by Ana E Ross
“Sometimes it is, sweetheart. Sometimes, but not this time. This time it’s really true.”
“I’m glad he picked you, and I’m glad I found you.”
“Me, too.” And he was so glad that Felicia and Lillian had gone against their sons’ advice and bought out that café, or they might never have found each other. There were no coincidences…
“You asked me once if I believe in fate. I didn’t know the answer then. But I believe in it now. It had to be fate that brought us together in the café. It had to be.”
“Sì cara, era destino.” Adam closed his eyes as joy flowed copiously through him. She had accepted the fact that fate had placed her in the path of the man the agent had sent her to, fifteen months ago. But had she recognized and embraced her place in his life and his home, and was she ready to take the next step into the secrets of the unknown with him? He needed to know. “Tashi, what decision had you come to in the garden today?”
She burrowed her face deeper into his neck. “I was going to leave. I was going to sneak away once you returned to work because I didn’t want to put you in danger. I didn’t want to be responsible for someone else’s death. Those men are dangerous, Adam. They will kill anyone who stands in their way, just like they killed your friend, and tried to kill me. I might be the only person to ever escape from them. I cost them a lot of money. They won’t stop looking for me. That’s why your FBI friend told me to stay off the radar. I’m scared for you, Adam.” She tightened her arms about him.
“You don’t need to be scared.” Adam combed his fingers through her hair, even as his flow of joy ebbed to a trickle. She’d been planning to leave. “And you’re not responsible for anyone’s death. Agent Dawson knew what he was walking into. He was doing his job. You did what you did to survive. You’re not alone anymore. You’re where you belong, baby.” Reluctantly, he eased her out of his arms and held her at arm’s length. “And the only way to keep you safe is to do what Agent Dawson asked.”
“Marry you?” She shuddered and looked away.
He brought her face back to his with a gentle nudge of his fingers to her chin. “Yes, marry me.”
“But he said it was only temporary until he came to me and explained everything. And so much time had passed. If he’s dead, it doesn’t matter anymore, and your association with me would just put you in danger.”
“It does matter, Tashi,” Adam said with an emphatic tremor in his voice. “And I’m not afraid of danger. Paul made the request because he knows I can protect you.”
Probably more than anyone else he knew, Adam thought. Paul had heard the story about Adam’s grandfather, Demitri, taking on a Rome-based mafia ring after they’d tortured and murdered Alessandro’s older brother, Vincenzo—a gambling addict who was unable to pay back a huge amount of money he owed them. Killing Vincenzo wasn’t enough for the mob boss who then ordered the kidnapping of Vincenzo’s five-year-old son and held him for ransom to pay back the debt. The boy had been rescued alive and well, but it was the biggest and last mistake that mob boss and his organization ever made.
When Demitri was finished, all the members of that mafia organization had been wiped off the face of the earth and their finances had been crippled so drastically that even their extended families had been forced to sell their homes and auction off their possessions. Up to this day, many of the mobsters’ descendants were still suffering the consequences of their parents’ sins. No Andreas had had any trouble since then, and it was known across Europe and the rest of the world that messing with an Andreas would bring certain death and destruction for generations to come. Paul knew the Andreas name would provide the type of protection Tashi needed.
Alessandro was just as merciless as his father. He crushed his enemies and stamped out any signs of threats to any family member or to Andreas International long before they took root. He’d even stopped talking to his best friend, Luciano, after learning that it might have been Luciano’s affair with his secretary that had caused his sister-in-law’s death. He was even more livid now that he’d discovered that a bastard child had been derived from that tragedy. Massimo hadn’t forgiven his deceased father for hurting his mother, but he’d accepted his half-brother Galen into his life.
Like Massimo, Alessandro was not a forgiving man, and it was with great pains at his wife’s insistence that he’d started talking to Luciano again. Adam knew that his forgiving nature was one of the reasons his father was so disappointed that he was less like him and more like his mother.
But his father was so wrong about him, Adam thought as fury gave flight within him. The Andreas’s ruthless trait had been lying dormant inside him because up until now, he’d had no reason to go to war. Nothing and no one had ever been important enough for him to fight for, no wrong severe enough for him not to forgive.
“Agent Dawson trusts me with your life, and I’m asking you to do the same,” he told Tashi, even as his mind began to race with more questions concerning Paul’s interest and involvement with her.
“I trust you, Adam. But—”
He placed his hands on her shoulders and held her gaze. “I want you to stop being so brave and let me take care of you. We don’t know why Agent Dawson singlehandedly risked his life for you, but until we do, we need to do what he asked. If anything happens to you, he will never forgive me. I will never forgive me.” He paused as his mind spun into the future. “There’s another reason we should get married as soon as possible.”
“What?”
“As your husband, I cannot be forced to testify against you in court if it ever came to that. As husband and wife, everything we discuss, everything we share during our marriage is confidential. It falls under marital privilege laws and it extends beyond divorce. So even a temporary marriage falls within the parameters of that law.”
“But— we—we aren’t married, and I already told you everything.”
“Only you and I are aware of that fact. I can have a copy of your birth certificate here by tonight.”
