by Amy Summers
"You'd better get some rest while you can," he told her softly. "In a few hours, you're going to have to drive so I can sleep."
She nodded and snuggled down into the seat. But her eyes kept drifting open and she kept looking at his profile. She wanted to hold him, to touch him, to bury her face in his chest. The yearning for contact swelled inside her. But it would be pretty silly to grab for him now, wouldn't it? So she forced herself to close her eyes again, and before long she was asleep.
David was tired but too filled with adrenaline to worry about falling asleep. The night was a dark tunnel he was driving through. There was no turning back. He felt like a lost soul running straight into bell.
He'd done exactly what he had sworn he wouldn't do, and now he was caught in the web, just as he'd known he would be. Madison Carrington—the scent of her hair, the softness of her skin, the heat of her body, the curve of her breast in his hand, the passion he'd seen in her face—how was he going to get her out of his blood, now that she was in him? He was going to spend the rest of his life regretting what he'd done.
He glanced at the blond head on the seat beside him and almost laughed aloud at his own melodramatic ramblings. Regret it, hell. He could never regret it. Being close to this woman was probably going to turn out to be the high point of his life.
He sighed and forced himself to relax. He'd told her he would protect her from Armand and get her home as quickly as possible, and that was what he was going to do. He was committed. There was no question about it.
He'd had to close the cafe, of course. He'd explained everything to Rosa, and she would call his grandparents in the morning and explain to them. It was too bad, but he knew they would understand. If they'd been in town when all this had happened, they would have been the first to urge him to take her home.
The game plan was simply a mad rush for the border. He had some connections with federal employees in Mexicali, and he was pretty sure there would be no problem getting her a new tourist card in order to cross over to the U.S. If anyone gave them any flack, there was always the coyotes—he had a cousin who made his living that way.
His mouth twisted in grim irony. That would be something, wouldn't it? Madison Carrington smuggling her way across the border with a bunch of illegals. Russ would have a good laugh.
Either that or kill him for letting his sister go through such an ordeal. It was hard to say which.
He'd hardly given Russ a thought in the past few days. Facing facts, he'd hardly given a thought to anything or anyone but Madison ever since he'd been captivated by her tantalizing voice on the telephone. She'd filled his mind, filled his senses, and he knew she was addictive. He was going to have a hard time letting her go when he finally got her home.
Riding through the dark, he found it tempting to drift into fantasy. If only he could drive off in another direction and take Madison and her two children with him to some other place, some other life, and never have to face reality again.
"David?" came Chris's childish voice from the back seat. "I have to go to the bathroom."
He laughed softly. Even here in the dark, reality was just waiting to slap him back to his senses.
"Okay Chris," he said reassuringly. "We'll find a place."
The sun began to slant through the jungle growth a few hours later. They stopped to eat some breakfast rolls David had brought, letting the children run along the side of a stream. From where they sat, they could see pink flamingos wading in the shallow estuary and the ocean out in the distance.
''I wish we had time to explore the beach towns through here," Madison said, leaning back and enjoying the view. "I've been in Mexico for over a week and yet I've hardly seen a thing."
"You'll see plenty on this trip. We've got a lot of driving ahead of us."
She looked at his serious face. He was making every effort to keep things businesslike today, as though he could somehow erase what had happened the night before. She suppressed a smile, but she couldn't help but tease him a little.
"But it's beaches I really want to see," she complained lightly. "I think I'll always have a special place in my heart for Mexican beaches."
He glanced at her quickly, caught the sparkle in her eyes, and only hesitated a moment before he reached out to pull her close. The children were out of earshot, and he risked a quick kiss on her willing mouth.
"You'd better behave," he told her softly, his eyes burning down into hers. "Or I'm going to have to take control again."
"Oh, is that what you call it?" She laughed up into his face.
He kissed her once more, harder this time, and the hunger rose in his gut like an ocean wave, strong and urgent, almost knocking him off his feet. If it hadn't been for the kids...
No, he told himself firmly as they got back into the car. This had to stop. The control he had to take was over himself.
They stopped for lunch in Mazatlan, and David indulged Madison with a walk on the wide, white beach with the kids scampering around them, testing the water and racing back again. Jill stubbed her toe and ran right to David for comfort, while Madison watched, bemused.
"You're really good with the kids, you know," she told him when Jill had run off again and they resumed their stroll.
He shrugged, shoving his hands down into his back pockets, and wouldn't meet her gaze.
"No, I really mean it. My children don't take to strangers very easily, but they've really taken to you." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "I know you're not going to like this, but I'd say you were a natural-born father."
He seemed to shudder. "Hardly that."
She sighed, holding her hair back with one hand as the sea breezes tugged at it. She'd known a lot of men who seriously avoided commitment, but he took the cake. She wasn't sure if his position was something long and well thought out, or just a knee-jerk reaction. She smiled. Why not put it to the test?
"You're not planning to get married, right?" she murmured idly.
"Right."
