Chapter 8

Samantha

George let me into Dom’s apartment and I was struck by how big it seemed without him. He had a huge personality and it warmed the atmosphere around him. Now, alone, I felt lost in the space.

I wandered back to his bedroom, flipped on the light and looked at the bed. We’d made love there—not just that, but I’d learned what a real man was all about.

A real man wasn’t someone I could dominate. I didn’t want a boss; I wanted a man who was wiser and looked out for danger down the path that lay ahead. Dom was that.

A real man didn’t intrude on your life but let you flourish on your own, while quietly applauding in the background. Dom hadn’t interfered with my goal as an actress, but he’d watched from a distance and didn’t step in until I got into trouble.

A real man wanted your mind as much as your body. There was no doubt that Dom could have had almost any woman he wanted, and yet, he kept coming back into my life. I wasn’t extraordinary, but I was real. I knew I could stand up to him and he might not agree, but he did listen. When it came to our bodies—well, that went without saying. We fit together perfectly.

I flipped off the light and wandered back down the hall to the room where I’d kept my things. My wardrobe was still in the closet and dresser, just as I’d left it. I selected a lounging ensemble and headed for the shower. I spent time drying my hair, letting it cascade over my face as I ran my fingers through it. It curled easily when left to its natural texture. My face was void of make-up and I felt organic and clean. I needed to feel that way; the filth and deceit were beyond anything I’d ever experienced.

I laid down on the pillow and flipped on the flat screen. I found an old Bette Davis movie. Well, to be accurate, all her movies are old, so suffice it to say that the old was a comforting word I allowed myself to process.

I awakened to the feeling of someone sitting on the bed next to me. I snapped upright, disoriented. It was Dom.

“Hey!” I cried out.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I let myself in and it’s pretty late.”

“Yes, I know. I tried to wait up until you got back but I wasn’t sure when that might be. I hope it’s okay that I took a shower.”

“Of course. You feel like getting up and having a little talk?”

I sighed and snuggled down into the coverlet. “What if we have that talk in the morning and right now, you just help me turn down this bedspread and slide in beside me? Would you let us just quietly sleep?”

He smiled and nodded. “Be right back.”

Dom left, and I scooted the spread down and fluffed up the pillows. I slid back into the sheets and laid on my side, my bottom facing his side of the bed. He was back and climbed in next to me, smelling of soap and as his head moved onto my cheek to kiss me goodnight, I could feel he was clean shaven.

Dom’s hand slipped over my hip and his fingers climbed inside the waistband of my panties. His strong hand moved downward and cupped my pussy. He snugged up against me and with a sigh of contentment, his breathing evened as he fell asleep.

***

Dom’s arm was heavy over my hip, but his hand felt wonderful. I scooched into it and he began to stroke me. I couldn’t think of a better way to wake up. I turned toward him, my hand reaching for his groin. He was swollen and ready—barely awake.

I slid off my panties and then my leg over his hip and crawled atop him. My hair fell over my shoulder and tickled his face. I bent low and kissed him, pushing my hair out of the way as he turned and slid inside me. I rocked on him, slow and easy, each of us drawing out the eroticism of every stroke. I pulled my hair into one hand and tipped my head back. Dom’s hands cupped my breasts, his thumbs tugging gently at my nipples. We’d developed our own rhythm; we knew one another’s bodies better than we knew one another’s minds.

I felt my orgasm rising and moved faster, bucking up and down on him with plunging strokes. Dom seized my hips and lifted me, raising his hips to bring us to conclusion.

We’d gone past the point of coy flirting but had moved on to craving one another without the need for words. We just naturally moved together; no need for faking or apologies afterward. It was beautiful.

That took us to the other part of our relationship; the part that involved trust, mutual understanding and a balance of power between a man who could have anything he wanted and a woman who wanted little more than to express her creative soul for a bit of applause. Yet, we had reached an impasse.

We dressed for the day and met over breakfast. It had already been brought up and sat waiting beneath covered domes in the living room. Dom pulled out the table from before and we sat next to the windows, admiring the smoke plumes from buildings against the aqua blue New York skyline. It was an abnormally clear day; perhaps a testament to the fact that it was a Sunday morning.

I was buttering a warm croissant and anticipating the taste of the hot cocoa I’d chosen to go with it. Dom was drinking black coffee and already had his fork buried in a pile of fluffy scrambled eggs, topped with a dollop of sour cream.

“So?” I decided to begin the conversation.

“Ask what you will.”

“Slattery. What was he doing there?”

He shook his head. “You must have been tired last night if you haven’t figured that out. He was the money behind the performance, sweetheart. Slattery hired a half-ass director, scriptwriter and rented that stinking theatre just so he could lure you into a compromising situation. He was behind it all. Last night he sent you roses and after the performance, he was headed back to take credit and collect on his debt.”

