The Sassy One

Gabriel’s scowl faded as the corner of his mouth twitched. “I’m too old for chicks.” His gaze narrowed. “But you’re not. You work too hard.”



“I learned that from you.”



Gabriel gave a snort. “Good answer, but there’s a difference. I had you to go home to. What do you have? Some mouthy housekeeper who doesn’t know her place? Soon you won’t even have her. You’re thirty-four.”



“I know.”



The old man scowled. “You need a woman. When are you going to get married again?”



“When you do,” he told his grandfather.



The old man chuckled. “There’s still some life left in me, Samuel. I just might find someone who strikes my fancy. Then what will you say?”



“Enjoy.”



Gabriel laughed, then pushed himself to his feet. “I’m going to head home. Don’t you work too late.”



Sam thought of Francesca’s promise to be at his place no later than five. Anticipation made him grin. “I won’t.”



This time when Francesca arrived at Sam’s place, the gate was wide open. One part nervous, three parts wild with excitement, she drove onto the property and parked in front of the impressive house.



When she’d turned off the engine, she reached for her oversize tote bag. Sam had asked her to spend the night, which meant dealing with logistics like a toothbrush and fresh undies for the morning. While she didn’t want to show up with a suitcase and scare the man—she’d already done that once in the past twenty-four hours—she didn’t want to be without her stuff.



“You should never have let your subscription to Cosmo lapse,” she told herself as she stepped out of her truck. “They always cover this sort of dilemma.”



She headed for the front door, which opened just before she knocked. Sam grinned.



“Hey, gorgeous.”



“Hey, yourself.”



They stared at each other. His hair was mused, his expression amused. His mouth curved in what Texans would have described as a shit-eating grin. He was a man who knew he was about to get lucky.



She took in the Hawaiian-print shirt, worn jeans, and bare feet, and thought he looked good enough to be a poster boy for sin. She wasn’t sure what he saw when he looked at her, but he liked it enough to pull her close and kiss her senseless.



“This time I really plan to feed you dinner,” he said when he released her. He kissed her again. “But it might be late.”



“Late works for me.”



He drew her into the house and shut the door behind her. “How about some wine?”



“Sure. Get me drunk. So typical.”



He chuckled, put his arm around her, and guided her to the kitchen.



“How was your day?” he asked as he opened a bottle of Marcelli Wines Merlot.



“Good. I drove up to see my family. We have a brunch every Sunday morning. It’s something of a command performance unless you’re out of town. They make me crazy, but I love them. What about you?”



He poured the wine. “I went to work. I don’t usually on Sunday, but I felt restless.” He raised his eyebrows. “Your fault, I believe.”



“Me? What did I do?”



“For one thing there’s that sound you make when you—”



“Okay, then,” she said, cutting him off. She’d been doing her best not to think about the wild abandon she’d displayed in Sam’s bed… and shower. She’d always thought of herself as sexually conservative and not very passionate. Apparently she’d been wrong.



She clutched her wineglass in both hands and mentioned something that had been bothering her. “I hope we didn’t disturb Elena. That would be really embarrassing for me.”



“Not to worry. Her room is downstairs at the opposite end of the house. There’s no way she could have heard. But if it makes you feel any better, she’s not going to be around for a while.”



“What happened?”



“Her sister fell and broke her hip. Elena flew out this morning to stay with her for about a month.” He shifted toward her. “So it’s just us. No adult supervision to be had.”



The closer Sam got, the more her heart raced, her breathing quickened, and before he even reached for her, she felt her muscles tensing in anticipation.



She put her wine on the counter and reached for him. “So we can be as bad as we want?”



“You got it. In fact, I’ve been having a very vivid fantasy that involves you, some champagne, and the kitchen counter.”



She shivered with delight. “Count me—”



His mouth claimed hers. Francesca surrendered to his passionate kiss. Her mouth parted and she stroked his tongue with hers. Instantly her breasts swelled, her panties got damp, and her bones turned to al dente pasta.



The hunger returned. Despite the pleasure she’d experienced the night before and this morning, she wanted him again. Touching her. In her. It was as if she’d never experienced lovemaking before being with Sam. It was—



The ringing of the telephone cut through the quiet of the kitchen. Sam barely raised his head.



“The machine will get it,” he murmured as he trailed kisses along her jaw, then down her neck to her collarbone.



“What if it’s one of your women?”



He chuckled. “I don’t have any women right now. No, I take that back. I have you.”



He returned his attention to her mouth. The phone continued to ring three more times. On the fourth she heard Sam’s voice telling the caller to leave a name and number. There was a click, followed by a voice.



“Dammit, Sam, if you’re out of town…” The woman speaking sighed heavily. “It’s Tanya. Again. I’ve already called five times without leaving a message. Now I guess I don’t have a choice. You need to call me right away. It’s an emergency.”



