Compromising Positions (7 page)

“We have joint custody of this damn thing,” Sam said. “As long as Amelia agrees, then there won't be a problem. And she'll agree.”

By the time she came back downstairs, Sam and Benny had the bed pulled apart.

Amelia frowned. “What are you doing?”

“We're taking the bed to the inn,” Sam said. “We can't leave it here.”

After a long moment she nodded. “You're right. But this doesn't mean I'm giving up.”

Sam grinned. “I wouldn't expect you to.”

He wanted to yank her into his arms and kiss her, but he held his impulses in check. He had a plan for the bed—and the two of them—that would satisfy them both. Sam just wasn't sure for how long.

4

“W
HAT
IS
THIS
PLACE
?” Amelia asked, setting her overnight bag down in the small stone structure next to the inn.

“It was the kitchen before the kitchen was in the house,” Sam explained. “We use it as a guesthouse in the summer, but it only has the fireplace for heat, so it's empty for most of the rest of the year. Families like it. The inn doesn't have a lot of space for kids. And it's...private.”

Amelia wandered over to the huge hearth that dominated one wall of the fieldstone cottage. Before the advent of sprinkler systems and fire hydrants, the kitchens of Colonial homes, especially inns, were housed in separate buildings to prevent fires in the main living areas.

“This was the first building built on the property,” Sam said. “The bathroom is through that door. And there's a small kitchen behind that wall.” He bent over the hearth and lit the kindling that he'd laid in the hearth. Flames consumed the wadded newspaper and then began to crackle around the dry sticks. “If you could keep an eye on this, I'm going to check in with Sarah. I had 9-1-1 on my phone this morning. We'll unload the bed and set it up later.” Sam slowly stood and wiped his hands on his jeans. “I'll be right back.”

“Could you bring some coffee?” Amelia asked.

“I'll do better. I'll bring you breakfast.” He leaned closer and brushed a kiss across her cheek. But as he stepped away, his gaze fixed on her lips. In the space of a heartbeat, he pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his.

She should have known the nuances of his kisses by now, but each time their lips touched it was a powerful and unique experience. With this one, he didn't just press his mouth to hers or tantalize her with his tongue. This kiss was a full-on seduction, with ebbs and flows, peaks and valleys, designed to send her heart racing and her mind spinning.

As with their earlier encounters, Amelia was left wondering what awaited her beyond a kiss. She'd had a taste this morning when she'd pulled off her sweater. A shiver skittered through her as she recalled the sensation of his hands against her bare skin. If she had a choice in the matter, when he returned they'd pick up exactly where they'd left off.

“I'll be back in a few minutes,” he murmured. “Why don't you make yourself comfortable?”

He walked out and Amelia sat on the edge of a chair, watching the fire grow on the grate. She walked across the room and added a few larger logs to the fire, then moved to the door.

Her SUV was parked just outside with the keys still in the ignition. Her gaze darted to her bag, sitting nearby. There was nothing to stop her from leaving. She'd be back in Boston with the bed before sundown. It would be safely inside the Mapother with its alarms and steel gate and there'd be nothing he could do.

She'd stopped herself from leaving earlier because she wanted to live her life truthfully, no pretending and no manipulation. But wasn't she just sitting and waiting for someone to make decisions for her again? What was more important? Honesty or winning on her own terms?

Amelia took a shaky breath and reached down for her luggage. She chose to win.

She walked to the door and stepped outside. Her heart pounded so loud, Amelia was sure she could hear it echoing through the leafless trees. She hurried around to the driver's side and tossed her bags onto the backseat, then slipped behind the wheel.

She started the Lexus, wincing when the engine roared, and threw the SUV into gear. Thankfully Sam had backed the trailer up to the door, so she had a straight shot out of the driveway and onto the road.

By the time she reached the outskirts of town, she felt the first pangs of guilt. She didn't want to leave, but Amelia knew that her motives had changed considerably since she'd arrived in town.

At first, all she'd cared about was the Washington bed. But over the past few days she'd nearly forgotten her original purpose. She'd been caught up in this crazy infatuation that seemed to grow more powerful with each minute she spent with Sam.

