by Cathryn Fox
“He can’t help it,” the judge gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Have you made any plans?”
Samantha shook her head. It was the one thing uppermost in her mind. She had a hundred questions and only Adam had the power to answer them.
“Don’t worry about it,” he told her cheerfully, seeing the indecision in her eyes. “I’m sure once all this social whirlwind is over, you two will have a chance to get yourselves sorted out.” The music ended, but before the judge had a chance to walk her back to her table, Samantha was claimed for another dance. She continued to make the rounds of the dance floor with a variety of illustrious partners, including her law professor and, of course, the SEAL team. Every so often she would catch a glimpse of Adam’s tall, immaculate figure through the crowd with a host of eager duty partners.
Samantha had found an unobtrusive corner and was enjoying a cool drink, when she felt a possessive hand slide down her bare spine and a deep, familiar voice whisper in her ears. “I think the rest of the evening is definitely mine.” She found herself in Adam’s arms and whirled out on the dance floor, with her drink still clutched in her hand.
“I see you’ve been very well attended to,” he commented wryly. Plucking the glass from its precarious position, he placed it on a nearby table. “I saw Judge Baylor’s hand heading for your gorgeous ass.”
She laughed at his angry growl. “Yes, but Freddie cut in –”
“Followed by the rest of the fleet and the mayor and the district attorney and –”
Her lashes fluttered. “I told you I have friends in both low and high places. I got quite a few interesting offers tonight,” she teased, “some were even for jobs.”
“I hope you told them you were committed elsewhere,” he tightened his hold on her as they moved among the other dancers.
“I enjoyed your speech. In fact they were all very clever and not the usual barbed comments.”
“I wish you’d been sitting by my side,” Adam murmured, his lips caressing her cheek.
“Well, you’ve got to give Janine credit, she’s still in there pitching.”
“I think I’ve finally managed to convince her that she’s struck out,” came his blunt reply.
They were the last to say final farewells to the judge and Katherine. Samantha found she was unable to control the tears that trickled down her cheeks as she kissed them both goodbye. Janine favored her with a barely civil nod, when they met at the cloakroom to collect their wraps.
Mother Nature made all the departing guests groan in disgust. The unpleasant early evening drizzle had turned into a slanting, driving rain that left the parking lot full of lake-like puddles. Gone was the red carpet and the staff with protective umbrellas. The high winds had ripped apart the awning extension, leaving it to slam and twist in the air. Retrieving his keys from the security guard once he learned the valet service had shut down; Adam went in search of his car. The key alarm and flashing headlights sent him to the farthest parking lot. Ten minutes later, when he returned to the entrance, Samantha had no other recourse but to step squarely into a deep puddle as she slid into the front bucket seat.
Hair dripping, the soaked evening cape plastered against her body by the shoulder harness, she grimaced in disgust at her muddy, sodden shoes. She was sure the delicate silver pumps would dissolve. “I suppose we should be happy it’s not cold enough to snow.” Taking a tissue from her pocket to wipe off her glasses, Samantha unhooked her earrings, hoping to eliminate another dripping water source. Her shaky hand touched his saturated coat sleeve. “You’re drenched!”
“That makes two of us, honey,” he grinned ruefully, switching the wipers to a higher speed and pressing on the defrosters. “Look, the place I’m staying at is quite close; we can both dry out before pneumonia sets in.”
“Sounds perfect, can you turn up the heat, please,” Samantha realized her teeth were actually chattering.
Adam negotiated a U-turn and in less than ten minutes was turning into the driveway of an elegant condo community. The garage door opened automatically when he pressed the in-car remote, giving them an instant reprieve from the lashing rain. “Come on, the garage is heated and probably warmer than the car.” Pulling open her door, he quickly caught her when the heels on both her shoes twisted and separated from the sole. “Are you okay?”
She kicked off the broken sandals and exhaled a long sigh. “I’m afraid to look at my dress; this damn cape is heavy with rain.” Samantha looked up and smiled at Adam. “We are quite the mess!”
