RULES OF LOVE (A Navy SEALs Romance) (37 page)

"Nothing. I don’t think he’s attracted to me. I think he was trying to spite an ex-girlfriend."

"What? That's low. Are you sure?”

"I don’t know. That’s what it looked like. We had just met and started to talk, then this poster girl approached us and he asked me to kiss him.”

“And you said yes?”

“No, I said nothing, and he kissed me.”

"And then you ran off?” Amy looked at me incredulously.

“Sort of,” I answered, avoiding her gaze. Amy had a way of making me regret my actions, and she was doing a good job of making me feel like I had done something wrong.

"Sara, please tell me you didn't walk out on the richest man in the world because he kissed you."

"I don’t…"

"Tell me you didn't let Nick Saunders slip out of your hands because he kissed you."

"Amy, the guy kissed me without my permission."

"You just told me he asked you.”

“Yes, sort of.”

“Did you want him to kiss you?”

“Yes, kind of,” I said. Now that I was away from him, I admitted I had loved the feel of his mouth on mine.

“Amy! Do you know how many girls would die to have him touch them? And he went as far as kissing you. Nick Saunders is not a kisser!”

"How would you know that?” I asked, but before she could answer, I figured it out. “You read it somewhere.”

“Yes, I did. He said he never kisses women. Too intimate for him.”

“I guess he lied then,” I said.

"Or maybe he likes you.”

"I don’t know,” I said.

"Did he enjoy it?” Amy asked.

“Fuck, Amy. How would I know?” I said. “He didn’t seem to mind, but that doesn’t give him the right to kiss me without my permission. We're two different people. In my world, men ask for permission to kiss women. No, only a man I am dating has a right to kiss me. I don’t care how rich he is, a random stranger cannot just kiss me because he can buy the whole world. I don't know about you, but..."

"That's okay, Sara. I spent the whole week getting you ready and this is how it ends. You're telling me I'm a whore because you're a virgin?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then what are you saying? In your world, in my world. Maybe you should let a man fuck you really hard so you can lose that air of innocence around you. Sometimes you make me sick."

Amy was right. Maybe I was too naive about the world to know how things worked. Maybe a billionaire kissing me wasn’t the worst thing on earth. Maybe I had overreacted, but seriously, why would I not? It was offensive to take advantage of me. Nick Saunders had been wrong.

"Amy, I'm sorry. I didn't plan for the evening to turn out this way. It's just that you don't go to a ball uninvited every day, and you certainly don't plan to be kissed every day either." I hugged Amy, who was pouting. She ignored me for a moment but returned the tight embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Sara. I'm totally wrong. I should be mad at Nick for kissing you without your permission and rather I'm mad at you for running away from him. That's so insensitive."

I wanted to agree with her, but I knew when to leave things alone. Amy hardly ever apologized, and her apologies carried a lot of weight. I needed to back down.

"Amy, that's okay," I said. That seemed to cheer her up. She put her purse down and made me sit next to her. She turned on the desk lamp nearby and saw my face.

"Oh gosh, Sara, you’ve been crying! You look like a mess. I'm so sorry," she said as she grabbed a tissue to wipe away my tears, which had since dried.

"It's okay. I'm fine now. I was just so mad and confused, and you know how it is."

She nodded, and after a few minutes of comfortable silence between us, she looked at me with a mischievous smile. "So tell me, how was the kiss?"

"Really?” I asked, blushing. My flustered face didn’t get past her.

"You liked it! You virgin-whore," she said, punching me playfully.

"I didn't like it," I said, stifling a giggle.

"Oh now, Sara Madison Nolles. I know you did. That smirk on your face tells me all I need to know. You totally enjoyed being ravished by a billionaire!”

"I'd hardly call a quick kiss ravishing. But it wasn't so bad."

"Wasn’t so bad? Did you enjoy it or not?”

"I don't know. It wasn't totally bad. It was too short, I guess, but it was sort of unexpected, warm and nice."

"You whore!"

"Can you please stop calling me a whore?" I teased. "I might actually start believing you."

"Trust me. No one is going to mistake you for a whore. Even if you had a large neon sign on your forehead advertising your pussy for sale.”

"Amy, you're so vulgar."

"One of us has to be. So tell me, do you plan on repeating the kiss?"

I looked at her like she was kidding. Repeat the kiss? The man would probably kick me out of his house if I ever came near him. “Only if I wore a mask and he didn't recognize me. I treated him like he was evil or something.”

"Unless..." Amy had that grin I hated, the one she always wore when she was about to make me do something that was not too smart.

"You're evil," I said.

"What do you mean?" Amy smiled innocently.

"See that smile of yours? It was the same one that got me detention in Mr. William's English class."

"That wasn't totally my fault. You said you liked John Dixon, and I just gave him a note from you."

"No, a note from you saying he was all I could think about every day. And you gave it to him in the middle of class. Do you remember my horror when Mr. Williams read that note and said it was signed by me?" I laughed. It had been so long since I had thought of that story, I could laugh about it. I hadn’t ratted on Amy and had to live down the shame as if I were the one who wrote the love note.

"I know. And you know, I remember the note very well. Dear John Dixon. I like you a lot. I really really like you. I'd really like it if you kissed me after class. Love, Sara Nolles."

"Yes! It was not funny then," I said, trying to keep a straight face.

"Maybe not, but what has John Dixon got to do with Nick Saunders?"

“Nothing. Just that I know you can get pushy when it comes to my affairs with men, but try as much as you want, I will not date Nick Saunders.”

"Oh well, your loss. Did you return the necklace to him?”

