At Any Price (Gaming The System) (39 page)

“And how is that working out for you? Any withdrawal symptoms yet?”

He did not look amused and I realized the inappropriateness of my joke. I looked away. “There you go again, Mia,” I said. “Putting your foot in it as usual.”

He ran a hand through his hair and looked at me. The boyish vulnerability I saw there almost ripped my heart, still beating, right out of my chest.

“I’m glad you did it,” I finally said. “And I’m glad you’re happy. And…” Deep breath, curled fists. “I’m glad you’ve found someone.”

And with that, I turned and started my run. Maybe if I caught him off guard—and while running downhill, I could get far enough ahead of him that I could avoid him for the rest of the night. I soon heard his feet behind me, hitting with regular steps that matched mine.

When we finally hit the bottom of the hill and flat land, he stopped me again. We were both breathing heavily. “Are you?”

“What?”

“Are you really glad I’ve found someone?”

Hell no.
I shrugged. There was no way I could answer that question in any way that would preserve my dignity.

“Emilia, I’m not with anyone.”

My breath stuttered. “Excuse me?”

“There hasn’t been anyone since you. I’m
not
with Lindsay.”

My head spun. “But—”

“I know it’s hard to believe because of what you saw. But I was pissed off, okay? Lindsay had come down to the complex to have lunch, but when my assistant said you were there, I was getting rid of her. I thought you’d come to talk. When I saw that package on the table, well, I wasn’t thinking straight. I did that to Lindsay to purposefully hurt you.”

My breathing hitched. “Mission accomplished, then,” I said in a falsely bright voice. But I was dizzy with the wave of relief that washed over me at that news. I almost toppled. Relief came first, then crackling anger. How many times had I replayed that scene in my mind? How many times had I pictured them together as lovers—each time sinking a knife deeper into my heart? I fought for breath, feeling close to tears again, to my utter humiliation.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, his brow creasing at my reaction.

I didn’t reply. I doubt I could have even if I’d wanted to.

“Emilia—”

And he would have reached for my arm, but I stepped away and ran all the way back to the house with him close behind. I laid it out flat—ran as fast as I could and he stayed on my heels easily.

When we stopped, I didn’t run for the door. Mia the coward would have done something like that. Instead I lingered at the front porch, glancing at the glow coming from behind the blinds in the window. It wasn’t yet dark enough for Mom to turn on the porch light so we were masked in the violet darkness of dusk.

I didn’t say anything but I didn’t move from my spot, either, still breathing heavily. In spite of the churning emotions, I liked having him here with me. It beat the hell out of that distant, empty ache. This pain was sharper, more acute, but he was
here.
Standing close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off of him in his sweat-soaked shirt.

He took a hesitant step toward me. God, I wanted him to touch me. I wanted to touch him. I turned my face to the side, unwilling to look into his intent eyes. “Hurting you wasn’t the only reason I did it,” he finally said in a hoarse voice.

Pain radiated in my chest whenever I breathed. “Oh?”

“I wanted to prove to myself—and you—that you cared.” He moved a step closer, reached up to run his thumb along my jaw and tilt my head toward him. I backed away and he followed until I came up against the pole that held up the overhang of the front porch. His face was inches from mine and my heart beat on every micrometer of my skin. “You do care, don’t you, Emilia?”

I closed my eyes and swallowed, trying to summon up every ounce of anger and annoyance I felt for this man. But his thumb—that tiny touch along my jaw, shifted to glide over my lips, making me crazy, awakening that deep hunger inside. I cared. Of course I fucking cared. I hadn’t been able to rip my mind away from him in the month we’d been apart from each other. He was the first thing I thought of every morning, the last every night and he slipped effortlessly into most waking thoughts during the moments between.

“I never said I didn’t care,” I finally said, lamely.

“You never said you did, either.”

My eyes found his, I shivered and he pulled his hand away. “I care,” I whispered.

