3 comments/ 7237 views/ 1 favorites Cilla and Adam Ch. 01 By: DawnJ Reverend Barnes took his place on the podium with the other ministers, and his family sat in their usual pew on the right of the altar. Cilla had always loved going to church, and the music had always soothed the place inside her that remained scared and lonely, no matter how happy she appeared to be. Today, as she listened to the choir sing, and as she joined with the congregation in singing the sweet old hymns, her spirit soared, and she felt at peace for the first time in a long time. All too soon, it was time to go. She found herself being hugged by a number of family friends she hadn't seen for a long time, including Andrew Sayers, who had once proposed to her. She looked into his face and recognized the affection he still had for her. She sighed, and smiled at him, letting him kiss her cheek. "You look a bit under the weather, Priscilla," he said. His hand was warm around her shoulder as they strolled together out of the church. "Are you all right?" "I'm just getting over the flu, Andy. I'll be fine. Thanks for asking." Suddenly he stopped. Cilla looked enquiringly across at him, and he said, "I wish I knew what to do to make you love me." He bent his head and kissed her cheek again before she could move away, and she saw regret in his eyes. "We agreed we wouldn't talk about this again, Andy," she reminded him, gently scolding. "I love you like a friend, but that's all. Stop looking at me that way, please." Andrew withdrew his arm, and smiled ruefully at her. "Sorry, Priscilla. It's just that every time I see you, I feel the loss again." "You cannot lose what you never had, Andy," she said calmly. "Now, look at Emily over there, dying for you to come over and make her day." Andrew followed her eyes to where a short, thin young woman, blessed by God with luscious lips and breasts, stood looking their way, trying not to appear to be staring. "Go on, Andy," Cilla urged him. "There will never be anything with me. Why not see where that road leads you? You know what they say -- nothing ventured..." "...nothing gained," he finished. "Okay, friend." He smiled at her as he walked away toward Emily, whose eyes lit up when she saw him approach. Cilla smiled and turned away. "You just love setting people up, don't you?" Penny asked behind her. "Emily's been making doe eyes at Andy for more than three months now, yet he needed you to help him see it." "Hey, he was getting nowhere fast with me," Cilla said laughingly. "Yeah," Penny agreed, "and now that there's sexy Mr. Dalgleish..." Her words trailed off. "It's Dr. Dalgleish, actually," Cilla corrected her, "though what he has to do with anything escapes me." "Yeah, right!" Penny said disbelievingly. The girls finally made their way back to the car, and as they drove off, Reverend Barnes asked, "Honey, are you up to eating out today?" He looked at Cilla as he spoke. "Only if Mama is okay with it," she answered, looking at her mother. "I haven't cooked anything today, dear," Patricia said. "I was a little late getting up this morning. Breakfast was all I could manage." Cilla wondered why her mother's cheeks were suddenly pink, as she intercepted the look that passed between her parents, and when she saw the smirk on Penny's face, comprehension dawned. She felt her own startled eyes move back to her parents, and she looked back at Penny, who laughed silently. She swallowed the nagging feeling of dismay at her own state -- no man, no love, no hope of sex. They ate at a favorite family restaurant, where the manager, who knew them well, managed to rustle up some chicken soup for Cilla. It was late afternoon before they got home again, and Cilla was feeling the need for a nap. She was slipping into clean, warm sweats when the phone rang. After the third ring, she picked up the receiver, and was startled to hear Adam Dalgleish's voice on the other end of the line. "Good afternoon, Cilla!" he greeted her, his voice warm and exciting to her delighted ears. "Dr. Dalgleish!" she said in surprise. When he didn't reply, she said again, "Hello?" "What's my name, Cilla?" he asked, his voice silky, with a note she could not identify. "Oh... sorry! Adam," she said reluctantly. "I thought I was supposed to call you back." There was another long silence before he replied, "I tried calling earlier but no one was home." His voice held a question. "We went to church, and then went out for a late lunch," she explained. "How do you feel today? You sound much better." "I am much better, thanks. Just a bad cough now. But I'll be in tomorrow," she hastened to reassure him. She didn't want him to think she was a shirker. "May I come over to discuss your presentation with you? I assume you will do the November session?" "Oh, certainly," Cilla said. "I haven't been able to concentrate fully on anything this weekend, but I'll do it if you think I can manage it," she added, deciding honesty was better than subterfuge. "But why do we need to start working on it today?" "We don't," Adam conceded after a long silence. "I want to see you again," he admitted finally, pausing again, while Cilla felt her heart pounding in her chest. "I won't be back in your building before the end of next week," he added, as though it explained his feelings. Cilla did not know what to say. She knew she wanted to see him, too, every day if she could, but a part of her was glad it wouldn't happen. She had to protect herself from him, in case he was merely trifling with her. "So. May I come over for an hour or so later?' he asked, startling her considerably. "Ah...I guess so," she said finally, uncertainty in her voice. "I won't come if you don't want me to," he said, his voice suddenly cool and aloof. Cilla sighed. "I'd like to see you again, too," she admitted. She heard his deep intake of air. "What time?" he asked, his voice warm again. "Maybe after supper," she said. "About seven." "See you then, Cilla," he said, something in the way he said her name turning her knees to jelly. She felt as though he had stroked her, had kissed her. Cilla hung up the phone and sank onto the bed. Penny had already gone, having remembered that she had work to do for tomorrow and asking for a rain check on their outfit choosing date. Her parents were taking their afternoon nap on the back porch. She was, for all intents and purposes, alone. Suddenly she could not sit still. She took up the binder with the work she had begun the day before and tried to finish her lesson plan. It was a struggle, but she managed to have something planned. She knew she needed to plan the units, but that would have to wait until she