Secrets of the Tycoon's Bride (3 page)

She scanned Adam's face, noting the dusky color on his cheekbones and the way he breathed through slightly parted lips.

Adam Garrison attracted to
her?
Impossible. She'd seen his usual bimbos and she didn't even come close to the models and starlets he dated, especially the way she dressed these days.

“You're my boss. Office relationships always turn out badly—usually for the employee.”

“They don't have to. Besides, you won't be working for me after the wedding,” he enunciated very clearly and a tad too loud. Before she could figure out why he'd spoken that way a woman jerked to a halt behind him.

“Adam?” The lady could have been anywhere from fifty to a well-preserved seventy, but it was impossible to gauge by her tightly stretched skin.

Adam looked up and hesitated just the right amount of time before releasing Lauryn's hand and standing. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Ainsley. This is Lauryn Lowes. Lauryn, Helene Ainsley. She's on the board of practically every charitable foundation in Miami.”

Helene Ainsley. The same woman who'd refused to come to the door when Lauryn had knocked and asked the maid who answered for a moment of her mistress's time. The Ainsley estate was four doors down from the Laurence property, and even though Mrs. Ainsley was older, she or her children had probably known Adrianna Laurence.

“It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Ainsley.” It would have been nicer ten months ago.

The woman looked from Adam to Lauryn through her nipped and tucked eyes. “Do we have news?”

Lauryn tensed and held her breath.

Adam sent a lingering look her way and then smiled tenderly before replying without breaking eye contact, “No news.”

Good grief, the man should be an actor. His tone, expression and body language spoke the opposite more eloquently than words.

“I could have sworn I heard you say ‘wedding.'”

Adam returned his attention to Mrs. Ainsley. “You could have. There have been a few weddings in the Garrison family lately. And of course, my sister Brittany is engaged.”

But Mrs. Ainsley didn't believe him. Lauryn could see the curiosity in the woman's overstretched face. How smart of Adam to plant the seed—just in case he convinced Lauryn to say yes. Not that he would.

The woman's searching gaze focused on Lauryn. “Have we met, dear? You look familiar.”

Lauryn's heart skipped a beat. Did she take after her mother? The only photos she'd found of Adrianna had been blurry black-and-white newspaper shots that made identifying specific features difficult, but Lauryn had inherited her father's coloring. Her mother had been a brunette. “No, ma'am.”

“Are you quite sure? I never forget a face.”

She yearned to blurt out the truth, but the consequences of handling this badly were too great. “I'm sure. I haven't met many people because I haven't lived in the area very long.”

“Then we should remedy that. We're having a few friends over on Saturday. Perhaps you and Adam will join us for couples' tennis?”

The invitation stole Lauryn's breath.

Doors will open,
Adam had said. Lauryn hadn't considered that those open doors would offer an opportunity to join her birthmother's social circle.

If she married Adam Garrison she'd be one of the Miami elite and closer to getting her answers than ever before. The idea tempted her more than it should.

“Lauryn?” he asked.

“I, um…I'm sorry. I don't play tennis.” She'd been too busy being a rebellious teen to learn. Just one more reason to regret her misspent youth.

Helene turned back to Adam. “Then perhaps you'll bring Lauryn to cocktails on Monday evening. The club is closed then, isn't it?”

“We'd like that,” Adam accepted without consulting Lauryn. But she didn't care about his high-handedness. He was going to get her into a house her mother had probably visited and introduce her to people her mother had probably known. While they were on the island maybe she could convince him to show her his place and she could walk her mother's path.

“Lovely. See you at eight.” Mrs. Ainsley glided off with the grace of the queen.

Adam sat quickly, followed by the arrival of their meal. After the waiter departed Lauryn looked at her companion. “You're very sneaky.”

A mischievous smile slanted his lips, making him look like a bad boy inviting her to come out and play. The dormant rebel in Lauryn raised its head, but she quickly reined in her naughty urges. She'd given up her penchant for bad boys.

“I know what I want and I'm not ashamed to go after it. Helene is one of the biggest gossips in the Greater Miami area. By the time we announce our engagement it will be old news.”

