Secrets in the Stone

by Radclyffe

  “I love you inside me.” Adrian rocked the heel of her hand on Rooke’s tense clitoris and then dove inside to tease the spot she’d discovered would make Rooke explode. In and out, in and out.

  “You’re going to make me come,” Rooke murmured against Adrian’s mouth.

  Rooke’s eyes were hazy and unguarded. Fierce love pierced Adrian’s soul and she tumbled into orgasm without warning. She went rigid with the shock and her fingers spasmed, driving Rooke over with her. Adrian trembled in her arms, totally helpless, and totally unafraid.

  “I love you…want you…so much,” Adrian cried.

  “Never want you to stop.” Rooke collapsed with a shattering groan, dropping her head onto Adrian’s shoulder.

  “I won’t stop.” Adrian caressed her damp cheek, stroked her quivering body. She loved knowing all that strength, all that power, was hers. “I adore touching you. I love when you touch me.”

  “I want you all the time.”

  “Good.” Adrian kissed Rooke’s temple. “I need you to want me.”

  Rooke kissed Adrian’s throat. “You’ll have to go away, won’t you. For your work.”

  “Sometimes. Baby—”

  “Will you come back to me?”

  “Oh, baby,” Adrian whispered, trying to hold in so much love that tears escaped. “Yes. Yes, always. I won’t go very far, for very long. I need you too much.”

  “I can get a house, or I can come down here…”

  Adrian leaned back so Rooke could see her face, so she could read the truth. “I don’t care where we are, all I need is you. Tell me you love me.”

  Rooke slipped on top of her and braced herself on her forearms, her gaze as sharp and clear as the lines she carved in stone. “I love you. I will always and forever love you.”

  “And I love you,” Adrian whispered. “Always and forever.”

  *

  “Don’t answer it,” Adrian said when Rooke’s cell phone rang for the fifth time that morning. It was noon and they were still in bed. She had no desire to get out of bed anytime in the next century. She felt as if she’d never touched a woman before, never been touched before. She couldn’t stop wanting her.

  “It’s okay.” Rooke kissed her swiftly. “It’s probably Melinda.”

  “Not okay then,” Adrian grumbled. As much as she wanted to grab the phone and rail at Melinda, she held back. Rooke was capable of taking care of herself. “Answer the damn thing.”

  “Hello?”

  Rooke pushed up against the headboard and Adrian curled up against her. The phone was between them and Adrian heard Melinda say, “Rooke love, I’ve been trying to reach you since last night. Are you all right?”

  Rooke sifted her fingers through Adrian’s hair. “I’m fine.”

  “I’m sorry yesterday was trying for you.”

  “I survived.”

  Adrian grit her teeth and rubbed Rooke’s chest. Muscles flickered beneath her fingertips.

  Melinda laughed. “Of course you did, darling. You’re far too strong to be taken anywhere you don’t want to go, by anyone. But I do hope you’ll give me the chance to make it up to you. I promise to take very good care of you.”

  “I’m going to kill her,” Adrian muttered.

  “I agreed to let you show my sculptures,” Rooke said. “That’s as far as our arrangement goes.”

  “You will come to the reception tomorrow night?”

  “Yes. And I’m bringing Adrian.”

  After a moment, Melinda said, “Of course. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you both.”

  When Rooke hung up, Adrian said, “She wants you, you know.”

  “Melinda wants every woman, I think,” Rooke said.

  “She can’t have you. You’re mine.” Adrian stroked Rooke’s abdomen, endlessly fascinated by the ripple of muscles, stacked like bricks beneath satin.

  Rooke pulled Adrian on top of her. “And you are mine. I’ve seen her look at you, and I know what she can do when she turns on her charm.”

  Adrian nipped Rooke’s chin and straddled her. “I’ve had you inside me. No one will ever touch me but you.”

  “Then Melinda has no power, does she.” Rooke cradled Adrian’s hips and guided her in a slow steady circle over her stomach. Her grip tightened as wetness coated her skin.

  “None at all,” Adrian murmured, her lids fluttering closed. “I need you again.”

  “I’m here.”

