by Cathryn Fox
“Adam asked me quite a few questions about you when he noticed your absence on Sunday,” Katherine told her, but no amount of persuasion would make her reveal what questions Adam had been asking and she only laughed when Samantha pouted playfully. “Do you like him?” Katherine countered.
“Well, he’s not fattening,” Samantha grinned impudently. “I have a feeling, however, that he could be hazardous to one’s health.”
“More likely your emotional and…” Katherine returned with a knowing glance, “hormonal peace of mind. He does seem to have quite an effect on members of the female sex. You should have seen the way some of the ladies at the shower flirted and they were with their husbands,” she added with a laugh.
“I’m surprised Janine hasn’t set her sights on him.” Samantha buttered a slice of warm bread.
“What makes you think she hasn’t?”
“Well, has she?” Came her exasperated reply.
Katherine waited until the waiter served their salads before continuing. “Janine has done everything but stand on her head. She stuck to his side like a leech at the shower, pretending he was her date. Harold told me she’s been trying to get Adam’s attention for years.”
“How does Adam react?” She remembered what Adam had said, but often what a man said and did were two different things.
“He’s smart enough to see her true character.”
“Janine is stunning; that often make flaws less noticeable.”
“Sam, Harold and I are under no illusions where Janine is concerned. I’ll never be able to understand how she got the attitude she has with such a wonderful father.”
“She was in the office today and saw the package Adam sent.”
“I see. Just be careful around her, Sam. I wouldn’t worry about her and Adam. He seems to be pretty perceptive where women are concerned.”
“I told him he needed an attitude adjustment. He is way too cynical and thinks he knows everything.”
Katherine laughed. “Harold told me about your heated argument. I understand you really railed at him over Freddie and the guys.”
Samantha felt heat burn her cheeks. “Well, he was just so…so…accusing. He made me mad. It just popped out.” She toyed with her fork. “You know how I am.”
“Yes, a short tempered Capricorn,” Katherine smiled then they both laughed. “I suppose Adam can’t help being suspicious when meeting new people. It’s difficult being in his position. Always wondering if everyone has an ulterior motive. He’s never sure whether he’s liked for himself or for his connections.”
Samantha was thankful for the waiter’s timely arrival with steaming dishes of perfectly prepared quiches Lorraine. “I suppose so.” She remembered saying those same words to him.
“He’s been the son Harold never had. Maybe when you get to know him better and you both let your guards down…”
Had my guard down last night! Samantha hastily reached for the ice water. Almost got to know the man too well, too fast, too… She realized Katherine had stopped talking and was staring at her.
Tilting her head, Katharine focused on Samantha’s flushed cheeks. “Oh, my goodness…you are attracted to Adam, aren’t you?”
“I am not.”
“Liar.”
“Fine. Fine. Fine.” Samantha’s fingers combed her hair back, and then made a vague, fluttering motion. “He is attractive and he knows it. He has way too much ego and a Jekyll and Hyde personality at times.”
Katherine’s lips twisted in amusement. “And your point being?”
Samantha stared at the mural paintings on the ceiling. “I hope your future husband is not trying his hand at matchmaking?” She questioned suspiciously.
“He isn’t, but even if he was, would that be so bad? You should talk, Samantha Logan, you would win the matchmaker-of-the-year award. You successfully introduced Freddie, Pete and Turk to their wives. I understand, you and Hal are going to be godparents. I’m adding blue to the baby quilt I’m crocheting for Freddie and Lily. Look at Lucy, love at first sight. And frankly, if it wasn’t for you, Hal and I…well –”
She shook her head. “You two would not have broken up, probably just eloped…very romantic.” Samantha adjusted her glasses, her lips pursing. “That’s the problem, way too much romance; anyone would think we’ve been having Valentine’s Day, every day.”
“So, maybe it’s your turn.” Katharine’s blue eyes twinkled.
“Put your bow and arrow away. I’m not looking for a romance, or a man. I haven’t even dated in two years, I –”
“Why?”
“Why? Why, what?” Samantha’s blue eyes blinked rapidly behind her lenses.
