Lesson Learned

by Peri Elizabeth Scott

  “I think so, Adrian.” She hesitated, gnawing at her bottom lip, a mannerism he well recalled that signified she had something to say but was reluctant to say it.

  Dropping a kiss on Michael’s forehead, he eased out of the way so Jessie could do the same thing, struck by the domesticity of it all once again. She led the way out of the bedroom, flipping off the light and leaving a subtle glow of a night lamp to illuminate the space.

  She hovered in the living area where the sheet of pictures lay. “I should probably read the custody draft, and we can talk tomorrow.”

  Sexual tension fairly rippled between them, evident in the tension in her body and the widening of her eyes. He was so hard he hurt, fighting his body’s reaction the way he had all day. He wondered if he closed the gap, if she’d welcome him.

  A cell chimed close by, and they both started. Jessie visibly withdrew, and he clamped down on his lust. Fool me once… He was most familiar with the idiom, and there’d never be a third time.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow morning,” he said.

  “I’ll give you my number.”

  “I have it.”

  “That’s right. You had me investigated, and I guess it’s child’s play to get an unlisted number.”

  The comment stung, regardless of its accuracy and he nodded. “Tomorrow then.”

  Without waiting for her to open the door, he did so himself and left, closing the heavy panel behind him. His breath felt short and his chest tight, as though he’d made a narrow escape. He heard the lock turn behind him, and it felt symbolic—in a bad way. For a brief moment, he debated returning and going through the agreement with her before admitting he wasn’t sure if he trusted himself. Jessie was getting under his skin—and not merely in a physical way.

  Chapter Five

  He sat at his desk, paging through the documents he’d printed from the email his father had sent. He’d lain awake much of the night, thinking about Michael, wrestling with the idea that Jessie had hidden such a negative side from him in their earlier life, considering if he’d recognize the signs again. He’d finally risen to clean up and dress for an early trip to the office where his efficient assistant had already arrived and sent him the file.

  He looked at the screen again and confirmed that the body of the message indicated the paper file matched the digital one, and he wondered what time his parent had attended the office, regardless of the time difference.

  It had been three years, and there’d been a lot of business done over that time period. And his memory at the time of learning about Jessie’s intentions was somewhat clouded by emotion. Which might account for his reaction but not for some pieces that didn’t ring true.

  An ever-increasing sinking sensation overtook him as he cross-referenced overlapping information, relying on both his acumen and accessing certain other files. A pattern emerged, one that hollowed his chest and put his belly in an uproar.

  He placed a call overseas and located the accountant, setting the man on the path of tracking the anomalies. And then paced the floor, waiting for the callback. Reflecting, he made another call and connected with someone who knew the company—and its employees—inside out, no matter which branch they worked for.

  Old Mrs. Mereceny was only too happy to gossip with him, and his eyes were opened wider.

  The accountant’s call came sooner than he could hope for, and he jotted down the information with his heart sinking faster. He could formulate all kinds of reasons to excuse his behavior, but only a coward would do so. The release of emotion made him dizzy, as unaccustomed as he was to it. But past everything, he finally allowed himself to accept he’d never stopped loving Jessie.

  “You idiot. You and your stupid pride.” His words echoed in the room and smacked him in the face. Could she ever forgive him? Did she still hold anything for him in her heart? How could he even ask? But ask he would, even if he had to do it on his knees. Beg.

  “Eva? Can you check and see if Arthur Hodges is in yet? He should have arrived yesterday.” The man was a company man to the hilt, but jet lag affected everyone.

  In a few moments, she replied, “He’s here. With HR.”

  “Send him up. Now.”

  Hodges had started out in the London office in a lowly position before continuing his education and transferring to the one in Athens. Then back to England where he’d blown the whistle on Jessie. He’d have preferred the New York office if Adrian remembered correctly, but had accepted the position here. And why not? Vice president with only one rung on the ladder to go.

  “Adrian. Good to see you! Unexpected. Thought you were overseeing here and moving on.” Arthur cultivated a neutral English accent, but sometimes a harsher lilt broke through. Adrian wondered if he’d learned to cheat while pulling himself up and out of wherever he came from.

  “That was my plan. However, I met someone from my past and was encouraged to stay a while.”

  “Excellent. Someone I know?”

  Perhaps it was his fault that he’d encouraged such camaraderie with staff. He despised the practice at that moment. “You do. Jessie Brandt.”

  The other man’s ruddy complexion paled before he recovered. “Ah, Ms. Brandt. Hadn’t thought about her in a long time.”

  It was as if he could see Hodges’s mind spinning, his brain working furiously, wondering what Adrian knew, searching for a way to make it turn out in his favor.

  “Nor I.” A blatant lie, but one only he would know about. It was rare he got through a day without thinking about her or comparing other women to her. He’d driven the memories away with the whip of anger, anger he now desperately wanted to flay the other man’s bones with.

  Hodges knew about Sharon, would know a great many things, considering his tenure with the company. He had his fingers in many pies and his eye on everything according to the accountant and a more complete disclosure by the company gossip. His fury escalated.

  “Uh, how is she?”

  “Well.”

