by Neesa Hart
Her body went pliant against him, but she still didn’t give him the response he wanted. Slowly, he lifted his head. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel it. I saw it in your eyes today.” He swept a hand along her spine. “I can feel it in the way you respond to me.”
August’s breath came in soft pants. The flush on her face, the confusion in her eyes, made him frown. “This is happening so fast,” she told him. “I hardly know you.”
“But you want me.” He pressed his lower body against her. “And I want you. You’ve got to know that.”
“I’m sure, in your experience, that lots of women—”
He intercepted her thought process before it completed the circuit. “Hold on,” he said. He moved his hands to her waist, then flexed his fingers to make her sit still. Every time she squirmed, he died a little inside, but he wasn’t going to let her retreat in fear. She’d already shared so much with him today, he didn’t dare let her pull away. “I want to clear this up right now. I’m not going to pretend that I’m inexperienced, but I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of Lothario, either.”
“What am I supposed to think? I’ve only known you a few days, and you’re already trying to maneuver me into bed.”
“Do you want to know the truth, or do you just want to jump to conclusions?”
“I know I sound like a prude to you, but I, well, I’m not used to all this innuendo.” She paused before admitting, “You’re making me nervous.”
That pleased him more than it should have. Slowly, he reached for her hand. “August, I want you to listen to me for a minute.”
“Is this the part where you tell me that there have been hundreds of women but none of them meant anything?”
He frowned at her. “There have not been hundreds of women.”
“Dozens, then.”
“Not even dozens.”
“Am I supposed to believe that?”
“I know I’ve come on to you pretty strong.” At her brief snort, he conceded, “All right, really strong, but I don’t make a habit of doing that.”
“No?”
Her voice was so soft, he couldn’t tell whether she believed him or not. “No. Contrary to popular opinion, it is not the practice of every red-blooded American male to sleep with every woman he encounters.”
“Half the women?” she asked.
He almost believed she was teasing him. “Not even ten percent.”
“That’s not what they told us in school.”
“I’ll bet you went to Catholic school, didn’t you?”
“Our Lady of Virtue just to name one,” she said.
He groaned. “I should have known.”
August shifted on the porch swing to look at him more closely. “I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I think you’re some kind of womanizer.”
He raised an eyebrow at that. “Don’t you?”
“No. It’s just because this—” She made an absent gesture between them. “It’s happening so fast. It’s overwhelming me. I’m worried about the boys. I’m stressed about Odelia, and now this. It’s a little more than I can handle all at once.. I’ve never been through anything like this.”
“Neither have I,” he said.
Her eyes widened. He wished he could decipher her expression. “But surely you—” She trailed off.
“I’ve got a healthy enough sex drive, if that’s what you mean. Hell, you of all people ought to know that. But it’s not like I’d hop into bed with some woman just because she was available.”
“Never?”
He felt a twinge of irritation. “No. I’m not going to lie and tell you I’ve had nothing but meaningful relationships, because I haven’t. I’ve never had a meaningful relationship. What I’ve had are arrangements between two mutually agreeable adults. Safe, clean, and protected.”
“I wasn’t inferring that you were irresponsible.”
He ignored her. “Despite what you might think, I haven’t even lost count. I know exactly how many women Five slept with.”
“A laudable accomplishment.”
“Maybe they’ll put that on my tombstone.” August’s relenting laugh was soft, a gentle caress on the night air. She turned to watch the stars. “I’m sorry I can’t be more blast about this. It’s just that I don’t know how to handle it. You’re so…so…you. You’re Zack Adriano, world-famous defense attorney, protector of the innocent. I mean, you’re even a celebrity since that shooting incident. As mayor, I probably ought to give you the key to the town. But I’m the vet and part-time mayor in Keegan’s Bend, Virginia. I know you think I’m terribly unsophisticated. Let’s face it, I’m not in your league.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think you’re unsophisticated,” he said. “I think you’re August Trent, and you’re in a league of your own.”