“I didn’t know he was behind it. You have to know I wouldn’t have gone close to it if I had. It’s Barry’s fault and I’m going to kill him for it!” I was filled with indignation and anger at Barry.

“I’m guessing Barry is your agent?”

I nodded.

“Well, before you slit his throat, give him a chance to explain. Slattery is no amateur. His people know how to be subtle and I’m guessing your Barry was taken in, just as you were. They know which buttons to push and then do it so subtly that it’s difficult for you to find blame with anyone but yourself. That’s how they work.”

My eyes were wide with amazement. “Why, Dom? Why does it have to be so rotten inside?”

He shrugged. “I tried to tell you. You need someone to look out for you.”

“Huh!”

He lowered his head and looked up at me from beneath his brows. “You’re doing such a fine job of it yourself?”

I dropped the croissant onto the plate and wiped my mouth with the napkin. “I’m going back to the apartment and packing up my few things.”

“…and doing what?”

“Going home.”

Dom looked at the floor and shook his head. “You’re missing the big picture here. This isn’t about you. This is about the city, the game of life and being ruthless enough to wipe out the competition.” He reached across the table and put his hand over mine. “Samantha, stay here with me. Let me look out for you.”

I cocked my head. “Here?”

“Where else?”

“You mean like a tenant? Your mistress? What?”

“How about as my fiancé?”

“Dom?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s fast, but I know all I need to know about you, Samantha. You’re like this little pool of warm sunshine in the middle of a barren, Arctic city. I was miserable the last few weeks. Not to mention, I can’t let you out of my sight or you get yourself into trouble.”

“Me?”

“Okay, okay, fair enough. It wasn’t your fault. But back to the question at hand. Will you accept my proposal? Stay with me here and we’ll make it a long engagement. Take all the time you need to set the date. Call this a learning engagement. Let’s learn to live together. What do you say?”

I’d been holding my breath as he spoke and now tears found their way out of my eyes and down my cheeks. I stood up and leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his neck and nodding against his cheek. “Yes,” I whispered.

Dom kissed me, not letting me go. We stayed that way for long minutes, just clinging to one another and rocking gently side to side.

“Is there a father out there somewhere I need to ask?” he finally said.

I shook my head. “No, not anymore. He’s gone and Mom, well, she’s been sick and is living with my sister and her husband.”

“There’s a sister?”

“Yes, Jan is her name. She’s two years older than I am and they have two kids. I’m the rebel if you ask her. They weren’t happy with me coming to New York City, but I had to give it a try, you know?”

“I get that, and I know the feeling. We’ve got a lot of time ahead of us to get to know one another better, but right now, I’d like to take you out and buy you an engagement ring. Will you let me do that?”

“It’s Sunday, Dom.”

“Oh, that’s just for other people. I happen to have a friend in the jewelry business and believe me, he’ll open early for us. In fact, we’ll have the store to ourselves. Want to?”

I nodded and kissed him again before running back to the bedroom to get my things. Dom was waiting at the door for me and this time we took a cab.

It just so happened that Dom’s friend was only too glad to open Tiffany’s early on a Sunday for us. Dom gave his friend a look and soon I was being presented with cases of huge diamonds in every color imaginable. I shook my head.

“What’s wrong? Nothing here you like?”

“They’re stunning, Dom, just beautiful and you’re being so generous. But I’m just not the flashy ring kind of girl. Is there something smaller, more traditional?”

The man nodded and although he knew there was a huge profit about to fly out the door, he went into the back and returned with a single ring in its own case. He passed it across the counter and I opened it.

It was perfect. The ring was in yellow gold, which, to me, was far more traditional than the platinum settings we’d seen. In the center was a round, but perfectly clear emerald and it was nested in the center of a circlet of tiny white diamonds. Dom took it out and slid it onto my ring finger. Naturally, it fit perfectly as if it were meant to be mine. I nodded and kissed him. “Thank you,” I said softly. “I love you.”

We looked at one another in shock. It was at that moment that we realized neither of us had used the words. Dom nodded, “Me, too,” he whispered and kissed me.

We left the store and walked down the sidewalk, peering into store windows as we went. Dom would ask my preferences on window offerings and I think I surprised him because I was conservative and easily pleased.

“You can have anything you want, you know,” he told me. “Money’s no object.”

“Thank you, but money doesn’t mean much to me. As long as the lights stay on and there’s food in the kitchen, I have enough. What I want is a husband to love and be loved by; to be the father of our children and my faithful protector.”

“You’ll have all that and more, sweetheart,” he promised. “And I don’t know why I didn’t say it before, but I certainly knew it—I love you, Samantha.”

“I love you, too. That’s all I need.”