Adam flashed a wicked smirk. “Well, there’s another office, living room, family theater, weight room, torture chamber …”
Catching the humor in his eyes, Clara narrowed hers. “Very funny.”
“I thought so. We actually moved it to the basement.” He lowered his head, his voice low and husky as he whispered, “Maybe I’ll show you later … find out what you’re really into.”
“What makes you think I’m into anything like that?”
“I’ve seen your book collection.”
Clara bit on the insides of her cheeks to keep from smiling. He didn’t need any more encouragement. His ego was already big enough. If it grew any larger, they would have to build a fourth floor just to accommodate it.
When she didn’t respond, he asked, “Impressed?”
“Maybe a little.” Her grin stretched, betraying her amusement. “But don’t let it go to your head. It’s not like you built the place.”
Adam’s laugh bounced down the hall as he led them up the closer of the two grand staircases that encompassed the room. Clara took each step carefully. The red lace hugged every inch of her down to her hips before flaring out to the floor. Combined with heels, it was a death trap. The last thing she wanted was to trip up the stairs with Adam following behind her.
Be elegant, she reminded her feet as her hips swung with each step. She kept her shoulders back and chin high and thanked her lucky stars that she didn’t stumble.
She let out a relieved breath as the last step was behind her. She expected Adam to take his place at her side again, but he didn’t. Clara twirled around to see he was standing three paces behind her, still holding the rail at the top of the staircase.
“You okay?” she asked, worried.
“Yup,” came his speedy reply. He looked everywhere else but at her. “Just a little winded.”
Clara squinted back at him. Every flawless inch of him looked to be in perfect condition. She knew most of his down time was spent in the gym with Corin and Marcus. He had the broad chest to prove it. The hallway was dim but from where Clara stood, he didn’t look one bit winded. He did, however, look to be in pain.
Alarmed, she closed the distance between them and asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Adam clenched his jaw. When Clara took a step closer, he held his hand up in protest. “I’m fine.”
Ignoring his motion, she argued, “You don’t look fine.”
Out of instinct, she ran her hand down his arm. It was a gesture meant to comfort him, but Adam seemed annoyed by her effort. With two long strides, he pushed them both away from the open banister and further down the dark hall. Clara stumbled, her bare shoulders meeting the rough texture of the wall.
Adam held her at arm’s length and hissed, “Damn it, woman. You’re impossible.”
“What’d I do?”
“You’re too damn stubborn,” he said through a strained breath.
Clara stared back, wide-eyed. “What’d I do?”
Adam released a long breath. Slightly relaxed, he took a small step closer. Clara tried to decipher the look in his stormy blue eyes, but they were overcast with an emotion she couldn’t place. When she didn’t pull away, Adam took another step. And another. His rough fingers gently ran down her cheek.
“This,” he began as he pressed his body to hers, “is why I need a moment before I walk into that damn room.”
A small gasp escaped her lips. Despite the layers between, Clara could feel the full length of his desire. Her hand shot up to her mouth to suppress her laughter.
“Oh, you think this is funny?” His tone was mixed with irritation and amusement.
She couldn’t help it. The idea that she had somehow aroused him excited her. She felt a sense of … power. It made her want more. More of him.
“Control yourself,” she whispered, but she wasn’t sure which one of them she was talking to.
“I don’t think I can around you. I tried to be good, but never have I been more turned on than I was watching you move in this dress.”
The deep rasp of his voice sent chills through Clara’s, his words setting her skin on fire. Rose had insisted the dress was perfect for the party. Clara felt elegant in its red lace, like a perfectly cut ruby, but she never thought it would have such an effect on him. She would have to thank Rose later.
At the moment, she could only focus on Adam’s hand as it trailed up her waist. His movements were agonizingly slow. She knew she shouldn’t want him, but she did.
As if answering her silent plea, Adam covered her mouth with his. She responded instantly, throwing her arms around his neck. His hands moved everywhere, tangled in her loose curls, drawing lines around her exposed collarbone.
