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‘Looks like it.’ He turned and placed a mug into each of their hands without asking Roane if she wanted anything. ‘Add what you need—it’s all on the counter.’
Then he caught her gaze for a moment, a knowing light sparkling in the stunning green-flecked brown of his eyes. ‘Morning, Roane.’
Suddenly she knew who he was. ‘Adam?’
While Jake moved over to the kitchen table Adam smiled lazily, lowering his head to whisper, ‘Now she remembers me.’
Before Roane could say anything in reply, he turned away and slid onto the curved bench facing his brother. ‘The detective agency was a bit much, don’t you think?’
Jake shrugged. ‘It wasn’t like you sent Christmas cards every year so we’d know how to reach you.’
‘And there was possibly a reason for that…’
Jake pursed his lips as Roane slid onto the bench beside him, immediately feeling the need to ease the tension by teasing him. ‘You hired a detective agency to find him? You didn’t mention that. Was he a raincoat-wearing private-eye type?’
Jake smiled. ‘No; I was disappointed actually.’
‘If you’d told me we could have searched for one. It would have been much more fun.’ She smiled back at him. But a part of her was hurt he hadn’t told her he was searching for Adam. It was a huge deal. She could remember a time in their lives when they’d talked about everything and anything.
When she glanced across the table she found the prodigal Bryant lounging casually, one long arm slung along the back of the wooden bench while sunshine glowed off the deep tan on his skin. But the nonchalance was a façade, wasn’t it? Roane could feel the intensity in him while his impossibly thick lashes flickered as he studied the interaction across the table.
His gaze crashed into hers for the space of two heartbeats and Roane felt her breath hitch. How did he do that with just a look?
He turned his attention to Jake. ‘How bad is he?’
‘He has good days and bad.’ Jake leaned forwards, cupping his mug between his hands and idly turning it while he spoke. ‘We try to keep him to a routine; that helps.’
Roane’s voice softened. ‘He’ll be glad to see you.’
Adam glanced briefly at her again, then back to Jake. ‘Lucid?’
‘Short-term memory loss initially—confused some days; angry, prone to mood swings—’
Adam’s mouth twisted wryly as he turned his profile to them and looked outside. ‘Not much change, then…’
Jake didn’t smile. ‘Still Dad, yes. But it’s only a matter of time before we’re looking at language breakdown, long term memory loss and a general withdrawal as his senses decline. Once diagnosed they give them an average life expectancy of seven years. And they diagnosed him two years ago. So if you want to make your peace you’d best make it now.’
Roane frowned when Adam didn’t respond. Surely he wouldn’t have come home if he hadn’t intended to make his peace with his father before it was too late? She knew very little about why he’d left, but then Adam had been an enigma long before that. When he’d left she had barely been fifteen, Jake a year older—and they’d been thick as thieves. But the rebellious Adam had been twenty-one. Six years wasn’t that big a gap for adults, but back then it had seemed like a lot more. Adam had been a young man, and a deeply unhappy one at that. He hadn’t wanted to spend time hanging round with two carefree teenagers during their endless halcyon summers.
Jake pushed again. ‘If you want to look the business over before you make any decisions, then—’
‘There’s a hurry, is there?’
God, he was so cold! Roane felt a chill run down her spine, fighting the need to shiver at his reaction while he calmly lifted his mug to his mouth. If he didn’t give a damn why had he come home at all? Why not stay as lost to his family as he’d been for the last twelve years?
‘Yes,’ Jake informed him.
Roane blinked at her friend. What was going on?
Adam apparently knew. ‘Gonna buy me out, are you?’
‘If I have to.’ Jake nodded once.
Roane leaned her elbow on the arm of the wooden bench and rested her forefinger along the side of her face, hiding her mouth behind the rest of her fingers. Adam Bryant might be pretty amazing to look at, but he wasn’t much of a personality, was he? Didn’t he feel the least bit guilty that he’d left everything on his younger brother’s shoulders? She might not know much, but she knew Jake had been tense of late, preoccupied, older somehow… Running the Bryant empire alone had been taking its toll.
As if he could sense her disapproval, Adam’s gaze flickered briefly towards her again, then back to Jake just as fast. Frankly it was starting to bug Roane. It felt as if he was dismissing her presence—as if he didn’t feel she should even be there. But if Jake thought that he wouldn’t have brought her in with him, would he? With the benefit of hindsight, she knew he’d probably felt the need for moral support.
‘I’ll take a look at the figures,’ Adam told Jake.
