by Cathryn Fox
“What to do? What to do?” Her fingers drummed against the worn laminated counter top. A glimmer of an idea formed. Pulling off her sweater, Samantha slid the vest back on and tightly laced it over her bra. She readjusted her silver and stone necklace to fit into the low V-neck, brushed her hair into a fluffy tumble of waves, and renewed her makeup.
“What’s this, Miss Scarlett, no velvet gown?” Adam’s exaggerated drawl teased.
“‘Fraid not, Captain Butler, they only had plastic blinds,” Samantha returned in her best magnolia-blossom accent, but she could tell by the expression in his eyes that he was pleased.
Fifteen minutes later, they had secured adjoining parking spaces and entered the unique atmosphere of the Grotto. As she followed the broad-backed maître d’ through a complicated maze of private little nooks to a secluded table for two, Samantha had a fleeting thought that a search party might be useful in such a place. The Grotto had become famous for combining cave-like decor with elegant crystal and china and the finest cuisine.
During the salad course, conversation flowed. Samantha discovered both of their father’s had been heavy smokers and died of lung cancer. They had similar views on almost everything but politics, music, movies, TV. Adam held up his hand. “I surrender. We’ll agree to disagree.” He leaned back against the dining chair, watching her animated features in the soft candlelight. “I wanted to tell you, that I put more than my checkbook out there. The publishing company is now a corporate sponsor for the Wounded Warrior Project. I’m seeing where we can hire in the executive office and at the warehouse. Both areas are handicap accessible. I knew I could help, or more correctly, you pointed out a way for me to help…” His lips quirked, “damn, there’s that lost puppy expression again and not a PEZ dispenser in sight.”
“I’ve already eaten all the packs you sent.” Samantha pushed her hair back, and blinked away the moisture that invaded her eyes. “Thank you. That was really wonderful. Can I push you to contact other CEO’s to–”
“Already in the works. One of the advantages of my position is contacts. We’re a lot alike, we know people. And truth be told, quite a few of the CEO’s I know are characters, too.”
“Wow, when you decide to do something…I am in awe!”
He reached across the table and captured her right hand. “I’m taking a page from your notebook. I’m hopeful you can give me a few more pointers and suggestions. There was an article in the newspaper, I brought it with me, about specially designed homes at Fort Belvoir for wounded warriors. I had no idea that over one-hundred thousand vets are homeless and…” At her arched brow and obvious interest, he smiled. “We’ve got the whole weekend to work on this.”
His thumb was making caressing little swirls along her wrist. She swallowed hard against the lump that formed in her throat. Her heart? It certainly had jumped. She had to stop all the five hour energy drinks. That’s all it was. Too much caffeine. She had said no to wine and had already consumed three cups of coffee. Yup, it was nothing more than caffeine and hormones.
Her hand was released when the waiter arrived to serve two mouth-watering plates of some exotic seafood dish Adam had selected. Samantha inhaled a deep, steadying breath. “I neglected to thank you for the presents. So far my little kitchen witch has successfully stopped two pots from boiling over and improved my morning coffee. Wonder Woman and the candy turned into dinner while I was stuck on the highway for four hours.”
“I’ll have to personally see how the infuser has improved your tea-making skills.”
“Please do,” she parried and then her forehead puckered. “Say, shouldn’t you be having a wedding rehearsal for tomorrow?”
Adam shook his head. “Hal and Katherine were heading for the airport to pick up her sister and family. We all know our parts and what to do. I don’t think either of them wanted Janine to get involved in hostessing a rehearsal dinner.” His green eyes rolled heavenward.
When he heard her laugh and saw the twinkle in her blue eyes, that knot formed in his stomach. No, more like a hot poker, that caused his breathing to stop. And then increase. Damn, one minute he was relaxed and comfortable. The next, he was on fire. Ready to pounce and devour the woman. He reached for the ice water, hoping it would cool his fevered reaction and wilt the hard-on that had formed.
But he doubted that would work. Or anything else. It had been building all week. He had a problem. A problem named Samantha Logan. Even a daily bruising game of racquetball failed to solve his problem.
