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Lucky for him, he held a small box in his hands. A present. That fiendishly charming dimple was forgiven at once.
Adam must have caught the acquisitive glitter in her eyes because he chuckled. He jerked his chin at the box. “As you can see, I brought you a gift.”
“You didn’t have to,” Evangeline told him. That didn’t stop her from reaching for it with greedy hands.
“My mother taught me never to come calling on a lady without something to offer. I could’ve brought you flowers, but that seemed too easy. You deserved something special.” His boyish grin sharpened, his dimple deepened, and Evangeline could feel her cheeks turning pink at the way he continued to stare. “Besides, I used to go to your birthday parties, Eva. You always got a kick out of a good present. Maybe, if you like mine, you won’t make me wait ten more years for another date.”
She had wondered if Adam would mention the few times they went out when they were in high school together. Choosing to ignore his comment—and just what he was implying—she busied herself with opening the small box. And, hey, if Adam wanted to call it a date, that was his business. As far as she was concerned, this was dinner. That was all.
That didn’t mean she was going to turn his present away. Growing up an admittedly spoiled only child, Evangeline knew a bribe when she saw one. As she lifted the lid and peeked inside, she hoped it was a good one.
Nestled inside on a bed of cotton was a small violet bottle with a stylized glass rose as a stopper. Liquid sloshed back and forth as she gave it a little shake. In tiny, pale purple print, it said: eau de parfum sorcière.
“Perfume?”
“Yeah. The girl I bought it from guaranteed it.”
Evangeline removed the stopper and sniffed. It was a soft perfume, some blend of vanilla, lilacs, and baby powder that seemed to calm her. It was exactly the sort of perfume she’d choose if she ever bothered to wear any.
“It’s lovely, Adam. Thank you.”
She was putting the stopper back in the bottle when he said, “Why don’t you try it on?”
“What? Right now?”
He nodded. “Why not?”
Once again, Evangeline had a vaguely unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach, as if there was some reason why she shouldn’t. Shoving it aside, she shrugged her shoulders and dabbed some of the perfume onto her wrists.
“You know where else you should put some? Let me show you.”
Then, before she could say no, Adam gently lifted the bottle out of her hand and, using his pointer finger as a stopper, sprinkled some of the perfume onto his skin. He stepped around her, scooping up her hair with one strong hand, settling it neatly over her shoulder. Once her neck was bare, Adam ran his finger along the back of it.
His touch was more like a caress, his voice gone impossibly deeper as he asked, “How’s that feel?”
Evangeline stiffened, and not entirely because of his unsolicited touch. With Adam pressed up against her back, she felt enveloped by his scent. And it wasn’t like he smelled bad. He didn’t. He smelled like freshly clean male, a combination of his shampoo, his soap, and his strong cologne. But that was just it—it was too much, almost like he was trying to cover something up. Breathing him in, she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was so, so wrong. She’d always liked a man who wore his musk proudly.
He had never—
The sharp, stabbing pain attacked her mid-thought. It was a pulsing migraine on steroids, ripping Evangeline from the present and throwing her into a silent, black void where the only things that existed were Evangeline and her agony.
It never lasted long—a few seconds at most—but it felt like an eternity before she recovered enough to open her eyes again.
Adam had moved. He was in front of her now, his hands reaching out to her, his concerned face only inches away from her. His eyes were wide and worried; the brown almost looked hazel this close, the golden flecks a small reminder of the man who haunted her dreams.
Gold. His eyes were the most beautiful golden color. He—
The room started to spin. The pain reverberated against her skull, pulsing, pounding, aching. She was more prepared this time. Clenching her jaw, pushing through the worst of the pain, she waited until the sensation had passed again.
She didn’t know how long he’d been calling her name. She figured that was the buzzing in the back of her head that abruptly stopped as soon as Adam saw that she was conscious and coherent.
He let out a sigh of relief, the rush of his breath tickling her nose. “You’re okay. Tell me you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” she lied. If she hadn’t been fine in years, he didn’t need to know that. Besides, she could fake it. How else had she been able to convince her parents to let her live on her own? “I— wait. Am I on the floor? How did I get on the floor?”
“You started to drop,” Adam told her, his voice wavering slightly. Her little spell had rattled him. “I didn’t want you to get hurt so I brought us both to t
he floor.”
