Naked Disclosure (5 page)

“Mom. We need the help of He Who Must Not Be Named.”

“No!” Aphrodite whirled and faced her son. “I don’t need him, Eros. I’ve been handling Nemesis and love for millennia.”

“You were always stronger with him,” said Eros.

“My best self,” she softly agreed. She shook off whatever sentimentality had drew those words from her. “I don’t want to talk about Hephaestus. Let’s go have a drink at Beautiful Beaux.”

“I’m in,” said Daphne.

“We’re out,” said Eros. He gripped his wife’s hand and they disappeared.

Daphne slung her arm around Aphrodite. “C’mon, lady. First lap dance is on me. And then you.”

ONE WEEK LATER…

Adam drove his F150 up the imposing driveway that had already been cleared from last night’s snowfall. The three-story Victorian was in near perfect condition, as gorgeous now as it had been in its heyday. It was also a shade of pink that made him shudder in masculine terror. It looked like a gingerbread house surrounded by mounds of white frosting.

He followed the circular drive halfway then parked. It took him a moment to gather the courage to get out of the truck and walk up the three wooden steps to the porch.

As he crossed to the etched glass door, it swung open. A slight girl with gray eyes and blonde hair beckoned him forward. “Come in, Mr. Redmont. I’m Mettie Jamison, Miss Odie’s assistant.”

He had to admit, he was terrified to cross into the domain ruled absolutely by Odemina Wilson. He nodded to the girl then stepped inside. She took his coat and gloves then led him to the left and gestured for him to enter a big parlor. For just a second, he felt as if he’d gone back a hundred years in time.

“All original furnishings,” said Mettie. “And as far as I can tell, still sitting in the same locations Miss Odie’s great-great-grandmother arranged them.” With a flourish of her hand, she indicated he should sit down a red-velvet couch with fancy wood scrollwork along its top. Though he felt like a fool, he did so.

“Would you enjoy a cup of tea?” she asked.

“No, thank you. But if you had a shot of tequila, I might well say yes.”

She grinned then slipped from the room, her job done.

Odemina made him wait fifteen minutes in the room filled with antiques and smelling like lemon wood polish. When she finally deigned to join him, she walked in leaning heavily on a silver-tipped cane. Regally, slowly, she made her way to a wingback placed opposite of the love seat. Separating the seating arrangement was a large cherry wood table filled with ceramic bric-a-brac.

Miss Odie was a small, thin woman, as white as paper and just as sharp-edged. She was dressed in a simple black dress with a single strand of pearls dangling from her neck. Her gray hair was done up in a double-bun and pearls shone at ears. She wore black hose and black shoes. Miss Odie never wore any other color—not since the death of her husband, Jeremiah Wilson ten years before.

“Mettie tells me turned down tea in favor of spirits,” said Odemina. She said spirits in the same way a preacher might say Satan. Her brown gaze sparkled with ire and intelligence, pinning him like a carnivore that had just discovered a tasty bit of meat.

Adam’s mouth opened then closed. Good Lord, it was a blow to his manhood to realize how much awe and fear he held in reserve for Miss Odie. She was a formidable woman. Finally, he said, “Yes, I did, ma’am. In jest.”

“You have a peculiar sense of humor, Mr. Redmont.”

“If you say so, ma’am.”

She narrowed her gaze at him, taking his measure. Or maybe she was supposed to wear glasses and pride kept her from correcting her vision in such an obvious way. His own grandmother refused to go to the eye doctor until she plowed through the garage door with her Honda. The remote control hadn’t worked and she was so vision-impaired she hadn’t realized the door never rolled up.

“You know my granddaughter, Victoria Hunton.”

Boy, did he ever. His heart squeezed. He’d had an ache in his chest from the moment he’d left Torie alone in that room with just his angry words to remember him by. He had some time to think about what she’d said, and realized he’d overreacted. A lot.

“Victoria’s got gumption. Like me.”

He didn’t know how to respond so he merely nodded.

