“Oh my god, stop,” he said, groaning. Reasoning with her was useless. “I’m just saying it wasn’t your fault. Although, next time I suggest you dress less … like this.”
“What’s wrong with it?” Clara’s voice rose with concern. “This is far from the shortest skirt here. And the shirt is—”
“The shirt …” Adam fingers slowly reached for the gold chain around her neck before continuing, “is just revealing enough.”
His fingers played with the gold necklace. He’d noticed the chain during their tutoring sessions, but it was always hidden away. Adam followed the delicate links, enjoying the feel of her soft skin under his fingers. Tonight her light blouse exposed enough of her beautiful skin. A few more undone buttons and Adam could stop imagining what lay underneath the loose cotton of her shirt. He hoped something black and lacy.
Carefully pulling out the locket nestled between her breasts, Adam distracted himself by asking, “What this?”
“What’s what?” Her words seemed distant. “Oh, you mean my necklace. My—uh ... my mother gave it to me. It was my grandmother’s. Well, one of. She had two. An old pocket watch that my sister has and this one. Pretty, right?”
“Very.” Adam restrained his smile. If her babbling were a sign that he was affecting her, then he would listen to it all night. He kept his gaze on the faded picture of the miniature globe. His thumb swept over the ancient piece. The letters CPL were engraved on the back.
“Clara Paige Leprince,” Clara answered in anticipation. “She died the year before I was born.”
“And your parents named you after her.”
“Sort of. My father fought for Clarabelle, but my mother insisted on keeping Paige.” An unfamiliar warmth pulled at Adam as he watched Clara smile wide. “He said after he met my mom, there wasn’t anything in the world he wouldn’t do to make her happy.”
“Tell me more about them.”
For a moment, she looked confused. “My parents?”
“Yes.”
Leaning back in his chair, Adam listened to her voice fill with the joy of distant memories. He was captivated by the affection in her words. She spoke as if it were her own love story.
Adam’s thoughts drifted to his parents. On the surface, it would appear Clara and him were cut from the same family cloth, but deep down she was romance and board games. He was board meetings and family duty. How could two stories be as different as night and day?
“Which is why you and I can only be friends,” Clara almost whispered.
Adam’s attention snapped back to her. Either she’d read his thoughts or he’d missed a vital part of her story. How did her parent’s happy marriage lead to that conclusion? Not letting his annoyance speak for him, he said, “I don’t follow.”
“Look, it’s obvious there’s something here, but I don’t do flings.” She averted her gaze from the heat of his eyes. “I want love. And passion—”
“I can do passion.” Adam inched closer, pulling her beautiful eyes back to him. “In fact, I’m very good at passion.”
Clara drew in a long breath and a smile stretched across her lips. “Oh, I’ve heard. Everything from teaching assistants to twins.”
Adam leaned back and his deep laugh filled the room. She could go from sweet to brash in one breath. “So I’m no saint.”
“Far from it.”
Adam took another chance and leaned forward again. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t change.”
Clara’s swift movements reflected his own. “I’m not trying to change you, Adam. And I wouldn’t.”
“You don’t think I can?”
“I didn’t say that. But you don’t change for people. You change for yourself.”
“I disagree. So what are you afraid of?”
Clara gently bit down on her lips. It was an unconscious effort to keep her mouth shut, but it drew Adam’s thoughts toward a much more carnal impulse.
“Honestly? Heartbreak.”
The color in her suddenly rosy cheeks enticed him further. If it weren’t for the hum of the party vibrating the kitchen walls, Adam would have slowly taunted and teased her until she was convinced he was worth the risk. He didn’t believe a broken heart was her biggest fear. There had to be more. After his talk with Luke and Deacon, it was obvious he would have to step up or step aside.
Adam leaned closer, pushing her soft cheek until her gaze saw nothing but him. His voice filled with desire as he whispered, “I can change that.”
Chapter Twelve
Finals were over! Choirs of angels sang from every corner of campus. Drops of pure bliss fell on Clara like each gentle snowflake that covered her knit hat as she bounced her way back to her dorm room. Two weeks of locking herself away from the social world had paid off. She could feel it in the brisk air. Better yet, Clara had survived her first semester at Beaumont University and had surprisingly enjoyed most of it.
She was busy dancing to her own little tune when Corin’s deep voice called from behind her. Clara resisted the urge to groan out loud as she turned to face him. He closed the gap between them in a few large strides.
“You’re in a good mood,” Corin said. “Finals go well?”
“I think so. How about yours?”
Corin shrugged. “Can’t complain.”
“That’s good.” The words rushed out. The last thing she wanted was to spend too much time with him. Things were still awkward since the night he tried to kiss her. “Well, I promised Rose I would meet her for lunch, so I better get going.”
“I’ll walk with you.” His long steps fell into place beside Clara. “So we’ve missed you at the apartment the last few weeks.”
Clara shifted under the weight of her bag. “Yeah, I’ve been pretty busy. You know … with finals coming up.”
“I heard.” His voice was tense. “Adam mentioned it. Sounds like you had enough time to tutor him again.”
