Secrets in the Stone (18 page)

She was delicious. Slightly taller than Adrian, whip-slender, with short, thick dark hair and midnight eyes. Her dark gaze searched Melinda’s face with curiosity and cool appraisal. Melinda lusted for the power coiled in the woman’s muscular shoulders and taut torso, and envisioned sweeping her hands, her lips, over that tight, bold body—sucking her, drinking her ecstasy. Melinda’s sex blossomed and twitched in anticipation.

“Melinda, this is Rooke Tyler,” Adrian said. “Rooke, Melinda Singer.”

“Hello.” Melinda rose, her hand outstretched. In her high-heeled boots she was several inches taller than Rooke, but their eyes met on the same plane. She held the strong hand for several heartbeats longer than necessary, gauging Rooke’s energy. She sensed a force darker than Adrian’s, heavy and foreboding, of the earth, whereas Adrian radiated the light and heat of the sun. Adrian’s passion promised to set her ablaze; this woman’s would brand her very essence. For a fleeting second, she imagined the three of them together, of their bodies fused and their passion melded—earth and air, dark and light, consumed to ashes in her fire. Their release would satisfy her in her deepest reaches.

“Hello,” Rooke said, pulling her hand away.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Melinda said.

“How do you know it’s me?”

Melinda smiled and glanced at Adrian, whose eyes held worry and a possessiveness Melinda doubted she was aware of. Oh yes, there was passion here to surpass any she had known.

“I just have a feeling that we were destined to meet.” Melinda slipped her fingers around Rooke’s wrist and drew her down onto the love seat next to her, close enough that their thighs touched. Adrian took an adjacent wing-backed chair, her expression wary. “My intuition is never wrong.”

Rooke glanced at Adrian, whose eyes softened. Energy hummed between them, but Melinda doubted either was really aware of the intensity of their connection. Her skin vibrated with it, and she wasn’t even touching them. Her excitement escalated. She was very much going to enjoy these two. So much more together than apart.

“Adrian said you wanted me to look at a picture of a sculpture.”

Melinda opened her purse and removed the page she had printed from the sale catalogue. She handed it to Rooke and pointed to the sculpture. “This is yours, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Rooke said without looking at Melinda or Adrian. She held the paper in both hands so the other women would not see her shaking. Until now, she hadn’t really believed that a woman she’d never met had traveled from New York City to find her because of one of her sculptures. “I don’t understand how this happened.”

“Did you sell this to someone?” Melinda asked, stroking Rooke’s forearm.

“No. I’ve never sold any of my sculptures.”

Melinda caught her breath. “How many more?”

Rooke looked at Adrian again.

“She has quite a few more,” Adrian said quietly. She almost hated to admit it, feeling as if she were somehow delivering Rooke to Melinda. That was crazy, she knew, but Melinda was beautiful and alluring and from the way she looked at Rooke, she was interested in more than just Rooke’s sculptures.

“Where are they?” Melinda asked.

“At my shop. My grandfather has a few in the house,” Rooke said. “No one else has ever had one.”

“Did he have this one?” Adrian asked. “Maybe he sold it?”

Rooke shook her head vehemently. “No, he wouldn’t sell my work.” She paused. “But maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Adrian wished she could make this easier for Rooke. Learning one of her sculptures was about to be auctioned off had to feel like a violation.

“Pops might have given one to my grandmother.” Rooke focused on Adrian. “Where is the sale you were talking about?”

“It’s at Fox Run Mansion,” Adrian had. “Is Bea Meriwether your grandmother?”

Rooke shook her head. “No. Ida Hancock is.”

Adrian gasped. She’d just assumed that Rooke didn’t have any other living relatives. Ida Hancock was her grandmother’s best friend. They were in Florida together right at that moment. Adrian had known Ida all her life. How was it possible she’d never heard Ida talk about Rooke? Why had she never met Rooke at any of the summer parties her grandmother hosted? Ida was always there. And how, if her grandmother knew Ida, could she ever have repeated such ridiculous rumors about Rooke? When she realized Rooke was staring at her, she said lamely, “I didn’t know Ida Hancock had any grandchildren.”

