The Temptation of Laura (25 page)

“You asked if she’s been here.”

He spun around. “I did?”

She strolled to the other side of the bed, her pretty head held high as the skirt of her dress brushed the carpet. Retrieving his shoes from beneath the bed, she held them out to him. “Here.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Adam marched toward her and grabbed the shoes. He tugged, but she held fast, looking at him intently, all humor gone from her gaze. “Can you remember what one of my girls told you?”

Irritation hummed inside and he yanked on the shoes.

She released them and raised her hands in surrender. “I don’t mean to rouse your temper, sir. I think it’s important you remember what you were told. Whoever Laura is, she’s quite clearly important to you.”

“She is.” He sat on the bed to put on his shoes. “Too important to discuss here. I was drunk, and it seems I was saying far too much to you or any of the women working here.”

“Do you want to know if she’s been here or not?”

Adam stilled, his fingers frozen on the laces of his shoes. Did he want to know if it was here Laura had lain with a man for money? Money she felt they needed and he could not provide? Sickness furled in his stomach as he gave a final yank on the laces. He stood and pulled back his shoulders as though bracing for a violent blow.

He quirked an eyebrow in a gesture of nonchalance. “Why not?”

She planted her hands on her hips, her face stern. “If it’s the woman I think you were asking after, she came here a few days ago. She was confident on the outside, but her eyes gave her away. I’ve seen it a hundred times before. She spent the time here for someone she wanted to help . . . maybe even someone she loved.”

A barrage of emotions tumbled and twisted inside. Heat pinched at his cheeks, and frustration curled his hands into fists. “She doesn’t love me.”

She frowned. “Oh?”

His heart kicked painfully. “When I told her I loved her, there was no declaration on her part.” He shrugged into his jacket, pride rising up and pushing painfully at his heart. “You are right to some extent. If she was here, she came out of desperation. Desperation brought on by my actions, not hers.”

She studied him for a long moment before inhaling a long breath. “So, what happens next? You leave her to the wolves? Let her go it alone to find somewhere else to work?”

“That is none of your business.”

She glared. “Any girl who comes here becomes my business whether they like it or not. Now, Mr. Lacey, will you go after her and tell her how you feel and that you acknowledge what it must have taken to do what she did for you? Or will you act like a typical man and pretend it never happened?”

Adam clenched his jaw. How many hours had he wasted here? How would he find Laura now? He was a blind fool to not respect her. To not see her for the proud, self-sufficient woman she was. A woman used to making her own decisions. A woman who had fought and survived far worse challenges than he had ever endured.

“Well?” Mrs. Fleet stared. “Yes or no? Will you go after her?”

His love for Laura surged through him, making Adam tremble with its ferocity. He prayed to God he had not lost the brightest spotlight to ever shine on his life. “I will find her, Mrs. Fleet. Do not worry about that. I will find her and I will do everything I can to convince her to forgive me.” Adrenaline overtook the banging in his head and lit a fire deep inside. He made for the door and pulled it open. “I am going to find her and ask her to be my wife. No . . . my life.”

She winked and her pretty face lit with a wide smile. “Well, go on, then. What are you waiting for?”

Laura stood in position as the theater curtain lowered, her heart racing and her hands clammy. Her fifth performance without a single blip or stutter over her lines. She owed everything to Monica and her help in getting her a small part in the play currently showing at Theater Royal. Never in her wildest dreams did she think this day would ever come. She was an actress. An actress with a small but perfect role. If only for a week or two. A short-lived but fantastical dream come true—not dissimilar to her and Adam . . .

Tears threatened. God, to have the curtain lift and see Bette sitting in the front row, her huge smile lighting up the auditorium. Adam lingered, as he always did, at the periphery of Laura’s mind and she steadfastly pushed him away. There was little point in dwelling on what could’ve been when she had a baby to take care of. Her child meant more to her than a lost love ever could.

She forced a smile and cheered along with the rest of the cast as they exited the stage and made for their different dressing rooms. It had been two long weeks since she’d last seen Adam and her heart still ached for him. She’d kept busy with rehearsals and sharing quiet evenings with Monica in her parlor whilst she stayed with her. Yet, the gaping hole in her heart still remained.

The regrets in her life were several, but she’d never regret her time with Adam or the conception of his child. She pressed a hand to her precious cargo as she entered the dressing room she shared with two other actresses. Thankful the room was empty, her mind filled with the options she had open to her once her pregnancy started to show. She’d yet to even tell Monica, for fear she’d disappoint her. How long could she work when the baby would only grow bigger and stronger? Laura smiled. She’d worry about that when the time came.

