from him. This woman was a wild ride-in more ways than one. He pulled his wallet out of the back pocket of his slacks and drew out a card and held it just out of her reach, his dark eyes searching her face.

“If your lawyer calls instead of you, there will be a lawsuit.” His words came out more like a feral growl than a simple sentence. His eyes noted the shock in her expression. “I expect a call from you the minute you are done here. Understand? Oh and don’t forget my book. I paid for it. I expect you to bring it to me when you meet me for dinner and a drink.” He lowered the card and she took it with shaking fingers.

He pulled open the door to face the agitated and flushed business manager and he said with a sexily crooked smile, “I’ll just go out the back way. Sorry about upsetting the ladies. I promise I’ll make it up to them sometime.” He touched the woman’s cheek with one long, lean finger and turned on the full charm package.

Phyllis just nodded, obviously overwhelmed by the sheer size and magnificence of the man who had just smiled so beautifully down at her. She stared after him until he had vanished out the back door of the store and then she turned back to Sam, who was smoothing her hair with shaking hands.

“My God, Sam. I just found out who that man is. I had no idea you knew any professional wrestlers. What a hunk! How on earth did you get him to let us use his image and name?”

The look on her star writer’s face made her blink and groan. She stared in horror as understanding dawned. “Oh Sam. I hope to hell he likes you enough not to take every bit of the profit we’ve made on this damn series. I’ll go belly up! What the hell possessed you to take that liberty without getting written permission?”

Sam shrugged defensively and her eyes looked glazed. “I could not even begin to explain this mess to you, or anyone else, Phyllis. I have never met that man before today.”

“And yet you used his name and used his face and body on the cover of your books? My God, Sam. That’s professional suicide.”

“You don’t understand!” Sam shoved her hair from her face with a shaky hand. “I never even saw him before today. I didn’t just see some hot man I drooled over and slap his face into print. I’m not that friggin’ stupid. I can’t even begin to imagine how it happened.” She paced back and forth in agitation. “I had a wild, crazy wet dream when I was just fourteen and it starred that man. I genuinely didn’t know he existed outside my dreams and imagination. I doubt anyone even knew who he was back then. I don’t know, maybe I’m a closet psychic and got some vibes or something. I just don’t know!”

Phyllis stared at her as if she were completely insane. “Nobody on earth would buy that ridiculous story. They might buy your fantasy romance novels but no judge will buy that wild explanation.”

“I hope it won’t have to go that far. He wants to see me later for dinner. Maybe I can get him to settle out of court. And I won’t commit any money of yours. Just my own. Don’t worry…I can always sell everything I own to pay what he feels it’s worth.” Sam drew a shaking breath. If I survive dinner.

“I have no idea what to tell those women out there, Sam. They are absolutely rabid to get his signature on their books.”

“Well, they’re just going to have to settle for mine. Providing they still want to buy my books.” She straightened her skirt and strode past her friend and business associate. “Lord protect me from my own stupidity.”

The women who had seen him were disappointed that he hadn’t stayed to sign their books and let them feast their eyes on him. Sam found the book that she had signed for him and she tucked it covertly into her shoulder bag, along with his card. As she fingered the edge of the white business card, she had to force down the wave of sheer heat that the memory of their minutes in the stockroom conjured up. She had really gotten herself into a pickle now. And saints preserve her, she desperately wanted to be right back in that damn stockroom with him right now.

* * * * *

The rest of the afternoon went fairly quickly as another two hundred and forty books were whisked off the shelves and out of just-opened boxes and brought for her to sign. As the afternoon progressed, and news circulated that the cover model who had posed for her books had actually been none other than a real live professional wrestler with biceps the size of footballs and a body to die for, she found herself under a barrage of questions…and she had no honest answers.

She found herself avoiding answering questions about how she had met the infamous “bad boy” of the wrestling world. Most of these women had never even seen or heard of the man, just like her, but now they all seemed to know who he was and that he was allegedly the hidden inspiration for her larger-than-life hero, Chance Davis.

There were even a few die-hard wrestling fans standing in line for her novel by the end of the day and when the supply of new books was exhausted, they stripped the shelves of her older books, the earlier parts of the series. It amazed her that gossip travelled faster than the speed of sound.

She lifted her eyes to the face of a young man with rings through his nose and lip, who was grinning down at her. “You’re a fan of my romance novels?” she asked with a look of surprise.

The youth wagged his brows at her and grinned. “Nope but I’m a big fan of Chance Braza!” He indicated the face of her hero on the cover. “I bought the book for my girlfriend but I get to hang the cover on my wall.”

Chance Braza? So that was his pro wrestling name. She smiled wryly and signed the flyleaf, “To Chance’s biggest fan. Samantha Hastings”. He crowed and yelled back over the line to someone standing by the door, “I got it!”

Her day ended an hour and a half after the store had closed its doors for the afternoon. That was how long it took to clear out the crowd of waiting customers who had bought her books. After the last person had vacated the store, she sank back and massaged her aching hand and gratefully took the pair of painkillers Phyllis held out to her with a fresh glass of cool water.

“Well, that seemed like something straight out of the Twilight Zone.” She tried not to sound completely exhausted as she picked up her bag and jacket and shrugged into the sleeves.