The truth was that she'd never expected to feel this way about a man. She'd watched the rather cool relationship between her parents as she'd grown up and considered that the norm. And then with Edward, there had always been a distance between them. Though they knew each other well, they'd each kept a part of themselves away, behind the cover of propriety. Though their relationship had felt safe, it had never felt particularly complete.

Edward rarely teased her or joked around. He didn't look at her as if he might devour her at any moment. And sex was...perfunctory.

“Perfunctory,” Amelia muttered. She knew the meaning of the word, but she'd never admitted that it perfectly summed up her sex life with Edward.

She couldn't remember a time when he'd just grab her and kiss her for no reason. Or laughed out loud at something she said. The things she found amusing, he found odd. The things she found interesting, he found insignificant. She'd nearly settled for a marriage that would have been nothing more than a legal agreement with a very bland man.

“Bland man,” Amelia said, laughing softly. Why were all these things suddenly occurring to her now? When she'd left Edward, it hadn't been to find some grand passion. She'd expected to be satisfied with her career...until Sam had stumbled into her life. Or rather, she'd stumbled into his.

They made absolutely no sense together and yet he made her laugh. Such a simple thing, but it was something she couldn't imagine living without.

He also made her heart race and her pulse pound. When he touched her, she seemed to melt inside, the heat pooling in very specific spots. Amelia wanted to know how it would feel when he finally touched her everywhere.

She reminded herself that desire was just another form of control. And she wasn't sure she was strong enough to break that bond twice.

By the time she was ready to put the subject of sex with Sam aside, Amelia was thirty miles out of Millhaven, ready to hop on the I-90 to Boston. The guilt she'd felt earlier was gone, leaving her with the uneasy feeling that rationalizing her actions came quicker than expected.

The bed was hers. She had no question on that matter. Abigail had given it to the museum. And for all she knew, Sam's claim to the bed was bogus. Why would Abigail agree to buy the bed and then just give it back later?

Still, he'd trusted her and she'd betrayed him at the first available opportunity. Though they had battled over the bed, he didn't deserve that. Maybe she should have waited until they'd come to some sort of understanding or agreement before taking off.

The sound of a siren caught her attention and she slowed, searching for the source in her rearview mirror. The patrol car was approaching at a fast speed and Amelia carefully veered onto the side, waiting for him to pass. But to her surprise, he pulled in behind her.

“Oh, my God,” she murmured. Sam had called the police. He'd had her license number from when she'd registered at the inn! And she'd stolen a very valuable and historical piece of furniture. Never mind that it was technically half hers. Amelia's heart raced as she brought the SUV to a stop. Maybe there was another reason he'd pulled her over. But her registration was up-to-date and she'd made a complete stop at the entrance to the freeway. Just a routine stop, perhaps?

She glanced over at the passenger seat, searching for her purse. She panicked when it wasn't there, then realized it was on the backseat. She grabbed it.

It seemed to take hours before the highway patrolman got out of the car and approached her window. Amelia held her breath.

“License and registration,” he said.

“I don't think I was speeding,” Amelia said.

“License and registration,” he repeated.

Amelia rummaged through her wallet and produced the required items. She decided it would be best to hold her tongue and wait for the officer to speak.

“You're from Boston?”

“Yes, sir,” she said.

“What are you doing in the area?”

Did he already know? Should she be honest and admit her wrongdoing? “A little mini vacation.”

“What's in the trailer?”

She took a deep breath. Either he already knew the answer to that question or he didn't. If he did, then she'd be under arrest in a matter of minutes. How was she going to get out of jail? Who could she call?

“It's an antique bed,” Amelia said. She held her breath.

“Are you an antiques dealer?”

“No, I work for the Mapother Museum in Boston. I can show you my business card if you'd like.”

He nodded and Amelia retrieved a card from her purse. She held her breath as he examined it, then handed it back to her.

“You have a defective taillight on your trailer,” he finally said. “I'm giving you a warning but I'd advise you to pull off at the next exit and check on the connections.”

“I'll do that,” Amelia said. “Thank you.” She took the warning ticket he held out and tucked it in her purse, a flood of relief washing over her. “Thank you. Have a lovely day.”