She gaped at him. “Need I remind you that I turned you down?”

“You'll change your mind.” He lifted his wineglass in a silent toast. His eyes held a challenge. “Or I'll change it for you. We'll be good together, Lauryn. In bed and out.”

Tendrils of desire wound through her. And that, Lauryn realized, was the crux of her dilemma. The answers she wanted were right at her fingertips, but only if she broke the promise she'd made to her father and herself before the ink on her annulment had dried.

Next time, she'd vowed, she'd marry for all the right reasons.

And the business alliance Adam proposed didn't even come close.

He almost had her.

Adam didn't know why the idea of drinks with the Ainsleys' stuffy crowd excited Lauryn, but he'd seen the flash of interest in her eyes and the heightened color on her cheeks earlier at lunch.

He rinsed the last of the shaving cream from his face, patted dry and then padded naked into his bedroom to dress for a Friday night at the club. He fed off the pulse of the music, the flash of the lights and the energy of Estate's guests. Knowing he provided a good time for hundreds of people each night and was financially rewarded for doing so filled him with satisfaction.

Work. He lived for it. Why couldn't his family—specifically his brothers—see that? But they viewed his life as one big party and treated him like a perpetual frat boy.

He made it halfway across the room before the mental image of Lauryn in his bed stalled his steps. Hell, he couldn't be attracted to her, could he? Before Brandon's suggestion, Adam had never had a sexual thought about his accountant. Or any employee, for that matter.

Lauryn had done nothing to light his fire. She was cool and withdrawn. She didn't flirt. Even though he'd spent an hour with her today, he didn't know any more about her than he had before lunch except that the smiles he used to make other women melt didn't affect Lauryn Lowes.

But he had to admit something happened when he touched her to quicken his pulse and heat his blood. Was his interest piqued solely because she'd said no?

Shaking his head to clear the image of her pale skin spread across his black sheets, he headed for his closet. Any anticipation he might feel for seeing her again could be attributed to moving closer toward his goal. The marriage would be strictly business. Not pleasure. Although he was beginning to suspect Lauryn had a good body beneath her shapeless clothing and that he could derive a great deal of pleasure from exploring it.

All right, so he wanted to see her naked, but that was only because he was curious to know what she was hiding and why.

And if she wanted to dip her toes in Miami Beach society, he'd lead her to the water even though he usually avoided such events like he'd avoid swimming through a school of jellyfish. You never knew when you might get stung.

Drinks at the Ainsleys' could include anywhere from a half-dozen to a hundred guests. Adam hoped like hell his mother wouldn't be there drinking herself into oblivion. Lauryn would get a dose of Bonita Garrison soon enough.

After the wedding he and Lauryn would have to attend some of the Sunday family dinners, but until then he didn't dare risk letting his mother's increasingly bitter barbs scare off Lauryn because he didn't have the time or inclination to search out another wife candidate. The nominating committee had already begun their search.

Guilt nagged at Adam as he dragged on a silk shirt. Finding out her husband of thirty-eight years had a twenty-seven-year-old illegitimate daughter from a long-term and on-going affair couldn't have been easy for his mother. But that was no excuse for pickling her liver by living in a bottle of booze. His mother's drinking had been a problem for as long as Adam could remember, and with it came the lies and excuses to cover the things she'd done or forgotten to do. But the situation had worsened since the reading of the will and the open acknowledgment of Cassie, his father's illegitimate daughter by his Bahamian lover.

Adam made a note to hire a full-time driver for his mother. He couldn't risk letting her get behind the wheel of a car. And he needed to talk to his siblings about drying her out before she killed herself.

He stepped into his trousers and pulled them over his bare butt. He hadn't known about his halfsister, Cassie, but he had known about his father's affair for years. Should he have told his mother? Or had she already known? Was that why she drank?

