by Ally Blake
The moonlight created a halo of light around his beautiful face and she found herself reaching out and taking a hold of his large hand and saying, ‘Please don’t go. Not yet.’
They stood like that for a few moments. He finally gave her hand a quick squeeze, then let go and bent to chat to the driver. Cara saw the light on in Gracie’s top-floor window. With a deep ragged breath she headed up to her friend, feeling secure in the knowledge that Adam was right behind her, supporting her all the way.
She opened the unlocked door to Gracie’s apartment and, by the look of pure relief on her friend’s red face, she knew without a doubt she had made the right decision. Cara ran to her best friend, and card-carrying member of her urban family, and wrapped her tight.
Hours later Adam stretched out his neck as he filled the kettle in Cara’s downstairs apartment.
Cara came back from the bathroom where she had gone to splash cold water on her tired face. She then flopped into the large leather sofa with all the coordination of a rag doll and remained where she landed, lying across the couch, one leg dangling onto the floor and one arm flung across her tired eyes. She looked so small. But hours of hugging and consoling a devastated best friend could do that to a person.
Through the night, Adam had witnessed exactly the sort of emotional involvement he had sought to avoid in trying to talk Chris out of this whole escapade in the first place. He had seen his father rise and fall with the women in his life so many times that he had come to the conclusion that any such grief and loss was self-inflicted. It was simple. Don’t care and you won’t find cause to grieve.
But when Cara had asked him to stay, the thought of simply not caring had been inconceivable. And even when the tears had been flying thick and fast in Gracie’s apartment upstairs he had not been able to drag himself away. The desire to be there if Cara needed him had been stronger than the desire to shield himself from the potency of the enshrouding emotions. It had been quite a night.
Once the kettle was boiled he poured a cup of black instant coffee for himself and a sweet white for Cara. He carried the cups over, resting them on the big wooden coffee-table as gently as he could as he sat in the chair opposite hers. But the smell must have reached her just the same.
‘Mmm,’ she said, her arm shifting just enough to reveal her lovely eyes, which blinked slowly, sleepily, at him.
He couldn’t move. He was frozen in time, mesmerised by that lush mouth of hers curling into a slow, appreciative smile. Then she stretched, her whole lithe body yielding and unwinding before him. Finally her face erupted into a great gaping yawn and she pulled herself into a sitting position. Blinking sleepily at him some more, she grinned.
‘What are you grinning at?’ he asked and sat back, enjoying her first smile all night.
‘I feel like I’m playing hookey,’ she whispered.
‘Private school girl, hey?’
‘Yep.’
‘Were your parents doctors or lawyers?’
She shook her head vehemently. ‘Good Lord. Neither. Scholarships all the way for me.’
‘So you were a brainiac.’
Her eyes smiled at him from over her mug of coffee, their emerald depths glistening back at him.
‘And you weren’t?’
He shrugged. ‘I did well enough. So why didn’t you become a doctor or a lawyer? Can’t stand the sight of blood?’
That earned him another grin and he found he was amassing quite a collection of them, and they were that good he had the feeling he would be keeping them with him to bring out on cold, lonely nights.
‘Oh, I like action well enough. There’s plenty of bloodshed in my business but at least there I am the decision maker; I’m the end of the line. What I say goes. I brook no arguments, or I walk.’
‘I saw that tonight. When I happened on Jeff he looked like he didn’t know what hit him. He must have thought he’d bought himself a lap-dog when he took you on.’
‘Then he didn’t do as much research as he originally professed.’
Adam nodded. The conversation had hit a natural lull and for several moments they sipped on their coffees, simply enjoying each other’s company. He watched as Cara tucked her feet beneath her, shuffling her bottom until she was comfortable, her slight frame sinking happily into the large seat.
Adam glanced around the apartment. It was stylish and homey at the same time. Cosy. Comfortable. ‘I like your place.’
Cara followed his gaze and he saw her face light up again but the brightness diminished as though someone had snuffed out a burning candle.
‘Me too. It’s almost all mine, you know. The whole building.’
‘I’m impressed. You did it without having to be a doctor or a lawyer…’
‘Or part-owner in a multibillion-dollar company,’ they said in tandem.
Adam could not believe he was making jokes about money with a woman. It was just surreal.
She nodded, her mouth twisting as she bit at her lower lip. Adam knew this meant she was disconcerted. By now he knew what pretty much all of her little idiosyncratic expressions meant. It wasn’t as though he had purposely studied them, they were just that memorable, and just so particular to her.
OK, so he had studied them too.
‘With this job I could have paid it off. But now I have run out on the production…’ She finished off on an expressive shrug.
He remembered her saying in amongst her earlier ramblings in the hotel how important this pay-cheque was to her. And then for the first time in his life he found himself uttering the words, ‘If you need the money—’
Cara held up her hands, stopping his words short. ‘Don’t even think it, Adam. There is nothing more likely to ruin a relationship than money.’
And he was so relieved at her words he wanted to throw himself into her arms and bury his face in her warmth and never let go.
It was enough to have him leap to his feet and ask, ‘How about breakfast?’
