Final Destination III (10 page)

My beloved Power Ranger.

And then his eyes became watery and his voice emotional. He clasped my hands again in his. “Oh, baby, when I saw you lying in that pool of blood, I thought I was dying too. I knew right then that I could never live without you.”

I was reliving the moment… my Trainman hovering over me, his tear falling onto me. His words echoed in my head, “Please don’t leave me. I love you, Saarah.” And at that moment, I loved him more than I had ever loved anyone before.

Overwhelmed with emotion, I began to sob uncontrollably.

He comforted me in his strong, manly arms. “Please don’t cry. I’m not going to leave you, Saarah.”

Oh, how he said my name! A sorrowful, passionate whisper. But there was still reality. “But Catherine will take Ben away from you,” I choked.

“She’s dead,” he said, his voice dry ice.

I jolted with shock.
Catherine was dead?

“Andre shot her. She died instantly.”

That must have been the explosion I heard. I was right. Andre must have been a Navy Seal. Or a trained assassin.

Ari gazed into my eyes. The look on his face was intense, loving, and all-encompassing “Oh, my beautiful princess, I have always loved you. From the minute I saw you months ago at 30th Street Station. I knew that tall, pretty girl who bounced around in her combat boots and wept as she sketched in her notebook was different. And when looked into your big brown eyes on the train, something inside me changed. And then Ben took to you. I couldn’t stay away from you. I couldn’t stop wanting you in my bed to hold and cherish. To make love to and wake up to.”

I was melting. “Oh, Ari!”

“And now there is no one to keep us apart.”

He got down on one knee and held my hands. “Saarah, will you marry me?”

My mouth dropped open. I was frozen with shock.

He gazed at me longingly.

“Yes,” I finally said, my voice a breathy whisper.

His beautiful face lit up. From his shirt pocket, he pulled out a small black velvet box. He opened it. My breath hitched. Inside, was a sparkling diamond ring. Emerald shaped with two small baguettes on either side. The diamond was a fraction of the one Taylor gave Lauren, but it was beautiful. In fact, it was the most beautiful ring I had ever seen.

“My father gave my mother this ring. She wants you to have it.”

Tears were pouring down my face. I was a mess. I desperately needed a box of Kleenex. Make that a case.

Slowly, he lowered the ring onto my finger. And then he raised my hand to his lips.
Oh, those lips!

He moved to the edge of the bed and slowly raised me into his arms. “Am I hurting you?”

I shook my head. My pain had dulled. Love could hurt. And love could heal.

“I never want to hurt you, Saarah.” He moved his lips to mine and consumed them. The kiss was all-encompassing and passionate. I was tingling all over and wanted more, but knew, in my condition, that was not going to happen.

Not letting go of my lips, he lowered me back down and then climbed into the bed under the covers, stretching his long legs out parallel to mine. My head rested on his chest and the palm of my hand on his pulsing member. We were squeezed together, but I relished the warmth of his body next to mine.

A stern looking nurse walked into the room. She raised her eyebrows when she saw Ari in bed with me. “Mr. Golden, visiting hours are over.”

“Go away,” growled Ari.

I stifled a laugh that would hurt as the shocked nurse fled the room.

“I’m staying here tonight, my beautiful princess.” He turned off the light. “Sweet dreams, Saarah.”

My heart overflowed with joy. My beautiful Trainman was going to spend the night with me! In my bed. For the first time. I’d better get used to this. Smiling, I drifted off.

6

A
RI NURSED ME BACK TO health in his Park Avenue apartment. Despite my protest, he took two weeks off from work. The first week I was so weak he carried me everywhere, including to the bathroom. I rarely left his bed and he rarely left my side. I was the first woman to sleep in his plush four poster king-size bed. It was his first purchase after his divorce from Catherine--a means to cleanse himself of her.

We spent a lot of time together and really got to know each other. I finally told him that I had lost my virginity to him--a stranger on a train. “Saraah, you’re mine. Only mine,” he breathed back in my ear. The more I knew him, the more I loved him. Every day, he fed me, bathed me, and sent me flowers. His concierge doctor checked in on me daily. Ben made lots of adorable get-well cards and played with Jo-Jo the cat who moved in with us. The cat had no problem adjusting to his new Park Avenue digs.

By the second week, I was a lot stronger and able to get around with the help of crutches. I was itching to get back to work, but Ari would not have it. I was also itching to have Ari’s body, but he would not let me have that either. He felt I was still in no condition for him to consume me. He was wrong.

I wanted to get outside but that wasn’t happening either. Well, I suppose if one had to be holed up somewhere, Ari’s magnificent Park Avenue penthouse wasn’t a bad place to be. Lauren, who had made a speedy recovery after being released from the hospital, came to visit. She brought me dozens of bride magazines from around the world, and we thumbed through them together looking for the perfect wedding dress. Despite her loss, she was genuinely happy that I was marrying Ari. Miss Know-It-All had called it--that we would end up together.

“Where are you going to register?” she asked as we flipped through yet another magazine. “Bloomie’s has the best china and housewares department.”

