by Vivien Dean
In the hall, Maddy whirled to face Cash. “What the hell was that all about?”
She didn’t get an answer. Instead, Cash grabbed her upper arms and pulled her to his chest, crushing his lips to hers.
The kiss stunned her into immobility. To say she hadn’t expected it was an understatement. Even in the crazy world of the painting, it made absolutely zero sense. What also made no sense was how good his hard body felt pressed so tightly against hers, the unmistakable proof of his arousal prodding into her stomach. She gasped when she felt it, and Cash immediately took advantage of her parting lips, his tongue delving inside, exploring the recesses of her mouth with an expert ease that left her body warm and liquid. Maddy had just started to respond to it, albeit reluctantly and hating her body for its betrayal, when his lips moved from hers to slide across her cheek and hover by her ear.
“We’ve got an audience,” he whispered.
Maddy stiffened, turning her head just enough to glance over her shoulder. From the darkness, Scratchy watched them, his knuckles white around his clipboard.
“Go tell Gino I’ll be right there,” Cash said over her head.
Scratchy hesitated, then turned and fled, at which point Cash’s arms disappeared and he stepped back.
“Right,” he said. “We’ve only got a second, so let’s get this straight. You know that roster Lombardi kept bringing up?” At her nod, he smiled. “Well, it’s not about dancing, I’m pretty sure.”
“Then what is it?”
“Let’s call them…extracurricular activities. Of the horizontal nature.”
Understanding slowly dawned. “I’m a…this is a…” She couldn’t even bring herself to say the words. She could only stare at him in disbelief.
“Actually, I think it’s more of a private club,” Cash explained. “I saw the clientele. Very posh. And unless you’ve got some secret fantasy about being a high-priced call girl, I think it’s probably in your best interest to play along with the whole engagement thing. Go out there, dance a little, and then after everything, we’ll sit down and try to figure out what exactly is going on.”
Behind him, Scratchy poked his head back into the hallway and cleared his throat. “Gino’s waiting,” he said, his voice almost breaking.
Cash took a step back and smiled, his head tilting in wicked amusement. “Buck up, Maddy. It won’t be all that bad. I mean…what’s a little dancing?”
Chapter Three
For a split second, Maddy found herself swept away by the elegance of it all. The room looked just as it did in the painting, with the beautiful young women in their vibrant dresses, the tuxedoed men of varying age scattered amongst them. The brass band created the heady ambience reminiscent of some wartime movie. Even the sight of Cash with a burly, dark-haired guy lurking in the doorway seemed somehow appropriate, somehow right.
As she stepped into the club, Maddy felt the eyes of its occupants, men and women alike, turn to look at her. Unconsciously, she straightened, holding her head higher, staring down the most blatant of the admirers. It was obvious from the appreciative stares that not only did she look good—something even Cash had attested to, much to her astonishment—but that she had some sort of reputation as well, the crowd parting automatically to make room for her to pass without hindrance. It was disconcerting. Madeline Cardinale was known for making things beautiful, not for being the object of beauty.
What was it Cash had said this whole place was? Magic? It had to be. That was the only way she could be the center of attention.
Her gaze fell upon the bar. She had to get through this night somehow. All she needed was a little alcoholic support.
The bartender leapt to serve her as she approached, an attentive smile on his leathered face. “The usual, Miss Cardinale?”
Oh, my God, I have a usual.
Maintaining as calm an exterior as she could, Maddy flashed him a bright smile. “Sounds good.” It took only a moment for him to pour something clear into a shot glass and set it down in front of her. “Thanks.”
It stung as it burned a trail down her throat, siphoning her breath away as it sizzled to her stomach. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she blinked twice before lowering her head and glass. She needed to hold it together. If she couldn’t handle her usual, the people in this mixed-up place would know something was up. All she had to do was get through the night. That’s what Cash had said.
Lifting her gaze back to the bartender, Maddy smiled, a little wavery but as bright as she could muster. “Just what I needed.”
