Love's Providence: A Contemporary Christian Romance by Jennifer H. Westall

Author:Jennifer H. Westall [Westall, Jennifer H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-05-23T19:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

August 22

New York City

Alex stood in front of the apartment door and gathered his nerves, preparing for a confrontation. He shook off the remnants of the rain from his hair, and then he reached out his fist and knocked three times. At least he knew for certain she was here. The guard in the lobby had confirmed that. Of course, he’d also had to flash his badge to get up here, so the guard might have already alerted her that he was coming. If she tried to duck out again he might just lose it.

Just when his frustration began to mount, Adrian swung the door open. The first thing he noticed was the satisfied grin that spread over her face. It nearly made him sick. He tried to appear unaffected as she stretched her arm up the door frame and rested the other on her hip. She’d dyed her hair blond, and she’d lost weight since he’d seen her back in March, too much weight.

A black cocktail dress hugged her slim waist and dipped dangerously between her breasts. Her eyes flickered with amusement, a cold green he could swear had once been a soft brown. But then, so many things had changed it was hard to keep track.

“Well, hey there, stranger.” She ran a glance up his body until her gaze returned to his. “I knew you’d show up here sooner or later.”

“You didn’t leave me much choice.”

Her grin was her only response. God, he hated playing into her manipulations, but it was the only way to finally be free of this nightmare.

“Look, can we just get this over with?”

“My house is your house.” She pushed the door open wider. “Come on in.”

He followed her through the foyer into a modest-sized living room, apparently decorated professionally. What struck him was the complete absence of color. Everything in the room was white or silver and oddly immaculate.

“I thought you hated white furniture.”

She glanced back at him and lifted an eyebrow. “I never said that.”

“You said it was arrogant to flaunt it if you were rich enough or anal enough to keep white furniture clean. It was why you didn’t want to rent that house on Reynolds Street.”

“No, I just didn’t want to be scared to walk out the door to my car.”

“So you moved to New York instead?”

“Are you really here to argue with me about white furniture?”

He willed his mouth shut. He didn’t need to get distracted by petty arguments. It was exactly what she wanted.

“No, let’s just get on with it.”

She gestured to the sofa. “Would you like to sit in here, or do you want to get a drink and sit in the kitchen?”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, you look like you could use a beer. Follow me.”

She led him into the kitchen where he took a seat at the glass-topped breakfast table. Again, he noted the stark white floor and counter tops. The whole place was blinding. She’d never been messy, but she hated cleaning. It would take a full-time maid to keep her apartment this spotless.

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