Every day. Every night. A movie reel of fantasies clicked through his brain. How perfectly her lush curves filled the hard angles of his body. The very scent of her made him think of warm sand, soft tropical breezes. The taste of her soft skin at the base of her neck tantalized his tongue. The silken blond curls that had coiled around his finger, still managed an invisible caress.
Obsessed. Damn, that was it. Perfect word. He had to rid himself of this obsession. A second gulp of water caused a small ice cube to lodge sideways in his throat. Pain and discomfort worked wonders to quell primitive instincts.
The myriad of expressions that crossed Adam’s face caused Samantha to adjust her glasses, frown, and then blush. “Tell me about your week in New York?” Her words tumbled over each other.
Adam cleared his throat. “We’re working on a color catalogue for the art institute. For the next six months they’ll be featuring a variety of European master paintings and sculptures in a cultural exchange program.”
“That sounds like an interesting project.”
“Actually,” Adam told her seriously, “it can be a big headache. The paintings haven’t arrived yet to be photographed, the institute committee can’t get together on the typeface or layout, everything will get down to the deadline and we’ll all pray it falls into place.” He grinned. “Luckily, my vice-president, Brett Townshend, is in charge. He’s already cornered the market on antacid tablets.”
She laughed. “And you don’t have to get involved in any of this?”
“I’m scheduled to attend a round of cocktail parties and charity dinners, but I’m hoping Brett can take more of them as well.” Adam remarked with a shrug of his broad shoulders. “How was your week?”
“The usual stuff,” she told him. “Busy at the office and studying for exams. I did have a nice lunch with Katherine on Tuesday.”
“Hal is very relaxed and said everything’s under control for the wedding tomorrow.”
“I think Janine has focused her attention on the retirement dinner next week. That’s helped.” Samantha passed on any more coffee but laughingly fought fork to fork with Adam over their shared sinfully rich death-by-chocolate dessert.
“Well, you have to admit that almost equaled your ice cream choice.” He watched her lips form an adorable pucker, but there was a glint in her eyes that the lenses couldn’t conceal. “What?”
“Alas, Valley Forge Fudge has been replaced by,” she gave an exaggerated shudder, “mashed potatoes and gravy. I hate to admit this, but it wasn’t bad. I had a sample.” She giggled at his expression and then leaned against the back of the chair.
This was nice. The more time she spent with Adam, the more relaxed she felt. Okay, maybe relaxed wasn’t quite the right word. There was more than a twinge of arousal. But she could dampen that. Yup, she could. Not a problem. No problem at all.
“This is why I stick with boring vanilla.” He desperately wanted to kiss her. To tease those full lips open with his tongue and… His brain skidded to a halt; he bit the inside of his cheek. Get a grip, you’re not sixteen. Another thought invaded. “If you’re not too tired, why don’t we adjourn to the lounge and dance?” At least that way, he could hold her in his arms.
“I’d like that very much.” Samantha gave an inward smile. No more tension. No more silly hormonal reactions. Not a thing. Liar!
The Cavern Lounge gave one the feeling of being transported to the center of the earth. Samantha unhesitatingly slid her hand into Adam’s, rapidly b
linking her eyes as they tried to adjust to the unique lighting effects. Icicle-shaped stalactites hung from the ceiling while midget stalagmites formed the tables that ringed the crowded dance floor. The patrons were enjoying the slow, romantic ballads that the band was serving.
Samantha was so intrigued with the unusual decor, especially the cascading waterfall that was tucked in a nearby corner that she stumbled against Adam’s broad frame when he stopped suddenly at one of the occupied tables. Her heart sank when she saw that the occupants were none other than Janine Griffen and her companion of the moment, who Samantha knew to be Andrew Carver, a very successful investment banker.
When Andrew issued an invitation to join them, Samantha knew it would be unconscionably rude if they refused. She felt Adam squeeze her hand in a silent shared feeling and she favored him with a half-smile while they slid into the extra chairs. After all the introductions had been completed and four brandies ordered, Janine cunningly took control of the conversation, seemingly oblivious to the musical accompaniment that punctuated her every word.