Her eyes widened in a panic. “Adam, that’s a paper trail. They can follow it here.”
He gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “I have ways of being inconspicuous while getting the job done, Tashi. Nobody will know. I promise. We can be married tomorrow, and as far as the rest of the world knows, you disclosed the events of that night after we said our vows. I would perjure myself for you, but I’d rather not go that route.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t let you do that, Adam. And—and your father wouldn’t allow it, even if he knew it was temporary. You see how he got when I told him that I was illegitimate and didn’t know my father. He cares about family traditions and lineage, and such.”
That was precisely what Adam was banking on. As long as Tashi bore the Andreas name, Alessandro wouldn’t dare deny her the protection of the family—tainted lineage or not. If there was one thing he knew about his father it was that family loyalty meant everything to him. He would move heaven and hell to ensure the safety of the future mother of his grandchildren. “You’re not marrying my father, Tashi. You’re marrying me. You can’t fight these people alone. Accept that you need me. Do what Agent Dawson asked. It’s the best way to keep you safe and alive. Don’t you want that?”
She looked thoughtful for a minute, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll marry you.”
Adam expelled a sigh of relief. “After tomorrow you’ll be known simply as Tashi Andreas.” He pulled her into his arms again and kissed the top of her head as the faint smell of ginger wafted up his nostrils. She’d had such a lonely childhood, forbidden to associate with her peers, and isolated from society. She’d been taught that the world was a dangerous place and to be suspicious and fearful of everyone, and then her worst fears had come to life one horrible night in a house in New York City.
No wonder she’d been so paranoid and frightened when she’d bumped into him at Mountainview Café and found herself locked in his arms. It was just her schemas of vul
nerability, social isolation, and alienation at play. She’d barricaded herself in her apartment, thinking that the multitude of dead bolts on her door would keep her safe. But she’d been proven wrong when her most precious possessions had been stolen.
This most recent and blatant invasion of her privacy was enough to send her into an emotional downspin, but it hadn’t. She was a survivor, strong, and determined not to let her circumstances cripple her, and not only that, but she’d challenged the doctrines of her upbringing and sought out and embraced the true nature of her own soul. Adam loved her strength, her tenacity, and her determination to live.
He loved her. Adam’s entire body trembled at the knowledge. He’d loved Tashi from the moment she’d gazed up at him from her bed in her apartment—frail and weak—and thanked him for cleaning her up. It had to be love at work for him to dive right in without any concern for his own health or safety.
The word ‘love’ itself was more than a combination of letters, or a sound to the ear. People threw the word out so frequently and casually that it had lost its meaning and its power. Love wasn’t a feeling, either. Love was action. What he’d demonstrated that night, and the way Tashi had responded to his actions was his interpretation of love. His heart had known since the moment he’d bumped into her, even long before he was ready to admit it, to accept the truth.
The fact that he could love someone he knew absolutely nothing about proved that the past of the object of one’s desire was immaterial. What was pertinent about Tashi was her smile, her smell, the silky warmth of her body, the flash of her emerald eyes, the sexy sound of her voice and chuckles—though hesitant at times—even her frowns, her uncertainties, and her paranoia moved him deeply. Those were the virtues in which his heart delighted.
Sadie was so right when she’d asked if it was he or his heart that had been in love before. His heart hadn’t been involved with what he thought he’d felt for Claire and Denise, especially Claire. Because of the way his mother had raised him, he’d mistaken lust for love, and had further convinced himself that he loved them to get his father off his back. It was his mind at work. Not so with Tashi. Both his mind and his heart loved her deeply, and he wanted so much to tell her, to shout it from the top of Mount Washington.
But he knew if he shared his feelings, she might take it upon herself to leave in order to protect him—just as she’d tried to do after he’d nursed her back to health. Unwilling to risk her life and his happiness, Adam concealed that sweet knowledge in the warm abyss of his heart for now, just until the opportunity to reveal it presented itself—not too far in the future, he hoped.
“Are you hungry, sweetheart?” he enquired when her stomach rumbled against his. “It is after one o’clock, and we haven’t had lunch.”
“I don’t want to eat. I just want to sleep. I’m so tired.” She sighed deeply.
“Of course. All that crying, and reliving the horror of that night have drained you emotionally and physically. Do you want me to carry you to bed?”
She snuggled into him like he was a comfy mattress. “No. I just want to stay right here if it’s okay.”
“It’s okay, Tashi. It’s okay. You can stay here with me.”
She raised her head and looked at him with tired eyes. “What about your parents? They know I’m here. Suppose they—”
“I asked them not to say anything. They wouldn’t.”
“Thank you.”
Stretching out on his back on the sofa, Adam eased Tashi down on him. He laid her jasmine-vanilla-scented cheek into the crook of his neck, and arranged her auburn, ginger-spiced curls across his chest.
He pulled a brown qiviut shawl from the back of the sofa and spread it over them. “Just close your eyes and sleep,” he said, wrapping his arms about her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Tashi awoke to the sound of a steady heartbeat beneath her cheek, the rhythm of labored breathing in her ears, the pressure of a hand in the curve of her back, and another on her buttocks. She wasn’t scared, but the feel of something hard pressing against the insides of her thigh made her tense, just a little, and brought her fully awake.
