Against All Odds (Arabesque)

by Gwynne Forster

  He shifted his stance, uncomfortable in the silence that hung between them. He got the impression that she wanted to recall something that eluded her, and he waited with as much patience as he could muster. At last she spoke.

  “I’ve heard about that case Lord knows how many times. Daddy’s excuse was that he’d misplaced his brief.” Her cynical laugh jarred him. “And that’s probably the only thing that happened to him after he married Mama that he didn’t blame a member of your family for.” She folded her arms, running her hands up the wide sleeves of her robe. “You couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen at the time. What could have upset you so badly that you’d do such a thing?”

  “I can’t tell you without reflecting upon someone else. Remember that I didn’t hide it or take it—I just didn’t tell him I’d seen it. But I didn’t care if someone else took it. I hated the word Grant.”

  Her eyes widened. “But you were a child. Why?”

  “I had a reason, a personal one, but looking back, I admit that I didn’t behave honorably. It taught me a lesson, too: I never carry important papers in a briefcase unless I’ve stored a copy elsewhere.” The slow shake of her head, her pensive expression, were not the reaction he’d anticipated. She didn’t show anger.

  “I don’t know what to say to this. Whatever made us think we could have a normal relationship as other men and women do? There’s too much bad blood between us.”

  He wondered if she felt as ill fated, as resigned, as her seemingly careless shrug suggested. No matter, he had no intention of landing on his face because Rafer Grant hadn’t shown guts enough to fight adversity.

  “A man doesn’t allow a single incident to bring him down, to circumscribe his whole life. Such a man will use any excuse, any crutch.”

  Melissa opened her mouth to defend her father, but remembered that she had stopped doing that. She spoke mostly to herself. “Do you know what it means to spend your life trying to please someone, only to have the scales fall from your eyes, only to realize that such blind devotion is undeserved?”

  “Rafer?”

  She nodded.

  “Blind devotion is never deserved.” He kicked at the carpet, looked down at her, shook his head, and walked toward the opposite end of the room.

  “Adam, will you please stop pacing. It’s unsettling.” He did as she asked, but his close scrutiny told her that he wanted to gauge her mood, to figure out what had prompted her remark. She didn’t enlighten him. Why should she tell him what she felt when she watched his muscles ripple, or that the sight of his tight buttocks and long masculine legs cased erotically in his pants challenged her sense of propriety?

  He returned to his seat, leaned forward, and said, “You’re your father’s only daughter. How could he not love you? How could anybody not...” He didn’t complete the sentence, and she refused to raise her hopes by doing it for him. He sat with his right sneaker resting on his left knee, and her gaze caught his long slim foot sockless and unshod and the circumstance in which she’d seen it. Her mouth watered. Her right hand went to her tingling breast, and she shifted her position on the sofa. Flustered, she locked her gaze on a group of snapshots that rested on her mantelpiece and swallowed the saliva that accumulated in her mouth.

  “Melissa!” She resisted the pull of his voice and wouldn’t look at him.

  “Look at me,” he purred with the soft growl of a great cat preparing to mount its mate. As if programmed to do so, her eyes found his beloved face, and she drew in her breath when her gaze locked into his seductive stare, his knowing look.

  She glanced away. Good Lord! She nearly panicked at the realization that she still wore her robe and her bikini panties. Did he think she’d sat with him dressed in that way just to entice him? She stood, tightening the robe as she did so. She’d greeted him in that robe once before, she recalled, and he’d spent the night with her. Not this time. She started toward the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To get dressed.”

  “Why?” The sizzling hot, steely expression in his eyes told her that her robe was more than she needed. She tugged it closer to her body.

  “Come here and sit on my lap, honey.” With a hand in each of his pockets, he uncrossed his knee, spread his legs, and leaned back in the chair. “Come here, sweetheart.” Liquid legs propelled her to him.

  “I don’t want this, Adam. We can’t solve anything between the sheets.” He reached up, gathered her in his arms, and lowered her to his left knee. Tremors of anticipation raced through her at his deep, masculine laugh.

