The Tycoon's Temporary Bride: Book Four (6 page)

“Thank you,” she said, her voice cracking as
she gazed up at him with liquid emerald eyes.

Adam smiled down at her, then reaching out,
he traced a knuckle along one cheek, wiping at the tear that had
slid from the corner of her eye. Her skin was soft and silky. She
had lost weight since the last time he’d seen her. She looked so
small, frail, helpless, and alone. “I’m glad you called me.”

Their eyes locked. He’d seen her naked and
had bathed the most intimate parts of her body, taken care of her
woman’s monthly business, yet it seemed to Adam that there wasn’t
an ounce of embarrassment on her side, and definitely not a shred
of lust on his. It were as if they were old acquainted souls who
already knew each other’s secrets, wants, and needs in every
possible form, who’d witnessed the best and worst of each other,
and were still…

A sharp pain pierced Adam’s heart and a lump
lodged in his throat.

He was paralyzed for a moment, then he turned
away abruptly, shaking off that invisible seize on his heart. He
took the tub to the bathroom, flushed her bathwater down the
toilet, and then soaped and washed his hands thoroughly. He took a
clean face towel from a shelf over the toilet and soaked it with
cold water. “This will help with the fever,” he said, placing it on
her forehead. “Where’re your keys?”

“Living… Uh…Uh….room...”

Adam’s heart twisted with pain as he watched
her writhe in his arms. It was all he could do to hold back the
tears from his eyes. He’d never witnessed anything like this
before, and quite frankly, it scared the hell out of him.

“Here we go,” he said when she lay shivering
in his arms. He scooped her up inside the sheet, and pushed to his
feet. She was so light, he felt like he was carrying a young child
in his arms.

On his way to the front door, he grabbed her
keys from the coffee table, and lingered when he saw her opened
backpack on a corner of the sofa. A laptop, a camera, and her
wallet were inside it. Remembering that he’d seen her carrying it
the day they met, he figured she used it in place of a purse. He
zippered it with one hand and slung it over his shoulder.

He locked her dead bolts and descended the
porch stairs as quickly and carefully as he could. He laid her on
the backseat of his Aston Martin and tucked the sheet around her.
He’d love to put her up front beside him, but knew she’d be more
comfortable in the back where she could stretch out. He buckled her
in and then got behind the wheel. If he hurried, he’d have enough
time to give her a quick bath before Erik got there.

“You’ll be feeling better soon, Tashi,” he
said, as she groaned in pain again. He called Erik and asked him to
meet him at the Andreas estate, equipped to treat a young woman
with a fever and a severe case of food poisoning—perhaps
salmonella.

He couldn’t answer Erik’s litany of questions
about the identity and family history of the young woman. He knew
nothing about Tashi, except for the fact that she needed him
tonight.

As Adam sped along Route 80 and made his way
northwest toward Mount Reservoir, he wondered who Tashi would have
called if they hadn’t bumped into each other at Mountainview Café,
three days ago. Didn’t she have a job, coworkers, friends, family,
or a neighbor she could have called? A boyfriend? Girls her age
usually had boyfriends.

Why was she so alone in this world that she
had to call a total stranger whose private phone number she didn’t
even have?

There are no coincidences in life
, his
now deceased friend, Michael Rogers, used to say. The prophetic
truth in those words had rung true in the professional areas of
Adam’s life. In the past few years since his parents moved back to
Italy and gave him absolute control of the family business, he’d
been able to expand Andreas International at an alarming rate
because of the people and connections he’d made along the way.

But never had the divine power in those words
affected the personal aspect of his life until now, Adam realized.
He was supposed to have taken Tiffany two days before, but her
Uncle Robert had made an unexpected visit to Granite Falls to spend
some time with her and her siblings, thus changing Adam’s date day
with his goddaughter. Then if Tiffany had been her usual perky self
instead of sleeping the morning away, he would not have cut their
date short and taken her to the café and her grandmother so early
on that fated day. They would still have been at the petting zoo,
and he and Tashi’s paths would never have crossed.

