Foolish Notions Page 11

  “What level of satisfaction have you reached lately?” James asked, his eyes very intense as they moved over her features.

  Warm, creamy desire saturated her skin, sinking into her body, touching every part of her. She struggled to answer the question, because forming sentences was becoming more difficult by the second. “I refuse to answer that question.”

  “Why?” his brow arched into a soft curve. “Do the others pale in comparison?”

  What others, she wanted to yell in his face. She also wanted to scream that the level of satisfaction she had reached in the last year was a big fat zero. It wasn’t from a lack of trying either. She had been out with several men, but when it came down to it, the thought of making love with any of them had repulsed her.

  “Your silence gives you away.” He brushed the tip of her nose with his finger. “That’s okay. I like knowing that no man has given you what I gave you.” Slowly, he dipped his head and kissed her as innocently as a child might kiss a parent. “Speechless, that doesn’t happen often, now, does it?” he whispered against her lips.

  Samantha’s head was reeling with thoughts. She wanted him; there was no denying it. Her body made it painfully clear, because it ached to the very core for him. The discovery was appalling. After a year of loathing him, how could she possibly want him?

  “I like to see you aroused and fighting it.” His lips met hers again but this time he barely brushed them over her.

  “Stop kissing me,” she demanded as she pulled back. “And I’m not aroused.”

  He laughed. “I also like seeing you deny it,” he said as he turned and began putting the groceries away. “You won’t be able to stay that way for long.”

  “You’re right. I won’t be able to stay that way for long because I’m not aroused.”

  Turning, he watched her for a moment. “I meant denying it, Angel.” He retrieved the cans off the counter and handed them to her. “There will be a time when you won’t deny what you’re feeling right now.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.”

  “I won’t have to. I’m patient.”

  “This conversation is over,” she snapped irritably.

  “Sure.” He shook his head. “If we keep talking about it we might just end up on that broken lounge—”

  “James!”

  He raised his hands in the air. “You won’t hear another peep out of me.”

  Samantha was a jumbled mess of nerves as she reached for the cans. The area just beneath her skin tingled violently. She could barely concentrate on the task of stacking cans in the pantry. When she came out of the small room, she didn’t make eye contact with him for several minutes. She needed enough time to force her body to stop shaking and her heart to slow its erratic pace.

  She put the rest of the groceries away like she was on a strategic mission. She was so focused on the task that she hardly noticed James working around the kitchen beside her. She spoke only when she knew her voice was steady. “Do you want me to fill you in on how your mom’s treatment went today?”

  “Of course. We talked a little about it, but she didn’t really say much. How did she handle it?”

  Her calming breaths were working. “I think she handled it well. I could tell in the beginning she was very apprehensive. Eventually she relaxed a little.”

  He folded the last paper bag and tucked it into a narrow cupboard. “Do you want some coffee?”

  “Sure, I’ll have a cup.” If he could pretend nothing happened so could she. He wasn’t the only one who could be flippant.

  Chapter Eleven

  Over coffee, they talked about his mom’s treatment for almost an hour. Samantha took him through the entire process step by step. She didn’t want him to feel like he was being left in the dark, because James was the type of man who needed to know what was happening at all times—it kept him in control.

  On the way to the hospital, Marie had shared with her that she had asked James not to come. Samantha knew that type of request would test James’s dependable and loyal nature to the limit. She wasn’t sure it was the best choice, but she understood Marie’s decision and she respected it.

  “The most important thing we can do right now is protect against infection.” Samantha ran over a list of symptoms of infection so he would know what to look for. “Make sure to wash your hands frequently, especially after you come home from work. I think we should limit her visitors for the next few days, too.”

  James nodded. “I don’t think she’s up to seeing anyone anyway.”

  “Not likely.” She stretched her legs, resting them on the coffee table.

  “So, this is as bad as it will get?” he asked hopefully.

  She swallowed a mouth full of coffee and shook her head.

  “It could get worse?” He spoke the words bleakly. Picturing his mom even sicker than she already was, was daunting. He couldn’t fathom that she could possibly get any worse.

  “Maybe, maybe not. Since this is the beginning of her treatment it could go either way. I’ve seen it at both ends of the spectrum. Some people are mildly affected; they don’t lose much hair, their appetites don’t decrease, and they don’t get nauseated.

  Then there are people who have every reaction imaginable.

  There’s no telling what else could happen. It really depends on how her body handles the drug.” Restlessly, she got up and moved to the window; pulling aside the curtain, she looked out at the black ocean. “I’ve already called the doctor and requested a stronger anti-nausea drug.”

  He watched her curiously. Her attention had been divided between him and the window most of their conversation. “I never knew there was even such a thing.”

  “There are many new drugs available to help with the side effects of chemo. The trick is to find the right ones for each individual. If we find the right combination for Marie, she’ll have an easier time with her future treatments.”

  “If there is anything I can do, you’ll let me know?”

  “Of course I will,” she said as she looked over her shoulder at him. “What? What are you looking at?”

