Читать книгу The Billionaire's Daddy Test - Charlene Sands - Страница 8
ОглавлениеAdam carried Mia down a long corridor heading to the garage. After traveling about twenty steps, the hallway opened to a giant circular room and a streamlined convertible Rolls-Royce popped into her line of vision. The car, a work of art in itself, was parked showroom-style in the center of the round room. She’d never seen such luxury before and was suddenly stunningly aware of the vast differences between Adam Chase and Mia D’Angelo.
She took her eyes off the car and scanned the room. A gallery of framed artwork hung on the surrounding walls and her gaze stopped on a brilliant mosaic mural that encompassed about one-third of the gallery. Her mouth hung open in awe. She pressed her lips together tightly and hoped her gawking wasn’t noticed.
“Adam, you have your own bat cave?”
His lips twitched. He surveyed the room thoughtfully. “No one’s ever described it quite like that before,” he said.
“How many people have seen this?”
“Not many.”
“Ah, so it is your bat cave. You keep it a secret.”
“I had this idea when I was designing the house and it wouldn’t leave me alone. I had to see it through.”
Score one for his perseverance.
“I don’t know much about great works of art, but this gallery is amazing. Are you an art junkie?” she asked.
“More like I appreciate beauty. In all forms.” His eyes touched over her face, admiring, measuring and thoughtful. Heat prickled at the back of her neck. If he was paying her a compliment, she wouldn’t acknowledge it verbally. She couldn’t help it if having a gorgeous man hold her in her arms and whisper sweet words in her ear made her bead up with sweat. But she wasn’t here to flirt, fawn or fantasize. She needed to finesse answers out of him. Period.
He stepped onto the platform that housed the car and opened the passenger door of the Rolls-Royce. “What are you doing?”
“Taking you home.”
“In this? How? I mean, the car’s a part of your gallery. And in case you haven’t noticed, there’s no garage door anywhere.” She double-checked her surroundings. No, she wasn’t mistaken. But just in case the bat cave had secret walls, she asked, “Is there?”
“No, no garage door, but an elevator.”
Again her gaze circled the room. “Where?”
“We’re standing on it. Now let me get you into the car.”
Buttery leather seats cushioned her bottom as he lowered her into the Rolls, his beautiful Nordic face inches from her. The scent of him surrounded her in a halo of arousing aroma. Her breath hitched, she hoped silently. Mia, stop drooling.
“Can you manage the seat belt?” he asked.
Her foot was all bandaged up, not her hands, but still a fleeting thought touched her mind of Adam gently tucking her into the seat belt. “Of course.”
He backed away and came around to the other end of the car and climbed in. “Ready?”
“For?”
“Don’t be alarmed. We’re going to start moving down.”
He pressed a few buttons, and noises that sounded like a plane’s landing gear opening up, filled the room. Mia had a faint notion that they were going to take off somehow. But then the platform began a slow and easy descent as the main floor of Adam’s house began to disappear. Grandma Tess would call it an “E” ticket ride.
She looked up and the ceiling was closing again, kind of like the Superdome. Adam’s gallery had a replacement floor. If he designed this, he was certainly an architectural and mechanical genius.
Score one more for Adam Chase.
Smooth as glass, they landed in a garage on the street level. More noises erupted, she imagined to secure the car elevator onto the ground floor. Inside the spacious garage, three other cars were parked. “Were these cars out of gas?” she asked.
A chuckle rumbled from his throat. “I thought this would be fastest and easier for you. And to be honest, it’s been a while since I’ve taken the Rolls out.”
She liked honesty, but surely he wasn’t trying to impress her? He’d already done that the second he’d strode out of the ocean and come to her aid.
A Jag, an all-terrain Jeep and a little sports car were outdone by the Rolls, yet she wouldn’t turn any one of them down if offered. “So, are you a car fanatic?”
He revved the engine and pressed the remote control. The garage door opened, and sunshine poured in. “So many questions, Mia. Just sit back, stretch out your leg and enjoy the ride.”
What choice did she have? Adam clearly didn’t like talking about himself. Anna’s dying words rang in her head and seized her heart. Clutching her sister’s hand, her plea had been weak but so determined. “Adam Chase, the baby’s real father. Architect. One night...that’s all I know. Find him.”