  “Good. Good.” Hodges rubbed his hands together and then twisted them apart as if knowing they signaled guilt.

  “I’ve done some research, Arthur. Three years too late, but in retrospect, it’s not too late.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  Quashing the urge to punch the other man in the face, Adrian slid a document across the desk. “This sums it up.”

  Hodges leaned forward and studied it, then looked up, his mouth opening, apparent intent to dispute the information evident in his muddy green eyes.

  Adrian said, “Save it.’

  “But…”

  “There’s nothing you have to say that interests me. If you hadn’t put the money back and covered your tracks, I’d see you in jail. I detected where you figured you were about to get caught—forensic accounting doesn’t lie. Shifting the blame was risky, though it worked at the time. As it is, the damage you did was localized.” He’d never give Hodges a hint of satisfaction of the real damage he’d wrought. Adrian had to own part of it.

  “She convinced you, eh?” The accent Hodges worked so hard to hide slipped through, along with a leer.

  Again resisting the urge to resort to physical violence, he raised his voice. “Eva.”

  The door opened instantly, and his assistant stepped in, accompanied by two large security staff. “These gentlemen will escort you to the airport and ensure you get on the plane. Your belongings have been retrieved.”

  “You can’t—”

  “I’ll lay criminal charges, and you’ll be held or deported.” His lawyers were already at work to ensure Hodges had no recourse. “And if you say anything further, that’s exactly what will happen.”

  Muttering under his breath, the man shoved to his feet and on a glare, took his leave, the security personnel in close attendance.

  “Make sure he’s on the plane.”

  “Consider it done.”

  Eva gave him a worried look before easing out of the office and closing the door. Adrian called his fathe
r and laid out the whole sorry mess.

  “Christos! We were all right about her, Adrian. And then turned our backs. That Hodges…”

  “If anyone is to blame, it’s me.” He hadn’t given his parents a chance to question his reaction to Jessie back then.

  “I know why you reacted and perhaps Jessie does too.”

  “She does,” he admitted, reflecting that the mother of his child knew more than his father. “But now I have to tell her everything.”

  “You do.”

  “I sent the custody agreement with a phrase I’m not certain she’ll forgive me for—if she can even accept my apology for how I reacted then.”

  “Then I suggest you don’t waste any more time determining this, Adrian.”

  His mother doted, his father … not so much. “I’ll let you know.”

  ****

  The cursed agreement mocked her from the coffee table. Michael had already attempted to draw on it, mimicking his jerk of a father. It was tempting to allow him because she wasn’t signing the damn thing. Adrian just couldn’t let it go. But then, neither could she.

  Her bitterness surged, almost getting the message across to her heart while definitely dousing her libido.

  She knuckled her forehead, glad her son was playing quietly with his new garage set—the toy had arrived by courier first thing that morning, compliments of Adrian. Just as the custody documents were compliments of that man, just when she thought he was softening on that front.

  The rap on the door made her stiffen, and she wished she could pretend there was no one home. Why hadn’t she taken Michael to the park? Anywhere? But better she deal with this thing immediately.

  Her toddler was already rushing toward the repeated knock, his little face alight. He said, “Daddy?”

  Her beleaguered heart crumbled yet again. Adrian had already established himself in her child’s life, and despite the lack of trust—on both sides—there was no way around it.

  She checked the peephole and drew back, a frown twisting her lips. Her head tilted, she opened up. “Denise. And Mikhail. How … unexpected.”

  Adrian loomed behind the couple, but she didn’t trust herself to look at him. Besides, she was wrestling with sudden fear—were his friends here to pressure her? Take Michael?

  Even as she talked herself down from that wild thought, Denise was wrapping her up in a warm hug, little Yvonne scooting past. “Adrian asked us to come, but we should have done it sooner. As soon as we realized about Michael.”

  Her husband stared into Jessie’s eyes. “Consider us backup, Jessie. Yours.”

  What the… “Excuse me?” She extricated herself from Denise and stole a look at Adrian who was now inside with a little boy clambering on him, jabbering about the garage.

  Yvonne had already discovered the new toy and was busy exploring.

  “Adrian has brought us up to date and asked that we look after your son—”

  “No!” That fear resurfaced.

  “Jessie.” Mikhail probably reassured countless women with his calming voice and obvious charm. “There are things you and Adrian need to discuss away from little ears.”

  “That’s for sure,” she muttered. “But I’m not comfortable with letting my son out of my sight, currently.”

  With Michael now riding on his back, Adrian crawled on all fours to the coffee table. Rearing up, with one hand keeping his son stabilized, he snatched the papers off the surface and crunched them into a tight ball. With a flourish, they landed in the wastebasket beside the end table.

  Her head spun, her heart pounding at his action, all the while noting how right father and son looked together. “What’s going on?”

  Swinging Michael to his shoulder, Adrian stood. “Just showing our son that his father, while an idiot, can face his mistakes and try to correct them.”

  She backed to a chair and plopped down. Adrian crossed to her and crouched at her feet, two identical pairs of eyes peering up at her. Words failed her. She intuited he’d had an epiphany and dared hope he’d determined the truth, but was afraid to ask. It could be a trick.

