Stealing Gold (The Logan Series Book 4) (4 page)

Chapter Four

Adam’s
phone rang a couple of minutes later.

“Hi.”

The
first word she’d spoken to him since they’d been a married couple. Since he’d
left for work that morning, thinking they were happily in love until he’d come
home to find her, and all her things, moved out.

“Hi,
Stacy.” He breathed deep. “I hear you’ve been having some problems.”

“That’s
a bit of an understatement. My entire life has fallen apart. I should have
listened to you about Lester. I don’t know what trouble he’s gotten himself
into, but it must be big. I’ve just discovered that not only has he stolen my
money, he’s also sold my house from under me.”

There
was no satisfaction in learning he’d been right all along. “I’m sorry.”

“No,
I’m sorry. I feel such a fool.”

“Do
you need money? I can transfer money into your account to tide you over.”

“No.
I’m fine. I have enough for now, and I’m doing some work, so that’ll help. I
just wanted to tell you I’m sorry for not believing what you told me. I know my
apology is a long time coming, but I regret the way I acted.”

She
didn’t mention that they’d be working together; she couldn’t know yet.

He
rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t wish you any unhappiness—I know how you
felt about Lester. Your trust was misplaced and at the time I was furious at
the way you handled things, but now it doesn’t matter any more. You and I are
history.” He shrugged. “And there’s no point in holding a grudge.”

She
would have moved on with her life anyway. There’d be some new man in the
frame—Stacy wouldn’t have stayed single for long.

“Are
you still in New York? I’d like to see some time, but I’m due to fly to Ireland
tomorrow.”

“I
know.” He shoved a hand into the front pocket of his jeans. “That’s the reason
I wanted you to call. By some weird quirk of fate our paths are about to
coincide again. I sold my business and have moved back to Ireland with a new
venture. My friend Sean and I are partners in Boxfield Animation—you’re working
with me.”

He
heard her gasp.

“You’re
making the film?”

“We
were all set to record the voice over with Mitta Jewel until the Teen Choice
Awards. After her performance that all fell apart, until Plaxtair managed to
get you on board.”

“You
suggested me.” She sounded definite. “I guess I should thank you.”

He
was quick to put her right. “No. Sean and Barney Meisner pushed for you, not
me. I was watching that night, but they made the decision.” Curiosity put words
into his mouth he hadn’t intended saying. “You were wearing your ring.”

“It
was our anniversary. I was feeling nostalgic.” Her husky tones added an element
of intimacy that made his body respond.

“How
does the new man in your life feel about that?”

“There
is no other man.”

His
heartbeat increased.

“There
hasn’t been anyone since you.”

He
wished they were in the same room so he could see her, read the secrets in her
eyes. Judge if she was feeling the connection between them twist and tighten as
he was.

“I’ll
give the ring back when I meet you in Ireland. I should have returned it a long
time ago.”

“Keep
it.” He stalked to the window. Rain cascaded from the guttering. The trap
beneath was clogged and overflowing. He’d forgotten how much it rained in
Ireland. “As a memento of what we once had.” Before he could make a fool out of
himself asking why she hadn’t moved on with someone new after all this time, he
said: “It’s late. I’ll see you at the airport.” And terminated the call.

*****

The
captain’s disembodied voice advised the passengers that they would be landing
shortly, and the fasten seat belts light went on.

“You
awake, Stacy?”

Stacy
cracked open her eyes, and turned to Apollo. Even though the first class seats
were wide, he still looked shoehorned into the space available. “Yes.” Truth be
told, she’d been awake for hours, snatching only a little sleep on the flight
to Shannon. She barely slept ever since talking to Adam, obsessing over seeing
him again until her head hurt. “I still can’t believe we’re actually here.”

“Adam
said he’d pick us up. He said you’re staying in his house.”

“Yes.”
Apollo was repeating himself.

Stacy’s
stomach flipped. She’d examined the contract in detail and had noted that the
songs for the movie had been written by one of Nashville’s leading songwriters
and the entire voice-over process would take a month—no longer. A month where
she’d be in very close contact with a man she once thought she knew completely,
but now couldn’t make out at all.

