Two Polluted Black-Heart Romances Read online

  “In the arts,” he finished, his normally steady voice wavering. “I—I wager your home had many items of exquisiteness within it.”

  “A few.”

  “Again, you have my deepest condolences for your loss. Such a freak thing. I am greatly relieved you weren’t home when it happened.”

  Sabrina took a deep breath. “Yeah. Me too.”

  “I…I should let you finish getting dressed.”

  “Okay.” She smiled over her shoulder.

  Peter’s confident voice returned as he reached the bathroom door. “All you need, you will find in your bedroom.”

  “Thank you, Peter.”

  “My pleasure, love.”

  The door clicked shut, and Sabrina slumped her shoulders. Was I wrong? She wondered until her eyes moved over the edge of the tub, where her cell phone sat in a small puddle of water.

  No, there’s my stupid phone. Still here. I was right. That was just an excuse to come in, to see me naked. Sabrina smiled slyly, but her smiled quickly faded. But if I was right, why didn’t he make his move? What does this man want?

  Sabrina sat down on a stool at the makeup vanity and gazed at herself in the mirror. “I’m so confused.”

  She could not help but reflect on how hard the month had been. But being there, in Peter’s house, it changed her attitude. She opened the vanity drawer and was pleasantly surprised to find it full of new and old make-up. MAC, NARS, Urban Decay, Kat Von D: a nice variety. Looks like my stash at home. She picked up a pale purple lipstick, one with an SPF of 15. Perfect for sunbathing. As she put it on, she heard a gust of wind against the glass. It was rolling to the side, seeking a way in. That’s Weston.

  “Sometimes you’re like a bird, you fly right into plate glass windows.” Sabrina teased.

  Weston formed up beside her. He didn’t waste time with formalities. “Are you thinking of fucking this guy?”

  “Wow, Weston,” Sabrina sneered. “Wow.”

  “You’re making a big mistake, Sabrina.”

  “A big mistake? How long have you been here spying on me?”

  “Spying?” Weston gusted. “I was checking the perimeter, all the rooms in this mansion, the grounds—this—this place is freaking huge.”

  “It’s incredible. I love it here.” She went back to applying the lipstick. “I may never leave.”

  “So what, your plan’s to fuck this guy until he asks you to stay?”

  “Maybe,” she replied. “He has done a lot for me already. He’s given me a spacious room in his home. He’s bought me clothes, and—”

  “And given you a recording deal, which you put in jeopardy by fooling around with him,” Weston said. “What if he doesn’t like—”

  “Oh please.” Sabrina put the lipstick down on the counter with some unexpected force. “If I do fuck him, he’ll love it. You know he will.”

  “What if your personal relationship changes? How will it alter the course of your professional one?” He began to shake as he spoke. “Huh? Have you thought of that?”

  Sabrina grumbled. “What if? What if? What if? Now I remember.”

  “What?”

  “I remember all your bitching and complaining.”

  “My bitching?”

  “Yeah,” she nodded and then rooted out an eyeliner that matched the lipstick. “And I remember why you were only my first lay, not my first love.”

  Weston went quiet. And when she looked to the side where he’d stood, he was gone—faded away. She put the eyeliner down and sighed. “Damn it.”

  Sabrina spent rest of the day laying out in the sun. The overlook was the perfect place to rest, close enough to the house to hear Peter’s outdoor sound system and not too far from his pool if she wanted to cool off, but still in the range to hear the waves break and smell the salty air.

  She had seesawed back and forth in her mind all day. When she would start to feel good, those good feelings would unleash a wave of regret. She felt awful that she’d snapped at Weston and wanted to apologize, but he had kept his distance, and something about it reminded her of an argument she’d had with Cade before she buried him long ago.

  She had condemned all vampires, and instead of disagreeing with her, he’d simply stated, “Fairies are the most selfish creatures alive. Their highest concern was once survival and now it’s been distorted into something sick. You think vampires are bad, well, we are. But you fairies are much worse than us.”