Anna had been more adventurous than Mia, but now she understood why she’d known little about the man who’d fathered her child. Anna had probably done most of the talking. It had been during the lowest part of her sister’s life, when she thought she’d lost Edward forever. Maybe neither one of them had done much talking.
She glanced at Adam’s profile as he put the car in gear, his wrist resting on the steering wheel. Chiseled cheekbones, thoughtful gray eyes, strong jaw. His hair, kissed by the sun, was cropped short and straight. No rings on his fingers. Again, she wondered if he had a girlfriend or three. Everything about him, his house, his cars, his good looks, screamed babe magnet, yet oddly, her gut was telling her something different, something she couldn’t put her finger on. And that’s why she had to find a way to delay her departure. She didn’t have enough to go on. She certainly couldn’t turn her sweet-cheeked baby Rose over to him. Not yet.
He might not even want her.
Perish the thought. Who wouldn’t want that beautiful baby?
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” he asked. “You can have someone pick up your car later if you can’t drive comfortably.”
“Oh no. Please. Just drive me to my car. It’s not that far, and I’m sure I can drive.”
Adam took his eyes off the road and turned to her. “Okay, if you’re sure.” He didn’t seem convinced.
“My foot’s feeling better already. I’m sure.”
He nodded and sighed, turning his attention back to the road.
“How far?”
“I’m parked at lifeguard station number three.”
“Got it.”
It was less than a mile, and she kept her focus on the glossy waters of Moonlight Beach as he drove the rest of the way in silence. Too soon, they entered the parking lot. “There’s my car.” She pointed to her white Toyota Camry. He pulled up next to it. The Rolls looked out of place in a parking lot full of soccer-mom vans and family sedans. A mustard-yellow school bus was unloading a gaggle of giggling children.
“Hang on,” he said. “I’ll get your gear. Just show me where it is on the beach.”
Whoops. She’d lied about that. She didn’t have so much as a beach towel on the sand. Blinking, she stalled for time. “Oh, I guess I forgot. I must have put everything in my trunk before I took my walk.”
Adam didn’t seem fazed, and she sighed, relieved. He climbed out of the car, jaunted around the front end of the Rolls and stopped on the passenger side. She opened the car door, and he was there, ready to help her out.
His hands were on her again, lifting her, and a warm jolt catapulted down to her belly. She’d never felt anything quite like it before, this fuzzy don’t-stop-touching-me kind of sensation that rattled her brain and melted her insides.
He set her down, and she put weight on her foot. “I’m okay,” she said, gazing into eyes softened by concern.
“You’re sure?”
“If you can just help me to my car, I’ll be fine.”
He wrapped his arm around her waist, and there it was again—warm, gooey sensations swimming through her body. She half hopped, half walked as he carefully guided her to the driver’s side of the car.
“Your keys?” he asked.
She dug her hand into the front pocket of her shorts and came up with her car key. “Right here.”
He stared at her. “Well, then. You’re set.”
“Yes.”
Neither one of them moved. Not a muscle. Not a twitch.
Around them noises of an awakening beach pitched into the air, children’s laughter, babies crying, the roar of the waves hitting the shore, seagulls squawking, and still, it was as if they were alone. The beating of her heart pounded in her skull. Adam wasn’t going to say anything more, although some part of her believed he wanted to.
She rose up on tiptoes, lifted her eyes fully to his and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Adam. You’ve been very sweet.”
His mouth wrenched up. “Welcome.”
“I’d love to repay you for your kindness by cooking you one of my grandmother’s favorite Tuscan dishes, but—”
“But?” His brows arched. He seemed interested, thank goodness.
“My stove is on the blink.” Not exactly a lie. Two burners were out and the oven was temperamental.
He shook his head. “There’s no need to repay me for anything.”
Her hopes plummeted, yet she kept a smile on her face.
“But I love Italian food, so how about cooking that meal at my place when you’re up to it?”
At his place? In that gorgeous state-of-the-art kitchen? Thank goodness for small miracles. “I’d love to. Saturday night around seven?” That would give her three days to heal.
“Sounds good.”
It was a date. Well, not a date.
She was on a mission and she couldn’t forget that.
Even if her mouth still tingled from the taste of his skin on her lips.
