Destiny's Hand. Lori Wilde

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Destiny's Hand - Lori Wilde Mills & Boon Blaze

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studied him intently, looking for some sign of arousal, of sexual interest, of basic male attraction. But Adam revealed neither delight nor approval. She could see nothing beyond his investment banker’s poker face. Nothing that said he saw her as a sexy, desirable woman.

      Come on, what did you expect? For him to throw you down on the table and have his way with you right here in the bar? You of all people should understand what kind of mental stress he’s under. You’ve been there. Cut him some slack.

      Yes, she knew what he was going through and that was precisely the reason she was here. To shake things up, to get him to see all the wonderful experiences he was missing out on by focusing so much of his time and energy on work to the exclusion of everything else.

      “Um…what are you doing here?” His brow bunched in a frown, and he rubbed the back of his neck with a palm in a gesture she recognized. He was trying to ease the knots of tension wadding up under his skin. “And what is that you’re wearing?”

      Adam’s jaw tightened, as if he wanted to say more but was gnawing on the words to keep them from tumbling out. His gaze skated over Morgan’s scandalous attire, but then he averted his eyes as if her being here made him uncomfortable.

      The clothes were too much. Over the top. She knew that now. Had known it from the beginning, actually, but she’d let herself be persuaded by Cass. Image mattered a lot to Adam, and she had just embarrassed him at a place where he was well known, where he conducted business.

      “I thought…I thought…”

      Every silly thought she’d had about surprising him, making him crazy with desire and having wild sex at the Grand Duchess flew right out of her head. Good God, what had she been thinking? Interrupting his work with her lame attempt at seduction? The whole thing seemed cheesy now, ridiculous. This was what happened when she listened to her sister.

      She’d been so stupid. This wasn’t the right way to get him to see her point of view.

      Ducking her head in shame, she let her hair fall across her face, hoping it would hide the concern in her eyes. She slapped both palms against the smooth, cool marble tabletop and levered her butt up off the padded leather seat.

      “I’m just going to go now. I’m sorry I interrupted you.”

      “Morgan.” Adam reached out to touch her. But just before his hand settled over hers, a bulky man with a pit-bull face sidled up to their table.

      “Is this a bad time, Shaw?”

      “Robert.” Adam got to his feet and shook his client’s hand. “You’re here.”

      “Eight o’clock right on the money, punctual as always. But you look as if you’ve been caught unaware.” Robert stared at Morgan with frank approval.

      Dammit. That’s the way she wanted her husband to look at her, not this overweight, middle-aged stranger.

      Adam cleared his throat, rubbed the flat of one hand against the back of his neck again. “Um, Robert, this is my wife, Morgan. Morgan, this is Robert Jacobbi of Jacobbi Enterprises.”

      Pasting a civilized smile on her lips, Morgan shook the man’s hand.

      “So this is your wife.” Jacobbi wriggled his eyebrows. They were so thick and bushy they looked like gray caterpillars dancing the conga. “Shaw, if you don’t mind my saying, you’re one lucky guy.”

      “If you could give us just a second, Robert, I’ll be right with you. Have a seat. Order a drink.”

      “You’re not joining us, Morgan?” Jacobbi’s eyes glistened as he settled himself into the seat she had just vacated.

      “I was on my way home.”

      “Well, it was my absolute pleasure to have met you, Mrs. Shaw,” he said.

      Adam took her hand and guided her out of Jacobbi’s earshot. His eyes held hers, his body stiffened, his whisper was rough. “What’s going on? Where did you get those clothes?”

      “Cass.”

      “Ah, so that explains it.”

      “This isn’t Cass’s fault,” she snapped. “I had a silly idea that it would be romantic to spend the night with you in the city, and my sister loaned me something sexy to wear.”

      His hand stole along her bare arm tenderly and his tone softened. “And you look exceptional, but you know how it is. You’ve been through this before. If I ace this deal with Jacobbi I’m a shoo-in for my promotion. But if I blow it, I’ll be passed over.”

      “I realize that. It’s just…” She stopped, at a loss as to how to tell him how much she missed him, how afraid she was that the magic had gone out of their marriage and how terrified she was that they were on the verge of losing each other.

      But this wasn’t the time or the place. She had embarrassed them both enough for one day.

      “Just what?” he asked, sounding impatient.

      “We’ll talk later. Go back to your client.” She waved a wrist, trying not to let him see her eyes, trying not to reveal her fragility.

      “Are you sure you’re all right?” There was real concern in his voice. “This is totally out of character for you.”

      I know! she wanted to scream.

      Didn’t he get it? That was the point. To step out of character. To be someone else, someone new, someone wild and adventuresome and sexy.

      Adam took off his suit jacket and held it out to her. “Here, you can’t go walking around the city at night alone dressed like that.”

      She slipped her arms through the jacket. He hadn’t criticized her, but the expression on his face seemed to say it all: I hope this behavior isn’t going to become a habit. I chose you as my wife because you’re calm and reliable and sensible. Don’t go pulling any purple rabbits out of a hat on me at this late date.

      “Jacobbi’s waiting,” she said, her chest squeezing sorrowfully.

      “You be careful going home.” He gave her a perfunctory kiss.

      The brushing of his lips against her skin felt so damned brotherly she could barely stand it. Quickly she turned away, glad that she wasn’t the kind of woman who cried at the drop of a hat.

      Her humiliation was quite complete enough without tears.

      WHAT THE HELL HAD THAT been about?

      Stunned by his restrained wife’s unexpected conduct, Adam slipped into the booth across from Robert Jacobbi. He was rattled, thrown off his game and fretful at the thought of Morgan taking the train home dressed in those high-heeled boots and skimpy clothes.

      At least she had on his coat. He used the rationalization to placate his concern, but his gut torqued.

      His gaze lingered on the exit where Morgan had just disappeared. He wished he’d handled things differently, wished he hadn’t been so worried that everyone in the bar was thinking that he had ordered himself up a high-class escort.

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