was completely herself again. By five o'clock, she was on pins and needles, knowing that Adam Dalgleish would soon be in her living room. Should she have him there, or in the study? Or maybe the sitting room off the back porch? Oh, what did it matter where he was? He'd be in her parents' house! She jumped when her mother knocked on her door and stuck her head around it. "Your dad and I have a long standing date with the Olivers for this evening. Will you be all right if we leave around sixish? I'll leave supper for you on the stove, and if we borrow your cell phone, you can call us if something goes wrong." "Sure, Mama, go ahead. I really do feel much better. Anyway, I'm expecting a visitor at around seven. My boss wants to check up on me." Patricia Barnes looked keenly at her daughter, and then said, "Are you sure? I can always stay home." "I'm sure, Mama," she said. "Go ahead and have fun. And say hello to the Olivers for me. I haven't seen them in years!" At six twenty, Cilla watched her parents drive away, and she turned back into the living room. She had decided that it was probably the safest place to be with Adam, and so she had brought her knapsack downstairs, and was working on the first of four unit plans when the doorbell rang. She looked down at the faded blue jeans and thick red sweater she had changed into and hoped she looked okay. "Hi," she said, opening the door to Adam. "Come in!" She stepped aside for him to enter, and closed the door behind them. "Have a seat, please," she invited him as they walked into the living room, and watched as he sank into the overstuffed leather armchair across from where she was sitting. His broad shoulders filled the space between the wings of the chair, the deep blue sweater he wore accentuating the muscular expanse of his chest and shoulders and deepening the blue of his eyes. She sat down, then stood again suddenly, asking, "Can I get you something to drink?" Adam studied her face for a full minute, while she wondered what he was thinking. Then he stood up and came across the space to her, saying, "Why don't you tell me where everything is, and I'll help myself? You don't look fully recovered as yet." Cilla watched his lips move, and found herself mesmerized by their fullness, the top one somewhat fuller than the bottom. She barely heard what he said, and when he called her name, she said, "Sure. Come through." She walked ahead of him into the kitchen, and showed him where drinks were kept. "If you want dessert, there's custard pie here," she said, motioning to the center island, "or ice cream in the freezer. Help yourself." "Would you like anything?" Adam asked her as she turned away to leave. "Oh, no thanks. I just ate." She made good her escape, and was trying to steady her hand to write when he came back into the room, carrying a bottle of beer and a large slice of custard pie. He put them down on the coffee table, and she jumped when he came and sat beside her on the big couch, stretching his long, black-jeans-clad legs in front of him, crossed at the ankles. "Do I make you nervous?" he asked, disconcerting her even more. He forked some pie into his mouth, watching her as he chewed and then swallowed some beer. Cilla swallowed, and did not answer. She hoped he would drop the subject, but she suspected that it was not to be. She was beginning to understand the way he thought. She represented a challenge to him, a puzzle for him to solve, and he was going to solve it if it killed him. She wasn't prepared for him to turn fully toward her suddenly and catch her hands in his. "You tempt me," he said. "What?" she asked stupidly. "Why?" "I don't know why, but I can't get you out of my mind." He raised her hands to his lips, kissing each one in turn. "You're trembling!" he continued. "I don't mean to make you nervous, Cilla," he said. "I'm sorry," she said, blushing. "I'm not used to being the center of attention, especially with men like you." "Men like me?" he asked, pulling her gently toward him. "Powerful, well off executive types," she answered, resisting the pull. "Men whom women everywhere swoon over for all the obvious reasons. You know -- deep voice, sexy good looks, personality, charisma, foreign accent." She tried to make a joke of it, secretly horrified at how frank she was being, and she suddenly hoped that he would take it lightly, too. Despite her best efforts, he had managed to bring her to within an inch of his chest, and he had snaked his arms up to her shoulders, where he held her firmly. "I'm just a poor boy who's using his education to make an honest living and help young ones who are like I used to be." He tipped her chin up, forcing her to look into his eyes. "I don't know about sexy good looks or charisma, and I have no control over my voice." He bent his head, and brushed her forehead with his lips. "I can choose my friends, though. And I've chosen you. Look at me, Cilla," he commanded, when she dropped her eyes. She knew she was trembling again when she looked into his eyes, and when she saw him lower his head again, she knew she would feel his lips on hers for the first time. She should draw away from him, she thought, and she tried, but his arms were now completely wrapped around her, and he refused her subtle urging to let her go. "Cilla," he whispered, "if I asked you to, would you let me kiss you on the mouth?" He waited, a breath away from that mouth, for her to answer him. She couldn't find her voice for a long moment, and when she did, it was hoarse, almost as it had been when she was very sick. "Yes," she said, and nodded for good measure. Then she closed her eyes, and waited. "And would you kiss me back?" he whispered again, still not touching her mouth. This time she did not even try to answer, she just nodded. "May I have a kiss then, Cil?" he asked, his voice now hoarse. Cilla nodded again, swallowing hard. Adam watched her throat rise and fall and rewarded her with a soft kiss. Cilla moaned softly when she felt his lips teasing hers, and when he touched her with his tongue, she melted against him. The kiss immediately went deeper, got hotter, harder. Adam tested the seam of her lips with his tongue, and when she sighed, he plunged inside for his first taste of her. Oh, but she was sweet! He felt the fire that had started in him a week ago roar back to life again, and he struggled to control his own trembling need. He still didn't understand how he could go from cool to burning up in seconds. Yet every time he heard her voice he felt himself stand to attention like a well-trained soldier. He tried to slow down the kiss, to cool off the heat, but Cilla was too far