"He wouldn’t take it back. The driver wouldn't take it back. I can't wear it. I mean, I cannot accept such an expensive gift. If he already thinks he can kiss me because I was in his house, can you imagine what he would do to me if I wore the necklace?”

"Well, you're not going to wear the necklace. But we are going to use it to get you what you want.”

"What I want?" I asked, dreading the answer. She knew what I wanted, rather who I wanted, but I didn’t want Amy’s help because she had a way of complicating things. They were already complicated enough. Maybe I should have stayed and listened to him; we might have shared another kiss or two. We might be dancing together right now. Maybe he would have introduced me to his other guests, and I'd have met someone who would offer me a job. Or maybe I could have talked about a job with him.

So many maybes if Nick hadn’t kissed me. If Olivia hadn’t stopped by and the kiss had been mutual, things would have been different.

“What you want is Nick,” Amy said.

“Why would you think I want Nick?” I sounded defensive, but I hated it when Amy read my mind.

“When Olivia Newton showed up, you freaked.”

“How do you know her last name?”

"There's only one Olivia I know who is rich enough to be there. Oliva Newton. The Italian supermodel."

"Oh...it was her. I knew she looked familiar."

"He dumped a supermodel for you? Wow! You must have impressed him."

"No, she must have kicked his tail so bad he was too ashamed to be seen as a loser, or maybe he just wanted to prove he can get any woman he wanted without her. I’m not sure what type of sick game he was playing, but he’s had his fun and I won’t be part of it.”

"So, you’re not going to kiss him again?”

“No, I won’t,” I said emphatically. “You need to drop this.”

“Sure, I will, but don’t you have to return his necklace to him?”

"Dreading it, but yes,” I said. Even to my own ears, my lie was evident. I did want to see Mr. Rich again and was glad I hadn’t returned the necklace. It gave me a good reason to see him again.

“So we’ll take it back.”

“We?” I asked.

“Yes, we. I don’t want him to kiss you again without your explicit permission.” She had a faint smile on her face that told me she was mocking me. “And if my plan works out, he will be begging to kiss you every minute.”

"What are you planning, Amy? Don’t get me in trouble again.”

"I won't get you in trouble, Sara. I promise. But let me do the planning, okay?”

I nodded. What choice did I have? Whatever Amy wanted, Amy got!

NICK

Nick sat in his office looking out the window. It had been two weeks since the ball, and he had resisted every urge to call Sara and apologize to her, which was the decent thing to do, but his pride was such that he could not do it. That was one of the things he hated about being rich. Pride! He took so much pride in all he did that apologies were out of character for him. Sometimes he hated himself for that weakness, but most times, it worked to his favor. It worked well when he wanted to get a woman in bed - women loved his shrewdness and arrogance. But that wasn’t going to work on Sara. So far, she had proven to be a tough catch, a different ball game. His pride helped him excel in business since he knew how to keep going even when others quit and gave up. His pride was what kept him hanging onto the last thread of hope for the preservation when the family thought all was lost. He knew a lot about pride, but so did Sara, apparently.

He was restless, his mind focused on Sara and that curvy body of hers, his work neglected. He sat there for hours, drinking coffee and nibbling on the orange banana scones his secretary had brought in, his body aching for Sara. He glanced at his phone and saw a missed call from the phone number that was dear to him, Sara’s. She had tried to contact him, but he hadn’t been sure how to respond to her call and had let it got to his voicemail. He knew she was calling to return the necklace, but he didn’t want her to do that just yet. If she kept it, she would have something that linked them.

A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts. "Yes," he answered absentmindedly. The door opened and his sister walked in. "Hi, Zia," he said, not too excited to see her when he saw the pile of papers in her hands.

Zia’s main interests were numbers and business. Nick appreciated her and all she did, but he was in no mood to talk business. He wanted to send her on her way with the least suspicious reason. If she found out what had happened at the ball, she would give him a lesson on how to treat women. Zia had already told him a million times he needed to treat women better, but she knew his inner pride sometimes made it hard for him to distinguish what was right and what was primal.

"I have the final numbers," Zia said as she pulled up a chair across the desk from him.

"Sure," Nick mumbled.

"So, after tallying all our donations and proceeds from the auction, we actually met and exceeded our budget." She was excited, and Nick didn’t want to kill her joy.

"Good job, sis. If anyone can do things, you can. Over-achiever!"

"Whatever, you know I'm good," Zia said. "And I thought we'd outgrown that teasing."

"You mean over-achiever?" he asked, smiling.

"Yes, that one," Zia pouted.

"Well, little sis, I get to decide when I stop messing with you.”

"Whatever, Nick. Anyways, I've been meaning to ask you a question about the night of the ball.” Nick's smile was replaced by a small frown that deepened by the second. "Not trying to meddle with your affairs, but Grandma told me about this girl you were talking to.”

"What girl?" Nick asked, pondering whether to tell her how much he really liked Sara. Zia was territorial, and he often wondered what she would do when he got married? Move in with him and his spouse? She’d made it her duty to protect him since they were kids and she had never let go of that responsibility.

"Some curvy chick she said she liked. And you know Grandma doesn’t like most of your girlfriends, so I assume this one is good.”

"Maybe."

"And Diane told me the girl left early."

Nick looked at her, the frown deepening even more, creases appearing on his forehead and lips. "Zia, you know better than to discuss my business with the staff."

"I wasn't discussing you. Diane felt I should know that one of our guests left unhappy."

"One of my guests, not yours."

"You know very well what I mean. One of your guests, fine. So you made some lady, your guest, cry and go home. What did you do to her, take her ‘candy?’” She put air quotes around candy.