Lisa Jackson's the Abandoned Box Set (15 page)

“
I'm
not marrying anyone.”

“That's encouraging,” he said, and his mouth shifted into his first honest smile of the day.

“I can't tell you anything about Kent that you don't already know. I thought I loved him and that he loved me, but I was mistaken and I thank my lucky stars that I wasn't foolish enough to marry him. But I don't think he stole from my father. He's not that stupid…and it would take a lot more money for him to betray Dad.”

“But he would do it?”

“Loyalty isn't Kent's strongest quality,” she said grimly, thinking of Kent's affair with Dolores.

“So what about Fred Ainger? He's about to retire and he lives the good life. I don't think Social Security and his pension at Montgomery Inns will cover his wife's extravagances.”

“Fred's too honest.”

“Is he?” Obviously Adam wasn't convinced. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully, as if he were squinting to read extremely small print. “How well do you know Rose Trullinger?”

“Well enough. You can't possibly imagine
she
would embezzle. She's in interior design. How could she possibly juggle the books?”

“Doesn't she have access to a computer terminal?”

“Yes, but—”

“And isn't it linked to the entire Montgomery Inns chain?”

“By secret access codes.” This was too farfetched. Adam was really reaching.

“Rose has an ailing husband who can't hold a job, and three daughters in college.”

“Just because people need money, doesn't mean they'd steal!” she said in exasperation. This conversation was getting them nowhere, and they were avoiding the issue that was on both their minds. Marnie could think of nothing but their lovemaking, and though Adam had changed the topic, she wasn't finished having it out with him.

“I have a question for you,” she finally admitted.

“Shoot.”

His golden brown gaze held hers. “What about sleeping with me?” she demanded, bracing herself for the pain of his rejection. “Didn't it mean anything?”

He hesitated just a second before answering coldly. “Last night was sex.”

“And that's all?”

His eyes bored into hers, and the air between them fairly sizzled with electricity. He swirled his drink, tossed it back and slammed the empty glass on the bar. “That's all it could ever be.”

She wanted to hit him. To slap him so hard he would take back the ugly words, but she couldn't. Because he was speaking the truth. They had no future together, no love, just sex.

“They're right about you,” she finally said, her jaw wobbling ever so slightly and hot tears building behind her eyes. “You're just as bad as Dad and Kent think.”

“Probably,” he agreed as she spun and stumbled blindly up the steps and through the lobby. She had to get away from him, had to pull herself together. She shoved open the door with her shoulder as tears started to stream down her face. She couldn't break down in front of him, wouldn't let him see her cry.

“Marnie!”

Oh, God, he was following her!

She ran, around the corner to the back of the lodge. His footsteps crunched in the gravel behind her, and he caught up with her at the weed-strewn parking lot, near a spreading maple tree with branches that provided a green canopy. “Marnie—wait. Just listen to me.” He grabbed hold of her arm, and though she tried to pull away from him, he was much stronger than she, and she was wrenched back against the solid wall of his chest.

His arms surrounded her. “Marnie, Marnie, Marnie,” he whispered against her hair. “Don't hate me.”

“I do!” she lied, wishing she could pull away. “All you are is trouble. My father was right!”

“Your father's wrong about a lot of things, and so are you.” He stared down into her shimmering eyes, and she
wanted to collapse against him, to beg him to take back the cruel words, but of course he wouldn't.

“Just leave me alone!”

But he didn't. Instead his lips crashed down on hers, possessive and hard, demanding and comforting, and she struggled hard to pull away. But his arms were powerful, his mouth hot and wet, his will as strong as her own.

Her body reacted, sagging against his hard male contours, her arms slackening until she fought no longer and was aware of only Adam. The smell of the sea wafted over the musky scent of him, and deep in the distance she heard birds startled at the sound of a car's engine. Closing out all sounds, she clung to him and molded her body tight against his.

Groaning, he moved so that her back was pressed hard against the rough bark of the maple, but she didn't care, and when his hands moved upward along her arms, she shuddered with want. Her mouth opened easily to his practiced tongue.