It was as if the blueprint for every single
event of that day had been carved in stone eons ago, and then set
in motion two years ago when Lillian and Felicia had discussed
buying out Mountainview Café with their sons. Neither Bryce nor
Erik had thought it a good idea. It was too close to the wrong part
of town. They didn’t see the financial benefits of owning it. And
they were worried about their mothers’ safety on a daily basis. The
café had been held up four times in the past two years—the main
reason the previous owner had put it on the market.

But Lillian and Felicia were determined to
own a café and beauty salon together. They had purchased it, along
with the adjoining pawnshop, torn down the buildings and erected a
beautiful structure—one half café and the other half beauty salon.
To ease their sons’ fears, they’d hired a team of 24/7 security
guards. Two were always on the premises during hours of operation.
Mountainview Café and Hair Salon had become a flourishing business
where the once-divided social classes of Granite Falls now
mingled.

The prices were just right for the poor, and
the delicious delicacies from the bakery, along with the remarkable
hairstyles Lillian whipped together were just right for the
rich.

It was the perfect place for a billionaire to
literally run into a poor damsel in distress.

No coincidences
.
Everyone is simply
following the path they’ve been predestined to travel.
If
Felicia and Lillian hadn’t followed their dreams, and if Robert
hadn’t made a surprise visit to Granite Falls when he did, he and
Tashi might never have met, and she would not have called his hotel
tonight looking for him.

Every person we meet comes into our lives
for mutual and specific reasons and benefits
—another of
Michael’s profound truisms. Tonight, he was saving Tashi’s
life—
his
specific reason for meeting her,
her
benefit
for meeting him. What was
her
specific reason for meeting
him,
his
benefit for meeting her? What would,
could
she ever do for him?

As he pulled his car to a stop in the
courtyard of his home, Adam realized that he might never know the
answers to those questions since he was planning on setting Tashi
Holland loose the moment she was feeling better.

This serendipitous liaison between them, this
intimate, yet nonsexual relationship was as temporary as his sexual
ones. And speaking of sex, or the lack thereof, it was time he
began looking for another temporary playmate, one he knew without a
doubt he’d have no trouble walking away from once the relationship
had run its course. He needed someone to help put distance between
him and Tashi Holland before his heart and soul became engaged.

Sadie was right. Balance was safe, and
imbalance torment. His scale wasn’t tipped to the point of toppling
over yet, and at this stage, he’d rather be safe than relive the
pain Claire and Denise had caused him.

Happily Ever After wasn’t for him. Temporary
was working just fine.

They were in a tub of cool water, yet the
heat from his body was so intense it seemed to scorch her skin from
her bones. Or was it her skin that was generating the flames that
seemed to fuse their naked bodies together in the scented bubbly
liquid?

The water was all the way up to her chin,
but she had no fear of drowning because the man sitting behind her,
cradling her between his muscular thighs had a secure grip on her
lower body.

He was scooping water up with a container
and pouring it over her head, then he was massaging her scalp,
running his fingers through her hair while he spoke to her in a
soothing voice, telling her that everything would be all right,
that she was safe, and that he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.

He washed her tenderly like a mother washes
her newborn infant, passing a soft washcloth across her back, up
along her neck and throat, over the mounds of her breasts, then
beneath them. His fingers and the cloth trailed across her chest
and her stomach, lower and lower he washed until the cloth brushed
between her thighs sending shock waves rushing through her.

“
You’ve been sold to an Arabian Sheikh.
They’re shipping you out tonight. You’ve been sold… Sold… Sold...
Sheik…. Sold… S…”

“
No. No.” She struggled against him,
fighting to disconnect her body from his. “Let me go. Please let me
go.” She tried to stand up, to get out of the tub.

“
It’s okay, Tashi. It’s okay. It’s me,
Adam. You’re safe, dear one. I’m just giving you a bath. Relax,
baby. Just relax...”