Pushing her plate to one side, Katherine leaned across the table. “Why haven’t you been dating? I’m assuming it’s your choice, not stupidity on the male population.” She looked at Samantha’s pinched lips and persisted, but kept her tone soft and compelling. “Something happened. It must have been –”
“Fine. Fine. Fine.” Samantha’s fingers drummed against her tea cup, the fine china making musical tones. She pulled at the cowell drape on her navy sweater and shifted uncomfortably in the Queen Anne chair. “Well…I was…I was…” she cleared her throat, exhaled a huff. “I was badly fooled by a man I thought loved me as much as I loved him. We were talking engagement, at least I assumed we were. But you know what that word means…and then…”
Her mouth clamped shut, she rubbed her forehead. “I know it’s stupid. Hell, it’s been two years. But a lot happened that night. We had a terrible fight over… Well, I should have never gotten into a car. The fight triggered a slow response, I failed to avoid a drunk driver, became part of an accident. So it –”
“—was a double hurt?”
Samantha nodded. “Yes.” She swallowed hard. “But it’s not the loss of him, that was a very lucky loss. I…I well I just still can’t believe what a blind, stupid fool I was. I mean we had dated for six months, slow and steady, it took me a while to warm up to him. I thought I knew everything about him. I thought we had a strong relationship. I’ve been worried about that with Lucy and her just-one-look, I’m-in-love reaction to Ray and his to her. Come on, Katherine, love at first sight? Lust at first sight, maybe, but love?”
Katherine toyed with her amber and gold hoop earring. “Listen, Sam, I can certainly relate. My ex-husband proved to be full of surprises. I was thirty-five when we met, it was the same as you, slow and steady. I was busy with a career, moving up the corporate ladder, becoming head contracts administrator. He was president of a bank, staid, above reproach.
“Five years into the marriage, quite by accident, I was stunned to learn of his numerous affairs. He’d gone onto that married and looking website. And he had found and been found. Of course, I thought it was me. That I wasn’t enough woman for him, not good enough as a wife, and terrified that I might have picked up some disease from his philandering.” A shudder ran through her, she reached for her wine glass, before continuing.
“I did my best to discourage, Harold. I didn’t want to be involved with anyone but he was too damn attractive, too funny, too loving, too….” Her voice trailed off, her hand came up to grip Samantha’s. “I knew Harold was the right man, the minute I saw him. I know you think it’s silly to say that, but –”
Samantha shook her head. “No, you seem to be among good company. Maybe that’s the key. If there’s no lust, or attraction, or something at first sight,” she shrugged one shoulder, “what’s to pursue? I remember my dad saying he’d fallen for my mother the minute he saw her in the produce section. Lucy and I laughed over that one. But then it happened to my sister.”
“I will speak to my fiancé and tell him no more matchmaking…if he’s even doing that. But really, don’t tar Adam with another man’s brush. And don’t stop yourself from –”
“I think,” Samantha stated firmly, looking over the rims of her frames at her companion, “this conversation should be terminated and a new one started. Since you�
��re buying, I’m having some sinful dessert. While we wait for the waiter, why don’t you tell me about all the shower gifts you received Sunday. All the fabulous food that was served. What you wore. I know you have one of those smart phones that can launch a rocket, so you probably have pictures. Come on…dish!”
The Wonder Woman PEZ dispenser, with its colorful supply of candy came to Samantha’s rescue on her drive home. The normal forty-five minute drive turned into four hours, courtesy of a jack-knifed rig that blocked the main highway. The confection kept her blood sugar up, singing to the kitchen witch kept her from acting on murderous thoughts while traffic was at a stand-still.
Rolling down the driver’s side window, she inhaled a calming breath of cool, night air. At this rate, she wouldn’t be home until ten. Like everyone else, her engine was off, headlights too. But the full harvest moon provided illumination.
Samantha unhooked her seatbelt and swung her long legs sideways across the front seat. She balanced the kitchen witch on her chest, her fingertips fluffing the gray hair and smoothing out the clothes. “You’re going to hang over the stove. There’s a little hook, that’s perfect for you.”
