“I’m fine.”
Her shirt continued to be the main beneficiary of Portia’s homemade chicken soup, but Adam knew the more he hassled her, the more hard-headed she’d act, so he didn’t say anything else. “Have Ruby and Ossie been in to see you today?” More soup dribbled down her shirt, and an amused Adam stayed silent.
“They dropped by earlier.” Then her green eyes lifted to his. “You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?”
“Who me? Nope.”
She grinned. “Liar.” Then she said, “That’s one of the things I like about you, though.”
“What?”
“That you let me be me, even when I’m being stubborn.”
“No sense in arguing with a woman who knows her own mind.”
“And you have never tried to compete with me. That’s usually the first thing most men I’m around want to do—show me how manly they are.”
“Nothing to compete with you about. I’m bigger, stronger, faster.”
“Hey, wait a minute.”
“I am. You’re badder, of course—without a doubt—but in my world, being a badass won’t get you a Nobel, so I’ve no interest in outtoughing you.”
Max asked, “You really think you’re faster than me?”
He nodded. “And stronger. I’m a man, Max. It’s in the physiology.”
“When I get well, we’ll see.”
He chuckled, “Okay. Now, when I beat you, what do I get?”
“When I beat you, what do I get?”
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?”
She nodded. “Yeah, Mr. Jesse Owens Gary.”
“I ran track in college. My time for the 220 is third best in school history.”
Max tossed back, “That was what, fifty years ago?”
“You’re wrong girl. Wrong.”
They were both laughing and enjoying each other’s company, then Max said seriously, “I miss hanging out with you.”
“Miss you, too. Thanks for not dying on me.”
“You’re welcome. Would you do me a favor?”
“Whatever you want.”
“Would you feed me this damn soup. I’m so hungry I could eat the bowl.”
He threw back his head and his laughter filled the room. He then picked up the spoon and helped her out.
By day six Max was allowed to leave the room, but only in a wheelchair and only for twenty minutes at a time. The doctor was pleased with the healing. She worried about a setback if Max tried to do too much, though, so Adam became the designated keeper.
The first time he wheeled her out into the hallway she was immediately mobbed by the dogs. They were jumping and barking and prancing around as if it was the happiest day of their canine lives. Max’s returning kisses, scratches, and hugs added to the chaos. Her jubilance equaled theirs.
Adam said, “We only have twenty minutes, you all. How about we take this celebration outside.”
Ruby, who’d managed to work herself onto Max’s lap, barked happily. The tickled Adam pushed the now heavier chair forward.
Max couldn’t believe how wonderful it felt to be outside with the sun and the breeze on her face. Because of the uneven ground, the wheelchair couldn’t go any farther than the edge of the patio, but she didn’t care. She could hear the birds, see the clouds, and smell the nose-twitching scent of the fresh manure Portia used as fertilizer on the hundreds of acres of farmland. Being out of the sickroom easily outweighed the stink, so Max didn’t let that spoil her mood either. “Thank you,” she said, looking up at the handsome Dr. Gary. To her, he was just as gorgeous as the June day.
“You’re welcome.”
Ruby and Ossie were chasing each other around the trees. The squirrels and birds, apparently accustomed to the presence and antics of their canine siblings, Jesse and James, didn’t pay them any attention. Max, however, enjoyed watching them acting like the dogs they were. Sometimes the job didn’t allow them much freedom or fun, but being here and at home in Texas always seemed to reenergize them.
Adam could see the happiness in her face and it made him happy as well. “So, how’s this?” In his mind the fates had provided the perfect day for her breakout from the Big House.
“You’re going to need a whip and a chair to get me back inside.” Her eyes were bright with humor as they met his.
“I was afraid of that.”
The look they shared became so prolonged, the humor faded and neither seemed able to break the contact. They fed themselves on the sight of each other. It had been a while since they’d been intimate, but what they were feeling at that moment wasn’t lust. As Adam noted, the connection pulling at them was different, stronger, wondrous.
He had to lean low to touch his lips to hers, but he didn’t complain; neither did she. The sweet richness of the kiss obliterated all.
Max cupped his cheek with her left hand. Caressing the soft hair there, she leaned up so they could better enjoy the coaxing, teasing, and nibbling. She felt as if an eternity had passed since they’d been alone and could be with each other this way. Her breathing increased and so did his. The embers of their previous encounter had never been fully extinguished, and as passion began to warm their blood, the sparks glowed, then caught, making the lovers deepen the kiss.
Adam squatted to decrease the distance between them and bring their bodies closer. Moving his kisses to the hollow of her throat, he ran his hand over her mouth, her jaw, and the trembling skin above the lacy border of the thin green nightgown she had on beneath the matching terry robe. He knew she was in no condition to be loved the way he wanted to make love to her; fully, totally, and scandalously, but it didn’t stop him from enjoying the scents of her skin or the soft moan she let out when he cupped her breast.
“Ahem!”
They both jumped.
Dr. Lorenz walked into view. “Your twenty minutes are up, madam.”
Max stuck out her lip like a sulking child and Adam did the same.