* * *
Adam removed his glasses and set them down on the drafting table. He leaned back in his seat and sighed. His tired eyes needed a rest. He closed them and pinched the bridge of his nose as seconds ticked by. How long had he been at it? He turned his wrist and glanced at his watch. Seven hours straight. The villa off the southern coast of Spain he was designing was coming along nicely. But his eyes were crossing, and not even the breezes blowing into his office window were enough to keep him focused. He needed a break.
And it was all because of a beautiful woman named Mia. He’d thought of her often these past two days. It wasn’t often a woman captured his imagination anymore. But somehow this beautiful woman intrigued him. Spending those few hours with her had made him realize how isolated he’d become lately.
He craved privacy. But he hadn’t minded her interrupting his morning, or her nosy questions. Actually, coming to her aid was the highlight of his entire week. He was looking forward to their evening together tomorrow night.
“Adam, you have a phone call,” Mary said, bringing him his cell phone. Few people had his private number, and he deliberately let Mary answer most of the calls when he was working. “It’s your mother.”
He always took his mother’s calls. “Thanks,” he said, and Mary handed him the phone. “Hi, Mom.”
“Adam, how’s my firstborn doing today?”
Adam’s teeth clenched. The way she referred to him was a constant reminder that there had once been three of them and that Lily was gone.
“I’m doing okay. Just finished the day’s work.”
“The villa?”
“Yeah. I’m happy with the progress.”
“Sometimes I can’t get over that you design the most fascinating places.”
“I have a whole team, Mom. It’s not just me.”
“It’s your company, Adam. You’ve done remarkable things with your life.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose again. His mother never came right out and told him she was proud of him. Maybe she was, but he’d never heard the words and he probably never would. He couldn’t blame her. He’d failed in doing the one thing that would’ve made her proud of him, the one thing that would’ve cemented her happy life. Instead, he’d caused his family immense grief.
“Have you spoken with your brother yet?”
He knew this was coming. He braced himself.
“Not yet, but I plan to speak with Brandon this week.”
“It’s just that I’m hoping you two reconcile your differences. My age is creeping up on me, you know. And it’s something I’ve been praying for, Adam...for you and Brandon to act like brothers again.”
“I know, Mom.” The only justice was that he knew his mother was giving Brandon the very same plea. She wanted what was left of her family to be whole again. “I’ve put in a few calls to him. I’m just waiting to hear back.”
“I understand he’s in San Francisco, but he’ll be home tonight.” Home was Newport Beach for his brother. He was a pilot and now ran a charter airline company based out of Orange County. He and Brandon never saw eye to eye on anything. They were as different as night and day. Maybe that’s why Jacqueline, his ex-girlfriend, had gotten involved with his brother. She craved excitement. She loved adventure. Adam would never be convinced that she hadn’t left him for Brandon. Brandon was easygoing and free-spirited, while Adam remained guarded, even though he’d loved Jacqueline with all of his heart.
“Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll work it out with Brandon. He wouldn’t want to miss your birthday party. We both know how important it is to you.”
“I want my boys to be close again.”
Adam couldn’t see that happening. But he’d make sure Brandon would come to celebrate their mother’s seventieth birthday and the two of them would be civil to one another. “I understand.”
It was the best he could do. He couldn’t make promises to his mother about his relationship with Brandon. There was too much pain and injury involved.
“Well, I’d better say goodbye. I’ve got a big day tomorrow. A field trip to the Getty Museum. It’s been a few years since I’ve been there.”
“Okay, Mom. Is Ginny going?”
“Of course. She’s my Sunny Hills partner. We do everything together.”
“And you haven’t gotten on each other’s nerves yet?”
A warmhearted chuckle reached his ears. It was a good sound. One he didn’t hear enough from his mother. “Oh, we have our moments. Ginny can be overbearing at times. But she’s my best friend and next-door neighbor, and we do so love the same things.”
“Okay, Mom. Well, have fun tomorrow.”
“Thanks, dear.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
Adam hung up the phone, picturing his mom at Sunny Hills Resort. It was a community for active seniors, inland and just ten miles away from Moonlight Beach. Thankfully his mother hadn’t balked about leaving Oklahoma and the life she’d always known after his father died. Adam had bought her a home in the gated community, and she seemed to have settled in quite nicely, her middle America manners and charm garnering her many friendships. The activities there kept her busy. He tried to see her at least once or twice a month.
Mary walked into his office. “It’s dinnertime. Are you hungry, Adam?”
