Michael Reynolds loved her. He loved her! She’d heard him as clear as day before they fell asleep.
I love you.
Now she was awake and staring into the beautiful face of the man who loved her. The man she loved back most madly. And suddenly all her worries about him wanting to end things, and her having to go along with it because she didn’t want him hurt, seemed a foolish waste of time.
But now that she knew, she was going to enjoy every second of the happiness she and Michael would share. Together. She couldn’t stop herself from cradling his stubbled cheek in her hand. He was so beautiful. He stirred in his sleep so she brushed her lips across his.
“Good morning, Michael.”
He smiled sleepily with his eyes still closed. The smile of a content man. She grinned back at him with her eyes shining. But then his eyes snapped open, the grin transforming into a frown.
“Morning, beautiful,” he said, scrambling out of bed and picking up his clothes from the floor.
“Michael?”
“I shouldn’t have kept you here last night,” he said with regret written across his face as he hastily put on his clothes.
Was that all he had to say? Was he trying to gloss over the fact that he’d told her he loved her last night?
“You didn’t keep me here. I chose to stay the night with you. Because I wanted to,” she said, her concern turning into irritation.
“I’m going to leave now. You can leave in an hour or so. It’s not much, but at least we won’t run the risk of being photographed together.”
“You can’t leave now.” She was at a disadvantage for this discussion, naked in bed while he was fully dressed. She wrapped the sheet around herself and got to her feet. “Not until we’ve talked.”
“I have to. We’ll talk later. I promise.” He walked over to her and gently squeezed her shoulders. “But you wanted to keep our relationship a secret. We can’t become careless two days before the event. Did you forget your grandmother’s admonition?”
“Of course, I didn’t forget. This fashion show’s more important to me than to anyone else. But what we have to discuss is even more important.”
“Your image has been rehabilitated and the charity event is poised for success. Having a picture of us walking out of the hotel together will be a disaster. We’ll talk tonight.”
“I thought you finally saw me as a grown woman who could make her own decisions. I don’t need anyone—including you—to tell me what’s best for me.”
“Come on, Adelaide.” He ran his hand through his already tousled hair. “You’re not being fair. I’m trying to do my job.”
“Fine. Do your job. But you can wait an hour, because I’ll be leaving first. I have work to do.”
She grabbed her crumpled clothes and got dressed in the bathroom. She was too furious to bother washing her hair, so she put it up in a loose knot at the top of her head. She buttoned her blazer, hoping it hid her lost shirt buttons sufficiently. When she came out, Michael was pacing the bedroom with worry written across his face.
“Adelaide,” he said, coming toward her with his hand outstretched.
“Keep your hands off of me,” she snapped, stepping out of his reach. The man had told her he loved her last night, and now he was pretending nothing happened. Her grandmother was important. Her dreams were important. But so was love. Love was very important.
“I know. I know what you want to talk about. But it has to wait. Right now we need to stop this catastrophe from happening, then we can talk,” Michael said, a hint of desperation in his voice.
“What’s half an hour going to change? We need to talk now.”
“It’s still early enough in the morning when not a lot of people would see us. We need to leave as soon as possible.”
“Fine. I’m leaving.”
“Not like that,” Michael pleaded, jumping into the elevator with her. “Don’t leave angry. I’m only doing this to protect you.”
“Do me a favor, and don’t,” she snapped, and stepped out of the elevator when the doors opened in the lobby.
“Adelaide. You can’t leave like this.”
She kept walking and had stepped out through the exit when Michael gripped her arm. She jerked her arm free. “Why ever not?”
He didn’t have a chance to respond before a handful of paparazzi surrounded them, snapping picture after picture.
After everything she’d accomplished, he’d done this to her. Two days before the event. He’d broken her heart, ruined her reputation and jeopardized her career. He’d done this.
He put his arm around her, tucking her head into his chest, and hurried her to his car. Quickly settling her into the passenger seat, Michael jumped into the driver’s seat and drove away from the flashing cameras.
“Goddammit,” he yelled, pounding his hand on the wheel. “I’m sorry, Adelaide. But I’ll take care of it. I won’t let anything harm you.”
“Actually, I can take care of this on my own,” she said in a cold, poised voice. “I have the interview with the morning show scheduled for tomorrow. I’ll take a moment to defuse any rumors. Those pictures cannot affect the fashion show.”
“But they could ambush you on live TV.”
“I can handle it,” she snapped. “You need to stop underestimating me.”
“That’s not—”
“I can’t do this right now. Please take me home.”
“Not the office?”