His voice was like a cascading waterfall,
deep and soothing, bringing her back, or pushing her forward—she
didn’t know. She closed her eyes and settled back down, allowing
her body to relax into his.

“
There, there,” he murmured. “It’ll all be
over soon.”

The distant sound of a deep male voice
brought Tashi awake. She lay still, her heart racing in her chest
as she tried to get a perspective on her surroundings. Turning over
onto her back, she opened her eyes and took a panoramic look
around.

The room was enormous and everything was
white—the walls, the chandeliers extending on silken cords from a
vaulted, white tray ceiling that seemed as far away as the sky, the
floor-to-ceiling drapes that had been drawn to shade the room, the
sofas and chairs scattered about on a white carpet, and the white
marble fireplace on a far wall.

Frowning, she narrowed her range of vision.
She was lying on a soft mattress covered with white sheets. The
padded headboard and footboard of the bed were upholstered with a
white silky material that matched the intricate designs of the
fluffy white comforter spread over her. Lifting the comforter,
Tashi noted that she was wearing a white satin nightgown and
panties—items of clothing she’d never seen before.

Was she in heaven? Had she died and gone to
heaven?

“No,” she whispered as the desire to pee, and
a dull ache on the backs of her hands alerted her to the fact that
she was still mortal. Her uncle used to take her to church, and
according to the minister, there was no pain or peeing in heaven.
Well, he didn’t actually say that one didn’t pee, but she’d gotten
the gist of his account of what it meant to be an immortal soul
living in heaven.

She glanced toward the left side of the room
where a wide archway opened up onto a white marble floor and walls.
Bathroom.
Throwing back the covers, Tashi tried to raise
herself up, but immediately fell back against the pillows. The room
seemed to spin around her. She let out a soft moan and was trying
to gather her strength for a second attempt when she heard a noise
like a chair being pushed along the floor. She cocked her ears. The
voice she’d heard earlier had stopped, but the sound of heavy
footsteps approaching made her pulse quicken.

Burrowing down, Tashi pulled the covers up to
her chin and lay very still as the footsteps grew closer, then
stopped. Peering through one eye, she glanced at the door on the
right side of the room. When she recognized the magnificent figure
of the man standing in the doorway, it all came back to her.

She’d been sick for three days. She’d called
Adam. He’d come to her aid and brought her back to his home. His
friend, Dr. LaCrosse, had examined her while asking her a bunch of
questions about what she’d eaten before and since she got sick.
He’d asked her about her medical history: how much she normally
weighed, if she had any allergies, were there any chronic diseases
in her family history, could she be pregnant, and so on. He’d
checked her temperature, and then he’d set up an intravenous line.
He’d said it was to help her sleep, ease her cramps, bring down her
fever, build up her strength, and keep her hydrated.

He’d worked very swiftly, giving Adam orders
on how to help. After she was hooked up, the doctor and Adam had
left the room talking in hushed voices. Tashi had lain in bed,
watching the liquid drip from the sacks hanging on a metal hook at
the side of the bed. Soon the medicine was coursing through her
veins, working its magic on her. Her cramps had stopped, or maybe
she just couldn’t feel them, and as she’d drifted off to sleep,
Tashi remembered Adam lying next to her, his comforting arms
holding her tight through the night.

She mildly remembered him waking her up
several times to carry her to the bathroom, rolling the metal hook
with her bags of sustenance beside him. She’d gone back to sleep
each time, and then he was waking her again. The needles in the
backs of her hands were gone and so were her bags. More than once,
Adam had propped her up against the comfy headboard and spoon-fed
her something warm and tasty then encouraged her to sip something
sweet from a glass, and a lot of water. He’d brushed her teeth
after each meal.

As she watched him now, standing in the
doorway, his handsome face kindled with a sort of passionate
beauty, something fluttered around in Tashi’s belly. It wasn’t
hunger. It wasn’t cramps. It was the same sensation she’d
experienced when she’d bumped into him in the café. Her body had
come alive, as it was now…curious about him and confused about the
way he made it feel.