by Cathryn Fox
Her hip knocked the oven door closed. “You are in luck. Once a year I go berserk in the kitchen and whip up my famous autumn apple bread, banana bread, and carrot bread,” she told him, deftly adding another loaf to the cooling racks. “A little thank you for the neighbors.”
“Carrot bread, you’re joking!”
“Listen,” she playfully wagged a mitt at him. “Bugs Bunny would kill for a piece of my carrot bread.” Samantha tilted her head. “I gave up on you for today. I figured Janine had stretched out the planning meeting and you’d head back to your apartment. You have an early flight out tomorrow morning, right?”
Adam nodded. “Believe it or not, the meeting is still going on. Judge Baylor was on his eighth vodka.” His fingers came up to rub his forehead. “I stood it as long as I could. Janine is terrific at dispensing headaches, especially when her father isn’t around to curb her. She precipitated more arguments about arrangements than they had arrangements to make!”
He eyed Samantha with interest. Her hair was pulled up and back into a pony tail, blond tendrils framing a face that glowed from oven heat. She looked soft and cuddly in a thin pink sweatshirt that was slipping off one bare shoulder and low-slung slim gray sweatpants that bared a taut belly. He couldn’t help but slide his arms around her and pull her back against him. “Damn, you look like jail-bait!”
“Then you had better behave yourself,” Samantha warned him, smacking his roaming hands with a wooden spatula. “I’ll let you sample my cooking while I dispense tea and sympathy.”
“What I could really use is a dozen aspirin.”
“They’re upstairs in the bathroom cabinet. Why don’t you get them and meet me in the living room. I have two muffin pans to put in the oven.”
Adam joined her a few minutes later, wearily sinking into the comfortable confines of the sofa and gratefully accepting the steaming cup of fragrant tea she offered him. He had decided not to tell her that the committee meeting had consisted of couples, which left him paired with Janine for the entire day. Janine had not hesitated to interject malicious remarks about Samantha whenever she had the opportunity. He’d been mentally berating himself for being too placating.
Samantha viewed Adam with sympathetic but knowing eyes. “I’m guessing you had your first mean-girl experience. You threw yourself into the volcano, didn’t you?” Seeing his mouth tighten, she exhaled a musical sigh.
When he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the sofa, Samantha took the half-empty mug from his hand and placed it on the side table. She let her fingertips stroke the tension from his forehead. “Just relax,” the soft pads of her fingers stroked his eyelids closed, then caressed the tops of his cheekbones before zigzagging down amid the stubble. “I like your lumberjack look. Very sexy,” she giggled when one green eye opened and glared.
His arms locked around her waist and together they slid sideways on the wide sofa. “You smell good,” Adam murmured sleepily against her hair, pulling her half on his chest and wedging her against the back of the couch.
“It’s my new cologne,” she teased, “Eau de Nutmeg.”
“I’m not sure what I like the best…coconuts, peanut butter or this one…they all suit you.”
When his breathing grew deep and regular, Samantha stole a glance and saw his eyes were closed. With a little sigh, she snuggled contentedly against his broad chest, enjoying the comforting beat of his heart beneath her palm. The warmth of the room and the utter quiet that enveloped them made her feel drowsy. She closed her eyes thinking how wonderful it would be to spend all her evenings with Adam.
Beethoven woke them. The four-note motif started slow and stately before growing more and more aggressive and insistent. Adam grumbled a sleepy, “What in hell…”
“Oven timer,” she muttered around a yawn. “Beethoven starts drinking a fifth in a few more beats.” Samantha adjusted her glasses. “If you will kindly let me up.”
“And what if I won’t?” He countered silkily, eying her through half-hooded, sleepy green eyes. He pulled her fully on top of him, resting her chin in the cleft of his.
“My buns are going to burn.”
“I’ll give you burnt buns.” Adam’s grin was devilish before setting his mouth possessively on hers. His hands slid down her spine. One large palm cupped the curve of her ass; the other moved under the cropped-top. There was nothing but Samantha under the thin fleece. A wonderful expanse of soft, warm silken skin that both relaxed and enflamed.
