Against All Odds (Arabesque)

by Gwynne Forster

  “Adam, one day I tried to list the things that I dislike about you.”

  Both of his eyebrows arched. “And?”

  “Well, while I admire your self-control, it irks the hell out of me that you can turn off your passion at will, as though it were a kitchen faucet.”

  His eyes lighted with mirth, and she thought his deep laugh held more than humor, that it signified release as well. He pinched her nose and hugged her. “If I wasn’t able to turn it off, you probably wouldn’t be speaking to me.” Arm in arm, they walked to his car.

  * * *

  They spoke little on the drive back. Adam reflected on what had passed between them and on the unpleasant, empty sensation in his chest. He’d thought, hoped, that the fever raging in him whenever he saw her or spoke with her would subside if he made love with her. He’d depended on it. It struck him that if he were so far off in his business dealings, he’d soon face bankruptcy, because she’d gotten into his blood and made herself as much a part of him and the red and white corpuscles that coursed through his veins and sustained his life. But hell! People lived without sight, auditory faculties, limbs, and even a kidney. And if he had to, if she couldn’t come to terms with it, he’d live without Melissa Grant.

  * * *

  But Melissa’s thoughts didn’t lean toward life without Adam. Monday morning found her slouched in her desk chair, daydreaming. Alarmed at her unusual behavior, she went to the ladies’ room to refresh her face with cold water and try to change her mood. She had to get started on the mound of work in her incoming box. She walked into the room and Banks stopped fingering her curls, observed Melissa from the mirror, and smirked.

  “What are you licking your chops about?”

  Immediately defensive, Melissa asked her, “What do you mean?”

  Never one for subtlety, Banks retorted, “You didn’t even see me. Whose arms were you in last night? I’ve never seen a more sated female in my life.”

  Annoyed at her suddenly hot face, Melissa denied it. “You’re imagining things.”

  “Nooooo kidding. Is he six-feet-four or so with long-lashed, bedroom eyes and a body to die for?”

  “That could be anybody.”

  “You think I was born yesterday? Not in my estimation, it couldn’t. That man doesn’t even come in pairs. If I’d spent the night in his bed, I’d be walking around with a silly smile on my face, too. Go girl!” She ducked into a booth, and Melissa checked her face in the mirror, but detected nothing different. Still smiling, she sauntered back to her office.

  She examined her email and called her New York office for confirmation. She’d read correctly, but the secretary she shared had no explanation as to why she would be the subject of a private investigator’s sleuthing. The woman called a few minutes later to know whether Melissa would participate in a roundtable discussion on women in business. She said she’d consider it. She checked her mail again. The Houston lawyer named Cooper hadn’t despaired in his effort to hire MTG to find a manager for his two thousand-acre-ranch. She wasn’t inclined to take the job, but the man was persistent, and the search would be a big enough challenge to keep her mind off of Adam.

  “It ought to keep me so busy I won’t have time to daydream,” she said, and asked the man to offer a contract. But two hours passed and she’d done nothing but relive those moments in Adam’s arms. She’d been afraid to let herself go, but he had soothed, coached, and loved her until she did. Shivers coursed through her as she remembered his sweet urging.

  “Give yourself to me, sweetheart. I’m your man, and you belong to me—you’ll never belong to anybody else. Give it up, Melissa. I’ll make you mine, if it takes me a week.” She’d looked up at his perspiring face and into his desire-laden eyes, and he’d twisted his hips and whispered her name. “Melissa, my baby, I need to feel you explode all around me.” And she had exploded, had lost her will as though he’d tossed her in a whirlwind of ecstasy. Frustrated, she stuffed some papers into her briefcase and went home.

  * * *

  She answered the telephone after the first ring, hoping to hear Adam’s voice. “If you had been home last night, you’d know that somebody shot your cousin Timmy. Louise said he came home with his arm bleeding, and he’s sure it was one of the Roundtrees or their men. I guess now you’ll stay away from Adam Roundtree. It was probably him anyway, because everything was fine here until he came back.”

