Читать книгу Secrets of the Tycoon's Bride / The Executive's Surprise Baby - Catherine Mann - Страница 12

Four

“Ready to roll?”

Lauryn nearly jumped out of her chair at the sound of Adam’s voice behind her late Tuesday afternoon. She swiveled around and found him standing just inside her office.

Black suit, white shirt, conservative black-and-silver-patterned tie. Manly. Magnificent. He’d always been a sharp dresser, but she rarely saw him so formally attired.

“Almost. You’re early. Let me print this last page.” She caught the sheet before it could hit the tray. “I typed up an addendum.”

“Addendum to what?” He crossed to her desk and took the papers she offered.

“Our agreement. These are the items we covered last night.”

His gaze ricocheted from the pages to her face. He backtracked and closed her office door. “Our sex life is not going into a legal document.”

“I want the terms spelled out.”

“I won’t have anything in writing that the press can use to discredit me. The prenup and marriage contract are risky enough. Delete that file,” he ordered in an authoritative voice.

Her hackles rose in a conditioned response. Like a Pavlovian pooch. She’d never taken orders well. Her father had barked them as if she’d been a new recruit, and she…well, she’d rebelled. More often than not her response had landed her in hot water.

But that was then.

“Adam—”

“Do it now, Lauryn.”

Grasping the arms of her chair, she sat back and counted to ten. “You’re protecting your interests. Why shouldn’t I protect mine?”

“I give you my word I will abide by your requests.” He fed the pages into the shredder and then planted his palms on her desk and slowly leaned forward until he towered over her. He held her gaze without blinking. “Until you tell me otherwise.”

The last phrase, delivered with a cocky half smile, oozed confidence and charisma. He thought she’d change her mind about the sex ban. He had no clue what kind of lockdown she’d put on her hormones since dissolving her hasty marriage or how good she’d become at ignoring the opposite sex. But he’d learn.

She deleted the file and even emptied her computer’s recycle bin. “Done.”

“Let’s go.”

“Wait. You need to approve the advertisement for my assistant.” “No need to advertise. Your predecessor is eager to come back to work. She’s discovered she needs a break from full-time diaper duty.”

Tension squeezed Lauryn’s throat like an invisible strangler’s hand. Silently, she collected her purse and the marriage agreement and followed Adam out of the building.

“Did your attorney look at the contract?” he asked.

“I don’t have an attorney here and there wasn’t time to find one.”

Adam grasped her elbow and stopped her on the sidewalk. He met her gaze head-on. “I won’t cheat you. The settlement is fair.”

“I know. I read it.” Five times. Pages of emotionless words promising twenty-four months of her life to a virtual stranger. A year to get Adam elected and then a year to keep him in office until he’d proven he could do the job.

Would she be able to remain as detached when she shared a home and a life with this man? Would she be able to walk away as if the marriage had never happened? Her reaction to Adam’s stimulating touch said the time wouldn’t pass without leaving its mark.

But she could control her body. Couldn’t she?

She had to.

She turned, pulling free of his hand, and looked past him, but she didn’t see his BMW by the curb. A dark blue Lexus sat in Adam’s usual spot. It wasn’t the first time someone had ignored the sign marking his reserved parking place. She scanned the street, but didn’t see Adam’s convertible in any of the other spaces, and the valet wouldn’t arrive until later this evening. That meant a hike to the parking deck, which was one of the reasons—besides the prohibitive cost of parking—Lauryn always rode the bus. Thank goodness for her preference for flat-heeled shoes.

Adam reached into his pocket, withdrew a key ring and hit a button. The Lexus’s lights flashed. He dangled the keys in front of her. “You wear a lot of blue. I hope that means you like it.”

“What?” She gaped at the small SUV and then at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No. You’re driving.” When she didn’t reach for the keys he caught her hand, pressed them into her palm and closed her fingers around them.

She didn’t know which startled her more. The pricey car or the contact with Adam. She’d have to work harder at reining in this taboo attraction. “I have a decent car.”

“Now you have a better one. Keep the old one or sell it. I don’t care.”

“But…”

“Appearances, Lauryn. It’s all about appearances.” He checked traffic and then opened the driver’s door for her. “Let’s go. Brandon’s staying after hours for us.”

