Molten Gold

Elizabeth
Lapthorne

Lieutenant Jared Teague lands unexpectedly on journalist Adelaide
Baker’s doorstep one day with surprising news. An Army buddy of her late
uncle’s was in possession of a gold bar, thought to have been a relic from Saddam
Hussein’s regime. He believes her Uncle Mark might have known where there were
more. Equal parts outraged and curious, Adelaide senses a brilliant story, if
only she can get her mind off the handsome lieutenant and onto the job at hand.

When her curiosity lands her in deep trouble, Adelaide turns
to Jared for help. Together they must uncover what really went on in the desert
heat all those years ago. Adelaide’s lust for Jared is returned in equal
measure and the two join forces both on the case and between the sheets. Soon
Adelaide realizes she wants him for far longer than one story.

Reader Advisory: This story has graphic sexual language and
scenes—no closed bedroom doors (or other rooms) here!

A
Romantica®
thriller erotic romance
from Ellora’s Cave

Adelaide Baker was going to melt in this heat.

Dressed only in a tank top and shorts, she had the fan
directed exactly on her body as she sat at her computer and tried to write. Yet
still she sweated. Beads ran down her back, and her thighs stuck to the chair.
Lifting her straight blonde hair off the back of her neck, she used a hair
elastic to tie it up in a messy knot.

Fanning her face, she rolled her amber-brown eyes and tried
to focus.

She was meant to be writing an article about the surge in
abandoned animals the county pound needed help rehousing, but it just wasn’t
working for her. Every time she recalled the visit she’d made, all those dogs
barking, the clear distress most of the animals felt at being caged up and in
such an intense atmosphere filled with visceral fear, it made her stomach
clench. The fact that she’d been so deeply affected was coming through in her
writing, loud and clear. When she reread the paragraphs she kept trying to form
it sounded so melodramatic, as if she were purposely sensationalizing it.

Maybe if I write it from the animals’ perspective?
she pondered. While Adelaide certainly wanted to tug on people’s heartstrings,
have them donate either time or money, or better yet rescue some of the poor
captives, she didn’t want it to be so blatant many readers would read the
opening paragraph and skip the article entirely. It was a delicate balance and
one she wasn’t sure she could do justice when her visit was still so vivid in
her mind.

Indeed, she had fallen in love with a ginger-and-white cat,
a large-boned beast who had been starved. Adelaide was giving herself a day or
two to calm down, but she had a feeling she’d be returning for the cat and
adopting him soon.

She shook her head and dropped her hands back to the
keyboard.

Daydreaming is not going to get this article written
before deadline,
she chided herself.

Adelaide had a lot of leeway with her editor. Friends since
grade school, she and Frank had initially bonded over a shared love of peanut
butter sandwiches and grown up together from there. Both had been only children
in an area where three or four kids per family was the norm. Without ever
saying so, they’d adopted each other, and no matter the distance of separation
or how long since the last communication, they’d always found it easy to pick
up their friendship wherever they’d left off.

She’d left the small country town in rural Georgia for the
bright lights of the snazzy city and a college course in journalism. The faster
pace of Atlanta had been intoxicating at first, but had soon palled when she’d
realized blogs and newspaper articles were less about research and important
content and more about whatever the topic
du jour
was.

Adelaide had already been considering her options when she’d
received word from her Uncle Mark that her parents had died in a tragic car
accident. It was now nearly ten years since she’d moved back home and she
didn’t regret it a bit. The only truly sour spot had been losing her Uncle Mark
to a heart attack eighteen months before. The decorated soldier had lived a full
life, but in her mind he’d still been too young to pass.

Feeling restless, Adelaide stood and moved away from her
computer. The moment she stepped out of the fan’s breeze, the humidity clung to
her skin, the hot air suffocating. She went into the kitchen, opened the fridge
and poured herself a tall glass of homemade lemonade.

Unsure whether she was just in a strange mood or whether thinking
about the abandoned animals had led her to painful memories of her uncle,
Adelaide tried to clear her head. Uncle Mark had always indulged her—spoiled
her, really. He’d let her climb all over him as a child, then sent small tokens—dolls
and gifts from the exotic lands he’d traveled to. They’d been regular pen pals
all through his Army years and service in the Delta forces. He’d played a large
part in her love for writing, her interest in researching what was really
happening in the world.