  “If we could take Michael and Yvonne to the park?” Denise wrung her hands. “Give the two of you some time alone?”

  Did she want time alone with Adrian? Did she trust Denise and Mikhail? Did she want to hear what Adrian had to say?

  Michael abruptly noticed his little friend’s entrancement with the garage and wiggled free to mark his territory. Sharing was still difficult for him.

  Studying the children, viscerally aware of Adrian’s closeness and trying not to inhale his familiar scent, she nodded. “I’ll get him ready.”

  “No need.” Mikhail hefted a large duffel. “We have everything I expect either of the children will require.”

  With one long look at her and another at Adrian, Michael succumbed to the lure of the park with his playmate and the apartment was suddenly silent.

  Adrian took her hand and chafed it between his. “I’ll speak to the matter directly. And apologize. For my behavior across the board. I fired Hodges this morning and can only say how I regret believing him and failing to even listen to you, Jessie. You were right—I let the past influence me and couldn’t see past the emotion. As for that clause in the custody agreement, I knew better. I knew you better, but my damned pride…”

  Relief and indignation warred, soon washed away by the tears that flooded her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

  “Jessie.” Adrian groaned and tugged her from the chair to sprawl against him, where he cuddled her close. “I hurt you so much. I’m so sorry.”

  “You wrecked me,” she choked out.

  “I wrecked myself. I’ve never stopped thinking about you, furious that I couldn’t forget. Some part of me knew the truth even then. I’ve been withdrawing from everything since but couldn’t admit to myself why that was.” He held her tighter and pressed his face in her hair.

  Shouldn’t she be extricating herself? Giving herself space and showing him the door? Too little too late, right? Except it felt like a second chance and she desperately wanted to take it. Hadn’t she, in the darkest of the night and her flights of fantasy, hoped for this? Adrian coming to his senses and making amends? Which was part of the reason she’d never looked at another man.

  “Sweetheart.” He leaned back and tipped her head back with a finger under her chin. “Will you consider us starting over?”

  A fresh start, or one that pushed past that day and incorporated and built on everything they had back then? She suddenly needed to be sure of something. “For Michael’s sake?”

  He grimaced. “Am I a terrible father to say that I don’t consider you a package deal? I want you both, but for entirely different reasons. I love you both—differently.”

  Had she ever thought to hear him say again that he loved her? She’d wished it. Missed it. Her heart somehow regenerated from ash, and she managed a tremulous smile, taking her lower lip between her teeth to keep it from trembling.

  Adrian’s eyes smoldered, staring at her mouth, and his dark head slowly lowered to first soothe the abuse and then claim it in a possessive kiss. She lost herself to the sensation, melting against him the way she used to, and when he took his lips from hers, she was breathless. And had decided—if there really was any choice when the man who’d taken up residence in her heart had never moved out.

  His features tensed. “Am I being presumptuous?”

  “It’s been a long time, Adrian. I love you, too.” She pressed her mouth to his, choosing her future, and the spark between them became a conflagration.

  Clearly taking her words and action as consent, his hands passed over her, tentative at first and then with increasing familiarity. Clothing rustled and shifted, and then his big hands found her aching breasts, the nipples tight and bunched with need.

  “So sweet,” he groaned. “And fuller.”

  She wasn’t precisely the same, three years and a child having changed her body, but that didn’t seem to make any di
fference to him as he caressed her and then drew one tip into his mouth.

  The feeling arrowed to her core, lighting up long untried flesh. She shivered, taking the opportunity to touch the long, smooth muscles of Adrian’s back, pressing him closer, urging him on.

  Her top and bra up around her neck, she found herself turned and placed flat on her back, his big body lowering to blanket hers, the better to access her breasts. He ministered to first one and then the other, the moisture left from his mouth cooling to add another layer to the sensations. And then he kissed a trail down her belly.

  From the look on his face, he delighted in her dishabille, and she obligingly lifted her hips as he tugged her yoga pants down, her panties right along with them. His tongue found the tiny silver markings on her abdomen, tracing each one with reverence.

  “You must have looked beautiful, all round with our son.”

  She’d looked like a beached whale but liked his description better. “I have pictures.”

  “I missed so much. A fool…” Before she could chastise him, he upped the ante, sliding downward to nuzzle at her apex. “I remember your scent.”

  His breath huffed against her and then his mouth was right there… “And your taste.”

  He quit talking as his clever tongue worked over her wetness, teasing her opening and flirting with her clit. She writhed in his hold, his shoulders keeping her thighs wide until she simply accepted what he gave her, as he drove her ever higher.

  The orgasm built and tightened in her belly, streaking to explode at the bundle of nerves he lavished attention on, and she cried out her completion, sobbing his name.

  The lower half of his face wet, his eyes watched her, alive with satisfaction and possessiveness. She came back to herself and supposed she accepted his apology.

  “You okay?”

  It was the first orgasm not given by her own hand in three years, and by the man who still played her body with the utmost skill. “I’m perfect.”

  He kneeled up and stripped off his shirt, displaying a torso that hadn’t softened over time. And nor had his cock, that part of him evident behind the fabric of the pants he gingerly unzipped and shoved down.