“I heard tell her little business is putting a hurt on yours.”

“Competition is healthy,” he said unconvincingly.

Yeah. A week away from Victoria had definitely cooled his ire. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, in particular the look on her face as he let his pride dictate his final words to her. He’d hurt her.

Now, he that his mind was less clogged, he could admit they’d enjoyed each other. He’d told himself plenty of times that the mind-blowing sex had been enough. He’d also told himself that she wanted nothing more than to blackmail him to cement her business in Broken Arrow. Of course, he’d long since realized that he didn’t really believe she’d had sex with him to somehow finish off ProCare. The idea, especially when discussed with his brother Ian, sounded ridiculous. Ian’s laughter still echoed in his fool head.

Damn it. He hated thinking that he might very well have told Victoria no if she’d revealed her identity after that snowy kiss. What a shameful thing to know about himself—that he would’ve judged her motives without getting to know her. In fact, he had done that exact thing after getting to know her in the biblical sense.

“Pride is a terrible burden,” said Miss Odie. “Pride lost me a daughter, Mr. Redmont. And it might very well have lost me a granddaughter if she hadn’t had the heart to forgive an old woman. She’s patient, that one. Sweet, too.”

He knew Miss Odie’s reputation well enough to be impressed. She wasn’t one to heap compliments on anyone—not even relations. Miss Odie seemed to be waiting for him to respond. So he said, “I’m sure you’re right about your granddaughter. I think she’s…quite wonderful.”

“Do you?” She seemed to consider his words. Then she said softly, “What kind of woman takes a man’s body and rejects the rest of him?”

Adam felt the blood drain out of his face. Did Odemina Wilson know about the Cupid Club? About the night he and her granddaughter had shared? He wanted lightning to strike him or Mettie Jamison to smack him unconscious with a tequila bottle. He’d take any abuse or punishment to avoid hearing that the town matriarch knew he’d fucked her only heir.

Miss Odie wasn’t looking at him, though. Her eyes looked distant, as if she were remembering something that pained her. After a moment, her face cleared and her eyes found his again. “That’s what my daughter said to me when she ran off with Victoria’s father. I couldn’t abide it, Mr. Redmont. Couldn’t give up my pride to accept my daughter and the husband she’d chosen. It’s too late to take back my words or my actions.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Odie,” Adam said gently. He was sorry, too. It had to hurt a mother deeply to not only outlive her child, but know that the wounds between them would never be healed.

“Thank you for your kindness,” she said. After a pause, she added, “How much, Mr. Redmont?”

“Pardon me?”

“Boy, you’re not deaf or dumb. How much money do you want to keep away from my granddaughter?”

“Seems to me, Miss Odie, you’re about to make the same mistake twice.”

She straightened in her chair and smacked the cane on the floor. Her gaze sparked with her infamous temper. “Mind your tone. Victoria has been moping around town for a whole week. Won’t tell me why.” Miss Odie sniffed, her regal head tilted up. “Doesn’t want to upset me or get my dander up. But I make it my business to know what goes on in my town.”

Her gaze let him know what business she knew and Adam felt embarrassment heat his neck. Oh my God. Odemina Wilson not only knew about the Cupid Club, but that he’d spent New Year’s night with her granddaughter in one of its private rooms.

“I can’t do a damned thing about the strip club, but I bought that apple farm. I shut down that nonsense going on in the barn. I won’t have that kind of randy behavior going on in my town. People need to get to know each other’s hearts before they start taking off their clothes.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Adam managed around the knot in his throat.

“You’ve already mind up your mind about my granddaughter,” said Miss Odie. “Haven’t you?”

“Yes,” said Adam, knowing that he’d made up his mind but good.

“I would like you to stay away from her, Mr. Redmont. And I’m willing to pay you to do it.”

Flummoxed by this firmly delivered edict, Adam stared at her. Obviously, Miss Odie was used to verbally walloping people in conversation because she met his gaze head-on without apology.