  Chapter Thirty

  “I’ll say one thing for Melinda. She has excellent taste in clothes,” Adrian said, assessing Rooke’s charcoal Armani. The slightly boxy jacket and tailored trousers accentuated her shoulders and gave her a lean and dangerous look. Adrian crossed the room and put her arms around Rooke’s neck. In the heels she’d chosen to go with her own black raw silk Prada suit, she was slightly taller than Rooke. Her two-button jacket was cut in at the waist and she’d decided not to wear anything under it except a strapless black lace demi bra. “You look incredible in that suit.”

  “We don’t have to stay long, do we?” Rooke pulled Adrian hard against her and nuzzled her neck. “You’re practically naked under there.”

  Adrian laughed. “Baby, we haven’t been out of bed for two days.”

  “Is that bad?” Rooke blazed a trail of kisses from Adrian’s neck to the hollow of her throat and then lower, to the vee between her breasts.

  “No, God no. Not bad. Glorious.” Adrian closed her eyes and gripped the back of Rooke’s head, pressing Rooke’s mouth to the inner curve of her breast. When the burn ignited in her core, she pulled away. “Baby, stop. Another second and I won’t be able to go anywhere. I won’t be able to walk.”

  Rooke raised her head, pupils flaring. “Then let’s not go.”

  “We have to.” Adrian skimmed her fingers through Rooke’s hair, loving the way the ends refused to be tamed, curling over her ears and at the back of her neck. Everything about Rooke hinted at wild energy and unbridled sensuality, and she adored knowing all that passion was hers. “Despite the many ways I want to dismember Melinda, I know that professionally she’s unrivaled. If you can tolerate working with her, then I think we should do what she suggests regarding promotion. If she says this party is important, I’m sure it is.”

  “I can handle Melinda. I’m all right now.” Rooke clasped Adrian lightly around the waist, keeping their lower bodies in contact. “I was thrown when I first got here, but I have you now. I’ll be okay.”

  “Then we should go.” Adrian kissed her swiftly. Rooke might think she could handle Melinda, but she intended to be certain of it.

  *

  As soon as they left the building, Adrian saw the limo idling at the curb. She narrowed her eyes when Valencia stepped out and came around the front of the car. The woman didn’t walk. She prowled. “Did you know Melinda was sending her?”

  “No,” Rooke said. Despite the temperature, Valencia did not wear a topcoat and tonight her black suit was conservatively cut, blunting the feminine angles of her body, and her white shirt and dark tie were equally sedate. Rooke had a fleeting memory of the savage hunger she’d glimpsed in Valencia’s eyes those few seconds in Marguerite’s salon. She felt nothing at all for her now. Not anger, not outrage. If anything, she felt sorry for her. She doubted that Valencia ever managed to satisfy her hunger.

  “Good evening, Rooke. Adrian.” Valencia held open the rear door. Her tone was neutral but her eyes lingered on Rooke as Rooke climbed into the vehicle.

  “In case you have any doubts,” Adrian murmured, “Rooke is not available.”

  Valencia’s eyes glinted darkly and her full, sensual lips thinned, but she nodded in assent. Satisfied, Adrian slipped inside. When the door closed, she put her arm around Rooke’s waist and rested her cheek against Rooke’s shoulder.

  “I’m having a sign made for you.” Adrian kissed a spot just below Rooke’s ear. When Rooke shuddered, she felt a thrill of satisfaction. “Property of Adrian Oakes.”

  Rooke laughed. “I
think that might be overkill.”

  “I know you do.” Adrian kissed the angle of Rooke’s jaw and very subtly rubbed her breasts against Rooke’s arm. “One of the many things I love about you.”

  “Adrian,” Rooke’s voice carried a warning, “if you want us to go to this thing, you have to stop exciting me all the time.”

  “Can’t. Don’t want to.” Laughing softly, Adrian turned Rooke’s face toward her and kissed her mouth. “Won’t.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Rooke slipped her tongue into Adrian’s mouth, dragging her into the flames. For a few seconds Adrian completely forgot where they were or where they were going. All she knew was the utter sense of completion that flooded her every time Rooke touched her. When Rooke finally released her, she was gasping.

