‘So whaddya think?’
Evie opened her eyes to see the huge grin that came to Adam’s face at the chorus of approval. It was the first time she’d seen him smile—really smile—today, and it made her feel like happy-dancing inside.
Until Neil’s voice interrupted. ‘Cam, take the girls and get some shots from down there.’ He pointed to the beach. ‘Evie, get another camera and set up near those rocks on the headland for the interviews.’ He indicated an outcrop with his hand. ‘Adam, you’re up first.’
Casting her a glare toxic enough to terrify an attack dog, Chrissy reluctantly released Adam’s arm and followed Cam and Meg. With his crestfallen shoulders, downcast face and thumbs hooked into the back pockets of his jeans, Adam looked about as happy with what was happening as Chrissy did. Evie tried silently willing him to look at her, but he wouldn’t do it. He just stood there until she returned with the camera, his broad shoulders squared with tension and his face sombre, avoiding any eye contact. It was inexplicable and unnerving.
‘You okay?’ she asked, setting the camera on its tripod.
‘Fine.’ His demeanour told another story.
‘Have I done something to upset you?’ She eyed him through the lens.
He shook his dark head. ‘No.’ He sounded certain. She allowed herself to relax a little, until he added, ‘But you’re going to.’
Now what did that mean? Her sudden difficulty in breathing had to be the heat.
‘Can you be more specific?’ She hated having to press him but this was important.
‘You know things about me that I can’t—that I don’t …’
He hesitated, still refusing to look at her, and she realised there was no way her increasing sense of discomfort was caused by the heat. It was foreboding.
‘Adam, I think I know where you’re heading with this and I want you to know, I haven’t mentioned your fostering to anyone. Although I really don’t get why you think it needs to be kept a secret. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. This wall you’ve built around yourself—it’s doing so much more harm than good.’ She could hear her speech becoming faster and faster, a sure sign she was nervous, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. ‘You need to get it all out in the open. It’s the only way to move on. Talk to someone. Talk to me. It’s part of my job to help people understand themselves. Let me—’ She stopped, astonished at his reaction.
Uh oh.
The intensity of hurt in the deeply wounded glance he shot her was punishing. She sucked in a quick breath. His tightened lips, the brows drawn together, the unnaturally stiff way he held his body, all pointed towards a depth of misery she could never have anticipated. What had she said? She hadn’t meant to sound condescending or critical. He couldn’t have taken it that way, could he? All she’d wanted to do was help.
Not knowing how to snatch back the words—or even why she needed to—she said nothing, just stood and stared at him, feeling like an idiot. His face remained darkly troubled and his immense body pulsed with suppressed emotion. She’d never seen him like this. It threw her off balance.
A minute passed in silence as she watched a series of emotions cross his face. Then his strong jaw hardened and he raised his head to look at her. ‘So, it’s your job to help the poor foster kid come to terms with his background. Yeah, well, thanks but no thanks.’ His voice simmered with tension. ‘You’re not my psychologist and I don’t want or need your help.’ His dark eyes glared at her. ‘Okay?’
The barb hit with an almighty sting. ‘No, it’s not okay. That’s not what this is about,’ she fired back.
He gave a disbelieving shake of his head. Crossing his arms over his broad chest, wrapping himself up in an icy coldness, he closed himself off even further from her. This was not good. She’d stirred up something raw inside him, something hurtful and lonely, and she had no idea how to make things right.
Intuitively she reached for his arm, offering the reassurance of physical contact, but he backed away from her touch, in no mood to be soothed. She rubbed the hand up and down her own arm instead, working hard to compose her features. The silent accusation in his gaze remained, and it hurt.
A sudden panic skittered up her spine—if Adam didn’t trust her, if she’d lost his respect, she’d have no hope of helping him, as she’d promised May she would. She couldn’t let that happen. She had to do something to salvage the situation.