  Cade had apologized for saying it—almost immediately in fact. He had blamed his anger, and told her it was all exaggerations and that he hadn’t meant any of it. But now his words had started to ring true, and the worst part was, Sabrina wasn’t sure if she cared.

  Peter was grilling steaks in his backyard kitchen, and Sabrina couldn’t wait to eat dinner. Real food. A sit-down meal. It had been forever. She traded off looking at the ocean and Peter at work.

  He’s been home all day. He’s taken calls, I’m sure, but he literally took a day off of work for me. Just to make sure I had what I needed. Such power. Such responsibility. And he put it all aside for me. No one has ever done that before. Especially not my—

  “Almost done, love. Why don’t you come join me?” he shouted.

  “Be right there.”

  Sabrina looked around. She drew a deep breath and held it. She sensed nothing. No danger. No otherworldlies present, and no wraiths. I’m safe here. I’m really safe here.

  “Paradise,” she said aloud.

  She yawned as she stood up, stretching her arms to the sky and bouncing on her tiptoes. Peter’s personal shopper, Jules, had a fine taste in bikinis but the size was a little too small, so Sabrina adjusted the cups to better cover herself.

  She walked over to the pool and dove in, swam the full length underwater, and popped up at the other end. Eyes on the clear sky, she flung her hair back and pulled herself out.

  Eat your heart out, Denise Richards.

  “You do have a flare for the dramatic, Ms. Sabrina London.”

  “Oh?”

  “Like a scene right out of a movie, the beautiful woman strolls to the pool’s edge, dives in, swims across…” Peter said.

  Sabrina smiled. That was exactly what she’d wanted but played coy. “Oh?”

  “I say, it was quite a show.”

  “What kind of movie?” Sabrina asked as she sat down at the outdoor bar.

  “Excuse me?” Peter looked up from the grill.

  “A scene from what kind of movie?”

  “Oh. Right.” Peter smiled and then looked down at the food he prepared. “Keeping me on my toes, are you?”

  “Peter.”

  He looked back up. “Yes?”

  “Thank you again for taking the day off.”

  “No problem at all.” He smiled again. “You are one of my clients now, and you should know that I take good care of my clients. No matter their needs. And you can imagine, some of my clients have special needs.”

  “Special?”

  Peter motioned to his nose and made a loud sniffing sound. “You follow?”

  “I do. And I have.”

  “Come to think about it, I recall an article or two—couple years back—about your wilder days.”

  “Wilder.” Sabrina humphed. “You have no idea.”

  “Fetch me your plate from the table, and we can get this feast under way.” Peter looked at his watch. “Almost eight. Sorry it’s so late.”

  “I don’t mind. I could lay out in the sun here all day, every day.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to burn, love.”

  “We don’t…” Sabrina caught herself. “I don’t burn.”

  “No?”

  Sabrina retrieved her plate and handed it to Peter. “Never have. The sun recharges me. I guess it’s a benefit of good genes.”

  “I’d say.”

  Peter filled her plate with steak, sausage, green peppers and onions, baked potatoes, and corn. It all made her mouth water.

  “Everything looks and smells
delicious, Peter.”

  “I’m feeling rather chuffed with myself.” He nodded.

  Sabrina put her plate down, and retrieved and handed Peter his. “You know, I’m surprised Sean isn’t here.”

  “Oh really?” Peter chuckled as he stacked food on his dish. “Why is that?”

  “You two are such a tight team. I guess I just figured he’d be here helping you with things.”

  “He’s a good assistant and reminds me of things all the time,” he said as he approached the table. “Which reminds me. You probably could use a wrap or something.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, I don’t expect you dine wearing only a bikini.”

  “I’m fine,” she said again but it was too late. Peter had already called to the house.

  “Marco, can you fetch a wrap for Miss London? There should be one hanging by the back door. Jules left it there. Thank you.”

  “I told you I was fine.”

  “Well, do it for me then. You don’t want me to choke on my food now, do you?”