Adam looked suddenly lost. As though he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Cara figured he had every right to be antsy. He’d put up with a lot that night, more than she would have expected of anyone. Even Kelly and Simon had headed home some time after three. Yet Adam had stayed.
Cara glanced at the closed pantry doors, imagining the delights within. ‘It’ll have to be cornflakes or two-week-old eggs, I’m afraid.’
‘Sit,’ Adam insisted. ‘Stay here. I’m going out for a walk and I’ll bring something back.’
Cara nodded. He wanted to leave. He needed fresh air. But she didn’t blame him. He hadn’t asked for this. Hadn’t asked for a night comforting practical strangers. If he had reached his limit she couldn’t blame him at all.
He didn’t even turn at the door when he left. She wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t come back, if he made some excuse and ran for his life. And though she tried to pretend she was OK with the thought, it sapped the last of her resolve. She slumped back into her soft couch, the last remnants of her energy finally leaving her as tranquil, heavenly sleep took her over.
The smell of store-bought coffee laced with cinnamon invaded her senses. And croissants. And jam. And something else…She sniffed the air and peeled open an eye.
Adam was back. She could see him silhouetted against a wash of morning sun streaming through the small side window. Her heart grew so that she could barely breathe.
On the dining table she saw the something else. A huge bunch of fresh flowers took pride of place as a centre-piece. Adam had obviously not been able to find a vase so they resided in an unused spaghetti canister. Daisies, her favourite flower. The same scent as her favoured perfume. She had a feeling he knew it, too.
Cara sat up and only when Adam turned her way did she realise the creaking groan she had just heard had come from her.
‘Good morning, sunshine,’ he said.
Cara ran a hand through her tumble of short curls. ‘How long have you been gone?’ she asked, hiding the burgeoning tenderness from he
r voice under the mask of a yawn.
‘Half an hour at most.’
‘Are you sure it’s not really tomorrow?’
He raised an eyebrow.
‘Are you sure I haven’t just had the most delicious, rejuvenating twenty-four-hour sleep?’
A smile kicked at the side of his mouth. ‘Pretty sure. Sorry.’
Cara peeled herself from the chair, her joints aching, her whole body heavy with exhaustion, and her heart singing that he had returned to her. She realised Adam must have felt pretty much just as achy and exhausted, but instead of hotfooting it back to the hotel for a couple of hours of much-needed sleep, or running for the hills and out of her life altogether, he had returned to her with flowers and breakfast.
Her heart ached with the perfection of the scene: the mouth-watering display of croissants, muffins, pancakes, sausages and eggs, the thoughtful flowers, a man she adored seated at the head of the table. She had to take the edge off before she burst into tears.
‘Wow!’ she exclaimed merrily as she sat.
‘What?’
‘Are we having company?’
‘Not that I know of.’
‘Do I look like the sort of girl who can wolf this lot down?’ With that, Cara’s tummy let out a groan to match any in history. She couldn’t help but laugh. ‘OK. So maybe I am just that sort of girl. Load me up a plate.’
‘All I ask is that you leave me a bite.’
She shot him a smile, feeling warm and fuzzy with tiredness. ‘We’ll see.’
Adam filled up Cara’s plate as asked. He was famished and he could tell she was too. So only once she was satisfied did he take a seat and grab some food for himself.
‘What do you think Gracie will do now?’ he asked.
Cara looked up at her ceiling as though curling out her thoughts to her friend a few floors above.
‘I really don’t know. Her mother became pregnant with Gracie when she was in her late teens. Gracie never knew her father. I don’t think he’s even Australian. And her mother married Gracie’s stepfather when she—Gracie—was in high school, so her half-siblings are still pretty young. Her stepdad’s a lovely guy, so I’m sure if Gracie decided to go and stay with him and her half-brother and sister that would be fine.’
‘But will she? She doesn’t seem the type to lean on people too easily.’
‘She’s not.’
‘Which is why you had to come. You knew she would lean on you. Her urban family.’
‘Exactly.’ An amazed smile grew on her face and it kicked at something deep inside him. ‘You are too astute for your own good.’
‘It comes in handy.’
‘In your work, sure. But it must be hard to give people a second go if you know that your first impressions are usually so bang on.’
Cara smiled up at him and he couldn’t for the life him remember what she had just said. She was all warm and rumpled with sleep. Her cheeks were pink, her hair ruffled and curling about her face, which was long since devoid of make-up. Her smattering of freckles stood out on her sweet nose.
She must have thought she had not explained herself well enough so she rephrased her question.
‘I mean, if someone makes a bad first impression, how could you ever trust them again?’
She shook her head sadly, then tucked into her breakfast and Adam relaxed once he realised that her conversation had become rhetorical. He was thankful when they settled into a companionable silence.
It was halfway through the meal before Adam wondered how long it had been since he had eaten breakfast in companionable silence with anyone.
His rare breakfasts with his father were anything but companionable. They were always fraught with disappointment on Adam’s side, and resentment from his father that he’d had to fall back onto his son’s fortune since losing all of his own.