His head closed the distance on mine and he pushed my head back with the force of the contact. Our mouths met, eagerly tasting each other. My body rose up to meet his, my hands clamping around his neck to hold him to me. With a low groan, he plunged his tongue into my mouth and together our tongues danced. Desire pervaded me, right to the deepest center. I wanted the touch of his mouth, his hands, his body. I wanted the words to go along with them. I wanted to know
he
cared.

When he reached for my waist, I pulled my head away though everything in me screamed in protest. I put my hands on his damp, hard chest. I wasn’t ready for more. Not yet. Maybe not ever. I needed time to think. Time to breathe.

He was breathing heavily again and his arousal pressed against me. I trembled. My body wanted to answer that siren’s call. Before, I’d only imagined what it could be like between us. But now, I knew exactly what kind of pleasure I could expect in his arms, his bed. It took every ounce of willpower to resist. “You only came because you felt guilty about my not taking the test,” I said.

He hesitated. “No. But it did give me the excuse.”

“Since when have you needed an excuse?”

He shook his head. “I’ve never done this before.”

My eyes held his. “I can tell.”

“Emilia—I owe you an apology for what happened at my office. It was an asshole thing to do and I knew it the minute I did it. And I am so damn sorry.”

I drew in a shivery breath. I was so confused. As usual, Hurricane Adam was stirring up this swirling force of nature around me, catching me up in high-speed winds and dangerous tidal currents. I needed to think about what he was telling me. I needed a quiet place, to be alone. I shook and his arms tightened around me when he felt it. “Good night, Adam,” I said in the quickening darkness.

He paused, then released me, stepped back with clear reluctance. “Good night,” he said in the faintest hint of a whisper.

I fumbled in through the front door on shaky legs, avoiding my mom’s inquiries about the run with a few grunts and “It went great’s.” Then I was off to curl up with a study book on my bed under a bright white reading lamp. I didn’t even pretend to study. There was no way. I immediately tossed the book to the floor and pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes, unable to get Adam’s words out of my mind.

I
did
care. It was true. And he knew damn well the truth of that. But how
much
did I care? And how much did
he
care?

What was this? Could it be…?

No.
No, it couldn’t be because I had refused to allow it. He’d hurt me. That stunt with Lindsay had gutted me and that was what scared me most of all. I’d given him the power to do it to me. Loving someone meant giving them the power to crush you—putting the tenderest, most delicate part of yourself in the palm of someone else’s hand.

I dammed the unshed tears under my lids, berating myself for the wimpy crybaby I’d become since this had all started. He had no right to come barreling in to wreak havoc on my emotions like this. Just when I thought I might be able to sort things out. Just when I’d been trying to pull things together, become a stronger person.

He appeared to be doing the same thing with his life—forcing himself to walk away from work must have been painful. It was hard for me to imagine him without his cell phone or laptop. Why had he taken that step? Had he been as affected by our time together as I had? Were these changes in response to what I’d said to him?

I shut my eyes tight, hating this chaos swirling inside me, groping to find some semblance of order. He had no right at all to do this to me. And how was I supposed to withstand the next six days with him around?

The solution, I decided, would come in being cordial but distant. Keeping him at a distance would protect me. I’d let him get too close tonight but I wouldn’t make that mistake again. I could never allow anyone to have that kind of power over me ever again.

My resolve strengthened and with a sigh, I turned off my light, rolled to my side and lay there for the next three hours, far from sleep.

Chapter Eighteen

After breakfast—during which, mercifully, we did not speak much—Adam got into his new hybrid electric car and sped off toward Anza proper, saying he wanted to explore the town.

In all honesty, I didn’t know what could possibly keep him longer than an hour or so. Anza was a small community perched on the edge of the Cahuilla Indian Reservation. Other than rugged outdoors and the Pacific Crest Trail, which bisected town, Anza had little more to offer the casual tourist. Perhaps I’d get Mom to suggest a visit to the Anza-Borrego State Park tomorrow. That would keep him out of my hair for the entire day if he set out after breakfast.

I helped Mom clean up the breakfast dishes and she had a strange smile on her face. I asked her what was up. “Mr. Drake is a really good-looking man,” she said in answer.

I shot a wary look at her. Had she seen what had happened on the porch the night before? “Yeah, I guess so.”