There was nothing to defend herself with but the truth. Aspects of it, at least. The whole truth was a can of worms that couldn’t be opened. Not unless she was prepared to face the fact she was more worried for him, right now, than upset for herself; not unless she was ready to concede just how deeply she was being drawn into his life. Two things she could not afford to acknowledge.
‘You’re not some poor foster kid, Adam. You’re a man lucky enough to have people who think so much of you they’re not prepared to stand by and watch you battle through this on your own.’ She sucked in a slow deep breath to ease the tightness in her chest. This was the tricky part; how much to say without actually admitting how much she cared about him. ‘And my priority right now is not my job or the show, despite what—’
‘Come on, Evie.’ He cut her off with a bitter laugh. ‘This show’s success is more important to you than anything else. That’s why you’re constantly at me to open up and express my feelings. So you can satisfy your audience’s need to learn all about the supposedly real me, even though we both know any interest in me ends as soon as the series is over.’
Conversation with him had become a minefield, primed and ready to blow.
‘It is part of my job to help the audience relate to you, yes, but—’
‘Stop reminding me you’re only doing your damn job! Trust me, I’m just as aware of your obligations as I am of my own responsibilities to the program.’
‘Give me a chance to finish,’ she said, gently but firmly. He stared at the ground. ‘After talking with May yesterday, my priority at the moment is you, Adam. You’ve got a lot locked up inside and I want to help you.’
‘Do I have your guarantee that your boss won’t use whatever I might say about my past as fodder for the show?’ His dark-brown eyes searched hers for the answer she couldn’t give him.
She winced involuntarily. His assessment of what Neil would do with anything Adam revealed was too close to the truth.
‘You don’t have to say anything. It’s written all over your face.’ The judgement in his gaze sent a shiver through her, despite the relentless heat. He leaned in, towering over her, more intense than she’d ever seen him. ‘But I’ll give you something for at least being honest with me. You want to know how I feel? Right now, incredibly disappointed. I was hoping maybe I meant a bit more to you than just another client.’ She watched his throat move before he turned away from her.
It hurt her heart to hear his words. The ache inside, being so close to him yet unable to so much as touch him, throbbed. All she wanted to do was throw herself into his arms, to kiss him, to soothe away the sadness.
But she couldn’t. Too much was at stake.
His hands balled into tight fists at his side. ‘I’m angry, too,’ he said, still with his back to her. ‘I feel like I’ve signed my life away. I went into this thing with the understanding you’d be recording my journey. But what you’re doing—you and Neil and Cam—is invading my life.’ His voice vibrated with frustration and resentment.
What could she say to that? He was right.
Incapable of any sort of self-defence, all she could offer was her heartfelt apology. ‘Oh, Adam.’ She approached his unyielding back with a hand outstretched. ‘I’m so sorry for you and—’
He rounded on her, punching one hand into the other. ‘I’ve told you before, don’t ever pity me!’ He kicked savagely at a rock with his boot.
The force of the action, the unexpected fury in his voice, made her flinch. Instinctively, she pulled back and he stopped dead, his face blanching and his dark eyes bleaker than sh
e’d ever seen them. He stumbled several steps backwards, as if afraid of being anywhere near her, a horrified look on his face.
‘It’s okay,’ she said, reaching for him. ‘I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I wanted to say how sorry I am we’ve turned your life upside down.’
He stared at her for a long moment, still appearing shocked at his own reaction. ‘No,’ he said finally. ‘No, I’m the one who needs to apologise.’ The anger was gone from his face and his voice, replaced now by misery. ‘I’m sorry I frightened you.’ He visibly gathered himself, taking back control of the muscles in his face and squaring his broad shoulders. ‘I know you’ve got your job to do. And I’ve made a commitment I’ll follow through with.’ The words emerged low and strained. ‘But I’m warning you, Evie, don’t try to psychoanalyse me. I don’t want to talk about my childhood, with you or anyone else.’
‘But I—’
‘My past is none of your business.’
‘But—’
‘But nothing. End of discussion.’ He walked away without a backwards glance.
