CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

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"CARE TO TELL me what happened back there?"

Calder glanced at Adam, sitting in the passenger seat as though they were out for a quiet evening drive. As though whatever took place inside Clam Diggers was an everyday occurrence.

Her gaze shifted to where Aurora lay sprawled, passed out. The backseat was small. She had Adam's jacket wrapped around her and a half smile on her mouth with just enough smugness to set Calder's teeth on edge. She didn't seem to have a care in the world. Or, more likely, she enjoyed the role of the catalyst which caused all hell to break loose.

Calder had never met the woman. And she hated to judge. Aurora was Adam's friend. He'd felt strongly that she needed his help. Which made him one of the good guys. As for Aurora? Innocent—for now. Calder considered the jury still out.

"Well?"

"Bastard was feeding her pills." With a grimace, Adam flexed his right hand. "Who knows what kind of fucked-up shit was in them."

"The bastard is Bridge Manfred. He's a drug dealer."

"A drug—? Shit. How the hell did Aurora hook up with scum like that? Wait?" With the intensity of a laser beam, Adam's gaze landed on Calder. "You know him? How? Why?"

Questions? Or accusations? The latter, if his tone was anything to go by. Calder felt her temper rise, then took a deep, calming breath.

Normally, she would tell him to go to hell. Who she knew, and why she knew them was none of his business. Because his emotions were at a heightened level, she would give him a pass—this time—and explain.

"We met at some party or other. He was introduced as a friend of a friend. Not surprisingly, at the time nobody volunteered how he made a living. I found out later."

"Right. Sorry." All at once, the anger seeped from Adam's voice—and body. Rubbing his eyes, his head fell back as if he no longer had the energy to hold it upright. "All I wanted to do was take Aurora home. Let her sleep off whatever she'd put in her system. Asshole had other ideas."

"So, you hit him?"

Eyes still closed, a slow smile formed on Adam's lips.

"Went down like a sack of wet bricks."

When Calder was thirteen and stuck with her father for most of the summer—the feeling was mutual—he took her to a boxing match at one of the big Vegas hotels.

Front row seats. Surrounded by A-list celebrities. Dressed to the nines. Glitter and glamour as far as the eye could see. Edwin Calder never went anywhere unless he could go first class.

The pageantry of the event had appealed to Calder. The brutality hadn't. After the first gush of blood, she spent the rest of the time with her eyes closed. Before the start of the fifth round, she left and spent the rest of the evening in her room on the phone with one sister or another.

His attention divided between the action in the ring, and his latest girlfriend's sizable cleavage, her father never noticed her absence. The next morning, the girlfriend was gone. As was the twenty grand he'd bet—and as usual—lost.

To this day, Calder didn't care for fights—professional or otherwise. Yet, she would have paid good money to watch Adam clean Bridge Manfred's clock with one mighty blow.

Her gaze left the road for a second, landing on Adam's hand. The knuckles were red and slightly swollen. And by his wince when he flexed his fingers, painful.

"Should I detour to the emergency room?"

Adam shrugged off her concern.

"Just needs some ice."

Calder raised Adam's hand to her lips. Carefully, she placed a soft kiss on each knuckle. Then for good measure, her mouth lingered. His fingers. His palm.

"Better?"

"Forget the ice. Your kisses are magic."

Adam's voice took on a gravelly quality that sent a lovely skittering of electricity across Calder's skin. With one last kiss, she released his hand—onto her thigh.

"The evening isn't going to end the way I'd hoped." Calder checked the dashboard clock. Quarter after one. "Correction. Morning, not evening."

By now, Calder had hoped to be naked, wrapped in Adam's arms. Rounding the corner of orgasm number two.

"No. Much to my discomfort." Adam shifted in his seat. When he saw Calder's mouth curve upward, his eyes narrowed. "Go ahead and laugh. My condition is all on you. Kissing my hand with those unbelievably soft lips. How'd you think I would react?"

"My touch was meant to be strictly medicinal. I have no control over how your body responds."

Adam's hand moved along the length of Calder's thigh. A light, subtle, relatively innocent caress. Yet, diabolical. If he wanted her to suffer with him, he'd achieved his goal. Their thoughts wandered down the same path. A path—for now—that led to nowhere.

"I was afraid you might have changed your mind."

Calder frowned.

"Why?"

"You didn't sign on for a bar fight."

"Does one punch constitute a fight?" Calder teased.

Adam chuckled. A good sound. He'd regained some of his earlier good humor.

"As you said, the evening hasn't ended the way either of us expected."

"Instead of sex with me, you helped a friend." Hardly a difficult choice in Calder's book. "Should I be angry?"

Adam shook his head.

"I've known women who would be."

"You should rethink your taste in women." A twinkle in her eyes, Calder tossed the advice Adam once gave her back in his face.

"I already did," he countered. "The second I laid eyes on you."

Oh, boy. Trouble straight ahead. Calder's pulse jumped. Raced. Was she a fool to believe Adam hadn't just handed her a tried and true line? One he'd used dozens of times? Her instincts said no.

And if, for once, her never-fail gut was wrong? Calder would deal with the fallout when, no, if, the time came. For now, she wanted a chance to get to know Adam better. In and out of bed.

"Would you still want to sleep with me if I hadn't been so understanding?"

"Sure." Adam chuckled. "I'm no fool. Then, I'd dump you like a hot potato."

"Harsh," Calder accused.

"Honest," Adam corrected.

"Fair enough." Honesty was right at the top of Calder's wish list. What choice did she have? She put her cards on the table. "I want to see you again, Adam. If you feel the same?"

"Like I said, I'm no fool." Adam glanced out the window as Calder turned onto his street. "Next time, I'll shut off my phone."

"Next time, I'll remind you." She braked in front of the well-lit apartment building. "I have a few fantasies I'd like you to help fulfill."

"Fantasies?" With a groan, Adam cleared his throat. "About me?"

"One or two. Believe me, number three will blow your mind."

Adam hit the release button on his seatbelt, leaning close until Calder couldn't miss the interest in his deep-blue eyes.

"Now I have to know."

For a second, Calder was tempted. Everything about Adam made her want to throw caution to the wind. She might have taken the chance, given into the impulse. Except she remembered just in time they weren't alone.

Calder glanced in the rearview mirror. Thinking back over what was said during the drive uptown, she should have considered Aurora's presence sooner. Just because Adam's friend hadn't moved, didn't mean she wasn't awake. And listening.

Certain Aurora's eyelids twitched, Calder shook her head. Sorry, honey. The show's over.

"My fantasies will have to wait," she told him. When he would have protested, she gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. Then whispered, "I can come back later tonight. Seven o'clock too soon?"

Adam's smile sent her heart racing—and made Calder feel very, very wanted. He squeezed her thigh before he reluctantly exited the car. A second later, the passenger seat fell forward, as he took Aurora's limp body into his arms.

"Need any help?"

"I'm good."

You certainly are, Calder thought with a smile. After he closed the door, she rolled down the window

"Drive safe. The roads can get slick after a late-night downpour. Text as soon as you're home safe and sound. For my peace of mind."

Calder nodded. She pulled away without an ounce of concern as Adam disappeared into the building with another woman.

The reason hit her as she waited at a red light. Between the catacombs and when Adam had coldcocked a drug dealer, something unprecedented had occurred.

For the first time in her life, Calder trusted a man. The feeling was foreign. New. Would need nurturing like a seedling reaching for its first taste of sunlight.

And what do you know? As far as she could tell, hell hadn't frozen over.