gone now, and he gave himself up to the fire. He sat back in the couch, pulling her onto his lap, and he felt her wrap her good arm around his neck, effectively bringing her breasts in direct contact with his hard chest. She pulled her mouth away to breathe, and he remembered suddenly that she was still recovering from the flu. He felt a rising guilt for taking advantage of her in her weakened condition, and wondered vaguely if she was still contagious, but when she moved in his lap, he lost control. He pulled her face down and kissed her again and again, slowly, deeply, thoroughly, making them moan together with desire. The lights in the driveway stopped him, and he pulled away. "Cilla, someone's coming," he said hoarsely, touching her lips with a trembling finger. She raised dazed eyes to his, and struggled to get off his lap. He stood with her, and she backed away from him. "Darling..." he began, but she stopped him with a shake of her head. "Don't," she begged him simply. He went back to the chair across from her, his snack forgotten, and she sat down as the front door opened. He looked over his shoulder, and saw a smaller version of Cilla walk past the door, then heard her turn back. "Cilla?" she called, and stopped when she saw him. He recognized her voice as the one that had answered the phone before, and standing up, extended his hand, giving Cilla time to compose herself. "Adam Dalgleish," he introduced himself. "We spoke briefly the other evening." "Oh, yes, Dr. Dalgleish," the young woman said. "I'm Penelope Barnes, Cilla's little sister." She took the proffered hand and shook it vigorously, and Adam felt drawn to her immediately. He returned the broad, friendly smile she gave him, and waited until she was seated next to her sister before sitting down again. He watched as Cilla, her cheeks still a little flushed, turned to face her sister and say calmly, "I thought you had work to do!" "I did, and it's done. Mom called and said you were home alone. I thought I'd drop by." "Ma forgot to tell you I told her I was expecting Adam," Cilla said. She looked directly at him as she spoke, and he silently applauded her spunk. "Do you want anything? We still have custard pie." Penny jumped up and said, "Say no more. You must really be dying if you haven't already finished that off." She walked away into the kitchen, leaving her sister's face burning with embarrassment. Now he will think I'm a glutton, Cilla thought, glancing at Adam, who was finishing his helping of pie. As if my being a fat dumpling wouldn't be enough of a turn off. She watched him put the bottle of beer to his lips and swallow, and could not tear her eyes away. He caught her staring at him. "Want some?" he asked suggestively, and Cilla blushed to the roots of her hair. He stood up, and she backed into the cushions of the couch, but he only picked up his empty pie plate and took it and the beer bottle into the kitchen. Cilla heard him talking to Penny, heard water running, heard a laugh, and then his footsteps coming back. "I told Penny I had to leave, and she said I shouldn't on her account. Do you want me to stay?" There he went doing it again, Cilla thought, putting her on the spot, forcing her to face her feelings. "Yes," she confessed reluctantly, "but..." "Penny's here," he said. "She'll keep things G-rated between us." He moved to stand in front of her, lowered his head, and said, smiling against her mouth, "But she won't always be around, Cilla, and then you'll be fair game!" He kissed her swiftly on the mouth, moving away a second before Penny walked back into the room. "So, what are you doing, Cilla? School work? Shouldn't you take at least one more day off so you can go back really well?" Sometimes Penny killed her, Cilla thought, like now. She groaned inwardly, and avoided Adam's steady gaze. "I've already been out a month, Pen, and I've used up all my personal days already. What kind of impression will that give people?" Cilla's voice was a little strained, but Penny appeared not to notice. "You worry altogether too much about what other people think," she replied. "What about what you think? You see, that's why I couldn't do what you do for a living. I'd have to spend too much time kowtowing to people I may not even like or respect." She filled her mouth with pie. "You are accountable to someone too, you know, Penny. Your clients. If they don't like what you do for them, you'll lose them," Cilla pointed out a little acidly. "What do you do for a living, Penny?" Adam asked, interrupting the conversation. "Oh, I'm a make-up artist," she answered. "Only I freelance. And when I don't have work in my major area, I am a part-time buyer for a fashion house." "Penny's very good at what she does, Adam, and she's very rarely without work in her major area, as she calls it," Cilla commented, and Adam heard her brave attempt to hide her envy. "Anyway, why don't you two chit chat while I try to finish some of this work and be at least semi-prepared for tomorrow?" Cilla took the papers she had in her lap and went into the kitchen. She sat at the kitchen table, trying to grade them, and managed to finish two before she heard footsteps coming toward her. She tensed, expecting Penny. Adam walked in with Penny's plate. She looked at the papers on the table but saw nothing that was written on them. Adam watched her as he rinsed the plate and stacked it. "Why are you hiding out in here?" he asked. Cilla glared at him, and he held up his hands in surrender. "Penny said to ask you," he defended himself. "I like your little sister," he continued. "She has her head screwed on right. And no airs, either." He moved to stand behind her at the table, and pulled her out of the chair. "Turn around, Cil," he said suddenly, his voice husky. He waited until she had complied, and then he continued, "You're the one I came here to see, not Penny, gorgeous as she is. It's your beauty that has me floored!" He brushed her lips briefly with his, feeling his loins stir to life when she trembled in his arms. "It'll be two whole weeks before I see you again, sweetheart. Help me figure out how to make this evening work for us." Cilla sighed, and said, "You can help me plan for PD tomorrow afternoon. I don't know these people, and they don't know me. Give me some advice." "Okay. I'll make some notes, and you can go ahead and grade, or do what you had planned to do with Penny. As long as it doesn't take you away from me too long." He dropped a kiss on her forehead, and then went back into the living room. She stood where he had left her, trying to decide how to tell Penny to go, when her sister walked into the