Derailed II (3 page)

As I dried myself with a rich, fluffy towel, my cell phone rang. Letting the towel crumple to the tile floor, I ran out of the bathroom stark naked, thinking maybe something bad had happened to my mother. When it came to my mother, my mind always jumped to the worst-case scenario.

Hands shaking, I picked up the phone, which I’d left on the nightstand in the bedroom. The caller ID said “unidentified caller” which freaked me out more. Maybe it was a doctor from the hospital calling.

“Hello,” I said, my voice quivering.

“Sarah.”

I recognized the shrill voice immediately. A sigh of relief was followed by a huff of disgust. It was my demanding boss--Catherine St. Clair. Why the hell was she calling me on a Saturday night, let alone a three-day weekend? She continued.

“I was just checking in to make sure you booked my trip to Nuremberg for the International Toy Fair.”

“All done,” I lied through clenched teeth. The damn Toy Fair was not until almost a year from now.

“And I can assume you got me first-class tickets and a suite at the Four Seasons?”

“Yes.”
Sheesh!

Without thanking me, she said, “I expect to see you bright and early Tuesday morning.” CLICK.

God, I hated working for this bitch. But, at least, it was a job taking me one step closer to my dream of creating toys that would give joy to boys and girls.

I placed my cell phone back on the nightstand and let go of the reality of reporting to my evil boss on Tuesday. As I got dressed, my head spun with the fantasy of going to a party in the Hamptons with my Trainman and the night ahead.

It was only a five-minute drive to the gated oceanfront house where the party was taking place. Unlike Ari’s New England like cottage, this one was a spectacular
Downton Abbey-
like brick manor house surrounded by formal gardens, greenhouses, and stables. After valeting the Bentley, we were led to the vast backyard. About two hundred people sipping cocktails milled about. They were all perfectly tanned and well dressed, the women mostly wearing low-cut sundresses and high strappy sandals. Everyone oozed sex and money, and I felt out of place in my jeans and tee.

As we ambled through the crowd, Ari turned heads. He was wearing white linen drawstring pants and a v-neck tee that showed off his bronzed skin and biceps. I swear every woman was looking at him although Ari seemed oblivious to their stares. Holding his hand did not alleviate my state of anxiousness. Who knew better than me the effect this gorgeous god could have.

“There’s my client,” said Ari, glancing to the right. “I need to spend some time with him.” Breaking loose of my hand, he strode in the direction of a debonair, silver-haired man clad in khakis and a navy blue blazer.

Please don’t leave me.
I felt intimidated, surrounded by all these beautiful people I didn’t know and who were definitely way out of my league.

Ari needs a woman who is mature and independent.
Ari’s sister’s words whirled around in my head.
Okay, Sarah, plain and tall, be a big girl and mingle.

I snagged an hors d’oeuvre from one of the white-gloved waiters who were passing them around and strolled over to the bar. Maybe a glass of wine would loosen me up.

“I’ll have a glass of Chardonnay over ice, please, ” I told the bartender.

“Sarah!”

My eyes popped. The voice behind me was familiar. So familiar. Holding my wine, I wheeled around. Standing in my face was Lauren, dressed to the nines in a tight strapless “bandage” dress that hugged her curves and matched her six-inch-high strappy stilettos.

We hugged and said it at the same it: “What are
you
doing here?”

I let Lauren answer first. “This is Taylor’s parents’ house. Remember, I told you they were throwing an impromptu cocktail party to celebrate our engagement.”

Some “impromptu party.” With the white-gloved staff and elegant décor, it looked like it had taken months to plan. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the scope of Lauren’s wedding as she asked for a glass of champagne.

Taking a sip of the bubbly, she looked at me sheepishly. “And I bet you’re with—”

“Ari,” I said shyly. And then I remembered that Taylor’s father owned the largest chain of drug stores in the country. Of course, he must be one of Ari’s biggest clients.

“You’re next,” beamed Lauren, flaunting her boulder-sized engagement ring.

The diamond sparkled like a star in the sky. I rolled my eyes and took another sip of my wine.

“Listen, I’ve got to go and spend some time with Taylor’s parents’ friends. I’ll catch up with you later. I want to hear
everything.”

