“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Teach,” Maddy told him. “Are you any relation to Blackbeard the Pirate?”
“Yes, indeed, ma’am. And proud of it,” the bell captain replied. “Every family should have at least one black sheep.”
“Shad, Mr. and Mrs. Hopewell are in room 215,” Liz said.
Maddy looked around. “But where’s our luggage?”
“It’s already upstairs in your suite, Mrs. Hopewell. If you’d care to follow me…” Teach gestured to-ward the curving staircase.
Liz Jermain watched the threesome cross the lobby. Her efficient but noncommittal hotel-manager smile stayed firmly in place until the guests reached the stairs, but as soon as she was certain they were out of earshot, her smile disappeared.
“Where’s Tom?” she demanded without looking at the clerk beside her. “Is he in the security office?”
“I don’t think so,” Moira replied. “I saw him leave the Fortress about twenty minutes ago.”
“Well, if he’s not there, he could be anywhere,” Liz noted. “Page him for me and tell him I want him in my office immediately.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Liz cast’one last glance at the staircase just as Shad led the new guests across the second-floor landing into the central corridor. Her hotel had a new security chief operating from an office appropriately known as the Fortress, an upgraded surveillance system and employees who were being trained in security measures. If what she’d been told about Madeline Hopewell was true, Bride’s Bay was going to need all of that—and more—to keep its newest guest alive.
Refusing to give in to the apprehension gnawing at her, Liz turned on her heel and disappeared back into her office to wait for her chief of security.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE SUITE the bell captain led Maddy and Adam to was magnificent, no question about it. The sitting room was late Victorian in style, its furnishings a combination of authentic antiques and excellent reproductions, with a richly hued Turkish carpet occupying the center of the hardwood floor.
Shadroe Teach pointed out the fully stocked bar standing in one corner and the Hepplewhite secretary in the other. When he reached the French windows, which were framed by hunter green velvet drapes, he pulled back the sheers and threw open the doors to the balcony.
“As you can see, this is a corner suite, and it offers a little more privacy than some of our other rooms,” Teach said as he stepped onto the balcony. Maddy followed him with Adam right behind her and discovered a long, wide, shady veranda that did, in fact, offer considerable privacy. A jungle of tropical palms and ferns formed a seemingly impenetrable wall to the left, separating Maddy and Adam’s balcony from the one next door.
When she stepped around the corner to the right Maddy discovered another bank of plants that almost but not quite camouflaged the blank wall that marked the junction between the north wing and the main house. The centerpiece of the balcony was a pair of cushioned fan-backed chairs and a glass-topped table of wrought iron that matched the iron railing.
Impressed, Maddy stepped to the railing and discovered a magnificent garden spread out below her. A formal rose garden flowed into a labyrinthine maze. A fountain stood in the center of the rose garden, and here and there was a stone bench.
“Oh, this is wonderful. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” she breathed.
The bell captain heard the compliment. “Thank you, Mrs. Hopewell,” he said. “The Judge prides himself on having the most beautiful gardens in the. Carolinas year round, but he’s particularly proud of them at this time of year, what with the roses at their peak.”
Maddy turned to him. “The Judge?”
“Judge Cameron Bradshaw,” Teach expounded. “He’s the husband of Miz Elizabeth, the owner of Bride’s Bay. The Judge retired over ten years ago, but you wouldn’t know it by how hard he works in the gardens. He doesn’t allow anyone to touch his roses.”
Maddy couldn’t quite cover her surprise. “The hotel manager we met downstairs is married to a retired judge?”
“No, Maddy,” Adam replied. “Liz Jermain is the granddaughter of the resort’s owner, Elizabeth Jermain.”
“That’s right,” Teach said as he turned and unlocked a second set of French doors. “If you’d care to move on now, I’ll show you the rest of the suite. This is the master bedroom, of course.” He threw open the double doors and stepped inside.
Adam was politely waiting for Maddy to precede him, so she tore herself away from the magnificent view of the gardens and followed the bell captain into the bedroom.
Like everything else she’d seen at Bride’s Bay, the room was picture perfect, with a ceiling fan, planted palms, two more fan-backed chairs and a king-size bed draped in mosquito netting. It was very old-fashioned, decidedly tropical—and unabashedly romantic.
That impression was dramatically highlighted when Maddy realized that all their suitcases—both Adam’s and her own—were sitting at the foot of the bed, making a bold statement about an intimacy Maddy had been doing her best to avoid even thinking about.
“Adam—” she began, but he was already one step ahead of her.
“I believe there’s been a mistake, Mr. Teach,” he said. “I asked for a two-bedroom suite.”
If the bell captain had an opinion about married couples sleeping in separate rooms he was too experienced to show it. “Yes, sir. The second room is through here, on the other side of the dressing room,” Teach said, throwing open the door on the far wall.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Maddy followed the bell captain across the room, eager to leave the luxurious tropical bedroom and its implications behind.
Unfortunately her imagination wasn’t being cooperative. Unable to stop herself, she paused to take one last look at the romantic room and saw a sudden flash of it under other circumstances: the bedclothes thrown back and hopelessly rumpled; her clothes and Adam’s strewn across the room as though they’d been shed in a great hurry; she and Adam on that rumpled bed, locked in a heated embrace.
