A Perilous Eden by Heather Graham Page B

the seating arrangements. We’re all at the senator’s table.”
    Leave it to matchmaking Myra, Amber thought. She was married, but Michael Adams was young and unattached, and so was Amber.
    It was what she had wanted, wasn’t it? Amber thought. But she didn’t know. The more she saw of Michael, the less it seemed that she could ever know or understand him. One moment he beckoned to her; the next he thrust her away. Far, far away.
    â€œWhere do you live?” he asked her as they started down the stairs to the dining room.
    â€œNow?”
    His brow arched. “Do you live different places at different times?”
    â€œDo you?”
    â€œYes,” he answered flatly. “And you?”
    â€œI’ve just moved back to Washington.”
    â€œFrom where?”
    â€œAtlanta.”
    â€œUm,” he said, but there was something about the way he said it.
    â€œAnd what does that mean?”
    â€œIt means you’ve just come from some great and traumatic relationship. Be careful on the rebound, Miss Larkspur.”
    â€œI’m not on the rebound.”
    â€œI’ll bet you are.” He stopped walking suddenly. They were at the foot of the stairs, and he swung toward her, one foot on the bottom step, the bulk of his body preventing her from further movement. “They say that most women need a quick and careless affair after something like that. Just someone to clean away the past. Someone they may not even care to know well, but someone who attracts them on the most basic level. It shouldn’t be me. I’m warning you—it shouldn’t be me.”
    Amber was nearly speechless. “What!” she snapped.
    â€œI said—”
    She shoved him, her hands planted firmly upon his chest. He moved, giving way for her. “Amber, I’m trying—”
    â€œDon’t try!” she retorted, her chin high as she headed toward the dining room. There were no lines at the doorway. The second-seating passengers must have already entered. Good. She could walk in with dignity and ignore Michael Adams.
    No … she couldn’t.
    She stopped and swung around. “I should warn you. I find you to be one of the most obnoxious men I’ve ever met, and it’s really a pity that your worth can’t possibly measure up to your ego. I’m not on the rebound, I am not looking for an affair, and I most assuredly have no desire to go to bed with you.”
    They were close. They weren’t touching, but they were close. She felt the curious ice and fire of his eyes upon her as if he was touching her.
    He smiled slowly. Ruefully. “That’s good,” he said softly. “Because I do want to go to bed with you , and it would be a mistake. A horrible mistake.”
    He walked past her and into the dining room. Amber stood still for several seconds, shocked by his admission.
    Then she wanted to scream. She was tired of him delivering his curt, crude and commanding statements—then walking on and leaving her standing.
    She swung around again, determined to maintain her composure. She entered the dining room, and a maître d’ was quickly at her side. She asked for Senator Daldrin’s table and was quickly escorted to it.
    The table was full, except for her place, which was beside Adams. The men all stood for her arrival. Adams pulled out her chair politely while the others greeted her.
    She thanked him equally politely and sat. She felt the whisper of his breath against her cheek as he pushed in her chair.
    â€œAmber, it’s good to see you,” Ian Daldrin said as he buttered a roll. She looked across the table at him. The senator was smiling, but she felt that his words were a lie. He wasn’t glad to see her, not at all. What was going on here?
    â€œThank you, Senator.”
    â€œDoes your father know you’re here?”
    She gritted her teeth in silence and swallowed hard before answering. “I’m not