She slid into the buttery soft leather seat, filled her lungs with that new-car smell and checked out the tinted sunroof. Compared to her four-year-old economy sedan, this car’s dashboard looked like something NASA built. GPS and satellite radio. Who knew what the other gizmos were? Her hand trembled as she slipped the key into the ignition and started the engine.

Adam climbed into the passenger seat. “You’ve delivered documents to Brandon for me before. Remember where his office is?”

“Yes.” She wasn’t looking forward to maneuvering a brand-new luxury vehicle through rush-hour traffic.

Adam gave her perhaps five minutes to get accustomed to the way the car handled before speaking again. “Bahamas law requires us to be in the country twenty-four hours before we can apply for a marriage license. We’ll leave tomorrow morning, get married Thursday evening and then come home Monday morning and move our stuff into the house.”

Thursday? She gulped. “So soon?”

“Waiting wastes time.”

“You’re willing to leave Estate that long?”

“The staff will survive without me, and Sandy will fill in for you.”

He had it all figured out. “Sandy’s my predecessor?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t have time for the makeover you requested by tomorrow.”

She kept her eyes on traffic but caught his shrug out of the corner of her eye. “Do it on the island. Cassie’s well put-together. She can tell you where to go.”

All too soon they reached the high-rise housing Washington & Associates. Because so many of the building’s workers were making the evening exodus, Lauryn easily found a spot near the entrance. She parked and climbed from the car. The knot between her shoulders from driving the unfamiliar vehicle sank to her stomach and expanded with each step she took beside Adam toward their destination.

He ushered her into the elevator and up to the law offices of Washington & Associates. A woman Lauryn guessed to be in her sixties waited for them by the reception desk with a big smile lined on her face. On past visits Lauryn had always left packages with the receptionist, who wasn’t behind her desk.

“What is this I hear about an engagement? Both of your brothers, then Brandon and now you. Have the men in Miami suddenly become smarter?”

“Hello Rachel.” Adam pulled the diminutive woman into a hug and then released her and extended his hand toward Lauryn. “This is Lauryn Lowes, my fiancée. Lauryn, this is Rachel Suarez.”

Lauryn reluctantly put her left hand in Adam’s and let him tug her forward. The shocking heat of his touch seeped up her arm and then oozed down deep inside her, but the woman thankfully broke the spell by enfolding Lauryn’s right hand in both of hers.

“He’ll be a good husband as long as you keep him on a short leash,” she whispered.

Wide-eyed, Lauryn darted a quick glance at Adam to see if he’d heard, but his face remained impassive.

“Thanks for that tip,” she replied and received a wink in return.

Movement down the hall drew Lauryn’s attention. Brandon Washington strolled toward them. He was Adam’s height, attractive and African-American. Lauryn had spoken with him on numerous occasions when he stopped by Estate.

The men shook hands and clapped shoulders before Brandon greeted her with a nod. Lauryn nodded back and tried to smile.

Adam indicated Mrs. Suarez. “Is she still running this place?”

“She likes to think so,” Brandon replied. The warmth in his eyes belied his firm voice. “Let’s step into my office.” Brandon turned to Mrs. Suarez. “Give us five minutes and then join us, please.”

Lauryn’s mouth dried. The deal was all but done. Her feet felt weighted as she followed the men across the carpet. The point of no return lay directly ahead.

But if she walked away what would she have learned about her mother? Not enough. Not nearly enough. And she’d probably lose her job, too, for leading Adam on and then reneging.

The door closed behind them, sealing them into Brandon’s office. He faced them across his desk and waited until they were seated before asking Adam, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I’m sure.”

Dark brown eyes lasered in on Lauryn’s. “Are you?”

“I—” She covered her flash of panic by clearing her throat and handing over the folder. “I am.”

Brandon accepted it and withdrew the prenuptial agreement and marriage contract. “Did you have any questions, Lauryn? Is there anything that requires clarification?”

Is there another way? “No.”

“She didn’t have a lawyer read the agreements,” Adam said.

Brandon stilled. “Would you like me to have one of my associates come in and go over the documents? I can assure you he’d be unbiased.”

“No. I’m comfortable with the contracts.”