She opened her eyes and scanned her surroundings. She was in Adam’s office, on his sofa, or more precisely on top of him, where she’d fallen asleep. She glanced out the French doors where the bright light of the sun indicated it was still daylight—probably midafternoon—and eventually, the reason she was lying in Adam’s arms surfaced to the forefront of Tashi’s mind.
She’d told him everything about the worst night of her life… and about the FBI agent, and his request that Adam marry her. Tashi wished she’d known Adam was that man before she’d revealed that bit of information. His knowing, and offering to grant his friend’s request to marry her and protect her had changed the dynamics of their relationship.
No more was she merely a helpless stranger whose life he’d crawled through a window to save, and he wasn’t just the sweetest, kindest, sexiest man she’d ever met.
She was his charge, a young, inexperienced girl he was supposed to protect.
Would he have treated her differently if he’d known from the beginning who she really was? Would he have taken the liberties he’d been taking with her—encouraging her to undress for him, dance and play with him naked? Would he have protected her from himself and the raw desires she saw in his eyes each time he gazed on her naked body?
That day in the garden, when she’d voluntarily undressed in front of him, she’d been eager to test the limits of her newly discovered passions, but Adam had told her that she wasn’t ready. Tashi hadn’t understood his reluctance at the time, but in the past three days as she gained deeper insight into and control of her own mindfulness through yoga and meditation and learned to love and accept the uninhibited spirit of her true essence, she’d come to appreciate Adam’s wisdom. It seemed as if he knew her better than she knew herself.
During the past few days, Adam had told her that most people went through life being unconscious of so much. He’d stressed the importance of becoming still, of listening to the universe speak to her. He’d taught her to be conscious of her breathing and allowing it to awaken parts of her she hadn’t been conscious of before.
After understanding all that, Tashi knew that if she and Adam had made love that day, it would have been a mistake for both of them. She had no doubt that it would have been intense, sweet, and like nothing she’d ever experienced, but the aftermath would have been counterproductive.
The restrictive teachings of her upbringing were still prevalent in her heart and mind, and their power over her would have filled her with doubts and shame and guilt. She was certain that once caught in the moment, she would have enjoyed Adam, but she was just as certain that making love that day with him, or any other man, would have destroyed her perception about the overall sexual experience, perhaps for the rest of her life.
And Adam? Well, he would have been plagued with guilt for taking her innocence, for robbing her of the opportunity and the joys of first accepting and embracing her own sexuality before sharing it with another.
In that respect, he was not only the sexiest man she’d ever met, but also the wisest and most patient of them all. During her years in New York, Tashi had learned a few things about male sexuality, and one of them was that men needed sex on a regular basis, that it was all they thought about, day and night. It had to be killing Adam not to make a move on her, yet he’d promised to wait for her, wait until she knew in her heart and without a doubt that making love with him was what she truly wanted.
Would he look at her differently now that his role in her life had taken on a different meaning? Were their days of naked yoga and meditation a thing of the past? God, she hoped not because even though Adam never touched her in an explicitly sexual way when they were naked—which was more often than not—it was obvious that they shared an intense physical awareness of each other, even when they were fully clothed. The long hours of yoga and meditation with Adam were the mome
nts when she felt most desirable, cherished, like she belonged to something bigger than herself.
As if to eradicate her doubts about him, about them, Adam’s hands began to roam slowly across Tashi’s back and buttocks. She held her breath and remained still. This touch was different from all the other times he’d touched her. It carried a thread of urgency and expectation. He was touching her for pleasure, not for comfort, healing, or instruction.
As the delightful sensations washed over Tashi, she tucked her hair behind her ears and lifted her head. Adam was staring at her, his dreamy blue eyes brimming with passion and light and some other warm, drugging, deeply affectionate emotion she’d never detected in him before. Her first instinct was to look away as she’d done when they first met, but harnessing the energy of tantric soul gazing he’d taught her, she locked her gaze with his.
They were both fully awake and aware now—not just physically, but emotionally, spiritually, and sexually. The waiting was over. Their relationship had meaning and purpose now. He was seeing her differently, but not in the way she’d feared.
“Tashi.” The husky whisper of her name reverberated throughout Tashi’s body as if Adam had shouted it from deep inside her. Her pulse quickened in response and she felt that familiar tingling in her belly and the warm rush of moisture between her thighs.
She gasped aloud when Adam suddenly shifted his body beneath her, and brought their sexes in perfect alignment. The pressure of his hard length pulsing against her softness sent waves of pleasure careening to the core of her being. She trembled and moaned at the first deliberate intimate contact of their sexes. It was shockingly electrifying and intensely titillating, even through the barrier of their clothing.
His hand slid slowly down the dune of her buttocks, and when his fingers skimmed her upper thighs, just below the hem of her shorts, her heart began to hammer in her chest. She licked her lips and moved restlessly against him, unable to control this new form of fierce sensuality that was spreading like slow hot molasses through her veins.
