were the holiday season instead of the end of May, winked in the shrubbery.
His jaw tightened, and a cruel smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he considered his reasons for showing up uninvited. Adrenaline surged through his veins. What was the phrase—revenge was always best when it was served up cold?
He’d soon find out.
Nearly a year had passed since he’d been hung by his heels in public, humiliated and stripped bare, and tonight he’d seek his own form of justice.
Thunder cracked over the angry waters, and Adam cast one final look at the inky sound. He found poetic justice in the fact that a spring storm was brewing on the night Victor Montgomery was opening his latest resort.
He didn’t waste any time. The pant legs of his tuxedo brushed against the wet leaves of blossoming rhododendrons and azaleas as he walked briskly, moving instinctively toward the side entrance and the French doors he knew would be unlocked and, with any luck, unguarded.
Music and laughter floated through the night as he stepped onto the terrace. Through the open doors, he saw that the party was in full swing, bejeweled guests talking, dancing, laughing and drinking from monogrammed fluted glasses.
Adam tugged on his tight black tie, plowed his fingers through his wind-tossed hair, then slipped into the opulent foyer. No one seemed to notice. As a liveried waiter passed, Adam snagged a glass of champagne from a silver tray and scoped out the milling guests.
A piano player sat at a shiny baby grand, and the nostalgic notes of “As Time Goes By” drifted through the crowd. Silver and red balloons, tied together with long white ribbons, floated dreamily to the windowed ceiling four stories above the foyer. Near the back wall a glass elevator carried guests to the balconies surrounding the lobby, and on the opposite wall an elegant staircase curved upward to the second story. In the center of the room, the trademark Montgomery fountain, complete with marble base, spouted water eight feet high.
Oh, yes, this hotel was just as grand as Victor Montgomery had envisioned it, the opening party already a success. Adam tamped down any trace of bitterness as he wandered through the crowd. It took a cool mind to get even.
In one corner of the lobby near a restaurant, a ten-foot ice sculpture of King Neptune, trident aloft, sea monsters curling in the waves near his feet, stood guard.
Just like good old Victor, Adam thought to himself as he spied Kate Delany, Victor’s administrative assistant and, as rumor had it, lover. Dressed in shimmering white, her dark hair piled high on her head, Kate acted as hostess. Her smile was practiced but friendly, and her eyes sparkled enough to invite conversation as she drifted from one knot of guests to the next.
Scanning the crowd, Adam decided Victor hadn’t made his grand entrance yet. Nor had his daughter. He looked again, hoping for a glimpse of Marnie. Spoiled, rich, beautiful Marnie Montgomery was the one possession Victor valued more than his damned hotels. An only child, she’d been pampered, sent to the best schools and given the post of “public-relations administrator” upon graduation from some Ivy League school back east.
Despite his bitterness toward anything loosely associated with Montgomery Inns, Adam had found Marnie appealing. Regardless of her lap-of-leisure upbringing, there had been something—a spark of laughter in her eyes, a trace of wistfulness in her smile, an intelligence in her wit and a mystique to her silences—which had half convinced him that she was more than just another rich brat coddled by an overindulgent father and raised by nannies. Tall and slender, with pale blond hair and eyes a clear crystal blue, Marnie was as hauntingly beautiful as she was wealthy. And as he understood it, she’d become engaged to Kent Simms, one of Victor’s “yes” men.
Bad choice, Marnie, Adam thought as he took a long swallow of champagne. Maybe he’d been kidding himself all along. Marnie Montgomery was probably cut from the same expensive weave of cloth as was her father.
Kent Simms fit into the picture neatly. Too ambitious for his own good, Kent was more interested in the fast lane and big bucks than in loving a wife. Even if she happened to be the boss’s daughter. The marriage wouldn’t last.
But Kent Simms was Marnie’s problem. Adam had his own.
He heard a gasp behind him. From the corner of his eye he caught the quickly averted look of a wasp-thin woman with dark eyes and a black velvet dress.
So she recognizes me, he thought in satisfaction, and lifted his champagne glass in silent salute to her. Her name was Rose Trullinger, and she was an interior decorator for the corporation.
Rose’s cheeks flooded with color, and she turned quickly away before casting a sharp glance over her shoulder and heading toward a group of eight or nine people lingering around the bar.
Adam watched as she whispered something to a woman draped in blue silk and dripping with diamonds. The woman in blue turned, lifted a finely arched brow and sent Adam a curious look. There was more than mild amusement in her eyes. Adam noticed an invitation. Some women were attracted to men who were considered forbidden or dangerous. The woman in blue was obviously one of those.
She whispered something to Rose.
Perfect, Adam thought with a grim twist of his lips. It wouldn’t be long before Victor knew he was here.
Chapter Two
Marnie jabbed a glittery comb into her hair, then glowered at her reflection as the comb slid slowly down. Shaking her head, she yanked out the comb and tossed it onto the vanity. So much for glamour. She brushed her shoulder-length curls with a vengeance and eyed the string of diamonds and sapphires surrounding her throat. The necklace and matching earrings had been her mother’s; Victor had pleaded with her to wear them and she had, on this, the last night of her employment at Montgomery Inns. Just being in the new hotel made her feel like a hypocrite, but she only had a few more hours and, then, freedom!
“Marnie?” Her father tapped softly on the door connecting her smaller bedroom to the rest of his suite. “It’s about time.”
“I’ll be right out,” she replied, dreading the party. On the bed, a single suitcase lay open. She tossed her comb, brush and makeup bag into the soft-sided case and snapped it shut.
Sliding into a pair of silver heels, she opened the door to find her father, a drink in one hand, pacing near the door. He glanced up as she entered the room, and the smile that creased his face was filled with genuine admiration. He swallowed and blinked. “I really hadn’t realized how much you look like Vanessa,” he said quietly.
Marnie felt an inner glow. He was complimenting her. Her father had never gotten over his wife and he’d vowed on her grave that he’d never remarry. And he hadn’t. Even though Kate Delany had been in love with him for years, he wouldn’t marry her. Marnie knew it as well as she knew she herself would never marry Kent Simms.
He reached for the door but paused. “Kent’s already here.”
“I know.”
“He’s been asking to see you.”
She knew that, too. But she was through talking to Kent about anything other than business. “I don’t have anything to say to him.”
Victor tugged on his lower lip as if weighing his next words. Marnie braced herself. She knew what was coming. “Kent loves you, and he’s been with the company for ten years. That man is loyal.”