Brandon nodded. “Once you get to the Bahamas you’ll have to provide proof of arrival time in the country. The airport should be able to give you that. Then you’ll swear before the U.S. Consul at the American Embassy that you’re single American citizens who wish to get married. The next day you’ll visit the Registrar General’s office to get your license. No blood tests are required, but Adam says you’re both going to be tested tomorrow morning anyway. Good decision.”

That was news. Lauryn looked at Adam. He stared back. He must really believe he’d be able to charm her into bed.

Not going to happen, she told him silently with her eyes.

One corner of his mouth lifted, and she could practically hear his thoughts. Wanna bet?

“Lauryn, are you divorced or widowed?” Brandon asked as he laid the documents on the desk in front of them.

“Um…no.” She’d been told annulments didn’t count. Legally it was as if her marriage had never happened, which was only fitting since she couldn’t remember the ceremony. Her skin burned with shame over that low point in her life. She’d just as soon nobody ever knew how stupid she’d been.

“Then that’s all the paperwork you’ll need. Cassie has arranged the rental of a cottage for you on a private beach. She’s also hired the minister, photographer and caterers. The ceremony will take place Thursday evening on the beach at sunset. Cassie and I will be your witnesses. I’ll issue a press release afterward. Any questions?”

Cold permeated Lauryn’s hands and feet. She shook her head because she couldn’t have spoken even if she’d tried.

A tap sounded on the door. It opened and Mrs. Suarez poked her salt-and-pepper head through the gap. “Ready for me?”

“Perfect timing as always,” Brandon answered.

The petite woman bustled in carrying her notary stamp.

Brandon offered Lauryn a pen. “Lauryn, you sign first.”

It took a second to find her nerve. She accepted the pen with an almost steady hand and scratched her name and the date where he indicated, first on the marriage contract and then on the prenuptial agreement. Adam did the same. And then Mrs. Suarez affixed her notary stamp, date and signature to each.

Done.

Heavy doubts rumbled through Lauryn like a California mud slide followed by a weird kind of numbness as Brandon matter-of-factly collected the documents and returned them to the file folder.

“I’ll make sure you each have copies and I’ll see you Thursday.” Brandon stood and then extended his hand.

Thursday.

In forty-eight hours she’d be a married woman. Again.

And this time she couldn’t call daddy to fix her mistake.

* * *

“Will you marry me, Lauryn?”

Stunned, Lauryn stared at Adam. The buzz in her ears drowned out the conversations around them in the elegant, exclusive restaurant. Or maybe a hush had fallen over the eavesdropping patrons awaiting her response.

She didn’t know much about diamonds, but she’d bet the one pinched between Adam’s finger and thumb cost a mint. The marquis stone had to be at least two carats. She forced her gaze from the mesmerizing sparkler to his eyes. Serious. Compelling. Intensely blue.

“I—I—”

Even though they hadn’t rehearsed this, even though he’d surprised her with this very public proposal, she knew what she was supposed to say. She just couldn’t get her mouth to work.

Flowers. Crystal. Candlelight. A strolling violinist. A prime table overlooking the bay. Adam had planned the perfect setting for a proposal.

And it was all fake. As fake as their marriage would be.

“Lauryn, baby, don’t leave me hanging. You know we belong together.”

She heard the warning in his deep voice and pressed a hand over her frantically beating heart. This wasn’t right. And yet what choice did she have if she wanted to learn the truth?

Answer the man.

“Y-yes,” she heard herself say. “Yes, Adam, I’ll marry you.”

A spattering of applause startled and embarrassed her. These days she hated being a spectacle as much as she’d once thrived on such attention. She briefly squeezed her eyes shut and then met Adam’s gaze. He wore a wide smile—one that didn’t reach his eyes—as he slipped the ring on her finger. And then he stood and pulled her into his arms.

His mouth covered hers so quickly she froze in shock. She hadn’t expected such a public first kiss, nor had she expected his mouth to be soft. Or gentle. Or warm. Or persuasive. Or delicious. He sipped from her lips the way he had from his wineglass earlier.

Not that she’d been watching his mouth. Much.

He lifted his head a fraction of an inch, leaning his forehead against hers. “Put your arms around my neck.”

His lips brushed hers with each whispered word and the eroticism nearly melted her. She lifted her arms as directed and his hands tightened on her waist, pulling her closer. The embrace mashed her breasts against the hard, hot wall of his chest and fused her hips to his. Desire swept through her like a California canyon fire, searing her deep inside. She planted her hands against his lapels, broke the kiss and looked away—right into the eyes of Helene Ainsley two tables away.