She sauntered off, walking with ease in her mega-high heels as if she were born wearing them. In the corner of my eye, I glimpsed Ari. He was now talking with a gorgeous statuesque blonde who looked like she could be a movie star. One of his women? A pang of jealousy ripped through me. I thought about going up to them—“Oh, hi, I’m Sarah and I came with Ari”—and then refrained. I was nonetheless miffed that my Trainman had left me alone, stranded for such a long time, and was ignoring me. Maybe he was testing me. To see how independent was. To see if I could survive his crowd of movers and shakers.

Draining my wine, I suppressed my uneasy jealousy and decided to explore the property. It really was amazing. Besides the formal gardens, there was a tennis court, several cottages that must be guesthouses, a pond with swans, and a shimmering pool with a Jacuzzi and lit up pavilion.

I leaned against the pavilion and gazed up at the starry sky. It all felt so unreal. Here I was at a Hamptons party with a gorgeous billionaire that I had met only a couple of days ago. Yet as exciting as my life had been since I met him, loneliness and apprehension assaulted me. Even the jealousy came out of hiding. He had fucked a lot of women. I was just one of them. This man did not want commitment. And I, Sarah Greene, did not want to get hurt.

Another familiar voice startled me, cutting my thoughts short. “Hey, babe.” I turned my head. It was Lauren’s boyfriend Taylor, swaying toward me, a drink in his hand. His eyes were glazed, his lids hooded. He was drunk. Very drunk. I had seen him this way before way too many times.

“Watch’ya doing here?” he asked, slurring each word.

“I’ve got to go,” I said nervously.

“What’s the rush?” Before I could take a step, he pinned me hard against the pavilion. His cocktail tumbler crashed to the ground.

He leaned in close to me, his hips pressing tight against mine. His warm breath reeked of alcohol. Whiskey? Gin? Vermouth? I was no expert.

“You look so hot tonight,” he breathed into my face.

“Let me go, Taylor,” I begged. I struggled to wiggle myself free of him, but even in his drunken state, ex-football star, Taylor Hodge IV, was too strong for me.

His lips parted, and I was prepared for the worst as they moved in close to mine. Fuck! He was kissing me. His tongue darted out and forced itself into my mouth. It rolled around my palate, its foul taste making me feel even more nauseated than I already felt. His hands groped my breasts as his hips gyrated into mine. A hard bulge, growing between his thighs, dug into me through his chinos. I continued to squirm, but the more I struggled, the more forceful he became. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run.
Oh God, get him off me.

“What the fuck?” I knew that voice too. Ari.
Oh God, what was he going to think?

In one swift move, Ari yanked Taylor off me.

“Hey dude, chill,” slurred Taylor.

Fury was blazing in Ari’s eyes. Balling his fist, he socked Taylor in the face, sending him to his knees.

“Hey, man, what was that for?” winced Taylor, blood pouring out of his nose.

“For the same reason I’m doing this, mother fucker.” I cringed as Ari kicked him hard in the gut. Taylor clutched his stomach and moaned as Ari grabbed me by the elbow and jerked me away.

“I’m away from you for fifteen minutes, and you wander off with some asshole.” Rage mounted with every word.

“I can explain.” My voice shook.

“Remember, speak only when spoken to.” One of my favorite sayings. Had he read it in my journal while on the train?

I hung my head low as we headed back to the party. Inside, I was fuming.

“We’re out of here,” he growled, gripping my hand so hard it hurt. He was moving so fast I had difficulty keeping up with him in my platform sandals.

On the way out, I passed by Lauren. Engaged in conversation, she shot me a wink

I twitched back a fake, fleeting smile. My heart sunk to my stomach. Did she know what a jerk her fiancé was? I wasn’t sure if I was going to tell her what happened. Especially when she was riding so high. When my emotions settled, I’d think about it more.

Ari and I shared a stretch of tense silence on the way back to his house. His mouth was pressed into a hard grim line, and he did not look at me once. Finally, I had enough.

“You’ve got it all wrong,” I barked.

Silence.

“That ‘asshole’—Taylor Hodges IV—FYI, the son of your beloved client—is my best friend Lauren’s fiancé, and
he
hit on me.”

Silence. His eyes narrowed. My nerves were little electrical pulses ready to explode. I was getting nowhere with him. This guy’s level of trust, on a scale of one to ten, was a minus twenty. A good part of me wanted to jump out of the car and hitch a ride back into the city.

