Danielle Steel - One Day at a Time

“Jane will be fine,” she reassured him again. “She has other things on her mind right now. She's up to her ears in headaches and union problems on location with a film. Our little romance is going to be the last thing on her mind.” Not to mention the baby, which he knew nothing about, and hopefully wouldn't for a long time. They might even be married by then. Gabriel had been talking about it all summer, and Florence loved the idea. The only stumbling block they'd had to overcome was the girls. And she wasn't about to upset them even further by talking marriage. She wanted them to get to know him, and hoped they would calm down.

For the rest of dinner they talked about the movie he was working on. She had been going over scripts with him for months, and had given him excellent advice. They worked well as a team. In fact, they were a great match at everything they did. She noticed a few people glance at her enviously as they finished dinner. Other women looked at her, stared at Gabriel, then back at her with open admiration, or so she thought. No one had ever referred to him as her son. And he looked slightly older than he was. The difference between them looked more like ten years than twenty-four. And a woman with a man ten years younger was fairly common these days. Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher had forged the way for couples such as theirs. She was to be envied, or so she thought, not criticized or shunned.

They went back to her place afterward, as they usually did. He stayed with her most nights now, and had for the past several months. And once in a while, when they wanted to do something special, they spent the weekend at the Bel-Air Hotel. When they stayed there, Gabriel always paid. He never let Florence pay for anything for him, except random gifts. He had given her a diamond bracelet for their six-month anniversary, and he was hoping to give her an engagement ring sometime in the next year, but she didn't know about that yet. He had already picked one out. He was hoping her daughters would have met and approved of him by then. He didn't want to tear their family apart, but he was madly in love with their mother, for better or worse. He thought she was terrific.

Gabriel stretched out on her bed as though he owned it, and by now, he did, just as he owned her. Discovering sex with him had been an experience like no other in her life. It had never been this good in her thirty-six years with Buzz, even when they were young. Gabriel was an incredible lover. He had recently told his own mother about their affair, and she had been just as upset as Jane. But she was also beginning to understand that there was nothing she could do about it. Gabriel said he was in love with her and had made up his mind. And she knew her son well. She knew that nothing she could do would sway Gabriel from what or whom he wanted. He was the most persistent man in the world. He had been that way with Florence too, when she resisted him at first. But she didn't for long. She had given in and abandoned herself to the myriad pleasures they shared. Sex wasn't the most important on that list, although it mattered, but he loved talking to her, laughing with her, listening to her, holding her for hours on end after they made love. He loved everything about her, her mind, her body, her style, her strength, her fame, her reputation, and her enormous talent. She was a woman like no other, beyond compare. He had expected to feel insignificant with her, but instead she pulled him up to her level in so many ways. He was learning so much from her, about writing, discipline, talent, humor. Thanks to her, his writing had already improved immeasurably, as had his directing. He could tell, and Florence noticed it too. He felt as though he were worshipping at the feet of the master, and in many ways he was.

As he lay in bed with her that night, he took off her sexy gold sandals and tossed them to the floor. The white jeans and turquoise silk shirt were next. She was wearing a thong and a lacy pale blue bra, and he smiled as he looked at her.

“There isn't a sexier woman alive,” he said, admiring her. Her body was still slim and tight. She worked out with one of the best trainers in town now every day. Making love with Gabriel every night gave her motivation. And she had taught him things he never knew.

She slowly peeled his clothes off then, in her slow sensual way that drove him insane, and moments later they were lying naked in each other's arms. She let the help go home at night now, and on warm nights they made love in the pool. But tonight, they were content to stay in her bed. It was a huge four-poster with a pink canopy, and for the past year it had been home to him.

She covered his lips with her own, slid on top of him, and began to ride him, and within seconds, Gabriel began to moan. She stayed that way, alternately teasing and pleasing, tantalizing him, and then slipped off him again, and went down on him with her mouth. He returned the favor and slowly the tides turned, and Gabriel was in control, and he drove her as crazy as she had him. It was a long time before they were sated and it was over, and afterward she lay in his arms, looking pleased. Gabriel looked spent and exhausted, and then laughed as he held her. He didn't know what her daughters thought of him, and at the moment he didn't care. He had never loved a woman like this. And minutes later, they were sound asleep in each other's arms. For both of them, the rest of the world just didn't exist.

Chapter 9

In mid-August, Leslie got a call from Chloe's mother. She had been invited on a yacht in the South of France for two weeks. She'd been spending weekends in Southampton with Chloe, and had been working on the same play on Broadway for a year.

“I'm sorry to do this to you, Leslie,” Monica apologized. She usually gave him more notice. “I need a vacation, and I may not get another chance for months. They have a good understudy for me, and I'd love like hell to get to Saint-Tropez on a boat. Could you take Chloe for me for a couple of weeks?” Normally, he would have leaped at the chance, but he had no idea how Liz and Jane would feel about having a child in their house. They were expecting their own now, but that was different. A six-year-old was more of a presence than a newborn, to say the least. He wanted her to get to know Coco anyway, so he hoped they would allow it.

“I think I can,” he said, sounding awkward. “I'm actually house-sitting at the moment, camping out at friends'. I have to ask them if they're okay about having a little girl here. I suppose if not, I could go to a hotel.” But he would lose his anonymity there, and everyone would know he was in town. He wanted to stay under the radar with Coco for a while. They didn't need the headache of the press. “I'll call you back,” he promised, and immediately called Jane. Instead he got Liz, who was keeping her cell phone for her while she was on the set. He explained his dilemma to her, but said he'd go to a hotel with his daughter if they preferred.

“Don't be silly,” Liz assured him. “We'd better get used to having kids in the house. We're having one of our own.” She wasn't sure if Coco had told him, or was friendly enough with him to do so. She knew that Coco had been telling Jane they hardly saw each other, which Liz didn't entirely believe.

“So I hear. Congratulations, to both of you. And I really appreciate your letting me have Chloe here. She's a lamb, and very well behaved. Like a small adult. Her mother takes her everywhere.” But apparently not on a yacht in the South of France, Liz mused. “I can hardly wait to show her San Francisco, and I thought Coco and I could take her to the beach.”

“I'm sure she'd love that,” Liz said with interest. What he said didn't quite support Coco's claims to her sister that they rarely met. “How are you and Coco getting along, by the way?” Liz asked innocently, fishing a little. She couldn't resist. For some strange reason, she loved the idea of them together. She had a lot of respect for Jane's younger sister, far more than Jane did herself. Unlike Jane, she didn't think Coco was a hopeless case, just different from her hardcore ambitious sister, and she knew Ian's death had hit her hard. Liz had always been very fond of Leslie too, and in spite of being an actor and a major star, she thought he was a good man, with good values.