It was too much, and yet, not enough.
When his touch brushed across her breast, her body inched forward, pressing them closer together. She wanted to feel everything his touch promised.
“Clara,” he moaned as he kissed down the line of her jaw. When his scorching lips found a very sensitive spot on her neck, it took everything to stay quiet. “I think you should wear something like this more often.”
She was robbed of all words, drunk on the sweet smell of his cologne. The thought of someone finding them like this both terrified and thrilled her, but the moment he burned a trail of kisses down her exposed collarbone, all thoughts vanished.
There were too many layers. She wanted to feel his skin on hers. Needed to. When his fingers lingered on the zipper of the dress, she silently screamed, Yes!
Just as she was ready to lose herself in the fantasy, the sudden jolt of a door pulled them both back down to earth. Someone stumbled out from the upstairs party.
“Damn it, Luke,” Adam cursed.
Luke’s voice boomed as he staggered over to them. “Adam! My man. We thought someone down there swallowed you up. Oh …” A broad smile filled his face as he noticed Clara. She was still trying to readjust her mess of curls. “Maybe someone did.”
“Go back to the room, Luke,” Adam warned. “You’re drunk.”
“But your mom always lets me hang around after the dinner.” His pout deepened. “It’s my reward for helping ma in the kitchen.”
“Yeah, when you’re not smashed out of your mind.”
“Ma?” Clara asked as she tried to cool her scorched cheeks.
“Mrs. Thompson,” Adam replied. “You met when we had lunch.”
“She loved you,” Luke slurred. He slung his arm over Adam’s shoulder and flashed another grin at Clara. “She also thinks you should give this guy a chance.”
“Thanks,” Adam replied as he gave his drunken friend a pat on the back. “Now, let’s go sober up. My mother will kill you if you throw up in her crystal vase again.”
The corner of Luke’s mouth lifted. “My ma would too. After making me clean it.”
Adam’s laugh filled the hall as he led Luke back to the room. He signaled for Clara to follow but not before sending her a look that promised they would continue what was interrupted. The muscles in her stomach clenched in anticipation. Adam had awoken something deep inside her. She was ready to be reckless.
Chapter Thirteen
Three weeks. Three long weeks since the Dean’s Annual Holiday Party and Adam hadn’t seen Clara since. Despite his persistence, Clara rejected his suggestions that she skip spending the holidays with her family and stay at Beaumont instead.
Anxiously, Adam fiddled with his pool stick and waited for Luke, who took his sweet time lining up his next shot. The longer Luke took, the further Adam’s mind drifted to Clara in that red dress. He wouldn’t mind bending her over the pool table and …
“If you take any longer Adam is going to fall asleep standing there,” Deacon said over the brim of his book.
“Hey, I like taking my time,” Luke said. With one sharp hit, Luke sunk his ball and lined up for another. “And it doesn’t look like he’s about to fall asleep. It looks like he’s day
dreaming.”
“You might be right,” Deacon said with a smile.
“Of course, I am.” A quiet damn was uttered under Luke’s breath as his last ball hooked away from the pocket. “Twenty bucks says he’s thinking about a certain brunette.”
Adam snapped to attention and sent both his friends seething glares.
Deacon shook his head. “I don’t take losing bets.”
“I’ll take that bet,” Adam said with a little too much hostility. Aiming for a more nonchalant tone, he circled the table to take his shot, and added, “And I’ll raise you thirty if I bank the eight ball off that cushion, side pocket.”
Luke’s broad smile grew as Adam leaned over to line up the cue ball. “Let’s see what you got.” Just as Adam prepared for his shot, Luke smugly added, “Did you see the way Clara’s ass moved in that red dress she wore—”
Crack.
Adam’s pool stick slammed to the table as the cue ball flew into a side pocket. Scratched. Curse words echoed off the walls as Adam stormed towards his friend.