Hands clasped in front of her face, Evie pushed out a shaky breath as she watched him leave. Not one of her finest moments. In fact the emotionally charged subject of Adam’s childhood was an absolute disaster area. Clearly there was more to his story than what she already knew. Seeing first hand how much pain the mere mention of it caused him, her feeling of guilt at being responsible weighed heavily in her heart. His uncharacteristic anger had been partly her fault, too. After all, she was a member of the invasion party into his life.
He had described just a little too perfectly how she felt—like an intruder, forcing her way into his psyche, when he couldn’t have made it more clear that his childhood was a no-go zone. Common sense told her to walk away from the whole situation. To stand back and not get involved.
Like that’s going to happen.
She couldn’t help herself. She’d be lying not to admit she was beginning to care deeply for Adam. For the first time in a long time, she’d come across a man who challenged and intrigued her. A man who, without even touching her, did wonderful, warm, tingly things to her body that she hadn’t felt for way too long.
Who made her feel things she couldn’t afford to feel.
She hated her choices. Somehow, some way, in spite of his vehement refusal to cooperate, she had to crack the defences that kept Adam untouchable. For his sake. But if she succeeded at that, Neil would know she was withholding something. He’d squeeze it out of her, as he always managed to, and Adam would be the one who suffered.
She needed another option. The sad fact was, she didn’t have one.
With all the morning’s high hopes now completely evaporated, she searched her mind for some small positive to take from the misery-ridden confrontation with Adam. There was only one thing she could come up with. He’d actually expressed his feelings in words. Not exactly the words she would have liked to hear, but nevertheless he had articulated his emotions. That had to be a good thing. Didn’t it?
* * *
It wasn’t until Adam reached the safety of the inside of the vehicle that he allowed the agonising emotional confusion inside to manifest itself. He hunched over in the driver’s seat, gripping his stomach as a wave of self-loathing washed over him. What was wrong with him? He’d reacted with so much anger.
He’d frightened Evie, made her flinch away from him in fear. He cringed inwardly as images of his small self, cowering against the violent whims of his father, blazed through his brain.
He swallowed back tears, squeezed his hands against his temples. How could he have done that to Evie? He’d believed the aggressive outbursts of his childhood were a thing of the past, no longer necessary with a family who loved him.
Apparently not. He’d totally lost control, helpless to prevent the primitive need to lash out.
Maybe you’re more your father’s son than you think.
The unbidden thought hit him with the force of a water main about to blow. His heartbeat exploded and his throat tightened with fear until realisation forced its way through the veil of shock.
No! He would never resort to violence against another human being in expressing his feelings.
He’d worked his way through that. The paediatric counsellor had helped a little, but it was May and Larry who’d shown him other ways to cope with the rage. One of those ways was to acknowledge the emotion as being warranted. Had it been? He needed to think.
Straightening his body as best he could in the confined space, he pulled his thoughts together, going over what had started the confrontation. It didn’t take long. Yes. His anger with Evie was justified, a case of strong emotion leading to a strong reaction. Her insistence on the importance of him opening up about his past, on top of the constant reminders that she was only doing her job, had once again struck a raw nerve.
The trick, he recalled being taught, was to accept the emotion without being overwhelmed by it. The one-eyed focus Evie had on her job was something he had no choice but to accept. He could wish it otherwise until the cows came home; it wouldn’t make any difference.
But his own guilt at flying off the handle with her, when she had no possible way of knowing, or even comprehending, the true horror of what he’d gone through, cut into his gut. He glanced down at fingers curled so tightly around the steering wheel the knuckles were white. Suddenly desperately in need of fresh air, he opened the door to the sound of Neil’s raised voice cutting through the stillness.
‘I. Warned. You.’ Each word was punctuated with a finger in Evie’s face, as the man moved in agitated steps back and forth in front of her. For an instant she seemed about to protest but then she backed down, shoulders sagging and head lowered in submission.
