A Scandalous Affair

by Donna Hill

  She sighed. “I don’t know what threw me the most today, the face-off with my mother or Simone nearly getting killed by some maniac.” She shuddered. “How was she when you dropped her off at the studio?”

  “Quiet.”

  “Hmm. That’s sis all right. Holds everything close to the chest. I’ll call her in the morning. I’m sure she must be exhausted.”

  “Did she…mention to you that Adam no longer worked for her?”

  Samantha sat up, readjusting the curl of her legs. “When did that happen?”

  “Don’t know…have no idea about the details. Today, I guess. They were together just last night.”

  As if on cue, the ramifications of what his words really meant took hold and they looked at each other. Neither spoke anything out loud, but their thoughts were as plain as writing on the wall. Something had happened between Simone and Adam last night, and whatever occurred had somehow backfired in the morning.

  “Damn,” Samantha muttered. She hopped up from the couch and went to the phone. What happened? She had to know. Before Chad could say a word, she’d speed-dialed Simone’s house. Her sister groggily answered on the second ring.

  “Monie…it’s me. You okay?”

  “Yesss. Fine.” She blinked, trying to clear her head. The painkillers and hot soak had kicked in with a vengeance. “Wh-what’s wrong?”

  “That’s what I was calling to find out. Chad told me about Adam.”

  “Adam?” She tried to focus. How did Sam know she’d slept with Adam, gave herself to Adam, let down her defenses with Adam—that Adam said he loved her? Would Samantha claim Adam as her own as well? “What about Adam?” she snapped, her thoughts in disarray.

  Samantha kept her voice calm. “Chad said Adam doesn’t work for you anymore. Is that true?”

  Her head pounded. She tried to make sense of what Samantha was saying. All her thoughts kept tumbling over each other. Nothing made sense. Yes, she’d fired Adam…but she was wrong…wasn’t she? She tried to sit up. She had to get him back. Tell him to come back. He’d been there earlier…he loved her. She’d left him on the porch. Maybe he was still there. Yes, on the porch, in the rain.

  “Simone, do you need me to come over? Are you okay?”

  She finally sat up. Her head spun wildly and her stomach lurched. She dropped the phone, stumbled to the bathroom and threw some cold water on her face. Her head slowly began to clear. Was she making sense? What in the world had she been saying to Samantha?

  Gingerly she walked back to where she’d dropped the phone. “Hello, Sam…”

  “What is going on?” Samantha’s voice hinged on panic. She’d been a heartbeat away from darting out the door.

  “Girl, this medicine is kicking my butt…thought I was hallucinating for a minute.”

  “You okay? I can be there in a minute.”

  “No, really, I’m fine. Just a little woozy. Can we talk…tomorrow?” She yawned loudly.

  Samantha smiled, relief easing the knot in her stomach. “Sure. Are you up to going in to the office tomorrow?”

  “I’ll call you. Maybe we can meet over here.” Her lids were growing heavy again. She needed to lie back down.

  “Sure. Chad is about ready to put the final touches on the deposition to file in court.”

  “Hmm…”

  “You get some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “’Kay.”

  “’Night, sis.” Samantha laughed lightly and hung up the phone.

  Within moments, Simone’s eyes were closed and the heavy veil of sleep descended over her. She never heard the downstairs door open, then gently close.

  Chapter 32

  Chad went through the house, making sure that all the windows and doors were locked, then returned to the living room. He smiled, looking at Samantha dozing like a satisfied cat on the couch. He was tempted to leave her there, let her sleep, but knew she’d feel like she’d been beat up in the morning from sleeping in such an awkward position

  He knelt down in front of her and gently pushed her hair away from her face. She looked so innocent—so tempting. The other night flashed in his head, seeing her nude body glistening in the moonlight…

  Her lashes fluttered and she looked at him through partially opened lids. Her mouth spread into a slow, soft smile. “Conked out on you, huh?” she said in that sexy voice filled with the smoky residue of sleep. She stroked his cheek lightly with the tip of a manicured nail.