He nodded and turned away as two men approached the other end of the bar. As soon as she was out of his line of sight, Maddy closed her eyes, the alcohol already worming its insidious way through her system, her limbs loosening, the anxiety in her gut easing. What else had Cash said? It’s only dancing. She could do that. She did that every time Ava dragged her out on her night off.
Squaring her shoulders, Maddy turned to face the club just as the band picked up its instruments to launch into a loud, brassy number. Her smile faded as she saw the couples take to the floor, their feet moving faster than she thought imaginable, skirts flying through the air as the women were dipped and whipped around. With the beat of the music sweeping everyone into a frenzy, the energy pulsated against their skins until the room began to blur.
The small of her back pressed into the counter as Maddy leaned backward, and she felt rather than saw the bartender return.
Her hand fumbled to push the shot glass closer to him. “Get me another.”
So far, so good, Cash thought. Gino’s earlier problem had been solved without any physical interference. In the end, all it took was a few choice words in the offending gentleman’s ear and the issue had been settled. Under other circumstances, in a world he had abandoned when he’d fled England, he would’ve resorted to magic to get the job done. It was remarkably satisfying to think he could get the same result without the extra aid.
The only fly in the ointment was Maddy. When she had emerged from the back, glowing and vibrant, walking through the place like she’d owned it, Cash had practically preened. In this place, she was his. Every guy wanted to be him because they knew, at the end of the night, Madeline Cardinale was going home with him.
Then she’d hit the bar. Three straight shots later, she was laughing too loudly, flirting with an ever-growing circle of men, allowing herself to be led out to the dance floor only occasionally when the band launched into a slow waltz. He had to watch as hands found their way to her ass, as arms held her against bodies that weren’t his. It was ridiculous, but every time it happened, Cash’s jaw tensed, and the thunder in his gut threatened to ball his hands into fists.
At one point, Gino leaned over and whispered, “Relax. She’s just doing her job.”
He snorted. “I’m not jealous.” But his eyes narrowed, riveted on her scarlet form as she went back onto the dance floor yet again.
The thing of it was, Cash didn’t know how he felt. What Maddy did certainly wasn’t his business, and while he was definitely attracted her, she made her disgust for him clear. He wanted to say he didn’t understand where it came from, but in his heart, he knew it was partly his fault. He deliberately pushed her buttons. Taunted her. Teased. It had always been worth the trade off to see the responding fire in her eyes. God, she was gorgeous when she was all worked up.
So, seeing her toss away smiles and light to men who didn’t know her a fraction as well as he did rankled. It shouldn’t, but it did. It made the anger boil beneath his skin, simmering on a low flame until even Gino started to edge away from him. And when the conductor announced the last dance of the evening, Cash did the only thing that made any sense. He bolted from his post and marched straight to where she sat at the bar.
A cluster of men surrounded Maddy, perched on her high stool like a princess holding court. Her laughter was a crystal bell, her eyes bright. Cash reached past the throng to grip the velvet of her upper arm. “C’mon,” he said, yanking her from the s
eat.
“Cash!” Her smile was brilliant as she stumbled against him. Steadying herself with an open palm, she started to turn back to the other men when she stopped, her wide-eyed attention suddenly focused on his chest. “Whoa…” she murmured. “You work out.”
As good as it felt to have her sliding her fingers inside the lapels of his jacket, warmer than he would’ve imagined even with the now real memory of how she felt in his arms, Cash could see the questions starting to rise in the eyes of the men around them. Leaning in, his mouth hovered just an inch from her ear as he said, “Nobody’s interested in what we do outside of working hours, Maddy.”
He said it loudly enough to be easily overheard, but she didn’t seem to notice, spinning to beam at the other men. “This is Cash,” she announced matter-of-factly. “He works here too. We’re going to get married, aren’t we, Cash?”