Too much sugar breeds insanity. Her hand moved to massage the stiffness from her neck. Insane. Perfect word. Insanity was running rampant in her life. She’d received an email from her sister, short but to the point: Surprise honeymoon trip to Acapulco. I am so happy. I want you to be happy too. Samantha was glad that Lucy was happy, because she had been worried. Talk about love at first sight!
But who am I to talk? I thought I had love at second, third and…six month sight. What a joke that was. Maybe love or whatever is supposed to hit hard and fast rather than slow and cultivated. If it takes that much time to feel an emotion, maybe what you’re sensing is more negatives than positives.
Adam Rourke. This time, both hands massaged her neck then moved to her forehead. His image popped into her mind’s eye in a flash. “Damn him.” A sardonic laugh bubbled free. It would have been so much better if he had been a contemporary of the judge’s. She tried picturing him even older than the judge. Stooped, bald, no teeth, with a cane… She blinked rapidly. Hell, even that didn’t work. Why did he have to come along?
His image and personality was too intense, too potent, too sexual, too male, too….her thoughts skidded to a halt. “Fine. Fine. Fine.” She rubbed her forehead harder, inhaling lungful’s of crisp fall air.
Yes, he made too strong an impression. Yes, he was a great kisser. Yes, he certainly knew how and where to touch her.
“And that was with your clothes on.”
Of course, he probably had lots of practice.
“And you? What? One guy. Woohoo!” Her teeth caught her lip. “Twenty seven and just one man. That’s a major embarrassment.” Her head cocked, hair spilling over her shoulder. “That’s probably the problem,” she rationalized. “Two years of avoidance, two years of celibacy, two years of platonic kisses-on-the-cheek from male ‘buddies.’ See, that’s the answer to your over-the-top, go-ahead-take-me-on-the-floor-I’m-ready reaction.”
You are such a liar, Samantha Logan. It was him. You reacted to Adam Rourke. And you damn well would have let him take you on the floor. You damn well should have!
“Are you crazy,” she shook the kitchen witch – hard. “Have sex with a guy I just met? A man I’ll only see two more times? That is totally not me. Ever. Never. I need to get a grip and act like a mature, cool, calm, collected adult.”
Maybe it’s time to change? Maybe it’s time to…
“Stop arguing with myself, call 9-1-1, book a lobotomy and order a straight jacket.” A concert of rude car horns had her scrambling back into position. She turned the key, pulled on the headlights, and slammed the transmission into drive. The only thing Samantha concentrated on was the long drive home.
Chapter Eight
Charles F. Gilbert scanned his Friday night legal class with interest. They were four weeks away from their final exams and of the sixty students who had enrolled twelve weeks ago, only a dozen had survived. Survived was the right word. Gilbert was a demanding taskmaster, given to long reading and lengthy writing assignments and fond of his Friday night quizzes.
“Your time is up, class,” he intoned in his usual bored voice, juggling one of the three pairs of glasses he needed to replace a pair of broken trifocal’s. “Deposit your papers on my desk as you leave. I will be returning your term papers next week with my comments. The reading assignment for Wednesday is posted.”
Picking up her exam paper and book tote, Samantha angled for Professor Gilbert’s desk. As usual, she had to stifle her desire to giggle whenever she looked at the man. Not that his features or personality were cause for amusement. On the contrary, Professor Gilbert was a short, stocky, extremely dignified man with a gray fringe of hair and stern features. He always wore the most impeccably tailored bland business suits that anyone could possibly find.
It was his choice of accessories that caused an amused twitter among his students. Professor Gilbert possessed the most extensive wardrobe of outrageously colorful plaid vests and ties one could imagine. Tonight he had seen fit to dazzle them with a red tartan of unknown highland origin that brightened his dull gray suit.
Samantha gave the professor a dignified nod, then hurried into the corridor with a double sigh of relief – first, for having escaped without laughing and, second, for the fact that tonight’s quiz was longer but easier than normal.
When she heard her name in stereo but felt her left arm grabbed, she turned to see whose hand had clamped vice-like around her wrist. It was Don Clark; his usual easy going demeanor was contorted. Samantha arched a brow. “Let me go.”
