The atmosphere through the day had been so positive, Stacy couldn’t wait for tomorrow. “Working with you guys has been great.” There was a sense of camaraderie, an openness about the whole process, that set her at ease, and lightened her mood. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am that today went so well.”
Everyone made for the door.
Outside the building, the sky was darkening, but the prospect of being alone with Adam again put her on edge.
“I thought we’d grab dinner in a restaurant on our way home. Unless you’re too tired?” Adam opened the car door for her automatically. “If you’re beat, I have food at home.”
“I’d love to go out.” She glanced down at her jeans. “I’m not really dressed for dinner.”
“You’re fine.” With a smile, he climbed into the car and started the engine. “The place we’re going is casual, but the food is to die for.”
Stacy couldn’t hold back a smile when they arrived at the restaurant a little while later. “Pizza?”
“Still your favorite?”
“Always.” Her love for pizza had been a long running joke between them. They’d been to a couple of industry dinners during their short lived marriage, where she’d picked at the fancy food on offer, and picked up a pizza on the way home.
They were directed to a table in front of large glass windows that faced the sea, and handed menus.
Adam ordered a bottle of wine.
Stacy was so focused on the menu, she didn’t see a young woman approach until she was right next to the table.
The teenager was flushed. “I’m sorry for interrupting, but you’re Stacy Gold, aren’t you?” She clutched a notebook and pen in her hands.
“I am.” Stacy smiled. “Would you like an autograph?”
The girl relaxed. “I really would. You’re my favorite singer. I just love your stuff.”
“What’s your name?”
“Aoife.”
Stacy’s eyes widened. “Eefa? You’re going to have to spell that for me, honey.”
“A O I F E,” the girl spelled slowly.
Stacy dedicated a message, and signed it.
“Could I…” Aoife proffered her cell phone.
“Stacy’s undercover,” Adam said.
Stacy shook her head. She was Aoife’s favorite singer; there was no way she’d refuse a selfie. “It’s fine,” she told Adam. “Come closer, Aoife.” Head to head, they grinned for the shot.
“Thank you so much.” Aoife smiled so wide her face must surely ache.
“No problem.”
Stacy watched the girl bounce back to her table, waving the notebook in triumph to an older couple who must be her parents.
“That’ll be all over the internet by the time we get home,” Adam said.
Other diners had noticed, but no-one else bothered them.
“It doesn’t matter. The secret was bound to escape sometime.” There was no way for her to be anonymous, no matter where she travelled. And watching Aoife show off the selfie to her parents with such obvious happiness was infectious. “She was a nice kid.”
They ordered.
“So today was okay?” Adam asked.
“More than okay. I was really worried about doing the voice over, but everyone was so kind and helpful—they went out of their way to make me feel comfortable.”
“You’re the star.” Their pizzas arrived, and the waitress placed a large green salad between them then left them alone.
“Which is frankly terrifying.” She picked a black olive off the top of her pizza and popped it into her mouth. “My voice over sounded a bit flat, but Christine said when we work on my vocal inflections, it will sound better. I don’t want to delay the other actors by being slow, they’re so professional.”
“Michael and Bill camein today to meet you and give you some pointers, but from here on in it will be just you, Christine and the producer in the studio. She’ll read opposite you, they’ll record your lines, then splice all the parts together in post production.”
Stacy sipped her wine. “So what will you do while I’m recording?”
“This and that.” Adam’s cell phone buzzed. He checked the screen, then ignored it. “Message from my mother.”
“Do you want to check it?”
He shook his head. “I know what she wants.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “She wants me to bring you to meet the family. Don’t worry, that’s not going to happen.”
Stacy’s mood dived. “Why not?”
Adam put down his slice of pizza. “They all want to believe that there is more to us working together than a business arrangement.” His mouth twisted into a wry smile. “I’ve told them they’re mistaken, but my mother is the most romantic woman on the planet. She’s bound to interfere and try to matchmake.”
She took a deep breath. “Well, there is more to us than a business arrangement. I think this morning proved that.”
“Maybe this morning was a mistake.”
“Maybe it wasn’t.” The wine was giving her courage, so she swallowed another mouthful.
*****
Uh-oh. He knew that look. Recognized immediately that gleam in her eye. She’d had a good day, and Stacy’s response to a good day had always been to celebrate. Remembering just exactly what celebrating with Stacy entailed made him feel hot all over. Hot, and acutely aware of every little thing about her. The way she dipped her head and peeked at him from under her lashes, the way she straightened her back and steepled her hands on the table, enhancing her cleavage.
She flicked back her hair and chewed on her bottom lip.
Once upon a time he’d have read ‘take me home to bed’ in that body language, but now he needed to be sure.
So he stretched his legs out under the table, letting the inside of one ankle brush against hers.
She gasped, and at the same moment her eyes widened.
“Do you want some dessert?” He pitched his voice deep, the way she’d often confessed she found sexy as hell. He stared at her mouth.
“I…uh…” She dropped her hands onto the table, and a flush swept into her cheeks. “I don’t think so.”
“Coffee?” He reachedacross the table and covered her hand with his own.