  “Are you flattering me, Mr. Rubie?”

  “Very much, Sabrina. In fact, I have been flattering you all day,” he said with a smile. “Ah, let me get the wine.”

  Peter dashed away from the table, behind the kitchen, where he had an outdoor wine cooler.

  “1998.” He announced.

  “The year before I was born.”

  “I…” Peter began, his eyes glued to the bottle. “Well…”

  She cocked her head to the side. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You can tell me, Peter.” Sabrina reached across the table to him, hoping he might give her his hand but he did not.

  “No, you’ve had a hard enough couple days. I don’t want to burden you any further.”

  “I’m fine,” she urged. “Much better now that I’m here…with you.” Sabrina raised her arms up and out. “All this, it’s had a very positive effect on me. Surrounded by tragedy and I find myself happier than ever.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  Marco, one of Peter’s staff, walked over with a sarong draped across his arms. He bowed as he handed it to Sabrina. He’s treating me like royalty and he doesn’t even know.

  “Thank you.”

  “I do hope you know how to tie one.”

  “A sarong?” She made a silly face as she asked. “Peter, of course I do. I know ten, maybe eleven different ways. Traditional, Indonesian knot, halter neck knot, gathered knot, western, skirt, and many more.”

  “I never should have doubted you.”

  Sabrina stood up and tied the sarong around her chest knotting it in a halter neck knot.

  “Better?” She bowed.

  “Outstanding.”

  She spun her bracelet around her wrist a few times before she sat down. “Thank you.”

  “That is a beautiful piece, your bangle,” he said, pouring two glasses of wine.

  “Few call it that.”

  “I’m sorry. Am I wrong?” he asked as he handed her a glass.

  “No.” She nodded in thanks for the wine. “You’re totally right. Most people call it a bracelet.”

  “Where did you get it? It looks like a traditional Bengali bangle.”

  “Those are normally gold,” Sabrina said with a big smile. “I’m impressed, sir. Very good guess.”

  Peter chuckled.

  “It is traditional and it has similarities to the Bengali style.”

  “A family heirloom, then?”

  Sabrina took a drink and then answered. “Yes.”

  “I have an old pocket watch. It belonged to my grandfather. He died during the Battle of Britain.”

  “That’s horrible. I’m sorry.”

  “He was a brave man. A distinguished hero,” Peter divulged. “He was shot down during the battle and died in the crash. But clutched in his hand was his pocket watch, not a scratch on it.”

  “Amazing.” Sabrina cut her steak and said, “You know, I was born in Greater London.”

  “Which parts?”

  “The Royal Borough of Kingston upon Thames,” Sabrina said in her best practiced regal voice.

  “Westminster.”

  She smiled and took another bite of her steak. “I might have guessed that.”

  “My accent?” Peter joked. “Yours is gone.”

  Sabrina finished chewing and then answered. “My family moved around Europe. I didn’t see much of it though. I was sheltered from a very young age.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  “Europe or England?”

  “England of course.”

  “Honestly?” Sabrina smiled a little. “No.”

  Peter laughed out loud before he tipped his wine glass to her. “God save the Queen.”

  “God save the Queen,” she repeated, but for her it had an entirely different meaning.

  There was a pause as they ate in earnest, Sabrina shoveling food into her mouth. Everything was so tasty, she could not fathom ever eating poorly cooked or bland food again. She wished she could savor it better, but she was just too hungry to slow down.

  “Oh my God, Peter…you obviously didn’t learn how to cook back home.”

  Peter chuckled. “No. No. One of my other clients taught me how to cook.”

  “Well, they did an excellent job, because you are a great chef.”

  “Bon appétit.”

  The sun slowly set as they finished dinner. Although she was on her forth glass of wine, Sabrina was still sober. However, to her surprise, she felt a new high: a high on life.

  She moved her chair around the table to be seated closer to Peter as the setting sun ignited the sky with pink and purple light. She leaned back in her chair, her muscles relaxed. Peter had turned off his sound system so they could listen to the waves. They were much louder than she’d imagined they would be, up here on his patio so far from the cliff.

