Before taking a seat at their table, Madison turned to face him and found herself inches from his chest. Damn him, anyhow. He was enjoying this. “There are a few more things I should mention before you make your final decision.” Her headache was back in full force. Flustered, Madison looked out the window and saw a tall, blond-haired woman coming their way. “I can’t believe this!”
He followed her gaze. “What?”
“It’s Barbara. She’s coming this way.”
“Your friend?”
“Sort of, I guess.” The woman was actually a close friend of her cousin Heather, but there was no need to tell him that. “She lives nearby,” Madison explained. “It’s too soon for anyone to see us together. Barbara will never fall for it. As soon as she sees that this thing between the two of us is nothing but a farce, she’ll run off to report any doubts she has to my cousin Heather.” Her heart raced. “I wasn’t going to let anyone meet you until it was absolutely necessary.”
Barbara saw the two of them through the window. Her eyes lit up.
Madison stepped away from him. “Here.” She grabbed the questionnaire from the table and tucked it under his arm. “If you could answer these questions, maybe we could meet again this weekend to discuss them. By then we should know enough about one another and if all goes well, we can—”
“Get married.”
“Exactly.” Her stomach turned. “Oh, I forgot to tell you the most important part. Mr. Razzano, the executor in charge of the trust fund, wants to meet you as soon as possible.”
“He needs to meet me?”
“Afraid so. He said it was standard procedure in cases such as this. In accordance with the will, he needs to make sure you’re—you know—suitable. Will Saturday work for you?”
“Fine,” he said under his breath, although he looked more than a little put out.
She nodded.
A rush of cool air entered the coffee shop along with Barbara. The woman had a thick crop of blond hair piled on top of her head. “What a surprise. How are you, Madison?”
“Fine, thank you. So nice to see you.” Madison gave the woman an awkward hug before stepping back so that she could make introductions. “Barbara, this is Mr.—this is Jackson—my fiancé.”
Barbara’s mouth fell open. “Congratulations. I had no idea.”
Jackson shook the woman’s hand and then casually draped his arm over Madison’s shoulder.
“Unfortunately, Jackson’s in kind of a hurry,” Madison said, her gaze directed at his hand as it dangled precariously close to her breast. “He has important business that can’t wait another minute.” She looked up at him, and then finally nudged him, hoping he would take the hint.
After an awkward moment, he winked at Madison. “That’s right. In fact, I’m late…very late for that very important meeting I told you about. I should’ve been there hours ago.”
Madison tried not to laugh. He was a horrible liar.
Jackson dropped his hand from her shoulder and offered it once again to Barbara. “It was nice meeting you.”
Barbara didn’t look the least bit convinced, not until Jackson turned back to Madison and brought her tight against him, lifting her from the ground in the process.
“I’m going to miss you, sweetheart,” he said.
Madison pressed her palms against his hard chest, her body snug within his well-muscled arms. “Put me down, Jackson, honey. Please. That’s enough.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Barbara blush. Jackson’s little stunt was working. Once again he seemed to have full control over the situation—and that bothered her, especially when he let her body slide much too slowly down his chest until only the tips of her toes touched the ground.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jackson said, his mouth brushing against her ear, his voice a throaty whisper.
Before she could respond, he covered her lips with his.
His mouth felt warm and inviting and the kiss was incomparable to anything she’d ever experienced before. For a long heavenly moment she forgot, or maybe she just didn’t care, that she was standing in the middle of a coffee shop, kissing a gay man, with Heather’s friend looking on.
Chapter Three
Seven o’clock sharp the next morning, Jackson marched into Jamie’s office. “What the hell were you thinking?” Jackson asked his brother, irritated by the absurd turn his life was taking. Not only was he being pressured into marrying, his brother was pretending to be his boss and handing out information as if it were candy on Halloween.
And the kiss.
Jackson had definitely enjoyed kissing Madison. The kiss had not been part of the plan. He needed to forget about the kiss.
