The Second Mrs. Adams

by Sandra Marton

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “What was all that, about you caring how things once were between us?”

  Joanna’s shoulders slumped. “I was just babbling. Besides, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “The hell it doesn’t!” He caught her face in his hand and forced her eyes to meet his. “Does it really matter to you, how things used to be?”

  She stared at him, warning herself not to let go, to hang on to what little remained of her self-respect…but it was too late. The words were there, bursting from her heart and her lips.

  “Damn you, David,” she cried, “I’ll always care!” Color stained her cheeks, giving her a wild, proud look. “Do you feel better, now? Wasn’t it enough that I couldn’t live up to your standards?”

  “What the hell are you talking about? What standards?”

  “Your wealth. Your status. Your friends. You married me without really thinking about whether or not I’d fit into your life, and then you woke up one morning and realized that I didn’t.”

  “You mean, I woke up one morning and discovered that my beautiful Gypsy had changed into a…a…” David let go of her, flung up his arms and paced across the room. “I don’t know how to describe what you’d become! A woman who cared more about other people than about me, who was determined to turn this damned house into a mausoleum, who didn’t want me to touch her—”

  His words faded way. He looked at her, and suddenly Joanna could see the anguish in his eyes.

  “Why, Jo? Why did you turn to ice whenever I tried to make love to you? More than anything else, that damn near killed me.”

  “Because…because…” Joanna took a deep breath. It was a moment for truth, and she would see it through. “Because I was ashamed of…of how I was, whenever we…we made love.”

  David stared at her in disbelief. “Ashamed? My God, why?”

  Joanna’s head drooped. Her voice came out a whisper. “She never said anything, not about that. I’d never mentioned—I would never talk about something so intimate.” She laced her hands together to stop their trembling. “But…but she’d hinted. About certain things that I might do or say that would seem coarse…”

  David crossed the room with quick strides. “Who?” he said through his teeth. “Who hinted?”

  “I did try, David. To do what she said. To be the right wife for you.”

  “Who told you these things, Joanna?” But with gut-wrenching swiftness, he knew, and he could feel the blood heating in his veins. “Who told you that you weren’t what I wanted in a wife?”

  “Morgana,” Joanna whispered. “She tried so hard to help me make myself over, but it was useless.”

  David’s arms swept around her. “Listen to me,” he said. “And look at me, so you’ll know that what I’m about to tell you is the truth.” He waited until she raised her head and then he took a deep breath. “I never wanted you to change, Gypsy. I loved you, just as you were.”

  “But Morgana said…”

  “She lied.”

  “Why? Why would she have lied, David? She was so kind to me. Even this week, when I had nowhere to go, she took me into her apartment…”

  David’s eyes darkened with rage. “You spent this week with Morgana? I was tearing this miserable city upside down to find you and she had you tucked away all the time?”

  His voice was cold as stone, and just as hard. It sent a shudder down Joanna’s spine.

  “Yes. After she told me about the divorce, after I remembered everything…” Joanna caught her breath. “Did you say you’d tried to find me?”

  David drew her closer. “I went crazy this past week,” he said gruffly. “Don’t you know how much I love you?”

  Joanna sighed. She lifted her arms and looped them around his neck.

  “No,” she said, with a little smile. “You’re just going to have to tell me.”

  “For the rest of our lives,” David said, and just then the door burst open.

  “Mr. David?” Mrs. Timmons said, “are you…?” Her eyes widened. “Mrs. Adams. I didn’t know you’d come back, ma’am. I’m terribly sorry to disturb you, but—”

  Morgana pushed the housekeeper aside and came sweeping into the room.

  “David,” she said importantly, “I’ve seen Joanna, and I think you should know…” Her face turned white with shock but she recovered quickly. “She’s here already, I see. David, I don’t know what she’s told you but I assure you, it’s all lies!”

  David put his arm around Joanna’s shoulders. The green chips of sea ice that were his eyes told the whole story.

  “If you were a man,” he said softly, “I’d beat the crap out of you and smile while I did it.”

  “Please, David, I can explain—”

  “Get out!”