“You’re a beautiful mess.” Unhooking her cape, he winced at the water stains visible on the midnight silk. “Maybe a good dry cleaner…” his voice trailed off as he hung the sodden cloak on a nearby hook.
“Your tux is in worse shape.” Samantha helped peel the jacket off his broad shoulders when the wool fabric seemed to have molded to his body. She watched him add the coat to the wall hooks and slip off his saturated dress shoes.
“The hell with the clothes, we’re both freezing.” Adam pressed a code into the door. “Come on, I know a quick way to warm us both up.” He led her into the kitchen. “I’d better explain something to you about this apartment.”
“If you are trying to prepare me for a mess—”
“There’s no mess. The cleaning woman still comes once a week to feed the plants and water the fish.”
Samantha laughed. “I think you’ve got that backwards.”
“You haven’t seen the plants or the fish,” Adam cautioned dryly.
“Well, the kitchen looks perfectly normal,” she announced, running her hand across the black granite island and noting the stainless steel appliances that shimmered under the recessed ceiling lights. “Wow, this is a chef’s dream. Love the cherry cabinets…what’s this built into the backsplash—”
“Don’t touch that!” Adam grabbed her hand. “You think your house is rigged. Everything looks perfectly normal around here, but Peter Chalmers, the guy who owns this place, is an inventor as well as an author. You’d be surprised what pressing the wrong button can do.” Adam cautioned, and to make his point he managed to turn on all the living room lights and start the gas fireplace by waving his hand over a metal plate that was recessed into the wall.
Samantha gasped, not only at the electronic wizardry, but at the room itself. The kitchen opened into a chrome and glass dining area, from which five steps led down to a sunken living room. Tall potted plants and vines created a jungle. Imbedded in the far wall, was the ocean. A salt-water aquarium, its colorfully large inhabitants were swimming sedately through a variety of interesting rock and coral formations. A huge cream-colored conversation pit completely surrounded a free-standing fireplace of glass rocks, with a wide brick hearth that served as a coffee table. The whole effect was one of exotic, primitive luxury.
“This is…well I wish my sister could see it,” Samantha tried to commit every inch to memory. “I could do an ocean dive in that aquarium…oh…wait! Is that a moray eel peeking out of the coral?”
“Yes, he’s got some dangerous fish and a few of the plants scare me, one has teeth.” While his shuddering was highly exaggerated, Samantha’s was not. She was shaking, her arms wrapped around her middle. “Come on, honey, we’re both frozen to the bone. Let’s hit the car wash.”
“Car wash?” She echoed, following him into the large master bedroom. Whenever they took a step, soft baseboard lights shown like run-way markers to guide them. “Wow, another fireplace,” she moved to stand in front of the heat, shivering against the warmth. Her eyes widened behind her lenses, taking in the rest of the large room. “A round bed!” The huge circle, covered with pillows and angled by a leather headboard that went up the ten foot ceiling, commanded her full attention. “Does it do anything?”
Adam winked at her. “Depends on who’s in it!” He was bare chested, his damp shirt tossed on the large wooden valet. “Come here, let me get that wet gown off.” Her skin was icy cold against his fingers. He tugged down the zipper and pulled
the wet stained silk over her head. “Christ, I must be frozen because here you are naked except for those adorable black lace panties and…phftt.”
Samantha couldn’t help but laugh, watching him toss aside his slacks and boxers. “I think one of the Seinfeld episodes called it shrinkage.” But her laughter turned into another round of shivering as she stepped out of her lacy boy shorts. “Where is this car wash that’s supposed to heat us up?”
His finger crooked to beckon her into the bathroom. “This is every man’s fantasy,” he slanted a wicked glance, “at least shower-wise.” Adam pressed an assortment of commands in the blue touch-screen on the wall. “Okay…first heat lamps, next we’re getting a waterfall, side water massage tiles; I’m adjusting both to gentle jets, all at the perfect temperature of one hundred two degrees. There’s a water saver system, so the pump re-circulates. Soft pink lighting. A light but lengthy steam. Music—”
“Music! I love to sing in the shower and honestly I don’t sound too bad.”
