Married By Mistake

finger, he answered it. “Dad loved the business.”
    She examined Adam’s mother’s ring, saddened that the woman who’d worn it before her had been unloved, at least by her husband. “You loved your Mom,” she said to Adam.
    “It wasn’t enough,” he said flatly. “She needed my dad, but it seemed he just didn’t have it in him to love people. Like an illness that wasn’t his fault.”
    Suddenly, Casey had an inkling about something. “What about Eloise?”
    Adam scowled. “When he met Eloise he became a different person. He was crazy about her.” His mouth tightened.
    “You were jealous of Eloise?”
    “I wasn’t jealous, I was angry,” he said calmly, but she could see a glint in his eyes. “Dad was so besotted with her, he lost all sense of balance. He lost focus at work—he’d take days off at a time to go away with her. He spent a fortune and let the business slide. Then I discovered—” He bit off his next words, pressed his lips together.
    “But things came out right?” Casey asked.
    Adam shrugged one shoulder uneasily. “When he woke up to how much trouble we were in, Dad did what he had to do. He mortgaged his house and poured money from his personal investments in to save the business and settle some of the lawsuits against the company. But he didn’t want to tell Eloise. So she kept spending. Dad had a heart attack and died six months later.” Adam paused, then delivered his damning judgment. “Because of Eloise, he lost control of the business he loved and paid for it with his life.”
    “Adam, I’m so sorry.” Casey reached across the table and took his hand. Absently, he stroked the back of hers with his thumb, drawing a tingling energy to that spot.
    “I’ve spent nearly seven years paying off the debts, getting back on top. It’s been hard work, but they’re all cleared. We’re profitable, we’re poised for major growth and we’re finally starting to attract the bigger advertisers.”
    “You love that business as much as your father did,” Casey observed. Suddenly, Adam’s single-minded pursuit of what he wanted didn’t seem selfish. It seemed like the only way he’d been able to get by.
    He pulled his hand away. “I shouldn’t have said anything—now your heart is going to bleed all over me. Forget it, Casey, it’s all in the past.”
    “If you say so,” she said doubtfully.
    “Then stop frowning.” He stroked a finger across her forehead.
    “Frowning is your thing,” she said. “Don’t tell me we’re already getting into that behave-alike married-couple thing.”
    Adam smiled reluctantly. “No chance of that.”
    * * *
    C ASEY FELL IN LOVE with the Aston Martin DB9 the moment Adam started the engine. Its quiet purr, the sensation of controlled power, its smooth acceleration to speeds she’d never traveled at before—it was bliss.
    “This is wonderful, Adam. We’ll be in Parkvale in an hour at this rate,” she said in gross exaggeration as they sped northeast on I-40.
    Adam eased off the gas a fraction. “It’s a fast car,” he agreed modestly.
    They drove in silence for a while, but Casey found that when she was left alone with her thoughts, the air seemed to prickle with her awareness of Adam. To relieve the tension, she told him her theory about the Aston Martin as sublimation of his NASCAR ambitions. He snorted, but apparently didn’t consider that worthy of comment.
    “I don’t suppose you want to drive my car back to Memphis and let me take this one?” she ventured some time later.
    He started, as if she’d suggested an equal division of assets at the end of their month. “No one drives this car except me.”
    Casey sighed. “You NASCAR drivers are so selfish.” That earned another snort.
    Halfway there they stopped for gas. Relief propelled Adam out of the car. At last, a chance to put some distance between them. Didn’t Casey realize the navy linen skirt, which looked so prim and proper, rode up her thighs every time she twisted to talk to him? A guy could crash his phenomenally expensive car with that kind of distraction.
    Adam got back into the Aston Martin resolving to keep conversation—and thus thigh baring—to a minimum. But five minutes into the second half of the trip, it occurred to him he wasn’t sure what to expect in Parkvale.
    “Should I be worried about meeting your family?” he asked. “What are we going to say to them?”
    Casey twisted in her red leather seat. Adam kept his gaze fixed on the