“Adam, weren’t you in Monte Carlo earlier this year visiting your mother?” Janine inquired, her voice a seductive purr as she ran a long, a blood-red fingernail, dotted by a diamond, down the arm of his jacket.
“As a matter of fact I was,” Adam answered politely, moving his arm to facilitate the waitress returning with the amber-filled snifters.
“Andrew is planning a trip there in a few months and it’s been over a year since I’ve been there. I was having difficulty remembering a few of the places he must see. What would you suggest?”
Samantha tried to pretend an interest in the conversation which had quickly escalated into a discussion any travel agent would have loved. Janine’s memory had made an amazing recovery. She launched into listing all the “in” people and places for Andrew. Didn’t Adam just love this one’s villa and that one’s yacht; which restaurants would he recommend and what hotel.
Then came an endless list of royalty that dribbled from Janine’s scarlet lips. Counts and countesses. Lords and ladies. No, no, make that sirs and ladies, Samantha mentally corrected. I really need to read more historical novels. Maybe there’s some sort of royal lineage tree. Janine suddenly tossed out a few kings’ and queens’ names. Was there really that much royalty out there? Maybe I should start watching that Wealth TV cable channel. Samantha made a mental note and then quickly deleted it. She doubted she’d run into any royalty at the local mall.
Her attention wandered toward the crowded dance floor. The band was fabulous and she was more than a little envious of the couples who were enjoying it. Apparently it just wasn’t in the cards for her to be drifting in Adam’s arms in time to the romantic music. Reluctantly, she dragged her gaze off the band and decided to make an independent study of the flickering candles that adorned the tables.
She had counted twelve red and fourteen amber chimney shades when Janine’s voice stabbed through her musings with another list of princes and princesses. Samantha was positive a couple of them matched up with the newest fairy tale cartoon movie. A duchess and a duke were trotted out.
Hmm…duke…a melody exploded in her brain: Duke of Earl was a constant on the oldie’s station her kitchen radio was tuned to. Duke…duke…duke…duke of earl…the toe of her pumps tapped out the two-four beat while the refrain vibrated in her head.
She wasn’t sure why everyone complained about her singing, she sounded great in the shower. Her humming certainly sounded perfectly in tune. Her fingers were playing an imaginary piano on the edge of the white tablecloth, when Janine’s sweetly sarcastic voice interrupted like fingernails on a chalkboard.
“Poor Samantha, we seem to be boring her with our discussion.”
“Not at all.” She blinked everyone into focus, although Adam seemed to be staring at her oddly. “Since I’ve never been to Monaco, I really don’t have anything intelligent to contribute on the subject.”
“Why don’t you tell us where you do go on your vacations?” Janine persisted, her eyes full of malicious intent.
“I’m afraid my vacations have been few and far between,” she laughed lightly, trying to cover the sudden feeling of inadequacy that engulfed her. She thought about mentioning her dive trip but that would probably set Janine off in another direction and she still wasn’t sure if she could afford it.
“How boring!” Janine commented rudely. “Maybe one day you’ll be able to save your pennies and go to Monte Carlo, too.”
Normally, Samantha wasn’t a catty person and during the past year she had become quite adept at deflecting Janine’s malicious remarks. Tonight, however, her patience was rapidly slipping. She felt strangely vulnerable and adopted a defensive attitude that led her to reply in kind to Janine’s venomous comment. “I’m just surprised you didn’t go when your invitation arrived.”
“Invitation? What invitation?” Janine echoed in confusion.
“My goodness, with the list of royalty you just rattled off, weren’t you invited to at least one of the royal weddings that took place there?” Her innocent tone left Janine stuttering for a suitable reply, Andrew choking on a mouthful of brandy and Adam trying unsuccessfully to disguise a broad grin.
Swiftly, he rose from his seat, grabbed Samantha’s arm and pushed her toward the dance floor. “Excuse us; they’re playing one of our favorite songs.”
“That wasn’t very nice of me, was it?”
“No, it wasn’t,” he agreed cheerfully.