“You’re
doing the right thing.” Apollo stretched his legs and then apologized the woman
in front who turned to glare as he jolted her chair. “I know you don’t want to
do this job, but it’s the right thing.”

“I
don’t know if it’s the right thing or not, but I ran out of options. It was
either get on the plane to Ireland or start work on another album just like my
last one.” She squeezed her lips together. “I’m so sick of being manipulated.
At least now Clint is listening to my new material and I’ll be able to make the
album I want.”

“And
some cash.”

“Yes.
That too.” She shoved a magazine into her carry on bag. “I wish you were
staying.”

The
studio execs had been adamant that Apollo would accompany her to Ireland for
security purposes. On arrival, Adam would take on responsibility for her safety,
and Apollo would return to the States. Being without her constant companion
made butterflies flutter in her stomach.

“I’m
taking a few days holiday before I go back,” Apollo said. “Maybe you, me and
Adam can have a drink or dinner before I leave.”

The
old gang getting back together. Once, the three of them had been easy in each
other’s company, but now everything was different. Apart from that one moment
when their conversation had veered into more personal territory, Adam had been
coolly professional.

When
they’d first met, she’d been entranced by him, attracted before they’d even
spoken and swept up in a passionate romance full of laughter. There was no
laughter left in their interactions any longer.

The
plane descended through slate-gray clouds and a sprinkling of lights from the
houses below lit the dark landscape with glittery pinpricks. “I always imagined
my first visit to Ireland would be different. We’d planned to travel and meet
his family before…”

“Before
you broke up, yeah I know.” Apollo shoved his Kindle into his carry on bag. “Better
late than never, huh?”

They’d
talked about many things during the flight. Lester’s betrayal and the current
search to trace his whereabouts, which so far had proved unfruitful, the
precarious state of her finances, and the loss of her home.

It
was proving impossibly difficult to reclaim her home—and to be honest, she was
so disenchanted by recent events the thought of making a fresh start outweighed
the urge to turn back time and fight the current owners for ownership.

“New
beginnings.” She breathed in deep. She had a month of solid work ahead
recording the voice over for
Bibi’s Big Adventure,
and was determined to
spend every free hour writing extra songs for the album. Now was a time to look
forward, to plan for the new future she alone would control. There was no point
in dwelling on past failures, and past disappointments.

She
would spend a lot of time working with Adam over the next month, but when the
time in the studio was through, she’d be left to her own devices. He had a new
life. She didn’t even know if it included a woman, even though she’d spewed her
guts and admitted there was no-one significant in her life.

She
grimaced at the memory.

“Hold
on, it’s going to be bumpy.”

Apollo
had never spoken truer words.

*****

The
flight from New York was the last flight into Shannon, and the airport was half
deserted. Adam’s gaze scanned the tired passengers—a sense of eager
anticipation making him wired and edgy, as if he’d spent the day mainlining
espresso.

He
rubbed the back of his neck, and closed his eyes for a moment.

A
gasp from the woman standing next to him forced his head up, and his eyes open.
A familiar figure strode through the arrivals gate, a man head and shoulders
above the other passengers. At six foot six, Apollo easily dwarfed them.

“That’s
a fine looking man,” the woman muttered under her breath. She was alone, but
her comment wasn’t directed to Adam, it was more a comment to the world in
general. An acknowledgment of hotness to the universe.

He
searched the crowd before Apollo, and there she was. High heels, tight jeans, a
buttery black leather jacket covering what looked like a slim black camisole
with an edging of black lace around the low dipping neckline. Nashville all the
way.

The
urge to smile was overwhelming.
Shit, it’s good to see her.
Holding on
to anger, to hurt, was becoming ever more impossible, especially when all he
wanted to do was to stalk over, throw his arms around her and kiss her until
she couldn’t see straight.

She
looked up, spotted him, and smiled. A genuine smile, and then her expression
changed to one he’d seen on her face many times before. One of awareness. The
air seemed charged and a familiar spark zinged between them. Desire that
neither could deny, neither could hide.

What’s
the point of even trying?