room. Cilla and Adam Ch. 01 "Hey, I didn't know he was here, Cil, or I wouldn't have come. You know that!" Penny's eyes were bright with remorse. "I know, Pen, and I'm not mad at you. I'm just..." "Scared? Of him? Cil, he's gorgeous!" Penny's voice was awed. Cilla laughed. "Funny you should say that. He said the same thing about you just now." Penny looked at her skeptically, and Cilla laughed again. "I'm serious," she said. "Yeah, but he wants me gone," Penny said perceptively. "And I can't say I blame him. When was the last time you had a gentleman caller at home without a parent in attendance? And I had to come and screw it up for you. I'll go. We won't be able to do that clothes thing till next weekend now, because I'll be out of town on a buying tour. Want me to bring you back anything?' "How about some confidence?" Cilla said impulsively. "You have the most gorgeous man in the country chasing after you and you need confidence? You need your head examined!" Penny said incredulously. "Come on," she added. "Let's go back. I'll need to say goodbye and go before mom and dad get back. And Cil?" "Yeah, Pen?" "Don't let this one go, huh?" Cilla followed her sister and watched as Penny bade Adam goodbye and drove away. Then she turned her attention back to the man who reclined in the armchair watching her. "Cilla," Adam said, "come here." She walked toward him, like someone in a trance, and he stood up as she reached him, and took her hand in his. "Sit with me. Can we cuddle a little?" he asked. "I don't want you so far away from me." He pulled her down onto his lap again, and she went willingly, forgetting the papers, forgetting the plans, just knowing she wanted to feel his mouth on hers again. "Adam," she said suddenly, "I've had two marriage proposals, but no one has ever called me beautiful before today." Adam stared at her for a long moment, and then he kissed her hungrily. "I've never met another woman who turns me on like you do," he confessed hoarsely. "That makes you more beautiful than all of them." He kissed her again, drawing her into him. She gave him back kiss for kiss, holding nothing back, and Adam knew he had found the only woman he would ever need. He explored the deep recesses of her warm mouth, teasing her with whisper kisses on her lips, and sliding his tongue up and down the length of hers. How long they stayed like that, kissing and hugging each other, lost in each other, Cilla had no idea. She only knew she heard a sound like a car. "Adam, my parents," she said and scrambled off his lap, making his loins ache with need even more. He adjusted himself carefully with trembling hands, Cilla watching him wide-eyed, and by the time her parents walked in through the front door, he seemed to be his usual self. "Cilla," her mother called, and then walked into the living room. Reverend Barnes was not far behind, so Cilla introduced them both to Adam at the same time. "Ah, what kind of doctoring do you do, Dr. Dalgleish?" Reverend Barnes asked, sitting in the hard-backed chair beside Adam's armchair. "The academic kind, sir," Adam answered promptly. "It's a Ph. D., not an MD." "What is your major?" Cilla's father was hooked. "English Literature and Creative Writing, sir," he said, watching the older man's face. Mrs. Barnes offered him something to drink, but he refused, and after a few more questions, he announced that he must leave. "Well, it was certainly nice to meet you, Dr. Dalgleish," Cilla's dad said, shaking his hand, while her mom smiled at him. They walked away to the kitchen, and Cilla smiled uncertainly at him. "We didn't get much done, did we darling?" he asked, laughing softly. "No, we didn't" she said worriedly. "What am I going to do tomorrow?" "Which e-mail address do you use more frequently?" he asked. Cilla told him, and he wrote it on one of his business cards. "I'll e-mail you some ideas tonight before I go to bed. You can choose the ones you like. If you need to talk to me tomorrow, call my cell phone before ten. I won't be able to talk to you after that. Or you can call tonight, if you have time to look at it." He put the card back in his pocket, and stood up, bending to kiss her cheek. "I don't know where these feelings I have for you are headed, and they're scaring the heck out of me, but I do know that I mean to pursue them. I'll try to keep in touch by e-mail or phone. Which do you prefer?" "Phone, please," Cilla said. "Do you have my cell phone number?" "Yes, I do," he replied, smiling at her. He opened the front door, and paused. "Good night, darling" he whispered, and bent his head for a last sweet kiss. Cilla could feel him holding himself in check, and she felt a deep thrill that she was apparently having the same effect on him as he was having on her. Cilla and Adam Ch. 02 It was Thursday afternoon, and Cilla had decided to leave work early. Patrick was picking her up to take her car shopping. Cilla had been seeing Adam for two months, during which time she had found a place of her own. As she walked down the front steps, pulling her knapsack behind her, she thought about the conversation she had had earlier with Maureen over lunch. "Have you heard the latest about our esteemed superintendent?" she asked, biting into the ham and cheese sandwich Cilla had brought for their lunch today. "Heard what?" Cilla asked cautiously. She hated gossip, especially since David. "Seems he broke up with the woman he was engaged to," Maureen said, taking a sip of the water in her glass. "Rumor has it that's why he left his last job." Despite herself, Cilla couldn't help asking, "Does anyone know if she worked for him?" "I haven't heard that," the older woman said. "He doesn't strike me as the kind to go for an office romance," she added, chewing on the rest of the sandwich. "Too straitlaced for that." Cilla watched as she threw the foil paper into the garbage and dusted the crumbs into her hand. Her own sandwich lay untouched in its wrappings, as she fought against the urge to run from the room. Just because Adam had been engaged before didn't mean anything. He wouldn't hurt her, would he? She realized as she sat there that she didn't know anything about him, and had only met him twice, the second time making out with him as though they had known each other for much longer. "Anyway," Maureen continued, "these Brits are very snotty most of the time, and he probably won't give anyone here the time of day." Cilla cringed inwardly, knowing how much time he had already given her and wishing she could take it back. She swallowed the water in her cup, and refilled it. "Aren't you going to eat? You've got to build up your strength, you