  A sudden, intense sensation shot through him like an overdose of adrenaline, and the steady pulse of his erection throbbed like a second heartbeat. His face heated. He couldn’t get up. Not like this. “You were tired,” he mumbled. He sat on the floor and brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. Think about trucks, he silently repeated, using his magic mental trick to make his passion subside.

  “What are we going to do, Chad?”

  “About what?”

  “Us.” She looked at him intently. “I really want to know. I want to know if there’s a chance for us, not some bull, but something substantial.” She pulled herself into a sitting position. “You don’t have to tell me what went on between you and Simone. Actually, I don’t want to know. It’s the past, it’s ancient history. What I do want to know is, can you get past it? Can you move on? Is there something you need to do, so we can be? If there is, then I want you to do that. Whatever it means.”

  She stood, walked to the mantel, cupped her hand behind the flickering light and blew out the flame. Turning to him, she said, “I want to be with you…in every sense of the word. But I’m not going to be a substitute for anyone, not even my sister—especially my sister. I deserve more than that and so do you. It’s killing me you being here, night after night, right in the next room.” She laughed, not unkindly. “Too much true confessions?” She ducked her head for a moment, then challenged him again. “It’s on you, Chad. I know I’m worth it. You just need to figure it out. Good night,” she whispered and walked slowly up the stairs.

  Stunned by her ultimatum, Chad lay stretched out on the couch, hands clasped behind his head, staring intensely up at the ceiling. Samantha was right. Until he could correct what went wrong between him and Simone, he’d never be able to fully turn himself, his soul, his heart, over to anyone, no matter how powerful the physical attraction. What was it that still bound him and Simone together after all this time? What was the glue? Why couldn’t he seem to forget that night, as she had, and get on with his life?

  He knew he cared for Samantha, cared about her deeply—and could easily grow to love her—if he allowed her into his heart. If. He’d never been a man to do anything halfway. Nothing. Not in his professional life and certainly not in his personal life. And perhaps that’s what plagued him about Simone. There was no closure, no resolution. They were incomplete. And that was what prohibited him from allowing Samantha to become a part of his world—his inability, at this time, to give all of himself. Samantha understood that, maybe even better than he did.

  He’d work it out. For his sake, as well as Simone’s. Samantha was right. She deserved better and he was determined to make sure she got it. She was worth it.

  He threw his legs over the side of the couch and went upstairs to the shower.

  Maybe she was dreaming, but it was a sweet dream. She felt as if she were cocooned in a cottony quilt, surrounded by warmth and protection. A warm hand moved slowly up along her thigh, gentle and soothing, across her hip, and came to rest on her waist. She breathed in deeply, but couldn’t get her eyes to open. Didn’t want to, the dream was so comforting. She wanted to burrow deeper into it.

  Fingertips flicked across her nipples and a bolt of desire shot straight down between her legs. She heard a moan. It was hers. A tingle behind her neck, light as a night breeze. A feathery caress across her stomach. A hot tongue lingering at her breast. A slow massage of palms and fingers along the contours of her spine and thighs. That low moan again. Her eyelids were so heavy…pushing them open…dark…on
ly the light from the lamp lights. A warmth, full and heavy, next to her. She moved toward it, drawn by its muscular pull.

  “How did you get in?” Her voice was thick and slurred. The room became clearer. His image outlined against the backdrop of night.

  Both of them merged in a quick, blurring burst of passion and desire. In the hazy realm of half sleep, the netherworld of consciousness and slumber, she felt the weight move above her, around her, inside her. She welcomed it, embraced it and was filled by it. Ecstasy came to her in full force, in its complete dimension, just as she raised her head to recognize her seducer. He was not an incubus, but a man, flesh and blood.

  “No questions, not now,” the dreamy voice of Adam whispered in her ear, before he flicked a tongue along its rim. “I don’t ever want you to wake up alone—” he moved deep and slow “—again.”