‘There’s a board meeting at three in Manhattan. Roane can fly you in, can’t you, Ro?’
Did she have to? She smiled. ‘’Course I can.’
Adam didn’t look at her. ‘I’ll drive.’
‘It’s at least five and a half hours by road—you’d need to leave in an hour,’ Roane pointed out. ‘It’s less than two hours by air; you wouldn’t have to leave til noon. I’m sure you’ll want to spend time with your dad before you go…’
When he looked at her again she quirked her brows. Not that it had any effect on him. Instead he held her gaze steadily, as if to prove he could having spent so little time looking her directly in the eye.
‘You fly?’
‘Yes.’ Silently she willed him to make a comment about it being a step up from the chauffeur-cum-handyman position her father had held for most of his life.
He didn’t. Instead he took a deep breath that expanded the material of his dark green T-shirt while his gaze shifted back to Jake. ‘When’s the next board meeting?’
‘Two weeks.’
‘Right.’ Adam looked out the windows, his jaw tensing while he thought, eyes narrowed against the bright light. Then he nodded briefly. ‘Fine. I’ll fly.’
Roane lowered her hand and looked at Jake. ‘I’ll book the slot. You coming?’
‘No, I’ll go ahead. I already have a slot.’
Which meant she got to fly down with Adam on her own. Fantastic. That should make for a chatty flight. Roane couldn’t remember ever spending time in close proximity to someone she found so intensely physically attractive yet didn’t like at the same time.
Jake nudged her to indicate he wanted to slide out. ‘I’ll take Adam over to the house.’
‘I remember the way.’
Roane pursed her lips at Adam’s reply as she slid off the bench and walked to the sink to toss her untouched coffee away, Jake’s voice calm behind her.
‘I’m going over anyway.’
When he joined her at the sink she looked up at him, mouthing a concerned You okay?
He winked and mouthed back, Fine.
Automatically she took his mug and rinsed it out after she’d done her own, adding a plate and a couple of pieces of cultery that were lying on the side too and not noticing Jake had moved away until she turned—and walked straight into the solid wall of Adam’s chest. One large hand shot up to grasp her elbow as she staggered back, her spine bumping the edge of the counter as she looked down at his hand with wide eyes.
Because it was like being touched by a live wire.
A spark of electricity shot up her arm, under her skin and into her veins where it picked up speed with the rapid beat of her heart. The tingling then radiated outwards, licking over her bare shoulder and down over her chest where her nipples beaded into tight buds against the lace of her bra.
Adam let go so suddenly her gaze shot upwards.
When his eyes narrowed an almost imperceptible amount Roane blinked at him. He’d felt that? What in the name of heaven was that anyway? It couldn’t even be put down to static electricity—not when it was bare skin touching bare skin. Could it? Science had never been her thing, after all.
‘Ro? You coming?’ Jake’s familiar voice sounded from the open doorway.
‘Mmm-hmm, yeah.’ She frowned as she stepped around Adam, absent-mindedly rubbing where he had touched her as if to remove an invisible mark.
Adam took a half step in her direction so that her shoulder brushed his upper arm, the rumble of his voice low and steeped with innuendo.
‘Be seeing you. Little girl.’
She stopped and smiled sugary sweet. ‘How long did you say you were staying?’
‘I didn’t.’
A quick glance at the doorway showed that Jake had already stepped outside. Suddenly Roane felt edgy without him there. Her hesitation didn’t help either, because when she looked up at Adam it was in time to see he’d noticed the same thing.
‘Finally caught him, did you?’
What? She gaped when she realized what he meant, ‘I wasn’t ever—’ She frowned at the sudden need to defend herself. ‘My relationship with Jake is none of your business.’
When she stepped away he reached out and grabbed her wrist, lifting her hand to study it. ‘No ring.’
Roane tugged her arm. ‘Let go.’
He held on. ‘How come?’
Not that she had all that much experience with men, but Roane had never met such a Neanderthal. For goodness’ sake, the man practically grunted a conversation!
She tugged again, harder this time, determined not to pay attention to the low thrumming of awareness in her abdomen. ‘That’s still none of your business.’
Adam repositioned his fingers, his gaze studying her wrist for a moment before he looked sideways at her and a smile began to play with the corners of his mouth. The way the green in his eyes had darkened, the way that half a smile was forming—it threw rational thought clean out of her head. Until she realized what he was smiling about…
He’d just felt her pulse jumping about in her wrist. He knew what he was doing to her disobedient body. More than that—he was pleased about it! The arrogant great—
Adam let go.