  “Okay, you win,” Adrian murmured. “I’ll behave. Because I’ll be damned if I’ll let Valencia or any of the others have a clue as to what they’re missing.”

  “They’re not missing anything.” Rooke tangled her fingers in Adrian’s hair, tilted her head back and kissed her throat. “Whatever I am, is yours alone.”

  *

  “Rooke love,” Melinda exclaimed as Adrian and Rooke walked into Melinda’s penthouse apartment. She grasped Rooke’s hands and kissed her on both cheeks before turning to Adrian. She stepped very close, her green eyes taking on a heated glow. Her gaze lingered on Adrian’s before slowly tracking down her body and then back to her face. Her breasts, temptingly displayed in a deep V-neck, figure-hugging midnight blue Versace dress, flushed a delicate rose.

  “You look beautiful, darling. And you smell,” Melinda took in a slow breath, her lids flickering, “divine.”

  “Thank you,” Adrian said coolly, grasping Rooke’s hand to anchor herself. Melinda’s desire was tangible, her allure nearly hypnotic. Rooke’s fingers closed on hers, and she deliberately ignored Melinda, looking round the room instead.

  The spacious room commanded an impressive and undoubtedly exorbitantly expensive view of the Hudson. Among the elegantly attired men and women working the room, she recognized a few reporters and art critics from after-show press parties she’d been to with Jude. Others were family business acquaintances. Some she only recognized from the gossip columns.

  “Quite the gathering,” Adrian remarked.

  Melinda glanced at Rooke, her expression rapacious. “She deserves it. Don’t you think?”

  “I do,” Adrian said. “That’s why we’re here.”

  “Let me take her to meet some of her soon-to-be adoring public, then.” Looking supremely satisfied, Melinda threaded her arm through Rooke’s. “I’ll take good care of her.”

  Adrian tried not to clench her jaw, but couldn’t quite manage it, and said through her teeth, “Be sure that you do this time.”

  Melinda raised an eyebrow, then smiled secretively. “We’ll come find you, darling. Don’t worry.”

  Rooke held back and kissed Adrian’s cheek. “I’ll be back soon. Will you be all right?”

  “I’ve survived worse at my parents’ parties,” Adrian said, grazing Rooke’s chest with her fingertips. She hated to let her go. She hated the absence of her touch. She also understood that what Rooke needed most was to know that she would always be there for her. “I’m so proud of you. Go. I’ll be waiting.”

  “I love you,” Rooke whispered, and then she was gone.

  Adrian shivered, as if someone had opened a window and let in a blast of cold air. For a second, she panicked as the crowd closed in on her, and then she remembered the overwhelming sense of love and desire and safety she’d experienced waking in Rooke’s arms that morning. Her flesh, her spirit, drew strength from the total trust and utter sense of belonging she’d felt with Rooke beside her. Inside her. She was not alone, she was not vulnerable. She was loved.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” a beautiful brunette with striking turquoise eyes and a voice like a siren’s song murmured close to her ear.

  “No, thank you,” Adrian said.

  “I haven’t seen you at one of Melinda’s gatherings before.” The brunette’s expression telegraphed interest. “Are you here alone?”

  “No. I’m definitely not alone. If you’ll excuse me.”

  Adrian worked her way through the gathering, speaking to those she knew while watching Melinda and Rooke make the circuit. Rooke seemed at ease, and some of her anxiety abated. After she judged that Melinda had had enough time to make appropriate introductions, she set out to reassert her claim on Rooke.

  Her arm was grasped by a distinguished-looking middle-aged man, and she halted abruptly.

  “Adrian? Is that you? I didn’t realize you were back in the country.”

  “Hello, Jeremy,” Adrian said, trying and failing to peer around the New Yorker arts editor without being obvious. By the time they’d exchanged pleasantries and the obligatory small talk, she’d completely lost sight of Rooke. Furthermore, she couldn’t find Melinda. The chill she’d experienced earlier settled around her heart like a block of ice. Everyone faded from her awareness as she cut her way toward a hallway on the far side of the room. Rooke was there, she knew it.

  The first room she looked into, an apparent guest room, was empty. A door at the other end of the hall was slightly ajar, and she pushed it open. Melinda’s bedroom, she presumed, since Melinda stood next to the king-size bed.