The image was so vivid that for a moment Maddy felt certain it was a memory, but despite the flush of heat that swept through her, there were no other memories or emotions accompanying it.
The graphic vision of Adam making love to her wasn’t a memory; it was a fantasy.
Her disappointment at that realization was profound—but only because it meant her memory wasn’t returning. At least, that was what she tried to tell herself. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that remembering how much she’d loved Adam would lower all the barriers she’d erected against falling in love with him now.
Turning away from the room and those thoughts, Maddy hurried after Adam and Teach, moving through a spacious dressing room and past the door to the bathroom to emerge into the second bedroom. Though Maddy was undeniably relieved that there was a second room, she wasn’t impressed with the decor. It was pretty but unimaginative, very feminine in tone, with lots of frills and lace and pink roses. That might not have been so bad if there’d been windows to let in natural light and carry the almost oppressive rose theme outside to the garden, but that wasn’t the case. There was only the door that connected the rose room to the master bedroom and another that sat around a corner, presumably leading back to the sitting room.
“Is this satisfactory, sir?” the bell captain asked once Adam and Maddy had both had a chance to view the room.
“It’s perfect,” Adam declared. “Thank you.”
“If you’ll tell me which luggage you’d like moved into this room, I’ll—”
Adam shook his head, cutting him off. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Teach. I’ll take care of it myself.”
“Very well, sir.” Teach stepped around the corner and opened the other door. Maddy followed him and found herself in a tiny corridor with the door to the master bedroom directly opposite. A tall archway to the left led them back into the sitting room, completing a big circle—and their tour.
While Adam than
ked the bell captain verbally and monetarily, Maddy moved toward the French doors. By the time she reached them, Teach was gone, and Maddy was finally alone with her husband. There was no Dr. Manion to intervene, no nurses to interrupt, no guards waiting just outside the door.
Just Maddy and Adam.
Alone.
Maddy suddenly felt as nervous as a bride on her wedding night. Remnants of her bedroom fantasy still sizzled inside her, and she had to sternly remind herself that this wasn’t a honeymoon. Adam had already proved that he had no intention of pressing her for intimacy until she was ready, and Maddy was absolutely, one-hundred-percent certain that she was not. ready. Being attracted to Adam didn’t mean she trusted him enough to share a bed with him.
“Well, do you like the suite?” Adam asked her.
When Maddy turned and found that he had stayed on the other side of the room, she wondered if he, too, was nervous. “It’s beautiful, Adam. Thank you for bringing me.”
“It was your idea—originally,” he reminded her.
Maddy nodded. “I guess that’s true, but a considerable amount of water has passed under the bridge since then.”
He quirked one eyebrow. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“Adam…?” Her question hung suspended in the air while Maddy debated whether or not to ask.
“What?” he prompted.
“Did we…Was this the room where we spent our honeymoon?”
“No. Our room was downstairs. Why? Have you seen something familiar?” he asked hopefully.
Maddy shook her head. “No. Absolutely not.”
Adam frowned at her vehemence, but didn’t question it. Instead, he cleared his throat and stepped toward the archway that provided access to both bedrooms. “Listen, why don’t I put your things into the rose room and you can lie down and get—”
“Whoa, there! Wait a minute, big fella,” Maddy said, moving around the sofa toward him. “Who decided you get the gorgeous tropical paradise with the sunset exposure and a view of the garden while I get the windowless dungeon?” she demanded to know even though she wasn’t really sure she wanted the bedroom that had already evoked such a sexy image of her and Adam together. But on the other hand, she was getting tired of the way Adam made decisions without bothering to consult her. It was time to make a stand.
“Maddy, the smaller bedroom is hardly a dungeon,” Adam argued. “And the reason you should take it is obvious.”
“Not to me,” she countered. “Please elaborate.”
“All right,” he said, his tone deadly earnest. “The rose room has no exterior access to the balcony, which means that if someone wants to get to you, they’ll have to go through me to do it. And I promise you, Maddy, no one will get past me.” He turned and disappeared through the archway.
Maddy just stood there, stunned. He was absolutely serious. She was certain of it. The protection her husband had promised wasn’t limited to bodyguards and high-security hotels. He was more than willing to put his own life on the line to keep her safe, and there was no bravado in his promise. He believed he could do it—and instinct told Maddy that she should believe it, too. Her husband was a dangerous man.
But where did an antiquities broker acquire such macho confidence? As she listened to the sound of Adam moving her luggage from the master bedroom, through the dressing room and into the smaller one, Maddy realized just how much she still didn’t know about her husband.
“Maddy, I feel certain that if Dr. Manion was here he’d tell you it’s time for you to rest,” Adam said as he came back through the arch, this time from the direction of the rose room. “This is the most activity you’ve had in quite a long time.”
Like Dr. Manion, Adam didn’t know about the exercise regimen Maddy had prescribed for herself, but he was right in one respect. Her strength wasn’t anywhere near normal—whatever that might be—and she was already exhausted even though the day wasn’t half over yet.
