Courage in the Kiss (2 page)

“That damned infuriating man,” Hadley hissed under her breath, to make sure no one heard her.

She stood against the door for a minute, struggling to keep her grip on the box, as the anger built within her. “Swine,” she huffed. She gave the door a kick, wishing it was Maxx, as she pushed herself off the door.

That coldness in his voice, the distance, gave her chills and made her teeth ache. Why did he have to keep reeling her back in, any time she showed an ounce of resistance to his god damned perfect smile and stunning eyes?

Composing herself, she made her way up the centre staircase and glanced at the grandfather clock. It always reminded her of
Titanic
, though Rose never had to wait on Jack, like she was his personal slave. And Jack never looked down on her, like she was something to step over, because she wasn’t even good enough to step
on
.

She glanced at the time; nine o’clock and there was still so much of the day left. With a sigh, Hadley turned left after the clock and made her way up the next set of stairs, straight along the corridor and into the room at the end, on the right. Once inside, she put the box on the large, cream sofa and shut the door.

Her sanctuary. At last.

Hadley looked around the room and smiled. After weeks of begging, Emerson had given her another room.

She’d admitted that she liked to paint, when she had any time left in her day. Knowing this, he’d given her one of the biggest rooms on the first floor and bought her a set of every kind of paint he could think of. He’d even given her the last weekend off, making Micah do all her work, just so she could get the room organised.

The only thing Hadley had to do to earn it was to show him her finished products. There was no problem with that, because her most prized and personal sketches were often unfinished.

She’d agreed to do a special painting for Emerson’s party and let him hang it on the wall. Mostly, he said, it was a test of her talent. He would ask people to make comments and then she’d know just how good she was.

She’d asked if she could borrow some family photographs to put together a family portrait. She had decided to do a sketch of her idea first, to see if it was acceptable, then she’d begin to make the larger painting.

“Okay, stop delaying and get on with it.” She ordered herself to move and crossed to the easel in front of the window.

Staring at the already growing picture, she lifted her pencil and started to finish off the detailed areas, before taking it down to show Emerson. She worked continuously for three hours until, finally, she was finished.

She looked it over and smiled to herself. She laughed a little and thought about how pathetic it was that she preferred the side of the picture with Maxx.

She’d spent so many days waiting for him to return, sitting in the field behind the house, drawing his intense eyes that she wanted him to use only to look at her. His lips, she wanted only to kiss her, and his hands, she wished would reach out and touch her. Sometimes she’d draw them together, with a full portrait, but mostly she drew them separately.

It seemed idiotic to think that she’d spent so many hours gazing into his eyes, watching his lips as he spoke, wanting his hands to touch her. She no longer needed even to close her eyes to image what they looked like. The images were printed at the front of her mind, forever in her thoughts.

With a sigh, she lifted the picture and dusted off the remnants of the rubber, from where she’d messed up the arch of Micah’s nose. She crossed to the door and made her way down to the living room, praying that Emerson would like it as much as she did.

Hadley knocked on the door, before sliding it open and walking inside. With a smile, she looked up and saw Maxx standing at the window, holding one of her paintings, examining it closely.

God, the man was gorgeous. In sunlight or in shadow, he was the most attractive man she’d ever met. He turned upon hearing the door open, and his features never changed. There was no smile or even an arch of those impeccably looked after eyebrows. Just nothing...as usual.

Still...Hadley almost lost herself to those blue eyes, to that natural upward tilt at the corner of his lips and the intensity of his gaze.

“Hi,” she said, attempting to distract herself. She’d decided not to do this; not to drool, like every other time he returned home after weeks away.

She walked further into the room, only to frown as she caught Emerson sitting beside the fire, smoking a cigarette. “What have I told you before?” she said, taking the cigarette from between his lips. She stubbed it out and left it in the ashtray.

“I swear, you get bossier every day,” Emerson joked, as if his health meant nothing. Well, it meant something to her. “You sound just like your mother,” he said, smiling warmly.

Hadley looked away, the thought of her mother too painful. When she caught Maxx staring at her with curiosity, she was forced to change the subject, to draw attention away from herself and her pain.

“I finished that picture you wanted,” she explained, pushing aside her anger at Emerson, for the moment. There was no point reminding everyone that he was the only parental figure she had left, and, if he died, she’d be lost.

She handed the drawing over to Emerson and waited eagerly for a reaction.

“Marvellous.” He sighed in approval. “You have a wonderful talent for people’s emotions,” he claimed, with a resounding pride in his voice.

Hadley smiled, embarrassed by the praise, and placed a strand of hair behind her ear. “You really like it?” she asked, doubtful. “Because I could change it,” she assured him.

“Don’t you dare.” He laughed.

Maxx walked over and stood behind Emerson’s chair. He leaned on it, raising one eyebrow, as he looked at the drawing. “You really do have talent, Hadley,” he commented. “Where ever did you learn it?” he asked with a mischievous smile.

She had never liked that smile. It was smarmy and all knowing; arrogant, in a way that didn’t look right on Maxx. He’d never been that type of man, until he started working and became a ‘businessman’. Another monkey in a suit, as far as Hadley was concerned. The day he’d started working was the day he’d lost his greatest quality: his smile.

“I have a feeling you already know that or you wouldn’t ask,” she replied coolly, her tone causing him to frown at her. “I don’t suppose I could have my picture back?” she asked, holding her hand out to take the painting he had been looking at when she walked into the room.

He held it out for her and pulled it back as she reached out for it. “In Paris?” he asked, more than just a hint of jealousy in his eyes.

“Yes.” She smiled as she took the painting from his grasp and ran her hand over it, remembering the moment as though it had just happened. She stared at the picture as she walked across to the armchair opposite Emerson.

