by J. S. Scott
Wish I would have remembered she was still here. I would have closed the door.
Folding her arms in front of her impatiently, Helen asked sharply, “Did I…or did I not hear you say you were going to make that girl marry you, Samuel?”
Dammit. He was really in trouble if she was calling him Samuel.
“She’s going to marry me,” he told his mother stubbornly.
“She’s educated, she’s smart and she’s beautiful. Stop treating her like you have dominant caveman genes and maybe you’ll succeed. You can’t just club the woman over the head and drag her away to your cave. She deserves your respect,” Helen admonished him.
“I do respect her. I wouldn’t want to marry her if I didn’t,” Sam argued.
“Then treat her well and stop acting like an ass,” Helen retorted. “I’d like to see you as happy as Simon is, Sam,” she finished in a wistful voice. She lifted her palm to cup his cheek. “You both deserve to be happy.”
Sam bent and bussed his mother’s cheek. Helen Hudson hadn’t had an easy life, and she had given both he and Simon as much as she possibly could when she was raising them, including her love. He knew she wanted him to be happy.
“Are we ready?” Kara strode into the room dressed to travel in jeans, a trendy sweater and ankle boots, Maddie following behind her.
Simon jumped out of the chair so fast he nearly tipped it over. “Yeah. I’m ready, sweetheart. Let’s go.”
Sam nearly burst into laughter at Simon’s eagerness. He knew his brother was not only ready to start his honeymoon, but impatient to get away from Mom when she was in one of her rare lecturing moods.
Maddie stood beside Kara, having showered and changed into jeans and another breast-hugging shirt. The three women locked arms and headed toward the door, hugging and kissing like they would never see each other again. Kara had been a friend of his mother’s for years, and Maddie had become very friendly with Mom over the last year.
Sam started after them, ready to see everybody out. He wanted to be alone with Maddie.
Simon snagged his arm, uttering in a low voice, “I say stick with the plan. Use the club if you need to.”
Sam nodded, mesmerized by Maddie’s gently swaying hips as she walked with Kara and his mom to the door.
Mine.
Feral possessiveness slammed him in the gut as he watched his woman smile at his mom and Kara.
He turned his head to see Simon staring at Kara in exactly the same way.
Simon turned to Sam and the brothers’ eyes locked, exchanging an intense look of understanding and agreement before they both nodded emphatically at the same time.
He’d give Maddie as much time as he could, but eventually he’d give in and use the caveman tactics. He wouldn’t be able to help himself. He needed her so damn much, even if he didn’t deserve her.
Thinking about his reaction when she’d attempted to touch his cock, he frowned. He should have at least tried to explain. But that was a part of his past he didn’t want to remember, didn’t want to explain, even to Maddie. Especially to Maddie. He didn’t want to see the look of revulsion when he told her, when she realized just how contaminated he was by his past. He’d done what he’d needed to do to protect his brother. Still, it had tainted him, and Maddie might be a doctor, but she was still so incredibly sweet. That part of his life was in the past and he wanted it to stay there.
But I rejected her, pushed her away.
Because he had needed to do it. Thinking about it just made him feel less worthy of a woman like Maddie. She didn’t need to be polluted by his bullshit.
I wanted her touch, I wanted to feel her mouth on me.
His reaction had been instinctive, an aversion that he’d had since he was a child. Since there were certain things he didn’t want sexually, he’d made an art out of pleasuring a woman. And Maddie had been pleasured. She had climaxed so beautifully, so erotically. Just thinking about it nearly made him groan aloud as he raked his hand through his hair in frustration. Every sexual experience he had ever had paled beside that incredible encounter with Maddie, his every sexual fantasy come to life.
Trying to block his past, trying not to remember how very fucked up he still was, he went to join the others.
Chapter 9
It was several days before Maddie actually read Sam’s medical records. Strangely, he hadn’t made love to her again at his house. They’d gone to bed after Kara, Simon and Helen had left, exhausted from the events of the wedding. She had slept in his enormous bed, actually longing for him to touch her, but he hadn’t. Somehow, he seemed distant, not at all as they had been during their incredible experience out on the dock. He remained aloof the next day. They had spent a lazy morning and afternoon watching movies in his home theater before she had needed to get back home to take care of some personal business before returning to work.
She had agreed to his business proposition of taking over the clinic as a charitable entity, and she had given the hospital her notice. Sam had stubbornly insisted on her not going back to work at the clinic until she was ready to start full-time. He was keeping paid staff there until she could do so. She hadn’t liked it, but she had agreed. If working full-time at the clinic meant she had to wait a few weeks to go back, she’d do it.
He hadn’t mentioned marriage again after they had hammered out an agreement for the clinic. She’d left his house with a brief good-bye and plans to improve the clinic, and he had told her he would call her.
It had been three days, and she still hadn’t heard from him. Now, disquiet was beginning to set in, and Maddie’s brain was working overtime.
Something’s not right. His reaction to me when I touched him was as if…
She flipped open the manila folder, taking a sip of her wine as she relaxed in a comfortable pair of old pajamas on her couch. Not even sure why she was reading the file, she turned the pages, finding his recent physical and his negative results for all sexual diseases and blood work. It wasn’t exactly a shocker that he was in superb physical condition after seeing his body in the raw, up close and personal, an incredible specimen of male perfection.
Trying not to think about that she kept turning the pages, seeing very little except a few incidents of viruses over the last ten or twelve years, but nothing significant.