  He motioned to the window. “You’ve been staring out the window for the last ten minutes.” It’s beautiful out there. The moon is almost full and it’s just amazing against the sand,” she said as she let the curtain fall back.

  “You want to go for a walk?”

  She glanced at her watch before looking at him. “It’s getting late and I really don’t think—”

  “Come on, we won’t be long.” He took her coffee from her and placed it on the table with his. “I think we could both use it.”

  She hesitated, but after a moment she nodded.

  “Good.”

  Once outside, she moved across the deck to a chair. “Wait.”

  “What are you doing?” James asked as he watched her sit.

  She bent down and untied the laces of her shoes. “The only way to walk on the beach is barefooted.”

  They strolled down to the water and allowed the cool surf to lap around their ankles. Silently, they walked up the beach, enjoying the cool breeze, the crashing of the waves, and the twinkling lights from the endless row of prestigious houses. The exclusive area had miles of private sandy beach.

  Samantha looked over at James when she spoke. “Ginger came in this morning, and when she saw me she all but danced out of the room, saying ‘I knew it, I knew it.’ ” She scrunched her nose. “I don’t understand her.”

  James chuckled. “Don’t even try.”

  “I feel like I’m missing half of what she’s saying when I have a conversation with her.”

  “Join the crowd.”

  “So, I’m not alone.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t even attempt to figure that woman out or you’ll go crazy trying. She’s a mystery that can never be solved.” He raised his hands. “All I know is, she’s one hell of a housekeeper, and she makes a mean loaf of cinnamon bread.” Several moments of silence lapsed before James turned to her s
eriously and asked, “What have you been doing for the last year?”

  She shrugged and tilted her head into the wind. “Not much. Mostly working.”

  “You’re still at Mercy Hospital?”

  The salty air filled her lungs and Samantha nodded. “Of course. I don’t think I’ll ever leave. I love the staff.”

  “How’s your brother doing?”

  “He’s doing well. He and Connie are expecting another baby.”

  “So, that’ll make three?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can imagine that Casey and Lynn are excited about the new one.” Casey had only been an infant the last time James saw him. He was probably walking and talking by now. And the beautiful, big-eyed Lynn had been starting kindergarten. He could only imagine how much they’d changed over the last year.

  “They are. Casey wants it to be a boy and Lynn wants it to be a girl.”

  “Sounds about right. Things have been so busy I haven’t gotten to ask how Marisa is doing. Is she still photographing the rich and famous?”

  “Yes. She’s opened another studio, too.”

  “Business must be good.”

  “It is. She’s worked hard for it, so she deserves it.” She looked over at him. “I see you’ve been busy, too.”

  His eyes met hers. “How so?”

  “You’ve been in the newspaper three times in the last two months. And that’s just in the paper I get.” She pulled her hair to the side as it caught in the wind. “And let’s not forget the little blurb in Fortune 500.” Her gaze drifted off into space. “What was the headline? ‘The Greatest CEO Ever.’ ”

  James shook his head and tried to deny the title. “I don’t think it said that.”

  “Okay, it was more like ‘James Taylor Is Taking the Industry by Storm, Conquering Deal after Deal.’ ”

  He smiled at the animated authoritative tone she used.

  “What, is this modesty I’m detecting?” She gave him a gentle shove. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to.”

  James gave her a sideways glance and said, “How does it feel to be walking on the beach with one of the world’s top ten CEOs?” He stuck his chest out and strutted around her.

  She laughed. “Now, that sounds more like it.” When he stopped and resumed his position beside her, she spoke, “I’m proud of you. I know it’s not easy doing what you do.”

  He noted the change in her tone. She was serious. “I think that can be said about both our jobs.”

  A big wave crashed against Samantha legs. “This feels wonderful. Do you still jog every day?”

  “I try. Although since Mom moved in I haven’t had much time.”

  Samantha kicked at a wave and then laughed as it splashed around her, sending small droplets of water in the air. “When did she move in?”

  “A little over two weeks ago. She still has her condo in Beach Point. I thought it would be best if she wasn’t alone.” He reached for her arm, pulling her away from a surprise wave that had surged unexpectedly far up the beach and wrapped around her calves and knees.

  “I agree.” She looked down at her soaked pants, amused.

  “She was very reluctant at first,” James continued. “Believe it or not, she claimed she couldn’t leave because all her roses would die if she did. She was going on and on about feeding schedules, proper watering cycles, and she even claimed that she needed to be there to talk to them.”

  “Yes, that sounds like your mom.” She stopped and picked up a shell. “How did you get around that one?”

  “I reminded her that she not only has an automatic watering system but also a gardener. That made it pretty hard to argue with.” He regarded the shell she held in her hand. “You’re not going to attempt to make something with that are you?”

  “I might.” She looked over at him. “Why, would you like to put in a request?”

  He shook his head. “Just be careful.”

  Another wave licked her legs and she sighed in enjoyment. “Walking on the beach in the moonlight is good for the soul. I haven’t done this since—” Her words trailed off..