  “This snip of a girl isn’t for you. She’s…she’s…”

  David let go of Joanna and took a step forward. “You lying bitch! If I ever see your face again, I won’t be responsible for my actions. Now, get out of this house and out of our lives or so help me, I’ll throw you out!”

  Morgana drew herself stiffly erect. “You’ll regret losing me some day, but it will be too late then. I’m giving you one last chance to come to your senses—”

  She cried out as Mrs. Timmons grasped the back of her collar and hustled her out of the room. The door slammed shut. There was a cry of outrage, then the sound of the front door opening and closing, and then there was silence.

  “David?” Joanna looked up at her husband. “Do you think she’s all right?”

  David drew his wife into his arms. “I don’t really care,” he said. His mouth twitched. “Yes, I’m sure she’s fine. But after this I’ll think twice about ever crossing Mrs. Timmons.”

  Joanna laughed softly and linked her hands behind his neck.

  “Have I told you lately that I love you, Mr. Adams?”

  David smiled. “Welcome home, Mrs. Adams,” he said softly and then, for long, long moments, there was no need for either of them to say anything at all.

  EPILOGUE

  Five years later

  “KATE? Benjamin? Where are you?”

  Joanna sighed as the sound of childish giggles spilled from the old-fashioned country kitchen behind her.

  “Your daddy’s car is going to be coming up that road any minute and if you want to be ready to go outside and greet him, you’d better show yourselves and let me get your boots on.” She waited. “OK,” she said, “I’m going to count to three and then whoever’s not standing right in front of me is going to have to wait in the house. One. Two. Th—”

  “Here I am, Mommy.”

  A little girl with dark hair and eyes the color of violets raced like a whirlwind into the living room.

  “That’s my girl,” Joanna said. She hugged her daughter close and gave her a big kiss. “Now, where’s that brother of yours?”

  “Here, Mommy,” her son sang out, and hurled his chubby, three-year-old self into her outstretched arms. “Daddy’s gonna be here soon.”

  “That’s right, darling. Sit down and let me get these boots on.”

  Benjamin collapsed on the carpet next to his twin sister.

  “He’s gonna bring me a truck,” he said importantly, “with big wheels and a horn that goes beep.”

  Joanna laughed. Her son was the image of his father, with his dark hair and his green eyes. He had his father’s passion, too, for anything on wheels.

  “There we go,” she said. “Almost ready. Just let’s button you guys up…”

  “Ugh,” Kate said.

  “Ugh,” Benjamin echoed.

  “Yes, I know, but it’s cold out and there’s lots and lots of snow…”

  A horn sounded outside the snug Connecticut farmhouse. The children screeched happily and flew out the front door, trundling down the steps clumsily in their boots and snowsuits just as a black Land Rover pulled up. The door opened and David stepped out.

  “Hey,” he said, grinning as he squa
tted down and opened his arms. The children raced into them and he kissed them both, then scooped them up, one in each arm. “Did you miss me?”

  Kate laughed. “Silly Daddy. You were only gone one day.” Then she leaned forward and planted a wet kiss on his cheek. “I missed you every minute,” she whispered.

  “Me, too,” Benjamin said, and delivered an equally sloppy kiss on the other side of his father’s face. Then he craned his neck and peered over David’s shoulder. “Did you bring my truck, Daddy?”

  “Let’s see,” David said thoughtfully, as he set his children on the ground. “Did I bring Benjamin a truck? Well…I think maybe I did.” He pulled a gaily wrapped package from the Land Rover and handed it to his son, who promptly sat down in the snow and began ripping it open. “There might even be something in here for Kate…yup, by golly, there is.” Wide-eyed, his daughter accepted a box almost as big as she was. She plopped herself down beside her brother and set to work. “And there might even be one more thing in here someplace…”

  For the first time, David looked up at the porch where Joanna stood framed in the doorway. After nine years of marriage and two babies, she was more beautiful than ever and his heart did what it always did at the sight of her, rose straight up inside his chest until he felt as if he could float.

  “Hello, wife,” he said softly.