know, or that flu can come back!" Maureen's voice broke into her musings again. "I'm not really hungry," she said, but when she saw the look on Maureen's face, she reluctantly took a bite of the sandwich. "I hear you'll be leading the November cabinet," the older woman said. "I envy you. Get it over with early, and not have to worry about it again for the rest of the year. I've agreed to do the February one. Irma and Jack took December and January before I sent my e-mail." The phone rang, and Cilla listened as Maureen took the call. Knowing she really didn't want to eat, she wrapped up the rest of the sandwich and put it back in the brown paper bag and drank the rest of the water. Suddenly, she made a decision, tossing the cup into the garbage. She would distance herself from this woman, and in fact from everyone else here. If anyone found out about her and Adam, she'd die of embarrassment. She stood up to leave, and Maureen waved absently to her, intent on her conversation. Now, as she walked to Patrick's waiting car, she realized that she was reverting to the closed-off Cilla who had shut out everyone after David abandoned her. Patrick must have sensed her mood, because as he took her knapsack from her, he said, "It can't be that bad, Cilla! Hop in, and take a load off!" As he drove away, her big brother looked across at her and asked, "What's wrong, little sis?" "Nothing," Cilla lied, but Patrick saw through it. She heard his disbelieving laugh, and sighed. "Okay, nothing I can talk about right now." She cleared her throat. "Where are we going?" she asked, changing the subject. "To my dealer," he answered, following her lead. "I don't need a big car," she began, "but I do want it to be red, and long-lasting." Patrick gave her an odd look. "What?" she asked, looking back at him. "Sounds like the recipe for a good man," he said, chuckling. "Is that what the long face is about?" Cilla didn't answer. Patrick sighed and said, "Okay, I'll stop prying. How much do you want to spend on this little red number?" They talked about the car all the way to the dealership, where Cilla looked at every red car in the showroom. There weren't that many, but she knew which one she wanted the minute she saw it. The four-wheel-drive vehicle was big enough to accommodate four adults, but small enough to feel like a single woman's car, not a family wagon. It had soft, curving lines, and a snub nose. It cost a small fortune. "Paddy, I can't afford the car I love. Maybe I should just settle for dreading the subway," Cilla said in despair. "Don't give up," he said. "Let's negotiate with Tom. He's a reasonable man. Come on." She let Patrick take her into the office, and listened while he haggled with his friend over the price. After more than two hours in the showroom, Cilla left with copies of the title and registration for her certified pre-owned red Jeep Liberty in her pocketbook. She would return in a week, by which time it would have been fitted with the vanity plates she wanted: 'La Bajan'. Patrick laughed when he saw what she chose. On Saturday, she decided on a whim that she would treat herself and go to the beauty salon and have everything done -- hair and nails -- and then she would go to the day spa she had wanted to visit since she had first arrived. She left the house early, and walked the mile to the main road, where she hailed a cab to take her to the shop, called 'Bim's Beauties'. After waiting for an hour, she fell asleep under the hairdresser's expert hands, and had to be wakened to dry and style her hair. Then she went into the nail salon and had her hands and feet pampered, and rich, warm red nail polish applied to finger and toe nails. It was two o'clock before she walked back into the house, just as the phone rang. She hurried to answer it. "Halloo!" she almost sang into the receiver. "Why are you so happy?" Adam Dalgleish asked her, his voice sending shivers all the way down to her toes. Cilla swallowed. "I pampered myself today. I just walked in the door." She threw her bag down on the sofa, and continued coolly, "How can I help you?" Adam did not miss the change in her tone. "I wondered if you'd care to have dinner with me this evening." He tried to keep his voice neutral, sensing that she was trying to keep aloof from him. "Please don't say no, Cilla," he said, forestalling her. She swallowed again, and then said, "Okay. Where are we going?" "Dress up," he said in answer to her unspoken question. "And dress warmly." He paused, then added, "Dinner's at eight. What time shall I pick you up?" "Seven's good," she replied, knowing she'd need that much time to call Penny and ask for help to 'dress up' for this man. "Seven it is," he agreed. "See you then." He waited for her to reply this time before he hung up. When Penny came over, two hours later, Cilla was in a state. The only thing she had to wear that she thought would be dressy enough for this outing was a silky, form-fitting black dress, below knee length, off-the-shoulder neckline, with long sleeves that clung to her arms all the way to the bottom of her wrists. A silky white ribbon cinched at the waist and hung down at the side to mid thigh. "What do you think, Pen?" she asked, holding the dress in front of her. "It's beautiful, Cil, just right for a first date, especially since he did say to dress up. What a mercy you did your hair today!" she added, casting a critical eye over the said hair. "You should pin it up, and let a few tendrils hang loose, for romantic appeal." She looked critically over her sister, from head to toe, then said, "Do you have a red ribbon you can wear instead of the white, to match your fingers and toes?" When Cilla shook her head, Penny said, "Take off the ribbon and let's have a look." She declared herself pleased with the no-ribbon look, and then shooed her big sister away to shower. She insisted that she wear the fiery red underwear she had bought for her, and by the time Adam arrived, Penny had left and Cilla was shaking in her stiletto-heeled knee-high black suede boots. She opened the door to him, and watched his face for his reaction to her appearance. Adam couldn't seem to find his breath when Cilla opened the door and he saw her. She was radiant, her hair swept up on top of her head, her face glowing in the light, her body sheathed in a black glove of a dress, and those wicked high-heeled boots on her feet. "Come in for a minute," she said, stepping away from the door. "I need to get my purse." She walked away from him and went into the sitting room, where she had left the purse. She did not hear Adam walk up behind her, and gasped when he held her waist from