"Gray, please."
He just waved her to silence. "I think you can do better than that."
"You're killing me here," the woman said.
"See if you can stand a little more pain."
She grumbled, muttering about profit margins and the quality of her merchandise. But she juggled figures, sliced a bit, then patted a hand over her heart. "I'm cutting my own throat."
Gray winked at her, took out his wallet. "Box them up. Send them to the Plaza."
"Gray, no."
"Sorry." He unclasped the pearls, handed them negligently to the delighted clerk. "You'll have them by tonight. It's not smart to walk around with them."
"That's not what I mean, and you know it."
"You have such a lovely voice," the clerk said to distract her. "Are you Irish?"
"I am, yes. You see-"
"It's her first trip to the States. I want her to have something special to remember it by." He took Brianna's hand, kissing her fingers in a way that made even the clerk's cynical heart sigh, "I want that very much."
"You don't have to buy me things."
"That's part of the beauty of it. You never ask."
"And what part of Ireland are you from, dearie?"
"County Clare," Brianna murmured, knowing she'd lost again. "It's in the west."
"I'm sure it's lovely. And you're going to..." After taking Gray's credit card, the clerk read the name and yelped. "Grayson Thane. God, I read all your books. I'm your biggest fan. Wait until I tell my husband. He's your biggest fan, too. We're going to see your movie next week. Can't wait. Can I have your autograph? Milt's just not going to believe it."
/>
"Sure." He took the pad she shoved at him. "This you, Marcia?" He tapped the business card displayed on the counter.
"That's me. Do you live in New York? It never says where on the back of your books."
"No, I don't." He smiled at her, handing her back the pad to distract her from asking more questions.
" To Marcia,' " she read, " 'a gem among gems. Fondly, Grayson Thane.' " She beamed at him now, but not so brightly she forgot to have him sign the credit slip. "You come back any time you're looking for something special. And don't you worry, Mr. Thane. I'll have these sent out to your hotel right away. You enjoy your necklace, dearie. And you enjoy New York."
"Thanks, Marcia. Give my best to Milt." Pleased with himself, he turned back to Brianna. "Want to look around some more?"
Numb, she merely shook her head. "Why do you do that?" she managed when they were on the street again. "How do you make it impossible to say no when I mean no."
"You're welcome," he said lightly. "Are you hungry? I'm hungry. Let's get a hot dog."
"Gray." She stopped him. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever had," she said solemnly. "And so are you."
"Good." He grabbed her hand and led her to the next corner, calculating that he'd softened her up enough so that she'd let him buy her the perfect dress for the premiere.
She argued. She lost. To balance things out Gray backed off when she insisted on paying for her trinkets for Ireland herself. He amused himself helping her figure her change with the unfamiliar American money she'd gotten at the airport bank. It fascinated him that she seemed more dazzled by the toy store than by the jewelry or dress shops they'd visited. And when inspiration hit, he discovered her even more enthralled with a kitchen specialty store.
Delighted with her, he carted her bags and boxes back to the hotel, then charmed her into bed, spinning out time with long, luxurious lovemaking.
He wined and dined her at Le Cirque, then in a rush of nostalgic romanticism, took her dancing at the Rainbow Room, enjoying as much as she the out-of-time decor and big band sound.
Then he loved her again, until she slept exhausted beside him, and he lay wakeful.
He lay wakeful a long time, smelling the roses he'd given her, stroking the silk of her hair, listening to her quiet, even breathing.
Somewhere during that twilight time of half sleep, he thought of how many hotels he'd slept in alone. How many mornings he'd awakened alone, with only the people he created inside his head for company.
He thought of how he preferred it that way. He always had. And how, with her curled beside him, he wasn't quite able to recapture that sensation of solitary contentment.
Surely he would again, when their time was up. Even half dreaming he warned himself not to dwell on tomorrow, and certainly not on yesterday.
Today was where he lived. And today was very nearly perfect.
Chapter Sixteen
By the following afternoon Brianna was still dazzled enough with New York to try to look everywhere at once. She didn't care if she appeared so obviously the tourist, snapping pictures with her camera, staring up, her neck craned back, to see the very top of the spearing buildings. If she gawked, what of it? New York was a noisy and elaborate sideshow designed to stun the senses.
She pored over the guidebook in their suite, making careful lists and dutifully crossing off each sight she'd seen.
Now she had to face the prospect of a business lunch with Gray's agent.
"Arlene's terrific," Gray assured Brianna as he hustled her along the street. "You'll like her."
"But this lunch." Though she slowed her pace, he didn't allow her to hang back as she would have preferred. "It's
like a business meeting. I should wait for you somewhere, or perhaps join you when you've finished. I could go to Saint Patrick's now, and-"