Harbour Falls
Page 15
There was an array of shampoos and body washes along the ledge at the back of the tub. I had to smile to myself because, surely, Trina had put those items there. I just could not picture Adam mulling over scented body washes nor shampoos that promised “thick, luxurious” hair.
Turning away from the tub, I faced a wall of mirrors. I unbuttoned my ruined shirt and let it fall to the floor. Turning my back to the mirror, I craned my neck to see the damage J.T. had wrought. A row of yellowing, bluish-black bruises marred my lower back. Ouch! Although, as bad as it looked, there didn’t appear to be any major swelling, and the aching had mostly subsided. Sighing, I finished undressing. After washing up some and brushing my teeth, I put on the hot pink cami and black silk shorts I’d brought from home.
Tentatively I stepped back into the bedroom. Adam was standing by the bed, and he looked like he had freshened up as well. In fact, he looked amazing. He wore a pair of navy pajama bottoms that hung low on his hips and absolutely nothing else. Oh my.
No doubt sensing my ogling, Adam looked up, blue eyes alight. “Maddy.” An ebony lock of hair fell across his forehead, and he raked it back into place. “I brought up some ice” —he held up a bag that was loosely wrapped in a dark hand towel— “for your back.”
My feet seemed to be stuck in place, and my thoughts were muddled. Yeah, Adam—half-naked and unwittingly oozing sex appeal—had that effect.
“Maddy?” he questioned, concern streaking across his features. “Is something wrong?”
“Sorry,” I mumbled, getting a grip and making my way across the room. “I was just lost in thought.”
I took a seat on the edge of the bed, next to where Adam stood. It was then that I noticed abrasions on the knuckles of his right hand. Marks he’d received from defending me.
Adam adjusted the hand towel around the ice pack and sat down next to me. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to my back. I nodded, and Adam lifted the back hem of my cami, just high enough to apply the ice.
Wincing, more from the cold than the pain, I said, “I saw your hand, Adam. You should get some ice for that too.”
“I’m fine,” he replied. “O’Brien deserved worse than I gave him for what he did to you.”
Still coming to terms with the fact that someone who used to be one of my closest friends had done something so terrible, I asked softly, “Do you think I’m doing the right thing?” I paused and looked down. “Pressing charges, that is.”
Adam nudged my chin. “Yes, I do,” he said as our eyes met.
“J.T. will get the help he needs this way,” I murmured, unconvinced even as I said it.
Adam breathed in deeply and then exhaled a long sigh. “He needs more help than what some half-assed, overcrowded Harbour Falls facility can offer. But let’s just hope it sticks this time.”
Well, it was pretty clear Adam didn’t expect J.T. to get any better. With all the bad blood between them, it didn’t surprise me. “You knew, didn’t you?” I asked quietly. “About J.T. and Chelsea, I mean. You knew when they started seeing each other? Again, after the engagement.”
I glanced over to find Adam staring at me intently, his body tense. “Yes,” he said, “I knew.”
“When did you find out?”
He raked his free hand through his hair and over his face, while the hand holding the ice bag shifted. “I found out shortly after it started back up. I knew every time they saw each other. Every time, Maddy, right up until the end.”
I reached back and pulled the ice out of his hand. After placing it on the bedside table, I turned so we were facing one another. “How did you know so much?” I asked, my voice hardly more than a whisper.
Adam hesitated, his expression dark, and then said, “Suffice it to say, I have my ways.”
“Did you know about the other…men?” My voice weakened on the last word, and then I whispered, “And the drugs?”
Our eyes locked, his full of a fury that spoke of betrayal. “Yes, I knew,” he said curtly, his jaw tensing. “It took awhile, but eventually I was made aware of all those things.”
This was it. This was the opportunity I’d been waiting for. There’d never be a more perfect time to ask. Spurred on by all he’d shared so far, I steeled myself, sat up straighter. “Why were you still going to marry her? You knew all those things, yet you got engaged. You were still going to go through with the wedding. Why, Adam, why?”
Adam shifted away, rubbing his hands over his face once more. Although this time they remained over his face. “It’s complicated,” he mumbled, his words muffled.
I took a deep breath. “She had something on you, didn’t she? I hate to ask, Adam, but I have to know.” I paused, the silence deafening. “Was Chelsea blackmailing you?”
He dropped his hands listlessly to his sides and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “I was wondering when this was going to come up,” he said, bitterness creeping into his tone.
Time ticked away slowly, Adam silent as he continued to stare up at the blank ceiling.
“Adam?” I said at last, my voice shaky. “Are you going to say something?”
He sat up abruptly and fisted one of the many pillows on the bed. With his blue eyes stormier than I’d ever seen, he leaned forward and held my gaze. “Why, Madeleine, would I tell you something that I definitely do not want to see exploited in some book?”
His harsh words cut to the quick. “I’d never publish anything like that!” I protested loudly.
Adam laughed derisively. “Really, Maddy?” He cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t that the sole reason for you even being here?”