She turned to look at him. "Then you won't ever have any kids. You do realize that, don't you?"
No kids? Not ever? That set him back a bit. If anyone had asked him that question just days before, he would have happily answered, "No kids. Not ever." But that was before he knew any. Knowing Jill and Chris had changed his mind over how he felt about the little rascals, and suddenly the thought of never having any of his own was a real issue that he was going to have to come to terms with.
"Just why is it that you've never married?" she asked him abruptly, throwing caution to the wind.
For a moment she thought he was going to get angry, but when he turned and looked at her, his eyes were without emotion. "I'm happy, Madison. I have a good business and well-rounded social life. And I don't see any reason to mess it up by taking chances with fate."
"I took those chances," she began.
"Yeah, and look where it got you."
She shook her head and pointed to the two towheads romping in the sandy water. "It got me Jill and Chris, David. I can never regret that."
He looked at them but he didn't smile. "I wouldn't want to bring children into the world and risk tearing them apart with a divorce," he admitted to her at last.
She nodded. That was exactly what she'd been afraid of. "I can understand feeling that way. But look at my kids, David. They've had tough times, sure, but they survived. They're pretty darn happy, if you ask me. And if you're going to say it would be better if they didn't exist..."
"No, of course not. You know how I feel about those kids."
Well, she didn't know, not really. But she was beginning to hope. She turned to him and smiled up into his face. "You need some kids of your own, David," she said softly. "I think it would do you good, and I bet you'd be happy."
Her smile faded and she studied his profile. "Don't you ever dream, David?" she asked softly.
"Dreams are for losers," he said roughly. "I have goals. I don't need dreams."
Chris called him from the water's edge an
d David's arm slipped away. She watched him go to her son, and she shook her head. She knew he was wrong. Dreams were the heart and soul of life. She only wished she had time to convince him of that.
The landscape changed as they drove on. The jungle gave way to desert and colorful agricultural tracts. There were mountains in the distance to the right and the ocean far to the left.
Jill and Chris were restless. Jill worked on her journal for a while, and Chris played the alphabet game, but neither of them could be satisfied with that forever. "How much farther?" was becoming a recurring refrain.
Madison made them sing songs and then told them a story that put them right to sleep. Settling back down in her seat, she smiled at David and he grinned back.
"You know all the tricks, don't you?" he commented, admiring her more than he could express in words.
"I know a few," she admitted, "I've been doing this for quite a while, you know.''
"And you like it," he observed.
"I do like it. I love being a mother." She stretched and put her head back, eyes half-closed. "But I'm about ready for some changes in my life."
He looked at her, a little startled. As far as he was concerned, she was perfect as she was. "What sort of changes?”
"Mostly small things." She turned and looked at him. "I feel as though a chapter of my life has closed now. Armand is finally gone."
"He's been gone for years, hasn't he?"
"Sure, in body. But it took this last week to really close that door. There ate no lingering doubts about whether I did the right thing, whether I should have tried for a reconciliation for the children's sake, things like that. That is all over. I really feel as though I'm free to go on with my life now."
"Good. Just take it slow."
She sighed. "I don't know if I should take it slow. I fed as though I've been standing still for much too long, missing out, letting things pass me by. I want to ran out and do all the things I've been avoiding for years."
He glanced at her. The sun splashed across her face like liquid gold. He wanted her. Every time he looked at her, he wanted her. He was beginning to feel as though his libido were running his nervous system. "Like what?"
"Like making my own living."
That was a concept he hadn't expected. "What?"
She turned in her seat, getting excited about her topic. "That's the thing that's going to change for sure. Here I've been telling myself I'd become so independent. But you know what? I've been kidding myself. I'm not independent at all. I still live in my parents' house. And to my eternal shame, when Armand crooked his little finger, I went running to him to see if he would like to take over my life for me. Again."
She paused, looking at him. "You know why I did that? Because I didn't trust in myself. I hadn't yet learned how to stand on my own. But I'm going to do that now."
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not sure he was going to like the new, self-reliant Madison. "And just what are you going to do to effect this change?"
"First I'll go ahead with a project I've been thinking about for a while. A friend of mine has a business. She makes these huge floral arrangements for fancy restaurants and big weddings and receptions, things like that. She wants to expand, to add plant maintenance for businesses, but she needs a partner. I've decided that I'd like to go in with her."
Actually, why not? It sounded perfect for her. He could see her going in for consultations with her briefcase in her hand, her hair tied up in a conservative bun, glasses….and even that turned him on. She couldn't do anything or dress in any way that would repulse him. Maybe he was obsessed. Or maybe he was just plain crazy. He shook his bead, trying to get it cleared of all this romantic stuff, but it seemed to be a permanent condition.
"That sounds like a good idea," he said, rather reluctantly at first. Then he grinned, teasing her. "It wouldn't hurt you to find out how regular people live."
She shook her head and said softly, "David, I think I'm probably a lot more 'regular' than you want to believe."
