Page 61 of The Sun & Her Burn

For the first time since we started this arrangement, I felt like I had seen into Adam’s soul.

And the glimpse only made me eager for more.

He was completely composed by the time we met in the foyer forty minutes later. Dressed in a thin, forest-green polo that hugged his muscular torso and black jeans with black aviators covering verdant-green eyes, I knew he had pulled himself together behind his Hollywood armor, and I wouldn’t get another glimpse unless I dug for it.

Unwilling to spook him, I’d taken his offered hand and followed him to the garage without commenting on the sleek black Ferrari he chose from his collection to take us into Malibu. The car ride was equally quiet, his gaze frequently touching myface as I tapped my thigh to the music and studied the city rushing by outside the window.

I might have looked tranquil, but I was plotting.

By the time we were seated at a discreet table in the corner of the oceanfront patio, Adam was almost relaxed.

I let him order a drink—sparkling water with lemon instead of hard booze, which I thought he would order to take the edge off—before settling in.

“It seems we both know what it’s like to be kissed by Sebastian,” I mused blandly.

Adam choked on his sparkling water and coughed into his fist.

I smiled placidly at him.

“What the bloody hell, Linnea,” he growled. “We’re in public.”

I rolled my eyes. “At a secluded table.”

“There are listening ears everywhere,” he whispered with a glower.

“I’m not judging you. Clearly, I have a weakness for Italians with golden eyes, too.”

“Nea,” he snapped.

And I liked the nickname, even if he spoke it harshly.

So I beamed at him. “He unsettles you.”

“You unsettle me,” he grumbled, looking down at his menu.

“Good,” I declared. “You need unsettling.”

He sighed, closing his menu to lean over the table, his green eyes so bright against his tanned skin and burnished-gold hair. “My life was fine before Oscar Hampton threatened to ruin it.”

“By outing you,” I said softly.

Adam scanned the restaurant behind me and nodded tersely.

I reached across the table to take his bandaged hand into mine, rubbing my fingers along the backs of his knuckles.Almost reluctantly, some of the tension in his shoulders lessened.

“Why would he do such a thing?” I asked.

For a long moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer, his gaze caught somewhere in a distant memory.

“He was an old acquaintance of my ex-wife and myself,” he said carefully, leveling me with a heavy glance that said that was a euphemism. “He was…unhappy with the termination of his tenor with us.”

I had to roll my lips between my teeth to hide my inappropriate smile. Only, I’d just realized Adam spoke even more formally in that crisp upper-class accent when he was being guarded, and it was wildly endearing.

“It seems you and your ex-wife had an interesting relationship,” I mused.

His gaze narrowed, but the server chose that moment to return to take our lunch orders. I was starving after surfing, so I ordered the burger with a side of Parmesan truffle fries.

Adam shook his head slightly at my order, rubbing a hand across his mouth as if he could erase the smile threatening to claim it.