Samantha exhaled a little sigh, luxuriating for a moment against the hard body pressed against hers. Her fingers walked down the sides of his black turtleneck sweater and settled at his waist, where they suddenly clipped him hard. She was rewarded for her efforts by being unceremoniously dumped on the floor. “I just wanted to show you how well I can take care of myself,” she laughed, but beat a hasty retreat to the kitchen when Adam attempted to grab her again.
“Your kitchen witch didn’t work and you get to take all the burnt one’s home,” Samantha yelled, ruefully surveying a group of muffins that were slightly scorched on the bottom.
“That’s great,” Adam called from the living room. “At least I’ll have something to eat for breakfast tomorrow.”
Samantha had just finished tidying up the kitchen and securing some muffins in a storage container, when the telephone rang. The voice that came lilting over the wire caused her to squeal with delight and flooded her eyes with tears. “Lucy!”
Her sister’s voice was equally thick with emotion. “Sammy, how are you?”
“I’m fine. And you?”
“Wonderful,” Lucy laughed. “I just wanted to call and tell you I’m all settled here in Los Angeles. Acapulco was wonderful and so were Ray’s relatives.”
“How is your handsome devil of a husband?” Samantha inquired.
“He is just fine,” drawled a slightly accented male voice from an extension phone.
“Ray, listening in on your wife’s conversations, shame on you,” Samantha teased, boosting herself up on the kitchen counter.
“Is everything all right with you?” Ramon Alvarez inquired with brotherly concern.
“Everything is just fine,” Samantha repeated again. “I’ve been busy at work and school. The judge got married yesterday, Lucy. I’ll email photos and tell you all about it.” She looked up and smiled when Adam walked in.
“It’s my sister calling from California,” she told him when he raised an inquiring eyebrow.
“Sam, do you have someone there?” Lucy asked.
“Yes.”
“Is it Diane or one of the other girls?”
“No, wrong sex,” Samantha teased, winking merrily as Adam joined her on the counter.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Lucy intoned with sisterly concern, despite the fact they were thousands of miles apart.
Adam grinned at the tone of her voice that was easily heard from the receiver and looked at his watch. “Tell her it’s ten forty-five our time and seven forty-five her time.”
Samantha dutifully relayed the message.
“I know what time it is in both zones,” Lucy sputtered exasperatedly over the phone amid Ray’s soft chuckle. “Don’t you think it’s a little late to be entertaining?”
“Actually, he’s on his way out,” Samantha soothed her sister. “I packed up all the stuff you wanted and downloaded your computer files on a flash drive. About five of your customer’s called. Adam’s doing me a big favor and dropping the package at the FedEx box at the airport tomorrow.”
“I am?” Adam cocked his head.
“You are. The box is right on my bed. Label all done, big drop box at the airport,” Samantha told him sweetly, pushing him off the counter. He grinned at her and sauntered out of the kitchen.
“Who is he?” Lucy asked bluntly.
Samantha sighed, glad that Adam was out of ear-shot. “He’s a friend of the judge’s,” she explained. “How about if I call you back later.” That seemed to placate
her sister and the rest of the conversation was filled with questions that Samantha dutifully answered about how she was managing on her own.
Ray finally managed to edge into the conversation and reiterated his invitation for her to come to Los Angeles. “Were you able to download the e-ticket I sent? All you have to do is choose a flight and call the airline. Why don’t you come after your final exams? The judge’s office will be closed, right? And your new job doesn’t start until February, so you can stay in the guest house and enjoy the sun. I know you love to dive and we could go to the underwater museum in Cancun.”
“Wow, I was just reading about that. I’ve got an appointment tomorrow at lunch to get a passport processed, so I will expedite. Definitely promise to consider it. Lucy, I will call you later.”
“What are you promising to consider?” Adam inquired curiously, catching the tail end of her conversation on his return to the kitchen.
“They want me to come to California,” she told him, picking up the sealed container of muffins and walking him to the front door.
“You’re not thinking of going?” he asked gruffly.
