by Amy Summers
As his mouth covered hers, she leaned toward him, stretching up to accept him. She was soft and smooth as butter, warm as a hot bath on a frosty day, and he plunged deeper and deeper, as though he were searching for something elusive that he might never find.
He wanted to be rough with her, just a little coarse, show her that he wasn't genteel. But that was impossible. She was such a lady, he had to treat her like one. There was just no other way.
That didn't mean she was demure. There was nothing shy or reserved about the way she kissed him back, the way she pressed her breasts against him, the way her hands slid across his chest. Her touch, her scent, the taste of her, all combined to send his senses reeling.
She murmured something, but he couldn't hear her. There was a roaring in his ears. He could drown in her, set himself adrift and never come back. His hands moved on her, exploring for shape and heat rather than specifics. She was so smooth, so soft...
He was probing deeper, her body was so close to his, her hands seeming to pull him tighter, and he was reeling, floating, losing touch with planet Earth.
"David."
Suddenly he realized she'd spoken. She was struggling to free herself, and he pulled back, looking at her groggily, drunk from her seductive charms.
"David, the kids. Don't you hear them?"
No. His senses weren't set on the kid frequency like hers were. But now that she mentioned it, he could hear Chris calling for his mother.
He frowned, trying to catch his breath. He'd been in another world. He hadn't been able to know, see, feel, touch anything but her. He'd been on the edge, about to lose control. Even now he had to force himself to release her.
"David, 1 have to go to them."
She disentangled herself from his arms, slipped off the stool and hurried up the stairs.
He leaned back against the counter and stared into the void he'd almost fallen into. He felt disoriented, out of touch with reality. What was he, just one giant male hormone? He had to get hold of himself.
He swallowed hard, hating himself. He'd almost done the very thing he feared the most. He'd just about made a complete fool of himself.
What was the matter with him, anyway? How could he be so stupid? He never did things like this. He never lost control. Madison had him tied up in knots, and he didn't know how to loosen the bonds.
Chapter 6
His body was ramrod hard and he had to force himself to breathe evenly to relax. A cold shower seemed like a valuable option. And maybe hara-kiri as well, while he was at it. Why not? He had no self-respect left. Wouldn't that be the honorable way out?
He groaned, closing his eyes. He'd never wanted a woman the way he wanted Madison. And he wasn't sure he could hold out much longer, telling himself it was the only sane and safe course to follow. After all, he was only human.
"Make that subhuman," he muttered, going into the kitchen and getting a tall glass of cold water. Instead of drinking it, he threw it on his face.
Someone was clopping down the stairs and he turned, wiping off the water with a towel. It was only Jill. She grinned and waved at him.
"Hi," she sang out. "Mama's calling Grandpa. Can we come down and stay with you?"
Kids. Their arrival extinguished the flame as well as any shower could. He drew in a ragged breath and managed to grin at the happy little darling.
"Sure. Listen, you and Chris can help me make lemonade. Want to?"
"From real lemons?" Her head cocked to the side with interest.
"The real thing."
She nodded. "What do I do first?"
Chris joined them and David had the two of them using the juicer on the fresh lemons Rosa had brought that morning. Before long, Madison came down to join them. David couldn't look her in the eye, so he made a lot of jokes and had the children rolling with laughter.
Finally the juice was made with almost as much liquid getting into the pitcher as ended up all over the floor and the two kids. They each had a drink and Madison sent them upstairs to clean themselves up.
"Messy little game," she noted, watching them go. "You've got a lot to learn about doing things with children." But she smiled at him.
He shrugged, picking up a cloth and wiping down the counters. "I figure it's worth it if they learned something."
She nodded. "You know, you're probably right." She grabbed a cloth and joined him.
He moved farther down the counter so she wouldn't touch him. A man could take only so much.
"So, is your father riding to the rescue?" he asked. A pain like a knife thrust slashed through his chest at the thought of her leaving and yet at the same time, he knew very well it was for the best.
She turned and looked at him, shaking her head, her eyes clouded. "Nope. I was just trying to think of a way to tell you. It looks like we're going to have to beg room and board from you for a few more days. My parents, it seems, have gone to Paris for a week of fashion shopping. Russ is out of town on business. And my father's lawyer is on a fishing trip and won't be back until Monday. As this is Thursday..."
"You'll be here for another three days."
She nodded. "I'm sorry, David. I really am. But I don't know what else we can do."
He wouldn't look at her. He kept on wiping down the counter, his face turned away, and she had no idea what he was thinking.
"David, if this is going to be an inconvenience, maybe you know someone else we could stay with."
He turned toward her, his face unreadable. "I can give you the money," he said shortly. "I didn't bring a lot down here with me, but I'm sure I can scrape together enough for airfare.''
"Oh, no." She shook her head emphatically, her hair flying around her face. "No, I will not take your grandparents' money."
He stared at her. "You could always pay it back later," he said quietly.
"No. Definitely not." She looked at him uncertainly. If she were honest, she would have to say she wasn't as disappointed in having to stay as she might have been a few hours ago. The more she got to know David, the more she liked him and the more she enjoyed being with him. Something special seemed to be flowering between them, something exciting, and she didn't want to see it snuffed out before it had a chance to grow.