“I could eat. Sure.”
“Would you like me to set you up on the veranda? Or inside the kitchen?”
“Kitchen’s fine.”
Mary nodded.
Mary asked him every night, and he always had the same answer for her, but he never wanted her to stop asking. Maybe one night he’d change his mind. Maybe one night he’d want to sit outside and see the sun set, hear distant laughter coming from the shoreline and let faint music reach his ears. Maybe one night he wouldn’t want to eat in solitude, then watch a ball game and read himself to sleep.
“Oh, and Mary?”
She was almost out of the doorway when she turned. “Yes?”
“Take the day off tomorrow. Enjoy a long weekend.”
Sundays and Mondays were her days off. Adam could fare for two days without housekeeping help, unless something important came up. He made sure it didn’t. He had an office in the city where he met with his clients and had meetings with his staff. He often worked on his designs from home. His office was fully equipped with everything he needed.
“Thank you, Adam. Does this have anything to do with that lovely girl you met the other day?”
Mary had been with him since before he’d moved into his house. Some said she had no filter, but Adam liked her. She spoke her mind, and he trusted her, maybe more than some trusted their own relatives. She was younger than his mother but old enough to know the score. “If I told you yes, would you leave it at that?”
A hopeful gleam shined in her blue eyes. “A date?”
Of course she wouldn’t leave it alone. “Not really. She’s coming over to cook for me. As a thank-you for helping her.”
Mary grinned, her face lighting up. “A date. I’ll make sure the kitchen is well stocked.”
“It’s always well stocked, thanks to you, Mary. Don’t worry about it. I imagine she’s bringing over what she needs. So enjoy your Saturday off.”
“And you enjoy your date,” she said. “I’ll go now and set the table for dinner.”
She walked out of the room and Adam smiled. Mia was coming over to make him a meal. For all he knew, she felt obligated to reciprocate a favor. Not that what he’d done had been a favor; anyone with half a heart—that would be him—would’ve helped her out. Who wouldn’t stop for a woman bleeding and injured on the beach?
A beautiful woman, with a knockout body and skin tones that made you want to touch and keep on touching. He had to admit, the thought of her coming over tomorrow got his juices flowing.
And that hadn’t happened in a very long time.
* * *
“Gram, this is so hard,” Mia said, shifting her body to and fro, rocking baby Rose. The baby’s weight drained her strength and stung her arms, but she didn’t want to stop rocking her. She didn’t want to give up one second of her time with Rose. Her sweet face was docile now, so very peaceful. She was a joy, a living, breathing replica of her mama. How could she lose Anna a second time? “I can’t imagine not seeing her every day. I can’t imagine giving her up.”
“She’s ours, too, you know.” Grandma Tess sat in her favorite cornflower-blue sofa chair. As she smiled her encouragement the wrinkles around her eyes deepened. “We won’t really be giving her up,” she said softly. “I’m sure...this Adam, he’ll do the right thing. He’ll allow you contact with the baby.”
“Allow.” A frown dragged at her lips. She’d raised Rose from birth. They’d bonded. Now someone would have the power to allow her to see Rose?
“He may not be the father, after all. Have you thought about that?”
“I have,” she said, her hips swinging gently. “But my gut’s telling me he’s the one. Rose has his eyes. And his hair coloring. She’s not dark like us.”
“Well, then, maybe you should get going. Lay the baby down in the playpen. She’ll probably sleep most of the night. We’ll be fine—don’t you worry.”
“I know. She loves you, Gram.” Tears formed in her eyes. Her heart was so heavy right now. She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to see Adam Chase tonight. She wanted to stay right here with Rose and Gram. She caught the moisture dripping from her eyes with a finger and sighed. “I won’t be late. And if you need me for anything, call my cell. I’ll keep it handy.”
She laid the baby down in the playpen that served as the crib in Gram’s house. Wearing a bubblegum-pink sleep sack, Rose looked so cozy, so content. Mia curled a finger around the baby’s hair and, careful not to wake her, whispered, “Good night, Sweet Cheeks.”
She left the baby’s side to lean down to kiss Gram’s cheek. Her skin was always warm and supple and soft like a feather down pillow. “Don’t bother getting up. I’ll lock you in.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Don’t forget the groceries.”
“I won’t,” she said.