It’s all about appearances, Adam had said.

And Lauryn had better not forget it. That’s all this was. A charade. A setup. A chance for him to paint a convincing picture for the business council nominating committee. The heat in Lauryn’s veins turned to ice.

Adam reclaimed her hand and carried it to his lips. He kissed her knuckle below the ring and reseated her. Leaning over her, he caressed her shoulders and then pressed another scorching kiss to the tender skin beneath her ear. Goose bumps rose on her skin.

Not good. She really, really didn’t want to want him.

“Very convincing. Good job,” he murmured low enough that only she could hear.

The waiter arrived immediately with a bottle of champagne and presented the label for inspection.

Oh yes, Adam had definitely planned this—right down to preordering his favorite vintage of the Salon Blanc champagne. Lauryn knew his preferences because the club kept the brand in stock. Rumor had it that when he requested a bottle he’d chosen his bedmate for the night.

Lauryn didn’t want to be just another woman to share his sheets and his champagne. She’d better not forget the Adam Garrisons of this world bought what they wanted.

He might have bought her participation, but he couldn’t buy her self-respect. And that meant she had to stay out of his bed no matter how easily he’d awoken the passionate hedonist she thought she’d buried years ago. Because when the hedonist came out to play, her common sense went away.

And she refused to be another man’s puppet.

Lauryn stopped dead on the asphalt. “What is that?”

“A Columbia 400, turbo,” Adam said with enough pride in his voice to clamp an iron band around Lauryn’s chest. “My plane. Your ride,” he added, confirming her worst fears.

He covered the last ten yards in quick, long strides and set their luggage down beside a tiny white airplane with a shiny propeller on its nose. His hand dipped into his pocket, reappearing with a set of keys.

She closed her eyes and gulped. This is so not good.

She should have known he wasn’t just taking a different route to Miami International when he headed west of town.

Lauryn’s shaking legs carried her forward at a much slower pace. “Why can’t we fly commercial? You know, big jets with trained pilots, copilots and air hostesses who bring drinks?”

“Too slow.” He shoved his aviator sunglasses into his hair and looked directly into her eyes as if he believed his calm assuredness would be contagious. “I am a trained pilot. I’ve had a license since I turned sixteen. You’ll be safe with me.”

Someone called out to him. Adam turned and walked to meet a guy in a khaki flight suit coming out of one of the hangars.

“I do not have a death wish,” she muttered.

“Neither do I,” he called over his shoulder.

She waited until he finished his conversation and returned. “I’ve never flown in a private plane.”

“Good. I’ll be your first, and I’ll make it good for you.” The gleam in his eyes as he opened a door on the side of the aircraft was purely sexual. Her body responded accordingly, warming, moistening. She shook off the unwanted response.

“My father died in a plane crash.”

Compassion softened Adam’s features. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I take good care of my plane and I’ll take care of you.”

She wavered.

“Statistically, you’re less likely to be in an accident in a plane than in a car. Climb in. Sit in the right front seat.”

Her feet stayed planted. “Adam, I get seasick.”

“Seasick and airsick are not the same. Trust me, Lauryn.”

He grabbed her cold hands and carried them to the warmth of his cheeks, sandwiching her icy fingers between his smooth-shaven jaw and his warm palms. And then he leaned in and kissed her. One gentle, coaxing caress of his lips against hers followed another and another until the beginnings of arousal edged the fear from her stiff limbs. She was on the verge of responding, of threading her fingers through his hair and pulling him closer, when he lifted his head.

“Trust me,” he repeated.

She was stuck. He was going to force her to ride in that dinky tin can. Grimacing, she pulled her hands free. “On three conditions. A, if I absolutely hate it you let me fly home on a regular plane. B, no fancy acrobatics. And C, I don’t want to hear anything about the mile-high club. Not one word.”

He grinned. “Deal. Now climb in.”

He handed her into a compartment barely four feet high and wide. There were two leather bucket seats in the cabin and two more up front. She squeezed between the front seats and groaned as she sank into the one on the right. She was surrounded by glass, and she’d be able to see exactly how high they were off the ground. She buckled her seat belt. Tight.

