O'Brien's Lady - By Marsha Doss Page 0,30

herself for forgetting. She could only hope that Pierre would not notice.

He was waiting patiently when she came downstairs. When she stepped outside she was shocked to see the white limousine parked in the driveway, its driver waiting patiently for her.

"Pierre, we could have taken my car," Sonny protested.

"No, we cannot. I want to have time to talk with you. We have so many plans to discuss."

As the driver in the dark suit opened the door for them, Sonny slid into the luxuriously upholstered seat. This was certainly extravagant, even for a man of PierreJs tastes.

As they drove from the house, Sonny saw Katy peeping around the window and pulling her head back quickly when she thought she had been seen. For certain, Michael would already be getting an earful of this, she thought happily.

It served him right.

The cool air of the limousine surrounded Sonny and she began asking Pierre all sorts of questions about his fashion showing.

"They loved my designs," he said enthusiastically. "The American audiences are very open-minded and receptive."

"Of course," Sonny agreed. "We love anything French."

Pierre ran his slender fingers through his dark hair and then he smiled at Sonny. "I have brought you a little something," he said.

"What is it?" Sonny's blue eyes were bright with anticipation.

"Oh, it is for another time. Not today."

Pierre looked very satisfied with himself as he placed his warm hand over Sonny's. She remembered the touch of Michael and how alive it had made her feel. Now, seated next to Pierre, she was comfortable, complacent and inanimate.

When they finally reached Union Square, Pierre and Sonny began their shopping at Neiman-Marcus. From there they toured every one of the finer stores they could find. By the time five o'clock came, Sonny had been presented with perfume, lingerie and a jacket that Pierre just had to have for her.

As they settled back into the cushions of the limousine, Sonny turned to Pierre.

"You shouldn't be buying me these presents."

"You never minded before, Sondra," he answered with a puzzled look on his face.

He was right.

She had never objected before today because she had accepted the gifts in the light hearted spirit in which they were given. But now, she could not dispel that creeping feeling of guilt. It did not seem fair to accept presents from one man when her mind was on another.

Michael again. He was invading her privacy and making life difficult as well as distressing. There was not a part of her that could forget him, even for an afternoon.

Pierre made a quick stop at his hotel for a change of clothing. The ornate suite was decorated in heavy Louis XV furnishing and oil painting reminiscent of the Renaissance. Sonny marveled at how much he belonged in these surroundings.

"I won't be long," he said as he disappeared behind the double door entry to the bedroom. Sonny walked over to the tall narrow windows and looked down at the busy intersection below. She wondered how comfortable she would be escorting Michael to his hotel room.

When Pierre reappeared, he wore a black tuxedo with royal blue satin lapels and matching shirt. His flamboyancy overwhelmed her. A few months ago, she would hardly have noticed.

They dined in a exquisite restaurant adorned with crystal chandeliers and red velvet chairs. As Sonny sipped slowly on a glass of white wine, she wished for a taste of Margarita.

"You seem pre-occupied this evening," Pierre noticed.

"A little tired, that's all. I haven't been out this late since I left Paris."

"I find that hard to believe," Pierre said, shaking his head.

" I do too. But it's true."

"Tell me, Sondra, will you come back with me?"

That was the one question Sonny was unprepared to answer. She had explained her situation in detail to him, but now that she was training Midnight, she would not leave if she could. Staying another three

months would be necessary and by that time she would be ready to leave the chestnut colt,

"You know I have to abide by the terms of my father's will."

"I miss you. Life will not be the same until you return." Pierre reached across the table to touch her with his long, tapered fingers. "I will persuade you to come back with me," he said simply.

"I can't, Pierre."

"I am sure this Michael can handle things without you."

"It's not the farm exactly… it's Midnight. He needs me."

Sonny wanted so much for Pierre to understand how she felt, but looking into his troubled eyes she knew that he did not. The camaraderie that was formed