“Not tonight,” she grinned and seeing the seriousness of his expression added quickly, “I’ve got so much on my plate with the office and exams, I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Well, don’t. I have a few plans I want you to consider myself,” he said mysteriously, then his voice turned hard, anxious. “I am worried about one thing, that bastard from your class and your safety. Now, don’t get mad…I’m totally ignoring that look you just gave me…I mentioned it to Hal and he’s going to make sure Finch or Nick or someone walks you to and from class both nights.” His palm came up. “It’s a done deal. No further discussion. Stop with that glare.”
Samantha exhaled a short breath and then flashed a quick smile. “Fine. Fine. Fine. But I think you scared him.”
“I don’t want him scaring you.” Adam pulled her into his arms. “I’m calling you every night. I’ve got both your cell and your home number.” At her arched brow, he grinned. “Hal and Katherine are a wealth of information. I’ve locked the numbers into my Samantha app.”
“I’m going to be teased mercilessly.” Samantha suddenly realized it would be the last time she’d see him before he returned to New York City. “So, then…I’ll see you Friday?” Her fingers walked up the soft leather on the front of his jacket to lock around his neck. She stood on tiptoes to match his height; a sense of loss already permeated her heart, her soul, her body.
He took her face in his hands, green eyes smiled into blue. “Absolutely, I’ll be on the earliest plane I can get.” His mouth moved against hers. The pressure soft but decidedly possessive. Loss was replaced by an ache and a racing pulse. Her fingers wove deep into the thick, dark hair at his nape. The undoubted expertise of his touch never failed to arouse her and they were both breathing deeply as they faced each other in the doorway. Samantha could only envy Adam’s composure, when he shook her hand with exaggerated courtesy and wished her a polite good night.
Chapter Eleven
Adam slashed his bold signature on the last of the memos that filled the manila folder on the center of his desk, and then pushed it to one side. “Looks like the brochure is on schedule so far. I should be hearing from Gilford at the art institute in half an hour. The first shipment of paintings is arriving tonight and they’ll be bringing them here for the photo shoot.”
“That’s great,” Ted Marshall, the lanky public relations man, ran a hand through his short blond hair. “Everything is set up in the conference room; the photographer is munching on dinner. That should ease your belly, Brett.”
“Please, don’t mention food. I’m trying an ulcer diet I found on line; it seems to be a lot of oatmeal, rice, creamed soups.” Brett Townshend grimaced, chewing another chalky antacid tablet. “What is on my social calendar this weekend?”
“I’ve loaded your schedule into your phone, with appropriate alarms but here’s a print-copy of the agenda.” Ted pushed a sheet toward the firm’s vice-president and grinned. “Your tux is going to get a real workout. Since Adam has opted to spend his weekends molting upstate we get to enjoy all the excitement.”
“Tell my stomach about it!” Brett pushed his chair back from the desk and crossed long legs. “I’ve never had such constant indigestion in all my life. The only person enjoying this is my wife. Meg is spending a fortune cornering the evening wear market.”
“Put it on the expense account,” Adam grinned at his tall red-haired associate. “I’m feeling very generous these days.”
“Don’t think I won’t,” Brett threatened with a smile. “What’s got you in such an expansive happy mood these days? Or should I say who?” He questioned his best friend with a knowing glance.
“There’s no who making him content in this city,” Ted interjected sourly. “I thought I’d reap the rewards of his usual female fallout when I invited him to share my apartment instead of hearing him complain about living in a hotel. When we did the last brochure, two years ago, it was a veritable feast of gorgeous feminine pulchritude; this year a famine. Hell, he should be as frustrated as I am!”
“Nope, I’m calm, relaxed and content.” Adam leaned back in the leather chair. “There is a very nice who just a few hundred miles north of here,” he confided.
They both looked at him with undisguised interest. “Please don’t tell me it’s Janine. That would make my stomach hurt worse.” Brett had met Janine when she and her father had visited Adam in New York last year and was not favorably impressed. “She makes me nervous.”
