If I Can't Have You (25 page)

“You’ve done your homework well, haven’t you?”

“Actually, I’m quite familiar with my family history.”

Stewart leaned forward, resting his arms on his desk. “This is quite a little charade you’ve got going. Obviously you’ve done a lot of research trying to find out everything you could about the real Trevor Montgomery. But when you couldn’t figure out what had happened to him after he disappeared, you made up a story to explain your birth. You made a big mistake, though, using the name Gabrielle Ramon.”

Trevor didn’t let the calm, cool look leave his eyes, in spite of his anger over his mistake. He should have known better than to use that name. In all his years in Hollywood, no one had ever known the truth about his parents. He didn’t want anyone knowing. Not then. Not now.

“Who are you?” Stewart asked.

Trevor met Stewart’s glare eye to eye. He couldn’t back down now. “I’m Trevor Montgomery. Perhaps you haven’t been listening.”

“Want to make up another story?”

“I can’t.”

“I could have you take a lie detector test.”

“Go right ahead.”

“The prospect of being proved a liar doesn’t bother you?”

“Not in the
least. Hypnotize me. Give me a li
e detector test. Stick me in an office with a psychiatrist for a month and my story won’t change. I am and always have been Trevor Montgomery.”

Stewart shook his head. “I
will
prove you’re a fraud.”

“How? By sending more investigators to Mexico? By sending more photographers to spy on Adriana and me?”

“Photographers?”

“The man who’s been watching us. Last night. The day before. He’s not very shrewd. That silver van of his is as inconspicuous as Mae West in a nunnery.”

Stewart frowned. “Someone else must be investigating you. If I’d hired a photographer, you never would have seen him.”

“I can’t think of any reason I’d be followed. Maybe it’s Adriana he’s interested in.”

“Adriana’s name’s been dragged through the papers enough in her lifetime. Why don’t you get out of her life so it doesn’t happen again.”

“What makes you so sure I’m bad for her?”

“You’re a fraud.”

Trevor pushed out of the chair and paced the room. “Tried and convicted without a trial, right? Is that your usual style?”

“I’m known for making good character judgments. I’ve doubted your claim to be Trevor Montgomery’s son from the moment you threw that insane story at me.”

“I don’t care what you think about me. Investigate me all you want, you’re not going to find a thing. But I’ll clear up one thing in your mind right now. I have no intention of hurting Adriana. I care for her. I’d get out of her life if I thought being with her was going to cause her any harm.”

“I could almost believe you’re sincere.”

Trevor braced his hands on the desk and glared at Stewart. “I’ve never been more sincere about anything in my life.”

Stewart pulled an envelope from the file he’d compiled on Trevor’s made-up past and slowly pushed it across the table. “That’s the identification you want. It doesn’t matter much to me who you say you are, but maybe you’ll take that and get out of Adriana’s life.”

Trevor took the envelope, not bothering to look inside. He didn’t care much for Stewart Rosenblum, but he trusted him to do what Adriana had asked.

“It’s been a very interesting conversation, Stewart.
I’d hoped we could be friends, for Adriana’s sake. But that doesn’t seem possible.”

“I’m sure she’ll be wanting you out of her life as soon as she hears this news about you. Then we won’t have to bother becoming friends.”

Trevor grinned. “She knows that story already. In fact, she’s the one who made it up.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Why don’t you ask her, since you find what I say difficult to believe.”

“Perhaps I will, as soon as my investigator gets back to me with a few other pieces of information.”

“It’s going to take a hell of a lot better information than what you’ve already come up with to make her change her mind about me.”

“Then I’ll keep digging.”

Stewart pushed up from his desk, walked across the room and opened t
he door. “I’m a busy man, Mr....
Montgomery.”

He’d been branded a murderer, a womanizer, an alcoholic, and now a fraud. Maybe sticking around in 1938 would have been easier.

But Adriana was in 1998. She made all the accusations easier to bear. Besides, he said he’d fight for her. He meant it, too.

He held out his hand when he got to the door, but Stewart ignored his gesture. Hell! He was getting awfully tired of people backing away from him.

“I’ll be watching you,” Rosenblum said. “And I’ll be keeping an eye on Adriana, too. Make sure you don’t hurt her.”

Hurt Adriana?
That wasn’t his plan at all. He was going to seduce her, and he wasn’t going to wait another night. She’d pulled away one too many times, but she wasn’t going to back away from him again.

When he looked into Adriana’s eyes he could see the want and need. It was mixed in with a hell of a
lot of fear, but that was something they could overcome. She had to give in to her own feelings.

He walked out of Stewart’s office knowing exactly what he had to do. Something completely unexpected. Something wicked. He’d done a lot of wicked things in the past, and he’d tried to be so damn good since he’d stepped into the future. But he was tired of being good.

All afternoon Adriana had thought about Trevor’s wish that she believe in him. If only she could snap her fingers and wish away the doubt, but she couldn’t. As much as his touch set her on fire, as much as she wanted to spend an eternity in his arms, at the back of her mind was the fear.

He could be a murderer.

He’s a drunk and might never change.

