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A Far Cry from Home

Page 9

by Peri Elizabeth Scott


  She parked close to the wall of windows so she could keep an eye on her cat, cracked the windows, and climbed out just as Maddox drew up in his rental car—another Mercedes. They were so different, insofar as personal wealth was concerned… Regan chewed her bottom lip, a sudden uncertainty overtaking her.

  He climbed out and strode over quickly, throwing an arm around her. “C’mon inside, baby. And quit thinking. It’ll be fine.”

  He paid such close attention that she was surprised she’d been able to hide her angst—and her interest—from him before. Though maybe she hadn’t, in retrospect. He held the door open and she moved inside, where they were escorted to a booth overlooking the parking lot.

  Chapter Ten

  He was afraid to blink, in case she vanished. The feel and taste of her still lingered and he regretted not staying a while longer in that hotel room. With their orders taken, his coffee poured and her tea steeping, he launched into an additional explanation.

  “I knew how attached you were to The Inn,” he said. “It was so painfully obvious. My first inclination was to simply sign it over to you, but I was too selfish.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “If I’d done that, how could I justify staying? How could I let you know I had designs on you? That I wanted to explore the instant attraction?”

  “Oh. Oh.” She stared at him, blue eyes wide, faint stubble burns on her throat. “So, you loaned me money to fix it up, giving you an excuse to stay around?”

  “I have people I trust to run my business, baby, but not for months. Not even weeks. I’ve done some pretty fast talking. Called in a lot of favors.”

  “I had no idea. But did you think I could make a go of it?”

  A rueful smile curved his lips. “I was more worried you’d kill yourself with work. I’ve never seen anyone work so hard and be so versatile. You’re amazing, Regan. My admiration for you knows no bounds. But no, I couldn’t see you making a go of it.”

  “The odds were stacked against me,” she admitted. “But I couldn’t see anything else.”

  “It was a bugger, knowing you held The Inn close to your heart and maybe had no room for me, once I figured out what I felt went past simple attraction. But at the same time, I couldn’t ask you to sell. Not without making every effort to help you. Within reason,” he added. “There was no way I could stand the idea of you living in a place that wasn’t safe. I just didn’t expect that you’d do all the work.”

  “I’ve never been afraid of hard work.”

  “Good thing. Because I’m a work in progress according to my mother.”

  She smiled widely. “I’m sure she thinks you’re perfect.”

  “Wait until you meet her. And Naomi.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “I should have invited you earlier but I doubted you’d take time away. Was I right to think that you had to prove it to yourself?” Strain and worry tugged at him.

  She let him take her hand, their beverages cooling in front of them. “You seem to know me better than I know myself. I was consumed, obsessed, I guess you’d call it. I was determined to make The Inn viable again.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief. “It drove me crazy, watching you work so hard. Turned me on too.”

  “Yet, you kept your distance.”

  “As best as I could. I took innumerable cold showers. Tormented myself hanging around you, hiding how I felt.”

  “You were underfoot a lot.”

  “I was determined not to influence your decision. I didn’t want you to have any regrets. The businessman in me couldn’t see throwing away money, but I’d have burned it in the fireplace to keep you warm if necessary. It was a fine balance. And I couldn’t stay away. I tried to distance myself, to give you the time you needed. When I took an overnight trip to Boston the first time, I missed you so badly I made myself ignore you when I returned. It was that or jump you and show you how much I was interested.”

  A tremor shook her voice when she asked, “But why did you solicit offers on The Inn?”

  He levered out of the booth and rushed around to push in beside her, putting his arm around her shoulders. “I wanted you to have a safety net. I wanted to tell you, time and again, but it never seemed that you were ready. I didn’t know if you’d ever be ready to sell.” He felt his face tighten as he added, “And I worried that you wouldn’t want me the way I wanted you. I couldn’t leave you with nothing.”

  Tears sheened her eyes before she tucked her head against his shoulder. “I think I made it pretty plain last night—and this morning—how much I want you. I … I lusted after you.”

  Drifting his thumb over her knuckles, he kissed her temple, feeling the last of his worries fade away. “I didn’t dare let myself interpret anything, baby. That’d be like waving a red flag in front of a bull. It was hard enough for me not to paw the ground or something equally animalistic.”

  “You didn’t want the money, did you?”

  “Not at all. It wasn’t a business deal from almost the minute I laid eyes on you. You marched into that lawyer’s office, gritting your teeth and fearing the worst. Something about you pulled me in, Regan. I confess I told myself it was purely physical, but obviously, it was more than that, seeing as I barely got to lay a finger on you.”

  “You kissed me.”

  “And I thought I’d blown it, big time, with that move.”

  “That kiss both gave me hope and confused me.”

  “Short rations,” he teased.

  “You must have your pick of women.” A hint of uncertainty colored her tone.

  Hadn’t he convinced her? Tucking a finger beneath her chin, he tilted it, staring into her eyes. “I picked you.”

  Her wide mouth lifted into a smile. “Works for me.”

  “Pancakes with bacon? Crisp? Ham and eggs?” Their server interrupted a definite moment, but Regan’s belly chose to remind them breakfast was her favorite meal of the day and he could admit to being famished.