She couldn’t believe her father had flown for a living. Flying hadn’t just been his job, it had been his passion.

Ten minutes later Adam eased his long frame in beside her. She gripped the armrests and watched him prepare for flight. Headset. Buttons. Dozens of them. And the she noticed the twin screens on the dash. One was GPS. She couldn’t identify the other one. The propeller started, vibrating the plane.

He leaned over and pushed a headset over her hair. “Can you hear me now?”

He winked. Her stomach knotted. She closed her eyes.

Minutes passed while Adam communicated with the tower in the take-charge voice he used at work. She occupied herself with mental math. How much interest would a million dollars paid in twenty-four installments net over five years, ten, by retirement age?

The plane moved forward, bouncing gently down the runway before gathering speed and lifting off. She knew the exact second they left the ground. Squeezing her eyes closed, she tightened her grip on the armrests.

Moments later Adam’s hand covered hers. “You can look now.”

She eased open one eye and saw blue sky. She opened the other and risked looking down. Her stomach contents didn’t rush to her throat. If anything, she wanted to see more and leaned closer to the window to do so. She could even identify some of the landmarks.

“The water’s so green.”

“Beautiful, isn’t it? Same color as your eyes.”

She snapped her head toward him and met his gaze. Forget it. He’s a natural-born charmer. Compliments come as easily to him as breathing. But knowing the truth didn’t lessen the impact of his words. “Thank you.”

“Want to fly over the club and the estate before we head east?”

She considered it, realized she didn’t feel the least bit sick and nodded. “Yes. I’d like that.”

He didn’t have to be nice. He had her where he wanted her, had her contracted to do exactly as he wished.

But it touched her that he made an effort.

Like a deer trapped in the headlights, Adam couldn’t turn away from the view outside the window.

Mouthwatering curves. Amazing legs.

Cassie said something to Lauryn as the women walked toward the trunk of Cassie’s car and Lauryn looked up at the cottage. Her gaze collided with his and the air dammed in his lungs.

She’s beautiful. How had he missed that?

The raw material had to have been there because there was no way Lauryn could have worked major miracles in the five hours since Cassie had met their plane at the Nassau airport and whisked Lauryn away for an afternoon of shopping and…whatever. Adam had been more than happy to dodge that bullet by picking up the car Garrison, Inc. kept on the island and driving it and their luggage to the house.

Cassie hauled a number of shopping bags from the trunk and passed them to Lauryn. Adam snapped out of his trance and headed for the door. His legs felt rubbery as he jogged down the stairs. He blamed it on the blood drawn at his doctor’s this morning and knew he lied.

He stopped beside the women. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins making him hyperaware of his bride-to-be. Sunlight gleamed off the hair streaming over Lauryn’s shoulders. He’d never seen her hair down, and the urge to test the texture of the champagne-gold strands nearly overwhelmed him.

Thick lashes surrounded her sea-green eyes and a shell-pink gloss coated her lips. The breeze carried her incredible scent.

“Hello again, Adam.”

He heard the smile in Cassie’s voice and forced his stunned gaze from Lauryn to his grinning half sister. She seemed to be enjoying his stupefaction. “Thanks for helping, Cassie.”

“My pleasure. So what do you think?”

His gaze devoured Lauryn from her satiny hair to her pink-painted toenails. He couldn’t begin to put his thoughts into words. How had he ever believed her plain? Had he been so self-absorbed he’d missed the prize right in front of his face?

Apparently so.

“This cottage is one of my favorites,” Cassie continued.

He jerked his attention back to his half sister. She meant the beach house? “It’s very nice. Comfortable. Private.”

“Excellent. I have to run. I have a hot date tonight with your best man. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Cassie, and thanks again,” Lauryn called out as Cassie climbed in her car.

“You’re welcome. I had fun.”

Adam watched the car pull away and then took another long look at Lauryn. He cursed the months of celibacy since his father’s death. Despite what the tabloids said, Adam hadn’t been in the mood to let anyone get close lately—not even physically. As peeved as he was with his father for refusing to acknowledge his accomplishments even after death, Adam still missed the old man.

Bags rattled as Lauryn shifted in her high-heeled sandals—sandals that made her legs look endless.