As she passed the hallway mirror, she gave herself a glance. She wore a coral sundress with an angled shoulder and a modest hemline. Her injured foot had healed enough for her to wear strappy teal-blue flat sandals that matched her teardrop necklace and earrings. Her hair was down and slight waves touched the center of her back.
“You look beautiful, Mia.”
“Thanks, Gram.” She lifted the bag of foodstuffs she’d need to make the meal, glanced at Rose one more time and then exited her grandmother’s house, making sure to lock the door.
The drive to Adam Chase’s estate was far too short. She reached his home in less than twenty minutes. Her nerves prickled as she entered the long driveway and pressed the gate button. After a few seconds, Adam’s strong voice came over the speaker. “Mia?”
“Yes, hello... I’m here.”
Nothing further was said as the wrought-iron gates slid away, concealing themselves behind a row of tall ivy scrubs. She drove on, her hands tight on the steering wheel, her heart pumping. She had half a mind to turn the car around and forget she’d ever met Adam Chase. If only she had the gumption to do that. He would never know he had produced a child. But how fair would that be to him or to Rose? Would she wonder why she didn’t know her father and try to find him once she grew up? Would she pepper her aunt Mia with questions and live her life wondering about her true parents?
In her heart, Mia knew she was doing the right thing. But why did it have to hurt so much?
She parked her car near the front of the house on the circular drive. Adam waited for her on the steps of the elaborate front door, his hands in the pockets of dark slacks. Her breath hitched. A charcoal silk shirt hugged arms rippling with muscle and his silver-gray eyes met hers through the car window. Before she knew it, he was approaching and opening the car door for her. His scent wafted up, clean and subtly citrus.
“Hello, Mia.” His deep voice penetrated her ears.
She took a breath to calm her nerves. “Hi.”
“How are you?” he asked.
“I’m all healed up thanks to you.”
“Good to hear. I’ve been looking forward to the meal you promised.” He stretched his hand out to her and she took it. Enveloped in his warmth, she stepped out of the car.
“I hope I didn’t overstate my talents.”
His gaze flowed over her dress first and then sought the depth of her eyes. “I don’t think you did.” A second floated by. “You look very nice.”
“Thank you.”
He spied the grocery bag on the passenger seat and without pause lifted it out. “Ready?”
She gulped. “Yes.”
He walked alongside her, slowing his gait to match hers. As they climbed wide marble steps, he reached for the door and pushed it open for her. Manners he had. Another plus for Adam Chase. “After you,” he said, and once again she stepped inside his mansion.
“I still can’t get over this home, Adam. The bat cave is one thing, but the rest of this house is equally mind-blowing. I bet it was a dream of yours from early on, just like your gallery garage.”
“Maybe it was.”
He was definitely the king of ambiguity. Adam, guarded and private, never gave much away about himself. Already he was fighting her inquiries.
“I’ve got wine ready on the veranda, if you’d like a drink before you start cooking.”
“We.”
“Pardon me?”
“You’re going to help me, Adam.” Maybe she could get him to open up while chopping vegetables and mincing meat.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought I’d just watch.”
“That’s no fun.” She smiled. “You’ll enjoy the meal more knowing you’ve participated.”
“Okay,” he said, nodding his head. “I’ll try. But I’m warning you, I’ve never been too good in the kitchen.”
“If you can design a house like this, you can sauté veggies. I’m sure of it.”
He chuckled and his entire face brightened. Good to see. She followed him into the kitchen, where he set her bag down on an island counter nearly bigger than the entire kitchen in her apartment. Oh, it would be a thrill cooking in here.
“So what’s the dish called?”
“Tagliatelle Bolognese.”
“Impressive.”
“It’s delicious. Unless you’re a vegetarian. Then you might have issues.”
“You know I’m not.”
She did know that much. They’d shared a meal together. “Well, since the sauce needs simmering for an hour or two, maybe we’ll have our wine after we get the sauce going.”
“Sounds like a plan. What should I do?”
She scanned his pristine clothing. “For one, take your shirt off.”
A smile twitched at his lips. “Okay.”
He reached for the top button on his shirt. After unfastening it, he unbuttoned the next and the next. Mia’s throat went dry as his shirt gaped open, exposing a finely bronzed column of skin. She hadn’t forgotten what he looked like without a shirt. Just three days ago he’d strode out of the sea, soaking wet, taking confident strides to come to her aid.