Luke’s words came rushing out as he threw his hands up in surrender. “Bro, calm down. I wanted to mess up your shot, not piss you off.”
“Yeah real funny,” Adam murmured before moving toward the mini bar. He shouldn’t have reacted like that. The thought didn’t sit well with him. He needed a drink, preferably something with whiskey.
“What the hell’s been up with you lately?” Luke asked as he re-racked the table.
“Nothing.”
“Bull. I think Clara’s getting to you.”
“I don’t let women get to me.”
Deacon eyed him from the edge of his book. “Not even Vivian?”
“No,” Adam said, a warning in his tone. “Not even her.”
The brothers exchanged looks of doubt but knew better than to push that particular topic.
“Deny all you want,” Luke began, “but you’ve been an ass the last few months. After the Christmas party, I figured you’d lighten up a bit.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
At Adam’s stubbornness, Deacon said, “Extra drinking, getting pissed every time someone mentions Clara …”
“Face it, man,” Luke piped in, “You’re either in love or need to get laid.”
“Probably both,” Deacon added.
Laughter echoed between the brothers. Adam glared in response and nursed his drink. He couldn’t argue Luke’s last point. He hadn’t slept with anyone in the past three months, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. Clara somehow waltzed into his life and made every other woman pale by comparison. He needed a few sleepless nights with her to get her out of his system, plain and simple.
“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up,” Adam grumbled.
“Oh come on,” Luke said, “Drop the act. It’s us. Clara’s good for you, man. You’re used to walking into a room and having some girl throw herself at you. But Clara’s never done that. She doesn’t put up with your crap, which makes her exactly what you need. So what are you going to do to seal the deal?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”
“Liar. How about her birthday coming up?”
Panic rose in Adam’s throat. “Her birthday’s coming up?”
“Uh, yeah. Rose’s been talking about doing something for about two weeks now. It’s in a few days. The seventh or something. I’ll double check.”
Adam nodded his appreciation, but hesitated to ask, “What should I get her?”
“I don’t know. What does she like?”
“She likes to read. Should I get her a book?”
Luke eyed him from one raised brow. “Not unless it’s some signed, limited edition by her favorite author. Come on, bro, wake up. I’m usually the one coming to you for advice. What gives?”
Adam shrugged it off. “It’s like you said. Clara isn’t like most of the girls I’ve dated. She’s not going to go for the usual. Wouldn’t matter anyways. I don’t even know who her favorite author is.”
“Pick any classic,” Deacon replied. “Austen, Shakespeare, Brontë … either Brontë.”
“How do you know that?” Adam asked, surprised that Deacon knew something about Clara that he didn’t. He wasn’t angry. A bit jealous perhaps, but only because it was something he should’ve already known.
Deacon shrugged. “We talked during the first game. I don’t care for romance novels, but you have to appreciate the classics.”
Adam thought about Deacon’s idea. “Bro, you’re a genius.”
“Thanks, but I was just telling you her favorites, not suggesting—”
Adam wasn’t listening. He was busy plotting.
“Adam,” Deacon called, “For the price some of those go for, you could buy her an entire library … Adam!”
Deacon’s efforts were useless. Adam was already down the hall and up the stairs. Clara was going to have the perfect birthday gift.
* * *
Funny how the perfect plan could end up an utter disaster. Adam should not have listened to Luke and his babble about how to woo Clara. Compliment her, but don’t let it sound cheesy. Talk about her interests, but don’t make things up just to impress her. She’ll see right through it. Take charge, but be a gentleman.
He’d never needed Luke’s romantic advice before, but every moment spent with Clara had him further off his game. He was treading in unknown territory. Nervous he would resort back to his usual bullshit lines, Adam scarfed down his entire meal like a starved animal.
After the painfully awkward dinner, he hurried them back to his family home where her gift waited. It was his last hope to save the night before taking her back to her dorm. He no longer deluded his mind with thoughts of getting lucky. Hell, he’d be lucky if Clara was even still interested in him after tonight.