It was, but it was no longer the only reason. Yes, I was here to research the mystery so I could write my next novel. But now that I was involved with Adam, I knew adjustments would have to be made. I wouldn’t be able to just recklessly recount everything I’d discovered. After all, I was starting to care for some of these Harbour Falls Mystery players. Especially one in particular…and it hurt to realize he trusted me so little. Because, really, all he’d told me up to this point were things I already either knew or suspected.
“I’d never write anything that would end up hurting you,” I said quietly, biting down on my lip and looking away.
My words were true. I had no intention of divulging secrets that could destroy him. Maybe I’d have to reconsider, go back to writing a work of fiction. I could use the information I’d obtained but change the details, fictionalize it. After all, I was a fiction writer.
Adam suddenly cupped my chin, urging me to meet his eyes. Deep, deep blue, the darkest blue, tormented. Did he want to tell me? What was holding him back?
With his hand in place, I couldn’t turn away. Adam said very slowly, “Ask me the question. Again.”
My heart raced. “Was Chelsea blackmailing you?”
“Yes.” Adam paused, releasing my chin but keeping his eyes trained on me. “There’s your answer. Are you happy now?”
I shook my head. “No, of course not.”
I felt queasy. It was difficult to hear him confirm what so many had suspected.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what it was?” Adam chuckled, though it was an empty action, devoid of humor. “That’s always the next question.”
“Um, was it something illegal?” I croaked.
Adam looked at me like I was an idiot. “Hmm, you could say that.”
His eyes were so intense that I dropped my gaze to focus, instead, on a light smattering of freckles that peppered his right shoulder. I cleared my throat. “Did you hurt somebody?”
I was terrified to hear his answer, so I counted freckles in time with my beating heart. One, two, please say no. Three, four, please say no.
“No, Madeleine, I did not hurt anyone.” Adam paused, and I released a whoosh of air I hadn’t even realized I was ho
lding. “In fact, I can assure you it’s probably none of the things you’re thinking.”
Relief and gratitude washed over me in the knowledge that whatever it was, at least he hadn’t injured—or done worse to—God forbid, some innocent person. Throwing caution to the wind, I wrapped my arms around him, the heat of his bare skin permeating through the thin material of my camisole. “Thank you,” I whispered.
I wasn’t exactly sure why I was thanking Adam. I guessed it was because he had actually answered my questions, and so far it didn’t really sound like he’d done anything too horrific. Maybe what he’d done wasn’t even anything illegal? Or maybe it was something that had been illegal at the time? Then again…
Relieved and lost in thought, I brushed my lips over that peppering of freckles on his shoulder. Adam lay back once again, absently curving my body to his while resting a hand on my hip.
Between butterfly kisses down his shoulder, over his bicep, I decided to press my luck and push for more information. “So Chelsea knew this secret…and she threatened to expose it…if you refused to marry her?”
On my hip his hand flexed. “Uh-huh,” he mumbled wearily.
I really was incredibly intrigued. How had Chelsea uncovered this terrible secret? Had he confided in her? Or had she somehow stumbled upon the damning information?
When no more information was forthcoming, I sat up suddenly. Adam’s hand fell away from my hip. I searched for clues in his perfect features. I willed him with my eyes to share. My mind screamed: What was it?
Adam, perceptive as always, sighed, “Maddy, I’ve already told you more than I’ve ever told anyone. You do understand why I can’t give you any more details, right?”
I shrugged. “It’s not like I’d run and tell the world, Adam. I just told you I wouldn’t write—”
Adam cut me off and sat up. “Why would I even put you—or myself—in a position like that?”
“So it’s a matter of trust?” I accused, stung. “You want me to trust you, but you don’t trust me. At all.”
“Oh, you trust me?” he shot back dubiously. “Because as I recall in Boston, you said you thought you trusted me, but then you refused to even tell me what the fuck was going on when you found out about a phone call from four fucking years ago!”
“I did tell you!” I yelled, outraged.
“Only after I chased you down and pried it out of you,” he yelled back.
Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. In a lowered voice, he asked, “So which is it, Maddy? Do you trust me? Or not?”
How had this turned into a conversation about me?
“I trust you, Adam,” I said quietly, casting my eyes down. And I did trust him. To a point.
I continued, “I know you’re just trying to protect us both, but”—our eyes met—“if we are ever going to have a chance, eventually, Adam, you are going to have to trust me enough to tell me the truth. All of it.”
He took my hand and pulled me to him, and then he eased us down into the pillows as he reached up and turned off the bedside lamps.
“Maddy, Maddy. Eventually, huh?” he asked, the playfulness back in his voice. “You’re willing to wait?”
I nestled into him and nodded. “Yes, I can wait, for now. But eventually, yeah.”
His fingers ghosted over the thin strap of my cami, sending a warm shiver through me. Despite being extremely tired, a part of me desperately wanted to stay awake. All the heightened emotions were fueling my desire to feel physically close to Adam. I hooked a leg over him and pressed myself to his firm body, eliciting a surprised, shaky exhale of air from him. Encouraged, I ran my hand down his chest until I reached his abdomen.
Adam placed his hand over mine. “Maddy, don’t start something you aren’t willing to finish,” he said in a husky, low voice.
I really was too exhausted to enjoy much of anything if I continued down this path, literally and figuratively. It had ended up being a trying day, and we were both in dire need of some sleep.
