by EMILIE ROSE
Returning to the present, Adam double-checked the desk, shelves and frames on the wall. The light coating of dust told him Madison hadn’t been using this office.
Footsteps approached from the rear. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home and help you get her into the house? Dr. Drake’s son will be here soon. He can follow us and pick me up.”
“No, dear. I may be old, but I can manage.”
Adam stayed in the shadows and assured himself he wasn’t spying. He was simply allowing the woman her grief without the embarrassment of a stranger witnessing it. When they passed, Madison had a cat carrier in one hand and bags of food and cat litter in the other. The woman carried an empty litter tray.
“You’ll be sure to tell the crematorium about my wishes for Peaches?”
“They’re closed now, but I’ll personally take care of the arrangements in the morning, and I’ll get her ready for them before I leave tonight.”
He remained in Andrew’s office until he heard the front door close, and then he waited for Madison in the reception area. She’d know he was here as soon as she spotted his car. Moments later the door opened again and Madison entered.
“How long have you been here?” Her cool composure contradicted the emotional display he’d witnessed and the redness of her eyes.
“Not long.”
“Thank you for not interrupting.”
“Who was that?”
“One of your father’s patients. I need a few minutes to finish up, but if you want to load up the box of files for Danny, they’re in a crate behind the reception counter. I have one more to add to it, but I’ll bring it when I come out.”
No complaints about his tardiness? “We’re already late for dinner.”
“Send your mother my apologies, but this can’t wait.” She briskly walked to the back of the building.
Adam texted his mom about the delay, carried the files to the car and returned to cool his heels in the waiting room. Ten minutes passed and Madison hadn’t returned. They needed to get on the road.
He went looking for her and found her in the back, placing a towel-wrapped object in a box. Then she set the box in the large refrigeration unit and peeled off her gloves. He opened his mouth to tell her to hurry up, but a quiet whimper stopped him.
She crossed to the sink, washed her hands then bent and splashed her face. She stayed hunched over, gripping the sides of the washbasin. Her shuddery breathing and her white knuckles on the tub were unmistakably those of someone fighting for control.
Madison crying? It didn’t mesh with the image he’d held in his head for the past six years. Every cell in him screamed run.
He gave her a full minute to pull herself together. She didn’t. “Madison.”
She started, but didn’t turn. “Five more minutes.”
Her tear-choked tone tightened like an invisible noose around his throat.
Go. But he couldn’t. Damn it.
“Are you all right?” he forced out.
“Yes. Just finishing up.”
A lie. He knew it as well as he knew his own name.
He was a fixer, a problem solver, a dispute settler. He could juggle a thousand details and get down to the heart of the matter. And these details didn’t add up. He didn’t want to do it, but he closed the distance and cupped her shoulder. “Madison—”
She gasped, then tried to shrug off his hand, but he held on. “Please, Adam...just go. I’m almost d-done.”
He wished he could do as she asked. Pushing gently, he forced her to turn, noting the strength of the muscles beneath his palm when she resisted. She wasn’t a pretty crier. Her face was blotchy and her eyes and nose were as red as a drunk’s on a two-day bender. But her grief came through loud and clear. And genuine.
She mashed her lips together in an effort to control the tremor of her mouth and tilted her head back to contain the tears pooling in her eyes. Her struggle unsettled him in a way bawling never could.
“Why are you crying over a stranger’s dog?”
“Peaches was the only family she ha-had.” A tear escaped and rolled down. Madison dashed it away as if trying to hide evidence, but another drop immediately leaked from the opposite eye.
He’d never seen this vulnerable side of her. He lifted his hand and stroked a thumb across her damp cheek. Her skin was soft and warm. Her lips parted and her breath caught. An odd current raced through him, making him hyperaware of each spiky, wet lash, each shuddery inhalation and the slight tremor of her frame as she fought to contain her emotions.