The little hairs on the back of Clara’s neck stood up at the sound of Adam’s name. She didn’t want to discuss him. Not with Corin. Ever since the night Adam fought off the drunken wolves, Clara felt obligated to help him again. To her surprise, Adam was nothing but a studious pupil. Gone were the days of his heavy flirting and constant innuendoes. Clara should have been relieved, but instead, it left her feeling confused and slightly annoyed.
“Corin, I don’t see why that’s any of your business.” She was in the perfect mood. She didn’t need Corin to ruin it with his misplaced jealousy.
“I just don’t get why you’d take him back after the way he lied to you.”
“Take him back?” Clara stopped so fast she almost slipped on the icy ground. “We were never going out to begin with. Just because I’m helping out a friend doesn’t mean—”
“The fight?” Corin interrupted.
“Was just one friend protecting another,” she said with a little hostility. Even her final wasn’t this big of a pain.
“If you say so. But it sent a different message to everyone else.” Corin sent Clara a heated stare. “Look, there’s a lot you don’t know about the guy. I’ve watched countless girls throw themselves at him. They’re all the same. They think they’re something special just because Adam Beaumont looked their way. They think they’ll be the one to tame the beast,” he said mockingly. “And what do you know? They’re all crushed when he turns out to be exactly like his reputation. Don’t be that girl, Clara.”
She returned his gaze with a glare. “Try giving me a little credit.”
Her effort to storm away was short lived as his large hand pulled her back. “I’m just looking out for you.”
“Well don’t. I never asked you to. And we both know you’re as bad as he is, so don’t pretend you’re not.”
She tried to escape again, but he blocked her with one large step. He moved so fast, she almost collided with his large chest. The familiar pulse of annoyance rippled through her. She was tired of oversized men blocking her path.
“When will you see that I’m the only one looking out for you?” Corin asked. “Adam doesn’t care about you. Rose is too busy with Luke. Half of Adam’s friends are just there because they know his name will open up future doors. The other half hates him because he slept with their girlfriends. No one’s going to give two shits when he uses you.”
“Oh yeah? And Luke and Deacon? They seem to care about what Adam does.”
A deep, menacing laugh echoed throughout campus. “Those two dipshits? They’re more like his little loyal subjects.”
“And you?”
Corin’s voice grew uncomfortably calm. “Adam can be an asshole, but like I said, he can open a lot of doors for me once I graduate this shithole. And I know you’ve dreamt of getting away from all this …” Corin took a step closer, and his hard stare softened. “I’m sorry if that sounds rude. I just never thought you would fall for someone like him. You and I are the same. We want the same things. Together we could easily make a name for—”
“I think I’ll make a name for myself, thanks.” Successfully ducking around him, Clara made a break for it. There was no way she was going to stand there and listen to Corin pretend he was doing her a favor.
“Don’t come crying to me when he screws you over,” Corin yelled.
“I’ll be sure to remember that at the Dean’s holiday party,” she called behind her before quickening her pace.
Clara wasn’t going to let him ruin her good mood. She’d learned from their first year of school together that Corin was the type of guy to say and do whatever he thought would get him ahead in life. He was a ticking time bomb with a short fuse, and Clara wanted to be miles away when he finally went off. If it weren’t for his own family name, he would have been in juvenile detention long before he ever graduated high school. He was nothing but a thug with a trust fund.
* * *
The night was almost perfect. For the second time in the past few months, Clara found herself seated at the large dining table at the Beaumonts’ grand estate. She was impressed by the home the day she came for lunch, but tonight the place was immaculate. Every inch was decorated to perfection. Large ornaments and garland lined every mantel. Candles scented with cinnamon flickered at every height. If it weren’t for the modern attire of the many guests and recognizable Christmas tunes, Clara would have sworn she leaped right into one of her historical romance novels.
The Dean’s Annual Holiday Dinner was proving to be as spectacular as the rumors. It was a night to honor the school’s best and brightest. However, most believed its sole purpose was to flaunt the gifted students under the rich noses of Beaumont University’s largest contributors. None of that fazed Clara. She was lost in another bite of the red velvet mousse cup that was served after the five-course meal.
Her guilt about eating such a beautiful piece of art was stripped away with one bite of the rich dark chocolate shell. A quiet moan slipped past her lips. Clara’s eyes darted around the large table, hoping no one had heard her unladylike response to the mouthwatering dessert.
Relief washed over her. The rest of the guests were lost in their own dishes. At least everyone except a pair of steel blue eyes at the far end of the table.
Damn it, Clara’s thoughts cursed as she averted her attention from Adam. He looked breathtaking in his dark suit. He’d been the proper host all night alongside his mother, greeting every guest into his home with a charming smile and firm handshake. Heat filled every inch of Clara when his eyes had raked over her in the foyer. Now, she felt like she was trapped in an inferno. The storm in his stare intensified as if he wanted to devour every inch of her.
Her stomach flipped in anticipation, which caused her blush to deepen at the thought. She was thankful when Angela Beaumont rose to invite her guests to disperse throughout the first floor of the home. Most of the men snuck off to challenge each other to a game of pool, while the wives huddled around to catch up on each other’s lives.
