Mystery Date (Harlequin Blaze) (18 page)

“Here, there.” He furrowed his brow. “Maybe that’s where I picked up the accent.”

“That answer sure covers all the bases.”

After a beat he pushed away his glass. “My family had a ranch in central California a long time ago. I sold it off when they passed on, made my way around, then ended up here.”

See, a little tenacity always paid off. Just when she’d started to think that she wasn’t going to meet any more nonevasive guys in her lifetime, Adam had come through with an actual answer about himself. He seemed more comfortable now, too, and that made her feel the same. She even got the hankering to get a little feisty with her cooking, and she decided to veer from the recipe she’d settled on in her head, chopping up the bacon and putting it into the batter instead of serving it on the side. Then she heated the griddle for the pancakes, adding butter to the surface.

“
Bacon-
and-lemon pancakes?” he asked.

“I’m feeling deviant.” Then she used the same term Callum had back at the first mansion when they’d talked about her cooking habits. “I’m trying a little freestyling.”

Adam paused, then sat back in his stool, running a hand over his chin. “Glad to be here for the big event.”

She poured dollops of batter onto the griddle, standing by with the spatula and a large plate. The aroma of the food added a homey atmosphere to the kitchen, and she was enjoying Adam’s quiet presence. When was the last time she’d felt that way around someone?

“So,” she said, “taking up where you conveniently left off with your life’s story...”

“I was hoping you’d forget what we were talking about.”

She motioned toward herself with the spatula, then started to flip the pancakes. “I’m persistent. At least, I’ve been told.”

“What else do you want to know, then?”

“How about your job? Do you like it?”

“My job.” He made eye contact with her, his gaze gold. “It passes the days.”

“You’d rather be doing something else?” she asked, not thinking about his eyes. Not remotely.

He laughed softly. “Well, I haven’t thought about job options in a long time, Miss Leigh.”

“It’s just Leigh.”

As they looked at each other a beat too long—she, trying to figure out what was going on with herself, he, affable but somehow unreadable—Leigh shut off the griddle, transferring the pancakes to the main plate. She wasn’t sure what it was about Adam, but she felt as if they’d fallen into some kind of immediately friendly groove—that he was a kind of neutral comfort zone for her as they lingered in the kitchen together.

She’d already gotten the bottle of maple syrup out of the cupboard, and not seeing the sense in fancying it up by putting it into a small serving pitcher, she set it on the counter in front of him.

After placing a couple plates there, too, she said, “Load up before I cook up more for your neighbor friend.”

He took a few pancakes but didn’t make a move to go to the small nook table, so she decided there was no harm in eating where they were. Besides, being at the table with him alone seemed like...well, a date or something.

“Oh, damn,” he said after taking a bite. “No wonder you’re a star.”

She started to wave off the compliment but then thought of what Callum had said about how she reacted to praise. So she accepted this one with grace.

“Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you.”

They ate a few bites until she realized that he’d come to survey her again. Enough was enough.

“What?” she asked. “Have I had something on my face the last twenty hours?”

He seemed to realize what he was doing, then stuck his fork into his food. “It’s nothing. I just can’t help wondering...”

“Out with it, please.”

Grinning, he gave in. “It’s Callum.”

“Okay.”

“There’re a few rumors about him being...different. I mean, I’ve met the man, but...”

“There are rumors?”

So who was asking the tough questions now? But she’d been hoping for someone to talk to, and maybe Adam knew something about Callum, even “through the grapevine.”

Leigh glanced around the huge kitchen, then lowered her voice so even a listening device would have a hard time picking up her words, if Callum had gone high-tech and even stranger on her.

“Go on,” she said.

“I’m just kind of curious what you think of him.”

She hadn’t anticipated a question like that, and the first thing that ran through her head was,
I’m in second place.

His wife. He’d told her that he still missed her, still dedicated himself to her. And no matter how Leigh had started to feel about him and how far they’d gone last night, that was all that mattered.

“What do I think?” she repeated, only now attempting to recover, smiling while chasing off the heart-grasping feelings that had rolled over her. “He’s the best host a girl could ask for.”

