IT WAS Tyler Kincaidâs birthday, and he had the feeling his present was waiting in his bed.
Atlanta sweltered under the oppressive heat of the July evening, but he didnât mind. Heâd lived in the South all his life and he liked the warm days and hot, sultry nights. He had nothing against finding a woman in his bed, either, especially a beautiful blonde like Adrianna. Under normal circumstances, a man would have to be crazy to object to that.
Tyler frowned as he slowed his Porsche outside the wrought-iron gates that guarded his hilltop estate.
But these werenât normal circumstances.
If he was right and Adrianna was waiting for him complete with champagne, caviar and flowers, sheâd entered his home uninvited. Thereâd been times heâd asked his mistress to spend the night, but heâd never given her or any woman access to his lifeâor to the security codes that unlocked the gates and the massive front door to his home.
And he damned well hadnât made any plans to celebrate his birthday.
July 18 was just another day in the year, as far as he was concerned. He never so much as circled the day on his calendar. If there was anything special about the date it was because heâd realized, just this morning, that it was time to tell Adrianna their relationship was over.
The gates swung shut behind him. Ahead, a narrow road lined with magnolia trees led toward the big white house heâd bought on the same day heâd taken his companyâs stock public eight years ago. By dayâs end, Tyler had gone from being poor white trash to being a millionaire several times over. âAn outstanding citizen,â the Atlanta Journal had called him. Tyler had saved the article, kept it in a scrapbook right next to the clipping dated ten years before that, when the same newspaper had said he was âan example of Atlantaâs lost youth.â
There was a nice irony there but that wasnât why heâd kept both articles. Heâd kept them, rather, as a reminder of how a manâs life could change with a couple of orbits of the planet around the sun.
âYouâre a true cynic, Tyler,â his attorney had once said with a sigh of mild despair, but Tyler figured there wasnât anything wrong with acknowledging that nothing in this world was ever quite what it seemed.
Especially a relationship with a woman.
He sighed, shut off the engine and looked at the house. It seemed deserted, except for the lights shining at some of the windows, but he knew those came on automatically, at dusk. They were part of his security system. His impenetrable security system, according to the outfit that had installed it.
âImpenetrable, my butt,â Tyler muttered.
To thieves, maybe, but not to the machinations of a determined, blue-eyed blonde.
There was no sign of her, no little green Mercedes convertible parked in the driveway. Heâd expected that. Adrianna was bright as well as beautiful. His women always scored high, on brains as well as looks. Sheâd have found a place to tuck the car away where he wouldnât see it.
How else could she hope to surprise him?
Tylerâs jaw tightened. He sat back in the leather bucket seat and spread his hands along the steering wheel.
The thing of it was, he didnât like surprises, certainly not ones that involved his birthday, and definitely not when the surprise suggested a woman, even a beautiful, eminently desirable woman, was getting ideas about changing the status quo.
Heâd made himself clear, at the start of their affair. People change, heâd told her. Their goals change, their needs change. Adrianna had smiled, interrupted, and said she understood.