He gave her a nod and walked back to his patrol car. Amelia watched his reflection in the driver's side mirror. Then she carefully pulled into traffic. He followed her closely for the next few miles, and when she reached the exit, Amelia turned off and he continued on down the interstate.

She parked the SUV and trailer in the lot near a filling station. Closing her eyes, she leaned back into the soft leather seat.

She was crazy to think there was anything more than simple lust between her and Sam. And her job was important. If she wanted to continue to live without help from her parents, she needed a decent income. All of which meant she had to return to Millhaven and make sure she owned the bed free and clear.

She'd come to an agreement with Sam about the bed. And they'd play out whatever crazy passion they had between them. But she wouldn't let him dictate her future.

* * *

“H
OW
MANY
ROOMS
do we have booked for tomorrow night?”

“Just three,” Sarah said. “But we have that big wedding party coming in this weekend. Friday and Saturday night we're completely booked.”

“Will James be able to install the new boiler by then?” Sam asked.

After leaving Amelia, Sam had walked into a disaster at the inn. Sometime during the early morning hours the old boiler that fed the inn's water-heating system had finally died. Though the death had been expected for at least the past fifteen or twenty years, there had never been enough money to replace it.

“James says that he can float us for his labor but we have to come up with the money for the boiler.”

“How much?”

“Nine thousand. He says we need two boilers, one for each wing. I suppose we could close off one wing and save a little money, but that's not going to help us this weekend. I'll see if I can find some space heaters. And we'll get all the fireplaces going.”

“How are we going to pay for this?” Sam asked, pacing back and forth in front of the desk. “My credit cards are maxed out. We've got nothing saved. And I've got a list of another ten projects that have to be done in the next year that will cost just as much.”

“We could ask Daddy for another loan.”

“No,” Sam said. “The inn is my responsibility.”

“How is this fair?” Sarah asked. “You didn't want this place. You should have just told him you weren't going to run it.”

“How was I supposed to say that to him? He spent his life keeping this place going just so he could leave it to us.” Sam took a deep breath. “Any ideas how we're going to pay for this?”

“We could sell something,” she said. “We could have sold the George Washington bed again if you hadn't given it to Amelia.”

“I didn't give it to Amelia,” he said.

“Then why did she leave with the trailer about a half hour ago?”

Sam gasped. “What?”

“Yeah. I just figured you'd worked out your deal with her and she was headed back to Boston.”

Sam shook his head. “We didn't have a deal. Not yet.” He chuckled softly. “I guess she got the best of me. I didn't think she'd just steal the bed.” Raking his hands through his hair, he cursed softly.

“You were down in the basement, looking at the boiler with Jerry. I assumed it had all been settled last night.” Sarah shrugged. “Maybe she just had a few errands to run. She'll probably be back.”

Sam shook his head. “No. She had no errands to run. I was going to get her breakfast and then I got distracted. She had a chance and she decided to take it.”

“A chance?”

“A chance to steal the bed. She's probably halfway to Boston by now.”

“I don't really understand why you're so obsessed with that silly bed. You didn't care about it when Abigail had it.”

“I thought we could sell it again,” Sam said.

In truth, it wasn't about the bed anymore. It was about the woman who wanted the bed. He'd already decided to give it to her. But he figured he could drag the fight out a little longer, to keep her in his life just a few days more before sending her home.

“Then go get it back from Amelia and see if you can work out a deal. But do it today. We have to get the new boiler paid for and installed in the next forty-eight hours or wedding attire will have to include down-filled jackets. No bride wants the space-heaters-and-outerwear look.”

“Our electrical system won't be able to handle all those space heaters,” Sam said. “We'll be blowing circuits all weekend long. And they're a fire hazard.” He cursed softly. Sam hated living this way, when every day was a potential disaster just waiting to happen.

When he'd started managing the inn, business had been good for the first couple years. He'd even managed to put away a nice little nest egg he'd hoped to spend on a tropical vacation or maybe a fishing boat. But that had disappeared over the past few years, along with every ounce of credit he possessed. Bad plumbing, spotty electrical systems, a new roof, two crumbling chimneys...the list seemed endless.