Adam’s golden, penetrating gaze went a little distant, and at first she thought it was because she sounded so flippant, and maybe even cheap. What else would a cowboy like him think about a woman who was only here for sex? If he even knew what she was here for.

He got up from his stool, grabbing his hat and pushing it onto his head until the brim hid his face. His shoulders were tight, his stance almost awkward.

“That was an intrusive question I shouldn’t have asked,” he said, heading for the exit. “Forget I said anything.”

Now she was utterly bewildered, not only by the feelings his question had evoked but by his behavior.
Did
he think she was a slut and he didn’t want to hear about it?

“Adam,” she said, calling after him. “The pancakes...”

But he was already gone.

* * *

“
I
SHOULDN’T HAVE
been surprised at her answer.”

Adam was in his rented pickup, miles down the road, his cell phone on the dashboard as he talked to Beth. The taste of lemon, bacon and maple syrup still lingered in his mouth.

A random thought rose up among all the others: Leigh had been freestyling with her food this morning. Hadn’t she told him she always played it safe? Somehow he’d believed that reflected a change in her—a sign that she had let go of all her hang-ups and had opened herself up more than usual. Spurred on by the thought of what else she might’ve opened herself up to, “Adam” had asked her what she thought of Callum, giving her an opportunity to say...something. Anything that would give him an idea of... What? If she was feeling something for him?

Why had a tiny flicker of hope inside of him been longing for another sign from her that there was more to the two of them than just sex?

Remorse filled him just as much as a sense of betrayal where Carla was concerned. But there was also a shocking disappointment in the answer he’d actually gotten from Leigh.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Beth asked on the other end of the phone from her home up in Cambria. This morning an urgent board meeting had come up for the day after tomorrow, so she’d been taking care of out-of-state travel arrangements for him. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from pouring this out to her, though.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m getting everything I set out to get from her.” So why did it all feel so empty?

The thought wounded him, a self-inflicted injury, because neither of them was supposed to care. Or maybe it was just Carla’s ghostly voice beating him up from the inside out.
Didn’t you tell me that I would be the only one, forever...?

She’d never said those words to him in real life. It was merely his guilt talking. So why did it always sound so real?

Unfortunately, guilt was what ruled him because, for the first time, he’d been beyond attracted to a woman who wasn’t his wife. He’d never been so confused, hating himself for the wrenching sense of disloyalty that pressed down on him.

He’d played his games, all right, trying to fulfill the needs of his body while keeping his emotions out of it. He’d been so sure he’d held a winning hand the whole time that it stunned him to be trumped by his own feelings.

Beth had been restraining herself from offering any opinions, but he knew what she wanted to say.

“You told me so,” he whispered. “Go ahead, give it to me.”

“No.” Her voice was thick. “I’m not going to add to what we both know will come next with you.”

The dark mood.

“I can tell you’re already worse than usual,” she said. “Why don’t you say what you’re honestly feeling, Adam? Tell me that you’re falling for her.”

“I haven’t. I won’t.” He could turn all his emotions off again, just as he’d done when “cowboy Adam” had heard Leigh’s casual comment about what Callum meant to her.

“Adam,” Beth said. “Goddamn it, when’re you going to finally get over this?”

“Are you talking about mourning Carla?”

“Yes. Because it can’t go on forever.”

But he’d promised Carla forever.

By her bedside, holding her frail hand, a weak smile on her face as he tried not to hold too hard. She obviously knew she was about to go, that she was seeing him for the last time, and she’d been attempting not to cry.

Still, there was a tear that didn’t know any better, and it slid down her cheek, tearing him apart.

“Adam...”

As her voice faded off, he thought of never hearing her say his name again, and he pressed her hand to his cheek. His own wet cheek. He wanted her to know that he would always be hers, wanted her to leave him feeling loved.

“I promise you, Carla, you’ll be the only one I’ll love. Stay with me a little longer, though, okay? Don’t make me think about things like that until...”