  Joanna smiled. “Hello, husband.”

  He mounted the steps slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, and when he reached the porch she went into his arms and kissed him.

  “A year,” she whispered, her lips warm against his cold cheek. “That’s how long it seems since you left yesterday morning. A year or maybe a month or—”

  David kissed her again. “I know. The next time I have to go into the city, you and the kids are coming with me.”

  “That sounds like a wonderful idea. How’s the apartment?”

  “Fine. Mrs. Timmons sends her best.” David drew back, then held out the package. “I brought you something.”

  Joanna looked at the box and smiled. “Do I get to guess what it is?”

  “Sure. Three guesses, then you pay a penalty.”

  She pursed her lips. The box was blue. It was small and square. It came from Tiffany’s…

  “A bread board?” she asked innocently.

  David’s lips twitched. “Try again.”

  “Um…a vacuum cleaner?”

  “Last shot, coming up.”

  “Let’s see…a new washing machine?”

  He sighed. “Not again.”

  “Well, that’s what happens when you have twins. The washing machine just works itself to death.”

  “Yeah.” He smiled. “And you’ve used up all three guesses, Mrs. Adams. So I guess you’ll just have to pay the penalty.”

  Joanna laughed softly. “Oh, my.”

  His grin turned wickedly sexy. “Oh, my, indeed.”

  “At least let me see what’s in that box…”

  “Uh-uh,” he said, taking it out of her reach. “Not until you pay up.”

  Joanna batted her snow-tipped lashes at him. “Why, Mr. Adams, sir, whatever do you have in mind?”

  David put his lips to his wife’s ear and whispered exactly what he had in mind. She turned pink, laughed softly, and buried her face in his neck.

  “That sounds wonderful. When?”

  “Tonight, right after the kids are in bed. I’ll build a fire, we’ll open some champagne…”

  Joanna’s smile faded. She leaned back in her husband’s arms and looked into his eyes. “I love you,” she said softly.

  David brushed his lips over hers. “My Gypsy,” he whispered.

  Then, together with their son and daughter, Joanna and David Adams went inside their home and closed the door.

  * * * * *

  Now, read on for a tantalizing excerpt of USA Today bestselling author Jennie Lucas’ next book,

  THE HEIR THE PRINCE SECURES

  An exquisite encounter with a Sicilian leaves Tess alone, penniless and pregnant. Until Stefano returns, discovers his unknown heir, and reveals he’s royalty! Now to protect his tiny daughter, he’ll make Tess his Cinderella bride!

  Turn the page to get a glimpse of

  THE HEIR THE PRINCE SECURES

  CHAPTER ONE

  LOVE MEANT EVERYTHING to Tess Foster.

  NOT JUST LOVE. Romance. Pink roses. Castles and hearts.

  As a lonely teenager living in the attic of her aunt and uncle’s Brooklyn bakery, Tess tried to keep her romantic dreams secret. In a modern world of easy hookups and one-night stands, it was embarrassing, even shameful, to be an idealistic virgin waiting for true love. As other girls giggled over their first fumbling sexual experiences in the back seats of cars, Tess kept quiet and hoped no one would notice that she spent her own Saturday nights with dusty books in the library, dreaming of handsome princes.

  She’d known, even then, that when she finally gave herself to a man, it would only be to someone she truly loved. She’d wear white on her wedding day and lose her virginity on their honeymoon. She’d settle for nothing less than the fairy tale.

  Then, at twenty-four, she met Stefano.

  One moment, she’d been working as a waitress at a glamorous cocktail party hosted by a Spanish media mogul. Carrying a silver tray of champagne flutes through a crowd of movie stars and tycoons, Tess had been lost in thought, worrying whether she’d be able to afford another semester of design school.

  Then a handsome stranger’s dark, smoldering gaze had pierced her heart, making her lose her breath.

  That had been it. That one look from him had almost brought her to her knees.

  Because no one had ever looked at her like that. It was as if Tess, the hopeless, invisible wallflower, had suddenly become the most desirable, fascinating woman in all the world.