And breakfasts with Chris or Dean were anything but silent. They were always noisy and energetic as the three of them sparred back and forth with new ideas.
But this breakfast experience was new to him. It was leisurely, it was peaceful and it was pleasant. And to add to the conundrum, he was eating this delicious, companionable, comfortably silent breakfast with a woman. He could not recall a time when that had ever happened.
He watched Cara from beneath his lashes. Her gaze was aimed towards the window, but, with nothing more interesting in her path than the neighbour’s garage wall, he knew her mind was far away. She bit into her croissant vacantly, chewed slowly, her wide green eyes blinking slowly into the sun.
Without warning she turned his way and he was caught staring. She sent him a warm sweet smile that spoke of comfort and sunshine and all things nice.
His heart flipped in his chest.
Again she had blessed him with a moment of simple joy that he did not want to ever forget. In fact this was a moment he did not want to have happen only once in his lifetime. He wanted to experience again and again. And not just with anyone.
But with her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘SO YOU only date puppy dogs?’ Adam said out of the blue.
Cara blinked and drew her attention from her daydreams to the man who had been featuring in them. Where had that statement come from? she wondered. But then, when her sleepy focus snapped back into place, she knew. There was more than just friendly interest in his eyes.
In an instant her heart rate doubled, and, for someone who saw exercise as something other people did, she felt that doubled heart rate in every limb.
‘And you only date brainless bimbos,’ she lobbed back, her voice unfortunately heavy and languorous.
The twinkle in his eyes showed he knew just how he affected her. ‘And so far how do you think that has worked for the both of us?’
She slowly lowered her fork, her gaze unable to disentangle from his. ‘Not so well, obviously,’ she admitted. ‘Or else we would both be settled with toddlers scampering about our feet by now.’
He nodded. Slowly. ‘Maybe it’s time we break the mould. Try something new.’
Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Was the gorgeous, emotionally unavailable, confirmed bachelor, billionaire Adam Tyler saying that he would like for them to try each other on for size?
If Cara had felt the double heart rate in every limb, the shortness of breath that suddenly hit her like a sack of flour to the chest was a whole other sensation. The brick in her chest that she had felt for so long was nothing in comparison. She gripped a hold of the edge of the dining table so as not to swoon from her chair.
Adam watched her with his usual quiet patience. Well, he would have to wait. Her answer would be one of the most important of her life.
Think, Cara. Think!
Gorgeous—God, yes.
Emotionally unavailable—surely as much as ever. But aren’t you the same?
Confirmed bachelor—meaning he would never try to change you so as to keep you. Isn’t that perfect?
Billionaire.
That was where it all fell apart. Money ruined everything. Her parents hadn’t had enough to keep them happy. But since then she had seen where too much could cause just as many squabbles and levels of mistrust. Adam was as damaged as she was by his parents’ failings, and that was the last thing she needed to be reminded of every day.
Relax! This is no marriage proposal. He is not asking you to move to the other side of the world and become his love slave. He has just thrown out the idea that two consenting adults who find each other appealing might want to consider the idea of dating.
Who was she kidding? They didn’t just find each other appealing, the two of them could run a small town on the electricity they produced between them, so any sort of affair would be…unforgettable.
But then she knew. It would not only be unforgettable, it would be unbeatable. If she ever had Adam, she did not think that any other relationship would compare.
Along with the face Adam presented to the world was the Adam she had come to know over the last several
days. He was extraordinarily perceptive, doggedly loyal, and infinitely lovable. So he wore suits that cost ten times as much as her one pair of Kate Madden Designs shoes, but he didn’t flaunt his money in any way that she had seen. He used his powers for good, to look after a friend in need, to give some exercise and sunshine to a group of virtual strangers whom he thought might like it, and she had no idea who or what he had threatened to get her out of the hotel the night before and to Gracie as quickly as he had.
And the fact that he didn’t speak unless he had something to say just showed what a good listener he was. Cara had not had too much experience with people who actually listened. Her parents had screamed their opinions at one another without ever answering one another’s questions. Any way she looked at it, he was a good man.
The fact of the matter was, she had fallen deeply and longingly in love with him. So, contrarily, the answer had to be no.
No matter how much he seemed to care for her, he had never given her any indication that his thoughts on long-term relationships were anything other than exactly as his biography suggested. And any sort of dalliance with him would be so unforgettable she could very well not get over it. It would be unforgettable and bust.
She peeled her fingers from the table and sat forward, her answer fixed. ‘Or maybe we stick to our guns so as not to fall prey to outside forces telling us what they think our lives should be like.’
He did his blinking thing. ‘There is always that argument.’
Cara took the several beats of silence to meditate her beating heart to a more manageable pace.
‘So how has it been working for you?’ he asked.
‘Hmm?’
‘Sticking to your guns.’
Pretty well. Fantastically. I love my life.
Those were all perfectly reasonable responses to his question. But Cara knew in that moment that they were not true.
Her life was nice. Busy. Ordered. But that was hardly the message she wanted written on her tombstone. Outrageous. Hectic. Abundant with love. Now those were descriptions to be proud of.
She looked up to find Adam watching her. He was nodding.