But she’d already left him, and as the serrated memory knifed him now, even though she’d never made him promise such a thing, he knew that he could never go through the pain of loss again with anyone. So, really, Leigh had done him a favor by letting “Adam” know what Callum really was to her. Leigh was a sweet, compassionate woman, but that was where it ended.

And that was a good thing.

So why was he sitting here in the darkest mood he’d ever experienced since Carla had died? “Adam?” Beth’s voice. “Did you hear me? The mourning can’t continue.”

He gripped the steering wheel. It wasn’t as if
Leigh
was insisting that he put a stop to his mourning. She was content with the status quo.

A part of his heart seemed to crack off and fall. He should be happy with what he had. Why couldn’t he be?

The more he thought about it, the more he knew that what he’d done as Callum was the right way to go. No hurt, no pain, no emotions.

He would be the ultimate host, if that was what Leigh wanted.

“So what’re you going to do?” Beth asked.

“Do?” He swallowed. “I’m going to continue this date. That’s what she wants, and so do I.”

“I just don’t know what to say to you.” It sounded as if Beth had a lump in her throat, too. “Go ahead. Do what you want. Continue wallowing in your grief and self-destructing. Go on lying to yourself, Adam, and maybe you’ll miraculously feel better in the morning.”

“Maybe I will.”

As they finished their conversation, he told himself that he didn’t need to feel anyway. Feelings were weakness. Feelings killed.

He dialed another number, and when Leigh answered, he had to remind himself that he was Callum the game player and no one else.

11

C
ALLUM HAD TOLD
Leigh to meet him in one hour in the same room they’d been in yesterday. And he’d made one more request.

“When you go in there, choose any outfit you want from the armoire, then wait for me with the blindfold on. I’ll call you.”

Again with the blindfold. He was really determined to keep this secrecy thing going. It wasn’t that she was discouraged by that, it was just...

Duh, Leigh, he all but told you why he does what he does. You don’t have a shot in hell of getting into his heart, because it still belongs to his wife. Just take what he’s offering for what it is—the best sex you’ve ever had.

But was devotion to his wife also the reason he hadn’t stayed with Leigh last night after the sex? Because cuddling and real intimacy were things he’d saved for one woman and one alone?

As Leigh went to the appointed room, she couldn’t get over how sad that was...and yet so romantic.
She’d
never had a man feel that strongly about her, and the fact that Callum had once loved someone that much touched Leigh in a way that nothing in their games ever could.

She opened the door, then closed it behind her, glancing at the other door in the wall. She’d sworn Callum had been waiting behind it yesterday when she’d first arrived, before she’d put on the blindfold. When she looked around now, she could tell he’d already been in here, because there was music playing from an iPod dock on the mahogany nightstand.

No Johnny Cash this time; instead, a country-noir song was whispering to her with a moody lady singing over a sexy guitar and light percussion with some fiddle lingering in the background. The scent of leather haunted the air, as if Callum had left that behind, too.

The cream blindfold she’d used yesterday afternoon waited on the bed just like last time, but she went to the armoire first. When she opened it, she found the silky clothing and suits she’d discovered last time, but she hadn’t gotten to the far side of the wardrobe.

At the sight of the glamorous black-and-white gown hanging there, she pulled in a breath. She took the dress out, and the chiffon skirt tumbled to the carpet. On the bodice, dark beaded swirls decorated the snowy material, but it was the back of the gown that captured her: two black straps crisscrossing, ending up in a big chiffon bow.

Movie stars from the ’40s had worn this kind of dress, and it blew her away that Callum thought this suited her. Then again, he’d always showered her with compliments, even if they’d only been a way to seduce her.

But the whole time, he had you in second place,
she thought again.

After grabbing a pair of strappy pumps from the bottom of the armoire, she went to the bed and pushed aside the mosquito netting, laying the gown on the mattress and doffing her shirt, jeans and undergarments, then slipping into the chiffon. When she had the shoes on, too, she undid her hair from the low ponytail she’d been wearing and went to the full-length mirror.