With a sharp turn, the Bentley flew though the electronic gate to his estate. When the car came to a screeching halt in front of the house, I jumped out, not waiting for any I’m-a-gentleman door opening.

“I’m going to sleep,” I huffed. “And in the morning, I’ll be taking the first train back to the city.” I stomped off in my platforms. He could keep them and everything else he bought me.

“Saarah, wait.” He hopped the Bentley and sprinted up to me. Pressing his strong hands on my shoulders, he held me back and then pivoted me around. The expression on his face had changed. His eyes now looked forlorn, and his mouth was parted.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. Before I could say a word, he pulled me tight up against him and crushed his velvety lips into mine. It was an all-encompassing kiss, full of tongue, passion, and remorse. I was melting like a candle, dripping with desire. I could not stay mad at this man. This god.

Slowly, he pulled away. My lips ached for more. My body ached for more. I wrapped my arms around his hard body, the way his were wrapped around me, and leaned my head against his chest. I closed my eyes. The waves in the distance lolled as he let me enjoy his warmth.

He clasped my hand from behind. “Come, let’s take a walk on the beach.”

Hand in hand, we headed down to the beach in silence. Upon hitting the sand, we both kicked off our shoes. The sand was now cool and soothing beneath my soles. Ari wrapped an arm around me, and I rested my head against his shoulder as we strolled.

The night could not be more perfect. The temperature was still mild, and a myriad of stars danced around the full moon. The blackened ocean was at low tide, the white-crested waves gently ebbing in and out.

“I’m sorry I punched your friend’s fiancé,” said Ari, breaking the silence.

“He deserved it. Thanks for coming to my rescue.” Once again, he had been my heroic Power Ranger although not well intentioned.

“He’ll probably tell his father, and I’ll lose my biggest account.” He shrugged, kicking up some sand.

“Nah. Macho Taylor would never tell a soul, including his father, that he got beat up.”

“Are you going to tell your friend?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s so in love with him. Maybe it was just an act of drunken folly.” Although I knew damn well, this was not the first time Taylor had cheated on Lauren.

“Do you believe in love, Saarah?”

His question struck a deep chord inside me. “Yes.” The way Tony unconditionally loved Maria in
West Side Story.
“What about you?”

“I used to. I’m not sure any more.”

Ah, the emotional scar left behind by his ex-wife. I yearned to tell him that scars can fade, but instead I said, “You get jealous, though.”

“Yeah, I confess. I get jealous. I wanted to kill that asshole.”

“You can be a very bad boy, Mr. Golden,” I laughed.

“Ms. Greene, I want you all for myself.”

“Then come and get me.” I didn’t know what made me do it, but I broke away from him and sprinted across the sand. Turning and running backward for a few yards, I shouted out at my shocked companion, “You said you could keep up with me. Prove it.” Without waiting for a response, I took off like the wind.

“You’re going to pay for this, my pretty princess,” I heard him shout back.

I cranked my neck and stole a look at him. He was running after me at hell-bent speed. I propelled my legs to run faster. My lungs were burning and so were my thighs. I looked behind me one more time. Shit! He was gaining ground on me; I needed to run faster but I just couldn’t. I was losing speed and panting. I could feel him behind me, his breath on me. And then a powerful arm cinched my waist, stopping me dead in my tracks. He flipped me around.

“Saarah, it’s payback time.” His breathing was ragged.

Holding me prisoner with one arm, he nimbly unbuttoned my jeans and yanked them down without even bothering to unzip them. With both hands, he pulled my tee over my head, tossing it onto the sand. His eyes slowly made their way from my head to my toes, lingering on the obvious places. “You’re so, so beautiful.” The words rolled off his tongue like a melody. And then as he squeezed me toward him, a sharp slap sounded in my ear and a sharp sting zapped my ass. Simultaneously.

“You’re getting something my son
never
gets,” he growled in my ear. “A spanking.”

Holy crap! I’d never been spanked before in my life. My mother didn’t believe in that form of corporal punishment. And while I had always shuddered when I heard about other children being spanked, I was strangely looking forward to it.

His hand struck me again. I winced. And then again and again. Each slap louder and harder than the one before. With each blow, I let out a shriek, and tears stung my eyes. Yet, somehow, this beating was turning me on. My juices were flowing between my legs, and I was tingling all over.