A Kiss Too Late. Ellen James

      Adam gave her a fleeting smile and climbed back in his car. Jen watched it disappear down the drive. And she wished, quite suddenly, that she’d let Adam stay here with her, after all.

      * * *

      ADAM DROVE BACK OUT the gates, only to slow the car to a halt. He couldn’t explain why he wasn’t phoning the newspaper. He usually checked in to see how things were going; he rarely took this much time off. Hell, he shouldn’t be taking off time at all, not when he had Darnard Publishing looking to close a deal with him. They were making a generous offer for the paper. Very generous. Yet Adam still couldn’t force himself to sign on the dotted line.

      Now he thought about Jen. That his ex-wife was a distraction there could be no doubt. More than a distraction. These days she seemed to have gained a special vibrancy, as if living in that run-down apartment of hers in New York actually suited her. Of course, she still had the patrician air that was her hallmark. That was the joke: for as long as Adam had known Jen, she’d fought against her aristocratic heritage, despising the fact that her maternal ancestors boasted a distant connection to Stuart royalty. And yet Jen moved with a naturally aristocratic bearing, something she couldn’t disguise. It showed in the confident way she walked, the way she could make even faded jeans and a T-shirt seem like the latest fashion. Meanwhile, her gray eyes betrayed the passion she tried to keep hidden underneath….

      Damn. She was getting to him all over again. He’d hoped he’d worked Jenny out of his system that night in New York. He’d thought it would be safe, going to pick her up today and setting her straight about her family. He’d been wrong. Of course, he’d been wrong about Jenny plenty of times before.

      Adam started the car moving again, but he didn’t call the paper. Instead, he went down the road and turned in at yet another pair of gates. A few minutes later he swung the car around in front of a rambling, gabled villa built of mellowed stone. It had been his parents’ home, the house where he’d grown up. He rarely came here anymore, and he couldn’t explain the impulse that had brought him today.

      Adam climbed the porch steps and unlocked the front door. He moved restlessly through the dim, musty rooms with their shrouded furniture and drawn curtains. A caretaker cleaned and dusted the rooms periodically, yet still the place smelled of decay to Adam. All about him, the air hung heavy and stale from disuse.

      He knew he ought to have sold the house years ago. After all, he wasn’t a sentimental person. But it was one more thing he couldn’t explain–why he held on to a house that felt more and more like a mausoleum with each passing year.

      Adam frowned as he paced the drawing room. He didn’t care for niggling emotions he couldn’t explain. Now he glanced at the portrait of his parents that still hung in an alcove. It was a realistic portrayal, showing his mother and father turned toward each other, focusing solely on each other rather than gazing out at the rest of the world. Adam paused and studied the portrait for some moments. That was a mistake, of course, for he felt remnants of the old sensations rise within him–sorrow and guilt and anger. But it had all happened such a long time ago. Surely with a little effort he could make himself forget.

      Adam turned from the portrait and strode outside, gazing across the wide lawn. Off among the trees he could see the rooftop of the Hillard house. His family and Jen’s had lived side by side for decades, and Adam couldn’t help feeling protective toward Jen’s two great-uncles and toward her mother. He didn’t like the sadness he’d sensed in them, ever since his divorce from Jen and her refusal to visit Newport.

      Adam gazed speculatively at the Hillards’ rooftop. That was a problem he could tackle–convincing Jen her family needed more from her. He just had to make sure his involvement didn’t go beyond that.

      Where Jen was concerned, he wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.

       CHAPTER THREE

      J EN GLANCED once again at the elaborate clock that presided on the mantelpiece. She’d always disliked that clock, with its fussy, scrolled trim in gilded bronze. Nonetheless, the minute hand accurately indicated that Jen had been waiting in the living room for almost half an hour. This was so typical of her mother. Visiting her was like trying to see a head of state. The housekeeper had sternly ushered Jen into the living room, instructed her to remain there and stalked off to inform “madame” of this intrusion. Throughout the years, Jen’s mother had employed a long line of equally stern housekeepers, who invariably considered it their duty to obliterate any homey detail in the Hillard mansion.

      As Jen attempted to find a comfortable spot on the silk-brocade sofa, she felt more and more like someone waiting to petition the Queen. But she rejected the alternative of going upstairs to search for signs of life. Her great-uncles were never home at this time of day–not that Jen could have counted on them to ease the tension. At any rate, Jen would just wait here and let her mother make a grand entrance, if that was what she wanted.

      At last the tap of heels sounded in the hall, and Beth Hillard appeared in the doorway. She smiled graciously, as if to an audience.

      “Jenna, come here and give your poor old mother a kiss.” Beth Hillard looked anything but poor and old. A slender woman of fifty-six, she could easily have passed for ten years younger. Her hair was still as dark as Jen’s, her skin still fresh and barely lined. If on occasion Beth cultivated an air of frailty, it was simply to put others off guard. In reality, Beth Hillard was a shrewd, determined woman.

      Now she held out her arms, and Jen went to give her a dutiful hug. As usual, a cloud of fragrance enveloped her, a floral perfume that Beth had been using forever. It reminded Jen of roses preserved under glass, and it always made her stomach tighten with some vague apprehension. Today was no different.

      “We won’t quarrel this time,” Beth murmured against Jen’s ear, like someone delivering a subliminal message. “Absolutely not.”

      Jen extricated herself from the embrace, battling a familiar annoyance. “If I recall, Mother, last time you were the one who quarreled with me.”

      Beth surveyed her daughter. “Never look to place blame, dear. It’s unladylike. Besides, today I’m willing to make allowances. I absolutely refuse to get upset.”

      Jen stifled a groan of frustration. During the past year, her mother had stirred up several arguments with her, usually via the telephone. On one awkward occasion, she’d insisted on meeting in New York. Lunch with Beth had not been a pleasant encounter, by any means.

      Now Beth led Jen back to the sofa and urged her to sit. “Come, let’s have a chat. You must be terribly surprised that I’m marrying Phillip–on the spur of the moment like this!”

      Jen noted the sparkle in her mother’s eyes. “Considering that you’ve been engaged to the man for years, Mother, ’surprised’ isn’t exactly the term. Let’s just say I’m happy for you and Phillip. Really I am.”

      “You know, Jenna, I’ve been foolish to make Phillip wait so long,” Beth said. “I’m glad I’ve finally made up my mind to go ahead. And that brings us to the subject of you and Adam…”

      “I don’t quite see the connection,” Jen muttered.

      Beth tucked up her feet and settled back in a corner of the sofa. In her bright turquoise blouse and flowered skirt, she made a splash of color against the pale cushions. Beth always dressed to stand out among subdued surroundings; it was part of her flair.

      “I want to know how you’ve reacted to seeing Adam,” she said. “Let’s be frank, dear. Don’t tell me the experience didn’t affect you.”

      Jen struggled with another surge of annoyance. “Mother, how many times do I have to tell you it’s over between Adam and me? It was an underhanded trick, sending him to New York to tell me about the wedding.”

      Beth shrugged. “I just think you ought to get your feelings out in the open. Let’s be honest. You can’t deny that Adam is someone special.”