counting on it.”
“Why?” For the first time, the teasing glint disappeared from her eyes. She lifted her glass to her lips and appraised him solemnly over the rim.
“He and I need to talk, and he’s been dodging my calls.” Adam glanced back to the fountain-cum-podium where Victor was introducing Kent Simms and congratulating him on his promotion to executive vice president. Adam finished his drink in one gulp, as Simms accepted Victor’s hearty congratulations, shook hands with the mayor and rained a brilliant pretty-boy smile on the crowd.
“You’ve called Dad?” Marnie asked, apparently stunned.
Adam swung his gaze back to her. “Several times. Never got past Kate. Victor didn’t bother to call me back.”
“But—”
“I even stopped in at the offices. Kate ran interference. Wouldn’t let me in to see him.”
Marnie couldn’t believe it. Her father hadn’t said a word about Adam trying to contact him, and she would have thought, given Victor’s feelings about Adam Drake, he would have ranted and raved for days at the younger man’s impertinence. “What did you want to talk to him about?”
“Believe me, I have a lot to discuss with your father—or if I can’t talk to him, Simms’ll do.” He cocked his head toward the fountain. “By the way, your fiancé seems to be enjoying himself. Shouldn’t you be up there, basking in some of the glory?”
“It got a little crowded,” she said, her lips tightening.
“I noticed.”
“Adam Drake?” Kate’s voice was low and cold. When he turned, her large eyes were suspicious, the color in her cheeks high. “What do you think you’re doing here?” she whispered, then before he could answer, asked, “How did you get past security?”
“I helped design this building, remember—including the security system.”
“You bastard,” she shot back, ignoring Marnie. “You want to ruin it for him, don’t you? This is Victor’s night, and you’re going to make sure that it blows up in his face!”
“I just want to talk to him.”
“Well, you can’t. Not tonight,” she said, her features hardening. “If the press gets wind that you’re here, it’ll ruin everything! You’ve got to leave! Now!” Her voice had taken on a frantic tone that seemed to surprise Marnie as she watched the exchange in stunned silence.
“I’m not taking off just yet.”
“But why would you want to stay? It’ll just cause problems.” Kate glanced nervously toward Victor.
Marnie laid a hand on her arm. “Relax, Kate,” Marnie said, as if she, too, were trying to avoid a scene, but Kate raged on.
“Please, Adam, just go quietly, before you do something that can’t be undone and everything’s dredged up again. This is Victor’s night. Please don’t spoil it!”
“I need to talk to him.”
“But not here—”
“I tried the office,” he replied, fighting to control his anger. “You wouldn’t let me see him.”
“My mistake. Come back next week, I’ll get you an appointment,” she promised, pinning a winning smile on her face and slipping her arm through his, obviously intending to escort him to the door.
“I’ll wait, just the same.”
Frustrated, Kate stormed away in a cloud of exasperation.
“I don’t think that’s the way to win friends and influence people,” Marnie said dryly.
“I’m not very popular around here, am I?”
She grinned. “I’m afraid you’re persona non grata at Montgomery Inns. But my father still keeps your picture in his office—taped over his dart board.”
He laughed, surprised that she would joke with him. The pianist began playing again, filling the lobby with a vaguely familiar big-band hit of the forties.
“Do you want me to tell my father you’re here?” she asked, and he shook his head.
“I think it would be better if you stay out of it.”
“Why?”
“It could get bloody.”
“Then I’d better be there,” she decided. “Someone—maybe you—might need a bandage.”
“And soon,” he said, spying Kent Simms, face flushed, plunging through the crowd and heading straight for Marnie. The glare in Kent’s eyes was unmistakable—the territorial pride of the spurned male.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Kent demanded in a voice so low it was hard to hear over the crowd.
Adam finished his drink. “I was hoping to talk to Victor, but I guess you’ll have to do.”
“Forget it. Come on, Marnie, let’s go,” Kent ordered, grabbing her arm and propelling her toward a banquet room near the back of the lobby.
“Let go of me,” she whispered furiously, half running to keep up with his longer strides. She considered making a scene, but thought better of it. No reason to call undue attention to Adam—he’d do enough of that for himself.
In the banquet room, she whirled around and yanked her arm free of Kent’s possessive grasp. “What is it you want?”
His expression changed from anger to sadness. “You already know what I want,” he said quietly. “I just want you, Marnie.”
She couldn’t believe her ears. What did it take to make the man understand? “I already told you it’s over! I don’t need to be manhandled or made a spectacle of! Where do you get off, hauling me in here like some caveman claiming his woman?”
“Caveman?” he repeated. “Weren’t you just talking to Drake? Now there’s someone who’s primitive.” He shook his head, as if sorry that she was so dense. “You know, Marnie, sometimes you can be impossible.”
“Good!”
“You enjoy being perverse?”
“I just want you to leave me alone. I thought you understood that. If you don’t, let me make myself clear,” she said, drawing up to her full height and sending him an icy glare. “I’m sorry I ever got involved with you and I never want to see you again.”
He glanced to one of the chandeliers high overhead. “I made a mistake with Dolores.”
She didn’t respond. She’d learned that his affair with Dolores had been going on for over six months. All the time that she and Kent had been picking out china, planning a wedding, looking for a house, sailing in the boat Victor had bought them as an engagement present, Kent had been sleeping with his secretary.