“I couldn’t just sleep with a man I didn’t care about.”
He could tell the admission embarrassed her. He reached up to run his thumb along the line of her cheek. “I’m glad. I like you more because I know that.” He realized, with something of a start, that it was true. Shaken, he turned the idea over in his head. Yes, definitely yes. Always before, he’d never particularly wanted his lovers to care for him, not in any real sense. Caring meant commitment. Zack didn’t give commitments. But watching August with her kids, seeing the look in her sea-green eyes when she told him the story of her past, had started to thaw something in the region of his heart. He was increasingly afraid that he was rediscovering his soul, and equally powerless to do anything about it.
“So what are we going to do?” August asked him.
He gave her a light kiss. Deliberately, he made sure it was dramatically different from the first one they’d shared. There was nothing sexual in it. He lingered over the full curve of her mouth before he raised his head. “We’re going to spark.”
“What?”
“Spark. Isn’t that what people do in this part of the world?” The idea absolutely amazed him. He found himself simultaneously charmed and aroused by the concept of courting August Trent.
“I haven’t heard that term in years.”
“Neither have I, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to try it.”
“You’re serious.”
He shrugged. “I said I wanted to make love to you. And I do. But I didn’t mean it had to be tonight.” He flashed her a brief smile. “Although I wouldn’t complain if the wind blew that way.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Didn’t think so. So we’re going to spark.”
“What exactly do you have in mind?” Wariness laced her tone.
“Well, for starters, I’m going to finish fixing the mess you’ve got on your hands with the boys’ fostership papers. He paused to smooth the frown off her forehead with his thumb. “And when I’m not playing lawyer, we’re going to spend time together, and play with the boys, and sit on the front porch and swing.”
“Just swing?” she asked.
“Depends,” he said, flashing her a wicked smile.
“On what?”
“On the sparks.”
“Zack—”
He pressed a finger to her mouth. “We’ll just see what happens. Agreed?”
August searched his face in the moonlight. His eyes held that intense glow that mesmerized her. Perhaps it was the moonlight, or the sultry heat of the evening. Perhaps the crickets drowned out her common sense. Or maybe the heavy smell of gardenias and the lingering acrid smoke from the fireworks gave the moment its sense of unreality. Maybe she merely found herself seduced by the memory of the tenderness she’d seen on his face when she told him her story. Whatever the reason, she felt the resistance in her give way in a flood of longing. Slowly, she enfolded his hand in both of hers, then lowered it from her face. With the distinct impression that she was getting in way over her head, she whispered, “Agreed.”
At ten o’clock the following day, Zack was restlessly pacing the confines of Odelia Keegan’s foyer. Deliberately, he’d
left August wanting last night. He’d felt it in the slight tremor of her lips, the tension in her body. She’d wanted him as much as he wanted her. He’d been sure of it.
But standing in the way had been the empty threats Odelia had hurled at her that afternoon. Instinctively Zack knew that as long as August felt the need to protect her kids from Odelia, they’d always come first. He would take a back seat, in her mind, to saving her boys. An unusually strong determination, one he didn’t dare scrutinize, drove him to resolve the crisis. Once Odelia was out of the picture, August’s commitment to the boys wouldn’t seem as threatening.
During the long, sleepless night, Zack had pored over the files Jansen had given him. Slowly, a theory had begun to take shape, and with it had come a strategy. As he dressed that morning for his impromptu visit on Odelia, he’d felt a strong sense of satisfaction.
Now, waiting restlessly in Odelia’s foyer, he found his determination growing. He had only to picture the boys to feel his jaw grow tense. One thought of a young August sitting in a state home had his blood running hot. He’d have staked his reputation on the fact that Odelia was somehow behind the tragic circumstances of August’s life. And if it killed him, he’d make her pay for it.