  She tuned him out and realized it was the first time she’d ever done that while her father spoke. She didn’t want to hear Adam criticized, but if a Roundtree or one of their men had shot her cousin, she had disgraced herself with Adam.

  “What time did it happen, Daddy?”

  “About ten o’clock. Why?”

  Her adrenaline began a rapid flow, and joy suffused her. “I can’t imagine who did it, Daddy,” she said, “but I’m certain of one thing. It wasn’t Adam.”

  “You dare defend him when he’s wounded your blood relative?”

  She could imagine that his eyes narrowed and the veins in his forehead protruded as they always did when his temper flared. It occurred to her that what she’d say next might be the last words he ever heard, but she had to say them.

  “Daddy, I was with Adam until midnight. It wasn’t Adam.”

  “You— How could you?” he sputtered and hung up.

  “Now I’ve really done it,” she moaned. “There’s no way I can continue to see Adam. Daddy will find an excuse to hurt him, maybe even prosecute him.”

  * * *

  With reluctance, she answered her doorbell to find her mother, the first time Emily had visited her. Their greeting reflected their newfound warmth, and they walked into Melissa’s living room arm in arm.

  “This is a wonderful surprise, Mama. Tell me nothing’s wrong.”

  Emily Grant walked around the room, touching little objects, admiring her daughter’s taste. She lingered before a group of family snapshots that Melissa had set in little silver frames. “I never realized that you were so well organized, so neat, or that you preferred these muted colors that your father adores.”

  Melissa laughed. She knew when someone was buying time. “Mama, surely you don’t consider green and antique gold muted. You’ve got these same colors in your bedroom, along with a little hot orange, I should add. Now tell me what’s bothering you.”

  “You’re father’s up to something. He and Booker—you know the deputy sheriff, that crooked brother-in-law of his—well, they’ve had their heads together all morning, and for some reason, Rafer didn’t take him to the office but brought him home, and they’re closeted in his room.”

  “Just a minute. Let me get the door. You don’t think Daddy followed you over here, do you?”

  “Hardly. He was trying to convince Booker about something, but I couldn’t hear them too clearly.”

  Melissa opened the door. Adam. Excitement boiled up in her, and her heart started a fast gallop as she looked at him.

  “Hi.” He didn’t speak but bent to kiss her at about the same time as his gaze fell on Melissa’s mother, who stood in the foyer a few feet away. Adam straightened up and looked

  into the eyes of Emily Grant, then he pulled Melissa into his arms and kissed her waiting lips.

  * * *

  Melissa knew Adam wondered why she’d let him give her a lingering kiss in her mother’s presence and why she didn’t move out of his arms. Still holding on to him, she turned to her mother.

  “Mama, you must know this is Adam Roundtree. Adam, this is my mother, Emily Morris Grant.” Adam released her, walked over to Melissa’s mother and extended his hand. His surprise at Emily’s warm response was obvious, and when she continued to hold his hand, he remarked on his delight in meeting her.

  “I don’t want to interrupt your visit,” he added, “I can talk with Melissa later.”

  “Please don’t leave on my account, Adam. I’ll just run along. You didn’t come over here midday on Monday without a good reason. And when I called Melissa’s o
ffice and found out that she’d gone home so early even though she wasn’t sick, I tell you I was mystified. You two must have something to talk about, and I don’t want to get in the way.”

  Melissa wanted her mother and Adam to be friends, though she doubted that her father would tolerate it, and she knew she’d better seize the moment. “Come on in here and have a seat. I’ll get us something to drink,” she offered, ushering them into the living room. She rushed to make tea and fresh coffee, fearing that tension might develop between her mother and Adam if she left them together for too long. She returned a few minutes later to find them comfortably engaged in conversation, and her mother’s words rang in her ear.

  “I don’t have any ill will against anybody, Adam. Hatred ruined my life.”

  She watched Adam scrutinize her mother as if he could see inside of her, and it struck Melissa that Adam adopted that penetrating stare when sizing up his opponents.