Vaguely she was aware that something was wrong, that the sounds of the day had changed, but she didn't know or care why. She was lost in a savage storm of emotion, and as his hand surrounded her breast, gently massaging her flesh through her sweater while his tongue tickled the inside of her mouth, she gave in to all the wanton pulses firing her blood.

Until he stopped. As quickly as he'd pulled her to him, he released her. “Someone's coming,” he said as the whine of a car's engine split the air and the nose of a white sedan rounded the final curve in the gravel lane.

Quickly Marnie straightened the hem of her sweater and swiped at the tears still standing in her eyes, but not before she met the furious gaze of the driver of the sedan. Her heart plummeted. Right now, she wasn't ready to face her father.

Victor's polished leather shoes landed on the gravel as the car rolled to a stop. “What the hell's going on here?” he said in a voice so low and menacing Marnie could barely hear it over the dull pounding of the surf. His gaze landed in contemptuous force on Adam. “Well, Drake, you got what you wanted. I'm here. Now what?”

“I just want to talk to you.”

Marnie hadn't even noticed Kent in the passenger seat of the car, but there he was, climbing out of the sedan, his shoulders stiff, his mouth a white, uncompromising line. His whole attitude reeked of disdain, as if he could barely stomach the scene unfolding before him. However, Marnie knew him better than most and she saw something more than he'd like to show, something he was trying to hide, something akin to fear that touched his features.

The wind picked up, shoving Marnie's hair in front of her eyes, as her father reached her side. “Are you all right?” Victor asked, grabbing her in a huge bear hug. His face was filled with fatherly concern, and Marnie realized she'd wounded him bitterly by leaving with Adam.

“I'm okay.”

“You're sure?” He held her at arm's length, as if he could see the scars on her soul, scars inflicted by Adam Drake.

“Dad, believe me. I never felt better.” From the corner of her eye she saw Adam stiffen.

“And what about him?” He motioned to Adam, and Marnie recognized a spark of rebellion in Adam's eyes. “He treat you right?”

“No one ‘treated' anyone,” she said evenly. “And you're here now. Why not talk to him yourself?”

A muscle flexed in Victor's cheek, and the wind blew his tie over his shoulder. He hesitated just a second, but finally said, “All right, Drake. Let's get this over with. What's on your mind?”

Adam told him. Right there in the old parking lot with the first few storm clouds rolling in from the west. Rain began to fall from the dark sky as Adam explained his theory of being set up and he didn't stop, not even when Kent scoffed at him.

Victor listened, though Marnie guessed he wasn't buying any of Adam's theories.

“All I want is another chance to prove that I'm innocent,” Adam finally said, “and a public apology from you, absolving me of all guilt when that proof is uncovered.”

“You're out of your mind,” Kent said. “You've got no proof of a conspiracy against you or whatever you think happened. You're grasping at straws, man.”

“Maybe your straw,” Adam said with a slow, cold smile, challenging Kent without so much as lifting a finger. Kent rose to the bait, his jaw set and his handsome face flushed dark. He was ready to fling himself at Adam, but he must have thought better of his actions, for he straightened his tie instead and backed down. For the moment.

Victor remained unswayed. “All right, Drake, you've had your say. And I've listened. And I only have one thing to say to you—keep the hell away from my daughter. As for your cockamamy theories, keep them to yourself. You screwed me over, Drake, and I have a long memory. So don't try to drag innocent people's names through the mud, because it won't work with me.” He'd slowly built himself into a rage. “Come on, Marnie—” He reached for her arm.

“I'm not leaving.”

“What?” Her father stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. “Of course you're coming with me, now get your things and—”

“Listen, Dad. Nothing's changed,” she said, wincing at the lie. “I'm not coming back to the company. The paper I gave you was a resignation, not a request for a leave of
absence. And I haven't forgotten what you did on the night of the party.” From the corner of her eye, she saw Kent go white.

“But you're coming back to Seattle,” Kent said.

“Not yet.”