Laughing, the doctor said, “You two are too much. Take her back inside, Dr. Gary.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
So Adam pushed Max back to her room, then helped her into the bed, all under the watchful eye of Dr. Lorenz.
In bed now, Max said to her, “You ruined a perfectly good kiss.”
She chuckled. “For now, that is my job.”
“Well, you’re too good at it,” Max mockingly groused.
She exited the room but not before calling out, “Five minutes, Dr. Gary.”
All he could do was shake his head.
When they were alone again, he said, “She’s tough.”
“As a Marine drill sergeant.”
Adam sat down on the edge of the bed. He leaned over and kissed her gently. “I owe you for that kisses interruptus,” he whispered.
She said sassily, “I love it when you talk dirty.”
Adam had never met a woman like her before in his life. “You are so outrageous.”
“But you enjoy it.”
His voice softened. “Yes. Yes, I do.” He stroked a lingering finger down her cheek. “Rest up. I’ll come back and break you out again later.”
In the bed and supported by the pillows, Max could feel herself drifting away and thought maybe she wasn’t as ready to rock and roll as she’d led herself to believe. “Promise?”
He slowly crossed his heart. “Cross my heart.”
“Good,” she whispered, pleased. “I’m going to sleep now.”
He kissed her forehead. “Sweet dreams.”
And they were sweet because she dreamed of a tender caring man named Adam.
That evening, Portia told Adam that the Bureau had captured Pearl’s rumpled companion Vlad Oskar at a small airport near Miami. He’d been busted trying to jack a private plane and was held by the local police until the agents arrived. At the preliminary court hearing, the federal prosecutor had little trouble convincing the presiding judge that the man was a flight risk, so his passport was confiscated and he was remanded without
bond to the Dade County jail.
“Good,” Max said when Adam relayed the news to her later on. They were outside enjoying the peacefulness of the night. Max was in her wheelchair and he was seated in a lawn chair beside her.
“Now that you’re technically done guarding me, what’s next?”
Her shrug made the stitches in her shoulder pull and she winced silently. “Don’t know. Home to Texas for sure, but afterward? Probably sniff out another job.”
He went quiet.
Max asked him, “That bothers you, doesn’t it?”
He looked her way. “I can’t lie.”
“This is what I do.”
“And it almost got you killed. What if there’s nobody around next time to drive you? What if you get shot in the gut? Suppose it’s your heart?”
Max reached over and placed her hand on top of his. They were destined to have this conversation, she supposed, but at what cost? When he linked his fingers with hers, the emotions that flooded her were so strong they tightened her throat.
He said to her, “Max, I’m not a super hero or an international spy—none of that. I’m just a regular everyday brother who has a thing for a remarkable woman he’d like to see grow. Watching you get shot almost killed me. Then, because you have this secret life, I couldn’t even take you to the E.R.”
Max closed her eyes and tried to delude herself into believing that the pain emanated from her shoulder wound and not her heart.
He told her, “If you and I aren’t on the same page, fine. I’ll slink off into the sunset and we can stop this conversation right here, but I have to tell you how I feel.”
“And I appreciate it,” she said. “And just so you know, I do care for you, Adam. A lot. I’d like this thing between us to grow, too. But.”
“You’re not going to change what you do.”
She shook her head in the dark. “No.”
He shrugged. “Then I’ll have to respect that, even if I don’t like it.”
When he gently withdrew his fingers from hers, she knew their time together was coming to an end, and all the tender brightness he’d brought into her life began withering inside her like a dying rose.
Over the next few days, Dr. Lorenz gave Max five-pound hand weights to lift so that the muscles in her shoulder and upper back would regain their strength, flexibility, and tone. Adam was no less caring or concerned, and he and Max were able to enjoy each other’s company, but things had changed between them and they both knew it.
One evening at dinner, Adam announced that he was going back to Michigan and his work. Now that the prototype was safe, he had no reason to hang around. “I talked to the NASA people this afternoon and they want me to come down and supervise some tests on the prototype. They’re thinking it might help power some of their interplanetary probes.”
Portia said, “Sounds promising. I can take care of your flight arrangements home if you’d like.”
“That’d be great.” Adam planned to attend the President’s dinner in the fall, but frankly, all he wanted to do now was go home and lick his wounds.
Portia said, “I’ve enjoyed your company, Adam.”
“And I’ve had a good time. Thanks for the hospitality.”
He looked over at Max, who met his eyes and said, “Have a safe trip home.”
“I will.”
Max was able to walk under her own power now, and she stood and left Portia and Adam at the table.
Portia didn’t say anything for a moment, but seeing Adam’s tight jaw and the distance in his eyes, she finally offered, “You can’t turn a lioness into a house cat.”
“I know. That’s why I need to go back to my life.”
“I’m sorry, Adam,” Portia replied, her voice sad.
“So am I.”
Then he left the table to gather up his meager belongings in preparation for the morning flight back to Michigan.
