Duplicity by Hinze Vicki

Duplicity by Hinze Vicki

Author:Hinze, Vicki
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Magnolia Leaf Press
Published: 2014-05-12T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Eighteen

They drove east.

At nine PM, Tracy figured she had kept quiet long enough. She was angry with Adam. Angry because he had frightened her in her home, because he had raised doubts in her mind about Paul, and because he made her feel things for him she didn’t want to feel. And that anger had her lashing out. “I realize I’m your captive, but I’m only human. I’m tired, hungry, and I want a bath.” Since her fever had broken—she still swore he had scared it out of her—she had felt clammy. She needed a shower in the worst way, and a shampoo. Her tangled hair had dried in clumps. No self-respecting cat would even drag her in.

“Sorry.” He laughed. “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. We just needed to put some distance behind us.”

“That’s another thing,” she said. “Where are we going?”

“Greenland.”

“Greenland?” she all-but shouted. “We can’t go to another country.”

Adam glanced her way. “Greenland, Mississippi. It’s about five more miles. Can you wait that long?”

Not wanting him to see her relief, she turned flippant. “Would it matter if I couldn’t?”

Regret flickered through his eyes. “Not really.”

Not at all surprised, she dropped him a curt nod. “Five miles will be fine, then.”

He smiled. Not with his mouth, but with his eyes.

She hated it. Hated the good feelings it aroused in her as much as she hated liking his approval. Yet Adam hadn’t had much to smile about in his life and that she had dredged one out of him brought her a secret pleasure she couldn’t deny, not without lying to herself. She didn’t happen to like that, either. Contrary, she frowned at him and looked out the side window.

They drove the rest of the way in silence.

Adam took the Greenland exit, then drove down to the Lucky Pines Motor Lodge.

When he turned in, Tracy had to stifle a groan. The paint was peeling off the wooden building, exposing weathered gray wood. The metal “Office” sign, suspended from a square of angle iron, hung crookedly, dangling by a length of chain attached to one eyebolt. The other side’s chain hung loose, dragging the ground. Cottages had been staggered haphazardly across the lot, and nearly every vehicle in sight was a mud-splattered pickup truck, parked in red dirt and knee-high weeds. “Are we staying here?” It looked like a joint with hourly rates.

“Unless your rich husband left you an estate in the immediate vicinity.”

“Matthew didn’t leave me anything,” she said before thinking. Adam’s surprised look put her on the defensive. “We were too busy getting through law school to worry about wills.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Not because of how Adam might take them, but because they made her think. Until Adam had come along and left her his bequest, had risked exposing himself to protect her, and had bought her orange juice, she’d really believed that about Matthew and wills—that he’d been too busy to think about protecting her. But now, she wondered.



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