  Chad found Samantha in the kitchen, a towel draped around her neck, the remnants of sweat still evident around her hairline and down the bridge of her nose. A big wet spot filled the center of her chest, and he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the rise and fall of her breasts beneath the electric blue Lycra tank top.

  “Mornin’,” she said, a bit winded, and gulped down half a glass of orange juice without taking a breath. “Didn’t want to wake you when I went on my run.” She finished off the juice.

  “Sam, you’ve got to remember things aren’t like they used to be. Somebody’s out there who wants to do you harm. Look at what happened the other night. Look what just happened to your sister. You don’t want protection, but as long as I’m here, I’m all you got. So at least let me know when you’re going out of the house.”

  She gave him a stiff military salute. “Yes, sir!”

  He tried not to laugh. “This isn’t funny, Sam. This is for real.”

  “Yes, sir!” She remained at attention.

  “All right, all right, make jokes.”

  Samantha relaxed and put her hand on her hip, her lower body covered in the identical fabric as the top, giving her a long, sleek look. “Simone called me this morning.”

  “I must have really been out. I didn’t hear a thing.”

  “Yeah, some great bodyguard you make.”

  “Hey, what do you expect for these prices. You fill my body up with wine and my head with all sorts of things I need to work out. Takes a lot out of a brother.”

  “Yeah, right,” she said sarcastically. “Anyway, she sounded…happy.”

  He had a confused look on his face.

  “You know…happy.”

  “Hey, great. She must be feeling better.” He walked to the fridge and pulled the door open, conveniently blocking him from Samantha’s view.

  Samantha rested her hip against the counter. She wanted to push it, wanted to get a rise out of him, tell him that Adam was there, had been there all night from what she could tell. She didn’t, but she told him about the arrangements instead.

  “She said she won’t be going in to her office for the next few days. I told her we’d meet her at her house after we stop by my office and pick up everything we need.”

  “What about your father?” He closed the refrigerator door, his hands coming up empty.

  “Called him. He said he couldn’t get there before noon, but to get started.”

  “Fine. I better get dressed.” He walked out of the room.

  Samantha watched him and wondered how the rest of the day would pan out now that the seed of intimacy between Simone and Adam was planted. It would be interesting to watch. At some point, Chad was going to have to come to grips with what he planned to do about the two of them, and if a little push from her was necessary, then so be it.

  She went to the front door, hoping that the paper had finally arrived. The delivery boy was late on the first decent day of weather they’d had all week. Go figure. She pulled open the door and was happy to find the paper rolled and in its usual spot on the bottom step. She went down to retrieve it and immediately snapped it open to the front page as she walked back inside.

  The headline stopped her cold.

  Chapter 33

  Like morning dew, the lingering effects of the unexpected late-night tryst with Adam still clung to her welltended body. Almost purring, she slid out of bed, surprised that the aches and stiffness had diminished considerably. The aroma of brewing coffee and the muffled voices from the downstairs television filtered teasingly upstairs. Simone smiled, catlike. Lovemaking certainly has its merits.

  He’d been so gentle with her last night, she recalled, heading dreamily toward the bathroom, treating her as if she were the finest piece of china, and repeating over and over again how sorry he was, how he would never do anything to hurt her, that he loved her.

  “Hmm.” She breathed in deeply, stepping beneath the waters. Love. It was a big word, a life-altering word. Did she love Adam, too? If she had to ask herself, maybe she didn’t, but she believed she would—given the time. This…this whole thing between them was so new. She was still getting adjusted to the idea. She let the water slide over her tender body, lathering the bruised skin with scented burberry soap.

  True, they’d known each other for years, traveled in the same circles, and yes, he was good-looking, intelligent, fun to be with, determined and an incredible lover. But love? She’d never allowed her mind to entertain the idea until now.

  “Simone!”

  She slid open the shower door and listened.

  “Simone!”

  “Yes,” she shouted over the water.

  “Hurry. You need to see this.”