“Mr. Adriano?” At the sound of his name, he glanced at Odelia’s maid. She beckoned to him from a large wooden doorway off the foyer. “Ms. Keegan will see you in her study now.”
His temper kicked up several degrees as he strode into the room. Odelia stood at the end of the long, heavily decorated room, studying her reflection in the mirror. Wood shelves, filled with leather-bound volumes, lined the walls. The furnishings had a distinctly masculine feel. Leather chairs and a Persian carpet gave it a formal look that seemed somehow inappropriate on the hot Sunday morning. A dour portrait of a white-haired gentleman hung above the fireplace. Oppressive opulence best described the ornate room. Juxtaposed with it in his mind was the image of August clutching a shopping bag as she sat, alone, on a bus ride to nowhere. His jaw clenched so hard that his teeth hurt.
Odelia turned from the mirror with an utterance of distaste. “Mr. Adriano,” she said, acknowledging him. “I see you’re admiring Father’s portrait.”
Just barely, he refrained from telling her that admiring wasn’t the right word. Instead, he pulled his gaze from the large oil. “Naturally,” he said. “I see the family resemblance.”
She indicated one of the leather chairs across from the desk. “As I assume this isn’t a social call, I’d like to get directly to business. I am expecting a caller this afternoon.”
Zack snapped open his briefcase without comment. He pulled a large folder from inside, then dropped it on her desk. “You’re aware by now of the validity of the restraining order I gave you yesterday?”
She snorted. “That damned Fulton Cleese,” she said, referring to the judge who’d issued the order. “I never have liked that man.”
“The feeling is mutual,” Zack assured her.
Odelia leaned back in her chair. “You aren’t foolish enough to believe your histrionics will have any effect on me, I hope.”
“No.” He flipped open the folder. “But you aren’t foolish enough to believe I’m going to stop with a restraining order.”
With tightly pursed lips, she studied him across the desk. “What’s in this for you? How much is Riley paying you to do this?”
“That’s between me and Jansen.”
“Does August know that you’re being paid to champion her cause?”
“Jansen didn’t ask me to come to Keegan’s Bend because of August, Odelia. He sent me here because of you.” He found the paper he wanted and slipped it from the folder.
“Is that so?”
“Yes. He wants to know why he’s had three offers from your attorneys in the last six months for his house and land.”
“Surely they explained that I’m interested in turning a profit when Continental Motors builds its plant here.”
He flipped the paper to her. “They, however, did not explain this memo that Jameson Oaks sent you eight months ago stating that he wasn’t interested in an additional land investment.”
Her cold gaze flicked over the paper before returning to his. “I don’t suppose it would do me any good to ask where you got that?”
“No.”
She pushed it back to him with a red-nailed hand. “Then it won’t do you any good to ask me to explain it.”
“Then why don’t you explain why you want August Trent run out of town?”
“That’s my business, Mr. Adriano.”
“I’m making it my business,” he warned her. “You’ve got no legal grounds.” He tapped the paper with his forefinger. “Evidently, you’ve got no financial grounds. That leaves a personal vendetta, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”
To her credit, Odelia’s expression barely twitched, but an unmistakable spark of irritation flared in her gaze. “What’s in this for you?” she asked him.
Zack shook his head. “The only thing that’s in it for me is making sure August and those four little boys don’t get stomped on.”
“That’s very noble.” When she reached beneath the desk, Zack heard the whirring turn of a combination lock. “Are you certain you aren’t enjoying side benefits?”
He frowned. “Ask another question like that, and you’ll find yourself wrapped up in so much legal red tape, you might never get out.”
She plopped a bundle of hundred-dollar bills on the desk. “I assure you that my interests are strictly academic.” Two more bundles followed. “I want to know how much it’s going to cost to get you to leave this alone.”
Zack looked at the money with distaste. “You can’t buy me, Odelia. Don’t even try it”
“Really?” She added more money to the pile. “I understood that you were in the habit of selling your services to the highest bidder. Isn’t that what Joey Palfitano thought?”
