The Man's Outrageous Demands Page 0,54
sided trust.
Three days later, Marabeth again picked up the phone. Sam was back and she was eager to see him, but not sure exactly how she was going to initiate the conversation she needed to have with him. She still hadn’t been to the palace designer to choose her wedding dress. Her mother had told her the choice needed to be made immediately but Marabeth was holding back until after she had the conversation with Sam. If he didn’t understand, then the whole wedding idea was off.
“Are you decent?” his deep voice asked through the phone.
Marabeth smiled, despite her intent to talk with him. “Yes. Sorry about that,” she said, tapping the pencil against the papers on her desk.
“Want to go for a ride?” he asked mysteriously.
Marbeth was instantly sidetracked. She remembered the last time he’d suggested an adventure and the way it had ended. “What did you have in mind?”
“Get on a pair of jeans again. No, we’re not going hang gliding again. Not this time,” he said before she could question him. “But I think you’ll like this just as much.”
Marabeth hung up the phone, completely forgetting her intent to have a talk with him yet again. She rushed from the office, scribbling an note on the absent Stacy’s desk before rushing down to her room to change. She pulled on a pair of jeans and tennis shoes, topping the outfit off with a simple, flannel shirt since there was a slight chill to the September air. Already, she could feel her stomach fluttering in anticipation of seeing Sam. She wished she could tell herself it was because of whatever adventure he was going to take her on, but she knew she’d be lying.
Marabeth’s stomach tightened when she entered the garage and saw Sam. He was wearing a pair of jeans again and she admired the incredible sight of him in the apparel. He could model for them, she thought to herself. If Calvin Klein could see Sam Montrose in a pair of jeans, the man’s butt would be plastered all over magazines and billboards worldwide. She suspected sales would jump dramatically. At least her pulse did, she thought.
“Ready?” he asked, pulling her into his arms for a hard kiss before releasing her. He guided her to the passenger seat of the same black SUV they’d traveled in for the hang gliding adventure. Her guards piled in behind them and Marabeth waived to them excitedly. She hadn’t seen them much lately since she wasn’t permitted yet to leave the palace.
The afternoon was bright and sunny with just a small chill to the air. Marabeth slipped on a pair of sunglasses as Sam drove out of the capitol city and into the mountains once again. He didn’t drive to the cliff as he had last time though. He drove to a quaint house looking out over a picturesque valley. In fact, he drove right into the garage, turning off the engine.
“Come on princess,” he said and got out of the car.
Marabeth climbed out and walked around the SUV, wondering what was going to happen next. She didn’t have to wait long. Inside the garage was another small, vintage car but there was also a motorcycle. Sam climbed on top, then tossed her a helmet. “You’re stalling, princess,” he said as he strapped on his own helmet.
“I don’t remember this being one of my prerequisites,” she said, smiling eagerly as she snapped the chin strap in place. She then swung her leg over the back of the motorcycle only moments before Sam turned the key, revving the motor. Marabeth had moments to grab onto Sam before he sped out of the garage, leaving her body guards lounging near the bottom of the hidden driveway. She waived to them as she passed, a silly, broad smile on her face.
Sam drove her around the mountain streets, going fast around the curves and initially, she was nervous, hanging onto his back and pressing herself against him. But once she understood that he really knew how to ride a motorcycle, she let herself be thrilled with the ride. Halfway through, he stopped and pulled over to the side.
“Come on,” he said and leaned back. “Ride in front of me,” he suggested.
Marabeth licked her lips, and her excitement increased tenfold. Up front? Where the wind would be whipping through her hair, directly into her face? She wouldn’t have Sam to protect her and hid her face in the sharp curves. The idea definitely appealed to