“I won’t take your money. And I won’t stay away from Victoria. I like her.” The moment the words popped out of his mouth, he realized it was more than true. He did like her. Liked her a whole helluva lot. Well, then. What was he doing here jawing with her grandmother?

“I’m a powerful woman, Mr. Redmont. Powerful and wealthy. Only a fool defies my will.”

“Then I’m a fool.” That said, he rose to his feet, nodded good-bye, and left the parlor. Mettie waited in the foyer with his coat and gloves. He put them on and went through the door she opened.

Once he got into his truck and turned it on to warm the engine, he put his shaking hands on the wheel and squeezed until his heart stopped trying to leap out of his chest. He’d just told Odemina Wilson to stuff it. Let the old biddie do her worst. He had something more important to worry about. He started the truck and headed back toward town.

Toward Victoria.

INSIDE THE WILSON house, Odemina sat in her chair, staring into the distance, thinking about the past and the present. When Mettie entered, a smile playing on her lips, the old woman heaved herself out of the wingback. “Well? What’s he doing?”

“Mr. Redmont got into his truck and took off,” she asked, wrapping her arm around the fussy old woman to lead her out of the parlor. “You think he’ll go to Victoria?”

Odemina gave a rusty chuckle. “Oh now, Mettie. Only a fool defies my will.”

Chapter 6

“MIND IF WE talk?” asked a familiar male voice.

Victoria dropped the paperwork in her hand, not caring that it missed the desk and scattered onto the floor. She whirled around and cried, “Adam!”

He lounged against the doorway, his fists clenched by his side. He looked at her for a long time…so long it felt like a year passed. Then he said, “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

His apology was unexpected. Her heart tripped over in her chest. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to apologize to you. I should’ve told you who I was, even if that meant you walked away.”

“Ian told me, Victoria. I called him on my cell to tell him I was coming to see you. He said you called ProCare today to tell us you were shutting down.”

“It was the only way to—”

“To reward a foolish, prideful man?”

Oh wow. He was so tender-hearted. Stubborn, yes. But so was she. “It just makes me wild when you say things like that,” she admitted.

“I don’t want you to shut down your business just to say you’re sorry. Please, don’t do that.”

“Okay,” she said, relieved that he felt that way. She liked Hunny Do. Liked running her own business and keeping townspeople employed. She knew Adam felt the same way about ProCare. They could come to some understanding, she was sure.

“I could fall for you, Adam.”

Adam crossed the space between them and gathered her into his arms. “I do believe you already did.”

The laugh caught in her throat. In his eyes glimmered with what might one day called love. And she felt the same way. In fact, her whole self seemed to be brightened just by being near the man.

“I fell for you, too,” he said softly. “Would you like to go dinner? Maybe a movie?
Casablanca
is playing at the old theatre.”

“Don’t you think we’re past the courting stage?” She was thrilled that he wanted to spend time with her in and out of the bedroom.

“We can start wherever we want,” said Adam.

She nodded. “So, how do you want to start then?”

“With a kiss.” Then Adam lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. Torie wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him back.

SOMEWHERE NEARBY, deep in the earth, a magical red apple poisoned by hate shuddered violently. Its red glow dimmed and it was forced up, through nearly two feet of dirt. It settled once more, its pulse beating erratically, like a wounded heart.

IN HER BOARDWALK office, Aphrodite sat at her desk sipping a cup of strong tea. She felt the apple’s weakening and its shift upward, closer to the surface. Excellent. More love, more romance would force it out of its hiding place—and the people of Broken Arrow, Oregon would be free of its poisoning.

Yes, she still had work to do.

But for now… she smiled.

About Michele Bardsley

http://www.michelebardsley.com

Michele Bardsley is a national bestselling author of paranormal, romance, and mystery fiction. She also pens the #1 Amazon Best Selling alpha werewolf romance serial,
The Pack Rules
. Writing makes her happy. So does her husband (AKA the Viking) and their fur babies. She loves watching “Supernatural,” consuming chocolate, crocheting hats, reading books, and spending time with her awesome hubby.

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