Page 41 of Signed, Sealed, Married

Adrenaline surged in Adam’s blood, pumping it fast and hard, demanding action. But first he needed to know for sure.

Instead of sitting beside her he hunkered before her, carefully not touching, though every instinct howled the need to take her in his arms.

‘Was it the phone?’

Her nod was jerky. ‘I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t...’

His suspicion clicked over into certainty and he fought nausea at the realisation.

‘But someone did.’ His voice wasn’t his own.

It wasn’t a question. He knew from her body language that they had, even before she nodded again. His hands clenched so hard he couldn’t feel his fingers. He swallowed hard, tasting bile.

‘It was—’

‘Would you like—’

They both stopped. Just as well. Adam had no idea what he could offer that would make her feel better. ‘You don’t need to explain.’

‘But I want to.’ Her gaze lifted to his, clear and blue. ‘I owe you that after...’

‘You owe me nothing.’

But he rose to take a seat beside her. Her smile was crooked and so endearingly courageous he felt a little of his turmoil ease. In its place rose pride and the respect for her that had been building day by day.

Silence lengthened between them but Adam was in no rush to end it.

‘It was years ago,’ she said eventually. ‘I was young and still remarkably naïve.’

‘It wasn’t your fault!’ Nothing could be plainer.

Gisèle reached out and touched his hand on the sofa between them. He wrapped his fingers around hers, relieved and grateful that she didn’t shy from his touch. It was clear that tonight had taken her back to a traumatic incident.

Blue-grey eyes surveyed him curiously. ‘You’re not the man I thought you were, Adam. Or at least not completely.’

Because he’d guessed what had happened to her and was outraged? What sort of man had she thought him?

Don’t go there, mate. You don’t want to know.

But he had a good idea. Heat singed his skin.

‘I reserve the right to some surprises.’

His tongue-in-cheek tone turned the twist of her lips into a gentle smile that squeezed his chest. ‘Oh, you definitely do that.’

She drew a deep breath and looked at their linked hands. ‘It’s not an uncommon story. There was a guy. He was so charming, so caring, so understanding. I was falling in love with him and thought he felt the same.’

She shook her head. ‘You’d think I’d have known better given my background.’

‘Your background?’ Adam didn’t want to interrupt but felt he’d missed something vital.

Gisèle shrugged and met his stare. ‘You know about my family. Successful and in the spotlight. But it was far more than that. In their time, my parents weretheEuropean glamour couple. The press couldn’t get enough of them. The public loved stories about the Fontaines.’ Her voice dropped. ‘Especially after my father died and my mother left us with our grandfather.’

She paused. ‘Julien and I learned there was no such thing as a secret shared among friends. Our comments were passed on, sometimes innocently, then twisted and misreported in the press. Everyone wanted the inside scoop on our family. Who we were, what we did, whether we’d measure up to our charismatic parents. It got so that we learned not to trust people outside the family or Fontaine’s.’

Adam felt his frown become a scowl, great trenches of anger furrowing his brow at the thought of children being pestered like that.

Absently he rubbed his fingertip over the crooked line of his nose. He’d fought his share of bullies. Even as a kid he’d made sure no one put his family down because of their straightened circumstances.

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