What is Love? by Tessa Saks Page B

and pulled him into bed.
    “And just whose
fault is that?” Rory mumbled, kissing her neck.
    “Shhh, you are
beautiful. So very beautiful,” she whispered. Her fingers traced over the
crevices formed by well-trained muscles on his chest and arms.
    “Not like the
withered old fart, huh?” he laughed, grasping his heart and mock panting.
    “Very funny,” she
laughed and slapped him on the chest.
    “Oh sorry, I
forgot—you love the old geezer.”
    “What do you know
about love, Mr. Sex-buddy?”
    “Well—I know I love
money, just like you. So I guess I could love an old broad with loads of cash,
she might be worth sticking around for.” He kissed her, leaving a trail of
marked territory along her shoulders. His hands hovered over her body,
searching for more flesh. He pulled the corset down and started gently kissing
her breasts. She moaned with delight.
    He climbed on top of
her, pinning her arms over her head. “You like him for the money and me for the
sex. Admit it,” Rory demanded. Sam struggled to free her arms. Rory’s hands
tightened around her wrists and pressed her into the bed. He laughed as she
squirmed and tried to get free. “Come on, admit it.”
    She stopped her
futile struggle. “Yes. Okay. You win. I admit after I marry him, I plan to keep
you as my sex slave.”
    He kissed her, then
released his grip. “I thought so.”
    “Too bad you’re not
rich,” Sam laughed, rubbing her wrists.
    “If I were rich, I
could have any hot babe I wanted—supermodels and playmates—why would I want a
golddigger like you?” She hit him on the chest with her fists. He grabbed her
hands, pulled her tight and kissed her. “Okay. Maybe if I were rich and tired
of all those shallow women, maybe I’d want you. Maybe then.” He climbed off her
and sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the window. “Too bad I’m flat
broke. Guess you’ll have to marry ol’ dickwad.”
    “Are you actually
jealous?” Sam asked, unable to hide her sarcasm.
    “Of him? No way.” He
turned and faced her. “I wouldn’t want to be old and fat.” Rory laughed, then
turned away again. “But yeah, I’d like to spoil babes with fancy stuff  … jewelry, clothes, take ‘em to fancy
places …”
    Sam sat up and
rubbed his back, tracing hearts across his shoulders with her fingers. “It is
fun being spoiled. I must admit, I do love the money. I’ve gotten quite
attached to it. In fact, I’m ruined. Now I’ll always need to be rich.”
    Rory turned and
slapped her thigh. “So get to work and get his money, you hussy—Hey, where is
Romeo tonight?”
    “Barbados, with his
ugly old wife,” Sam said, surprised by the crack in her voice.
    “Ahhh!” Rory lay
back and grabbed Sam at her waist. “So that’s why you called me.”
    “Yeah. I’m pissed at
him—”
    “Why? For taking his
wife on a vacation?” Rory put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “He is married, you know.”
    She pulled away from
his grip and reached for a cigarette. Sam turned to face him, then leaned
against the footboard, lighting the cigarette. With her head tilted back, she
took a slow drag from the menthol cigarette, the dim light hiding her shaking
hand. “He’s trying to take it slowly.” She faced Rory. “It pisses me off. He
was all set to start the divorce and stuff, and now, wham! Out of the blue, he
wants to take his time and not rush, for her sake.” Rory grabbed an empty
candleholder and leaned forward to catch the ashes falling from Sam’s wavering
cigarette that zigzagged as she spoke. “I mean, get on with it, already,” she
demanded. “Why wait?”
    “Good God, he’s
changed his mind. He actually wants the old wife,” Rory said with a wide grin.
“That’s it! It’s too late. You’re screwed.”
    Sam threw her
lighter at him and scowled. “Nice try. He loves me. Really, he does.”
    Rory laughed. “Okay,
Mrs. Horvath. Where’s your ring?”
    “He still wants me.
I just have to wait. Be a good girl and wait.”