So Roane did the mature thing and practically ran from the room. Let him go right ahead and think she was with Jake if he wanted to. It made her reaction to Adam even worse than it already was, but at least she wouldn’t have to deal with it, because surely he wouldn’t make a pass at his brother’s girlfriend?
Cowardly, the voice said inside her head, using Jake as some kind of protective shield. But she ignored it. Caveman had never done it for her before, and it sure as heck wasn’t starting to now.
Even if Adam Bryant looked like the kind of bad news every girl secretly dreamed of finding.
CHAPTER TWO
‘MVY TOWER…MERIDIAN five eight nin-er two November ready to taxi with mike…right turnout southeast bound.’
Only when they were cruising at five and a half thousand feet did Roane truly experience all that she loved best about flying: serenity, control and exhilaration. All around them were blue skies, below them the mirrored aquamarine of the ocean. Things were so calm she could have switched to autopilot. But that would have left time for conversation with her passenger, and it was bad enough he’d got in the cockpit instead of sitting in back where she could have pretended he wasn’t there. So she didn’t.
Unable to resist, she glanced to her side and noticed long fingers tapping restlessly against the taut trouser-clad thigh that was moving to the rhythm of a bouncing heel. An errant smile immediately blossomed in her chest as the realization hit her.
‘Not that good a flier, huh?’
When she bit down on her lower lip to control the smile Adam frowned. ‘I’m good. Thanks.’
‘Mmm-hmm.’ She nodded, letting his sarcastic ‘thanks’ roll over her head. ‘The tapping foot is a sure sign of relaxation.’
The tapping of his foot abruptly stopped, long fingers curling into a fist. His knuckles were just white enough for Roane to suspect he was forcibly keeping his leg still. It was the first time since she’d met him on the beach that she’d felt she had the upper hand—it was empowering, especially considering every time she laid eyes on him her hormones seemed to go into overdrive. When he’d turned up at the airport she’d surreptitiously rolled her eyes at how good he looked in a dark suit. One glance at him and every part of her that had ever been attracted to intelligence and wit and congeniality went straight to hell. Apparently to be replaced with a cell-deep genetic need to mate with the strongest of the species for the sake of the human race…
But his reaction to being in the air meant her pilot’s conscience insisted she make small talk to help take his mind off it. Sometimes Roane truly wished she had a meaner streak.
‘Clear skies from here to New York; we won’t even hit turbulence. Honest.’
‘Right.’
Roane studied his tense profile, then took a breath and decided to throw caution to the wind and just say what she thought. ‘You’re not much of a talker, are you?’
Adam’s reply was so low she mightn’t have heard it if they weren’t wearing mikes to go with the matching head sets. ‘The secret of being boring is to say everything.’
Roane stared at him in amazement. He couldn’t be serious. ‘And where did we pick up that excuse?’
‘Voltaire.’
Her brows lifted. ‘Quote of the day?’
The vaguest hint of a smile appeared. ‘No.’
Well, that went well. If Roane didn’t know better she’d have said he was enigmatic on purpose. But before she could steer the conversation in a direction where she might glean some insight, Adam exhaled loudly and leaned back into his seat, his chin dropping as he studied the array of dials and readouts.
‘Tell me how it works.’
He wanted a flying lesson? In Roane’s experience it wasn’t how people who were afraid of flying tended to react. Maybe he meant the theory of it? Okay—she could do the basic theory of it.
‘One sec.’ She engaged the autopilot and leaned back, turning and folding her arms across her breasts. ‘It’s flying itself now. But if the ground suddenly starts looking bigger, yell.’
‘Funny,’ Adam said dryly.
‘Let’s see.’ Roane considered the ceiling for a moment, starting with something she’d read somewhere. ‘Basically it all centres around Newton’s idea that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.’
Then she ad-libbed, warming to her subject, ‘So you know when you let go of an inflated balloon and it flies all over the room? That’s kinda like thrust in an airplane engine; it propels the plane into the air…’ Unfolding an arm, she made a sweep with one hand to highlight the ‘plane into the air’ part; quite pleased with the analogy until she found him studying her with hooded eyes.
His deep voice held an edge of barely concealed disgust. ‘When did you decide I was an idiot?’
Finding her mouth dry, Roane swallowed before coming back with a pathetically weak-voiced, ‘Short Neanderthal grunted answers might possibly have done it.’