She ducked behind the screen to change. Purposefully focused, she undressed. Her burgeoning hormones played constant havoc with her determination to forget Adam and accept she would soon be a mother alone with her babe. Not that her solitary state bothered her.

A pull deep in her belly told her the baby disagreed.

Stripped down to her costume chemise, Laura lifted it over her head and turned to the floor-length mirror behind her. She smiled softly to see the beginnings of a soft curve at the base of her belly. It would be barely noticeable to anyone else, but to her it was real and as precious as a million diamonds. Her baby was secure. Her second child had already grown so much further than her first.

The dressing-room door clicked open and Laura snatched her robe from atop the screen. She slipped it on and stepped out, concentrating on tying the sash at her waist.

“How did you do, Katie? Wasn’t it fabulous?”

Silence.

“Katie?” She looked up and the breath left her lungs on an audible breath. “Adam.”

“Hello, Laura.”

Her mouth drained dry as her heart picked up speed. With trembling hands, she gave the sash a final tug and lifted her chin. He would not see her pain—or joy—at seeing him. She swallowed. “You’re back.”

“I am.” His gaze bored into hers.

The moment stretched.

He stood in the same spot and made no move toward her, his set expression telling her nothing of why he was there or what he wanted to say. For want of something to do, she swept to her dressing table and sat, grateful for the support beneath her. Two weeks. He’d been gone two weeks, but to see him again, to see his handsome face and dark brown eyes, gripped the loss of him tighter around her heart.

Her hand trembled as she reached for a cloth and cream. She dipped the cloth into the substance. “How are you?”

His footsteps faded as he strolled to the door. Laura’s heart pounded. Was he leaving? Her body screamed with the urge to stand and run after him. She stared into the mirror at his reflection. The sound of the key turning as he locked them alone inside the room brought a rush of relief from her open mouth.

Snatching her eyes from his turned back, she lifted the cloth to her cheek and slowly swept at her makeup. Never before had she been so conscious of another human being. She sensed his approach and every nerve in her body tingled with heightened awareness. He stopped directly behind her.

The cloth slipped from her hand. She met his eyes in the mirror; they were dark, his jaw set. “I could not find you, Laura. I scoured the streets. I looked through and around London like a madman. . . . I thought I would lose my mind.”

She stiffened. “I lost mine when you walked out on me, Adam. I’ve never felt so alone.”

“I am so sorry. I could not think. I could not breathe when you told me what you did. . . . what you felt you had to do.” He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “I have missed you so much.”

She flicked out her tongue to wet her lips. “I missed you too.”

His gaze left hers and ran over her hair, then lower to her neck and shoulders. “I made the biggest mistake of my life by leaving you the way I did.” He ran his finger gently over the exposed curve of her neck and she shivered involuntarily. “I was so afraid I would never see you again.”

The deep and sincere growl of his voice lifted the hair at her crown, and traitorous longing heated her skin. She closed her eyes, trying to regain her equilibrium. She had to know what this meant. Was he back? What about London? The theater? She opened her eyes and forced herself to straighten her spine against the desire weakening her body.

“I did what I did, Adam. I don’t regret it.” She swallowed against the painful lump stuck fast in her throat. “Nothing’s changed. I can’t let you take care of me.”

“Do you love me?”

Her heart stuttered and she gripped the side of her seat. “What does it matter? We are who we are, and we’re too different.”

“Answer the question.” It was a raw, masculine demand.

She held his gaze, tears burning. “Yes.”

The silent tension hummed between them and she counted the seconds, waiting for him to walk to the door a second time. Who was to say he hadn’t confessed his love to her in London as a way of cutting her stupid heart after what he deemed to be her infidelity?

His voice sliced the silence. “Would you stand? Please.”

She stared at the stiff set of his features, lower to the tense plane of his shoulders, drawn in a perfect line across the base of his neck. “Nothing’s ch—”

“
I have
changed. Please. Will you stand and face me? I need to see you. I need to look straight into your eyes.”

Inhaling a long and shaky breath, she released her grip on her seat and stood. Slowly, with as much dignity as she could muster, she turned and stood directly in front of him.

His gaze focused on her mouth as he spoke. “I love you. I love you more than I have ever loved anything or anyone.” He lifted his eyes to hers. “If you can find it in your heart to forgive me for walking away from you, I promise I will love you for the rest of your life.” He smiled, a glint of the old Adam, the man she loved, sparked devilishly in his eyes. “Even if you are an independent and maddening woman at times.”

She fought the smile that tugged at her lips. “I’m not sure that will ever change.”

“I do not care.”