Five years ago during a trip to the Bahamas, Adam had stumbled upon his father and Cassie's mother in an intimate clench. He'd tried to force his father to end the affair and failed. The confrontation had been ugly. Later that same year his father had turned over the running of Garrison, Inc. to Parker and the hotel operations to Stephen. Adam had received nothing. Nada.

And now it was too late to make things right with his father.

He tamped down the loss and frustration tightening his chest and finished dressing, then grabbed his keys and cell phone and jogged down the stairs. He couldn't go backward. He could only move forward.

For his plan to work he needed absolute secrecy. Only Brandon knew the whole truth behind Adam's proposal. And even though his best friend was crazy in love with Adam's newly discovered half sister, Adam knew he could count on Brandon to keep his lips zipped. Not just because of client confidentiality, but because Brandon was that kind of guy—as honest and loyal as a summer day is long.

In the meantime, Adam would keep Lauryn away from his family until the contracts were signed and the wedding knot was tightly tied—and he had no doubt it would be tied. If Lauryn slipped up and revealed his strategy to his siblings he wouldn't have a chance in hell of gaining more involvement in Garrison, Inc.

But first he had to get through Monday evening. A night at the Ainsleys' wouldn't be pleasant, but neither would it be a total waste of time. With Lauryn on his arm he'd schmooze with the movers and shakers of the community who could aid in his quest for the council nomination.

A win-win situation.

He'd score points with Lauryn and for himself.

And he'd do what he did best.

He'd turn on the charm and land himself a bride.

Y
et another dead end.

Lauryn tried to keep her steps from dragging as she followed Adam into the moist evening air and across the brick courtyard toward his car. She'd pinned her hopes on walking in her birthmother's footsteps tonight. But Adrianna Laurence had never set foot in the Ainsleys' house. At least, not this one.

Lauryn's disappointment was almost enough to distract her from the feel of Adam's hand wrapped around hers. Hot. Firm. Electric.

He'd been attentive all evening with a casual touch at her waist here, a brush of his hand against hers there. It hadn't taken her long to realize his every move had been designed to convince the other guests they were a couple. And yet he hadn't said one dishonest word or made a single inappropriate gesture to which she could object.

Much as she disliked the situation, she had to face facts. Being a pawn in Adam's scheme had its benefits. She'd been the only outsider at the gathering tonight, but because she was Adam's date she'd been welcomed into her birthmother's stratum by the same people who'd refused to speak to her a few months ago. People who had very likely known her birthmother.

With a little Garrison grease to oil the hinges she'd made more progress tonight in two hours of chitchat than she had in weeks of knocking on doors and researching microfiche newspaper articles and county documents. She didn't have her answers yet because it was too soon to ask without risking rejection, but as long as she was beside Adam she could build the tentative connections to find out what she wanted so desperately to know.

Adam opened the car door, but Lauryn didn't climb in. She pivoted in her flat sandals and studied the ostentatious home. Lights streamed from every window, painting stripes across the dark grounds. “You're telling me the Ainsleys demolished a perfectly good house and built a new one in the same spot?”

“Five years ago.”

“But why?” She turned back to Adam and realized he'd moved close enough to loom above her—far too close for her peace of mind. The tang of his cologne, a crisp lime scent, teased her senses, and she could see the fine lines at the corners of his eyes. Her body still hummed from his unexpected touches throughout the evening and his proximity overwhelmed her.

One small step and they'd be breast-to-chest, hip-to-hip. Her gaze drifted to his lips. With all the practice he'd had, she'd bet he was a great kisser. If he bent his head—

No kisses. Back up.

But she couldn't. Trapped as she was between the car and Adam's lean frame, there was nowhere to run. She forced her eyes away from his mouth and dragged a lungful of the heavily scented night air into her chest, but she couldn't identify the flowers she smelled.

Had her mother known the names? Had Adrianna been a plant lover? A swimmer? A shopaholic? A night owl or morning person? Tall, short, introvert or extrovert? Had she been a rule follower or a rule breaker? Knowing nothing frustrated Lauryn and left her feeling empty. Adrift.

