Lisa Jackson's the Abandoned Box Set (24 page)

At her apartment, he took the steps two at a time, rang the bell and scooped her into his arms when she opened the door. She let out a startled squeal as he twirled her back across the threshold and into her living room.

“Miss me?” she asked, her blue eyes laughing.

“Just a little.” He kissed her eyes, her throat, her neck… and she giggled like a delighted child. The scent of her was everywhere, and he buried his face in her hair and breathed deeply.

“I missed you, too,” she said, caressing his cheeks before she kissed him on the lips.

He couldn't stop. So sensual yet innocent, Marnie unwittingly created a fever in him that raged through his blood, licking like fire to heat his loins and drive all thoughts—save the primal need to make love—from his mind. He kicked the door shut with one foot and carried her straight into the bedroom, then fell with her onto the bed.

“But I have dinner ready—”

“It'll wait.” Her skin was warm to his touch, her smell intoxicating.

“So can we.”

“Speak for yourself,” he said, working on the buttons of her blouse as his lips and tongue touched the soft shell of her ear. She responded by moaning his name.

“Adam, oh, Adam…” Her eyes glazed over, but she smiled and said, “You're incorrigible, you know.”

“Probably.” Her blouse parted.

“And totally without scruples. Oh!”

“Mmm.” He pressed hot, wet lips against the hollow between her breasts and felt the fluttering beat of her heart. “Not even one lousy scruple?”

“None,” she said, her voice breathy, a thin sheen of perspiration beginning to glow against her skin as he shoved the silky fabric of her blouse over her shoulder.

“Ah, what a lonely, unscrupulous life I lead,” he said, his breath whispering across her bare skin as he unclasped her bra and her breasts spilled forward, dusty pink nipples stiffening in the shadowy light.

He sucked in his breath, willing himself to take it slow, while the fire in his loins demanded release. All he wanted to do was thrust deep into her and get lost in the warmth of her body. She moved against him, rocking slightly, reaching up and linking her fingers behind his head, only to draw him downward so that his open mouth surrounded her waiting nipple.

He took that precious bud in his mouth and suckled, hard and long, drawing on her breast as she writhed against him. His fire had spread to her and she held him tight, breathing in shallow gasps, her skin slick with sweat.

She wanted him as much as he wanted her, and he wasted no time ripping off his clothes and ridding her of her jeans and panties. When at last he was over her, poised for entry, he hesitated only slightly, staring at her fair hair, feathered around her face like an angel's halo, her innocent blue eyes staring up at him with infinite trust and hunger, her lips parted in desire.

At that precarious moment he hated himself. For what he'd done to her, for what he'd done to himself, for that frightening and overpowering need to claim her in a way as primitive as the very earth itself.

Yet he couldn't stop himself. In that heartbeat when he
should have told her that they would never have a future together, that their lives would soon part forever, he squeezed his eyes shut against her beauty, swore silently at himself, then plunged deep into the moist warmth and comfort that she so willingly offered.

* * *

S
OMETHING HAD CHANGED
. Marnie felt it. Ever since Adam had returned, he'd seemed different—desperate, but she didn't understand why. They'd made love, and there'd been a savagery to their lovemaking that bordered on despair. As if Adam felt they would never make love again.

“I cleaned out the boat,” she said, once they were seated at the small table in her kitchen.

He looked at her, his brows raised.

“All Kent's things. I'm taking them with me to work on Monday.” She took a bite of chicken-and-pasta salad. “He must really want them. He's been hanging around the docks trying to get on board the
Marnie Lee.
”

“What was on board?” Adam asked. He'd eaten half his salad and was drinking from a long-necked bottle of beer.

“Nothing special. Just the usual male paraphernalia. You must've seen most of it when you were rooting around the boat looking for supplies.” Memories of the storm and rain running down the windowpanes as they'd made love in Deception Lodge floated through her mind. She swished her wine in her glass and studied the clear liquid. “But I don't think he wanted his things. There wasn't anything that valuable on board, though I couldn't get into the safe—he changed the combination.” At that, Adam's head jerked up. “I don't think there's anything really important in there, it's too risky. Remember I had keys to the boat. Oh, and he left his laptop computer—or one of them. I think he has a couple. But I checked it out. Nothing.”