“You guess so? What, are you blind? He’s, what, almost thirty or so? If he were a few years older…”

Eww. Mom had the hots for Adam? That was gross. “Mom…”

“I’m just saying. If a guy like that doesn’t get your motor running, then maybe you should go back and talk to Dr. Marbrow for a few sessions, find out what’s going on with your natural urges.”

I blew out a breath of disgust. “I refuse to talk about ‘natural urges’ with you. And don’t you dare decide to go all cougar on me, please!”

She shrugged and laughed at me. Shaking my head, I left the kitchen for the stables, ready to throw myself into my work for the day.

He was gone most of the morning and did not return until after lunch. Not like I was keeping track or anything. Though, I might have glanced down the road a few thousand times while I was working with the horses in the arena.

On his way back in, at around two o’clock, he took the long way to his cabin, walking near the arena where I was lunging Tate. I had on my jeans, boots and my old hat.

He smiled and waved. “Howdy, cowgirl.”

I waved in return.

A few hours later, my mom told me that she had seen him take off on a trail and asked me to run some clean towels over to the cabin. Mom usually did this job and I really,
really
wished she would do it today. The thought of going into his cabin—of possibly being seen entering his bedroom…

So I ran over as quickly as I could with the stack, knocked on the door, waited and knocked again. When no answer was forthcoming, I used the master key with some relief, and entered.

I left the fresh towels on the counter in the bathroom while I gathered up a few of the used ones and draped them over my arm.

I collected some empty water bottles on the desk to put in the recycling, figuring I’d better take the opportunity to tidy up a little. As I grabbed one of the bottles, I inadvertently knocked over a stack of papers that fell to the floor. Cursing, I threw the towels and bottles just outside the front door and then went back inside to pick up the papers.

I gathered them and then reordered them, forcing myself not to violate his privacy by looking. Many of them were trail guides and local information, some flyers and menus from the few diners in town.

But I started when I saw the unfolded sheaf of papers with letterhead from Pohlman’s Law Office —a lawyer whose name I recognized. Not long ago, I’d looked over similar paperwork handed to me by my mother. The letterhead of my mom’s lawyer.

This was the same lawyer—one of only two in town—who had officiated the paperwork for my mom’s anonymous benefactor. The one who had invested in the ranch as a silent partner, taking a mere twenty percent of any profits accrued, if and when we ever stood to make a profit.

My hands shook. Because now I had to find out why Adam had my mom’s paperwork. But as I read on, I discovered that it wasn’t Mom’s paperwork. It was Adam’s. Because Adam was Mom’s benefactor. And at the bottom of the page, his signature said so, and the date, showing he’d signed those papers today.

My heart thumped so hard it was painful. The deal had been initiated before the auction. Weeks before we’d ever met in person. I felt like the coyote in that old cartoon who’d had the floor sawed out from under him. He stood there waiting—waiting for the fall. And the room spun from my disorientation and my hands shook.

I dropped the paperwork onto the desk and scurried out of that room as fast as I possibly could, stooping to pick up the towels and bottles. But I wasn’t fast enough because Adam stepped onto the porch at that moment and I jumped so hard I dropped everything. Towels went flying and bottles went bouncing.

“Here, let me get those,” he said.

“No!” I shrieked, still shaking. “No. I’ve got it.” And I bustled around like a freak trying to pick up every last thing while he watched me with the most obvious puzzlement I’d ever seen on his face.

“Emilia, what’s wrong?”

“Mia—” My mom showed up right behind me. “I’ll get the towels.” And with a huff of frustration, and still shaking as if it was forty below outside instead of a toasty ninety-five, I shoved them into my mom’s arms and walked away.

“I gotta…I need to be alone for a while,” I gasped and then headed out toward the front of the house. What I really wanted to do was get in my car and screech the hell out of the driveway, but I wasn’t about to stop everything, go inside and start searching for my car keys. So I set foot to the highway instead.

I walked for about ten minutes before I noticed a long shadow moving up behind me. The way it moved, the way it gained on me even when I stepped up my pace, I knew exactly who it was.