  “That’s the only place we ever solve anything. We want each other, so don’t bother to deny what you’re feeling.”

  She shrugged to display an air of indifference. “I’ve decided to deny myself. Self-denial builds character.”

  “And guarantees sleepless nights. Come on, honey. Open your mouth for me.”

  Her stubbornness gave way to compliance when she felt him rise strong and rigid against her hip, and she eagerly sought his lips. She reeled under the impact of his loving kiss. As soon as she returned his fire, his kiss gentled, and he showered her with tenderness, feathering kisses over her lips and eyes. Cherishing her. She reveled in it. Oh, it felt so good to be in his arms.

  She wanted to hold him forever, but his reason for being there flitted through her mind, and she couldn’t help withdrawing and knew that he sensed it. He held her away from him, studying her countenance.

  “I need to make love with you, but I need more. I can’t give myself to you halfheartedly, and I don’t want you to do that, either. You’re important to me, Melissa. Do you know anything about the problems we’re having at the factory?” He curled her to him as one would hold a baby. “Can’t you understand that I have to solve that problem, and that as long as I don’t know where you stand in this, my loyalties are split and I’m unable to do my job effectively?”

  She took a deep breath, mused over his words, and sought middle ground. “I can tell you that I don’t know who shot Timmy. The other thing I know is that Timmy’s daddy is the deputy chief of police, and Mama says he’s always taken care of Timmy’s numerous brushes with the law. I know that much, Adam.” She leaned back and looked him straight in the eye. “But I will not exonerate myself for you. Not now or ever.”

  She welcomed his audible sigh of relief. At least she could give him that much without compromising her integrity.

  He released her, stood, and walked to the far end of the room. “Will you lose any sleep knowing that I intend to seek the help of the FBI?”

  She couldn’t hold back the smile that curved her lips. “Not one wink. Crafty rascal, aren’t you?” He ran his right hand over his hair, not taking his eyes off of her.

  “So I’ve been told. You won’t yield on this, and neither will I, but you’ve given me something and for now I’m satisfied.”

  She yawned. “Would you like some coffee?”

  He slid his hands into his pockets and propped his foot on the rung of an antique chair. Then he laid his head to one side and cocked an eyebrow. “Coffee? You’re kidding. I want you.”

  * * *

  Adam lay on his back, his left arm securing her to his side. He’d made love to her twice, and the first time he’d been able to hold back as he had with every woman since, as a boy of fifteen, he’d gotten the strength to walk away from the one who taught him to crave her and then humiliated him for it. With her every move, Melissa had asked him for more than he gave her, but still he’d been able to withhold a vital part of himself. And with all her sweet giving, he’d been left unfulfilled, knowing he’d brought that on himself. She seemed to have sensed that his war with himself didn’t involve her, and she’d stroked and soothed him as he rested above her spent, but unsatisfied.

  Minutes later, still sheathed within her warmth, he had reached full readiness again. He’d kissed her with all the tenderness he felt for her, and with his eyes had asked her permission to continue. Her sweet smile of a
cquiescence had sent his heart soaring, and he’d cherished her, because it was what he felt, and she’d suddenly gone wild beneath him. Her body demanded that he give her all of himself, and at her zenith she’d repeatedly whispered her love for him and stunned him by telling him she needed his love more than she needed air. He’d lost it then. A feeling he’d never known. And he’d given himself because he wanted to, needed to, and finally because he couldn’t help himself. His control had shattered, and he would never forget that feeling of scaling the heights, of having the earth move beneath him and the stars shooting all around him. She had pulled down his walls, blasted his safe, and left him vulnerable to her. If he discovered that she had a hand in the mess at Leather and Hides, it probably wouldn’t make a damned bit of difference.

  He leaned over her, clasped her in his arms, and feathered kisses over her cheeks. He knew he had strength, that his toughness had made him a success. But he didn’t fool himself. The woman he held in his arms had a strength equal to his own. She had considered one of his “secrets” of little consequence. But he knew she wouldn’t treat the other one lightly, and that she had the guts to walk away no matter what she felt for him.