behind and buried his face in the side of her neck, inhaling deeply. "What scent is that?' he asked, raising his head and turning her around. "It's called 'Hypnôse'," she replied, trying valiantly to keep her breathing even. "It's hypnotizing, all right. You smell delectable!" he said, and nuzzled her neck, letting his tongue touch her, sending desire shooting down her spine. Cilla smiled shakily, and then asked, surprising herself, "And how do I look?" "Edible!" he said immediately, and took her mouth in a wanting kiss, a needing kiss, an eating kiss that drove all thoughts out of her head. She snuggled closer to him, forgetting her hair, her makeup, everything but the all-consuming need she had to feel him with every part of herself. "Cil, we have reservations at The Castille," he groaned, "and we shouldn't be late." "Mmm!" was all she could say, and she pulled his head down for another kiss. He obliged, sinking into her mouth and feasting on her. Cilla felt his erection pressing against her, and she moaned and pushed herself against him harder. Adam pushed back, and soon they were writhing and stroking each other's shoulders and backs. Cilla wanted to climb up his body, and he wanted to crawl inside her skin. The tension rose to fever pitch, and neither seemed willing or able to stem the tide. When Cilla felt herself gathering steam for a climax, she pulled herself away from him in horror, and turned her back to him. "Cil, I want you," he rasped hoarsely, reaching for her again, and turning her round to face him. "But I would never take what you haven't offered me." He made her look into his eyes, and she saw truth there. He hugged her to his broad chest, and waited until their breathing slowed and their heart rate returned to normal. Then he let her go. "You need to repair your make up, sweetheart," he said, smiling slowly, sexily. He pushed her gently away from him. "Go on, then." By the time they left the house, Cilla was able to look at Adam without feeling giddy. His black dress pants hugged his long, hard legs, all the way down to the tops of his shining black shoes, and his broad shoulders stretched the matching suit jacket that draped them. He wore gold cuff links in the sleeves of his crisp white silk shirt, and his black hair was newly cut. "Do I pass?" he asked as they drove away, his voice amused. Cilla blushed, embarrassed that he had caught her staring at him. She nodded wordlessly, and he chuckled. "I want to hear you say it," he demanded. "Tell me how I look." She swallowed. "You look...edible, too," she finally admitted, as he squeezed her fingers with the hand he had curled around hers. Dinner was an intimate affair, with Adam leaving her in no doubt that he wanted to be with her. Cilla laughed more than she had laughed in over a year, and by the time dessert came, she was more relaxed than she could ever remember being with a man, any man. So why the thought of him having been engaged should pop up at that moment still left her stunned. But it did, and she knew she wanted to hear from him what the truth was. "So Adam," she began, "there's a rumor going around that you left your last job because you broke off an engagement. Is there any truth to that rumor?" Adam put down his wine glass carefully, not letting her see the anger that rose in his throat like bile. He waited for a full minute before he answered, to clear his head, to calm his breathing, to stop himself from snarling at this woman that he wanted to be his. "Which part of the rumor most concerns you?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral. "The reason I left my last job, or the story of my engagement?" Cilla heard the restraint in his voice, and knew he was holding himself in check. She had a sinking feeling in her chest, and she wished that she had not started this thread of conversation. "I...I guess I want to know if you were really engaged to be married," she said at length, and dropped her eyes to the contents of her ice-cream bowl, twirling it around the long spoon. "I was not engaged to anyone in my last job, Cilla," he said slowly, his tones measured. "So where did that rumor come from?' she wondered aloud, silently breathing a sigh of relief. "I don't know. Maybe because the woman I WAS engaged to five years ago was hired by my district just before I left, so people thought..." He let the sentence go unfinished. "Would it have mattered to you if the rumor were true?" he asked when she remained silent. He watched her face, pushing his dessert cup away from him. He needed to know how she felt about him then more than ever before. He knew she wanted his kisses, but he didn't know if she trusted him not to hurt her. "Why should it matter to me, Adam?" she asked breathily. "I have no more claim on you than you have on me. We're just getting to know each other, and I couldn't make those kinds of demands on you." Cilla heard her reply through stunned ears, and knew she would lose this man if she didn't say something, anything, to let him know she cared about him as more than a friendly acquaintance. She stole a glance at his face, and saw that he had become remote, aloof, wary. She did something she would not have done unless she had felt the desperate need she felt at that moment. She reached for his hand, and held it between hers, saying as she did, "Adam, I'm scared that if I let anyone matter again, I'll be hurt again. I'm not very brave about pain." Cilla felt Adam clasp her hands in his with a depth of joy she couldn't describe, and she listened to his voice as he promised, "I won't hurt you, Cil! Please trust me to take care of your heart!" He raised her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles tenderly. "Both Maria and I broke off our engagement five years ago by mutual consent. I liked her a lot, but she was on the rebound, and I was feeling sympathetic. We figured it out when the man she really loved, who had walked out on her, came back to town. We knew it would be wrong for us to marry, because she still loved him." "What happened with them?" Cilla asked, looking into his eyes. "They were reconciled, but then he was called back to active duty and he was killed overseas." "She must have been devastated," Cilla said in a low voice. "She called me to tell me," he said. "I had already moved to the job I was in before I came here." He raised her hands to his lips again, and said against them, "I never felt for Maria anything like what I feel for you, Cil!" He squeezed her fingers and reached over, pulling on her hands, bringing her face close to his mouth. "Adam, not here," she said shyly, lowering her eyes from the intent to