He paused at the top of the lengthy staircase, skimmed the corner of her mouth. “Merry Christmas, Bella.”
He slid a black-velvet jewelry box into her hand, the sort that contained bracelets. A photographer elbowed a supporting actor out of the way to thrust her telephoto lens closer. Little did any of them know what was really inside.
Sam ducked his head closer to hers again. “You may not want the press to see what’s actually in here.”
Her eyes went wide, her pupils dilating with excitement. Tucking the box close to her chest, Bella untied the bow, creaked open the box and found…
He’d given her a small designer dog collar. Pink. With an engraved tag that read Muffin.
Smiling, she tipped her face up to thank him and Sam sealed his mouth to hers. Nothing long or drawn out, but unmistakably romantic for the cameras.
Enough to make the press spread the news—and knock him on his ass.
Bella blinked up at him wide-eyed, a little confused. The single kiss had rocked him more than he’d expected. His hands-off policy the past few days had messed with his restraint. He’d scripted the kiss but sure as hell hadn’t planned on how much it would floor him.
Sam slid his hand to the small of her back, gently urging her back into the moment. “Let’s go see a movie.”
He’d come here for her. Now he had to figure out how to stay around after the premiere so he could see what surprises their next kiss might have in store.
Eight
Bella settled into her seat in the historic theater, balconies overhead packed in the sellout premiere. She should be taking note of everything around her, cementing this breakout moment in her memory. Yet she could only think of Sam beside her, his thoughtful gift in her beaded ivory handbag.
His kiss still lingered on her lips.
While Sam asserted that looks didn’t matter, his strong presence certainly appealed to her on an elemental level—tall and striking in his traditional tuxedo and clean-shaven face. Surprisingly, he’d been patient with the reporters even though she knew that sort of media fanfare must be driving him nuts. Yet, he’d put up with it smoothly for her.
The biggest surprise of all, though? Seeing Ridley. She’d been so nervous about crossing paths with him, of the stab of pain and betrayal she expected his presence to bring and…nothing. Ridley actually looked small and rather foolish in his bolo tie up next to Sam who didn’t need props to carry a room with his charisma.
She leaned toward Sam and whispered, “Thank you for my lovely gift.”
“You’re welcome.” His aftershave teased her senses. “Merry Christmas.”
“I have something for you, too.” The day they’d gone shopping in Paris she’d bought him a little brass antique bell to remember her by.
“Is it what I really want?” he asked, his intent clear from the wicked glint in his eyes.
Her breasts tightened with awareness, anticipation. Undiluted want. “I don’t believe what you’re referring to would fit under a tree.”
“I work out. I’m very limber.”
She laughed, drawing eyes toward them. She lowered her voice again so it wouldn’t be heard over the WWII tunes piped in from the sound system. “Why didn’t you wait for me after the Tonight Show interview?”
She’d been dying to ask him ever since they’d met at her place to rendezvous with the limo, but Dana and Max had been there, prohibiting her from delving into any conversation about David.
“I ran into a business acquaintance and we had to leave.” He tugged a lone lock of hair along the back of her neck. “You look incredible tonight.”
“Don’t try and sidetrack me.” She knew full well how easily he could distract her mindless through just a touch. “I know you ran into David. Why did you make him leave?”
He stroked the back of her neck, along her vertebra sending delicious shivers down her spine. “I hope you’re not going to bite my head off here like you did over the Charlotte incident. It won’t go well with the image we’re working to portray.”
Trust was tough, but she couldn’t miss how he’d had her feelings in mind, how he’d cared enough to try and shield her. “Actually, I want to say thank you. I really would rather not talk to him at all anytime soon.” If ever.
“You’re welcome.”
His somber gray gaze held her still. He simply stared at her as if no one else in this overflowing theater existed. Memories of his sensually intuitive touch in France flooded her senses, tempting her to throw caution out the window and dive headfirst into an affair with Sam. The heat of his gaze shut out the rest of the world, her attention dipping to his mouth as she wondered how his kiss would taste.