“She wouldn’t have mentioned me,” Rooke said with a shrug. “As far as she’s concerned, we aren’t related.”

Melinda laughed softly, running her fingers over the top of Rooke’s hand. “Ah, the luscious intrigue of small towns. How foolish of anyone not to claim you.”

Rooke handed the paper back to Melinda and eased her hand out from under Melinda’s fingers. She didn’t want to talk about her grandmother. She didn’t want to talk about her sculptures, either.

“What are you going to do with it? When you buy it?”

“I’m going to display it in my gallery. And I’d like to represent your other works as well.” Melinda finished her wine and set the glass aside. When she breathed in the scent of desire emanating from the other two women, she almost laughed, wondering how they couldn’t know. “When can I see the rest of your work?”

“Why?” Rooke asked.

Melinda did laugh then. “Most artists would be begging me to review their portfolio at this point.”

Rooke frowned. “I don’t have a portfolio. I guess I’m not really cut out for this kind of thing.”

“Oh, my dear,” Melinda murmured, lightly caressing the edge of Rooke’s jaw. “You have no idea how perfect you are. Exactly what I was looking for.”

Adrian edged forward, forcing Melinda’s attention away from Rooke. “You’ll be offering a contract, spelling out the terms of representation?”

“Of course, darling. You needn’t worry. I have no intention of mistreating her.” She smiled at Rooke. “In fact, I promise to treat you very, very well.”

“I have to think about it. I don’t know if I want to sell my sculptures.”

“I understand.” Melinda took a card from her purse and handed it to Rooke. “You can look up the gallery on the Internet. Study some of the pieces we have on display. I think you’ll like what you see. If you don’t want to put your pieces up for public sale, I have private collectors who I know would be interested. I can assure you, it would be quite lucrative for you.”

Rooke glanced at the card, then tucked it into her shirt pocket. “I don’t know if I want anyone to have them.”

“Then why did you create them?”

“Because…” Rooke didn’t know how to explain, but Adrian’s gaze said she understood, so she tried. “Because that’s what I do.”

“Is it pleasurable?” Melinda asked.

Rooke flushed, remembering the stone heating under her hands, the fluid arch of a neck, the fullness of breasts flowing through her mind, stirring her flesh. Excitement burgeoned, making her groin tighten and throb. She met Melinda’s eyes and saw her arousal reflected in the flickering green-gold.

“More,” Melinda murmured, her voice thick as honey. “I can promise you the pleasure will be greater than you dreamed if you let me share your gift.”

The longer Rooke looked into Melinda’s eyes, the more uncomfortable she became. She sensed danger everywhere, but she couldn’t find a focal point for it. Darkness encroached on the edges of her vision, and she wanted to grab Adrian’s hand and leave this place. She wanted to be back in Adrian’s kitchen, in the soft glow of the lamplight, listening to Adrian talk about places she’d been and the things she wanted to write about. A fist squeezed tightly in the center of her chest and she almost groaned.

“I need to go now,” Rooke said so abruptly Melinda gave a small cry of disappointment. She lurched to her feet, casting wildly about for Adrian, unable to find her.

Adrian rose quickly and rested her palm against Rooke’s cheek. “Hey. It’s okay.” She brushed her fingers through the thick lock of hair that fell across Rooke’s forehead. Sweat misted along Rooke’s hairline. “We’ll go.”

“I’m sorry.” Rooke closed her eyes and tilted her head into Adrian’s palm as the tension eased and she could breathe freely again.

“We’re done here,” Adrian said to Melinda, who watched them with an avid expression. She gripped Rooke’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“Good-bye for now,” Melinda whispered. “Thank you for bringing her to me.”

“I didn’t do it for you.” Adrian heard Melinda laughing softly as they left.

Didn’t you?

“I think you’d better drive until we get out of town,” Rooke said, handing Adrian her keys.

“Sure,” Adrian said uncertainly. “Why?”