  Although she was relaxed and seemingly content, Sabrina felt like something was missing. At first, she thought it might just be one of her old habits rearing its head—a cigarette or perhaps some of those “special needs” Peter’s other clients asked from him. Yet the longer she listened to the ocean, the more she realized it was Mira she was missing.

  “My friend Mira would love this place.”

  “You should invite her. Any friend of Sabrina London’s and all that.”

  “She’s gone.”

  “Gone?”

  “Not dead…at least I don’t think so.” Sabrina stood and stretched. “She’s just…gone.”

  “Weird how that happens.”

  She looked back at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Sometimes people just up and disappear.” Peter nodded. “Ever lose something big? Not like an old sock, but an actual shoe?”

  She looked down into her empty wineglass. After all I’ve drank, now, now I have such good clarity?

  “I think I know what you mean.”

  “Loss is the hardest thing to endure.” He motioned for her to join him on a walk to the spot she was sun bathing earlier. “If you never had something, you can never lose it. But if you’ve had something and loved or cherish it, only for it to be taken from you, that…” Peter paused.

  Sabrina could see he held back tears. He’s lost something too. “Peter?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No you’re not.”

  Peter looked at her with eyebrows arched. Sabrina took his hand and held it tightly in hers. “Loss can be more easily endured when it’s shared by two people.”

  “You are not what you always show people, are you?” he asked as he took his hand back. “There’s wisdom under all that—”

  “Blonde hair?” She tossed her hair and skipped a few steps forward.

  “I was going to say—”

  “Expensive makeup?” Sabrina gestured around her face.

  “Ha-ha.”

  She laughed. “A week ago, I might have said something else.”

  “Oh?”
<
br />   “Something vulgar,” she said playfully.

  “And what makes you choose your words more carefully now?”

  Sabrina thought a moment. “I’m almost afraid to say this.” She stepped up to the overlook and gazed down at the dark beach below. “Maybe, for the first time in a long while, I feel like I can truly be myself and let down my defenses. I finally feel like I can grow.”

  “This place, I’ve always said it brings out the best in people.”

  “Not only this place, Peter,” she said as she gazed into his eyes. “You.”

  “Now you flatter me.”

  Sabrina’s heart beat harder. Her hands shook, and she felt a little weak in her legs. Do it, Sabs. She told herself. Do it. Now’s the time.

  With a slight tug at the knot she tied, the sarong was off and on the ground. “Peter, I want to show you something.”

  “Sabrina, you don’t have to—”

  “No, I want to,” she said as she moved away from him and drew closer to the edge of the overlook.

  She turned and gazed down into the water. Her hand reached up behind her back to the sting bikini’s tie and pulled it. The tiny swimsuit top fell off in her hands and she dropped it to her feet as she covered her breasts with one arm.

  “You might want to take a few steps back,” she said with a look over her shoulder at Peter who gawked in surprise. “Please.”

  He complied, and once he was about ten feet away, Sabrina faced the ocean again. I’ve never done this before. She shivered from head to toe.

  “Sabrina? Darling?”

  “Peter, this is who I am.”

  Sabrina stretched her arms out and when she did, she released her wings. She was careful not to make them too bright, yet she unfurled them to their maximum length. She wanted Peter to be astounded but was surprised when she was awarded with his applause.

  “Bravo, Sabrina. Bravo,” he cheered.

  Sabrina giggled; she’d expected to stun or maybe even scare him.

  “Do you like?” She turned, careful to keep her breasts covered.

  “Amazing.”

  She fluttered her wings a tiny bit, not to fly, only to make them shimmer more.

  “The legends are true.” Peter looked like he might tear up again. “I always believed.”

  “I wanted to tell you when we were in your office on Friday, but there are rules…”

  “No, don’t worry. I understand.” He smiled as he took a step closer. “I’m honored that you chose to share this with me.”