He drew a deep, calming breath. Like any well-trained enemy, Odelia had done her homework. Joey’s trial had been well publicized, as had Zack’s role in it. Odelia had knowingly zeroed in on what she assumed was his soft underbelly. He grudgingly conceded a mental point to her, but forcibly retained his composure. “You’re not even in Joey’s league. You might as well accept the fact that I’m not going away. There’s a skeleton in your closet, Odelia, and I’m going to find out what it is.” He dropped the folder back in his briefcase.
“Don’t be melodramatic,” she snapped. “Just because I want that woman and those four hellions out of my town, does not mean I have something to hide.”
“Maybe not,” he said, deliberately snapping his briefcase shut. “But if you do, I’d carefully consider how much you want to keep it hidden. If you keep pushing August, you have my word that I’ll make you pay for it.”
Abruptly Odelia stood. “Then we have nothing else to discuss.”
With a slight nod, he rose from his chair. “Evidently not.” He didn’t bother with the usual niceties as he exited the study. He’d accomplished what he came to do. With a deft stroke, he’d reversed the tables. Odelia was now on the defensive, and he aimed to keep her there.
As he crossed the wide foyer, Betsy May intercepted his progress. “Zack. I heard you were here.”
“Morning, Betsy May.”
“I don’t suppose you’d like to stay a while and have breakfast with me?” When he opened his mouth to reply, Betsy May held up her hand. “Don’t answer. I already know what you’re going to say. I’d have to be a fool not to know your attentions were already occupied.”
He gave her a lazy grin. “As smart as you are, what are you still doing in Keegan’s Bend?”
She tipped her head toward the study. “Aunt Odelia puts on a good show, but she’s getting old. She couldn’t live here by herself. God knows Hiram wouldn’t do anything for her.”
“Hiram?”
“Her nephew. My first cousin.”
“Charlotte Anne’s father?”
“Yes.
He’s the one August defeated in the mayor’s race.” Besty leaned closer to Zack and muttered in a low voice, “He’s a shiftless drunk, if you ask me. He lives with his wife just outside of town, in the house Odelia bought for him.”
“Who’d you vote for in the election?” Zack asked.
“I’ll never tell.” She gave him a coy look as she buffed her nails on the front of her gingham jumper. “Anyway, if it was up to Hiram, Odelia would just sit out here and die. All he wants is the money. Somebody’s got to take care of her. She’s not all that well.”
“Doesn’t she have children of her own?” he asked.
Betsy May shook her head. “She never married, couldn’t have had kids even if she had.” At his raised eyebrow, Betsy May nodded. “You need to understand what her life was like to understand why she is the way she is. Grandfather was married twice. Odelia was his only child by his first marriage. Her mother died in childbirth. When he married my grandmother, she was considerably younger than he, and I don’t think Odelia ever adjusted to her. Maybe that’s why she was so close to Grandfather. Even though there were two boys, my father and Hiram’s father, Grandfather left most of the money and the businesses to Odelia. He raised her like his oldest son. I think that’s one reason she’s so bitter.”
Zack’s brow furrowed as he concentrated on the story, searching for the missing pieces. “How do you know she couldn’t have children?” he asked.
“There was an automobile accident. One Sunday afternoon, Grandfather took Odelia and Enid into town for ice cream. On the way back, there was an accident. Odelia bled internally for quite some time before anyone found them.” Betsy May laid a hand on his sleeve. “It’s very hurtful to her, Zack. I think she thought she failed Grandfather by not having a family. Surely you can understand that.”
He frowned. “How old was she when this happened?”
“Oh, she was just a child then. Maybe eleven or twelve. Enid was only two.”
“Are your parents still living?”
“My mother is. She lives in Charlottesville. Hiram’s mother is still living, too. She’s in a nursing facility in Richmond. Odelia outlived all of her siblings.”
