Chosen: Part Six (Allure Book 6) Page 8

  Slowly, he took a breath. I watched the struggle going on in him, wondering which side would win--the man of the twenty-first century who wore the veneer of civilization like a second skin or the medieval warlord who thought nothing of keeping a woman imprisoned in a tower for his pleasure?

  Only belatedly did it occur to me that in Adam’s case those men were one and the same.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The curved metal legs of his chair grated against the stone veranda as Adam pushed it back and stood. At once, instinct drove me to deny him any more advantage than he already had. I started to stand as well only to stop when he turned his back and walked away from me across the broad veranda. His hands curled into fists at his sides, the muscles flexing across his broad shoulders.

  At first, I thought that he’d been so angered by what I had said that he was going to leave me sitting there without a word. When I realized that he simply needed to pace, I exhaled slowly. Clearly, this was an even more difficult struggle for him than I had anticipated. One with an outcome as yet far from decided.

  Seated again, I willed myself to calm as I watched him. His tall, powerful body moved with supple grace between the bars of light and shadow that filtered through the surrounding foliage. He looked like a hunter on the verge of taking down his prey or a warrior moving relentlessly into battle. However fraught the moment, I couldn’t help but savor the sight of him.

  He halted, turned and retraced his steps, his hands now gripped behind him. His gaze, fierce and devouring, locked on me. A servant emerged from the house, took one glance at Adam and withdrew hastily. Smart man.

  I didn’t have to sit there. I could get up, go inside, pack, make arrangements to get myself to New York. It wasn’t as though I needed his permission. We’d come too far for that. Or so I hoped.

  All the same, life would be so very, very much easier if Adam accepted what I had to do.

  Otherwise… I didn’t actually think he would lock me up in a tower again, much less chain me to a bed. Unless I wanted him to--

  My cheeks flushed. I shifted uncomfortably in the chair, embarrassed by my wayward thoughts. The excesses of the previous night and more recently had left me hungrier for him than ever. I couldn’t succumb to that. No matter what it cost me, I had to stay focused on what awaited me in New York.

  The silence dragged out between us until finally he said, “If you do what you’ve just described, you’ll be putting yourself at enormous risk. To what end? How do you see this resolving?”

  Relief flowed through me. Those were valid questions and even if I wasn’t sure that I had any answers, at least he seemed open to a discussion.

  Encouraged, I said, “I’m not naïve. I know that the chances of bringing any Delaney into a court of law are virtually non-existent. Even if that did happen somehow, the most skillful lawyers and trial consultants in the world would be there to handpick and manipulate the jury. No prosecutor would ever get a conviction.”

  “Then what do you hope to achieve?” His voice was harsh but a hint of gentleness crept into it as he added, “Personal vengeance hardly seems your style.”

  It wasn’t, any more than it was his, however much he might let the world think otherwise. He’d done what he had regarding Ned in order to give Rolf and his sister some degree of closure. But he had also acted to prevent yet more wanton cruelty from a man who had never absorbed the most fundamental notions of decency and responsibility. He’d ended Sebastian’s life at least partly for the same reason.

  That being the case, I had to hope that he would understand what drove me.

  Looking up at him, I said, “It has to stop, all of it. Grandmother, the foundation, the members of the family who do her bidding, it all has to stop. Nothing can make up for what we’ve done but at least people who would have been harmed in the future can be spared.”

  He was silent for a moment before his hands closed on my shoulders. Gently, he drew me up to stand before him. The back of his knuckles brushed my cheek with consummate tenderness.

  His voice was a low, rough burr as he said, “What we’ve done, Grace? You aren’t responsible in any way for the actions of your family. Just the opposite; you’re as far removed from them as it’s possible to be.”

  My eyes burned. I desperately wanted to believe him but I couldn’t deny the truth to myself or him. While some members of my family were decent human beings, the fact remained that none of us was free of the taint of what had been done in our name.

  Softly, I said, “All my life, I’ve had the benefits of being a Delaney. I’ve never known financial or material want. Opportunities have fallen at my feet, whether I deserved them or not. I can’t pretend for a moment that I haven’t been extraordinarily privileged. Now it’s time to pay the price.”

  “Noblesse oblige?” he asked with a slight twist of his mouth, at once ironic and wary. Adam, more than almost anyone else, knew the burden of being born to duty and responsibility. From everything I had gleaned about his upbringing, he’d never had any other choice.

  “Obligation, certainly,” I said. “But I don’t have any illusions about nobility. In fact, I suspect that my family was far more ‘noble’ when we were still scrambling our way out of the peat bogs.”

  He didn’t disagree but he did let go of me and take a few steps back before he said, “All the same, you feel compelled to act.”

  Bereft of his touch, I shivered. The sun had gone behind a cloud; the early fall air felt suddenly chill.

  “If I don’t, who will? No outsider can get as close as I can.”

  Adam look disposed to argue the point but instead he shifted gears, catching me off guard. “If you’re really serious about this, why aren’t you asking for my help?”

  The temptation to do exactly that grew with every breath I took. But I had been wrestling with it from the moment Will told me what he had learned. Somewhere between the beach on Malta and the secluded farmhouse in Provence--in passion and in blood, in ecstasy and in terror, in shared glances, quick smiles, and in tears--I had come to trust Adam implicitly.