She hit him with a beseeching look. Asking him to leave? Asking him to help? He didn’t know. Then as if someone had flipped a switch, the mood changed from one of comfort to something else. Her eyes went from wounded to wary to wanting. Reciprocal desire coiled hot and sinuous in his gut. He tried to put a lid on it, but it wouldn’t be contained.
Cupping her face with both hands, he skimmed over the wet trails. A droplet clung to her lower lashes. His gaze fixed on it and he couldn’t look away.
“Adam.” Her near whisper carried a note of caution.
He heard it, but failed to heed it. Her scent rose up to meet him, undermining his rationality even more. Against his will he lowered his head. A fraction of an inch from her face he applied the mental brakes and ordered himself to back away, but then her warm, stuttered exhalation buffeted his chin, and his willpower dissolved. He sipped up that lone tear. Saltiness hit his tongue and hunger blindsided him. Even though he knew he shouldn’t, he covered her mouth with his.
Her body went rigid and her hands splayed on his waist. Her mmmph of protest filled his lungs. But instead of pushing him away, after one shocked moment her fingers fisted in his shirt, holding him close. Her soft lips parted and he had to taste her. She met his tongue with hers, stroking a slick stream of fire that incited him to pull her closer.
He skimmed his palms down her arms and around her back, pulling her slender form against his. Big mistake. He knew it the second her curves conformed to him. But he couldn’t stop himself from kneading her flesh and deepening the kiss. His heart slammed against his rib cage. His body burned. He cradled her waist, caressed her back. It wasn’t enough. Desire unlike any he’d ever experienced consumed him. He wound her ponytail around his hand and tugged gently, angling her head for better access.
Then suddenly she yanked free, pressing her fingers over her mouth and backing, wide-eyed, away from him. “What are you doing?”
Damned if he knew.
“Adam, you can’t— I— We—” She hugged her middle. “No. That shouldn’t have happened. It can’t happen again.”
Shocked and disgusted by his loss of control and his hunger for his brother’s wife, Adam rummaged the wasteland of his brain for words. Remorse and shame pelted him like hail. What had he been thinking?
He’d cheated on Andrew.
“It won’t. I won’t be a stand-in for my brother.”
She flinched. “I didn’t ask you to.”
No. And he wasn’t proud that he had reached for her, kissed her. But she had kissed him back.
Two wrongs, and yet holding her had felt so right. But it wasn’t. “Dinner’s waiting.”
“Can we skip it? I just want to go home. You can take the files to Danny tomorrow.”
An odd feeling coiled in his gut. He wasn’t disappointed that the selfishness he’d expected had returned—it helped quench his lingering desire.
“This isn’t about you. You promised my father files. You’ll deliver them.”
For several seconds she stared at him as if debating arguing, then without a word, she swept past him.
But it was too late to put distance between them. He’d crossed a line he never should have broached. He had never stolen anything from Andrew before. God help him, he di
dn’t know how he was going to forget that he’d betrayed his brother tonight.
Worse, he wasn’t going to be able to forget how Madison had felt in his arms. How she tasted.
But it wasn’t a mistake he’d repeat.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MADISON’S HANDS AND insides quivered like gelatin, but she did everything in her power to mask her anxiety from the others in the room.
Adam didn’t kiss like Andrew.
Don’t think about it.
“You sent Mrs. Woods home with a stray cat?” Danny’s question snatched her back from her wayward thoughts.
“Yes.” She tried to ignore the man seated beside her at the motor home’s compact kitchen table.
Helen had positioned them so that they both faced Danny’s recliner. Madison was hemmed between Adam and the wall, and every time he moved she caught a glimpse in her peripheral vision of the hands that had held and caressed her. Occasionally his elbow bumped hers, catapulting her pulse rate into triple digits. If that weren’t distraction enough, she’d swear Adam’s aftershave clung to her upper lip, and she smelled him every time she inhaled.
He didn’t kiss like his brother. The thought bounced around inside her skull again like a ball in a pinball machine rebounding off the paddles.