Adam shrugged. “With the shortage of land and surplus of cash in South Florida it's a common practice to tear down and start fresh. Sometimes massive reconstruction is due to hurricane damage, but in this case Helene wanted renovations that exceeded the value of the house.”

Alarm streaked through her. “Your house hasn't been razed has it?”

His eyes narrowed as if he could hear the panic she couldn't quite keep out of her voice. “No. It's the original structure. Why?”

Get a grip, Lauryn.
She forced a smile. “I…um, love history. I hate to see it erased. We're close to your place, aren't we? Would you show it to me?”

He hesitated so long she thought he'd refuse. “Sure. There's no one staying there this week.”

She slid into the car with so much anticipation and excitement bubbling through her veins that she could barely sit still.

Adam drove off the Ainsley property, down the palm-shadowed street and then pulled into a short driveway blocked by another set of elaborately coiled iron gates and stopped the car. He tapped a security code onto a recessed keypad and the wide gates silently glided open.

Emotion clogged Lauryn's throat as the car rolled into a circular brick courtyard and around the center fountain. Sensor lights flicked on, flooding the area with light. Scrambling to absorb it all at once, she ticked off details in her mind. Mediterranean style. Four-car garage to the left. Arched windows. Carved columns. Deep, shadowed porches.

Her birthmother's home. Lauryn's heart thumped as hard and fast as a helicopter's blades as she climbed from the car on trembling legs. She wished she could see the house in daylight instead of washed by a weak crescent moon. She wanted to examine every minute detail of the elaborately carved cornices above the windows and doors and under the gables and eaves.

“It's beautiful,” she whispered.

“Like I said, it's a good investment. By the time I unload it, the property will have doubled in value.”

Panic burst in her veins. He couldn't sell. Not yet. “You're going to sell it?”

“When the market and price are right.”

She wiped her dampening palms on her simple black sheath and followed Adam onto the front porch, tangling and untangling her fingers while he unlocked the door.

How many times had her birthmother crossed this threshold?

He entered, hit a light switch and then punched a sequence on an alarm system concealed by a small mirror. He gestured for her to join him, but she couldn't move. A weird form of near-paralysis locked her muscles. She was so close to uncovering the truth. So close to the diaries and answers.

If they were here.

But what if she didn't like what she learned? What if her mother wasn't a nice person? What if her mother had died of some hideously debilitating and hereditary disease? And what if Lauryn possessed some flaw that made her unlovable?

Her father and Susan had loved her hadn't they? Maybe. Her parents had lied about so much that Lauryn didn't trust herself to recognize the truth anymore.

“Lauryn?” Adam's expression asked why she delayed.

She scrambled for a response. “This luxury is about as far as you can get from the military housing I grew up in.”

“Didn't seem to bother you at the Ainsleys'.”

“I guess I was too nervous about meeting all those people to be overwhelmed by the house. I, um…don't get out much.” Not anymore.

She forced her feet forward and found herself in a soaring circular two-story domed foyer. She slowly turned around in the center of the Mariner's Compass pattern inlaid into the marble floor like a glossy stone quilt, and then crossed to the wide staircase sweeping up and around the foyer to the second floor.

Had her mother crept up and down these stairs, avoiding the squeaky treads in the middle of the night? If marble treads creaked, that is.

Had the wild streak that had landed Lauryn in so much trouble as a teen come from Adrianna Laurence? Lauryn certainly hadn't inherited it from her father, a regimented career military man, or learned it from her adoptive mother, a serene saint of a woman who never raised her voice or her hand no matter how obnoxious Lauryn had been.

“Want the ten-dollar tour?” Adam's voice intruded.

She blinked. “I thought that was a ten-cent tour.”

“Inflation,” Adam replied straight-faced. “If you don't have cash, I'll accept a more creative payment.”

His gaze dropped to Lauryn's lips and her mouth dried. She cleared her throat and looked away. “I'd love a tour.”

She had to get into this house without him dogging her footsteps. Maybe she could convince him to give her a key to drop stuff off for the VIPs and steal a few minutes to explore. “How many bedrooms?”