His jaw tightened. That was the whole point here. She wasn't regular. She never could be. And he had to keep reminding himself of that fact before he did something really stupid.
All this talk about changing her life was probably mere musings, anyway. Why should she change? She had it great. She didn't have to do anything but indulge herself. She never had to worry about house payments, or whether or not she would be able to afford to send her kids to college. If they had a problem, she could hire a therapist for their every need. If she didn't like the weather, she could take off for Tahiti at a moment's notice. Who wouldn't want to live that way? And why would anyone give it up voluntarily? No, it didn't make a lot of sense. She was born to privilege, and she wouldn't know what to do without it. That was just the way things were.
"Then I'm going to get my own place," she was saying. "Somewhere in the suburbs, with a yard. And Jill and Chris can go to public school."
Right. Sure. "Just like regular kids," he said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
"Exactly."
He glanced at her and said, a bit caustically, "You won't be a Carrington anymore."
She smiled and threw her arms out. "I'll always be a Carrington. I can't deny that. But I can be... I don't know. More of a real woman."
His eyes smoldered as he looked at her. "You are a real woman," he said firmly. Any more real, and he would be a dead man right now.
She laughed softly, touching his cheek with her hand, brushing back the dark hair that had fallen over his forehead. "To you, maybe I am. Now I just have to convince myself."
He gritted his teeth, not responding. It was insane how much he loved it when she touched him like that, with casual affection. In some ways he would miss that most of all. That, and her voice that still sent chills down his spine. How could he grow so used to her in such a short time? His life was going to seem empty without her. The dread was already starting like an ache in the bottom of his stomach. He wanted to pull over to the side of the road and make wild love to her, just to blot out the threatening pain. But he had to content himself with glancing at her, taking in how lovely her face looked as she gazed out the window, how firmly her breasts stood out against the blue cotton of his sweater that she was wearing, how her long fingers curved gracefully against the black leggings.
He wanted to make her talk again, just so he could listen to her voice. "Tell me a story, Madison," he said quietly, mimicking the kids, and she laughed, not realizing he was speaking in deadly earnest.
The late-afternoon sun was blinding him as it burned through the windshield. But that wasn't the worst of it. The car was losing speed, and the engine was beginning to sputter.
"What's that funny noise?" Madison asked.
"My car is dying." He gave her a weary smile as he pulled over to the side of the empty road. "Stand by for an autopsy report."
She got out with him, leaning in over the engine and watching him poke and prod, until he asked her to get in and try to start the engine for him. Then there was more poking and a few swear words. She had no idea what he was doing, but she had absolute faith in him.
“Well, that's that,'' he said at last, wiping his hands on a rag she handed him.
"That's what?"
"We're stuck. It's the carburetor. It's going to take me at least overnight to fix this thing. We're going to have to find a place to stay."
A place to stay? But that was impossible. They were making a run for home and safety. Pure panic rose in her. Suddenly she was sure Armand was about to come over the crest of the last hill at any moment. "But we have to keep going," she said, grabbing David's sleeve. "We've got to get across that border."
Turning, he touched her face. "Madison, we can't go any farther. This is it. We're stuck until I get this car moving again."
She put one hand to her forehead, her eyes a little wild. Her imagination was sending up images of her children being driven off in the back of a long, black car, waving at her
out the back window. "Can't we call a tow truck or something?"
"Not out here in the middle of nowhere."
He was right, of course. She forced herself to calm down. If Armand were following them, he surely would have caught up to them by now. In the meantime, she had to think of her children. They needed someplace to stay.
David was back under the hood. She put a hand out to shield her eyes from the sun and looked up and down the desolate highway. Suddenly she caught sight of something.
"Look, David," she called, excited. "There, off the main road to the right, down that hill. Isn't that a little motel or something?"
It was, and it was mostly downhill to get there.
"Help me push," David said. "You go to the back of the car, I'll steer and push from the side. We can roll it right into the parking lot."
Pushing a car along the highway was a new experience for Madison, but she didn't do badly, The only problem was, as they neared the ramshackle collection of cabins and cottages, they began to have second thoughts.
"This place reminds me of a certain spooky motel in a certain very scary movie," she called out to David from behind the car as they came toward it.
He paused, panting for a moment, wiping sweat from his brow. "It's not going to be the world-class accommodations you're used to," he told her. "But it'll be okay."
Still, he saw what she meant as he took another look at the place. All it needed was a big house on a hill with a rocking chair in the window....
"Let's just get it up to the entryway. Then I'll go in and see if they have room for us."
Madison made a face, but she didn't show it to him. It was too bad the car was too small to sleep in. Jill was leaning out the window, looking excited.
"Wow," she said. "Looks neat."
Neat was the last thing it looked. Madison bit her lip and forced back the sardonic comments struggling to break free from her sealed lips. She was not going to act like a spoiled rich girl. She could rough it with the best of tbem—or the worst of them, as the case might be. At least she would make every attempt. She refused to let David sneer at her.