Max looked up at the moon and wondered what was wrong with her. After her second divorce, she’d never allowed a man to give her the blues. Over the years, she’d had trysts with matadors, race car drivers, and even a few European captains of industry, and once the flames burned out with each of them, they’d said Ciao and parted with no regrets. All were men of action drawn to her strength and drive the same way she’d been drawn to theirs. But what she felt in response to Adam’s leaving was new, and scary as hell. Why him? she asked herself for what seemed like the umpteenth time. What was it about Adam that was tearing her up this way? Why did the prospect of maybe never seeing him again leave her so depressed? She ran her hands through her short hair, confused, frustrated, and angry that a mild-mannered but very sexy lab scientist, of all people, would have the audacity to ask that she take a look at changing her life.
She was realistic enough to know that she couldn’t run around playing Storm until she was old and gray. She’d readily admit to not being as physically sharp as she’d been a decade ago. Skills eroded, reflexes slowed, and eventually people like her had to find other employment in order to keep themselves, their colleagues, and their missions out of harm’s way. So her question became, was she mad at him for wanting her to change her life, or was she just mad, period, because she knew he was right? Truthfully, she was scared to look at the answer, and because she wouldn’t know what to do with the answer even if she had one, Max chose not to deal with it at all, at least for now. Instead, she looked up at the moon and hoped the misery would eventually subside.
It didn’t. When she woke up the following morning, she was just as blue as she’d been going to bed.
Breakfast was a forced affair.
When she came into the kitchen, he and Portia were already there. Good mornings were exchanged. Max looked at him. Adam looked back. Max sat.
Portia said, “Adam and I have been talking about collaborating on some future projects.”
Max forced a smile. “That sounds exciting.” She glanced over at him and found him watching her. Whatever he was feeling was hidden deep beneath that unreadable mask. “Looks like a good day to fly,” she said, needing to break the lengthening silence. Unlike her mood, it was sunny and bright outside.
“Yeah, it does,” he replied.
Neither had anything to say after that.
When it was time for him to go, she pasted on her false smile and walked with him out to the cab waiting to take him to the airport. The dogs trotting alongside were subdued and silent. They seemed to have picked up on the fact that he was leaving and had followed him around all morning.
Adam opened the cab door and tossed his duffel inside. He then looked down at the woman he wanted to share life with but couldn’t. “Thanks for everything.”
“No problem.”
Both felt the words that could be said, but Adam thought it best if they made this parting short. “Call me sometime and let me know how you’re doing.”
“I’ll do that. You do the same.”
They both knew they wouldn’t unless one or the other relented.
Adam wanted to kiss her, hold her, feel her heart beating against his own, but he didn’t. If he touched her, he’d shatter, so he said, “Take it easy, Max.”
“You, too.”
He gave the dogs an emotion-filled scratch across their backs. Ruby whined and Ossie began to bark. Adam took a deep breath, got into the cab and closed the door.
As the cab drove off and took Adam Gary out of Max Blake’s life, she stood in the driveway watching, but he didn’t look back.
Adam took a cab home from the airport and was surprised by the yellow police tape over the opening in the gate. The fence was still torn up from where Max had punched the Honda through, but he didn’t understand the reason for the tape until he walked into the house.
The interior had been trashed. Sledgehammers had been taken to the walls, the kitchen cabinets and what had been inside them strewn everywhere, and the refrigerator lying on its side, its contents puddling on the floor. The big glass door leading out to the patio had appar
ently been shot out, with bullet holes in the trim and shattered glass covering the furniture and floor.
Adam ran down to the lab, noticing more destruction to the walls on the way. He assumed the destruction had been carried out by the men on the jet skis and their friends looking for the prototype. His lab was in shambles. Busted equipment, monitors, and books littered the place. A herd of cattle couldn’t have done more damage. Grim-faced, he picked his way through the broken glass and forest of papers just to make sure the carnage was total, and it was. Nothing was intact, not his computers, copiers, or anything else that had been kept in the lab and the outer office. The only saving grace was that because he’d taken Max’s advice, he had everything on portable disks. That knowledge didn’t lessen his anger at the damages or at the fact that ten years’ worth of work was now about as valuable as napkins from Mickey D’s blowing down the street.
He also took solace from knowing they hadn’t been able to find the prototype. Max’s face floated across his mind, but he pushed it aside. The less he thought about her, the better he’d be able to handle her not being around.
The second floor had taken a hit, too. Bedding was slashed, his bookcases had been turned over, and the drawers of his dresser tossed across the room. Kaitlin’s pink and white room had not been spared, either. While surveying her damaged things, he made a note to call her later.
But at the moment he had other calls to make. The first was to the police. They expressed regret that they hadn’t been able to catch the perps who’d annihilated the house, and they assured him the investigation would be ongoing. He thanked them and made a second call, to his mother. She didn’t pick up, so he left her a message, saying he’d be there sometime tomorrow and would call later with the specifics. His last call, aided by directory assistance, was to the local Cadillac dealer. Adam didn’t own a car, but because of all the patents he’d sold over the years, he had plenty of money, so by seven o’ clock that evening a salesman knocked on his partially attached front door and handed over the keys to a black, fresh-out-the-box Escalade that was parked in the drive, gassed up and ready to go. Adam took the keys, signed the paperwork, and named the powerful new truck Ossie.
Sexy/Dangerous Page 24