  “Where is she?” Adrian demanded.

  “Hello, darling. Your timing is exquisite.” Melinda glided over to her. “Rooke handled everyone marvelously, but I thought she needed a little break so I spirited her away somewhere quiet.”

  “To your bedroom?”

  “She’s in the bathroom freshening up, darling.” Melinda gave her an innocent look before running a fingertip down Adrian’s bare arm. “I’m sorry we’ve been neglecting you. I couldn’t wait to be alone with you and our Rooke.”

  “There is no our Rooke.” Adrian barely registered Melinda’s hand on her arm. Her caress felt as inconsequential as rain sluicing off marble. “There never has been, there never will be.”

  “Something’s happened,” Melinda said quietly, searching Adrian’s eyes as if the answer were in their depths. Maybe it was. “You’ve slept with her.”

  Adrian almost laughed. Shaking her head, she said, “Melinda. It’s much more than that. Can’t you feel it?”

  Melinda caught her breath before quickly masking her shock with a smile. “You always were more open to me than she was, but now… You did more than sleep with her.” She shook her head. “You’re together, aren’t you?”

  “Completely.”

  “If I told you that I could show you both more pleasure than you ever drea—”

  “No,” Adrian said, “you couldn’t. We have each other—that’s all we need. Everything we need.”

  “Well.” Melinda sighed. “I shall try to survive my broken heart.”

  “I don’t care what you have to do, as long as you don’t touch her. Ever.” Adrian slipped her arm from Melinda’s grasp. “And keep your friends away from her.”

  “Believe me, they’ve been dealt with.” Anger flashed in Melinda’s eyes. “They mistook her for one of our playmates. They won’t make the same error again.”

  “I’d ask for your word, if I thought you would keep it.”

  “You have it, but you know you don’t need it,” Melinda said. “Can’t you feel it?”

  “I can’t feel you at all,” Adrian said.

  “Precisely.”

  Adrian turned as Rooke walked into the room. “Hi, baby.”

  “Hi.” Rooke kissed her. “Melinda, am I done with the show-and-tell?”

  “For tonight, love,” Melinda said.

  “Good.” Rooke curved an arm around Adrian’s shoulders. “I want to go back to Ford’s Crossing tomorow.”

  “I’ll need you here the week of the opening. We have a very busy pre-show schedule then.” Melinda looked from Rooke to Adrian. “All right?”

  “That’s Rook
e’s call,” Adrian said.

  “Fine.” Rooke kept her arm around Adrian as they walked down the hall to rejoin the party. “I don’t like this part very much, but I feel a lot better when you’re with me.”

  “Then I’ll be sure to stay right by your side,” Adrian said softly.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Adrian stood at the window in her grandmother’s library, watching the river road through a thin swirl of snow, arms wrapped tightly around her middle in a futile attempt to ward off the chill she couldn’t seem to shake. She’d expected Rooke hours ago, and as every moment passed, she grew more and more uneasy. Last night had been the first night she’d slept alone since Manhattan, and although her dreams had finally been free of the tormenting erotic images and the foreboding sense of loss, she’d nevertheless awakened tired and unsettled. She knew why. She hadn’t awakened in Rooke’s arms.

  She never would have imagined that such a short time away from a lover would affect her this way. When Rooke had told her on the train ride back to Ford’s Crossing that she needed to work, wanted to work, as soon as she got home, Adrian had understood completely. Rooke’s art was crucial to her life.

  “I have work to do too, baby,” she’d said. When the cab they’d taken from the train station slowed in front of her grandmother’s house, she’d kissed Rooke quickly before sliding out. “Call me later?”

  “As soon as I can. I love you,” Rooke said.

  “I love you too, baby.”

  But Rooke hadn’t called, and now it was the next day. Rooke hadn’t come to start the work on the house the way she’d said she would either. Rooke didn’t answer her phone, and Adrian didn’t know what to do with herself. She wasn’t hungry. She couldn’t concentrate on her research. She didn’t call her grandmother because she knew when they spoke she’d tell her about Rooke, about being in love with her, and when she did they would fight. The way she felt right now, she’d say something that would create a rift they’d never heal.