Adam
walked around the barrier, his gaze never leaving hers. She abandoned any
effort to move, just waited for him to reach her. She chewed on her bottom lip,
and her throat moved in an involuntary swallow.

Waiting
for their plane to land, he’d planned to play it cool. To keep a level of
distance between them, that would be necessary because she wouldn’t be checking
into a hotel, but living with him for the duration.
Plans are for breaking.

He
stopped inches from her. Leaned down to stare into her eyes.

“Welcome
to Ireland.” Before she had a chance to respond, he brought his mouth to hers.

Her
lips parted in a gasp, and then she was kissing him back; her lips soft and
yielding against his. He breathed in her familiar scent, couldn’t stop his
hands from reaching for her waist and tugging her close.

Her
hands flattened against his suede jacket, and her chest pressed against his.

The
noise of a throat clearing jolted him back from heaven to earth. Slowly, he
pulled away, and looked down to see her eyes opening, staring at him with
confusion in their depths.

He
turned to Apollo. “Good flight?”

The
bodyguard grinned widely. “Great flight.”

“My
car’s outside.”

Chapter Five

Well,
that was confusing. Stacy trailed along behind Adam and Apollo in a daze. It
had always been like that between them when they met—instant attraction, but
she hadn’t been ready for the shock of desire that had hit her between the eyes
the moment she’d caught sight of him in the arrivals hall.

He
looked different without his glasses, but that wasn’t the only difference. He
must have been working out because his shoulders looked broader, his hair was
longer, and… Dear god, she was mesmerized. So she’d stood there and stared as
he crossed the space between them. Had been unable to look away when he’d
walked right up to her with that gleam in his eyes that warned he was going to
kiss her, lost in the desire to feel his lips on hers.

And
then, to make things worse, instead of keeping the kiss friendly, she’d opened
her lips and…practically devoured him.

It
didn’t bode well for the next few weeks. If she couldn’t resist him now, what
chance would she have when they were alone together in his house?

Apollo
loaded their bags into a black Range Rover, while she slid into the backseat.
They drove through the dark night for a while, then arrived at a hotel.

“This
place looks out of my league.” Apollo stared through the windshield, but made
no attempt to leave the car.

“I
cleared it with the finance guys. You came all this way, consider it a perk of
the job.” He reached across Apollo, opened the glove compartment, and retrieved
a key with a paper tag attached. “The Radisson Blu has a spa, so you can get a
massage in the morning, work out in the gym, or just chill in the pool. I hired
you a car for your stay so you can see some sights—leave it at the airport when
you’re flying out.”

“God,
I could do with a massage,” Stacy said.

Adam
turned and grinned at her. “Sorry, Stace, facilities are much more basic at my
house.” To her relief, he didn’t add that he’d be happy to give her a massage.

Apollo
exited the car. She opened her door and stepped out too, enveloping her
bodyguard in a hug. “I wish you were coming with us,” she whispered.

“You
don’t need me. Just relax, Adam will take good care of you.”

That
was the very last thing she needed.

Apollo
strode toward the hotel.

She
climbed into the front seat. And then they were alone.

“How
long is the drive to your house?”

“About
two and a half hours.” He glanced over. “How are things since we talked?”

“Much
the same. Lester has disappeared, and my lawyer is trying to get my house back,
but it could be a long time until there’s any action on that front.” She rubbed
her fingers together. “I should have listened to you.”

“You
made a mistake—but an understandable one. You have to trust someone. If one of
my family members had done the same, I never would have believed them capable
of it. Are you any closer to understanding why?”

She
nodded. “It appears he lost control of a gambling habit. The FBI has discovered
he owed a crime syndicate big—they think he stole money and liquidated the
proceeds of my house to clear his debt. His new accountant, Mrs Kensington, has
also disappeared. They were in it together.”

“Are
there other musicians affected?”

“I
was his only client. He always said he only needed one—and I guess someone else
might have done more due diligence. Looking back, there were hints, but I
refused to see them.” She snuggled deeper into the warm leather seat. “Even
when you pointed them out to me.”