  And to care desperately about what happened to him.

  “I can’t,” I said. “It’s too dangerous.”

  Before he could respond, I hurried on. “Grandmother already associates me with Ned’s death. She hasn’t done anything about that because right now all the evidence says that I was an innocent victim. But she’s intensely suspicious, even paranoid. If I slip up and she realizes what I’m trying to do, she’ll see me in an entirely different light. Anyone who could possibly be helping me will be at risk. If she uncovered the link from Ned to Rolf and from there to you--”

  I broke off, unable to go any further. The last thing I wanted to do was give him more reason to stop me from returning to New York. But I couldn’t minimize the danger he faced if Grandmother ever discovered who was behind my kidnapping and everything that had followed. The ramifications of that were too terrifying to contemplate. Her revenge would at the very least equal Sebastian’s insane brutality. In the darkest depths of my soul, I feared that she was capable of even worse.

  Adam’s blank look puzzled me until I realized that he was staring at me as though I’d suddenly begun speaking in a strange language. Moments passed before he said, “Am I understanding this? You’re…trying to protect me?”

  His incredulity sent me over the edge. Glaring at him, I said, “Is that really so strange? You’re not invulnerable, whatever you may think. In case you’ve forgotten, you almost bled out--twice--in front of me.”

  His shrug was honest and unfeigned, a display of incomprehension that was nothing short of mind-boggling. Without the slightest hint of bravado, he said, “Almost doesn’t count.”

  I gawked at him. He gave every appearance of a man expressing a simple and well-recognized fact, one that sensible people--like him--had no trouble accepting.

  In the face of such lunacy, it was all I could do to muster a response. “Seriously? That’s it? You can keep risking you
r life as often as you want so long as you don’t actually die? That’s crazy!”

  His gaze darkened. He reached out, his fingers curling around my chin. The pad of his thumb brushed my lower lip. I braced myself for the inevitable reprimand--something to do with how he was highly trained, more than able to protect himself and others whereas I was…just me.

  But his response came as a surprise. Softly, he said, “You humble me, Grace. Your strength, your courage, the generosity of your nature… I’ve never met anyone like you.”

  His tone changed, becoming grave. “But you must realize that justice, especially the kind that you’re seeking, always comes at a price. Trust me, I know that now better than I ever did.”

  I stared at him as the meaning of his words sunk in. Tears stung my eyes. Our beginning had been dark, twisted, and terrifying. But I’d been foolish enough to think that we had put it behind us. All the while, he’d been carrying a burden of guilt for what he had done that had already led him to risk his life to save me from Sebastian. Now he seemed intent on placing himself in danger yet again.

  Instinctively, I leaned against him, seeking the comfort of his solid strength and the steady beat of his heart. The roughness of his morning stubble rubbed lightly against the top of my head.

  Softly, he said, “I will do anything to protect you. But never ask me to stand by and let you put yourself in harm’s way.”

  I looked up. The warmth of his gaze sent a surge of heat through me. I wanted to forget everything apart from the two of us but the world would not be denied.

  “Then what are we to do?” I asked, “I can’t simply forget what happened to Patrick, what my family has done. I have to at least try to make things right.”

  To my surprise, a reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His finger drifted along the curve of my cheek. I marveled at how his touch could be at once soothing and arousing.

  “Of course you do,” he said gently. “You wouldn’t be you if you felt any differently.”

  As grateful as I was that he understood the conflict raging inside me, I couldn’t see any solution to it.

  Sorrowfully, I said, “We seem to be at an impasse.”

  His gaze sharpened. He took a breath, let it out slowly, and said, “We don’t have to be. There is another alternative.”

  I couldn’t imagine what that might be but I trusted him to at least have an idea. “What is that?” I asked.

  In the soft morning light, his eyes flashed darkly. I was struck in that moment by how certain he looked, as though all the turmoil of the past few weeks had faded away, leaving only clarity behind.

  Calmly, he said, “Marry me.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The world teetered. The light was suddenly too bright; the glare all but blinding me. The rush of blood in my ears was dizzying. After all that had happened, everything I’d experienced, I was finally and utterly undone. With a handful of words, he’d cracked me wide open, exposing a well of emotion that I wasn’t remotely ready to confront. Past, present, future--all clashed together in a fury I feared I wouldn’t survive.

  From a distance, I heard, “Grace, breathe.”

  I dragged in air but the sensation of suddenly having come unmoored from reality didn’t abate. If anything, it grew stronger.

  My frantic gaze met crystalline blue eyes shadowed with concern and something that looked very much like… Pain?

  Gruffly, he asked, “Is it really that bad, even the thought of marriage to me?”

  The vise around my chest tightened. Beyond my own shock and fear, a different, even stronger emotion took hold. That protectiveness he found so hard to understand, glimmering like a silver thread connecting us. Before I could succumb to any doubt, I grabbed hold of it and held on with all my strength.