Adam must have sensed my reticence, because he said softly, “We should sleep, for now.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I agreed as I moved my hand back up to rest on the smooth planes of his chest. “Will you stay though?”
I didn’t want to sleep alone, not tonight.
“If it will help you sleep better, of course,” he said.
Propping himself up on an elbow, he leaned over to press his lips to mine. We kissed—oh so slowly and gently—until I was positively dizzy. Pulling back, Adam said in a low voice, “Oh, Maddy, the things I’m going to do to you.”
He caressed my cheek, his hand drifting down to my neck, over the swell of my breasts, a brush of fingers across my stomach, and then lower, lower, until his hand rested dangerously close to… A moan escaped my lips, and I asked breathily, “When?”
Adam plopped back against the pillows, chuckling. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said slyly. “Let’s say…eventually.”
I huffed, feigning indignation, and tried half-heartedly to roll to the other side of the enormous bed. But he easily caught me in his arms and eased me back to lie against him.
We’d reached an impasse, of sorts, but, for this night, I was fine with where we were.
“Good night, Adam,” I said, closing my eyes.
“’Night, Maddy.”
Chapter 13
I woke up only once in the middle of the night, entangled in Adam—stretched across his bare chest, his arm draped over my shoulder, I tilted my head back just enough to watch him sleep. He seemed so peaceful, so at rest. Wishing for Adam to find that kind of contentment in his waking life, I laid my head back on his chest and allowed his steady heartbeats to lull me back to sleep.
The second time I woke up, though my eyes remained closed, I could tell it was morning. Something velvety trailed across my cheek, tickling my skin. I lifted my hand to brush it away, smiling, and heard Adam chuckle. Opening my eyes, the first thing I saw was Adam and, in his hand, a vibrant red rose.
Tentatively I touched the petals, the texture as velvety as when he’d brushed them across my cheek. Adam stretched out across the bed, already dressed for the day in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. “For you,” he said, handing me the flower and wowing me with one of his drop-dead smiles.
I took the rose and inhaled the sweet fragrance of the bloom. “How’d you locate a red rose here on this island on such short notice, Adam?”
He leaned close, trailing kisses along my cheek, following the path he’d made with the rose. “For you, Maddy, I can make anything happen,” he murmured.
No doubt he could. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.” I smiled, truly appreciative of his sweet gesture.
“Oh, there’s one more thing.” He rose from the bed and made his way over to the doorway. As he disappeared into the hallway, he called back, “I hope you’re hungry.”
I was kind of hungry, now that he’d mentioned it, so I sat up and craned my neck to see what Adam was doing in the hallway. He soon appeared in the doorway, holding a breakfast tray laden with a delectable presentation of food. “Wow,” I mouthed, impressed by the presentation, not to mention the image of this gorgeous man bringing it to me.
Once Adam reached me, he placed the tray across my lap and sat down next to me. “A vegetable omelet, toast, fruit, and orange juice,” he said, pointing to each of the items on the tray as he listed them off. “Hope this meets with your approval, Ms. Fitch,” he added as he slipped the red rose from my fingers and slid it into a slender, water-filled vase on the corner of the tray.
“Thank you. It looks delicious,” I said, touched that the powerful Adam Ward was serving me breakfast in his bed.
I took a tentative bite of the omelet and found myself pleasantly surprised at just how mouthwatering it was. “Mmm, A
dam,” I said between enthusiastic bites. “This is so good. Did you make this yourself?”
“I did,” he replied, chuckling. “Is it that shocking that I can cook?”
I thought it over for a minute. “I guess not. You certainly seem to excel in everything you do.”
Adam cocked an eyebrow, and I rolled my eyes, despite the fact that I was actually rather anxious to find out just what kinds of other things Adam excelled in. But instead of sharing those thoughts with him, I said, “You know what I mean.”
“I do,” he purred. “But believe me, Maddy, I make it my mission to excel in everything I do.” He trailed his hand down my bare arm, leaving goose bumps in his wake. “And I do mean everything.”
I wanted Adam in every way imaginable. I was sure he knew his words made my body ache for his touch. But it was more than that. Despite everything I was clearly falling for Adam a little more with each passing day. I just didn’t know if he felt the same way. True, he’d made it clear he didn’t view me as just some new sexual plaything, like Lindsey. But could he ever truly fall for me?
Lost in those thoughts, I failed to respond, and Adam coughed a little. Sensing my hesitation he smoothly changed the subject. “We’d actually better get going soon. Max is expecting us.”
“Right,” I mumbled into my orange juice. I’d almost forgotten about pressing charges against J.T. Almost.
Before Adam drove me back to my cottage to change, I reluctantly threw on the clothes I’d worn the day before, grimacing when the smell of stale whiskey hit my nose. And after showering back at my own place, I was only too happy to throw the offending shirt in the trash. Actually a part of me wanted to burn it. Damn J.T., what an ass.
Wanting now to get this over with and forget about it, I hurried back downstairs. I practically ran to the front door, passing by Adam as he stood waiting for me in the living room. “OK,” I yelled over my shoulder. “I’m ready.”