Chapter 37

19 2 31
                                    

Santa Monica, California

May 2006


 A digital clock on the bedstand read 9:27 am in glowing red numbers. Slats of sunshine fell into the room and over the bed, striping their bodies in light. Anna opened her eyes and looked at the clock. She jolted awake and blinked to clear her mental fog.

The only sound was the soft rhythmic clicking of the ceiling fan that whirred overhead. No voices, no footsteps, no music, no TV. She breathed in the silence and let her shoulders relax against the pillows.

Then she remembered. They had the day off to recover from the prior night's celebrations. Relief flooded through her. At least George wouldn't be storming around demanding her time and an explanation for her tardiness.

Next to her, Sabian lay naked and stretched out over the bed. His hair cascaded over the pillow like the wind had blown it there. His back rose and fell with breath. Keeping her eyes on him, she slid from the bed as stealthily as she could.

Her purple dress lay in the same heap on the floor along with her bra and panties. She put on the underwear and slid the dress up her body. The zipper was stuck and she couldn't pull it up, so she held the gown to her chest with one hand while she tiptoed toward the door. Another rush of relief rolled through her as she looked back and saw Sabian still asleep. Damn. She let her eyes linger on him. What does he have to be so damn beautiful?

She closed the door behind her, each movement as minute and soundless as possible. The cameras. From glimpses she snuck during brief moments in the security center, she knew there were three: one at each end of the hallway and one outside the gallery. Their beady electronic eyes would find her.

Shit. At least it was Vida and Burt watching now, and not Toby. They probably weren't even prioritizing the cameras in the house, anyway. The odds one of them was monitoring these exact cameras at that exact moment had to be slim.

She tugged the dress up and dashed across the hall to Casey's room. Once behind its door, she released her breath. Her heart pounded. She lay the dress on the bed and sought the relaxing refuge of a hot shower.

Under the stream of water, her mind conjured images of Sabian's eyes, his smile, his hands on her body, her hands on his. Her stomach twisted. Shit. What now? How would it change things between them? 

Maybe not the smartest thing I've ever done. Despite her dread, she smiled a little replaying certain moments: how he'd shed his facade of emotionless control, how he'd moved to please her so generously—those brown eyes looking up at her in search of approval—how he'd surrendered to her and let her do and explore as she wanted. And, the things she'd done—the things they'd done—multiple times.

She shook her head and laughed a little. But still, the unknown fallout, emotional and otherwise, unnerved her. She hoped she didn't live to regret it.

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