“And what? Are you going to face Grandmother on your own?” He shut his mouth. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten about Mrs. Song. She should’ve been on the top of his list for troubleshooting. He was so worried for Adelaide that he wasn’t thinking straight, and that wasn’t helping anyone, especially her. “Her schedule is open this morning, so she should be home.”
“Okay. I’ll take you home.”
“It’s nice to finally agree on something.” She was fuming, and he couldn’t blame her.
They drove to Pacific Palisades in stilted silence, and Michael’s mind was spinning with how they would explain themselves to Mrs. Song.
“We need to figure out what we’re telling your grandmother,” he said, breaking the silence with a businesslike tone.
They couldn’t let their emotion overtake them right now. They had to come up with a plausible explanation to convince Mrs. Song that Adelaide was dedicated to the fashion show and not up to her old ways. This morning shouldn’t reflect negatively on the hard work she’d put in so far.
“We’re telling her the truth,” she said, still looking out the window.
“Excuse me?” He must’ve misheard her. They couldn’t admit to breaking her trust. Not now.
“You heard me. Lying by omission is one thing, but I’m not going to lie to my grandmother’s face.”
“You can’t do that. Think about what’s at stake.”
“I know exactly what’s at stake. I never lost sight of it for a second. But with what happened, I have to own up to it and trust Grandmother to understand why we did what we did.”
Michael gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. Why we did what we did. Why indeed? To satiate our physical needs? Hell, no. It was love. It was always love. But he couldn’t admit that to Adelaide in front of Mrs. Song. He couldn’t allow them to enter into a battle of wills over him. He wasn’t worth it. He refused to allow this to happen just days before the fashion show.
Adelaide seemed to take his silence for acquiescence and didn’t argue further, but Michael knew exactly what he had to do.
She let herself out of the car when he parked, and he followed her into the house. Liliana met them at the door, but her smile slid off her face as soon as she saw their expressions. “Mrs. Song is in the study.”
“Thank you,” Michael said quietly, and followed Adelaide down the hallway.
Adelaide knocked on the door without hesitation, determination etched into her face.
“Come in,” Mrs. Song said from behind the door. When the two of them walked in, her eyes rounded ever so slightly. “What are you two doing here at this hour? I trust there are no problems with the fashion show.”
“No, there are no problems with the show. We came because we have something to tell you. Michael and I’ve been seeing each other,” Adelaide said without preamble.
When she took a breath to continue, Michael cut in. “But it’s over now. Spending so much time together the last few months brought up some emotions we mistook for love. We’re past it and have been fully focused on the fashion show.”
Adelaide gazed at him with heartbreak in her eyes. Damn it. Her look tore him with guilt and regret like physical pain. But he couldn’t stop now. He had to be strong for both of them.
“What is this all about?” Mrs. Song said with quiet command. It was clear she expected them to tell her everything this instant.
“We were seen coming out of Garrett’s penthouse this morning, and there are going to be pictures,” Adelaide said boldly.
“We were working on last-minute preparations for the event,” he interrupted once more. “But the media is going to try to spin it into something entirely different.”
“You two were careless enough to let this happen two days before the fashion show?” Mrs. Song demanded, her voice rising.
“Call it last-minute nerves. Preoccupation with D-Day.” He kept his tone even and professional. After all, this was a business discussion. “Whatever the reason, we made a mistake, but we will fix the situation, Mrs. Song.”
“Is this true, Adelaide?”
“Yes, Hal-muh-nee. We made a mistake,” she said to avoid lying outright to her grandmother, and glared at him with eyes filled with resentment. He’d pushed her into a corner, smothering her efforts to tell the truth. Her shoulders dropped imperceptibly, but her disappointment was palpable. Michael felt a fissure opening up in the center of his heart. “I’m going to handle this situation, and pull off the fashion show without a hitch. I won’t disappoint you.”
“This is not the time for arguments or division in our family. What happened has happened. I trust you to correct the situation,” Mrs. Song said, to Adelaide and Michael’s shock. “You can do this. You must do this. Your position at Hansol still depends on the success of the fashion show. I won’t be an obstacle in your way, but I’m not holding your hand through this. You are a Song. Show me what you’re made of.”
Thank God. Adelaide still has a chance. Her dream is alive and well. But the cracks in his heart still grew and spread to the outer edges. It was a miracle it didn’t crumble all together.
“I’m sorry about this mess, but nothing is going to derail the show,” Adelaide said with absolute conviction. “Your trust in me won’t be misplaced, Grandmother.”
But Michael knew Adelaide’s trust in him was destroyed for good.