  Emily must have sensed it, too, because she told him, “I’m not your enemy, Adam. I know Rafer would like to see the last of you and all your kinfolk, but I don’t know of anything that he and I think alike on.”

  Adam patted her hand, crossed his knee, threw his head back as if meditating and then abruptly sat forward. Melissa knew he had just made up his mind about something important.

  “Rafer has accused me of shooting your cousin Timothy,” he told them, his gaze fixed on Melissa. She knew why he hadn’t told her over the phone, that he wanted to watch her reaction.

  “I told Daddy that charge was ridiculous, that you were with me until midnight.” She carefully avoided looking at her mother.

  “Why did you decide to be with me last night? There’ve been many other times when the situation was just as compelling, just as urgent, and you sent me on my way. But yesterday afternoon you went with me without hesitation. Are you for me or against me?”

  Melissa bristled. “How dare you suggest that I’d cheapen myself by taking subterfuge to the point where I’d—” She remembered that her mother sat three feet away and tried to cool off.

  “Do you think I haven’t wondered whether you were keeping me occupied while Wayne or one of your men went after Timmy? I haven’t read any proclamation attesting to the spotless lives of the Hayes-Roundtree clan, so back off.”

  “Adam. Melissa,” Emily began in a troubled voice. “Will you two stop it? Can’t you see what you’re doing to each other?”

  Adam turned on her. “You’re not against a relationship between Melissa and me. Why is that?” Melissa watched in horror as tears glistened in her mother’s eyes and prayed that she’d be able to hold them back. She knew that the loss of dignity in Adam’s presence would humiliate her mother.

  Emily opened her handbag, pulled out a tissue, and blew her nose. “I’ve been a victim of this stupid feud for the last thirty-one years, and I pray to God I live to see the end of it.”

  “I’ve never raised a gun to anybody,” Adam assured them, “and I don’t know that I could. Life is precious.” His gaze shifted to Melissa’s face, and she read his silent message. Precious, as you are precious. From the corner of her eyes, she glimpsed the silver-tipped red feather that she’d placed in a tiny crystal vase and walked over to the mantelpiece where it stood. She handed it to her mother, and Emily remarked on its elegance and uniqueness.

  “This is lovely. Unusual.”

  Melissa was still learning her mother’s ways, and Emily startled her when she grinned devilishly, as if she knew Adam had given her daughter the little gift.

  Melissa’s voice tittered with emotion. “Yes,” she answered as her gaze adored Adam. “Someone very special gave it to me.” The twinkle in his eyes glowed until it enveloped his face, and his lips moved with unspoken words that she couldn’t decipher. She glanced over at her mother, then back at Adam, and fought her need to rush to him and feel his man’s strength surround her. As though compelled to touch her, he slid a finger down her right cheek while the impassioned turbulence of his eyes caressed her face. Mesmerized, she leaned into him and gloried in the feel of his strong arms around her.

  “I’d better be going,” he told them, his tone indicating a reluctance to heed his words. Melissa nodded and opened the door. Adam turned to Emily.

  “I’m glad you were here. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

  Melissa watched Adam brace himself against the wind and strike out for his office and knew she couldn’t turn their relationship around nor change what she felt for him. She loved him more today than yesterday. More now than an hour ago. Anxious that she and Adam had disclosed to her mother how intimate they had become, she pivoted sharply, ready for a lecture.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Mama, and I’m sorry you witnessed that exchange, but I couldn’t let Adam take the blame for something I knew he didn’t do.” Her mother’s intense scrutiny irked her, but the words she heard told her that she needn’t have been concerned.

  “Why apologize?” Emily asked her. “You’re twenty-eight years old. When a woman and a man love each other and they’re not obligated to anybody else, how they express their passion and their love behind closed door is their business. The government can’t legislate it, and the courts can’t ban it. I only wish I’d been as sensible. Well, I’d better leave—your father will be up in the air as soon as he discovers he’s in that house by himself.”