Uncle Mark had been a big influence throughout her life and the
reason she’d gone into journalism in the first place. She owed him everything.

Resigned to an unproductive day, Adelaide took a long drink
from her glass. She mentally sifted through the articles she had filed on her
computer. Always prepared, she kept a dozen or so filler stories pre-written
for emergencies. She didn’t like the thought of needing to use one, but today
was looking to be a bust. And to be honest, she wasn’t sure she’d be up to
writing the heart-wrenching piece anytime soon.

If nothing else came along in the next twenty-four hours,
she’d need to use a pre-written article to make her deadline. Frank was her
friend, but he was an editor too, and the paper needed stories to go to print.

Maybe if she went for a walk, cleared her head and got some
fresh air…

The doorbell rang.

Frowning, Adelaide looked at the clock. It was a little
after two, the height of the day’s heat. Who the hell would be out visiting on
a day like today? She wasn’t expecting anyone. She debated answering the door.
On a day like today, even if her callers were a couple of Mormons, politeness
would dictate that she invite them inside for a cold drink. And unless she had
a predetermined, socially acceptable excuse, a bit of manners could cost her
hours.

And she really did need to try again at the article.

The chimes sounded again. Adelaide licked her lips
nervously. Each time had been just a single
dong
, so it wasn’t an urgent
matter, or a friend who was impatient at being made to wait out in the heat
unnecessarily. Her car was parked in full view in the driveway.

She took another quick gulp of the refreshing lemonade and
placed the glass on the counter. Adelaide picked up a pen and stuck it behind
her ear. She hurried over to the door and opened it before her caller could
ring a third time.

Half-formed apologies and offers of a chilled bottle of
water died on her tongue. A stranger stood on her stoop, and he sure as
anything wasn’t a salesman or a man hoping to introduce her to spirituality.

Tall and with a solid build, the gentleman had black hair
and dark-brown eyes. His broad shoulders filled out a green military uniform
jacket to perfection. Three rows of ribbons were pinned over a pocket, the only
bright spot of color on the somber suit. Adelaide noticed there were lieutenant’s
bars on his shoulders. A brass nameplate read Jared Teague.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” Jared said.

Despite the heat of the afternoon, the man looked freshly
pressed and completely crisp to Adelaide. She had no clue why this man was on
her doorstep, but he was handsome. The eye candy alone had made it worth her
while answering his knock. Thinking he might be collecting funds, she looked
down at his hands.

But he held no can or clipboard. His arms hung straight at
his sides, his feet in Army rest position.

Curious, she had to suppress her journalistic streak.
Clearly there was a story here, possibly even an interesting one.

There isn’t a mystery behind every commonplace event,
Addy,
she chided herself.

Realizing she’d been staring, she reverted to her deeply
ingrained manners.

“May I help you, sir?” she asked.

“My name is Lieutenant Jared Teague, ma’am,” Jared replied.
“And I’m hoping you can spare me a few minutes of your afternoon. I have some
questions about Captain Mark Baker, please.”

“Uncle Mark?” Adelaide repeated, feeling stupid. She should
have guessed it would relate to her uncle. He was the only connection she had with
the US Army. Even more curious now, she opened the door fully and stepped back.

“Well, of course. Please, won’t you come in, Lieutenant
Teague? Would you like a cold drink? It’s quite a warm day.”

“I wouldn’t want to put you out, ma’am. And please, call me
Jared.”

“Oh, it’s no bother at all,” Adelaide reassured him. “And
I’m Adelaide.”

Jared stepped over the threshold and into the entryway.
Adelaide shut the door behind him in the vain hope of keeping some of the heat
out of the house. She led the way into her living room and gestured to the
couch.

“Please make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back. Is
chilled lemonade all right? Or would you prefer some iced tea?”

“Lemonade sounds perfect, thank you.”

Adelaide smiled and quickly walked down the hall. She fanned
her face, cringing inside at what a mess she must look. Ducking her head into
the powder room, she glanced at herself in the large mirror.

Her hair was a mess and her skin was shiny. She saw the pen
behind her ear and wrinkled her nose.
What a dork!
Removing the pen, she
crossed the floor and filled the basin with cool water. Splashing water onto
her face, she tried to take some of the flush from her cheeks.

With a plush hand towel, she dabbed herself dry. She wished
she had time to change into something a little more appropriate, but that would
be embarrassing when he realized what she’d done.