What she didn't like was staying so close to Armand's influence. That frightened her. But he'd already had his flunky come by and didn't find her—and David made her feel safe. And the kiss they'd shared had given promise of an intimacy that might develop if she gave it half a chance.
Usually that would make her run in the opposite direction. But there was something in David's kiss that made her want to stay and explore the possibilities. The trouble was she was getting very bad vibes at the moment. Anyone watching David might almost think he could hardly wait to get rid of her.
He didn't do anything to dispel that feeling. Turning away, he went back to cleaning without another word on the subject.
And the truth was he didn't know what to say. His emotions were in such a tangle he wasn't sure what he wanted.
Her. He wanted her. That much was obvious. His body was tortured with yearning, and his soul had developed a hunger he wasn't sure any woman could satisfy.
But why was it so different with Madison? He'd been crazy about other women. He'd had crushes, had infatuations. He'd lusted and loved, in a fashion. This was so different. It cut deeper, seemed more intense, more dangerous.
Maybe it really wasn't her. Maybe it was what she represented—the wealth and ancestors, the mansions and debutante teas, the European schools and important connections. After all, didn't she stand for everything that he could only admire from afar, everything that he could never reach and hold in his hand because of who he was, the way he'd been brought up, where he came from? Madison was exotic. She was fantasy. And he was afraid to fall in love with her.
Of course, he wasn't really in love. He was obsessed, that was all. Obsessed and demented. He would never fall in love with the woman. That would be even more insane. He had to draw the
line somewhere.
Falling in love with her would be like falling in love with an angel. You couldn't touch an angel. You couldn't hold her. You couldn't make love to her. You could only dream and stare at an angel from the ground. You couldn't fly yourself, just because you loved her.
And that was what he would be doing if he continued with this stupid obsession.
The kids came down and began to help David make dinner, Jill sweeping the floor, Chris folding napkins and Madison learning to cook. Her mishaps brought on laughter, and before he knew it, David was joking with her again, as though they were old friends instead of uneasy almost-lovers.
He taught Madison how to make red rice and then a cream chili sauce that would go with his fish steaks that evening. She stirred the sauce until it looked like liquid silk and then she showed it off.
"I'm getting so good at this cooking stuff, I just may have to try doing some of it when I get home," she said as everyone praised it. "Next, baked Alaska."
"How about enchiladas rancheras for a warmup?" David suggested. "I need a pan of them." He gestured toward the counter. "There are the tortillas. And there's the cooked chicken."
She only hesitated a moment before tackling the job. Jill helped for a while, then retreated to a table with her notebook. Chris played with little boxes he was pretending were cars on the dining room floor, while David made the sauce and kept a watchful eye on Madison.
"This is really fun," she announced when she produced a pan of fairly decent-looking enchiladas. "I just may have a knack for being a happy homemaker after all."
"Maybe you should get married again," David said without thinking, and then regretted it immediately.
She looked at him. "Oh?" She raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn't seem to take offense. "What makes you say a thing like that?"
He looked at her steadily. "Well, I hear there are plenty of men chasing after you in San Diego."
Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. "Where did you hear a thing like that?"
The tiniest twinkle appeared in his dark eyes. He shrugged casually. "Jill and I were discussing it."
She sank onto a stool at the counter. She liked it when he wasn't trying to be off-putting. "Oh you were, were you?" She threw her daughter a look of mock ferocity that made Jill giggle.
"Yeah, we were." He gave Jill a wink, wiping his hands on a dish towel. "From what I heard, it sounded like this Kyle Tanner guy—the race car driver—has the inside track." He looked at her, watching her eyes, wondering how she was going to react. "Unless there's somebody else Jill doesn't know about."
Madison sputtered, looking from David to her daughter and back again, at a loss for words. "What?" she managed to utter at last. But she was enjoying the teasing. Anything to keep David smiling.
He went on blithely. "Of course, we mustn't forget Cubby, the kids' favorite," he noted, still watching her, hoping for clues. She really wasn't giving anything away.
"Cubby!" Madison shook her head, trying not to laugh.
Chris sat up, clapped his hands together and started a chant. "We want Cubby. We want Cubby."
Jill joined in with less enthusiasm, just to make people laugh.
Madison turned and gave David a significant look. "They want Cubby," she noted wryly.
He nodded. "Yes, I got that impression before." He moved closer, looking down at her. "The question is—do you want Cubby?"
She looked at him challengingly, her eyes a silver screen. "The answer is—none of your business."
He grinned, brushing her hair back off her cheek with a negligent touch that came so naturally, he didn't let himself think twice about it. "Well, that Jim fellow sounded like sort of a jerk. I think you should forget about him."
She liked his touch. She liked the way he'd brushed aside her hair, as though they'd moved to a new state of familiarity. But she wasn't so sure about the advice.
Her eyes flashed. "Jim is a very decent man. He does very well financially, and he has a great sense of humor.''