  * * *

  Adam showered in Melissa’s lavender-scented bathroom. He had thirty-five minutes in which to go home, change into business clothes, and get to his office in time for his first appointment. He hooked a towel at his waist, stepped out of the bathroom, and began to dress.

  “Where did you park?” He glanced over at her lying on her belly, her chin supported by the heels of both hands, and told himself to think about blackened redfish, the Indonesian rain forests, or poison ivy—anything except the sleepy woman between those sheets. He had to be in his office in minutes.

  “I parked four blocks away. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t do anything to make you the main topic of discussion at Martha Brock’s ‘Monday evening tea to help the homeless.’” Happiness flooded his heart at the sound of her infectious and uninhibited laugh, the laughter of a well-loved, sated woman.

  “Don’t forget Miss Mary’s Wednesday night prayer service,” she added, mimicking the old woman. “They’ll race right through it so they can get to the good part, the coffee and gossip part of the service.”

  He sat on the edge of the bed, pulled on his socks and sneakers, and felt her hand stroke the back of his head.

  “Do whatever you have to do about Leather and Hides, Adam. You would regardless of what I said, but I want you to know that I’d never want you to compromise your integrity—and no matter what you discover, do what you have to do. If I were in your big sneakers and faced what you do, I’d go for the truth and let the chips fall—”

  He turned to face her. “Thank you... I think. It’s easier to say that than to live through it, Melissa. I don’t want to make a move against you or anyone dear to you, and I hope it won’t be necessary. But I can only be who I am and what I am. I’ll do what I know is right, no matter how much or who it hurts, and this ridiculous feud won’t weigh in my decisions. We may face some difficult days. If we mean anything to each other after I get this mess settled, call it a miracle.” He hugged her quickly, shoving his desire for her under control.

  “Aren’t you going to work today?” Desire stirred in him as the backs of her fingers trailed down his cheek and stroked his neck.

  “I don’t think so. A dear friend will be staying with me for a few days, and I’m going into Baltimore shortly to get her.”

  He allowed a raised eyebrow, but inwardly he felt relief that she didn’t expect Magnus Cooper. “Anyone I know?”

  “I don’t think you’ve met her, but she’d love to make your acquaintance.”

  “What does that mean?” He stood, looked around for his jacket, and remembered that he’d left it downstairs. She rolled over, dropped her feet off the bed, and tucked the sheet around her.

  “It means she’s normal.”

  “Are you getting testy?” He had a feeling the look she gave him had been used repeatedly and to maximum effect.

  “Not yet, but give me time. I just remembered that Magnus Cooper is coming here today. Business, he said. He thinks this town is ripe with investment opportunities.”

  Adam’s hand remained suspended above the doorknob. “Remind him for me that when the great warriors of history lost a battle, they were usually on foreign soil. I’ll call you tonight.” He didn’t wait for her reaction.

  * * *

  Melissa dressed, put in a call to her secretary, and left for Baltimore. She’d had the car tuned up and cleaned inside and out. What she’d consider an ordinary mishap, Ilona would view as a major disaster. Her friend didn’t pamper herself to the point of being a bore, but she expected life to flow smoothly. She parked along a narrow street that ran perpendicular to the west side of the Pennsylvania Railroad station and walked the short block. A neatly attired older woman fell in step beside her.

  “You look so nice, dear. You remind me of myself when I was your age.”

  “Well, thank you,” Melissa answered, trying not to break her stride.

  “I love to see our young people looking so prosperous,” the woman went on. “Where’re you headed?” Melissa told her that she was meeting a friend.

  “I sure hope he’s nice, and I hope you appreciate him,” the woman droned. “Don’t do like I did. I was going to be an opera singer, come hell or high water. Well, it was high water, because it turned out I didn’t have the talent for it. The man I gave up in order to chase that windmill married my sister, and every holiday I have to watch him being happy with her and my three nieces and nephews. Now I’m fifty with a cracking voice, fading looks, and myself for company.”