  “It’s not you. Well, it is. You’re overwhelming but that’s not why…” Struggling to make sense out of my chaotic thoughts, I plunged on. “You have to understand, in my family marriages are travesties, cold, calculated, manipulative. I hope it’s different for some of us who are younger but I never wanted… I was always afraid…”

  I was babbling but I couldn’t stop myself. While other girls were flipping through bridal magazines and imagining their own weddings, I had been focused on following a course through college and beyond that would put me in control of my own life. Once I’d done that, maybe--just maybe--I’d find the courage to share that life with another person. But that day had seemed so far off that I didn’t even let myself consider it. Discovering the truth about Patrick had derailed my grand plan or at least delayed it. And then Adam…

  His wry smile shouldn’t have been enough to steady the world and yet it did all the same. Relief welled up in me.

  “Clearly, I could have done this better,” he said.

  Simple honesty compelled me to correct him. “It might be fairer to say that we both could have.”

  My reaction had been over-the-top bad. I could only hope that he would be able to understand it.

  A long sigh escaped him. He drew me closer, his big hand cupping the back of my head with tender strength. My cheek rested against his broad chest. I inhaled the scent of his skin--sun and man, heat and promise. A treacherous surge of desire welled up in me, threatening to dissolve whatever hold I still had on reason. I fought it but my heart wasn’t in the struggle. It was off somewhere fantasizing about a future I didn’t dare think could be real.

  His hand moved gently down over the nape of my neck and lower, lingering on the tensed muscles between my shoulder blades. Quietly, he said, “I appreciate your concern for me. But it changes nothing. Your plan, what you want to do in New York, can’t work.”

  I looked up, meeting the clear blue intensity of his gaze. Before I could object, he went on implacably. “Consider, you were kidnapped immediately after I expressed an interest in you. After your release, we were reunited publicly. And now your family must have at least some suspicion that you returned to Europe with me. If you go back alone, your grandmother will be bound to question why.”

  “I’ll tell her that you’re occupied with Falzon family business or I just won’t mention you at all.”

  I hadn’t responded to my mother’s eager messages asking if I was with Adam. But I had told Will. I hoped he’d kept my confidence but I couldn’t be sure, not as frightened as he was.

  “Whatever you tell her,” Adam said, “it won’t hold her off for long. Do you honestly believe that she isn’t obsessed with finding someone else to blame for her ‘baby boy’s’ death? The alternative--admitting her own responsibility--could plunge her into a full-blown psychotic break. She’s in a fight for survival and that makes her more dangerous than ever.”

  As I silently absorbed that, he continued, “You can be sure that she’s doing everything possible to discover who had the means and the motive to force her to sacrifice the one person she’s ever cared about in her own twisted way. You’ve already thwarted her by claiming not to know the identity of your captor. If you return to New York, suddenly eager to work for the family foundation that you’ve shunned until now, she’s going to wonder why. She’ll know what Patrick found there. How long do you think it will be before she convinces herself that you’re after the same thing? That we both are?”

  A shudder ran through me. As much as I wanted to disagree, it was all too easy to see Grandmother behaving exactly as he described. Her default position had always been dark suspicion and simmering rage. And that was before what she’d done to Ned. I couldn’t begin to imagine how much worse she was now.

  Even so, I said, “I still don’t see--”

  “Hear me out. We go back to New York together and announce our engagement. In all modesty, we both know that your family will be thrilled. While they’re busy with wedding plans, you’ll have a chance to look for whatever evidence Patrick uncovered, assuming that it still exists. I’ll be able to stay close and keep watch over you without anyone wondering about my presence. Whatever suspicions your grandm
other entertains, she’ll have to weigh them against the benefits of a connection with the Falzons that she has schemed for and desired above all else. At the very least, that will gain us some time.”

  It wasn’t a bad plan…so far as it went. I even appreciated that this man who was so accustomed to being obeyed was taking the trouble to explain what he believed we should do. But could I pay the emotional cost? Not only involving Adam in what could still turn out to be a very dangerous undertaking but also exposing myself to feelings I wasn’t remotely ready to deal with?

  Whatever the answers, there was one point that I urgently needed to clarify.

  “Are you talking about a real engagement or just the pretense of one?”

  His fingers curled under my chin, tilting my head up. Gazing at me with quiet sincerity, he said, “Marriage is sacred, Grace. It should never be a subject for deceit.”

  Before I could absorb the fact that he was serious about our marrying, he added, “Besides, our lives could rest on whether or not your grandmother believes us.”

  With a sickening sense of dread, I realized that he was right. That overwhelmed every other consideration. He had to understand the full extent of the danger he would be walking into.

  “If something happens and she discovers what I’m doing--”

  “Let me worry about that. She’ll hesitate because of the prize being dangled in front of her. You’ll have an opportunity to get what you need. Assuming that it still exists and that you can find it quickly enough.”

  “And if I can’t? What then?” Before he could reply, I went on, “I’m certain that Patrick would have taken steps to safeguard the evidence. But I’ll need time to figure out how he did it. Setting some sort of arbitrary deadline--”

  “There’s nothing arbitrary about it.” His gaze hardened. “So long as I’m convinced that you’re safe, you’ll have the time you need. But the moment that changes, I will act. That’s not negotiable.”