Adam scowled in frustration, and Marnie rambled on.
“I think Kent really wanted back on the boat to steal it from me. You know, tit-for-tat, since I took the boat from him. Fortunately Ed, the caretaker, caught him and threw him out.”

“Why would Kent steal the boat?” Adam asked, his gaze keen as he took a long swallow of his beer.

“To get back at me.” She explained about Kent's feeling of ownership for the
Marnie Lee.

Eyeing her pensively, he finally asked, “What happened between you two?”

Marnie swallowed hard, then set her fork carefully on her plate. This, she felt, was a moment of truth. Could she trust her secret with Adam, the man who had so callously used her once before, a man with whom she knew she was falling in love? She cleared her throat, wondering if she had the courage to tell him the entire embarrassing story and deciding that he deserved the truth. Whether he admitted it or not, they
were
involved in a relationship. “Kent cheated on me,” she finally admitted, struggling with the damning words. Though Kent meant nothing to her anymore, her pride was still damaged. “Not just once, not just a fling, but he had an affair with his secretary for the entire duration of our engagement.”

“His secretary?”

“Dolores Tate,” she said, then felt foolish, like a common gossip. “It doesn't matter, and I guess he did me a favor.”

Adam rotated his near empty bottle in his hands. “You loved him?”

Shrugging, she avoided his eyes and stared out the window near the table. Outside, a robin flew into the lacy branches of a willow tree. “I thought I did at the time.” She played with her fork. “But I think I was just caught up in the excitement of it all. Dad was so thrilled and the whole office congratulated us.”

“Except Dolores?”

“She and I were never close.” Clearing her throat, she looked up at him. “What about you? Any near brushes with the altar?”

“Nope.”

“That's hard to believe.”

It was his turn to glance away. “Any time a woman got too pushy and started talking about settling down, I always found an excuse to end it.”

“Why?”

“I just never saw any reason for it.”

“No family pressure to get married and father grandchildren?”

“No family.”

She bit her lip as she had a sudden insight into the man. She'd never heard him talk about his life, and thought he'd just been a private person, never thinking that his childhood might have been painful.

“Can't remember my folks. My mother never told anyone who my father was, and she left when I was three. Never heard from her again. I was raised by Aunt Freda—really my mother's aunt. She died a couple of years back.” He drained his beer, concluding the conversation.

Marnie swallowed hard. For the first time she understood some of the anger and pain she'd felt in Adam. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. It's all ancient history.”

“Didn't you ever want to find your parents?” she asked.

“Never!” His face grew hard, and his eyes narrowed in barely repressed fury. “I never want to see the face of a woman who could walk away from her child.”

“Maybe she couldn't afford—”

“What she couldn't afford was an illegal abortion.”

She swallowed hard. “You don't know…” Her voice trailed off.

“I do know. And I guess you couldn't blame her. She had nothing but a mistake in her gut. But that's not why I don't want to find her.”

Tears burned the backs of Marnie's eyes, and her throat clogged, but Adam, staring intently at his hands, didn't seem to notice. “When I was three, she left with a sailor. A man she'd known two and a half days. Took off for L.A., and neither Freda nor I ever heard from her again. That's why she's as good as dead to me.”

Oh, God. She wanted to reach forward, to place her hand on his, instead she asked softly, “But what about your grandparents?”

“Never met 'em. They were older—my grandfather fifty-five, my grandmother forty at the time my mother was born. According to Freda, they never really understood my mother and disowned her when she turned up pregnant and unmarried at seventeen. Believe it or not, my grandfather was a minister. He couldn't accept that his daughter ended up a sinner.” His voice was bitter and distant, as if it took all his willpower to speak at all. “And I was a part of that sin. Proof that his daughter had fallen. They never even saw me. Freda was the only decent relative in the whole family tree. And she's gone now, so, no, I have no family.”