“Why am I doing this?” he asked finally. He was down to the fourth button.
Her gaze dipped again and she stared at his chest. “Because, uh, the sauce splatters sometimes. I wouldn’t want you to ruin your nice shirt.”
“And why aren’t you doing the same? Taking off that beautiful dress?”
Her breath hitched. He was flirting, in a dangerous way. “Because,” she said, digging into her bag and grabbing her protection. “I brought an apron.”
She snapped her wrist and the apron unfolded. It was an over-the-head, tie-at-the-waist apron with tiny flowers that didn’t clash with her coral dress. She put it on and tied the straps behind her back. “There. Why don’t you change into a T-shirt or something?”
He nodded. “I’ll be right back.”
By the time Adam returned, she had all the ingredients in place. He wore a dark T-shirt now, with white lettering that spelled out Catalina Island. “Better?”
The muscles in his arms nearly popped out of the shirt. “Uh-huh.”
“What now?” he asked.
“Would you mind cutting up the onions, celery and garlic?”
“Sure.”
He grabbed a knife from a drawer and began with the onions. While he was chopping away, she slivered pieces of pork and pancetta. “I’ll need a frying pan,” she said. Her gaze flew to the dozens of drawers and cabinets lining the walls. She’d gotten lucky; the chopping blocks and knives were on the countertop.
“Here, let me.” Adam reached for a wide cabinet in front of her and grazed the tops of her thighs with his forearm as he opened the lower door. She froze for a second as a hot flurry swept through her lower parts. It was an accidental touch, but oh how her body had reacted. His fingertips simply touched the drawer loaded with shiny pots and pans and it slid open automatically. “There you go.”
She stood, astonished. “I’ve never seen anything like that. You have a bat cave kitchen, too.”
“It’s automated, that’s all. No pulling or yanking required.”
“I think I’m in heaven.” How wistful she sounded, her voice breathy.
Adam stood close, gazing at her in that way he had, as if trying to figure her out. His eyes were pure silver gray and a smidgen of blue surrounded the rims. They reminded her of a calm sea after a storm. “I think I am, too.”
She blinked. His words fell from his lips sincerely, not so much heady flirtation but as if he’d been surprised, pleasantly. Her focus was sidetracked by compelling eyes, ego-lifting words and a hard swimmer’s body. Stop it, Mia. Concentrate. Think about Rose. And why you are here.
She turned from him and both resumed their work. After a minute, she tossed the veggies into the fry pan, adding olive oil to the mix. The pan sizzled. “So, did you help your mother cook when you were a boy?” she asked.
Grandma Tess always said you could judge a man by the way he treated his mother.
“Nah, my mom would toss us boys out of the kitchen. Only Lily was— Never mind.”
She turned away from the clarifying onions and steaming veggies to glance at his profile. A tic worked at his jaw, his face pinched. “Lily?”
“My sister. She’s gone now. But to answer your question, no, I didn’t help with meals much.”
He’d had a sister, and now she was gone? Oh, she could relate to that. Her poor sweet Anna was also gone. He didn’t want to talk about his sister. No great surprise. She’d already learned that Adam didn’t like to talk about himself. “Do you have brothers?”
“One.”
He didn’t say more. It was like the proverbial pulling teeth to get answers from him.
She added the pork to the mix and stirred. “Did you grow up around here?” she asked matter-of-factly.
“No, did you?”
“I grew up not far from here. In the OC.” She didn’t like thinking about those times and how her family had been run out of town, thanks to her father. She, her mama and sister had had to leave their friends, their home and the only life they’d ever known because of James Burkel. Mia had cried for days. It wasn’t fair, she kept screaming at her mother. But it hadn’t been her mother’s fault. Her mother had been a victim, too, and the scandal of her father’s creation had besmirched the family name. The worst of it was that an innocent young girl had lost her life. “Here, stir this for me,” she said to Adam, “if you wouldn’t mind. We’re caramelizing the meat and veggies now and don’t want them to burn. I’ll get the sauce.”
“Sure.” He grabbed the wooden spoon from her hands and stood like stone, his face tightly wound as he concentrated on stirring. She was sorry she’d made him uncomfortable with her questions. But they had to be asked.
“Okay, in goes the sauce. Stand back a little.”