She peeped at him over the top of her eyeglasses. “I’ll…I’ll apologize, after all tomorrow is the wedding and…”
“Don’t you dare! I’m not allowing you to throw yourself into volcano Janine.” Effortlessly, he pulled her tight against him, smiling when her soft sigh invaded his ear. This was what he had been craving. Certainly not in such a public place; and definitely not with their table companions. And, he rationalized, holding her hadn’t alleviated his wants. In fact, he bit the inside of his cheek again; it really hadn’t helped at all.
Samantha was unprepared for Janine’s deceptively sweet expression and tone, when she and Adam returned to the table. “I’m sure you two gentlemen will excuse us while we powder our noses,” Janine cooed.
Samantha gave Adam a weak smile and reluctantly followed Janine’s elegantly clad figure across the crowded room to the ladies’ lounge. Well, she had drunk way too much coffee, so she headed into the lavatory area. At least it would kill time. She washed her hands and used a dollop of scented lotion before taking a deep, bracing breath. Janine’s nose wasn’t that big, surely it was powdered by now. She returned to the outer vanity area.
Samantha checked her makeup and was pleased to see her new twelve hour lipstick still shimmered. Then she pretended an extreme interest in the gold foil covering the walls, while Janine peered intently at her reflection in the large ornate mirror that lined one wall.
When the room’s other two occupants left, Janine turned on Samantha with cruel intent. “Apparently my father was very persuasive in convincing Adam to take you out this evening.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I was at the office tonight when Adam stopped by.” She gave a sly, meaningful laugh, letting the rest of the sentence hang unfinished.
Samantha experienced a sudden chill, but her voice sounded calm. “Adam doesn’t seem to be the type to spend time with someone who doesn’t interest him.”
Janine arched a dark, penciled brow. “Samantha, oh my dear, you don’t honestly believe all this attention he’s paying you means anything. He’s just doing my father a favor, that’s all.
“I mean, look at yourself. That outfit, where’s it from, one of the discount stores? And those glasses? Please! Retro is on its way out. Try contacts. Sweetie, really, do you not see yourself in the mirror? You are so…provincial.” Janine adjusted the feathered skirt that wrapped around the sequined tank that clung provocatively to her petite figure. “It must be apparent, even to you, that a man of Adam’s i
ntelligence, power, and wealth would never allow himself to become even temporarily involved with the likes of you.”
She was use to Janine and her nasty comments about her wardrobe. Her navy suede suit had actually been purchased at a boutique Janine frequented. Granted, it was a designer’s last season, a mark-down that fit her budget and her curves perfectly. The eyeglass frames were new and made her look like she was playing at wearing glasses rather than actually needing them. The optical shop had taken a photo of her to post on their website. She was happy with her look.
But then came that comment about the judge pushing Adam. Samantha had said the same to Katherine. That scenario had been on the back of her mind since last week. Inhaling a deep breath, Sam counted to ten, and pushed the spiteful attack, which had triggered her own fears, out of her mind. Katherine had warned her to be on guard.
“Well, maybe you do interest him in a certain fashion,” Janine continued slyly. “After all, Adam has a normal male appetite. I suppose even you would do. But, watch out, Samantha, you tried to honey-trap my father and failed. Adam won’t fall for your devices either.”
Honey trap! Damn! Was Adam thinking that, too? Samantha swallowed a primitive urge to slap her. “Janine, this conversation seems rather pointless.” She pushed her way out the door, quickly removing herself from any further invidious remarks. Shaky fingers rubbed her throbbing forehead, she inhaled and a held a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. She was going to leave. Hell, if she hadn’t left her purse on the table, she’d be walking out of the restaurant right now – proprieties be damned! Of course, she had to first find the restaurant’s front door and her purse.
Wanting to escape the laughing, chattering patrons who were waiting in line for tables or pressing toward the bar, Samantha crisscrossed through the crowd trying to get her bearings. The restaurant décor was confusing; one stalagmite looked like a stalactite. The candlelit tables…needed more candles. Samantha discovered she had zagged when she should have zigged. She wasn’t near the dance floor, but had been pushed into the densely populated bar queue where she tried to avoid the gesturing arms that held drinks.