The last was said with a pirouette to face him again, but she over-rotated and swayed off-balance. As he caught her, Cash heard someone mutter, “Lucky bastard,” but it did little to divert his awareness from the soft curves pressed against him again. She was so tiny—he’d teased her more than once about barely being a handful—and to see her head tilted back, exposing her neck, drawing his eyes straight to the swell of her breasts, made all the blood in his body go rushing to his cock.
Her big blue eyes gazed up at him, innocent of what she was doing to his body. “I don’t know why you want to marry me.” Her breath was slightly sweet from the alcohol. “You’re mean to me. Every day, you tell me—”
“—how absolutely gorgeous you are,” Cash finished before she could say something that would get them both into trouble. He shot an apologetic smile over her head at the other men. “She’s drunk.” As if that was enough of an explanation.
Maddy immediately pouted and pulled away. “No,” she denied. “I’m a ray of sunshine. I work here at the Rising Sun, and that makes me a ray of sunshine.”
He cocked a brow at them as if to say see what I mean? and slid his arm back around Maddy’s waist. He had to get her out of there before everything went to hell. “It’s the last dance, you know.” He bent to run a territorial kiss across her cheek. “You always save that one for me.”
“I do?” Her eyes widened, then softened as she smiled with understanding. “Of course, I do. Because you’re my boyfriend.” She blew her now-disappointed admirers a kiss. “Sorry, guys.”
She let Cash lead her onto the floor, melting into his arms as he pulled her into a slow dance. His gaze darted to Gino and then the back exit, hoping that Lombardi wouldn’t decide to make an impromptu appearance. Somehow, he had a feeling that employees who fraternized during business hours were at the top of the boss’ no-no list. When she snuggled against his chest, though, rubbing her cheek along the smooth fabric of his jacket, all thoughts about getting caught were driven from Cash’s mind. He’d had more than one dream about what it would be like to be this intimate with Maddy. To feel the inferno of her skin so close to his grasp was enough to bring it all crashing back. This was what mattered. Not some magical painting.
He ended the dance in oblivion, conscious only of her body pressed against his, and was startled when she pulled away and started clapping with the rest of the crowd. He was about to lead her back to the dressing room when Gino’s hand came down on his shoulder.
“Car’s out front,” the other bouncer said in his ear. “Get her outta here. I’ll cover with Lombardi.”
“Thanks.” With a firm hold on Maddy’s arm, Cash piloted her toward the other door.
The brisk night air made the fire in his skin ebb, and Cash took a long moment upon exiting the nightclub to gaze at the streets around them. They were still in New York City, and though it had to be two in the morning, the neighborhood bustled with others getting ready to retire for the day. A couple passed in front of him, styled similarly to everyone inside, and Cash followed them with his eyes as he assessed the situation.
It had been a long time since he had witnessed magic powerful enough to create an entire world to this detail. Nothing appeared out of place to the time period, not the forties’ fashion, not the architecture, not the sounds of the city around them. Whoever created the painting had even gone as far as to create alternate lives for him and Maddy, and while he certainly wasn’t complaining about the idea of being engaged, it reeked of motives far sneakier than made him comfortable. He’d done everything he could to ensure he wasn’t found. The last thing he wanted was for an innocent party to get dragged into his own private war. Especially if it was Maddy.
A long, black car was parked along the street, and within moments of the pair stepping onto the sidewalk, a waiting chauffeur bounded forward to open the back door for them. “Home, sir?” he queried as Cash waited for Maddy to get in.
Lombardi had said they lived together. They were finally going to get some privacy to talk things through.
Nodding to the driver, Cash climbed into the car to find Maddy with her skirts up around her thighs, her hands tugging at the strappy sandals that seemed glued to her feet. Without thought, his gaze strayed to the stocking-clad curve of her leg, following it up past her knee, settling on the pool of velvet that hid the apex of her thighs. A hint of a garter peeked through.
“Stupid shoes!” Maddy finally cried out, and thrust her feet onto his lap. “You seem to be the expert on everything else tonight. You get them off.”