“Let me have those.” He relieved her of her load, carried the loot inside to the room he’d chosen for her and dumped the bags on her bed. There were fewer bags than he’d expected. He’d expected her to try to bankrupt him.

Lauryn entered behind him. She scanned the space and then crossed the tile floor to peek into the luxurious bathroom. Her heels added a hypnotizing sway to her hips that he hadn’t noticed before.

Her conservative clothing didn’t scream “do me” like so many of Estate’s patrons did. But there was a subtle sexiness in the way her new sundress skimmed her curves that yanked his awakened libido like an angler setting his hook.

Last night’s kiss at the restaurant had rocked him with a tsunami of unexpected hunger. The one at the airport this morning had rocked him, too. And that was before he’d seen his soon-to-be wife looking like this.

He wanted her. Need pulsed in his gut. But he’d promised to abide by her no-sex rule until she said otherwise.

And dammit, he prided himself on being a man of his word.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to change her mind. But not until after the wedding. Judging by the wariness in her eyes if he tried to seduce her tonight he’d be missing a fiancée before the ceremony tomorrow.

“My bedroom’s across the den.” Desire roughened his voice.

“Okay.” She looked and sounded relieved.

If he wanted to sleep better tonight than he had last night he needed to get out of this room, out of this house before he started picturing Lauryn wearing nothing but sleek, wet skin and a dusting of bubbles in that whirlpool tub. With him beside or beneath her.

Too late. He stifled a groan.

“Where are your glasses?” he asked in an attempt to sideline his illicit thoughts.

White teeth pinched her bottom lip and she wrinkled her nose. She looked so damned adorably guilty he almost whimpered. “I…um, don’t really need them.”

“Why in the hell did you hide behind shapeless clothing and ugly glasses?” It made no sense. The women he knew flaunted their assets. Hell, they paid good money to have bigger, better assets implanted.

“I learned not to draw attention to my looks a long time ago. Men assume if you’re pretty, you’re stupid and available.”

“And you aren’t available?” He knew she wasn’t stupid.

“Not at the moment.”

Her flip response stirred something unfamiliar in him. Possessiveness? No. Determination to make sure this plan worked. He couldn’t afford slip-ups if he wanted the council and his brothers to believe he’d fallen for his straightlaced accountant and settled down. “And you won’t be until after we’re divorced.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

The certainty in her tone raised red flags. Holy hell, was she gay? Did that explain why no one had seen her on a date? South Beach had a large gay population. Was that the real reason she’d moved to Florida? Because her story about her father had seemed a lame reason to move three thousand miles.

No, Lauryn couldn’t be gay. He hadn’t imagined the attraction between them or the hunger in her eyes. He’d felt the softening of her lips beneath his when he’d kissed her, and he’d heard her breath catch each time he’d touched her.

He wanted to kiss her now. To prove his theory.

But he wouldn’t. Not yet.

Even though his neglected hormones had him in a tailspin.

Forget the candles, flowers and prepared meals he’d asked Cassie to arrange so he and Lauryn could play out the lovebirds-needing-privacy farce. He couldn’t handle a romantic dinner on the deck tonight. He needed crowds. Loud music. A noisy restaurant. Distractions. Anything but an intimate dinner for two.

“We’re eating out tonight. Be ready in ten.”

Lauryn’s brow creased. “Cassie said she’d filled the refrigerator with local dishes for us.”

Damn. He’d hoped his half sister had neglected to mention that detail. “She did.”

Lauryn swept back her champagne locks with a newly manicured hand tipped in pearl-pink polish. The muscles of Adam’s abdomen ripped as if she’d scraped those short nails across his flesh.

“Adam, I’d rather postpone the whole putting-on-a-show-for-the-locals thing, if you don’t mind. I know we have to eventually, but it’s our first night here and I’m kind of whipped. Cassie is a shopping machine. Surely if anyone is paying attention to our itinerary they’d expect us to want to be alone sometimes?”

Now that she mentioned it, he could see her fatigue in the faint shadows beneath her eyes and the slight downward turn of her mouth.

For sanity’s sake he should be a bastard and insist on going out, but instead he ground his teeth on a frustrated curse.

It was going to be a long night.

“Pick whatever you want to eat and shove it in the microwave. I’m going for a run. I’ll be back in an hour.”

And then Adam did something he’d never done before.

He ran from a woman.