“Thank you for dinner,” Clara said as they walked along the side path to his house.
Adam ran his hands through his hair. “Yeah, you’re welcome. I’m sorry it didn’t go as smoothly as I hoped. Should have picked a different restaurant.”
Once Clara had her gift, they could hop right back into his black Audi so he could take her home before heading to drown away his failures with the guys.
“No, it was good. I usually don’t eat French cuisine, so it was a nice treat.”
Adam’s reply was interrupted as a snowball flew through the air, smacking him in the face. He was ready to destroy whoever dared to make his date even worse when a child squealed from behind one of the tall bushes. Instead, he shook his head, chuckling at how horribly derailed his perfect plan went.
“Who’s that?” Clara asked between laughs.
Dusting the snow off his neck, Adam replied, “That’s Collin. Mrs. Thompson’s grandson. Or at least, he used to be …”
Adam wasted no time in racing around the bush as Collin peaked out the other side. A scream filled with excitement ricocheted off the stone side as Adam scooped up the boy and tackled him into a snow pile.
“I give up, I give up!” Collin yelled.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!” Collin burst into a fit of giggles.
Adam helped the boy to his feet. “All right, I’m trusting you.”
“I promise,” he said with a very mischievous smile. “Who’s your friend? She’s pretty.”
Adam playfully pushed him aside. “Slow down, little man. She’s taken. And too old for you.”
“But Uncle Luke says—”
“Don’t listen to Uncle Luke. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. When the time comes, I’ll teach you all you need to know,” he said as he patted Collin on the shoulder. “Collin, I’d like you to meet my friend Clara. Clara, this is Collin.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Collin,” she greeted with an extended hand.
Collin took her hand like a skilled pro and kissed the top of her mitten. “It’s nice to meet you mad-moiselle.”
Adam s
hook his head as Clara laughed. Even at six, the boy knew how to ham it up. With his natural Conroy charm and lessons from Uncle Luke, the boy was going to grow up a ladies’ man.
“Adam, will you help me finish building my snowman?” Collin asked as he walked them over to three huge snowballs. “I wanted to make the biggest snowman ever, but I can’t lift them.”
“I promise to help you as soon as I run inside to get something, okay?”
Clara waved her hand in protest. “What’s the rush? Collin, I would love to help you.”
Collin’s eyes shined as he led Clara over to the beginnings of his snowman. Adam took a moment to watch them. He thought Clara the partier was gorgeous. Clara in red was downright sinful. But watching her now, playing with a child she’d just met and laughing like they were lifelong friends, that was a sight.
The urge to join them won and Adam found himself feeling like a child again. Collin usually had that effect on him, but here with Clara, a whole other feeling took over. He couldn’t explain it.
“You make a pretty good snowman, Adam Beaumont,” Clara said as she sashayed over to him.
He was mesmerized by the mischief in her brown eyes. For a moment, Adam thought she was going to wrap her arms tightly around his neck. He was ready to pull her into him when a handful of icy snow slapped the back of his neck and seeped down his shirt.
Clara laughed loudly as she dove away from Adam’s reach. The minx would pay for her actions, and pay dearly. Collin giggled in the background, collecting his own set of snow to throw.
“You have no clue what you just started,” Adam yelled.
“Bring it on,” she challenged as she giggled with reckless abandonment.
Adam lifted a ball of packed snow over his shoulder, but before he could send it flying, Collin’s own assault smacked him in the back. Turning towards the six-year-old Judas, he yelled, “You traitor!”
Collin squealed with excitement as he ran to Clara’s side for protection. The two darted away, collecting more ammo with haste.
White powder flew in every direction. Adam couldn’t feel his hands but that would not stop him from winning this battle. He chased after the she-devil with new determination. Just as his numb hands reached for her coat, the slick ground took them down.
Tame the Beast (Ever After #1) Page 11