“Hardly,” Adam gave a derisive snort and an exaggerated shiver. “But I did meet Sam through the judge. She’s his paralegal.”
“Now what would you guess a Sam would look like?” Ted bantered lightly to Brett.
“Samantha Logan happens to be a tall, beautiful, extremely intelligent woman with an outrageous sense of humor, a terrific personality and she has no idea that she’s all that. She makes me happy with the simplest of things and doesn’t hesitate to tell me to adjust my attitude on hell…well almost everything. She keeps me grounded. Plus she prefers peanut butter and jelly over caviar.” Adam enlightened them. “That’s what I love about her.”
“This sounds serious. I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned a woman with that tone in your voice,” Brett commented thoughtfully, eying his friend with interest. “And you used the L-word.”
Hands behind his head, Adam relaxed and rocked his chair back. “I did, didn’t I?” His expression was thoughtful. “Brett, I remember you telling me that you fell for Meg on the first date?”
Brett nodded. “Yup, knew from the start that she was a keeper. It wasn’t too hard to convince her either. The next thing you know, we’re married and we have rascally twins.”
“Hey, those are my Godson’s you’re maligning,” Adam grinned, then shook his head. “It hit me hard and fast too. Suddenly I could see me and Samantha, married, with kids and the ranch turned into a real home.” A couple of stored memories popped into his brain: Samantha whirling out of the kitchen holding little Marc; Samantha cuddling the schnauzer puppy in the pet shop; Samantha curled against him on the sofa.
Ted frowned when Adam failed to reply to his question. His voice grew louder. “So you have become a one-woman man? Exclusive?” This was going to put a crimp in most of his PR plans. “Is she the one you’ve been laughing on the phone with until the wee hours the past few nights?”
“Absolutely.” Adam pushed his chair back down, and centered another folder on his desk. “She’s the one who got me involved in the Wounded Warrior Project. Say, Ted, I need a status report on how the interviews are going. I realize you two are handling most of the load but I’ll be glad to take over the work on the Warrior Project.”
“Relax about the Project, things are going smoothly. I am curious about Miss Logan, when do we get to meet this charming paragon?” Ted was more than curious about the woman who had increased his
work-load, decreased the fun in his life-style and complicated more than a few plans for the weeks ahead.
“I’m not sure I want you to meet her,” Adam grinned at his public relations man. “However, I do want you to book me a suite at the Ritz Carlton, The Plaza, Trump…one of those. Sam will have a fit but she’s fun when she’s angry.” He was thoughtfully a moment, trying to remember her schedule. “Make it in two weeks, even if she’s delayed, I’ll get out of your hair.” Adam glanced at his watch, thinking Samantha should be home from her Wednesday night class by now. He was concerned about her safety. “As a matter of fact, if you two will excuse me –”
“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Brett grinned at Ted, watching Adam pick up the phone and punch a button.
He easily imagined her curled up on the sofa, barefoot as usual, wearing those sexy pink and gray sweats, with nothing but her underneath, probably holding a mug of tea. Hmmm…what was that five rings?
Or maybe she had on her short, sheep covered night shirt. Who ever thought flannel could be so damn erotic. Wait a minute that was at least the tenth ring! No, the twentieth. He swallowed down the previous flash of lust and pushed back from his desk, the leather chair slamming hard against the wall.
Ted poked his head back inside. “Everything okay? I heard a crash?”
Thirtieth ring. “No everything is not okay,” Adam shook the receiver, wondering if he had dialed the wrong number. No, he had carefully programmed it into his desk phone. “She’s not answering. Something’s wrong. She might have broken down on the road. She’s got this tiny, stupid cellphone that looks like a toy and probably gets shitty reception. She was having trouble with this one asshole in her class, but–”
Relief flooded him, when her breathy voice snaked into his ear. “Are you okay? You sound out of breath? What took you so long to answer? I can charter a plane and be there in…what?” Adam looked at Ted, still standing in the doorway and now holding up one finger. “An hour? Probably less. I—”
“Whoa…you need to take a deep breath. I’m fine. The phone only rang six times, I was just screwing Morti—”