“Maybe we could just get some back at the house.” She flipped her hand and laced her fingers through his.
They left the restaurant still hand in hand, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. When they reached the car, he backed her against the car door, and bracketed her with his arms.
Looking into her eyes, seeing the awareness in their depths wove a connection through his body, deep and familiar. The tip of her tongue touched her top lip. Quick and nervous. Anticipating.
What the hell. He was tired of fighting it. Unable to formulate a reason why he shouldn’t kiss her. His mouth lowered and claimed hers.
She tasted of wine. Of woman. With a sigh, she propelled herself from resting on the car to press her body against his. Her arms rose and urgent fingers speared through his hair.
The kiss deepened. He breathed in the scent of her hair and surrendered to the sensations being so close to her brought alive. Everything faded, except the woman in his arms. When they finally came up for air, both were breathing heavily.
“Let’s go home.”
Hearing her refer to his home as hers felt strange, but right.
With a nod, he opened the door, then walked around the car to climb into the driver’s seat.
She placed a hand on his thigh.
He started the engine.
“So you don’t think I’m plotting revenge anymore?” His voice was soft in the car’s darkened interior.
“No. I reckon whatever’s happening between us is out of both of our controls.”
A wistful smile was on her face. “We should just go with it. See where it takes us.” Her hand stroked the soft fabric of his jeans, and he resisted the urge to rev the accelerator and speed them to his house.
“You�
�re so damned sexy,” she murmured huskily. “I can’t wait to see your new muscles up close and personal.”
His body reacted to her words, and he shifted slightly in the car seat, in a vain attempt to ease the pressure behind his jean’s zipper. “You noticed?” His body had become buffer, harder, due to the boxing regimen he’d adopted to deal with the constant feeling of frustration and anger at the helplessness that had overwhelmed him about their divorce. He’d done everything possible to contact her after she’d frozen him out. He’d written letters, had visited her apartment, but been refused entry by security. He’d even pleaded with Apollo to let him talk to her. The path back from obsession had been a long and tortuous one—if he wasn’t careful, he could fall back into loving her. Wanting her.
The only solution was to indulge this crazy attraction—to feed the beast until it was so sated that she was forever burned out of his system. She was lonely. She needed a man’s arms around her, and there was no other man for the job. The mere thought of Stacy with someone else drove him out of his mind, but when she’d finished the voice over, and it was time for her to return to Nashville, he wouldn’t follow her.
This time he was playing with fire and not getting fried in the process.
“I noticed.”
He shot her a glance. “What?”
“Did you forget I was complimenting your body?” She grinned. “It’s pretty normal to return the favor, you know. You could tell me how smokin’ hot I am.”
“Yeah, as if I’d need to do that,” he teased. “You’ve always been gorgeous, and you know it.”
“Huh.”
“You pouting?” He kept his attention on the road. “I don’t want to tell you how beautiful you are. I want to show you. I want to touch you all over. With my hands, and my lips. I could never forget anything about your body, and the things you like me to do to it. When we get home, I’m replaying every single erotic experience we ever had. And adding some new stuff.”
“New stuff?” Her voice was high and breathy. Turned on.
“New stuff.” He nodded, and gripped the wheel tighter. There were months of fantasy sex to catch up on, and he knew exactly where to start.
“What new stuff?” Her hand stroked the inside of his thigh. “Stuff you did with other women?”
He turned off the main road, down the lane that led to the cottage. “Enough talking.” He slowed the engine, and stared into her eyes. “More action.”
She breathed in. Shifted her hand to press against his cock. “Is that enough action for you?”
He groaned. “It’s a good start. Hold that thought, baby, we’re nearly home.”
With gritted teeth, he turned into the driveway. “Oh, crap.”
Chapter Seven
A navy Volkswagon Golf was parked haphazardly before the front door. The lights were visible inside the house, and the drapes they’d left open were closed.
“My parents.”
His parents? Stacy’s hand shot from the front of her ex-husband’s jeans at the thought of her never met, ex-in-laws. “They’re here? Were you expecting…”
“Of course not.” He cranked open the window and gulped in lungfuls of fresh air. Then patted his pockets to find his cell phone. “There’s a surprise for you at the cottage, hurry home!” he read. “Oh, god.”
“I thought they lived miles away.”
“They do. Knowing Ma, she probably thought since it was Friday, and we’ll not be working this weekend, it would be the perfect time for a surprise visit.”
What on earth would she have to say to two strangers she’d never met? Adam’s parents, who must hate her guts for the way she’d treated their son? A feeling of dread settled in her stomach. Were they here to give her a piece of their minds, in a bitchslap of epic proportions?
“Maybe you should just drive back into town and drop me at a hotel. I don’t want to get in the way of a family reunion.” If his mother was anything like hers, she sure didn’t want to get in the way of any flying plates.
“No. No. That won’t work—they must have seen the lights when we drove in.” As if to prove his theory the front door swung wide and light spilled onto the gravel.
“Adam!” A woman launched herself from the threshold, waving her arms wildly. The smile on her face was so wide, creases bracketed her mouth and made her eyes appear smaller. Before Stacy had even touched the handle, she was at the passenger door, yanking it open. “Stacy. At last!” She flung her arms around Stacy’s body and hugged her tight. “I can’t believe it’s been so long, and we’re only meeting you now.”