Clara’s happy distraction was short lived as wave after wave of alumnus greeted her, asking about her future and praising her for receiving such a high scholarship. She hoped Deacon would come to her rescue, but he was deep in conversation on the other end of the room.
“Yes, it’s quite an honor for a young woman like yourself,” the man before her said. “Joseph Ashby received the Fullmont Honors Scholarship in my day. Good man. I believe he’s still the CEO at Benson General Hospital. The trouble we got into back in those days …”
Clara remained mostly silent as the man relived his years at Beaumont. She laughed when appropriate and nodded when it seemed fitting. She wasn’t trying to be rude, but small talk was never a gift of hers. After chatting with so many new faces, Clara couldn’t remember any names. So she smiled sweetly and sipped at her glass of punch, trying to get her wandering mind to focus.
Clara was lost in idle wonders of how many rooms made up the stunning estate when a familiar deep voice interrupted their one-sided conversation. “Your football team wouldn’t have stood a chance against the boys we have today.”
Clara’s attention snapped to her right as Adam joined them in the opening that divided the living room from the billiards room. It was clear she’d missed something important, but at the moment, she was too transfixed on how good Adam looked in a perfectly fitted suit. Too good. With the tie loosened, he was even more striking than he looked at dinner.
“Don’t believe a word James says,” Adam continued. “He’s notorious for embellishing his stories.”
The room filled with the man’s husky laugh before her turned his attention back to Clara. “Adam doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He was dropped as a child. Awful head injury.”
Clara’s gaze shifted between the two as they fell into an easy conversation regarding Adam’s plans for his future. They looked generations apart, and yet a familiarity hung in the air around them. Without a single pause, Adam reached for Clara’s empty glass and replaced it with a new one.
“Thank you,” she quietly replied before taking a sip. The moment the liquid touched her tongue, Clara almost choked. What should have been sweet punch had been mixed with the distinct taste of hard liquor.
A sly smile wrapped around Adam’s lips, but he continued talking to James as if nothing was out of place. He replied with a subtle wink that heated every inch of her much faster than any booze.
“There you are,” a woman called, interrupting the conversation and giving Clara a moment to recompose herself. The woman wrapped her beautifully manicured fingers around the arm of her husband. “Why don’t you let these kids enjoy their youth instead of listening to an old man relive his.”
James looked lovingly at his wife as he shook his head. “Yes, dear.” Turning back to Adam, he reached his hand out and said, “Now you let me know when you graduate. I might have a good investment coming your way.”
“Look forward to it,” Adam replied.
As the couple walked away, Clara searched for something casual to fill the sudden silence. “So how’d you know I needed a drink?”
“Because I watched you sip on the other one every time someone new started talking to you. Nervous habit?”
She fiddled with the long sleeve of her red dress, ignoring his question. “You were watching me?” she asked, unable to hide the pleasure that filled her words.
“Just making sure you didn’t need rescuing,” he replied. His hand swept down her back, its warmth seeping through the fabric of her dress. Her heart pounded, aware of his every movement as he guided her down the long hallway. “It’s easy to get cornered at these events. One friendly hello to the wrong person and you could spend hours talking about politics or the newest business trends. Or worse, the latest gossip about names you’ll never meet or even remember.”
His playful attitude was annoyingly addictive, and Clara’s heart thudded with each step they took down the main hall. She tried to be as graceful as possible. With the way Adam’s closenes
s was toying with her nerves, she was positive she would trip on the material of her long gown.
“So where are you taking me now?” she asked in her own playful tone.
“Upstairs,” he whispered suggestively. The simple reply was a sudden shock to her system. He must have noticed the terrified look on her face because he quickly laughed and said, “A bunch of us like to hide away for awhile before facing the party again. Not all of the scholar students enjoy being sober and yacked at all night. The other half is here because of their parents.”
“Oh.” She was surprised by the trace of disappointment in her voice. She wasn’t hoping Adam would make a move on her. In fact, she was constantly reminding herself what a bad choice that would be, but something about Adam made her want to be reckless, at least for a night.
Or perhaps two …
“Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll give you the grand tour. Although we don’t let guests past the first floor,” Adam said with a devilish wink.
“Then why are we going upstairs?”
“To hide away of course.”
Clara’s eyes rolled with her laugh. “Always the rule breaker.”
The sound of Adam’s low chuckle sent wonderful chills down her spine. “Oh, you have no idea. But what I meant was aside from letting some friends retreat to my room for a few drinks, we don’t let guests wander the second and third floors.”
A mischievous smile pulled at Clara’s lips. She itched to see each nook and cranny of the gorgeous estate from the first day she’d arrived for lunch months ago. That was until she had stormed away as fast as her feet could carry her.
“So what’s on the second and third floors?” she asked.
“Mostly just bedrooms on the second. The home was built in the 1890s, so the third floor used to be servant quarters, but now the entire interior has been redone. A few times actually.”
Clara’s head spun from trying to wrap her mind around that kind of family history. “What’s up there now?”
Tame the Beast (Ever After #1) Page 10