kiss her that she saw in his. "We don't know who..." "No one will see this one kiss," he said, and touched her mouth with his tongue, before taking her lips in a deep kiss. It was over before Cilla could blink, and she tried desperately to catch her breath and stop her hands from shaking. She raised startled eyes to his face when he said hoarsely, "God, you're so beautiful it hurts to look at you!" He raised a hand and continued, as the waiter approached, "Let's get out of here." Once they were outside, Adam asked, "How about a nightcap at my place?" Cilla looked uncertainly at him, and he smiled knowingly, a slow sexy smile. "I just promised not to hurt you, and I've told you I won't take anything you don't offer me. Come on," he coaxed. "We won't be disturbed by anyone, and I will take you home whenever you like." Cilla gave in without any further demur, and noted with interest that he drove past Riverhead Mews where her parents lived to get to his home. He drove up a long driveway that curved about a half mile on, and parked in a marked spot in front of an imposing structure that looked remarkably like a castle. She had heard about this set of condominiums, how expensive and exclusive they were, but she had never been inside one before. "This is called Le Grand Château, isn't it?" she asked, as they walked through the imposing front foyer. "If I didn't know before, now I know you're in the big leagues!" She looked around her admiringly, missing the amusement at her comment that flitted across Adam's face. He led her to the elevator, and watched her face when the door opened directly into the foyer of his apartment. "You live in the tower?" she gasped. "I prefer to call it the penthouse tower," he remarked laughingly, taking her coat and hanging it in the hall closet. "What would you like to drink?" he asked, ushering her into the living room and urging her into a deep chair by the fireplace. "Hot chocolate," she replied, shivering slightly. She watched him light the fire in the hearth, and snuggled into the warm chair, staring into the flames, forgetting where she was and enjoying the welcome heat. Her eyes drifted closed, and she smiled softly at the degree of comfort she felt. "Cilla," Adam said, standing over her with a red potbellied mug in his hands. "One hot chocolate, as ordered." Her eyes flew open and she took the mug from him, shivering when his fingers touched hers in the exchange. "Don't you have a garage to park your car?' she asked suddenly after taking a sip of the steaming liquid. "Yes, but I have to take you home," he answered, looking at her closely as he sat down. "Don't I?" he added, his gaze suddenly hot with desire. Cilla sipped her drink, trying to hide the blush that rose in her cheeks. She nodded, because she couldn't find her voice, and after a minute, she stole a look at his face. He put down his glass of wine and came to stand over her again. "Warm enough?" he asked huskily, reaching for the mug and placing it on the table next to her. He pulled her up and into his arms, and added suggestively, "I know how to make you really toasty." Cilla's face went up in flames again, and she shivered against her will. "Adam," she began, but he cut her off with a searing kiss. "Dance with me," he said, walking backward with her. "I don't know how," she replied in a low voice. "I'll teach you," he whispered. "I'm a very good teacher." He turned as he spoke and pressed a button on the console in the wall. Soft music filled the room, and he turned to her again. "Just relax and let me lead you." Cilla gave herself over to him completely, letting him move her where he wanted to and pull her into his clearly aroused body, stepping in time with his feet, and trying to avoid stepping on his toes. She heard his low moan and looked up to see his eyes blazing out at her. "You're killing me, Cil!" he rasped, and bent his head to take what they both wanted him to have. "I love how you fill up my arms," he whispered, when he raised his head at last. "How could any man be stupid enough to let you go?" "I guess I didn't do it for him," she said, unaware of how bitter she sounded. She pulled away from him and went to stand at the sliding glass doors that opened out onto a wide roof patio. She could see lights reflecting off the river in the distance, and watched a large, silent ship glide up its glistening length like a ghost. She knew when Adam joined her, and shivered when his hands touched her shoulders. Cilla and Adam Ch. 02 "I'll do anything to make it up to you, Cilla," he said, "but only if you let me in." He turned her around to face him and saw the pain she couldn't hide in her eyes. He pulled her back into his arms and hugged her tightly to his chest, wrapping his arms around her and planting soft kisses on her hair. He ached to make her feel better, and wished he knew what to do. She stood silently in his arms, unmoving, unresponsive. "What was his name?" he asked helplessly. "David," she whispered, and Adam heard the unshed tears in her quavering voice. "I'm not David, Cilla. I'm Adam," he said, turning her face up to his gaze. "I know you don't know me enough to trust me fully, but you know what we're feeling for each other. Can't you trust that I won't hurt you because of how I feel about you?" "I thought I could trust him, too, that his feelings were real." She stifled a soft moan of pain, of anger, and pushed against Adam's chest. "But all he wanted was willing female flesh. And slender flesh at that." She tore herself out of his arms and almost ran to the coat closet in the entry hall. "Where are you going?" Adam asked, grabbing her arms. "You said you'd take me home when I was ready." Cilla swallowed. "I'm ready." She pulled her coat out of the closet and began to put it on, but Adam's hands stopped her. "Do you think that's fair to me?" he asked angrily. "Don't my feelings count for anything?" Cilla glared up at him. "Why do you really want me to stay, Adam?" she asked, her eyes blazing at him. "Because I want to make love to you," he admitted immediately. "But I want to make love to you because I'm falling in love with you," he added. "Should I not feel that way? Would you prefer me to pretend that I'm immune to you? That you don't turn me on? That I don't care?" Cilla tried to pull away from him, but he held her fast, and when she did not answer he shook her. "Cilla, I've fallen for you. Hard." His eyes searched her face, and he tilted her chin up and said, "Look at me, please. What do you see?" Cilla refused to meet his eyes, and he bent his head and stole a kiss from her trembling lips. "Please, darling, look at me and tell me