  They leaned back to let her arrange the plates, and he moved to the other side of the booth.

  “Where were you going?” he asked, lifting his cup.

  She swallowed a forkful of pancake and syrup. “To Montana.”

  “Good grief. I can’t see myself in Montana, but…” He ran a hand through his hair. Maybe there was another option if she didn’t want to go back to Vermont. Or join him in Boston.

  “Funny. I can. Cowboy hat. Boots. And some tight jeans. Maybe a pair of chaps.” She licked the syrup off the tines and obviously hid a smile as his gaze narrowed.

  “Seriously, Regan. Can I convince you to come back? Actually, come to Boston?”

  “I love the big, confident businessman, but I’ll take the disconcerted, uncertain, and absolutely drool-worthy guy,” she teased.

  “Drool-worthy?” He’d be anything for her.

  “Okay, I’ll come with.”

  He blinked and then swallowed. “Just like that?”

  “Just like that. Montana wasn’t my first choice in any event. Given making a choice between you and wherever, I know my preference.”

  And he’d come close to losing this woman. “I should have ravished you much sooner.”

  “Maybe you should have, but I’m not sure I would have come to recognize the futility of revamping The Inn if you had. I’d have lost myself in a daydream of having it all, and when it fell apart it might have spoiled things a little.” Her honesty made him smile and he grabbed her hand again.

  “I know you’re not a Boston kind of girl, but I have a country house. The grounds are in dire need of some tender loving care. Kind of like the owner.”

  “Wellesley.”

  “Excuse me?” He needed to pay better attention, but his mind was skipping ahead.

  “Wellesley has a Master Gardener extension program. I want to get my diploma. Now that I can afford it.” She set down her utensil and picked up her coffee. He wasn’t in any hurry to release her other hand. “Gloria—she’s kind o
f an honorary aunt, a friend of my mother’s—will be disappointed, but I think we could visit her.”

  “I can visit Montana. Especially if someone important to you lives there.” If she wanted Wellesley he’d find a way for her to get in, not that she likely need his help.

  “We’ll get those boots,” she teased.

  Wrapping a small piece of bacon in a napkin, she took it out for Oscar while he dealt with the bill. When he emerged, she was talking to the cat.

  “I worry that I’m going to wake up and my heart will still be broken,” she told the cat who crunched the morsel. “I had no idea this … person lived inside of me!”

  He spoke through the open window, pleased to have overheard her. Thrilled to reassure her. “I knew she existed. And you’re going to wake up beside me each and every morning, baby, face to face with the truth. And I’ll kick my own ass before I hurt you again.”

  Staring into her eyes, he hid nothing from her, wanting her to see him as her future. “Oscar won’t forgive you if you do,” she said. “And you know how he gets.”

  He laughed. “He’ll have an entirely new world to explore and dominate.”

  After following him to the car rental building, she got Oscar settled in the back while he dropped off his Mercedes. He swung into the passenger seat and she waited for him to buckle up. The cat ceased his grumbling and broke into a rusty purr, apparently all right with giving up his favored shotgun position in deference to another male in his and his mistress’s lives.

  “You okay with me driving?” she asked.

  Normally, he’d be far from okay. “I told you. You’re the most competent woman I know.”

  She bit her bottom lip, and this time he soothed it, touching it gently with a finger. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s a tough go, being competent all the time. Looking out for myself.”

  Surging into her space, if hampered by the close quarters and seat belt, he pressed a kiss on her lips. “I’ll be there when you need me, baby. And sometimes when you don’t, but I know you’ll set me straight in those instances.”

  “And I’ll be there for you when you need me.” She blinked and a tear spilled over her lashes. “Always.”

  He thumbed away the trace of moisture from her cheek before kissing her again, tasting her sweetness.

  The future bright, they hit the road back.

  Epilogue

  “Regan?” Maddox’s voice sounded around the side of the house, competing with the somnolent bees and birdsong. Oscar looked up from his sprawl in a particularly sunny spot on the lawn, his tail lashing lazily.

  “I’m here.” She ruefully considered the state of her clothing and peeled off her gloves. Her manicure had survived, a good thing, seeing as she needed to look different than a gardener in a couple of days.

  He sauntered up to her, still wearing his suit. He leaned in to give her a lingering kiss. “The grounds look amazing, baby.”

  She inched backward. “Careful. I’m filthy. That suit will never be the same.”

  “I don’t care.” He scooped her close and kissed her more soundly. She squeaked and then fell into the sensation.

  “The bride shouldn’t have to prepare the venue for her own wedding,” he chided.

  “This bride should. I want to.”

  “You’ll be exhausted on Saturday.” He released her and took her hand, drawing her toward the house. “At least let me bring in some guys to finish the heavy work.”

  “Uh-uh. I’m putting my diploma to good use. And it’s not as if I’m setting up the chairs and the tent. Or doing the catering.”

  Their guests weren’t numerous but included his mother and sister and her family, of course, those women pleased to welcome her to the fold and affording Regan considerable happiness. Then there were some of her classmates and a number of Maddox’s business colleagues, as well as a few of their neighbors and her clients. Gloria was coming, all the way from Montana with a plus one, arriving on the Friday.