She kept on talking as she gave her number, but Francesca stopped listening. Sam had stiffened and pulled back.



“That’s my ex-wife,” he said. “Why the hell would she be calling?” He glanced at Francesca. “I haven’t heard from her in years. Ten, maybe twelve.”



She gave him a little push toward the phone. “She said it’s an emergency. You should pick up.”



Sam hesitated, not wanting to spoil the moment, then realized it was too late for that. He grabbed the phone. “Tanya, it’s Sam. I’m here.”



“About time,” she said, sounding both frustrated and impatient. “It took me the better part of the morning to find your damn number and then you weren’t there.”



“It’s nice to speak to you, too,” he said sarcastically. “It’s been a long time. How are you doing?”



She exhaled loudly. “Okay—good point. I’m being a bitch and you have no idea why.”



Her nature, he thought grimly.



“The thing is…” she continued. “Oh, crap. I don’t know how to tell you this. It’s been too long. It’s all your mother’s fault. If she—”



“My mother?” Sam interrupted. His mother had died nearly eight years ago. “What does she have to do with anything?”



“Just her usual meddling. I had these plans, Sam. I worked damn hard, and no one is going to take it away from me now.”



“Tanya, I have no idea what you’re talking—”



The doorbell rang. Sam turned toward the front of the house and frowned. He’d closed the gate after Francesca had arrived. How had anyone gotten inside?



“What was that?” Tanya asked. “Oh God, was it the doorbell?”



“Yes. I’ll be right back.”



“Sam, wait.” Tanya’s voice dropped. “I’m going to hang up. In a few minutes you’re going to want to call me back. I just left my number on your machine. I’ll be here.”



With that, the line went dead. Sam stared at the receiver for a second, then set it back on the base. The doorbell rang again.



He turned to Francesca. “I don’t have any idea what’s going on. Tanya didn’t make sense, and I need to get the door.”



She smiled. “I’m fine. Don’t sweat it, Sam.”



She looked calm, content, and too sexy for words. He grabbed her, quickly kissed her, then smiled.



“This won’t take long,” he promised. “Then I’m taking you upstairs and having my way with you.”



“Promise?”



“You bet.”



He released her and hurried to the front door. He pulled it open, not sure who would be standing there. He didn’t expect to see a girl with red curly hair, freckles, and big green eyes.



Sam glanced from her to the gate, which was still closed. “How’d you get in here?” he asked.



“I climbed.” She shifted her large backpack. “Are you Sam Reese?”



“Yes. Who are you?”



The girl—he didn’t know anything about kids, but he would guess she was in her early teens—squared her shoulders. “I’m Kelly Nash. Your daughter.”



6



S am stared at the girl. She stared back. Neither of them blinked.



He hadn’t heard her correctly, he told himself. Or daughter had become one of those words that had multiple meanings. Like bad meaning “good.”



“What?” he demanded.



Kelly pushed past him and entered the house. “Your daughter. You know. Your kid, your offspring.” She dropped her backpack on the floor and glanced around. “Nice place. Didn’t Tanya call you? It’s not like she didn’t know where I was going.”



He closed the door. What the hell was going on?



“Tanya?”



Kelly turned back to him and rolled her eyes. “Tanya Nash. Your ex-wife. My mother. I bugged out this morning. I figured she’d get in touch with you and let you know what was going on.”



“I’ve been out,” he said, speaking slowly because he didn’t know what to say. “She called right before you knocked on the door.”



“Oh. Let me guess. She hung up and said you should call her back. She’s not real big on taking responsibility, you know. I’m starved. Is there anything to eat?”



“Sam?”



He saw Francesca enter the hallway. She smiled. “Are you all right?”



Kelly glanced at her, then back at him. “The new wife?”



He shook his head. This wasn’t happening. Not really. His daughter? With Tanya? He hadn’t seen his ex-wife in years. They’d been divorced. She’d never said anything about being pregnant, and she sure as hell wasn’t the type to raise a kid on her own.



“How old are you?” he asked Kelly.



“Twelve.” She sighed heavily. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Right when you divorced. Can I help it if you couldn’t keep your pants on? Do you think this is what I wanted? But I didn’t have a choice. Tanya’s leaving the country, okay? And she’s not taking me with her.”



Francesca’s eyes widened. “You’re—”



“Sam’s baby girl,” Kelly said brightly. “I know. It’s a special family moment. Look. I haven’t had anything to eat since the plane. The tip for the limo ride up from the L.A. airport took all my cash, so I couldn’t stop or anything. You got food in this place?”



Francesca looked as stunned as he felt. Kelly stared at them both, then shook her head. “Okay. While you two sort this out, I’m gonna go get something to eat. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves while I’m gone.”



With that she sauntered down the hall and turned into the kitchen.



Sam watched her go. No way this was happening. It couldn’t be. A child? A daughter?



Francesca walked toward him. “You look shocked.”