  Melissa slowed her steps to a halt. “I don’t know what to say. I...I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  “Don’t be,” her companion said. “I make a very good living with my tarot cards, and the older I get, the more people seem to trust me.” She shook her head, as if in sadness. “If I could just stop dreaming about him and waking up thinking he’s with me.” The woman drifted into introspection, and Melissa touched her shoulder, waved, and strode to the information booth. Her encounter with the stranger had lowered her spirits. She feared that she would love Adam Roundtree forever, just as her mother still loved Bill Henry hopelessly after three decades, a marriage to another man, and two children. But the next move wasn’t hers to make.

  She bought a copy of The Baltimore Sun and found a seat in the waiting room. But the newsprint danced before her eyes until she saw only Adam’s face above hers. Adam in ecstasy, shattered, vulnerable, and bare. She had finally touched him. For the first time he’d given all of himself, had belonged to her completely. She wondered about the other times they’d made love. Best not to speculate, because she would never know unless he told her. But she’d keep the memory of it close to her heart. For those few moments, if never again, Adam Roundtree had been hers. Perspiration dampened her forehead as she recalled the fire-hot tension he built up in her, refusing her the quick and easy release she begged him for until at last he hurtled her into a star-spangled otherworld. And then he’d joined her.

  * * *

  “Melissa, darling, you must be thinking about this man. I’ve been standing here a full minute. Darling, it must be awful to sit in these wooden seats. How long have you been waiting?” A wide grin spread across Melissa’s face, and she quickly stood to hug her friend.

  “I didn’t wait long.” She picked up Ilona’s bag and started for the car. “I thought we’d have lunch in the Inner Harbor before going to Frederick.”

  “Whatever you say. I’m in your hands.” Ilona pointed to her new low-heeled shoes. “I bought these just for the trip. I wouldn’t be caught dead in these things on Fifth Avenue.”

  “Well, at least you’ll have some respite from your sore feet while you’re here,” Melissa commented, unable to resist needling her friend.

  After lunch Melissa gave Ilona a quick tour past the Johns Hopkins University and along Charles
Street and walked with her through the famous Lexington Market.

  “I haven’t seen so much meat since the last time I shopped with my dear mother in the Great Market in Budapest almost forty years ago,” Ilona exclaimed. “Don’t they have strawberries down here?” she asked, when they wandered through the produce section.

  “Ilona, this is December. If you want strawberries, I’ll stop by a specialty shop.” Ilona told her not to bother.

  “But darling, you should have strawberries to feed your man—one at a time,” she explained, pausing for effect. “But we could get some grapes. Grapes are good for that, too, except then you feed him the whole bunch. Just make sure he doesn’t choke—some men don’t know the purpose of that.” Melissa resisted asking her to explain it.

  “Are you expecting company, Ilona?”

  “No darling, but you must be. I’m going to be here four days, and no real vooman would let so much time go by without seeing her man. So when do I meet him? Tonight?” she asked, hope caressing her accented tones.

  * * *

  Melissa glanced at her rearview mirror when she backed up to park in front of her house and saw the gray Towne car ease to the curb right behind her. She counted to three under her breath, and turned to Ilona.

  “We’re home.” She opened the trunk to retrieve Ilona’s bag and the few items she’d bought. She knew that the male hand on her arm didn’t belong to Adam, and suppressing annoyance, looked up into the hazel brown, expectant eyes of Magnus Cooper.

  “You broke our appointment,” he reprimanded in a gentle voice.

  “I’ve been waiting to meet you,” she heard Ilona say, mistaking Magnus for Adam. “But somehow, you’re not what I expected. You’re more my style than Melissa’s.” She looked him up and down. “I’ve had less pleasant surprises.” Melissa watched Ilona’s fun and felt some of her antagonism toward Magnus ebbing. His car parked in front of her door would be a feast for her nosey neighbors and fuel for Adam’s temper. He wouldn’t believe that a man of Magnus Cooper’s sophistication would visit a woman unless he knew she would welcome him.