The movement shoved her dress up even further, and the chauffeur glanced into his rearview mirror as he turned the key in the ignition. Frowning, Cash reached to tug the hem back down a bit and then shifted to obscure the driver’s view even more. “Stop overreacting,” he scolded, lightly grasping a slim ankle in his hand.
“I’m not—ohhhhh…” Her protestation ended in a throaty moan of ecstasy as Cash slid the leather sandal from her swollen foot. Small gasps of pleasure made her breasts rise and fall when he did the same with its mate. By the time he’d tossed them to the floor, she had caught her lower lip between her teeth, eyes fluttering shut as she basked in the relief.
“They’re just shoes,” Cash said.
“And it was just dancing.” A hand fluttered at him in what looked to be some kind of dismissal. “You can’t understand. All you did was stand in one place all night and do nothing. Kind of like at your real job back at the museum.”
She said the last with such a bright smile that he bristled, remembering how she’d showered those same false affections on so many strangers over the course of the night. “I didn’t exactly see you do much dancing,” he shot back. “From where I was standing, you seemed to be too busy flirting and getting drunk and giving every guy in the place a hard-on. Playing the coquette didn’t really leave you much time to do anything else.”
Propping herself up on her elbows, she stared at him in disbelief. “That’s my job, remember? You were the one who was so quick to tell me what I had to do if I didn’t want to spend the whole night on my back.”
“Looks like you’re already there.”
“You don’t count.”
His teeth audibly clicked together as he clenched his jaw. As much fun as it was going back and forth with Maddy, trying to do that while he was busy worrying about the details of the painting was too exhausting. “Go to sleep,” he ordered, his voice terse. “Maybe we’ll both get lucky and when you wake up, you’ll be back in your own bed and all this will have been a dream.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You said this was real. I distinctly remember you telling me this was real.” She paused. “Unless I dreamed that part too.”
“Go to sleep, Maddy,” he repeated, this time more quietly. He wouldn’t get any sense out of her while she was this drunk.
With a pout, she started to pull her legs off his lap in order to curl them beneath her body. The instant her foot trailed over the bulge in his trousers, however, she froze, her mouth making a perfect, red O.
“Do you work out here too?” Running her arch along his hard length, sh
e used her toes to outline it against the heavy fabric of his pants. “I can always help you, if you want…”
The most difficult thing he’d done since landing in the middle of the painting was grab her foot and shove it away from his willing flesh. But he did it, and then turned his body to face her instead of giving her the opportunity to put her leg back on his lap.
“That’s the alcohol talking,” Cash said. “You can’t stand me, remember?”
She was on top of him before he could react. Full breasts crushed to his chest as Maddy leaned up to bite at his chin, locking her arms around his neck to stop him from moving her. “That doesn’t mean I don’t think you look absolutely scrummy in this tux.”
Her hand slipped between their bodies, nails scratching through his shirt while it slid down his abdomen. When it found his throbbing cock, it stopped, coiled around it. Squeezed. Cash’s eyes fluttered closed at the sudden burst of electricity that shot through his veins. It was tempting to take her up on her offer, to throw caution to the wind and rip the plush velvet from her skin. He could drown in the power of her thighs, sink into the wet heat emanating from her flesh, and ride her senseless right there in the car, all with Maddy’s blessing. God knew, he wanted it.
Only thing was, she didn’t. Not really. This was a drunk and scared Maddy acting out. He was a life raft in the middle of the chaos, and she needed to feel safe. He hadn’t worked with her for the past two years, and seen what had happened each time some idiot broke her heart, not to have learned that. He wasn’t going to be that guy she bitched about the next day. She disliked him enough already.
Grasping her upper arms, Cash sat up so that it knocked her off his lap, and slid her over to the opposite side of the car. “If I’d known you were a horny drunk,” he said, making his tone more callous than he felt, “I wouldn’t have ignored you at the Christmas ’do last year. Who was it you ended up leaving with? That security guard who turned out to be married?”
