was a ticking time bomb in Lauryn’s genes she would like to know.
“My father used to be stationed at Tyndall Air Force Base. I grew up hearing stories about Florida, the Everglades and the beaches. After he died I decided to check them out for myself.”
“And yet you settled on the east coast rather than panhandle.”
“Better job opportunities,” she replied and hoped he’d drop the subject. He’d been the only job opportunity she’d pursued, and she considered it an amazing stroke of luck that his previous accountant had quit to stay at home with her new baby around the same time Lauryn had needed her job.
“California’s loss is my gain.” He accompanied the words with a smile she’d only seen in the South Florida Album section of the newspaper, but those grainy pictures in no way had the same lung-emptying impact as the real deal. No wonder flocks of women fell at his feet. She felt almost dizzy.
She transferred her gaze to the islands across the bay. The Sunset Islands were a tiny cluster of outrageously priced real estate. Could you see Adam’s other home—her birthmother’s family estate—from here? She counted until she found the correct channel to mark the way to the waterfront property. Lauryn had considered renting a boat and trying to get a better view of the house from the bay side, but the only thing she knew about boats was that they made her seasick.
The man in front of her held the answers. “Didn’t I hear someone say you own a house on one of those islands?”
Adam nodded. “Ricco?”
What did the club’s booking agent have to do with the estate? But he wasn’t her source. She’d discovered that tidbit during a search of the county records, but if she told Adam that she’d come across as a stalker. Which she was…sort of. And she didn’t want to get Ricco in trouble. “I don’t remember.”
“I bought the house at auction the same way I bought the building now housing Estate and a few other properties. Bargain prices. Good investments.”
“And yet you don’t live on the island.”
“I use the Sunset estate to house certain VIPs who are performing at the club. The ones who prefer privacy to hotels.”
That explained the maintenance crews. “I didn’t know that.”
He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. A zing shot up her arm—the same kind of tempting tingle she’d experienced yesterday when he’d held her hand. Lauryn was no stranger to sexual attraction, but she’d learned the hard way to ignore it because sex inevitably led to complications. Complications she didn’t need.
She tried to pull away, but Adam’s grip tightened around her wrist. He turned her hand over, used his other hand to pry open her clenched fist and then drew on her palm with his fingertip. The impact hit her libido like a car bomb. Shock-waves plowed through her and shattered defenses she’d thought unbreachable. She gulped and squeezed her knees against the warmth gathering between her thighs.
“I apologize for springing my proposal on you so abruptly yesterday. I realize it’s a pretty radical idea.”
“No kidding,” she croaked and tugged her hand to no avail.
“You don’t know me well enough to know I always give one hundred ten percent to any endeavor. I can and will be a great husband.” He stroked up and down between each of her fingers. Her pulse bounded like popcorn in a popper. No doubt he felt it beneath the thumb he feathered over the inside of her wrist. “We’ll get to know each other better. Date a few times.”
“I—I don’t think that’s a good idea. And it won’t change my answer.”
“You can’t deny there’s chemistry between us.”
His deep, velvety tone immediately made her think of dark nights, tangled sheets, a lack of clothing and his hands on her skin.
Heat flushed her from the inside out. How long had it been since she’d had really good sex? Or sex, period, for that matter.
Did he really feel the attraction, too, or was he just saying what he needed to say to close this deal? God knows she’d fallen victim to plenty of smooth-talking guys who’d made her feel like the most important person on the planet until they had what they wanted. But then she’d been known to use guys, too, to get a rise out of her father.
She scanned Adam’s face, noting the dusky color on his cheekbones and the way he breathed through slightly parted lips.
Adam Garrison attracted to her? Impossible. She’d seen his usual bimbos and she didn’t even come close to the models and starlets he dated, especially the way she dressed these days.
“You’re my boss. Office relationships always turn out badly—usually for the employee.”
“They don’t have to. Besides, you won’t be working for me after the wedding,” he enunciated very clearly and a tad too loud. Before she could figure out why he’d spoken that way a woman jerked to a halt behind him.
“Adam?” The lady could have been anywhere from fifty to a well-preserved seventy, but it was impossible to gauge by her tightly stretched skin.
Adam looked up and hesitated just the right amount of time before releasing Lauryn’s hand and standing. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Ainsley. This is Lauryn Lowes. Lauryn, Helene Ainsley. She’s on the board of practically every charitable foundation in Miami.”
Helene Ainsley. The same woman who’d refused to come to the door when Lauryn had knocked and asked the maid who answered for a moment of her mistress’s time. The Ainsley estate was four doors down from the Laurence property, and even though Mrs. Ainsley was older, she or her children had probably known Adrianna Laurence.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Ainsley.” It would have been nicer ten months ago.
The woman looked from Adam to Lauryn through her nipped and tucked eyes. “Do we have news?”
Lauryn tensed and held her breath.
Adam sent a lingering look her way and then smiled tenderly before replying without breaking eye contact, “No news.”
Good grief, the man should be an actor. His tone, expression and body language spoke the opposite more eloquently than words.
“I could have sworn I heard you say ‘wedding.’”
Adam returned his attention to Mrs. Ainsley. “You could have. There have been a few weddings in the Garrison family lately. And of course, my sister Brittany is engaged.”
But Mrs. Ainsley didn’t believe him. Lauryn could see the curiosity in the woman’s overstretched face. How smart of Adam to plant the seed—just in case he convinced Lauryn to say yes. Not that he would.
The woman’s searching gaze focused on Lauryn. “Have we met, dear? You look familiar.”
Lauryn’s heart skipped a beat. Did she take after her mother? The only photos she’d found of Adrianna had been blurry black-and-white newspaper shots that made identifying specific features difficult, but Lauryn had inherited her father’s coloring. Her mother had been a brunette. “No, ma’am.”
“Are