  And the man who was looking at her…

  Dark and sexy, he’d stood arrogantly apart, his perfectly cut tuxedo a mere veneer of civilization over his powerful, muscular body. His dark eyes had burned through her as he came toward her, moving with an almost feline grace.

  “Buonasera,” he’d said huskily.

  Tess had turned the silver tray toward him so fast the flutes nearly knocked over. Her voice had squeaked. “Champagne?”

  “No.” With a sensual smile, he’d glanced at the martini already in his hand. “I don’t want champagne.”

  “Something else, then?”

  His voice was husky, with the barest trace of an accent. “I want your name.”

  And that had been the start of the most spectacular night of Tess’s life. When she’d finished her shift at the party, he’d whisked her off in his chauffeured town car to an elegant, romantic dinner at the most exclusive restaurant in New York. Afterward, he’d suggested they go dancing. When she’d said she didn’t have a dress, he’d stopped at a designer boutique and bought her one that sparkled and swayed against her skin.

  She’d tried to resist, but she couldn’t. Not when he’d looked at her like that.

  Tess had danced in his arms for hours before he’d kissed her, leaving her intoxicated, breathless. He’d invited her to his suite at the luxurious Leighton Hotel. Looking into his dark, hungry eyes, she’d known only one answer.

  “Yes,” she’d whispered.

  In just one night, he’d ruthlessly taken her virginity. And more than that: he’d dazzled her lonely, romantic heart into loving him.

  But the next morning, waking up alone in the cold, gray dawn, she realized that she’d never even learned his full name.

  A few weeks later, she’d found out she was pregnant. Her uncle had been furious, her aunt disappointed in her.

  For the last fourteen months, even as Tess’s two best friends, Hallie Hatfield and Lola Price, had rolled their eyes, she’d stubbornly insisted that Stefano would someday return to claim her and their baby. After all, even if she didn’t know his last name, he knew hers. Stefano could find her anytime he wanted.

  If he hadn’t
come yet, there had to be a good reason. Maybe he had amnesia, or his plane had crashed on a desert island. Those things happened, didn’t they? Tess imagined every reason she could think of, except for the obvious one. Her friends thought she was nuts.

  But Tess had to believe Stefano would return. Because, otherwise, she’d surrendered all her dreams for nothing. She’d given up her chance for a career, for marriage, for one love that would last her whole life—all for a one-night stand that had left her pregnant, abandoned and alone.

  If Stefano didn’t come back, it would mean the world was a cold and unforgiving place, and all the fairy tales her mother had read her as a child were wrong. Tess didn’t want to live in a world like that. So she’d done her best to believe.

  Suddenly, tonight, she couldn’t.

  Not for one more second.

  Tess’s shoulders drooped as she wearily pushed her five-month-old baby’s stroller out of the Campania Hotel New York. It was ten o’clock on a warm, humid night in early September, but the night was just getting started. The streets were crowded with people leaving restaurants and streaming out of Broadway theaters, their faces animated and bright as they passed beneath the sparkling lights of the hotel’s porte cochere.

  Tess felt empty and sad. She’d just watched her friend Hallie sing at her husband’s luxury hotel. After Hallie’s amazing performance, Cristiano had publicly declared his love for his wife.

  She was glad for Hallie, truly she was. Her friend deserved every happiness, especially after what she’d gone through. Normally, Tess would have told herself that seeing a couple so deeply in love proved that it might still happen for her, too.

  But not tonight.

  She’d been up since four that morning, working at her uncle’s bakery while also caring for her baby. She felt sweaty and exhausted. Tendrils of her long red hair were plastered to her neck. Even Tess’s jaunty handmade outfit, a vintage-style shirt and midi pencil skirt with mixing patterns, was wrinkled. She looked down at her adorable sleeping baby, her plump cheeks and dark hair, and a hard lump rose to her throat.

  For over a year, she’d ignored her uncle’s criticism, her aunt’s disappointed sighs and her friends’ teasing. She’d told herself Stefano would come back to her. But after seeing Hallie and Cristiano together, so happy together in their own little world, Tess had realized she was fooling herself.