Mercy, the man was an eyeful. Heat sprang to her neck and
face again as she pictured him. All hard planes and rocklike muscles. Tanned
skin and piercing eyes. There was an image to hold close at night when her bed
was depressingly empty.

Feeling the pressure of the seconds ticking away, she left
the powder room and hurried into the kitchen.

Adelaide pulled out a small tea tray. In quick succession
she opened a packet of cookies and arranged them on a small plate, then got a
tall glass and half-filled it with ice cubes. The pitcher of lemonade from the
fridge followed, along with a handful of brightly colored napkins.

With a deep breath, Adelaide surveyed her offerings.
Compared to what her mother would have expected, it was meager. But at a
moment’s notice it wasn’t too shabby either.

Lifting the tray, Adelaide went back to where the sexy lieutenant
was waiting patiently. She placed it carefully on a small, round coffee table
and filled the glass from the pitcher. Handing him the cool drink, she also
offered him the plate of cookies.

He took a sip of the lemonade, then a bite of cookie.
Adelaide took a cookie for herself, then sat.

“These are fine, thank you,” Jared said.

Well-raised in the art of social chitchat, Adelaide sat
forward and studied the soldier. “Have you traveled far?”

“No, I work at the local barracks. Although I do tend to
travel semi-frequently, today was a fairly brief drive. Which is lucky, in
midsummer.”

“Well, the heat hardly seems to affect you,” Adelaide said
with complete honesty. “Have you been home long?”

Adelaide was far from a military buff, but her close ties
with her uncle had rubbed off on her. She recognized a few of the badges and
ribbons. Jared had seen action away from home, she was positive of it.

“I finished my second tour almost a year ago,” Jared said in
a softer tone. “While part of me wanted to go back for a third, I’d seen a lot
and lost some close friends. I thought it might be time for me to help here in
the States and leave some of the heroism to our younger troops.”

“I think there’s plenty of room for heroism here on home
soil,” Adelaide insisted. “Sometimes remaining behind is even more difficult
than going into the heat of battle. I wouldn’t sell yourself or your
contributions short.”

Jared tilted his head, acknowledging the truth in her words.
“You have a lovely home,” he complimented her.

“Why, thank you.” Adelaide still felt a flush of pride that
she’d managed to keep hold of her parents’ house. It had been difficult at
times, but well worth the effort. “Mama would scold me, I’m sure, for some of
the choices I’ve made with the house. But I’d like to think she and Daddy would
be pleased not only that I’ve kept it, but that it’s still a warm and inviting
home. That’s all they ever really wanted for this place.”

“The paintings are interesting,” Jared said. “Is it local
talent? There seems to be a vibrancy in the landscapes, especially the one of
the beach.”

“That’s down at Tybee Island,” Adelaide explained. “And yes.
I was covering a local art exhibit for the paper I work for. I saw that beach
scene and I knew I had to have it. Mama and Daddy took me down to Tybee a
number of times when I was a child. I have nothing but wonderful memories of
day trips and a few longer stays. Once I’d decided on that one, I noticed the
two others by the same artist, and it seemed better to get them all than regret
missing out later.”

“I’ve not been down to Tybee,” Jared admitted. “But maybe
one day. That painting certainly gives me an incentive to see the shore for
myself.”

Adelaide realized Jared was letting her relax with small talk.
Charmed by his manners but wanting to hear what he’d come to say, she decided
to bite the bullet.

“You certainly don’t seem nervous about whatever you want to
ask me,” she said. “But the only reason I can think you’d be gentleman enough
to lull me with social pleasantries is because whatever you wish to discuss
won’t be easy. I’m a big girl and a journalist. I’ve seen and experienced
plenty in my time. I’m sure you can’t shock me. If you’re simply enjoying a
proper visit, I’m happy to accommodate you. But if you’re delaying asking what
you need to for the sake of my comfort, please don’t.”

Jared drained his glass and placed it back on the tray.

“I’m certainly enjoying the undivided attention of a
beautiful woman,” he said. “And I’m very grateful for the lemonade and cookies.
As you said, it’s quite warm out there. But I probably shouldn’t take up too
much more of your time than necessary, that’s true.”

“That’s not what I meant—” Adelaide began, but he held up a
hand to cut her off. She felt mortified that Jared might think she wanted to
get rid of him.