Hope burned in her stomach and mixed with the fear of losing him a second time. “You have to be certain. I can’t . . . I won’t go through the last two weeks again. Not ever.”

He closed his eyes. “I was wrong. I made a mistake. Please, Laura. I cannot live without you.” His eyes snapped open. “You are my everything.”

Her heart twisted and her resistance broke. “I love you, Adam. I love you so much.”

The power of her admission teamed with the strength of her surrender, pushed every ounce of regret, loneliness, and pessimism from her body. She felt lighter and happier than ever before.

He inched closer and dipped his head, his lips meeting hers. The passion and heat she had tampered down and ignored for the previous two weeks rose up and enveloped her soul in forgiveness. Their mouths took and their tongues tangled in a ferocious battle of ownership, love, and fear.

He tugged her robe open, revealing her naked breasts to the cool air of the room. She gasped when he roughly gripped her bosom, pain and pleasure ripping through her senses, leaving her wide open to his desires.

She grappled with his jacket, sliding it over his shoulders and releasing it. It fell to the floor behind him. Her fingers clawed with desperation at the buttons on his shirt. His mouth left hers to feed over her neck, lower to her collarbone, sucking and nipping her sensitized skin until desire tugged high between her legs.

At last, his chest was bare and she scored her fingers over his heated flesh, and relished the hard and truly masculine power of his chest and iron-hard stomach muscles.

“Adam.” His name whispered from her lips.

He dropped lower and lifted her breast to tease and suck at her nipple. Tremors flicked through her core like they only ever had with him. Calling to him. Begging him to caress her there, to bring her to the blessed liberty of an orgasm given in love and trust.

She reached for his trousers and felt the hardness of his desire through the material. With her robe pooled at her feet, his fingers slid over her waist and hip, ever closer to the place she longed for him to explore. She snapped open his trouser buttons and grappled the material over his hips and down the length of his muscled thighs.

She gripped his penis and massaged him as he massaged her. Sensations built and rolled through every inch of her body, escalating her want of him.

“I have to have you, Laura.” He growled against her ear. “Now.”

Backward they stumbled until the wall against her back stopped them. Her breaths came in harried desperation as he continued to massage her into a frenzy of lust.

“Adam, please. Please. Now.”

A dual knock at the door.

They froze. Suspended in time. Breaths slowing to audible rasps, bodies slicked with perspiration, and hearts beating fast.

“Miss Robinson?”

Victor.

Heat rushed to her face. Neither she nor Adam removed their hands from each other’s most intimate place.

“Yes?” Her voice sounded relatively calm despite the way her heart thundered.

“Is Mr. Lacey with you?” She snapped her gaze to Adam and slowly they released the other. “Yes.”

“Ah, good.” He rattled the doorknob.

Silence.

Laura looked at Adam. His eyes danced with amusement and he wiggled his eyebrows. She brought her hand to her mouth in an effort to stem the bubble of laughter threatening to erupt.

Victor cleared his throat. “Well, when you’ve finished . . . whatever it is you’re doing, I’d like to see both of you in my office.”

Laura grimaced, her eyes still locked on Adam’s. “Of course.”

“And, Adam?” Victor’s voice drifted from the other side of the door.

Adam’s smile vanished with comic rapidity. “Yes?”

Laura sniggered and dropped her head to his chest.

“That play of yours? You were right. Miss Robinson can act and act well.” The soft shuffle of Victor’s retreating footsteps receded to silence.

Slowly, half-numbed with shock, Laura lifted her head. “My God, does he mean to—”

Adam grinned. “Indeed, he does, my love. I think we’ve just found a director for my play.”

He brought his mouth down on hers and gripped her waist. The baby. She couldn’t be in his play. Not now. Not ever. Second by second, her body re-ignited and she pulled him closer. Now. She had to tell him now. His fingers drifted across her belly . . . and he froze.

He pulled back.

Her heart beat almost out of her chest; heat rose like a flame to her cheeks. Laura swallowed.
He knows.
She held his questioning stare—a stare tinged with pleasure, yet clear in its apprehension.

She swallowed. “It’s yours, Adam. You have to believe me.”

Tears glazed his eyes. “You are pregnant?”

She nodded. “Since the very first time we made love.”

“But that was months ago. Why didn’t you—”

“I wasn’t sure and then you left before I could explain.”

A tear slipped over his lower lid. “Oh, my God.”

Sickness rolled in her stomach. “You do believe it’s yours? I wouldn’t—”

“A baby.” He pulled her to him and kissed her hard. “A baby. My baby. Our baby.”

Laughing, Laura snuggled against him and took unprecedented joy in the feel of a man holding her up and making her feel she’d never have to face anything alone ever again.