  * * *

  Adam inclined his head in brief greetings to passersby as he walked swiftly to his office, his dilemma about Melissa’s possible culpability mounting with the seconds. He had to solve it—far more than his family’s reputation and livelihood hinged on it. He wasn’t certain he could give her up even if she was guilty, and if she was and if he didn’t give her up, he faced a complete break with his family. All except B-H. Somehow he didn’t think his uncle would side with Wayne and his mother if— B-H...twice in connection with their relationship, Melissa had suggested he ask his uncle about the long arm of their families’ feud. He made a mental note to speak with B-H.

  As though by agreement, they avoided meeting each other at work or seeing each other outside the building, and they didn’t telephone for several days. Adam had decided he needed to at least talk with her when he answered his phone.

  “Roundtree.”

  “Hi, Roundtree. Grant here.” He wasn’t fooled by her light response, because he figured she’d missed him as much as he’d missed her.

  He shrouded himself in his office demeanor. “What may I do for you?”

  “I thought you’d like to know that I’ve found a position for Dan with another real estate firm, and he’s willing to accept it.”

  “I told you I wouldn’t object to his leaving my staff since he has good reasons, so why are you telling me this? Is there something else?” He heard the hesitancy in her voice and wondered if he’d been too brusque.

  “Sorry, but I thought you’d like to know before I completed the transaction. He’s joining one of your competitors, but he’s assured me that he won’t reveal anything about your business. I do need to talk to you about something else, though.” He listened as she told him of her contract to locate a managing officer for a Pittsburgh real estate firm and knew at once that asking him for tips on what to look for in the applicants was an excuse to talk with him. She didn’t need his advice, and she must be aware that he knew it and that he’d guess she only wanted contact with him.

  “If you need the information urgently, perhaps we could get together for dinner. I’m...” He paused, uncertain. “I’m busy just now. Suppose I pick you up at seven?” He’d planned to go more slowly with her until he solved the problems at Leather and Hides, but he’d detected a need for him in her voice and responded to it.

  He leaned back in his chair, placed his feet with ankles crossed on his desk and buzzed his secretary to come in. “No calls and no visitors until I tell you.” He ignored her inquiring look and glanced at the Jaeger-Lecoutre on his wrist. Three o’clock. He’d see Melissa in four hours. He put his fe
et on the floor and got to work. An hour later he was squeezing his relaxer, annoyed with himself. He was damned if he’d be a slave to his penis just because he’d found a woman who was his soul mate in bed. He’d have dinner with Melissa, take her home, and leave her there. He whistled just to prove to himself that he’d gotten rid of a burden. After another two hours, he realized he’d looked at his watch a dozen times, willing the moments to pass more swiftly. It irritated him. He’d thought that if he made love with her, that would be the end of it. But he’d gotten an astonishing surprise, and he’d need the will of Moses to hold his passion for her in check. But he’d do it.

  * * *

  Bill Henry’s telephone call as she began dressing for dinner with Adam disconcerted Melissa. To her knowledge, he hadn’t previously contacted anyone in her family. Her mother hadn’t heard from him since she’d broken their engagement. Fear streaked through her at the possibility that something might be wrong with Adam, but B-H’s tone reassured her.

  “How is Em— How is your mother?” Stunned, Melissa told him with all the casualness she could muster that Emily had recently visited her, apparently well. His deep sigh and audible release of breath communicated to her his profound relief, jolting her. Would it be her destiny to love so deeply and lose so painfully? She hoped not as she tried without success to calm her mounting excitement at the prospect of being with Adam.

  She knew she shouldn’t have agreed to go to dinner with him, but she couldn’t contain her eagerness to be with him and resigned herself to take whatever came. She dressed in a soft, figure-flattering, berry red, wool knit dress, smoothed her long curls into a French twist and wrapped a strand of pearls around it. She slipped on a pair of black suede dress slippers, dabbed Opium perfume in strategic places, and walked down the stairs just as her doorbell rang.

  “Hi. You look...beautiful. Is this all for me?” Blood rushed to her face, and she ducked her head. He took her hand and entered without waiting for her invitation.