Free Born Again by Rena Marks Page A

where Aric might
be. But too proud to ask. Still, it was Saturday, maybe he worked weekends, she’d
never asked. And she didn’t want to be a bother.
    After eating, Sara sat at the bay window, looking out at the
gray skies. She didn’t have to work today, but she should be thinking about
getting home. She had her own place, she reminded herself. It was just so
relaxing to be here, to have others care for her, to not be lonely. Besides,
tonight she had to call Beau.
    She looked up as high heels entered the room, the clicking
against the hard floor striding directly toward her.
    “Good day, Sara,” said Francesca. She smiled warmly, as if
nothing had happened out of the ordinary last night.
    “Good afternoon,” Sara responded although it was still
early. Francesca sat next to her on the window seat.
    Sara’s face was tight and she tried to force it into a
semblance of normalcy.
    “Are you feeling all insecure inside?” Francesca asked.
    Sara smiled tightly. “A little.” She turned back toward the
window and finally asked the question that had been plaguing her. “Where’s Rafe?”
    Francesca put her hand out to rub Sara’s back. “That’s why I
came in by myself. We didn’t want to overwhelm you. He’s working still,” she
said.
    She continued to rub and Sara gradually began to relax. Her
taut neck muscles began to melt under Francesca’s magic touch.
    “You never have to do anything you don’t want to do,”
Francesca reminded softly. “If it makes you more comfortable to not speak of
it, we’ll do that. If you want to laughingly joke about it, we’ll do that. We’ll
let you lead and we’ll follow.”
    “I appreciate it,” Sara said and to her own ears, her voice
sounded small.
    “But before you tell me you don’t want to ever talk about
it, I have to say something,” Francesca said laughingly. “You have the most
beautiful breasts I’ve ever seen.” Her voice wasn’t a come-on, she was stating
a fact, as one friend would confide to another. “When we dress for dinner, I
think you should wear something strapless. Something to accentuate them. What
do you think? I’ll help you pick it out, it’ll be fun.”
    Sara felt a tiny smile start at her childlike enthusiasm. “What
time is dinner?”
    Francesca looked at the huge clock across the room. “We’ll
eat at five. We’ve plenty of time, but do you want to go prepare our outfits? We
can make it fancy,” she enticed. “So what if the men turn out in jeans? We’ll
have them drooling.”
    She was going out of her way to make a friendship, Sara
realized. It wasn’t Francesca’s nature to be overly friendly, she was more the
sultry, silent type. But she was making a concerted effort to ease her
feelings.
    So Sara could too. She nodded and Francesca pulled her to
her feet.
    Rafe arrived at the door as they were heading out and his
casual look took in Sara’s hand encased in Francesca’s.
    “Sara,” he said sincerely and leaned in slowly, as if he
feared he might frighten her.
    He kissed her cheek. It was a warm comforting kiss and it
lingered against her soft skin. He drew back just as slowly, as if he hoped she’d
pull him to her and greet him properly.
    “Rafe,” Sara said, almost shyly. But she looked deliberately
into his eyes.
    “Where are you ladies off to?” he asked casually, his gaze
locked on hers, never breaking.
    “We’re going to find something fun to wear for dinner,”
Francesca said.
    Something flashed violently in his eyes for the briefest
instant. Male lust.
    “Have a good time,” he said, as he stepped aside to let them
pass, finally breaking eye contact with Sara.
    They were walking down the hallway to Aric’s room when
Francesca said, “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
    “No,” Sara said slowly. “It actually wasn’t.”
    “And it’ll get easier and easier. You’ll see.”
    They were in Aric’s room now and went directly to the walk-in
closet. Rows upon rows of dresses hung and