Though she hated being told what to do, arguing with Adam just for the sake of arguing would have been pointless. Instead, she decided to barter. “If I take a nap like a good girl, can we explore the island this afternoon? There has to be something around here that’ll jog my memory.”
“I’m anxious to test that, too,” he answered. “You get some rest and we’ll start with a short walking tour after lunch.”
Maddy cocked her head to one side. “And in the meantime, you’ll go downstairs and meet with the hotel manager?”
“Yes.”
“Would you care to tell me why?”
He didn’t look as though he wanted to answer, but he did. “I have some security considerations I want to discuss with her.”
“Such as?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
His answer was tantamount to waving a red cape in front of a bull. “I beg your pardon?” she gasped. “Look, mister, I don’t know what our marriage was like before, but I’m not going to play ‘the little woman’ for you or any other man. I refuse to be dismissed with a pat on the head, a smile and a condescending—” she lowered her voice dramatically and propped her hands on her hips “—‘don’t worry your pretty little head, honey, this is man’s work’!”
Adam bit back a smile. “That’s not what I’m doing, Maddy, I promise you. I’m sorry if it appeared that way. But I swore I’d make sure you’re safe and I’m just trying to keep that promise. Do you want to go downstairs to Ms. Jermain’s office with me?”
The stubborn, independent part of Maddy wanted to say, “Yes, definitely,” but the part that was still recovering from an attempt on her life was demanding somewhat insistently that she get some rest. She’d already seen enough of the resort’s security precautions to know she was safe for the moment. There would be plenty of time later to check out the details for herself.
“No, you go on alone,” she said after a moment. “I’ll lock up the balcony doors and get some rest.”
Adam smiled at her. “You rest. I’ll lock up.”
She started to tell him she was perfectly capable of locking a couple of doors, but she suddenly felt too drained to assert her independence. “All right,” she acquiesced, heading for the rose room. “Will you wake me about one?”
“Of course. And I’ll have lunch waiting for you on our balcony when you get up. If that meets with your approval,” he added with exaggerated deference.
“That would be lovely.”
“Rest well, darling.”
“I will.” She slipped through the hall and closed the door to her room, throwing it into shadows because the only light source came from the other bedroom. She switched on the lamp on the night table, then folded back the bedclothes on the old-fashioned four-poster and lay down without bothering to remove her dress.
She turned off the light, but despite her exhaustion, she forced herself to remain alert, listening to the sounds of Adam moving about until she finally heard him leave the suite. Then she got out of bed and returned to the sitting room. She checked the French doors to be certain they were locked, then performed the same ritual in Adam’s bedroom. Once she was certain she was secure, she returned to her bed in the rose room, removed her trusty nail file from the pocket of her sundress and slipped it under her pillow.
“I’ve gotta get a better weapon,” she murmured as she drifted off to sleep with the stiletto-tipped file clutched in her hand. Macho husband or not, Maddy was a long way from trusting anyone.
THOMAS GRAVES took the front stairs two at a time and hurried through the hotel lobby. Nothing about the message he’d just received summoning him to Liz Jermain’s office indicated that there was an emergency, but the fifty-one-year-old security specialist had been running at maximum speed since the day he’d taken this job, and it didn’t appear he was going to be able to slow down anytime soon.
He was spending every waking moment solving the problems he’d inherited from his predecessor, whipping the staff into shape, installing new equipment and instituting new security
measures. And in his spare time, he was taking care of little details like preparing for a presidential visit and providing added security for a woman being stalked by a killer.
He didn’t have time to waste even a minute, but his new boss wouldn’t have demanded his presence if it wasn’t important. She was a tough, fair-minded woman who’d earned his respect early on by making some difficult decisions and sticking to them even though it meant opposing her grandmother, Elizabeth Jermain. The old woman hadn’t seen the need for some of the high-tech security measures Tom had recommended, but Liz had stood up to the iron-willed dowager and eventually won.
Tom had been here long enough to know that anyone who could stand toe-to-toe with Miz Elizabeth deserved lots of respect, and Liz Jermain had his.
When he slipped behind the reservation desk and saw that Liz’s door was ajar he rapped twice before sticking his head in. “You wanted to see me, Boss Lady?”
Despite her concern, Liz had to smile at the nickname for her that seemed to have cropped up recently. “Yes, I did, Tom. Come in, shut the door and have a seat,” she said, laying aside a stack of photographs she hadn’t been able to concentrate on. Selecting pictures for a new set of Bride’s Bay postcards wasn’t high on her priority list today. Her smile faded as Tom dropped into one of the two chairs on the other side of her desk. “The Hopewells just arrived, Tom. I hope you’ve got all your ducks in a row on this one.”
“I’m as ready as I can be, Liz,” he replied with a shrug. “The added security is going to cost Mr. Hopewell a small fortune, but I’ve provided everything he asked for—including two bodyguards.”
“Good. Because he made it clear that money is no object,” she reminded him. “Have you told Dan Luther about Mrs. Hopewell yet?”
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