“You’ve been leading me on.” His fingers pinched harder, his gaze narrowed on her flushed face. “I don’t like a tease. You don’t say no to me.”
“Let. Me. Go. Now.” Each word was strong. Forceful. Samantha stood tall, dropped her tote and purse to the floor, freeing up her right hand. Blue eyes narrowed into brown. “I don’t tease. I told you no from the beginning. Three times. What part of no don’t you understand?”
She shifted her body, ready to knee him in the groin and connect her fist against his jaw. Her voice was a low, deadly warning. “Last time. Let me go.” Her eyes never left his. She felt his fingers slowly uncurl from her wrist. Suddenly, another arm encircled her waist.
“Everything alright?” Adam felt her body stiffen, briefly, and then relax against his.
“I think so. I was just clarifying the meaning of the word no to Mr. Clark.” She watched Don’s expression change from anger to alarm.
“Mr. Clark should be thanking me,” Adam’s mouth twisted in a wry smile as he watched Don’s face tighten. “I saved him from a right hook to…” his fingers slid between hers, easing them apart “the jaw?” His heart rate had jumped; but her pulse was steady, almost calm beneath his thumb.
“I was debating. Jaw? Nose? Ear? Plus a knee to the groin.” Samantha’s head tilted. “What was that, Don?”
Clark stared from one to the other. “Son of a bitch!” He ran a quick hand through his short, blond hair, turned and long-legged it down the corridor.
“Well, it’s not the worst apology I’ve ever heard.” Adam gently pulled her around to face him. “I knew you could take him. I was actually saving you from an assault charge.”
He frowned at the red welt that circled her wrist, his thumb moved to soothe the mark. This time, her pulse was anything but calm. “That bastard. Okay, definitely self-defense. I thought you told the judge and your personal SEAL team you weren’t having any problems? And where the hell is security? Yours is the only night class that runs this late and, dammit to hell, there should be…”
“Who needs the navy when I have a marine. I appreciate the back-up.” When she saw a muscle flex ominously in his cheek, her fingers stroked the anger from his face. “What on earth are you doing here?” Samantha blinked rapidly, eyes growing wide. “Oh, my God, did something hap
pen to the judge or Katherine?”
“Calm down,” he shook his head. “Everything and everyone is fine. I just left Hal; he gave me directions on how to find you. This old place is such a maze.”
“You get used to it. It’s an annex campus for night classes. Why did you want to find me?”
“Dinner. You haven’t eaten have you?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t get a chance. I left work too late.”
“Good. I thought we’d go to the Grotto,” Adam’s possessive hand settled on the small of her back and directed her down the corridor to the stairs.
“The Grotto!” Samantha stopped walking, gasping at the mention of the area’s most exclusive restaurant. She groaned in dismay, “I am not dressed to go there! They probably won’t let me in.”
“You look fine to me.”
“Sure that’s because you look like you stepped out of GQ!” Adam looked more than GQ, she thought. He looked sexy as hell, in a black cashmere European-cut blazer that emphasized his muscular physique, gray tweed slacks, and an open-neck white shirt.
Damn, ignoring the man was not going to work. Suddenly, she realized she had to stop lying to herself. She was hooked. Good. Bad. Whatever. Her reactions were totally out of her control. Hormones were pulsing through her veins, heat had replaced blood, and she could feel a blush stain her cheeks.
“The Grotto? Really? That’s so expensive. I’m happy with pizza or a burger or someplace simple.” She watched his mouth, those damn sexy lips curved into a smile, but the look in his eyes brooked no compromise. “Fine. Fine. Fine.” She exhaled a huff. “Well, you’re going to have to give me a few minutes in the powder room. Maybe I can pull a Scarlett O’Hara and turn the drapes into something a little more elegant.” She thrust her book tote into his hand, and disappeared into the nearby ladies’ lounge.
I look like I’m twelve! Frowning, Samantha viewed her reflection in the large full-length mirror. She unlaced her dark-blue suede vest and groaned in despair. Now, the soft white sweater and slim suede skirt made her look like a schoolgirl. Why do I always feel I’m not right? Why do I always feel I’m not good enough? At least I’m wearing heels instead of sneakers.