“I had this idea when I was designing the house and it wouldn’t leave me alone. I had to see it through.”
Score one for his perseverance.
“I don’t know much about great works of art, but this gallery is amazing. Are you an art junkie?” she asked.
“More like I appreciate beauty. In all forms.” His eyes touched over her face, admiring, measuring and thoughtful. Heat prickled at the back of her neck. If he was paying her a compliment, she wouldn’t acknowledge it verbally. She couldn’t help it if having a gorgeous man hold her in her arms and whisper sweet words in her ear made her bead up with sweat. But she wasn’t here to flirt, fawn or fantasize. She needed to finesse answers out of him. Period.
He stepped onto the platform that housed the car and opened the passenger door of the Rolls-Royce. “What are you doing?”
“Taking you home.”
“In this? How? I mean, the car’s a part of your gallery. And in case you haven’t noticed, there’s no garage door anywhere.” She double-checked her surroundings. No, she wasn’t mistaken. But just in case the bat cave had secret walls, she asked, “Is there?”
“No, no garage door, but an elevator.”
Again her gaze circled the room. “Where?”
“We’re standing on it. Now let me get you into the car.”
Buttery leather seats cushioned her bottom as he lowered her into the Rolls, his beautiful Nordic face inches from her. The scent of him surrounded her in a halo of arousing aroma. Her breath hitched, she hoped silently. Mia, stop drooling.
“Can you manage the seat belt?” he asked.
Her foot was all bandaged up, not her hands, but still a fleeting thought touched her mind of Adam gently tucking her into the seat belt. “Of course.”
He backed away and came around to the other end of the car and climbed in. “Ready?”
“For?”
“Don’t be alarmed. We’re going to start moving down.”
He pressed a few buttons, and noises that sounded like a plane’s landing gear opening up, filled the room. Mia had a faint notion that they were going to take off somehow. But then the platform began a slow and easy descent as the main floor of Adam’s house began to disappear. Grandma Tess would call it an “E” ticket ride.
She looked up and the ceiling was closing again, kind of like the Superdome. Adam’s gallery had a replacement floor. If he designed this, he was certainly an architectural and mechanical genius.
Score one more for Adam Chase.
Smooth as glass, they landed in a garage on the street level. More noises erupted, she imagined to secure the car elevator onto the ground floor. Inside the spacious garage, three other cars were parked. “Were these cars out of gas?” she asked.
A chuckle rumbled from his throat. “I thought this would be fastest and easier for you. And to be honest, it’s been a while since I’ve taken the Rolls out.”
She liked honesty, but surely he wasn’t trying to impress her? He’d already done that the second he’d strode out of the ocean and come to her aid.
A Jag, an all-terrain Jeep and a little sports car were outdone by the Rolls, yet she wouldn’t turn any one of them down if offered. “So, are you a car fanatic?”
He revved the engine and pressed the remote control. The garage door opened, and sunshine poured in. “So many questions, Mia. Just sit back, stretch out your leg and enjoy the ride.”
What choice did she have? Adam clearly didn’t like talking about himself. Anna’s dying words rang in her head and seized her heart. Clutching her sister’s hand, her plea had been weak but so determined. “Adam Chase, the baby’s real father. Architect. One night...that’s all I know. Find him.”
Anna had been more adventurous than Mia, but now she understood why she’d known little about the man who’d fathered her child. Anna had probably done most of the talking. It had been during the lowest part of her sister’s life, when she thought she’d lost Edward forever. Maybe neither one of them had done much talking.
She glanced at Adam’s profile as he put the car in gear, his wrist resting on the steering wheel. Chiseled cheekbones, thoughtful gray eyes, strong jaw. His hair, kissed by the sun, was cropped short and straight. No rings on his fingers. Again, she wondered if he had a girlfriend or three. Everything about him, his house, his cars, his good looks, screamed babe magnet, yet oddly, her gut was telling her something different, something she couldn’t put her finger on. And that’s why she had to find a way to delay her departure. She didn’t have enough to go on. She certainly couldn’t turn her sweet-cheeked baby Rose over to him. Not yet.
He might not even want her.
Perish the thought. Who wouldn’t want that beautiful baby?
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” he asked. “You can have someone pick up your car later if you can’t drive comfortably.”
“Oh no. Please. Just drive me to my car. It’s not that far, and I’m sure I can drive.”
Adam took his eyes off the road and turned to her. “Okay, if you’re sure.” He didn’t seem convinced.
“My foot’s feeling better already. I’m sure.”
He nodded and sighed, turning his attention back to the road.
“How far?”
“I’m parked at lifeguard station number three.”
“Got it.”
It was less than a mile, and she kept her focus on the glossy waters of Moonlight Beach as he drove the rest of the way in silence. Too soon, they entered the parking lot. “There’s my car.” She pointed to her white Toyota Camry. He pulled up next to it. The Rolls looked out of place in a parking lot full of soccer-mom vans and family sedans. A mustard-yellow school bus was unloading a gaggle of giggling children.
“Hang on,” he said. “I’ll get your gear. Just show me where it is on the beach.”
Whoops. She’d lied about that. She didn’t have so much as a beach towel on the sand. Blinking, she stalled for time. “Oh, I guess I forgot. I must have put everything in my trunk before I took my walk.”
Adam didn’t seem fazed, and she sighed, relieved. He climbed out of the car, jaunted around the front end of the Rolls and stopped on the passenger side. She opened the car door, and he was there, ready to help her out.
His hands were on her again, lifting her, and a warm jolt catapulted down to her belly. She’d never felt anything quite like it before, this fuzzy don’t-stop-touching-me kind of sensation that rattled her brain and melted her insides.
He set her down, and she put weight on her foot. “I’m okay,” she said, gazing into eyes softened by concern.
“You’re sure?”
“If you can just help me to my car, I’ll be fine.”
He wrapped his arm around her waist, and there it was again—warm, gooey sensations swimming through her body. She half hopped, half walked as he carefully guided her to the driver’s side of the car.
“Your keys?” he asked.
She dug her hand into the front pocket of her shorts and came up with her car key. “Right here.”
He stared at her. “Well, then. You’re set.”
“Yes.”
Neither one of them moved. Not a muscle. Not a twitch.
Around them noises of an awakening