To get the scoop on him. It would take some doing; he was tight-lipped. Making conversation was not in his wheelhouse. But so many other things were. Like the way he’d immediately come to her aid on the beach, how thoughtful he’d been afterward, carrying her into his house, and how deadly handsome he looked behind those wire-rimmed glasses. Oh, Mama!
She sat in a comfortable chaise chair in the open-air terrace off a kitchen a chef would dream about. Part of the terrace was shaded by an overhead balcony. Adam was seated to her right at the table. Her foot was propped on another chair. Both faced the Pacific.
The morning gloom was beginning to lift, the sun breaking through and the sound of waves hitting the shore penetrating her ears. White curtains billowed behind her as she sipped coffee from a gold-rimmed china cup. Adam knew how to live. It was all so decadent, except that Adam, for all his good looks and obvious wealth, seemed down-to-earth even if he didn’t talk about himself much. And she had to admit, her Viking warrior looked more like a beach bum in khaki shorts and a beaten-down Bruins T-shirt. But she still hadn’t found out much about him.
“So you work as a hairdresser?” he said.
“Actually, I own the shop but I don’t cut hair. I have two employees who do.” She gauged his reaction and didn’t elaborate that First Clips, her shop, catered to children. The hairdressers wore costumes and the little girls sat on princess thrones, while the boys sat in rocket ships to have their hair cut. Afterward, the newly groomed kids were rewarded with tiaras or rocket goggles. Mia was proud of their business. Anna had developed the idea and had been the main hairstylist while Mia ran the financial end of things. She had to be careful about what she revealed about First Clips. If Anna had confided in him about their business, he might connect the dots and realize Mia wasn’t exactly an innocent bystander out for a beach stroll this morning.
Mary, his sixtysomething housekeeper, approached the table and served platters of poached eggs, maple bacon, fresh biscuits and an assortment of pastries.
“Thank you,” she said. “The coffee is delicious.” Adam had brought it out from the kitchen earlier.
“Mary, this is Mia,” he said. “She had an accident on the beach this morning.”
“Oh, dear.” Mary’s kind pale blue eyes darted to her bandaged foot. “Are you all right?”
“I think I will be, thanks to Adam. I stepped on a broken bottle.”
Mary shook her head. “Those stupid kids...always hanging around after dark.” Her hand went to her mouth immediately. “Sorry. It’s just that they’re in high school and shouldn’t be drinking beer and doing who knows what else on the beach. Adam has talked about having them arrested.”
“Maybe I should,” he muttered, and she got the idea he wasn’t fully committed to the idea. “Or maybe I’ll teach them a lesson.”
“How?” Mary asked.
“I’ve got a few things bouncing around in my head.”
“Well, I wish you would,” she said, and Mia got the impression Mary had some clout in Adam’s household. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mia.”
“Nice meeting you, too.”
“Thanks, Mary. The food looks delicious,” he said. Mary retreated to the kitchen, and Adam pointed to the dishes of food. “Dig in. I know you’re hungry.” His lips twitched. When he smiled, something pinged inside her.
She fixed herself a plate of eggs and buttered a biscuit, leaving the bacon and pastries aside, while Adam filled his plate with a little of everything. “So you said you’re self-employed. What kind of work do you do?”
He slathered butter onto his biscuit. “I design things,” he said, then filled his mouth and chewed.
“What kind of things?” she pressed. The man really didn’t like talking about himself.
He shrugged. “Homes, resorts, villas.”
She bit into her eggs and leaned back, contemplating. “I bet you do a lot of traveling.”
“Not really.”
“So you’re a homebody?”
He shrugged again. “It’s not a bad thing, is it?”
“No, I’m sort of a homebody myself, actually.” Now that she was raising Rose, she didn’t have time for anything other than work and baby. It was fine by her. Her heart ached every time she thought about giving Rose up. She didn’t know if she could do it. Meeting Adam was the first step, and she almost didn’t want to take any more. Why couldn’t he have been a loser? Why couldn’t he have been a jerk? And why on earth was she so hopelessly attracted to him?
Had he been married? Did he have a harem of girlfriends? Or any nasty habits, like drugs or gambling or a sex addiction? Mia’s mind whirled with possibilities, but nothing seemed to suit him. But wasn’t that what people said about their neighbors when it was discovered they were violent terrorists or killers? “He seemed like such a nice man, quiet, kept to himself.”
Okay, so her imagination was running wild. She still didn’t know enough about Adam. She’d have to find a way to spend more time with him.
Rose was worth the trouble.
Rose was worth...everything.
* * *
“You’re not going to be able to walk back,” Adam said.
She glanced at her foot still elevated on the chair. Breakfast was over, and her heart started thumping against her chest the way it did just before panic set in. She needed more time. She hadn’t found out anything personal about Adam yet, other than he was filthy rich and truly had mad first aid skills. Her foot was feeling much better, wrapped tightly, but she hadn’t tried to get up yet. Adam had carried her to her seat on the shaded veranda.
She knew her flip-flops would flop. She couldn’t walk in them in the sand, not with the bandage on her foot.
“I don’t have a choice.”
Adam cocked his head to the side, and his lips twisted. “I have a car, you know.”
She began shaking her head. “I can’t impose on your day any more. I’ll get back on my own.”
She pulled her legs down and scooted her chair back as she rose. “You’ve already done en—” Searing jabs pricked at the ball of her foot. She clenched her teeth and keeled to the right, taking pressure off the wound. She grabbed for the table, and Adam was beside her instantly, his big hands bracing her shoulders.
“Whoa. See, I didn’t think you could walk.”
“I, uh.” Her shoulders fell. “Maybe you’re right.”
And for the third time today, she was lifted up in Adam’s strong arms. He’d excused himself while Mary was cooking breakfast and taken a quick shower and now his scent wafted to her nose—a strong, clean, entirely too sexy smell that floated all around her.
“This is getting to be a habit,” she said softly.
He made a quick adjustment, tucking her gently in again, and gave her a glance. “It’s necessary.”
“And you always do what’s necessary?”
“I try to.”
He began walking, then stopped and bent his body so she could grab her turquoise flip-flops off the kitchen counter. “Got them?”
“I got them.”
“Hang on.”
She