I told her that Ari and I had everything we needed. Instead of gifts, we were asking friends, family members, and well-wishers to make a donation to Meds Without Borders. Lauren rolled her eyes. I was glad to hear she was in therapy for her addiction to bad boys. Of course, she already had a mad crush on her therapist, who was one of New York’s hottest bachelors. I never told her that Taylor had hit on me. Sometimes, what you don’t know won’t hurt you. Other times, it can change your life.

Ari’s mother and sister Gwen also came by. I thanked Gwen for saving my life. She was very humble. I discovered that beneath her cold façade, she was a warm, loving person with a wicked sense of humor. I was looking forward to having her as my sister-in-law.

Fernando  also stopped by and shared all the office gossip. Catherine’s “fatal cab accident”--which I miraculously survived--was the talk of the office. It was rumored to be grisly. Some had even heard that Catherine was decapitated. I had no idea how Ari managed to spin the story. Not even Fernando knew the truth. The two of us worked on Combat Wombats.  Ben loved the concept and designs and was a great source of inspiration.

Ben and I spent a lot of time together, reading stories and playing games. The cutie pie finally beat me at Pac-Man. One morning, when we were having breakfast together, he asked me, “Sarah, after you and Daddy get married, can I call you Mommy?” A bemused smile crossed Ari’s face. I started to cry. Tears of joy.

On the night before I was going back to work, Ari and I were watching
West Side
Story
on Netflix, snuggled naked together in his bed under a fluffy comforter. We were at the very end. The part where Maria is holding Tony in her arms as he dies. I was bawling for the umpteenth time.

Ari turned to me and wiped away my tears. “Your tears make you more beautiful, my princess.”

His tender words only made my cry harder. I was a blubbering mess.

He flutter kissed my neck, licking the tears off my flesh before they rolled onto my now exposed healing wound. “There’s only one cure for tears,” he whispered in my ear.

He rolled over to his side. “Face me,” he ordered. I rolled onto my side, happy it was not the one with the stab wound.

Beneath the comforter, I felt his familiar fingers between my legs. They stroked my cleft, instantly bringing a rush of moisture to the tender folds. Yes, I was wet with want. It had been too long.

“You’re so moist and hot,” he moaned as he moved to my clit. He circled it slowly, then picked up speed, pressing harder. My core heated up with his body until it was on fire.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked with that deep, sexy growl I had so missed.

I’m not sure if he meant if I was well enough or wet enough for him. It didn’t matter. I wrapped my fingers around his velvety hot thickness and inserted it into my hungering hole. I moaned as he slid his splendid cock up my wet tunnel, inch by inch until it hit my hot spot. His mouth crushed into mine before I could shriek with pleasure.

As his tongue made love inside my mouth, his glorious cock made love to me inside my tunnel. I squeezed my muscle around his hot thick organ as he drove it harder and faster through the flooded passageway. We were heading toward the same place. Our final destination.

As I exploded in his bed for the very first time around his hot spurting locomotive, I knew our journey together had just begun.

Two months later, my wedding day came. It took place at Ari’s—or should I say,
our
—Southampton estate. We both opted for a small, intimate affair with just our close friends and family. Gwen and Lauren were my maids of honor. Ben was the ring bearer and Andre’s darling six-year-old niece was the flower girl. Guess who was best man—Fernando! We were getting married at dusk on the beach—on the very spot where Ari and I had made love.

I was getting ready in the guesthouse. Miguel and June, from Bergdorf’s, did my hair and makeup while Luisa, Olga, and my mother prepped my dress. I was so happy my mother was with me on my special day. She was in complete remission thanks to Ari, whose company happened to be the manufacturer of her experimental drug treatment. The minute he heard her insurance was no longer going to cover it, my beautiful and benevolent husband-to-be generously paid for it himself. For this alone, I was forever beholden to him. It made me love him more, if more was possible.

“Oh, honey, your dress is so beautiful,” exclaimed my teary-eyed mother as she helped me step into it. Lauren had helped me pick out the gown at Bergdorf’s Bridal Salon. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Even I could not believe how gorgeous I looked. I was floating in a cloud of ivory tulle and lace. Underneath, I was wearing nothing except a blue garter borrowed from Lauren that Ari vowed to bite off later. A tingle rippled through me as I thought about what else he had in store for me… later.

There was one final touch. Luisa placed it on my head. My tiara. “Ah, Señorita Sarah, you are a true
princessa,”
beamed Ari’s beloved housekeeper, who today was an honored guest just like the rest of Ari’s trusted help.

Olga handed me my bouquet—exquisite lilies and roses that Ari had handpicked from our garden. I was ready. Ready to be united with my man. The beautiful man whom I had once dreamt about and thought I could never have. With my mom, Luisa, and Olga holding up the long train of my gown, I headed outside. The bride wore combat boots.

The weather of this late summer evening couldn’t have been more perfect. It was warm with a balmy sea breeze. As the sun set into the ocean, a harpist played “Tonight.” The sound of the waves crashing against the shore mingled with the cries of seagulls. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach.

Ari strongly wanted a traditional Jewish wedding and for the spirit of his father to be with us. He was waiting for me under a
chuppah
, a canopy that was made from the
tallis—
a fringed silk shawl—that once belonged to his father. That is where we were going say our forever vows, shroud in his father’s love.