His thumb hit the screen. “Music off.” His index finger tapped her wrinkled nose before gently taking off her glasses and placing them on the massive quartz countertop with his watch. “After you,” Adam pulled the massive tempered, etched-glass vertical spa door open.
The instant she stepped inside, Samantha found herself in a wonderfully warm rain shower with ten water jets gently massaging her body. The icy cold that permeated her bones disappeared. A long sigh escaped her. “You were right, this is perfect.” She turned slightly, letting her spine be the recipient of the wonderful hydro-streams. Wide cylinders of water dispersed across her shoulders and down the center of her back, stimulating the vital energy acupressure points yet providing relaxation at the same time.
“Fruit or spice?”
“Hmmm?”
“Shampoo.”
“Fruit,” her shrug was careless, her body just about ready to dissolve down the drain from the delicious Swedish-style kneading the jets were providing. Samantha felt Adam’s fingers along with the fragrant scent of oranges.
He tempered his strength, gently massaging the shampoo into her hair. The sweet, tangy fragrance proved a potent tease to his heightened senses. His watched streams of iridescent bubbles slowly caress a path down her neck over the swells of her breasts to shimmer around pink nipples.
Carefully, he pulled her head back, his hands channeling the rinsing water to protect her eyes and face. His calloused fingers gently followed the same path as the shampoo. He watched, in rapt fascination, how easily aroused she became when his hands replaced the trail of bubbles. Her flat, sleeping nipples quickly turned into hard, responsive nubs. Picture-perfect memories formed with each touch. The taste of her full breasts: sweet and salty. How she pulsed wildly around his cock when he sucked her nipples. Her throaty little moans and the haywire shudders he felt when his finger teased her clit. He was suffering from sensory overload, and if he kept this up, he’d explode. But there was no way in hell he could stop.
She was wetter inside than out. Hot. Wet. Wanting. Needing. Through half-closed eyes Samantha watched his hands. The erotic path they sculpted around both breasts. The way his thumbs circled her hard nipples while his fingers stroked underneath. His right arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her body back against his. Her cheek rested on his shoulder, her lips whispered into his ear. “I’m feeling that shrinkage is no longer a problem.” Her teeth gave a gentle tug on his earlobe as his chest reverberated with laughter.
“Noticed that did you?” He turned her around, needing to feel her lips against his. Needing to taste her essence. Needing for two to become one.
The hydro-jets relinquished control to the light, warm steam that circulated inside the vertical spa. Holding her close, Adam settled on one of the side benches. He picked her up, settled her on his lap, facing him. Her legs instantly wrapped around his waist. He reached down, opened her up, and slid his cock into her. She was wet enough to sheath him. Her arms twined around his neck, her cheek resting against his collarbone, his cock buried deep inside her. She shifted slightly.
He looked down her strong, sleek back, the pennant of blond hair already curling against her shoulders from the steam. Her skin glowed pink from the heat and the lights. His hands moved gently up and down her spine before settling in the indent of her waist, her buttocks were balanced on his thighs. “You okay?”
“Hmmm…” she nipped his earlobe again, sighing when his cock surged inside her. Her right palm caressed a path down his neck, across the tense muscles of his broad chest to flatten against his heart. She could feel the thundering beat beneath her hand in unison with her own. He was all there was. All she needed.
He lifted her hips and slid in and out. Slowly. Testing. Her body was pliant against his, her mouth moving eagerly under his as he swallowed her low moan and felt her shudder. That was all it took. His response was fierce. Profound. The intense need for her consumed him. The friction he created was strong enough to cause a fire. Raw power merged two into one. And yet he wanted more. Maybe a hundred years of more.
It was the distinct pealing of chimes that caused Samantha’s eyes to flutter open. Westminster chimes. Her head moved against the pillow, her brain focusing. There they were again. One. Two. Three. Four. Then the refrain. She didn’t remember seeing a grandfather clock amid the jungle and giant fish in the living room. But this sounded closer and continuous. She gently shook Adam’s shoulder to wake him. “I hear bells.”