“Does it bother you?” she whispered.

“I don't let it.” Scraping his chair back, he carried his plate to the sink. “I don't even know why I told you all this,” he said, frowning darkly and hooking his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans.

Marnie crossed the kitchen, wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled up at him through her tears. “I wish I could say something, anything, that would change things.”

“No reason to,” he said harshly, but didn't push her away. In fact, his hands moved from his pockets to surround her and hold her close. Marnie held back the sobs
that burned deep inside for the little abandoned boy who'd never known a mother's love.

If only he would let her close to him, let her take away some of the pain. She listened to the steady beat of his heart and she knew that she loved him, would always love him, no matter what.

“Marnie,” he whispered hoarsely into her hair as the first tears trickled from the corners of her eyes. “Oh, Marnie…Marnie…Marnie.” His voice sounded desperate, and Marnie clung to him as he swept her off her feet and carried her to the bedroom.

“Y
OU HAD THE NERVE
to remove my things from the boat?” Kent accused, his voice cracking and his face turning white beneath his tan. He grabbed her arm and propelled her down a corridor.

“Let go of me.” Marnie jerked back her arm and glared at him. “I'm sick of you manhandling me. Don't ever touch me again! Got it?” When he didn't respond, she added, “I just thought you'd want to know about your things.”

“But you had no right—”

“It's all in my car,” she cut in, disregarding his protests of injustice. “I'd be glad to transfer them to yours, if you give me the keys.”

“You want the keys to the Mercedes? Are you out of your mind? Do you know what it's worth? You think I'd trust you with it after that stunt with the boat?” He was nearly apoplectic.

Marnie didn't care. “Do you want your stuff or not?”

“Of course!”

“Then let's transfer it now.”

Kent checked his Rolex. “I have a meeting in seventeen minutes.”

“It won't take long.” He hesitated while Marnie walked to the elevator and pushed the button. “No problem. I'll leave it on your hood.”

“What the hell's gotten into you?” he growled, but followed her to the bank of elevators, straightening the cuffs of his jacket and tie. “You used to be sane.”

“When I was engaged to you?” She almost laughed. Most of the pain had faded with time. And the fact that now she knew what a real relationship between a man and a woman could be, she hardly believed that she had once considered herself in love with Kent. “Let's not talk about it. All right? In fact, let's not talk about anything.” She considered the last time she'd been trapped in an elevator alone with Kent, but she wasn't worried. She could handle herself.

The doors to the elevator opened, and she stepped inside, joining Todd Byers, the hotel-services manager and two men from the sales team. She smiled at the other occupants, and Kent made a failed attempt to hide the fact that he was vastly perturbed with her and the entire situation.

Marnie, on the other hand, talked and chatted with Todd, laughed with the men from sales, and was still chuckling when she and Kent landed in the first subbasement, where the executives parked their cars.

The luster of Kent's black sports car gleamed under the overhead lights, in sharp contrast to her used Ford. She didn't care. Unlocking the trunk, she motioned to the three stacked boxes. “Didn't you miss any of this stuff?”

She thought he blanched and swallowed hard, but she only caught a glimpse of his profile as he unlocked his car. “Some of it,” he said, lifting one of the flaps and peering inside the largest carton. “You found my computer?”

“Right where you left it—humming and clicking and spinning out information left and right,” she said, unable to stop from baiting him.

“What?” he asked, horrified. “But it has an automatic shutoff…” He stopped short, finally realizing that she was joking with him.

“Relax, Kent. Your computer and all you other precious belongings are safe.”

“You brought them straight from the boat?”

“After a short layover at my apartment.”

“Oh.” He yanked at his tie as he carried the first box to his car. It was too large to stuff in his trunk, so he had to place it behind the front seat. “Did, uh, did anyone else see any of this?”