Rooke didn’t reply, just pulled open the passenger door and climbed in. Adrian slid behind the wheel and started the engine. When she checked in the side-view mirror before pulling out onto the nearly empty Main Street, she noticed a sheriff’s patrol car parked on the opposite side, half a block down. She drove carefully along the snow-covered street and turned off Main onto River Road. After they’d gone a mile and there was no one behind them, she pulled over and looked at Rooke, who sat facing forward, her hands in the pockets of her jacket, her face still as granite.

“Are you all right?”

“Fine.” After a beat, Rooke said, “I can drive now.”

“We’re not that far from my house. Come over and have some lunch.”

“I do still need to check the tarp to make sure it hasn’t come loose.”

“That works out, then.” Adrian flicked the keys hanging from the ignition. Rooke was upset, but Adrian couldn’t tell if it was due to learning that her sculptures were no longer her secret or if Melinda’s obvious attentions bothered her. Or, something Adrian didn’t want to contemplate, maybe Rooke was brooding because Melinda’s attentions were welcome and Rooke wanted more, something Melinda seemed confident of delivering.
And maybe,
she growled inwardly,
I can sit here and wonder for the rest of the afternoon and never know the answer.
She’d always gone after what she wanted and what she wanted to know. Indecision was foreign to her and she rebelled against it now. “Why am I driving?”

“Because I don’t have a license.”

“Ah. And I guess the local authorities know that,” Adrian said, recalling the sheriff’s car.

“Everyone knows.”

The way she said it made Adrian’s heart hurt. No wonder Rooke had kept her work a secret in a town where she had no secrets. “You’ve been driving out to my place.”

“The sheriff has better things to do in the middle of a blizzard than haul me in because I’m driving without a license.”

“Haul you in?”

Rooke’s eyes were dark deep pools of anger and frustration. “I graduated from just getting ticketed a few years ago. The last time they stopped me, I spent half the night in jail.”

“They can’t do that!”

“They did. For some reason it took them a while to call my grandfather.”

Adrian reached across the space between them and took Rooke’s hand. “That’s not right. For God’s sake, you grew up here. You don’t need to read the street signs to know where you are or to recognize a stop sign. Aren’t there any lawyers in this town?”

“It’s not just because I can’t read,” Rooke said in a low, strained voice.

“What then?”

“I don’t have a license because I can’t pass the written test, but even if I could, I would have a problem getting a license. I have…” Rooke blew out a breath. “I have seizures.”

Adrian twined her fingers through Rooke’s, squeezing gently. “From the accident?”

Rooke nodded.

“How bad is it?” Adrian couldn’t bear the thought of Rooke being hurt, and the idea of her having a seizure at any time, but particularly while driving, terrified her.

“Not bad. I haven’t had one in a long time.” Rooke bowed her head and cradled Adrian’s hands between both of hers, brushing her thumb back and forth over Adrian’s knuckles.

“You take medication?” Adrian asked faintly, riveted by the sweep of Rooke’s thumb back and forth over her skin.

“Yes.”

Adrian barely heard her as the rhythmic caress sent teasing currents of pleasure into her breasts and lower. The longer it went on, the more her clitoris swelled and pulsed. Tendrils of excitement twined through her pelvis and along her spine. She’d never been so sensitive before, even in the midst of making love. The arousal was so intense she wanted it to go on forever, and needed it to stop immediately before she moaned aloud and humiliated herself. When her thighs tensed and her pelvis clenched, she was on the verge of screaming from the pressure to climax. Carefully, not wanting Rooke to know just how close to the edge she was, she eased her hand free of Rooke’s hot grasp and clutched the steering wheel. Beside her, Rooke was breathing hard, looking almost dazed.

“I’d better drive us home,” Adrian said, her throat tight.

Rooke didn’t answer, and out of the corner of her eye, Adrian saw her hand ball into a fist on her thigh. It wasn’t until she put the truck in gear and started cautiously down the rutted, snow-covered road that she realized while Rooke had been touching her, all she’d felt was Rooke. Here and now and overwhelmingly potent. She hadn’t sought to shield against her, wasn’t certain she could have if she tried. She seemed to have no ability to keep Rooke at a distance. She never allowed herself to be so vulnerable. How had she let this happen?