“Like
I said, it’s difficult to believe ill of someone you trust.” It started to
rain, a misting drizzle smearing the windshield. Adam’s throat moved in a
swallow. “I guess I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Her
heartbeat stepped up. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t have kissed you back.”

He
glanced over. “Why did you?”

Truth,
or lie? She’d never been able to lie to him. “I couldn’t help myself.” Stacy
dragged in a deep breath. “I regret the way I ended our marriage. It feels like
there is unfinished business between us.”

His
mouth twisted, and silence hung heavy in the car’s interior for a moment. “Our
relationship is dead, there’s no going back.”

She
suppressed a wince at the harshness of his words.

“It
took me a long time to stop loving you. It’s taking me longer to stop wanting
you.” His mouth formed a wry smile. “I wanted an explanation for a long time. I
wanted…” He shrugged. “God, I don’t know. I guess I wanted closure.” He stared
ahead.

If
she were brave, she’d explain. Give him that closure. But a yellow streak
stretched from the nape of her neck to her coccyx. “But you kissed me.”

He
frowned. “There were two of us in that kiss. It’s been nine months. Long enough
to get over you.”

“Are
you trying to hurt me?”

His
fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “Once upon a time I would have been.
But not any longer. I told you, there isn’t anything between us any more.”

She
had no idea why she was fighting him on this, but stubbornness, mixed with
tiredness let the words fall from her mouth anyway. “That’s bullshit. When I
needed you, you were there for me. You got me this job—you kissed me—”

“Your
crisis came at a good time for the film, we needed you.” His harsh words
shattered the romantic bubble that had been growing. “As for the kiss—we want
each other. It’s just basic chemistry, babe, that’s all.”

“So
what are we going to do about it?” She crossed her arms, willing away hurt
feelings.

“I
suggest we forget it. You have a job to do, and so do I. It was one kiss. One
lousy kiss. Don’t worry, I won’t be following it with a proposal.”

*****

Adam
sat on his grandmother’s rocking chair on the back deck of the cottage that
faced the sea, nursing a cup of coffee. He’d been rougher with Stacy than he
intended last night. He’d hurt her with that crack about not following his kiss
with a proposal. She’d turned her head away and stared into the darkness, and
after a while her body relaxed, her head rested against the door jamb, and her
breathing altered as sleep claimed her.

Kissing
her had been stupid. Unavoidable, inevitable, but stupid. Now the specter of
that kiss danced between them, teasing them both with what once was, what could
have been.

What
should
have been.

He’d
woken her when they arrived at the cottage, accompanied her to the bedroom next
door to his, and left her. Knowing Stacy, she’d been asleep the moment her head
hit the pillow. He’d always envied her the ability to fall asleep anywhere,
anytime. She’d once said it was because she’d spent so much time on the road—that
she had to snatch sleep when she could.

He
envied her that. Last night he’d prowled around the cottage for hours, unable
to settle. The cottage had always been small, but now it felt tiny, as though
the mere fact that she was within its walls changed it somehow. He imagined her
curled in the old four poster, lying on her left side with her hands folded
under her cheek. She’d always slept the same way, apart from the times when she’d
curled around him, her hand on his stomach, or on his…

“Hey.”

He
turned.

She
stood in the doorway, looking at the sky and untroubled sea. “This is so
beautiful. Can I join you?”

He
gestured at the empty chair next to his. “Sure.”

She
wore an oversized T-shirt that brushed against her knees. Her legs were bare,
and she wore no makeup. Her hair was mussed in the morning way he remembered.

“What
is this place?” She curled her legs up under her, completely at ease in his
presence. “I presumed it was somewhere you were renting, but there’s so much
personal stuff—it feels like a home rather than a rental.”

“It
belonged to my grandmother. She died six months ago, and left it to me in her
will. She always wanted me to come back to Ireland. I think this was her way of
making sure that happened. I initially planned to sell it, but then the
opportunity to work with Sean on the film in Clifden came up, and so I decided
to relocate.”

“You
said you sold your company?”

“Yes.
The new owners wanted me to stay on, but I was ready to move on.”