He turned her way. “What’s that?”
She gripped a tube of tomato paste in her hand and squeezed. Red paste swirled out. “Tuscan toothpaste.”
He laughed, surprised. “What?”
“That’s what we call it. It’s concentrated sauce. Very flavorful. Take a taste.”
She sunk her spoon into the sauce and then brought it to his mouth. His lips parted, his head bent and his eyes stayed on hers as she gave him a taste. “Might be a little hot.”
He swallowed, nodding his head. “It’s so good.”
“I know. Yummy.”
His eyes twinkled. There was a moment of mischief, of teasing, and his smile quickened her heart. “Yummy,” he repeated.
The staunch set of his jaw relaxed and she stared at his carefree expression. She liked the unguarded Adam best.
After tossing in the herbs and the rest of the ingredients, she set the pan to simmer and they left the kitchen for the open-air veranda. “I don’t usually come out here,” Adam said, pulling out a chair for her. “But I thought you might like it.”
The sun was dipping, casting a shimmering glow on the water. Hues of grape and sherbet tangled through the sky. It was glorious. There was nothing better than a beachside view of the horizon at this time of day. “Why not, Adam? If I lived here, I’d spend every night watching the sunset.”
“It’s...” His face pinched tight again, and she couldn’t figure out if it was pain or regret that kept him from saying more. Maybe it was both? “Never mind.”
Lonely. Was that what he was going to say? Was this intelligent, wealthy, physically perfect specimen of man actually lonely?
“Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“Cabernet goes well with Italian.”
“It does.”
He poured her a glass, and she waited for him before taking her first sip.
“Mmm. This is delicious.”
The veranda spread out over the sand in a decking made entirely of white stone. A circular area designated the fire pit and off to the side, a large in-ground spa swirled with invigorating waters. She’d been here before, sat close to this very spot, but she’d been too immersed in her mission to really take note of the glorious surroundings. Sheer draperies billowed behind them.
“I’m glad you like it.”
What was not to like? If only she could forget who Adam Chase really was.
They sipped wine and enjoyed the calm of the evening settling in. A few scattered beachgoers would appear, walking the sands in the distance, but other than that, they were completely alone.
“Why did you leave Orange County? For college?” he asked.
“No, it was before that.” The wine was fruity and smooth and loosened her tongue, but she couldn’t tell Adam the reason her mother had picked up and left their family home. She’d been careful not to share the closest things about herself to Adam, in case Anna had divulged some of their history to him. While Anna had kept the last name Burkel, Mia had legally changed her name to her mother’s maiden name, D’Angelo, as an adult. Mia was dark haired with green eyes, while her sister had been lighter in complexion and bottle blonde. She wondered if Adam would even remember much about Anna. It had been a one-night fling, and a big mistake, according to Anna. “After my mother and father got divorced, we came to live with my grandmother.”
It was close to the truth.
“I see. Where did you go to school?”
“I graduated from Santa Monica High and put myself through community college. I bet you have multiple degrees.”
“A few,” he admitted and then sipped his drink. His gaze turned to the sea.
“You’re very talented. I’m curious. Why did you decide to become an architect?”
He shrugged, deep in thought. Oh no, not another evasive answer coming on. Was he trying to figure out a way out of her question? “I guess I wanted to build something tangible, something that wouldn’t blow over in the wind.”
“Like the three little pigs. You’re the smart pig, building the house made of bricks.”
His lips twitched again and he lifted his glass to his mouth. “You do have a way of putting things. I’ve never been compared to a pig before.” He sipped his drink.
“A smart pig, don’t forget that. You build structures that are sturdy as well as beautiful.”
He nodded. “Foundation comes first. Then I layer in the beauty.”
She smiled. “I like that.”
He reached for her hand. “And I like you, Mia.” The hand covering hers was strong and gentle.
His eyes were warm, darkening to slate gray and as liquid as the sensations sprinting through her body right now. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This intense, hard-to-ignore feeling she got in the pit of her belly. She couldn’t be attracted to him. It was impossible and would ruin everything.
She slipped her hand from his and rose from her seat. “I think I’d better check on the meal.”
His chair scraped back as he stood. Always the gentleman. “Of course.”
She scurried off, mentally kicking herself. An image of Adam’s disappointed face followed her into the kitchen.