Leaning over his brother’s desk, he said, “What the hell prompted you to answer Madison Brown’s questions when she called?”
Jamie tapped his pen on the smooth marble desktop. “I thought it was the perfect opportunity to let the woman know what kind of man she was getting mixed up with. If I had refused to give her the information, she might have talked to someone else…maybe your assistant, someone who might have told her all about your many irritating habits.” Jamie set the pen down and rubbed his chin. “Instead, she only heard the good stuff.”
“Bullheaded, stubborn?” Jackson growled. “You call that the good stuff?”
“Oh, that. Well, I didn’t want you to sound too good. She might have caught on otherwise.”
“Very clever of you.”
Jamie grinned. “You’ve gotten yourself into one fine mess this time, big brother. By the way, when are you going to introduce your fiancée to Sheila?”
An overwhelming urge to wipe that smug look clean off his brother’s face struck Jackson. Instead he took a seat in the chair facing Jamie’s desk and said, “Sheila understands our relationship. We’re friends. And I really don’t think you’re the one to be giving me advice. A thirty-one-year-old man who has yet to see the same woman twice isn’t exactly someone I want to listen to when it comes to relationships.”
Jamie shook his head. “Whatever. But I’m not going to feel sorry for you when you’re old and gray and all alone in that big house of yours.”
Gripping the rounded arms of the leather chair, Jackson tried to relax. “I’m not going to allow you to get to me this time, little brother. I’m doing this for Walter.”
“Walter was like a father to me, too, but he wouldn’t want you to do this. The whole idea of it is absolutely insane.”
“Walter loved Heather,” Jackson said. “He made me promise I’d take care of her. That’s what I’m doing.”
Jamie picked up a manila folder and handed it to him. “Dick Price, the investigator you hired, brought this by earlier.”
Jackson had told Madison he’d already checked her out, but that wasn’t the whole truth. Until this very moment, he only knew what Heather had told him, but all of that was about to change. He opened the folder and skimmed through the contents until he came to an old article from the Los Angeles Times. Madison was on the front page, only her face was rounder and her dark hair was much shorter—same thick-rimmed eyeglasses, same big eyes. The headline read: “George Harris of Harris Athletic Shoes Dies.” In the picture, Madison appeared grief-stricken as she stood over her grandfather’s coffin. Heather and Walter stood in the foreground.
“Mr. Price said he wanted to talk to you and that he would get in touch with you later.” Jamie pointed at the picture of Madison. “Tell me that’s not the woman you’re going to marry.”
Paying little attention to his brother, Jackson flipped through the investigator’s facts sheet. Madison Anne Brown was born in Burbank, California. Her mother and father had never married. Her mother disappeared soon after she was born, leaving her to be raised by her father, who married Heather’s aunt when Madison was very young. She was twelve-years old when the marriage fell apart. Madison was taken in and adopted by Heather’s grandfather, George Harris. Although Madison was raised by George, she stayed with her fathe
r most weekends. Thanks to George, Madison attended the University of Southern California, where she majored in business. Currently she worked as an accountant for Castle and Klein, a CPA firm.
She certainly had her share of heartache growing up. As Jackson turned one page after another, he didn’t like the knot forming in his gut. He snapped the folder shut. “That’s her, all right.”
“Why are you really doing this? Heather wasn’t the one who fed and clothed you…or put you through school. Write her a check if you must, but don’t marry this woman for Heather’s sake.”
“It’s only for three months. After this is done, Heather promised she wouldn’t ask anything else of me. Besides, Heather plans to give the money to charity. She’s only trying to stop her cousin from throwing millions of dollars away.”
“Fine,” Jamie said. “If you’re going to go through with this crazy plan, we might as well take advantage of the situation.”
“How so?”
“The Starlight Ball is this Friday night,” Jamie said. “It’s one of the biggest fundraisers in Los Angeles, and our potential client, Peter Bingham, will be there. Bingham prefers to do business with responsible men, married men with families, if you catch my meaning.”