How had she let the kiss happen? She’d seen it coming and done nothing to avoid it. Her only guess was that the combination of being bombarded by memories of Andrew and Daniel, then Mrs. Woods losing her pet and telling the story of her daughter, had pushed Madison back into that deep, dark well of agony after she’d lost her husband and baby. When she’d realized she could depend on no one but herself. But unlike Mrs. Woods, Madison had nothing to remember her baby by except a few sketchy ultrasound pictures.
She’d been weak in the office’s back room. Needy. Desperate for someone to hold. And Adam had been there. But that was a poor excuse.
“Why the cats?” Danny asked.
Adam tossed his napkin on the table and turned his head to scowl at her. “The cat will probably outlive her, and then what will you do?”
Her pulse hiccupped at his aggression. How could he look at her as if he hated her when an hour ago he’d been kissing her into oblivion? She blinked, then concentrated on Danny—the less threatening companion.
“Mrs. Woods needed company tonight and a distraction when she went back into her house and saw all of Peaches’s things. She has no family. The cat is a low-maintenance companion. She can keep it or return it. But I wanted her to have something to focus on to help her get beyond her initial grief.”
“I know about transference, Madison. I wasn’t aware you did. I never taught you.”
“It’s something I picked up.”
Understatement of the year, as her menagerie of strays illustrated. She collected the unwanted, the unloved.
“I’d like to see how much more you’ve learned on your own.”
She could still feel Adam’s scrutiny. He’d watched her on and off throughout the meal, and each time those blue-green eyes had connected with hers a bolus of adrenaline had jetted through her veins. She laced her fingers in her lap, giving up any pretense of eating.
Why him? It wasn’t fair that her body awoke for the one man she dare not have.
She dreaded being cooped up with Adam on the flight back home. She’d been fortunate that a cell phone call—business from the sounds of it—had captured his attention before they’d left the office parking lot. The call hadn’t ended until they turned into the driveway.
“I’m glad you were there for her, Maddie, and proud that you were willing to stay after-hours.”
Focus on the things within your control. “Pet emergencies don’t limit themselves to office hours.”
Danny nodded. “Not everyone understands that.”
She caught sight of Helen going rigid in her peripheral vision and assumed that was a dig Helen had heard before.
“Peaches has been on the decline for almost a year. I warned Mrs. Woods repeatedly about what was ahead of her, but she wasn’t ready to hear it. I’m not sure what she would’ve done if you’d refused to see her. For what it’s worth, I would never have thought of sending the cats with her, but then you were always more empathetic and intuitive than Andrew and I put together. That’s why you would have been such an asset to the practice.”
The compliment flushed Madison with pleasure until she saw Helen’s scowl deepen and the disbelief on Adam’s face. “I’ll call the crematorium first thing tomorrow and relay her wishes.”
“The girls at the office will handle it.”
“No. I promised Mrs. Woods I’d do it. But I’ll need someone on your staff to meet the crematorium guys for the pickup. Peaches is ready for them. And since the grooming and kennel operations are operating while you’re out, someone should be there. I’ll just need you to follow up. The staff would like to hear from you anyway.”
“Consider it done.”
“Thank you.” Madison checked her watch. “If you don’t mind, I’d really like to go home.”
“I wish you would stay, Maddie.”
She knew he did. Discomfort pricked her like a bed of cactus needles. Danny had so much to worry about and nothing to distract him except her. He’d grilled her about today’s cases over dinner, and even though he drooped with fatigue, he hungered for more.
“I have my own patients tomorrow, Danny.”
“Adam could always fly you back early in the morning. You could get a good night’s sleep and—”
Adam rose. “Dad, I have to work tomorrow. Madison’s right. We need to go. There’s a storm front approaching, and I need to get ahead of it.”