Without a second thought, Adam was out of the Land Rover and striding towards them, a surge of adrenaline setting the blood pounding in his ears. Neil’s bullying tactics were crude and uncalled for, and he had no right to treat Evie—or anyone—with such disrespect.
‘What’s up, guys?’ He wasn’t sure how, but he managed to keep his voice level.
They both turned to look at him. Neil regarded him with displeasure and Evie, her lovely eyes silently pleading, gave him a tight shake of her head. A request not to interfere? If so, too late. Adam positioned himself between them.
‘You might as well be in on this, seeing as it involves you.’ The editor didn’t bother to hide his agitation. ‘It’s becoming clear you two have developed a bit of a thing for one another. Observing the in-depth that just took place was very revealing, even though I couldn’t hear anything. You could hardly keep your hands off each other.’
Adam felt a rush of intense heat to his face. He heard Evie’s startled gasp, watched her shake her head in denial. In spite of the warmth, a sudden coldness shot up his spine. Neil had it so wrong; things had to be set straight.
‘What happened was, Evie asked me something I didn’t want to answer. When she persisted with the questions, I got annoyed and unfairly took it out on her. That’s it. I don’t know where you got the idea there was anything more to it.’
Neil’s assessing look was dubious. He needed more convincing.
Where he dragged it up from, Adam had no idea. A laugh. A full-throated laugh that, judging by the amount of blinking Evie was doing, caught her just as much by surprise as it did him.
He nudged her ribcage with his elbow. ‘Your boss thinks we’ve got feelings for one another. How crazy is that?’
He laughed again, and this time she hesitantly joined him. ‘Ridiculous. Nuts. As if,’ she agreed, a little too emphatically.
Okay, no need to go overboard.
Neil continued to eye them suspiciously. ‘No feelings? Really?’ He said it with a strong hint of disbelief.
‘Really,’ Adam confirmed, hating the lie but needing to do something to assuage his guilt. This situation had developed because of him. ‘One of the reasons I felt I could take my feelings out on Evie was because I knew she wo
uldn’t hold it against me. She’s like … family to me.’
He glanced at Evie. She stood with both hands tucked into the back pockets of her cut-off jeans, studying the ground at her feet.
Neil’s grunt made it plain he still didn’t believe him.
The last thing Adam wanted to do was suck up to the editor but the situation needed salvaging. ‘Look, Evie’s a great girl. I like her. There’s been a tonne of pressure on me and she’s gone far beyond what has to be her duty, helping me cope. But I’m fully aware of my obligations to you and the program. I wouldn’t jeopardise that.’ That, at least, was the truth. He’d never risk losing the farm.
Evie shook her head vehemently, setting her long ponytail swinging. ‘Neither would I, Boss. You know that.’
Neil regarded them both pensively over the top of his black-rimmed glasses, his closed left hand resting on his chin while a finger tapped his cheek. Just one more bit of reassurance should do it.
Adam laid it all on the line. ‘And even if either of us had these imaginary feelings, it’d never work out. I’m after a woman to make a life with me out here. Both Meg and Chrissy are keen to do that. I can’t see Evie giving up everything she’s worked so hard for, for life on a pearl farm. Can you?’ One hand moved up, tugging distractedly at the neck of his T-shirt to make it easier to swallow around the sudden thickness blocking his throat. Facing facts didn’t come easy.
The editor’s answering smile just touched the corners of his mouth. ‘You know what? You’re right.’ A brusque laugh emerged. ‘Evie, you’d go stir-crazy in a backwater like this.’ He dismissed their surroundings with a flick of his hand. ‘And even if you were stupid enough to fall for someone so wrong for you, again, living in the sticks isn’t for people like you and me. Way too low-key.’
Adam risked a glance at her. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. He already knew how she felt about living in the city—she’d admitted that yesterday—but he had hoped to maybe see her bridle at the derogatory comment. Or at least show some reaction to Neil’s suggestion that the two of them shared similar negative feelings about this place Adam loved so much.
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