Jackson looked at his brother. “So?”
“So…knowing how Mr. Bingham feels about family men, if I were to tell Bingham you were engaged, that might just seal the deal.” Jamie quirked a brow. “You could introduce Madison to Bingham and his wife at the ball next Friday night.”
The muscles in Jackson’s shoulders tightened. “Why don’t we just pretend the family man is you?”
Jamie chuckled. “Get real. Bingham would never believe it. And besides, you’re the one who made the deal with the devil, not me. But at least now you might actually get something out of this marriage after all. Once Bingham signs on the dotted line, it’ll be smooth sailing for L & L. This is the break we’ve been waiting for. Say the word and I’ll give Bingham a call.”
“I don’t know. It’s not ethical.”
Jamie laughed. “You, the man who is planning to marry a stranger for three months and then bow out at the last minute, is talking to me about ethics?” Jamie ran his fingers through untamed hair. “Listen,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. “Married or not, you know we deserve the Bingham account. We’ve worked with the old man for years and he just keeps stringing us along. He’s playing with us, Jackson. It’s time we gave him a taste of his own medicine.”
There was a long pause before Jackson said, “Okay, yeah, sure…go ahead.” He came to his feet.
Jamie smiled. “For a predictable, no-nonsense kind of a guy, you sure can surprise the hell out of me sometimes.” He straightened the papers stacked on his desk. “So, have you two lovebirds set the date yet?”
Jackson tried not to let his brother’s offbeat sense of humor get to him. Jamie could be exhausting. “It’ll be sooner rather than later. And it isn’t going to be a formal affair, so don’t get out your tux. A quick ceremony before a judge and it’ll be over. I want the whole thing quiet…out of the public eye.”
“Let me take care of the ceremony,” Jamie said. “We’ll have it at my house. We’ll invite Bingham and a few other clients who would be put off if we didn’t. If you’re going to do this, let’s do it right.”
The idea of letting his brother get involved worried Jackson, but one way or another Jamie would find a way to get his paws in the middle of it all. He always did. Besides, inviting a few important guests would solidify their business relationship with Bingham. What harm could it do?
“No pictures. I promise,” Jamie added. “Small and quaint.”
When Jackson reached the door, he turned back to his brother and said, “small and quaint.”
“I promise.” Jamie smiled. “Leave it to me, big brother. Just leave everything to me.”
~~~
Three hours later Jackson parked along East Palm Avenue and waited for Madison to return home.
The sun was shining brightly, which contrasted with his dark mood. What was he doing here? It seemed ever since Walter’s death he’d lost all sense.
He crossed his arms and leaned against his Porsche Cayenne, reminding himself that Jamie’s idea for him to ask Madison to the dance made sense. If he were going to marry Madison, temporary or not, he may as well make the most of it. And what could be more satisfying than the Bingham contract?
The August heat felt good against his face as he looked around. Madison’s house wasn’t what he’d expected. It was small with lots of colorful wildflowers lining the cracked, but neatly swept, walkway. Planter boxes filled with greenery underscored the windows. Her home was quaint, a home that could easily belong to a teacher or a starving artist, not to an heir of a small fortune.
Jackson glanced at his watch. It was five o’clock. He’d wait another fifteen minutes, he decided, and then head for home.
Across the street, one of the neighbors stopped mowing the grass long enough to give him a friendly wave. Jackson lifted a hand in response and took in a whiff of freshly mowed grass.
Jackson turned toward the street when he heard what sounded like a herd of dying cows headed his way. Instead of cows, he saw Madison behind the wheel of a beat-up Volkswagen Bug.
The pieces of the puzzle didn’t seem to fit. Where were all the tangible elements that constituted greed? As he watched Madison climb out of her car, he gestured hello with a tip of his chin and headed toward her.
She looked surprised, maybe even pleased, to see him. She pulled out a fishing pole from the backseat and propped it on the fender of her car. “Jackson, what are you doing here?”