“For God's sake, what's gotten into you?” he sputtered. “Has Drake brainwashed you?” Flinging one hand in the air, he turned to Victor and as if Marnie hadn't a mind of her own said, “You talk some sense into her and take her back with the car. I'll sail the
Marnie Lee
into port and have her repaired.”

“Over my dead body,” Marnie cried. “
I'm
responsible for the boat, and I'll take care of her.”

“And what about him?” Kent hooked an insolent thumb in Adam's direction.

“He's his own person. He got what he wanted from me, didn't he?” she said, coloring a little. “He got you both up here. He can do whatever he pleases.”

“For God's sake, Marnie, listen to reason,” her father begged, but she turned swiftly on her heel and headed back to the lodge. She was tired of men—all men—manipulating her, using her, thinking about her from their own selfish perspectives. Well, the whole lot of them could rot in hell. Victor for smothering her, Kent for betraying her and lying to the press about marrying her, and Adam for seducing her and playing with her heart.

If only she could run to a nunnery, she thought sarcastically, but stopped dead in her tracks. She wasn't running
away
from her problems, she was running
to
a new self-sufficient life. She'd start her own publicity firm, just as soon as the
Marnie Lee
was repaired.

She threw things in her bag and listened, hoping for the sound of a car's engine as it left, but instead she heard the door of the lodge open and slam shut. “You're leaving.” Adam's voice startled her. She'd expected her father.

“That's right.”

“Where're you going?”

“Don't know.”

“Marnie, I—”

She shouldered her bag and brushed past him. “Don't bother apologizing, Adam. It's not your style.” With one last glance that she hoped appeared scathing, she pressed forever into her memory how he looked just then, with three days' worth of stubble on his chin, his hair uncombed, his clothes unclean. Her father was right. She was better off without him. So why, then, did her heart ache so?

She left Adam in the lobby. Her father would see that Adam was duly thrown out and that Deception Lodge was secured. Oh, she'd bungled this first attempt at independence, she thought miserably as she hiked down the trail leading to the beach where the rubber raft awaited, but her mangled attempt was because of Adam. She should never have let him get so close to her.

Rain peppered the ground, puddling in the sandy path and giving the forest a fresh, earthy cleanliness that reminded her of Adam.

“You'll get over him,” she predicted, but wondered just how long it would take.

H
E'D BLOWN IT
. With Marnie. With Victor. With Montgomery Inns.

Adam threw his few new belongings into a nylon bag and slung it over his shoulder before heading to the office of the fleabag of a motel he'd called home for the past week. He'd stayed in Chinook Harbor, knowing Marnie had checked into a hotel on the other side of town. Several times he'd tried to contact her. So far, she hadn't responded.

He didn't really blame her.

Ever since the confrontation with Victor in the parking lot of the lodge, Adam had relived the scene over and over again in his mind. He should have anticipated the outcome. Marnie, furious with all of them, had left without so much as a glance over her stiff shoulder, and Adam had felt the unlikely urge to run after her. And what? Apologize? Ridiculous! He couldn't start letting a woman foul up his plans—especially when that woman was Victor Montgomery's only child, his princess.

As for Victor, the old man had looked as if he wanted to kill Adam right on the front porch of Deception Lodge. Somehow, Victor had managed to control his thirst for blood and had, instead, made a big show of kicking Adam off Montgomery property. Victor had been white with rage, shaking as he'd chained the front door and slammed the padlock shut, swearing and threatening to call the police.

“This is it, Drake,” he'd growled, his voice so hushed Adam had barely heard it over the sound of the surf. “You've pushed me too far this time. The inns were one thing. Money, I can always make. But my daughter…” By this time Victor's lips were bloodless, his blue eyes colder than ice. “I'll never forget how you used and humiliated her to get to me. If you breathe one word of this to anyone, I swear I'll call the authorities and then I'll personally wring your worthless neck!” With that, he'd stalked to his car, and Adam, every muscle aching with restraint, hadn't lunged at the man, nor begged forgiveness. He'd just stood there and when Victor had opened the door of the Mercedes and stared at him, Adam had met Victor's unwavering hate-filled gaze with his own steady scrutiny.