Not Quite an Angel by Bobby Hutchinson Page A

Corey, as well as the rage he harbored at destiny for putting such a burden on this beloved child. It showed her a whole new side of Adam Hawkins, a side that she found enormously appealing. Without conscious thought, Sameh put her hand on Adam’s arm and smiled at him.
    For the first time, she saw a flicker of uncertainty in his emerald green gaze, but it was gone instantly, and for the rest of the evening, his defenses were again in place.
    When it came time to leave, he turned to her and said, “Do you have a car?”
    Sameh shook her head. She quailed at the very thought of trying to navigate the chaos of Los Angeles traffic. Lord knew she’d had enough problems using the automated sidewalks and people porters in her own time, never mind learning to drive a car here in the nineties. “I always use taxis,” she explained. “They’re really very reliable, and the drivers tell me the most amazing stories.”
    He lifted an eyebrow and gave her that disconcerting green stare again. “I’m sure they do, but you won’t need to call one tonight. I’ll drive you home.”
    His arrogance was enormous, but refusing seemed both petty and rude, which was how she ended up alone with him in his shiny red sports car thirty minutes later, parkedwith the roof down on an isolated promontory overlooking the ocean.
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    â€œT HAT VIEW’S REALLY something, isn’t it?” Adam shuffled through his box of CDs and selected Leonard Cohen. He’d researched carefully over the years and it seemed a vast majority of women found old Lennie’s sepulchral voice and obscure lyrics as sexy as hell. “I live not far from here, and I never get tired of the ocean and sky.”
    Adam intended to accomplish two things. He planned to both interrogate and seduce Ms. Sameh Smith, not necessarily in that order. During dinner the seduction portion had taken alarming precedence.
    Sitting beside Sameh had been challenging. The sticky wine stains on his trousers and shirt had been minor annoyances compared with the sexual desire she stirred in him, a desire so fierce it had taken all his control to suppress it enough so the others wouldn’t notice. Sitting at the dining table with a large napkin across his lap helped a lot.
    Now, all he needed to do was create the proper mood. He was counting on the silver-dappled ocean, the star-studded sky—the smog had lifted because of the breeze—and the car’s elaborate sound system to supply a generous amount of ambience. After that, well, as he’d just told her, his house wasn’t that far away when things got steamy. His heart beat fast and hard, anticipating the sex. He had no doubts whatsoever about his ability or his technique; after all, both had been honed to perfection by constant practice over a number of years.
    He reached across and took her hand in his, stroking her fingers one by one, exploring her palm with his thumb. In another moment, he’d bring her hand to his lips and bite at the tender pad just below her fingers. Then he’d slide anarm around her shoulders and— He froze, and his X-rated version of the next few hours fizzled.
    â€œYou and Bernie took pictures of me and checked my identity.” Her deep throated voice was soft, her words a statement rather than a question. “You don’t trust me, Adam. You’re investigating me.” She was looking right at him, straight into his eyes. He could see the hurt in her expression. “And tonight I realized it was even worse than that,” she burst out. “Why in the galaxy would you believe I might ever harm Bernie or his family, or Delilah? What is there about me that could possibly make you think I could be dangerous to people I respect and like?”
    It was clear she wanted an answer.
    Adam was still holding her hand, trying to figure out how in the hell she knew any of this. Bernie wouldn’t have spilled the beans. No