The picture was of herself and Conway, in the rain. She loved the look because she was dressed up in an old fashioned French dress, and Conway was wearing a dark suit. The dress was just below the knee, fitting around the waist, and the perfect shade of soft blue. It always reminded her of old fashioned movies, with Audrey Hepburn and Marilyn Monroe.

When she saw it, she’d wanted it instantly and Conway had managed to coax her into getting a summer hat to go with it. She looked at the picture and ran her hand over his face.

Everyone had expected them to marry while they were away, but, no matter what people thought, they didn’t feel that way about each other. Hadley let out a small giggle, as she remembered the jokes they made while they posed.

Conway leaned against a mail box at the far right of the picture, looking at her, with a newspaper in his hand. Hadley had been the focus of the picture, standing holding the hat to her head with her left hand, while her hair lay in soft waves down one side of her neck. Her right leg was lifted a little as she posed in true movie style. She remembered the artist had thought she was a ‘siren’ and was engaged to Conway.

Sometimes, she wished that she was. Not because she loved Conway or because he loved her, but because life would be so much simpler if they loved each other and got married.

Why did she have to fall in love with Maxx; the arrogant business type, who cared nothing for anyone else? Why couldn’t she have fallen madly in love with Conway; the artist, the comedian, the best friend a girl could have?

After looking at her painting, Hadley served lunch and tidied the kitchen. As she was clearing the final dishes away, Emerson asked her to find Micah and tell him to go into the living room. There was something he wanted to give Hadley, but wanted it to be a surprise.

Hadley hated surprises. She didn’t enjoy having things sprung on her, at the last minute, but she did understand that Emerson loved handing out gifts. Others might feel like a charity case, but Hadley knew that Emerson didn’t treat any of his children, or her, to anything unless he thought they’d earned it.

But it was still damned infuriating.

After a few minutes of searching, Hadley found Rowan and Micah playing video games in the games room. She dropped them off at the living room and told them she’d be back in ten minutes. She had to clean up the mess she’d made in her studio first.

Everything was just as regular as any other day, so she didn’t think anything of Emerson’s ‘gift’, or hurry to find out what it was.

There was so much to do in preparation for Emerson’s business party, that she didn’t have the time for surprises.

But, true to her word, she returned ten minutes later. Self-consciously, Hadley twirled the strand of hair beside her ear a few times and prepared herself for Emerson’s surprise.

She walked into the living room, nervous and terrified of what this surprise could be.

Micah walked up to her and gave her a hug, as soon as he saw her. “Congratulations!” he whispered.

Hadley smiled as she pulled away. “What for?” she wondered.

“I can’t wait for you to be my big sister,” he gushed, excitedly.

Hadley stared at him in disbelief, as the room started spinning.

“We’re going to have to throw you the biggest party ever,” Micah continued.

Hadley looked at Emerson and knew that it wasn’t by means of a proposal from Maxx. What sane person, in this day and age, proposed marriage to the father – or father figure – of the bride, before asking her.

She looked at him pleadingly, begging him to say it wasn’t true. The thought of Maxx arranging for her to marry him swirled around her head. Oh God, what if there was a clause in a contract somewhere, that insisted that Maxx be married or produce an heir, to get what he wanted? Would he do that to her?

Yes. Hadley knew damned well that he would. He was a selfish bastard and the way he was looking at her, so cold and with that smarmy smirk, said that he was enjoying this moment.

Hadley wanted to knock the look right off his face, but had no strength to.

“Yes, dear girl.” Emerson smiled, bouncing on his heels as he stood in the centre of the room, hands behind his back, chest puffed out. He looked the epitome of a proud father. He walked over and held her at arm’s length as she felt her world crumbling around her.

“To celebrate your twenty-first birthday, in a few months, we’re going to make you an honorary member of the family. Give you that one thing you’ve always wanted. You’ll no longer by Hadley Young, but Hadley Williams. I’ve already got the adoption papers ready for you to sign,” he explained happily, hugging her tight.

Adoption?

That was even worse than Maxx setting her up or using her love for him to his advantage. This was a nightmare.

“No,” she protested, pulling away from him. She loved Emerson, really she did, but this wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

She saw the frown on his brow, the confusion in his eyes, but she couldn’t explain. If he didn’t know, after all the years it had been so obvious to everyone else, that wasn’t her fault. But she couldn’t let him ruin her life.

“No!” Hadley shouted, realising that he didn’t understand. She backed away to the door, saying a silent prayer that she was dreaming. It couldn’t be real. “You can’t. You’ll ruin everything…” she argued, a tear falling from her eye as she tried to explain. “Please don’t,” she begged, as the door blocked her retreat.

Micah looked at her and sighed, realising what was wrong. He was the only one who seemed to understand what this really meant. “Hadley, I’m sorry…I never thought,” he admitted sadly.

“What is wrong with you?” Emerson asked angrily. “Don’t you want to be a part of this family?” he asked.

“No!” she shouted, all too aware of Maxx advancing on her from the side of the room. “I don’t want it to happen this way,” she continued, raising her voice. Her hands went to her stomach, pressing tightly against her top, as she tried to fight off a rising wave of nausea. All she could do was shake her head and wish it wasn’t real.

“You ungrateful little…” Emerson began, before remembering his manners. He took a deep breath and glared at the girl he had once wished to be his daughter. But she knew they could never turn the clock back. Not now.

“I don’t want your pity. I just want to be loved!” she shouted at him, trying to make him see. But his eyes were cold now, devoid of any love that had once been there. She turned, wanting nothing but to disappear, only to find Maxx standing right in front of her. His face was hard and just as empty of emotion as his father as she pushed past him and ran up the stairs in tears.