  Wrapped in a white terry-cloth robe, Simone sat with an expression of worry and outrage creasing her face.

  Staring back at her and countless households across the district, her opponent, the incumbent Vincent McCall, was holding media court at his local D.C. office. He was glibly telling everyone present that Simone’s car accident was no more than an elaborate publicity stunt to gain sympathy votes for a losing candidate, buttressed by her rabble-rousing sister’s allegations of personal threats and alleged break-ins. “Councilwoman Montgomery’s only platform has been to criticize the police of this district who are keeping her and you safe. I ask you—would you rather make a mistake and have just one of these criminals who sell drugs to your children, break into your homes, or shoot up your neighborhoods on the loose because the police were too intimidated by rhetoric to do their jobs? Or would you rather offend a few people for the benefit of many?”

  Simone pointed the remote and made him disappear. “I should have known he’d pull something like this,” she said with disgust.

  “If I were still your press secretary, I’d prepare a statement.”

  She looked up at him and caught the smirk on his face. “Very funny.” To be truthful, after last night, she’d completely forgotten she’d told him to beat it. Now she’d have to eat her words and face the staff with her misstep. She was a big girl. She could handle it.

  “Consider yourself reinstated,” she said, easily switching into business mode. “We can’t let too much time go by and allow this to sink into folks’ heads.”

  “Exactly.”

  The phone rang. Adam crossed to the end table and to Simone’s amazement picked up her phone! But before she could react, he casually handed it to her, and she realized just how hard it was for her to trust.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled. “Hello?”

  “Have you read today’s paper?” Samantha demanded to know the instant she heard her sister’s voice on the phone.

  “No, but it can’t be any worse than what’s on television. Hold on a sec.” She covered the mouthpiece. “It’s Sam. She says the paper is littered with the same stuff. Would you mind checking to see if ours arrived yet?”

  Adam nodded, ducked outside and quickly returned, his brow knitted in a frown as he scanned the contents of the personal attack. “We can’t waste any time, Simone,” he reemphasized, tossing the paper onto the couch, then following suit.

  “Not too bad to
day,” Simone was saying. “Slept pretty good, actually.” She glanced across the room at Adam and grinned. “No, I’m not going in today. Probably not for a couple of days at least. Sure, come by here. See you then.” She hung up and turned her attention to Adam, who seemed as comfortable lounging on her couch at 6:00 a.m. as if it were an everyday occurrence.

  “Well…what words of wisdom are you going to have me espouse today?”

  “I’m thinking,” he said, stretching, then following it with a yawn. “Don’t worry. I’ll have something for you within the hour.” He stood and looked back at her. “Samantha and Chad coming over?”

  Simone nodded. “She said after one. You know I have the Cathy Hughes show to do this morning. Then I have to get to the BET studio by six.”

  “Then I better get busy. I’m sure we’ll have much more to talk about by the time they get here. We still haven’t discussed your speech for the fundraiser that the Women Against Violence are sponsoring for you next week at the Hilton.”

  She shut her eyes and sighed heavily. “I’d totally put that out of my mind.”

  “That’s why you have a staff, babe, to help you remember. I’ll give Pam a call and bring her up to date.”

  Simone frowned. “At this hour?”

  He hesitated an instant. “Hey, knowing Pam, I’m sure she’s up.” He laughed lightly. “And if not, I’ll just have to wake her.” He headed for Simone’s study.

  Simone shook off the sudden, odd sensation, attributing it to all the stress, and went back upstairs to get ready for her interview.

  Pamela was busy in Simone’s kitchen putting together a plate of snacks. They’d been at it for hours and everyone was starved. The only real break had come when she’d accompanied Simone to tape her television interview for the talk show. Now it was near midnight and there didn’t seem to be any letup in sight.

  Wearily, she returned to the living room and set the tray on the coffee table that was already littered with empty coffee mugs and cans of soda, whatever was needed to give that extra lift. The crackers and sandwiches were gone in minutes.