“Better late than never.” He murmured against the corner of her mouth, his arms tightening around her waist.
“No.” Her hand pushed against his bare chest. “Listen, what is that?”
“That is my damn cellphone,” he grumbled, raking a hand through his dark hair. Rolling off her, he pulled open the drawer of the side table and swiped the phone on. “Ted, what the hell is so important that it couldn’t wait until daylight?” Adam inquired brusquely of his public relations man.
“Meg just called, Brett’s in the hospital,” Ted explained. “That persistent heartburn turned out to be a bleeding ulcer.”
“My God,” Adam sat up. “Status report.”
“They are trying to stabilize him enough to operate. Meg said the doctor thinks the ulcer has perforated his stomach. I thought you’d want to know.”
“Damn right!” He repeated the conversation to Samantha.
“I’m sorry,” came Ted’s embarrassed response. “I didn’t realize you weren’t alone.”
“Don’t worry about it. Hang on a second.” He turned to her. “I need to get to the city.”
“Of course, I gather Brett is more than just a business associate.”
“Childhood friends, we joined the marines together. As a matter of fact, I’m godfather to his twin sons.” He turned back to the phone. “Ted, call Mike Reynolds, I had him ship something to the ranch yesterday and see—”
“Already did,” Ted interrupted. “His jet is back in Albany; the pilot is heading there even as we speak. I also phoned that limo service you use, a car should be at your place in twenty minutes.”
“Good job. Pick me up at the airport and we’ll head to the hospital. See if Meg needs anything, I know her parents are right there.” Tapping the phone off, he pushed back the bedcovers and started dressing. “Damn, Brett comes home unscathed from Iraq and gets felled by an ulcer…” he kept shaking his head. “I’d be funny if it wasn’t so serious. I should have pushed him, fuck, I should have driven him to the doctors…”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Samantha commiserated, “most of the time, indigestion is nothing that serious. A bleeding ulcer takes a long time to form.”
She heard the buzz of his electric shaver coming from the bathroom and suddenly realized that she was stranded with no way to get home and no clothes. “Do you have a pair of sweats or something I can wear? I’ll call Nancy when the world wakes up to come and get me…” Samantha frowned. “It was so dark last night, I’m not exactly sure where I am.”
&n
bsp; “Drive the Jag home.” Rummaging in a drawer, he tossed her black fleece pants, a crimson Harvard hoody and a pair of athletic socks. “Here,” Adam handed her a set of keys. “Just go out through the kitchen, don’t touch anything,” he cautioned, “stay away from the plants and the fish.” He slipped on a tan sports jacket and pulled his trench coat from the closet. Adam tapped the weather app. “Wait until it gets light, it’s supposed to be partly cloudy but a lot warmer. I don’t want you on the road now.”
Holstering the phone, he walked back to the bed and stared at her. While her hair was in that curly, erotic tumble he loved, her glasses gave her a more studious look. Sexy librarian. Smiling, his knuckles caressed the soft skin of her cheek. “Go back to sleep, we didn’t get much last night. Of course, all problems could be solved if you come with me. When the stores open, I’ll get you clothes and shoes and…”
Samantha slowly shook her head. “I can’t at least for the next two weeks. I’ve got too much on my plate, what with packing the office and final exams.”
“Would you come with me if you could?”
Her arms looped around his neck, his face so close to her own. When the sheet shimmied down to her waist, she watched his eyes darken and saw the muscle twitch over his cheekbone. It suddenly came to her that if someone asks a question it’s because someone wants an answer. An honest answer. “Of course, I would. I love you, Adam.” Her lips spoke soft against his.
His mouth still fastened on hers, he pulled her up to her knees, holding her body tight against him. Her naked breasts rubbed against the soft cashmere jacket that surrounded her flesh in an erotic embrace. “I don’t want to leave you. I’m not sure I can leave you.” His words groaned into her mouth. Then the chimes played again. “The damn car’s here,” his forehead leaned against hers. “I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.” Adam kissed her hard on the mouth and was gone before she had a chance to say goodbye.
Chapter Twelve