  The tone in her voice was an instant giveaway. Instinctively, the hairs on the back of James’s neck prickled. An uneasy feeling consumed him. Something just happened but he wasn’t sure what it was. The mood definitely shifted. “Since when?” he asked firmly.

  She shook her head carelessly, looking down at the water. “It’s just been a while, that’s all I meant.”

  It was hard to see her face in the dark, so James took her by the arm and stopped her. He moved her so the moonlight could bath her features. “Since when?” he repeated.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “I think it does.”

  Her voice was low and evasive as she took a step away from him. “I think it doesn’t.”

  She could give him all the dirty looks she wanted. He wasn’t going to let it rest until he had an answer. “When was the last time you took a moonlit walk on the beach?”

  “James, don’t.” She looked around and lifted her hands in the air, expressing her pleasure. “It’s so beautiful out here. Don’t ruin it.”

  “When Samantha?” His words were a low growl that rumbled in his chest. She was keeping something from him. Something personal, something that had to do with the both of them, and he didn’t like it.

  Samantha hesitated briefly before speaking. “It’s been a long day. Please, let’s end it with a nice relaxing walk and not an argument.”

  James watched her tensely. Something wasn’t right. “You love the beach, the water, the sand, the sun.” He added, “You were practically raised on the beach.”

  “I did love it at one time.”

  “What do you mean, you did? You don’t just stop loving all this.” He ran his hand through his wind-blown hair. “Damn it, answer me.”

  “I haven’t been to the beach since I left you,” she answered blandly.

  “That’s been over a year. What does that have to do with anything?”

  Samantha’s eyes turned as dark as the ocean, which thrashed loudly behind her. Pain and anger swam in the blue murky depths. Her teeth raked over her bottom lip until it almost bled. Hair whipped around her face and she did nothing to try to contain it.

  Her expression landed like a blow to James’s abdomen. He wanted to grab her and pull her to him but he didn’t dare touch her. “Is it because the last time we—”

  She raised her hand suddenly, almost frantically.

  “—we made love, it was on the beach?” He finished his sentence.

  James stared at her as he remembered the night. The water had been cool against their warm skin. The sand had conformed to their bodies as they pressed deep into it. The rough surface had only added to the magnificent sensations they were feeling. She had tasted of salt and passion. Their intense lovemaking had lasted for hours under the soft glow of the moon. Tired, they had lain in the surf, speaking of their love for one another.

  “Do you really hate me that much?” he said suddenly.

  “Hate is a strong word,” she said quickly. “If I hated you I wouldn’t be here.”

  His head cocked to one side, trying to figure her out. “Then why are you here?”

  “To take care of your mom.”

  “No, I mean here.” He pointed toward the ground.

  She shook her head. “Don’t read anything into this, James. I’m living in your house as a nurse. I’m here,” she pointed to the sand, “because it’s beautiful and I didn’t realize how much I missed it until now.”

  “Now, with me?”

  “No. Now, meaning when I moved in your home and it became my back yard. I’m not the one who ruined what we had, James.”

  “I didn’t ruin anything. You were the one who walked out on us.”

  “You’re insane, do you know that?” She pointed her finger at him. “There is no way in hell that you can turn this around and put the blame on me.”

  “You left. You left me.” He squeezed
his eyes shut. “Christ, Samantha, we had just made mind-boggling love. It was so intense I feared I’d never recover from it. And you walked away.” He shook his head. “Don’t you remember what we had?

  Don’t you remember what we shared that night?”

  Samantha didn’t move.

  He couldn’t have stopped himself if he wanted to. Moving to her, he pushed the hair away from her face and with both hands cupped her cheeks. He eased her gently to him. “You remember our last night here don’t you?”

  Her cold eyes never once blinked. Not even when the wind whipped her hair around them.

  James grimaced, but wouldn’t allow her frosty demeanor to persuade him into believing that she had forgotten. He would chisel away at it until he broke through and found what she was really feeling. His thumbs traced over the arch of her cheeks to the corners of her eyes. “Tell me what you remember.”

  She refused to make eye contact. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “Look at me, Samantha. Look me in the eyes and tell me you remember.” He gently turned her head so her eyes met his.

  “Tell—”

  Her blue eyes caught his gaze and held it. “I remember.”

  “What? What do you remember?”

  Somehow, she mustered up enough strength to shove his hands away. She fought the tears that stung her eyes. “I remember.” She was shouting now as she took several giant steps away from him. “I see us in the water making love. I feel our bodies pressing in the sand. I feel you on me, touching me, in me, loving me. But I also see you holding another woman in your arms only hours after we made love. That’s what I remember. That’s what I think about when I come to the beach.” She blinked back the tears that the wind threatened to expose. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

  “Angel—”

  She glared challengingly at him. “Are you happy now, or do you want to hear more?”

  James hung his head and shook it. “No, I don’t want to hear any more.”

  “Because if you don’t remember I can tell you what color dress she was wearing.” The tears spilled from her eyes and were spread across her cheeks by the wind. “It was red.”

  “Stop,” he demanded.

  “Do you remember the color of her eyes?” she continued. “I do.”