“Six bedrooms, seven and a half baths, plus servants' apartments over the garage.”

Six!
It would take hours or days to search each closet for loose floorboards and that was assuming the closets were empty and she wouldn't have to shift stuff out of the way first.

“This is definitely the kind of house to raise a family in.” Her mother had grown up here, an only child, and according to what little Lauryn had uncovered, had moved back home after one semester at Vassar. Had Adrianna taken the diaries to college with her? Had she brought them home?

“Come on.” He turned and headed through an archway.

Lauryn hustled after him. “Did you make many changes after you bought the estate?”

He strode past a stream of rooms, flipping light switches as he went. “Other than updating the electrical wiring, no. The previous owners kept the place well-maintained. I even bought some of the furniture in the estate sale.”

Lauryn stumbled. She barely caught a glimpse of the book-lined library, home theater, massive kitchen, two-story living room and beamed-ceiling den as she hustled to keep up with Adam. The grandeur of the house blew her mind. She wanted to beg him to slow down, to let her soak up the details like a sponge, to ask which pieces of furniture had been the Laurences'.

Had her mother sat on that sofa or at that writing desk? But asking would require explanations. And explanations could lead to rejection. It was too soon to launch her appeal.

He didn't stop until he reached a circular sunroom jutting from the back of the house like a peninsula. Three of her tiny apartments would fit in this room alone.

To her right a wall of windows overlooked an expansive pool and patio illuminated by subtle landscape lighting. The left side revealed tennis courts, and beyond the seawall at the back of the property stretched a private dock with a long, low and fast-looking boat floating in the channel.

With one sweep of his hand Adam extinguished the interior and exterior lights and the outside view vanished. Pale moonlight cast the sunroom in a mysterious combination of shadows and wavering silvery light.

“Ready to go?”

No! Not yet. “You're not going to show me the upstairs?”

He closed the distance between them in two lazy strides, lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. Surprise held her motionless. Shadows sharpened the angles of his face. His thumb brushed over her lips. Desire sparked instantly in her veins and judging by the sudden widening of Adam's pupils and the flare of his nostrils he felt something, too. The air suddenly turned hot, humid and heavy.

“If you want to get me into a bedroom, you're going to have to accept my proposal and sign the agreements first.”

Her thoughts screeched to a halt. She could not let herself fall for Adam Garrison. She'd given up bad boys and shallow relationships a long time ago. And while Adam wore designer clothing instead of torn jeans, he was still a heartbreaker through and through.

Been there. Done that.

Tempting, but taboo.

But she had to have access to this house. She'd lost her father and her own identity eleven months ago and possibly shattered her relationship with her mother beyond repair. If she had any chance of getting her life back on an even keel then she had to figure out who she was—who she
really
was—not the fairy tale her parents had concocted.

There was only one way.

A chill raced through her. She spun away from Adam, wrapped her arms around herself and picked her way through the mottled shadows to stand by the window and stare out at the lights winking across the darkness from the houses on the island across the channel.

“I'll do it,” she said in a rush with her gaze focused on the rocking boat instead of the man behind her.

Light filled the room once again. “Do what?”

She slowly turned and met Adam's direct gaze. “I'll marry you. But only if we live here.”

“I have a condo within walking distance of the club.”

“Have you ever considered you might appear more settled if you lived in a house instead of a bachelor pad?”

He dipped his head. “Good point.”

“I won't give up my job.”

“Lauryn, you won't need to work.”

“But I want to.” She took a slow breath and then blurted, “And I won't sleep with you.”

“You'll have your own room.”

“No, Adam, I mean no sex. You might be able to be intimate with someone you don't love, but I can't.” Not anymore. She remembered all too well the self-loathing afterward. She'd wanted to hurt her father with her brazen behavior, but she'd only ended up hurting and hating herself.

“I'll get tested if that's what you're worried about.”

“That has nothing to do with it. I mean, it is important given the legions you're rumored to have bedded, but—”

“Legions?”

“You're not known for your discriminatory tastes.”

“There haven't been legions.”

“How many then?”

“None of your business.”