He’s a seducer of women.

Those things haunted her, but in spite of her fear she was easily drawn in by the power of his smile, his charms, his enticing voice that rang with laughter or whispered with passion. He was everything she’d longed for in a man.

The man she was falling in love with wasn’t a dream. He was real—flesh and blood. A man with faults. He’d held her, he’d kissed her, he’d made her laugh, made her angry. He’d made her feel when for so very long she’d felt nothing.

The man she was falling in love with was better than a dream. And she wanted so very much to believe in him.

The car’s headlights flashed across the patio as she pulled into the driveway, and she could see Trevor
relaxing in one of the chairs, legs crossed, a crystal wine goblet in his hand.

So much for belief.

Slamming the car door, she headed toward the patio. The sleeves were rolled up on his white cotton shirt. He was barefoot and wearing the black Levi’s that had become as much a part of him as the wineglass in his hand. His eyes smoldered as they looked at her. He didn’t smile. He didn’t frown. He just watched intensely. Slowly he raised the glass and took a sip of the wine.

“What are you doing?” she asked angrily. “You promised not to drink anymore.”

A slow grin crossed his face. “What I’m doing, Adriana, is making you angry. Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are when you get upset?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

He swirled the wine around in his glass. “I can’t think of a better subject to discuss than you. Where should we begin? The brightness of your eyes? The way your cheeks are blushing right this moment?”

“You’re ignoring me.”

“Never. I’m just admiring the view.”

Adriana turned away. “I don’t want to be looked at.”

She thought about going in the house. She thought about kissing the smugness off his face. Damn! Why did he have to infuriate her so? Why did he have to make her blood boil and her heart pound when she knew she should run away from him?

From the corner of her eye she could see him lift a bottle and refill his glass. “Care for some?”

Her head snapped around and she glared at him. “How can you ask me that?”

“Quite easily,” he said, taking another sip. “Sparkling cider’s not all that bad. Of course, if you’re not thirsty...”

Her glare shot from Trevor’s arrogant face to the
light green bottle that, indeed, said sparkling cider, then back again to his face.

What had gotten into him? She didn’t like his idea of a joke. She didn’t like the way he was trying to make her mad.

Turning, she took one step toward the house, but Trevor wrapped his fingers around her arm and held her back.

“I’m not through admiring the view.”

Her chin jutted out. “I’m not here for your amusement.”

He smiled wickedly. “It’s pleasure I’m after, not amusement.”

A quiver ran through her chest, her belly, her very soul.

He planned to seduce her.

She planned to let him.

She hoped.

His fingers loosened around her arm as he stood. Slowly, methodically, he set the glass on the table, then pulled the strap of her purse from her shoulder and discarded it next to the glass. Her briefcase was next.

He gently curled her hair behind her ears, trailing his fingers along her jaw and down to the hollow of her throat. She could hardly breathe or swallow; she was too mesmerized by his eyes, his touch, the seductive sound of his voice.

“Take off your shoes, Adriana.”

“Why?”

He put a finger to her lips and silenced her. “Don’t ask questions. Just trust me.”

Was she making a mistake? Would she regret doing what he asked? It didn’t seem to matter after she looked into his eyes. The intensity of his desire seemed to hypnotize her. Right now she’d do anything he wanted.

She stepped out of her sandals onto the terra-cotta
tile. It was warm, but it was his eyes that sent fingers of heat rippling through her body.

What would he ask her to do next?

“Kiss me.”

‘That’s all?” she asked, a bit wary of what the kiss might lead to, a bit disappointed that he might not want more.

He grinned as he silenced her again.

“Don’t talk. Just kiss me.”

It seemed an easy enough request.

Standing on her tiptoes, she leaned forward and gently kissed his lips, then waited for his next request.

His eyes
flickered to the silk of her
shirt, to the lace concealing her breasts. She took a long, deep breath as he watched her chest rise and fall.

Suddenly, he swept her up in his arms, and carried her like a babe toward the stairs leading to the beach.

“What are you doing?”

“
S
how
ing
you what pleasure’s all about.”

“I don’t know if I want to find out.”

“Hush, Adriana,” he said softly. “Just put your arms around my neck and don’t let go. When I want you to talk or do something else, I’ll let you know.”

He carried her as if carrying women was something he did every day. Of course, he’d held a woman while swinging from one ship to another. He’d cradled a woman in his arms as he rode across the desert’s blazing sands. He’d carried a woman up a flight of curving stairs, taken her to his bed, and made love to her.

He’d been the brash and adventurous hero in so many movies. He was playing that role again right now, and it was so easy to let him.

Stars were shining overhead when Trevor stepped onto the beach. A light breeze wrapped around
them, and a calm tide lapped back and forth.

The stretch of sand was deserted, as it usually was this time of night, and she was thankful for the solitude.

She wondered, again, what Trevor had planned to heighten the intense pleasure she was already experiencing. But she dared not ask. No, he’d only tell her to trust him. And she wanted so much to trust.

She wove her fingers into his hair as he walked toward the water. She could feel the strong beat of his heart, the warmth of his breath against her cheek as he carried her across the sand.