At least Adam agreed that her staying overnight was a bad idea. She shot him a grateful glance. His gaze met hers, jolting her with an electric charge, and she couldn’t look away. She saw latent anger melding with desire in his blue eyes. There was no way tonight’s mishap could yield anything but trouble. She knew it and so did he. The knowledge sat like a hot brick in her belly.
It shamed her to admit Adam’s kiss had thrilled her in ways Andrew’s never had. She’d tingled from head to toe as if someone had given her an IV of champagne. That alien feeling had scared her into breaking the embrace. If it hadn’t...
She sprung to her feet and gathered her dishes. Dear heaven, she didn’t even want to contemplate what would have happened if she hadn’t had that flash of sanity. Neglected hormones had poisoned her brain, and she clearly wasn’t in control of her senses.
She needed distance and a week to regroup, to bolster her defenses and to remember that the Drakes had betrayed her before.
She carried her plate to the sink. Helen took the dish from her, frowning at the barely touched meal. “You used to love my Cajun-chicken pasta.”
The creamy sauce blended with broccoli, asparagus and red peppers probably tasted as good as it looked—if one’s taste buds hadn’t been hijacked by an ill-conceived kiss. Although she’d forced down part of the meal, she hadn’t tasted a bite. “I apologize for my lack of appetite. It’s been a long day.”
“Danny hardly gave you a minute to eat with all his questions.” After a stabbing glance at her husband, Helen scraped the remainder into the trash.
“I don’t mind.” Madison didn’t have the energy to keep being nice in the face of so much hostility. She headed for the door. “I’ll wait outside.”
She made it to the driveway. The car was locked. She couldn’t hide herself away in the darkened compartment. She studied the scattered clouds racing across the sky. The dense, warm, humid night air enveloped her. It was almost ten. It would be midnight by the time they landed and two o’clock before Adam returned to Norcross. If they didn’t beat the approaching storm, courtesy demanded she offer him a place to stay and let him fly back early in the morning. She
prayed it wouldn’t come to that.
The motor home door opened and closed. Madison’s muscles seized up. She wasn’t ready to face Adam or the chaos he’d created inside her. Not yet. Maybe she never would be.
Why him? Was her body trying to replace what she’d lost? Was it looking for another peg of the exact size and shape as the hole Andrew’s death had left behind? It seemed most likely that the chemical attraction had nothing to do with the man and everything to do with someone familiar.
“Thank you,” Helen spoke behind her.
Surprised, Madison spun around, and for the first time she didn’t see loathing in Helen’s eyes. Hope swelled in her chest—hope she tried to squash, because she couldn’t afford to get attached to this family again. “For what?”
“For coming even though you’ve already had a long day, and for being patient with Danny’s endless questions. He enjoys your visits. He was on pins and needles when Adam texted to say you might not make it. Your late arrival kept him from falling asleep after dinner, and he was more animated tonight than he’s been since this started.”
Sympathy wound through Madison like a rampant kudzu vine, mingling with shame, because if she’d had her way she would have skipped dinner and been home by now.
“Your Mrs. Woods wasn’t the only one who needed a distraction tonight. We met with the doctors today to discuss beginning chemotherapy next week. Danny’s worried, even if he won’t admit it.”
And so was Helen, if the strain around her eyes was an indicator. “He’ll get through this, Helen. You both will.”
“Yes, well...” Helen scanned the leaves blowing across the yard. An awkward silence tested the strength of the tentative truce between them before she faced Madison again, her expression inflexible.
“If he’s sick and needs my attention after the infusion, don’t expect me to ignore him and cook for you,” she blurted, then pivoted abruptly and returned to the RV, leaving Madison rattled. She should have known the break in hostilities wouldn’t last.
The door opened before Helen reached it. Adam held it for his mother, then descended the stairs. Madison’s nerves snarled into one big knot in her belly. He carried his suit coat draped over his forearm. Moonlight peaked intermittently through the clouds to gleam off his white dress shirt like a lighthouse beacon blinking to mark a hazard.