  Regan had ordered a pair of chaps for Maddox, as well as boots and hats for both of them, and she hid her smile at his anticipated response when Gloria delivered them.

  He shook his head at her refusal to give up the work, walking her inside the back entrance and inside the mudroom. “You’re a stubborn wench and I love that about you.”

  With the efficiency that always took her breath away, he stripped her down to her underwear, tossing the soiled outer clothing into the bin set there for that purpose. She stood patiently, aware he regarded this ritual as unwrapping a gift and then pattered ahead to race him up the stairs. Any self-consciousness she had possessed had long since melted away due to his vast approval of her just the way she was.

  He caught her as she entered the master bedroom and nipped her shoulder. She scrambled onto the bed and watched as he removed his own clothes. When his shirt came off and joined his suit jacket, she leaned forward to open his belt.

  He was already hard beneath his slacks, and she carefully lowered the zipper to set him free. But before she could touch him, he shoved his remaining clothing off and was on her, pinning her to the mattress.

  Kissing his way down her torso, he folded her bra cups down and flicked each nipple with his tongue. She felt him smile against her skin when she shivered and arched into his touch. His big hands covered her breasts as he nuzzled over her mound before he used them to hold her hips steady.

  As she let her legs part, his dark head lowered and he pressed a kiss against the silk covering her. An instant later, her panties were gone and his clever mouth delved between her folds. A pleasurable torture, she couldn’t retreat, his body now holding her thighs wide as he tasted her.

  Knowing exactly what worked the best for her, he drove her need ever higher with languid licks and suckling. When he finally turned his attention to her clit, it took but a few moments of tender pressure for her to climax.

  “God, Maddox.”

  She’d tangled her fingers in his hair without thought, and tightened them, holding him to her as the shuddering waves of pleasure diminished. He lifted his head and watched her, their gazes colliding.

  “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he said.

  She tugged him up and over her body, only then relinquishing her hold to snuggle close. “How do you get any work done?”

  “Coming home makes it all worthwhile, baby.” He eased his weight on his elbows. “And come Saturday, you’ll be mine forever.”

  His thick erection found its way past her entrance, her slick tissues parting to accommodate him. She’d been his since that day in old Mr. Murphy’s office—as he’d been hers, despite the rocky and misunderstood journey—but marrying her was important to him.

  Fully joined, she put her arms around him as he wrapped her up. Rocking together in a celebration of their love, she spared a thought for the upcoming Saturday. Yes, theirs would be a small wedding, held on the lovingly repaired grounds of their house, witnessed by people she was proud to call family and friends.

  A far cry from The Inn, not that the where mattered. Wherever Maddox was, she was home.

  The End

  www.perielizabethscott.com

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  BONUS SAMPLE CHAPTER

  THE TATTERED BRIDE

  Peri Elizabeth Scott

  Copyright © 2016

  Chapter One

  4:00 PM

  “Baby, I know the timing sucks. I couldn’t have chosen a worse time. I know that. But…”

  “What’s wrong, Logan? What is it?” The cold chill of dreadful premonition traced its icy finger along her spine. Her own hands clenched around her bouquet, despite her need to touch him.

  He winced. The fit of his tuxedo was impeccable, and she watched the jacket tig
hten as his big body tensed. “There’s no other way to say it. I’m sorry. I’m calling off the wedding. We aren’t getting married.”

  The world narrowed to him and her, and a little slice of churning emotions she couldn’t decipher. “You’re calling off the wedding. Our wedding. Now.” Just in case she hadn’t heard him correctly. This had the makings of a horrible, sick joke…

  Shoving a hand through his hair, he obviously struggled to meet her stare. His tawny eyes were turbulent. “I am. I … just decided. It’s—”

  “What?” Victoria tumbled to it, falling into the abyss of her history. Deep down, she knew why. Too bad he’d only just decided. Now. At this inopportune time. All her issues and stupid insecurities washed over her from wherever they’d been banished to, banished by Logan’s resolute pursuit and sincere belief in her. He’d addressed her fears, made her whole—and now? Now her tender underbelly was exposed—without a shred of armor—for the deathblow. The sublime lovemaking of a mere few hours earlier faded in the face of it.

  “I—” Real pain and misery now seemed to burn in his eyes, and despite her terrified anticipation, she wanted to soothe him. Through set lips, he continued, “I don’t have the words to tell you why Victoria. I’m sorry. But the wedding is off.”

  Still, she waited, believing he would somehow embellish, give her an explanation that wouldn’t make this about her, but he stood there mutely, now staring someplace over her shoulder. She checked out the direction of that gaze—maybe there was an answer there, but she saw only a watercolor of a pastoral scene. Please.

  She let her pride crumble and begged. “Logan. This doesn’t make any sense. We… Only this morning…”

  He shook his head and straightened to his full height. “It’s off.”

  Deep inside there was an utter certainty that it did indeed make sense. He’d figured her out. Seen to the core of her the way others had. In despair, she gave up the fight to believe in him and their love in response to his firm declaration. The Victoria of her childhood emerged, in blind response, lashing out to hide from the truth.

 

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