David laughed. "A great sense of humor. Wow, snap him up."
She pretended defiance. "Maybe I will," she said.
Jill and Chris both groaned.
"See, they don't want him," David commented with a grin. "He thinks be can buy you with presents."
She stared back at him. "How do you know I'm not for sale?" she said softly.
He stared back at her. "Some things are just too precious to barter with," he said back, so softly only she could hear him.
Their gazes clung and she was short of breath. When she finally pulled away, it was his mouth she couldn't stop looking at.
"Anyway," Jill was saying in the background, "I don't like him."
She blinked, trying to remember who Jill was talking about, then turned and looked at her daughter, steadying herself. "Why don't you like Jim?"
Jill shrugged and squinted at her mother. "Because he always wants us to go stay overnight somewhere else so he could be alone with you," she told her.
"Oh." Madison blanched and sighed. "You told David about that?"
Jill nodded. "I showed him my notebook."
Madison shuddered. "That damn notebook," she muttered, giving David a look.
"You know about her lists?" he asked, laughter shining in his eyes.
Madison nodded. "She's a very organized girl. I just wish she wouldn't try to organize my life."
He leaned on the counter, close enough to smell the scent of her hair. He was enjoying this. He could get close and almost touch her, and yet know he wasn't in danger of doing anything he was going to regret. He couldn't go any further, with the children in the room.
"1 guess you were never the type to make lists in notebooks," he said to her.
She laughed, half-turning to look into his face. "No, not me. I've always been more the 'let's just ride this wave and see what happens' type." She smiled into his eyes, and for a moment he had the uneasy feeling she was trying to tell him something. "I never kept a notebook in my life."
David crossed his arms over his chest and smiled, but his head went back as though he were trying to distance himself a little from whatever she might mean. "Well, that is some interesting notebook Jill keeps," he went on. "It makes it pretty clear old Tanner's at the head of the pack." His eyes sharpened as he watched for her reaction. "After all, you went to France with him."
She turned slowly until she was facing him directly and stared at him. "I went to France with him?" She blinked and laughed aloud. "Yes, I guess I did do that. My, how scandalous of me."
Damn. He'd hoped she would deny it. Or give some platonic explanation. Despite everything he suddenly felt grumpy again. "So I guess he's it, huh? Unless... unless there's somebody else."
She held his gaze with her silver-blue eyes. "There just might be."
He swallowed hard, not sure he wanted to go on with this. "Who?"
The tiniest of smiles curled the very edges of her mouth. "I'm not going to tell you."
She was teasing him. Her eyes were flirting. Did she really want him to think that he was the one she was talking about? No, he must have it wrong. She was just having a little fun at his expense. But then, why was she still holding his gaze, her eyes like crystal caverns, deep and limitless, mysterious and enticing? He wanted to reach out and hold her, take her in his arms, stroke her hair.
"I'm making a new page," Jill announced, breaking the spell between them.
They both sat up a little straighter and blinked, then looked toward the girl.
"Who.., who is it for?" Madison asked shakily.
"David," Jill said matter-of-factly.
They both turned fully and stared at her.
"David?" Madison repeated, her voice slightly hoarse.
Jill nodded like an efficient researcher in mid-search. "I already wrote that he is very handsome. What else shall I put?"
Madison and David looked at each other, and the teasing light was back in her eyes. "I know something," she said, her voice
full of laughter. "Why don't you put down this..." She paused, playing on the suspense of the moment. "Here it is—he's a real good kisser."
"Mama!" Jill blurted out in shock.
"Madison!" David did the same.
But Jill recovered quickly. "Mama, how do you know?"
Madison looked wide-eyed and innocent as she answered her daughter. "He told me so himself." Then she grinned. "And I believe him."
He was blushing again. Wasn't this the third time in the last twenty-four hours? And probably the third time in his life. Being with Madison had activated flushing capabilities he hadn't known he had. "I never said that," he claimed weakly.
Jill giggled, ducked her head, and began to write it down.
Laughing softly, Madison watched with delight as he reddened again. Then he reached out quietly and grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers with hers, and leaned close to her ear, drawing in her scent, losing himself in the silver mist of her hair.
"Just wait until later," he whispered. "You're going to have to pay for that little jab."
"Why?" she whispered back, her breath soft and warm on his cheek. "You going to try to prove me wrong?"
He opened his mouth, but there was really nothing he could say to that, and they both laughed, holding hands tightly. He drew back a little, but he couldn't stop gazing into her eyes, as if the rest of the world would fade away if he just stared long enough. She looked back, her eyes full of laughter, but with something else lurking at the edges, something more serious that seemed to be asking a question.
What was the question? He wasn't sure, and it nagged at him for the rest of the afternoon. He went out to get supplies and saw some friends, but he hardly gave them more than a nod and a wave. He had other things on his mind.
Madison, to be specific. She was on his mind and in his soul and definitely the main concern of his raging libido. He was getting too friendly with her. That was dangerous. He had to cut it out.
"Tell you what," he told her when he got back, as he unloaded the groceries. "I don't think you should get married at all."