He smiled at the charming picture she made with her dirt-smudged face and tangled hair. “I was in the area and I thought I’d stop by to say hello.” Towering over her, he crinkled his nose at the pungent smell of fish.
"Sorry,” she said, waving her hands through the air. “I’ve been fishing.”
Even with her hair pulled up in a tangled web and smelling like fish, he felt drawn to her. Madison Brown had a natural, earthy way about her. No makeup. Flawless skin. Beautiful eyes.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing at all. Why do you ask?”
“You’re looking at me as if I have two heads, and I’m pretty sure I only have one.”
He smiled, something he seemed to do a lot when he was around her. “I was thinking how very pretty you looked.”
She nudged his arm with the elbow of her muddied arm and laughed. “Now that’s a good one.”
He’d also been thinking about the kiss they shared the other day. One simple kiss that had managed to turn his world upside down. He couldn’t forget the satisfying taste of her, like a refreshing iced tea on a hot day. He wanted to kiss her again, see if their first kiss was a fluke.
“Do you want to come in?”
“Sure,” he said. “For a moment.”
Before she could snatch up her fishing pole, he picked it up and tucked it under his arm, along with the rest of her gear. “Lead the way.”
The warped garage door creaked in protest as she lifted it fully open. “You can put that stuff in the corner over there.”
The inside of the garage was clean and well-kept, everything in its proper place. “So, you went fishing, huh?”
“Yeah.” She wrinkled her nose. “My first time.”
“Catch anything?”
“I did. According to Adam, my fish was eight inches long.”
Adam. His insides twisted, and he scolded himself for feeling a moment of jealousy. “Adam,” he said. “Your brother?”
Her lips curved into a wry grin. “I guess you haven’t done your homework, after all. I don’t have a brother—or a sister, for that matter.”
“I guess not,” he agreed, knowing full well from the detailed report he’d read that she was an only child.
“Adam is one of the kids I mentioned yesterday.”
Jackson disposed of the g
ear. “Kids?”
“CFC, remember? Disadvantaged children? Learning disabilities? Adam is one of many teens who come to the center to get a break from their problems. The volunteers and the kids gather in the big gray stucco building on Wilshire Boulevard. Maybe you would enjoy helping out some time. New faces are always welcome.”
“Sounds tempting,” he said, and he actually meant it.
Her smile was dazzling. She pulled her keys from her purse. “Adam’s fourteen, and until today he’d never been fishing either.”
Jackson couldn’t get a handle on her. Yesterday, Madison had looked scared to death of him. Today, she acted as if they had been friends for years. She opened the door that led from her garage into the house. He followed her inside. “I thought you worked as an accountant?”
“I do. If you must know the truth,” she said mischievously, “I called in sick. And,” she said, giving him another ravishing smile as her eyes roamed over him from head to toe, “it seems I’m not the only one playing hooky today.”
~~~
Madison was in the kitchen when she peeked over her shoulder at Jackson, who was looking at all the pictures lining her living room wall. Knowing he preferred men to women made it so easy to be around him. But it sure didn’t stop her from noticing how good he looked in his tawny pants and white polo shirt. He smelled good, too, and he still had that unshaven, Indiana Jones look that made her wish he was straight.
“Can I get you something to drink? How about a bite of my famous apple pie?”
“You baked a pie?”
Madison laughed at the expression on his face…as if he’d never met a woman in his life who could actually bake. “I may look like a sophisticated woman,” she held up her smelly, dirty hands, “but I can bake. Maybe your chef—” She winced, trying to remember his name.
“Chris,” he said as he joined her in the kitchen.
“That’s right…Chris. Maybe he’ll have some baking tips for me.” She crooked her neck in order to look into Jackson’s eyes, wishing she hadn’t when a jolt of awareness struck her, reminding her of how his mouth had felt on hers. She quickly looked away.
An Offer He Can't Refuse Page 4