Why not indulge? At the moment, she couldn’t seem to come up with a single argument against giving in to the demands of her desire.
The lights dimmed, forcing her to divert her attention forward to the movie screen. She’d seen the rough cut of the film and of course knew every scene by heart. Still there was something magical about watching a movie—one including her—play out officially.
Sam’s hand slid over hers. For appearances or support? She linked her fingers with his, the rough texture of his callused grip sending a fresh wash of tingles over her.
Sam’s thumb stroking the sensitive inside of her wrist, Bella watched her grandparents’ love story unfold, starting with how her grandfather had worked in Marseille. A U.S. soldier, he’d been part of a spy cell for the Allied Forces. The screen scanned a panoramic view of the small sea port—the very one near Sam’s hotel. In fact she’d enjoyed that view during supper the night they’d made love.
The present and past merged in her mind as a young Charles Hudson met and was captivated by Lillian Colbert, a spirited young cabaret singer in a nightclub. Their romance traveled a rocky path as Charles suspected the sad-eyed beauty could be a collaborator with the occupying German army.
Bella gripped Sam’s hand, the turmoil of her grandmother’s life surging through her much as the musical score swelled throughout the theater. Bella had said those words that Lillian had lived, linking them even beyond the appearance and blood they shared.
She could feel the agony of her grandmother’s grief when Charles was injured and on the run. Lillian rescued him and hid him, first in her tiny apartment above the club, then forced to take refuge at a friend’s country estate. Bella’s heart pounded with exhaustion, fear, exhilaration as she relived the chase scene when Lillian and Charles made their getaway.
Her fingers went numb and she realized she’d been squeezing Sam’s hand so hard she’d cut off circulation. She pressed her palm to her fluttering stomach, even knowing what came next, cheering inside when Charles discovered that Lillian was actually working for the French Resistance. The risks and bravery of her grandparents blew Bella away all over again. Under constant threat of discovery, Charles and Lillian teamed up to further the Resistance’s cause, secretly marrying.
The scene blended to their wedding night—passionate, explosive and apparently a part of the movie Sam was not enjoying. His jaw visibly clenched as Ridley/Charles kissed down her neck, tugging the simple string at the top of her peasant blouse. The scene wasn’t overly graphic, shot mostly in close-ups of their faces or a far away silhouette with their bodies under the covers. The window behind them gusted loose curtains around them, the wind increasing with the rise of their passion, ending with close-ups of their hands clenched together over her head, tighter, then slowly unfurling.
Had Sam actually growled?
She couldn’t deny a hint of excitement even as she wanted to roll her eyes. She leaned toward him, her mouth to his ear. “I wore a body stocking under the covers for that scene.”
“I didn’t ask,” he said tight and low.
“I wanted you to know.”
He grunted.
“Ridley wore tighty whities.”
A smile ticked the corner of Sam’s mouth before she settled back into her seat and returned her attention to the movie alive with the liberation of France.
Charles had to leave his new bride behind and return to the fight in Germany, but during their tearful farewell he promised to return at the end of the war. Battle weary, he kept his promise and reclaimed his waiting wife. Bella watched the camera pull out on a panorama of her grandparents passionately kissing, profiled against the Marseille shore.
And to Bella, those two people on the screen were her grandparents.
The audience exploded with applause and cheers, a standing ovation rippling to life. As words scrolled across detailing Charles and Lillian’s life together in the United States, Bella’s mind swirled with memories of sitting on her grandfather’s knee while he humbly told the stories behind his many medals. She missed him, could almost smell his cigar smoke. They all could have used his calm logic right now to set their family back on track.
Although she knew she couldn’t possibly miss him nearly as much as her grandmother did. Their love had been special. Rare.
With the triumph of a beautiful romance surging inside her heart, would Bella now know when it came to her life? She couldn’t settle for an affair. She was an all-or-nothing person.
Sam downed his club soda during the after party bash hosted at the Hudson family estate on Loma Vista Drive in Beverly Hills. It was mind boggling how many people chose to spend their Christmas night at the Hudson home, but then Hollywood was all about being seen in the right places.