My eyes adjusted to the dimly lit interior, and I glanced around. A winding iron staircase circled up and up. Standing in the center of the lighthouse, staring up, it had the appearance of a black snail that had attached itself to the smooth, conical interior walls. A few tiny, recessed windows along the staircase provided the only illumination, dust motes swirling in the strips of light streaming in.
“Can we go up?” I asked, nodding to the spiraling steps.
“Yeah,” Adam said. “But we’ll have to be careful. It’s damp in here, and the steps are bound to be slippery.” And many of them were, but Adam was right behind me the whole way up. Ready to catch me if I fell.
Higher and higher we ascended. I stopped counting the steps when I reached two hundred, gasping when I made the mistake of glancing down.
I felt Adam’s hands come to rest above my hips. “I’m right behind you; you’ll be fine,” he promised. “We’re almost there.”
A few more steps and we reached a service room, no longer in use, of course. A small wooden ladder was attached to the wall. Adam climbed up first and then offered me a hand. “Still want to come up? Or are you backing out?” he asked. His tone was playful, and I could tell he was trying to put me at ease.
The ladder led to the lantern room, which was enclosed by large, glass storm panes. I wasn’t afraid anymore, so I took his hand and said, “I made it this far, didn’t I?”
“Brave girl,” Adam said as he hoisted me up with ease.
We’d finally reached the very top. I walked over to the large, dusty lens of the lighthouse beacon. Reaching out to brush away a few cobwebs, I said, “Think of all the sailors this light once guided to safety.”
“Or warned of the danger,” Adam added, though he said it so quietly I barely heard him.
I turned away from the lens and walked over to place my hand on one of the storm panes that separated us from the harsh elements. It was like being on a viewing deck, but unfortunately the thick haze of white made it impossible to see more than a few feet beyond the structure.
“I bet the view from up here is amazing on a clear day,” I said, sighing as I stared out into the dense veil of fog.
“It is.” Adam’s breath brushed over my hair as I felt him come up behind me. “There are hidden caves in the face of the cliffs.” He pointed, but there was entirely too much fog. “You can see them best from up here. When there’s no fog, of course.”
“Oooh, hidden caves. Sounds spooky,” I said, pretending to shudder. “You’ll have to show me sometime.” I leaned back into him, and he circled his arms around me, his heart a soothing tattoo of beats against my spine.
“I will. I’ll bring you back up here when it’s sunny.”
“Promise, Adam?” I asked coyly.
He spun me around so we were face-to-face, and I leaned back against the metal handrail. He said, “Under one condition.”
Oh, this is getting interesting.
I raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Do go on, Mr. Ward.”
“Let me take you to dinner next week, Ms. Fitch.”
“Next week?” I asked, glancing up at him through my lashes. “Why wait?”
Adam pulled me to him. “Well, I’d say ‘as soon as possible,’ believe me.” He brushed a stray wisp of hair from my cheek, carefully tucking it behind my ear. “But unfortunately, I have to fly out on business tomorrow, and I won’t be back until Wednesday.” Adam’s fingertips left a heated path as he traced my earlobe. “Let me take you to dinner when I return. We can fly down to Boston.”
Adam’s long fingers continued a lazy path to the back of my neck, where they lingered. He traced little circles, leaving my mind as foggy as the air outside. “Will you say yes, Maddy?” His voice dropped to a seductive whisper. “Say yes,” he coaxed.
“Boston,” I mused dreamily as I tilted my face to his. I closed my eyes as Adam leaned down. His lips so, so close. “Yes, yes,” I whispered in response.
Adam’s mouth brushed over mine. There and gone, soft as a feather. His hands trailed down my back, as my own lingered at the nape of his neck. I pressed myself shamelessly to him, and his breathing quickened in response. He ghosted his lips over mine