A tall, elegant man trailed in her wake. “I’m Ellie, but you know that,” She spoke so fast it was difficult to keep up. “And here’s Dermot, Adam’s father.”
Dermot smiled and nodded. Glanced at his son on the other side of the car. “Come here and give your mother a hug.”
He snagged Adam on route, grabbing him close. Patting his back. Muttering words of welcome.
“Son.” Ellie disentangled from Stacy, and reattached to Adam, like a friendly octopus. “Mohammed wouldn’t come to the mountain, so…”
“So the mountain took the trip.” Adam grinned. “I didn’t know you had a key.”
“Sure, wasn’t it where it always was?” She gestured to the large terracotta pot flanking the front door. “We thought we’d surprise you.”
Adam sneaked a glance at Stacy. Raised his eyebrows, in a way that made her have to stifle a laugh. “You did that.”
“Come in. The kettle’s just been on. I brought cake and a pie. And a good thing too, by the look of your bare cupboards.”
Adam placed his hand on the curve of Stacy’s spine. He hung back, as his parents preceded them into the house, and leaned close to whisper in her ear. “My mother is a force of nature, just go with it.” His fingers crept under the hem of her T-shirt. “I’m damned disappointed not to be alone with you, though.”
Her skin tingled where he touched, and the urge to climb back into the car with him and check into the nearest hotel was almost overpowering. “I wish that too.”
Ellie turned at the doorway with a smile so wide she was almost flashing wisdom teeth. “Come on, you two! I want to hear all the news!”
Force of nature was a good way to describe Ellie Logan. She bustled into the kitchen, flicked on the kettle, and took an apple pie from the oven. The entire house smelled of cinnamon. “Tea? Pie?” She glanced at her husband. “Grab the cream from the fridge, would you, Dermot?” She’d taken over, and Adam seemed content enough to let her.
“Could you carry the tray into the sitting room, Adam?”
“Sure.” He took the tray, jerked his head to Stacy to follow, and left the room.
“She’s just…”
“She’s at home here.” Adam threw a piece of turf onto the fire someone had lit in the grate. “This was her mother’s house. It’s now mine, but this is her first visit, so I guess that hasn’t sunk in yet. Ma’s not great with boundaries, anyway. She says exactly what comes into her head, without filtering it first. She’ll probably ask you all sorts of questions you really don’t want to answer, so if that happens, just change the subject. She’ll get the hint.”
The door pushed open, and Adam’s dad walked in, carrying the pie and cream. “I told her we should have waited. Or at least let you know we were coming. But you know your mother.”
“I know,” Adam said.
“When she spoke to you during the week, and you said you couldn’t come visit at the weekend, she started fretting. She just couldn’t wait to see you any longer.” Dermot cast an apologetic glance at Stacy. “And you’ve only just arrived—you must be exhausted.”
“I got a good night’s sleep last night.”
“We’re only staying the night. If that’s okay with you, Adam.” Dermot placed the pie on the coffee table. “I’ll drag her away in the morning.”
“There’s no need to rush off. Why don’t we get lunch in the pub tomorrow, then you can drive back
in daylight, and stop off somewhere on the way for coffee. It’s a long enough drive.”
The door opened again, and Ellie came in with the teapot. “So, what are we talking about?”
“Plans for tomorrow.” Dermot filled her in.
“I’m sorry for visiting without warning.” Ellie’s gaze connected with Stacy’s and held. “But I just couldn’t bear not seeing Adam for another week. He’s been in the country for weeks now, and hasn’t made it home. And after he’s spent all those years in America, I was desperate.”
“It’s okay, Ma.” Adam poured tea. “Cut the pie.” A corner of his mouth pulled into a half smile. “Stacy, you’ll never have tasted such good pie, it’s Ma’s specialty.”
“Ah, now,” Ellie chided. “I’m sure Stacy’s mother makes pie every bit as good.”
“Uh…”
Adam jumped in before she could continue. “Stacy’s parents are dead. She has no other family.”
Ellie let out a shocked gasp. “I’m so sorry, dear, I had no idea.”
“She wasn’t one for making pie.” With a tight smile, Stacy tried to lighten the situation. “What’s in it? Apple?”
“Apple and blackberry, they’re in season at the moment.” Ellie took Stacy’s lead, and shifted away from the sensitive subject.
Adam passed her a plate and spoon, and settled next to her on the sofa. His thigh brushed against hers, and he rested his arm on the back of the sofa behind her. “So what’s new with everyone?”
She knew what he was doing. His body heat diffused the inches between them and his whole manner was protective and supportive. Adam had always been like that. Always been there for her. She wanted nothing more than to lean into him, to feel his fingers curve around her shoulder and be held close.
But they weren’t alone, and giving in to the urge would only make things more complicated. Would send the wrong message to his parents. So instead, she obediently ate pie and agreed that it really was the best pie she’d ever eaten.
Stealing Gold (The Logan Series Book 4) Page 6
