Living With Adam. Anne Mather
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smiled. ‘Don’t fuss. Come into the sitting-room. I want to talk to you.’
‘Only talk? You disappoint me,’ returned Loren dryly, but she preceded him obediently across the hall and into the small sitting-room which was the least opulently furnished room in the house. Even so, its tapestry-clad walls and Regency-striped couches set on soft Aubusson carpeting were a little stifling for Adam’s taste, but he usually managed to hide his feelings admirably.
Now Loren waited until he had closed the door before twining her arms round his neck and parting his lips with her own, pressing her lissom body close against him, demanding a response. Adam held her closely for a moment, returning her kiss warmly, and then he gently but firmly put her away from him. When she would have protested and slid back into his arms, his grip on her arms tightened perceptibly, and she pouted impatiently.
‘Adam,’ she said reproachfully, ‘I thought you’d come here to see me.’
Adam sighed. ‘So I did, Loren. But not for the reasons you imagine. I have other things on my mind right now.’
Loren pulled out of his grasp. ‘Oh, have you?’
‘I’m afraid so.’ Adam raked a hand through his thick dark hair which persisted in falling across his forehead. ‘I’m sorry, Loren, but I’m not in the mood to play games!’
Loren compressed her lips. ‘You’re a cool devil, Adam,’ she exclaimed angrily. ‘You come here unexpected and unannounced, and then when I try to show you how pleased I am to see you, you treat it all like child’s play!’ She tossed her head. ‘I don’t know why I put up with it!’
Adam’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why do you?’ His tone was hard.
Loren looked at him impatiently, and then she gave a helpless gesture of submission. ‘Oh, Adam, don’t let’s quarrel! You know I don’t mean half of what I say. It’s just that I get so—so jealous—of your time—of everything.’
Adam’s face softened. ‘All right, Loren, we won’t quarrel. I just don’t know how to put what I have to say.’
Loren went and sat on a couch and patted the seat beside her invitingly, but Adam shook his head and paced rather restlessly about the room until Alice appeared with a tray of tea and some hot buttered scones which she placed on a low table in front of Loren. She smiled rather understandingly at him before leaving, and after she had gone, Loren picked up the teapot rather carelessly and began to pour some tea into the wafer-thin cups.
‘What is it about you that makes women feel so protective towards you?’ she asked tersely. ‘Honestly, Alice treats you like a long-lost son, and although she knows I hate tea she persists in making it because you’re here!’ She made a moue with her lips. ‘You don’t look in need of protection to me!’
Adam smiled and came to take the cup she held out for him. ‘Don’t be bitter!’ he commented mockingly, and she lifted her shoulders with some annoyance before squeezing lemon into her own tea and grimacing as she raised the cup to her lips.
‘Well, anyway,’ she went on, after taking several sips of the liquid, ‘why are you here? I’m sure you said it was your baby clinic this afternoon.’
‘It was.’ Adam bent and put one of the tiny scones into his mouth. ‘But Hadley is taking it for me.’
‘But why? You know we had a date for dinner after the play this evening. Can’t you make that?’ There was a taut resigned expression marring her perfect features now.
Adam shrugged. ‘Emergencies aside, I can’t see why not,’ he replied smoothly. ‘But what I have to tell you seemed better said when you’re fresh, and not when you’re tired after the play, as you invariably are.’
Loren frowned. ‘You make me sound like a creaking Madonna!’ she exclaimed. ‘I’m never too tired for you.’
He inclined his head slowly. ‘All right, perhaps I used the wrong expression. In any event, I wanted to talk to you now, while we’re alone, and not in some crowded restaurant.’
‘Well, do go on. I’m avid to hear what it is.’
Adam sighed, and replaced his tea cup on its saucer. ‘Well,’ he began carefully, ‘my mother has written to ask me to look after Maria for six months.’
There was silence for a long moment, and then Loren said, slowly: ‘Who is Maria?’
Adam shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘My stepsister. I’ve mentioned her.’
Loren’s nostrils flared slightly. ‘Your stepsister,’ she repeated tautly.
‘Yes.’
Loren rose to her feet, reaching for a cigarette from the box on the table and accepting the light Adam offered. Inhaling deeply, she looked intently at him. ‘Perhaps I’m slightly dense, Adam, but why have you to look after your stepsister for six months? I thought you told me she was practically grown-up?’
‘She is. At least, she must be. It’s five years since I last saw her. She was twelve or thirteen then, I’m not certain which.’
Loren was obviously controlling her temper with difficulty as she asked: ‘But your stepsister lives with your mother and her father in Ireland. Exactly why are you involved?’
Adam thrust his hands into his pockets. ‘She wants to come to London to take a secretarial course.’
‘A secretarial course?’ echoed Loren faintly. ‘Why can’t she take this course in Dublin or somewhere?’ Her eyes flashed with impatience.
Adam raised his eyebrows. ‘Your guess is as good as mine.’
‘But it’s ludicrous!’ Loren shook her head disbelievingly. ‘Saddling you with a teenage girl! What is your mother thinking of?’ Her eyes narrowed suddenly. ‘She knows about—me—doesn’t she?’
‘My mother? Of course.’
Loren nodded her head vigorously. ‘I thought so. That’s it, of course.’
Adam sighed. ‘What is “it"?’
‘She’s sending this girl here to spy upon us.’
‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous!’ Adam raked a hand through his hair. ‘I’m not a child, Loren. I am over thirty, you know.’
‘I know, darling, but until your mother married again, you were her little ewe-lamb, weren’t you?’
‘Loren, don’t talk such tripe! If she’s sending Maria to London, it must be because Maria wants to come.’
‘But why should she want to come?’
‘How the hell should I know?’ Adam strode across to the window. ‘What would you have me say? I’m sorry, but she can’t come. My—my mistress would object?’
Loren uttered a furious gasp. ‘You—you—’
‘Oh, save it!’ exclaimed Adam, turning round. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Nevertheless, it’s true. She is my stepsister, after all, and I don’t see much of her. As I recall she was a nice kid. At least she didn’t throw any tantrums when her father married my mother, and I know my mother found it easier because of her understanding. Girls of ten can be pretty difficult at times.’
Loren’s lips thinned. ‘And exactly where is she to live?’
Adam frowned. ‘At the house, I guess.’
‘At your house? In Kensington?’
‘I guess so, why?’
‘Isn’t that a little unorthodox?’
‘In this day and age! You must be joking?’
‘Nevertheless, you are—a—bachelor, you live alone—’
‘I have Mrs Lacey.