what you see." Cilla raised fearful eyes to his face and she saw the desire that battled with hurt in his eyes. Her lips trembled with the need to keep the tears at bay, and she swallowed. "Cilla, you know that what we're both feeling is real. Why else can't I keep my hands off you? Why else do I ache every day and every night to be with you? Why else do your kisses set me on fire?" He inhaled deeply and continued, "Tell me you don't feel the same way I do!" Cilla swallowed the rising lump in her throat and resisted. "Just because we have the hots for each other doesn't mean there's any real emotion there, Adam. You know that as well as I do." She tried to pull away again, and found, to her great disappointment, that he let her go. "Is that all you think this is? A case of 'the hots'?" His voice was hard, his eyes cold. Cilla shivered. "Isn't it?" she asked defensively. She looked at him defiantly and felt a rising dread at the anger that grew in his eyes. Adam swallowed against the pain of Cilla's rejection and handed her her coat. "I'm sorry I bothered you with my unwanted attentions," he said stiffly. "I'll take you home now." He bit back the words he wanted to say to her, angry words, hurtful words, because he knew he would regret them tomorrow. As long as he said little, maybe he had a chance of making her see that he wanted to be with her because she was unique and beautiful and desirable. He collected his own coat and his keys and escorted her out of his apartment, down in the elevator to the car. He helped her into her seat, and the drive to her house was silent, until he glanced at her and saw the tears sliding down her cheeks. She was holding herself perfectly still, probably so that he wouldn't notice that she was crying. He pulled into an empty supermarket parking lot and stopped the car. "Oh, God, Cilla, why are you doing this to us? Why can't you just give this a try? Give us a chance?" He kept his hands on the steering wheel and watched her. "Why does it have to hurt so much?" she asked in a strangled voice. Adam let go of the steering wheel and reached for her. "Oh, darling, I'm sorry," he whispered, not knowing what else to say. "When I look at you," she said after a while, taking in gulps of air to stop her tears, "I see a handsome man who wants to be with me. I see a gorgeous man who I would never imagine would care about me. I see a sexy man whose kisses tell me he wants me, and whom I'm hurting because I'm afraid." Her voice shook and she hid her face in her hands. Adam could feel his heart beating in his chest, and pulsing in his hands. He heard her through the roaring in his ears, and he knew he couldn't let her go. "Darling, can we go back and start again? Maybe I got hungry too soon. I'll play it the old fashioned way -- dates, no kissing, unless we both want it, until we feel comfortable enough to take it to the next level. Till you learn to trust me. Agreed?" His hands trembled on her shoulders as he waited for her reply. Cilla's eyes mirrored her agreement with his plan even before she opened her mouth to say yes. He saw the yes in her eyes, but he waited for her to say it, and when she did, he pulled her close and asked, against her lips, "So, may I?" "May you what?" Cilla asked, bemused. "Kiss you," he whispered hoarsely. He rubbed his thumb against her lips, knowing how his touch was making her squirm. "What if I say no?" she answered. "Would you take me home then?" "If that's what you want," he said, pulling away to stare intently at her. She pulled him back to her and whispered, "Just checking." And then she kissed him. Her loins were on fire for his touch, but Cilla knew he was right. They did need to slow down, although she didn't know how she was going to last if he kept her on edge as she had been all evening. In all the time she had spent with David, both as friend and fiancée, she had never felt anything like the liquid heat that burned her up every time Adam Dalgleish touched her. The heat that was consuming her now, as he plundered the treasures in her warm mouth, and caressed her with trembling hands. "Adam, I can't bear this...this longing, this ache. I want you so much, but..." Her voice trembled as she made her confession, and Adam crushed her to his chest. "Maybe I SHOULD take you home, before this gets out of hand," he conceded, his voice shaking with desire. But he could not resist taking her mouth in a last wet kiss, burning her up in her seat, groaning with the ache that rolled through his loins. Cilla seemed to want to inhale him, as he did her, and only the lights of a passing car brought them back to their senses. Adam brushed tender fingers down her cheeks, as he pulled away from her. "Darling, I'll take you home now," he said, and started the engine again. "Adam," Cilla said, settling herself properly in her seat again, "thank you." She looked at him as she spoke, and he turned his head to look at her. The desire and heat she saw in his eyes made her whimper like a whipped puppy, and she turned her eyes to the night outside her window. "You're always welcome, sweetheart," he answered hoarsely. Adam managed to make the rest of the journey without stopping again to take Cilla into his arms and ravish her. He slowed the car to a stop before her house, and when he put it in Park, he turned to her. "I had a lovely evening, Ms. Barnes," he said formally, though his eyes held a teasing light. "I'd like to invite you out again next weekend, if you're available." He looked at her expectantly, and waited for her reply. "All weekend?" she asked shyly, avoiding his eyes. Adam smiled, and turned her face up to his gaze. "If that's what you want, I'm game," he said, his eyes flaming out at her, his voice a sexy drawl. He chuckled softly at the look in her eyes at his reply. He got out of the car and came around to help her out of her seat. "Come on," he said, "let's get you indoors." He walked with her up the stairs to the little balcony that fronted her townhouse. When she opened the door, he said, "I wish I could show you how I'm feeling right now." He raised his hand and touched a trembling finger to her lips. "I'll call you, love," he said. "Sweet dreams!" He turned to walk away, and Cilla touched his arm. When he stopped to look at her, she reached up and kissed his cheek. "Thanks, Adam. I had a lovely evening, too!" Her eyes said she wanted a real kiss, and Adam fought against the urge to throw her on the bench and take her, hard and fast. Instead he bent his head and brushed her lips tenderly with his, without touching her anywhere else. "'Night, sweetheart!" It was the hardest goodnight he had ever said.