She
took a sip from the cup of coffee cradled between her palms. “If I owned this
cottage I don’t think I’d ever be able to bear selling it.” She gazed left and
right. “There doesn’t seem to be another house for miles.”

“Not
quite miles, but far enough.” He grinned. “It’s basic. There’s no spa, no room
service, no chef.”

“But
you’re going to cook for me, right?” Her eyebrow rose. “You do remember my
attempts at cooking?”

“How
could I forget.”

She
smiled. “I did try.”

“You
did. And that steak wasn’t too bad—I like meat well-done. There are a few
restaurants in the area, and if we don’t want to go out we can make something
easy. You were pretty good at tuna sandwiches, from what I remember.”

“I
like being here. I’ve lived most of the past year in hotels.”

Her
eyes clouded, and something about the way she sat, quietly unmoving, had a hint
of loneliness about it. It was crazy, since she always travelled with her band,
a tight-knit, friendly group who always seemed to take good care of her. “I was
so looking forward to coming home. To not having to change out of my pj’s if I
didn’t want to. To just…” She cast him a glance from under the sweep of her
dark eyelashes. “Am I making any sense?”

“Yeah,
you are.” He knew exactly what she meant. “The guys wanted to check you into
the best hotel in Clifden. They thought I was crazy suggesting you stay with
me, but I knew you’d prefer being here. Let me show you around.” It would have
been natural to offer her a hand to pull her from the chair, but he stuffed his
hands in his pockets and strode through the double glass doors that led from
the patio to the cottage’s interior instead.

“You’ve
seen most of it. There are four bedrooms, yours, mine, one which serves as a
home gym, and one I have converted into a makeshift office.” He pushed open a
door to reveal a room dominated by a large desk holding an impressive computer installation
with two huge monitors. “I’ll be spending most of my time in here.”

“Your
Batcave.” She smiled.

“Every
man needs one.” She’d always understood that he needed a private place to
work—somewhere devoid of distraction. The way they worked was so different. She
had made herself comfortable on the sofa with a guitar and a notebook to
compose—happily ignoring him when she needed to. He could never work like that.

They
walked back into the sitting room. “I reckoned you’d be able to work here.” He
waved at the large squashy sofa next to the fire. “The beach is less than a
mile away, we can visit after breakfast if you like.”

She
chewed on her bottom lip. “Someone might recognize me. No-one knows I’m in
Ireland, but—”

“I
know you’re used to being front and center, but believe me, even if you are
recognized, no-one will bother you. I’ll make sure of that.” She lived her life
in a fishbowl, which was one the reasons he’d wanted to bring her to Ireland,
back when they were married. To show her that life could be easy. Could be
real.

She
sat on the sofa, and stroked a patchwork throw adorning its back. “Did your
grandmother make this?”

The
cottage had been in his family for generations. Old pictures in his grandmother’s
photo albums showed it with a thatched roof in an earlier incarnation.

“Maybe,
I don’t know. She might have made it, or it could have been made by one of her
sisters or her mother. Her parents lived in this house before her.”

Stacy
walked to the window and stared out at the wild garden, edged with fuschia
hedges underplanted with bright orange montbretia. The grass was rough and
uneven, and bordered by a drystone wall. In the distance, the granite sky
blended into the darker sea below.

A
memory of something he’d read floated up. “Didn’t you spend your early years in
a house that had been home to generations of your family too?”

She
turned. “The cabin in the mountains?” Her mouth twisted. “There’s an element of
creative license in the story of my early years.” She stared at the floor. “Lester
wrote my bio. He liked to say he created me. In many ways he was right.”

When
her gaze lifted, there was pain in the depths of her eyes. Adam gritted his
teeth. “He didn’t create you.” He walked to her side, and gripped her upper
arms, turning her to him. “That man did his very best to undermine your
confidence. He controlled what you thought about me, and what you thought about
yourself. Don’t let him win. Don’t give him credit for something he doesn’t
deserve. Your creativity, your talent, that’s all down to you, Stacy Gold. Don’t
ever doubt that.”

She
scrunched her eyes closed. “Everything about me is a lie. Every single fact you
think you know is wrong.”