Maddie knew she had seen enough to know that Sam was medically doing fine, but curiosity made her flip to the thick file in the back of his medical documents, wondering what had happened to accumulate so many old records.
Her eyes grew wide as she realized they were all psychological records, documentation of visits with a psychologist.
Victim of sexual abuse…forceful anal penetration resulting in rectal bleeding…fondling of the genitals…occurring from age 11 to age 12.
Maddie tore her eyes away from the records with a horrified gasp. Putting a hand to her racing heart, she tried to calm her frenzied breathing.
Dear God, no! It had to be wrong. Not Sam. Please, not Sam.
She downed her wine in a couple of gulps and put the file on the couch to fetch another glass, her thoughts racing.
She returned with a very full wine glass, her body shaking as she sat down again. As a physician, Maddie had seen plenty of rape and molestation cases. Every one of them was horrifying, but she just couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around the fact that Sam had suffered in that way.
Sometimes, I just don’t like to be…touched.
Maddie shuddered, remembering his deep baritone saying those words, the brief look of fear in his eyes as he said them. She had known something was wrong, that it was an instinctive reaction. Somewhere deep in her mind alarm bells had sounded even then, knowing it was the reaction of a man who had somehow been hurt.
“Shit. I wouldn’t want to be touched there either if someone had violated me,” she whispered to herself.
Setting her wine on the coffee table, she lifted the file again. He had started therapy and stayed with it for three years. Skipping the acco
unt of all of the graphic incidents, she read the psychologist’s notes that had started three years after her relationship with Sam and that had continued for three years after the first date of therapy. Tears poured from her eyes as she read, an occasional sob escaping as she read the accounts of how Sam had struggled to deal with the problems arising from the molestation. He had been so damn brave, probably much braver than she would have been in his situation. Sam had initiated the therapy himself, wanting to get over some of the symptoms he was having which were similar to PTSD. And he had healed. There were some things that would always take work and patience, but he had tried to heal much of the trauma.
Maybe she should feel guilty for reading his history, but she didn’t. Sam still had a few things he needed to work on, and she couldn’t help him if he didn’t talk to her. No doubt he wanted to leave it in the past, but there were some things that apparently still haunted him, things that would only be overcome by learning to trust.
Maddie knew Sam hadn’t meant for her to see these records. He had obviously asked somebody for his medical records and they had provided them. Everything. Including his visits for therapy.
Wiping her saturated face with the sleeve of her pajamas, she finished her glass of wine and flipped to the beginning of the psychological evaluation, not ready to read about the actual incidents, but compelled to do so. She tried to look at it clinically, as a medical doctor reading a patient history, but it didn’t work. She sobbed as she read, her heart tearing to pieces with every incident, unable to picture anything but her beloved Sam, as an eleven year old boy, being hurt by men that got off by torturing him.
She had barely finished reading when the overwhelming nausea struck, making her run to the bathroom, still keening for Sam’s pain. As a physician, Dr. Madeline Reynolds had a will of steel and a cast iron stomach. But as a woman, Maddie heaved until she was lightheaded and dizzy, totally forgetting she was a physician, reacting only as a woman who loved.
*****
The next evening, Maddie stopped at the clinic after work, and felt completely out of sorts. The fill-in young male physician, Dr. Turner, seemed to have everything under control with the help of a young, blonde nurse who seemed to idolize the handsome doctor. Feeling bereft and bored, she headed for the restaurant where she had agreed to meet Max Hamilton. She had two days off, and nothing planned.
She sighed, unused to not being busy every minute of every day. It felt good to actually have some free time, but the days were lonely when she had nothing to occupy herself. Her only plans were dinner this evening and probably two days of cleaning her house, a job that she only did sporadically when she had the time. It could use a heavy cleaning and she had nothing else planned.
She let out a deep breath as she turned into the restaurant, acknowledging that she missed Sam. But she would let him contact her when he was ready. Strangely, she had no doubt that he would.
The restaurant was a nice one, a place known for steak and seafood. She’d never been here, but she glad she had worn a dress and heels. The weather was miserable, windy and stormy, the temperatures below normal. She put her hands in her pockets as she hustled to the door, shivering as she went through the entrance.
“Dr. Reynolds?” The hostess greeted her immediately.
Surprised, and grateful for the warmth of the interior, she answered, “Yes?”
“Your party is here. I’ll take you to your table.” The tall brunette waited for Maddie to come up behind her and led her through the sophisticated restaurant to a quiet table in the corner. The décor was quietly elegant, finished mostly in black and white with modern but tasteful prints, one wall constructed entirely of glass to overlook the water.
Max Hamilton rose as Maddie arrived at the table, a genuine smile on his lips as he said, “Hi, Maddie. I’m so glad you could make it.”
He was suave and elegant in a tan suit and navy and tan matching tie, every inch of him exuding power and control, but she had never sensed any harmful intentions behind his smile, and she still didn’t.
He seated her before returning to his own chair. “What would you like to drink?” he asked, summoning a waiter, and ordering a Scotch on the rocks for himself.
Shrugging out of her coat, she answered, “Just a glass of wine. Anything that isn’t extremely dry is fine.”
Max placed an order for a glass of white Zinfandel as she accepted a menu from the waiter.
He openly stared at her after the waiter left, his expression unreadable. Maddie looked at him with open fascination. What was her about his man that drew her, made her want to hug him until he didn’t feel so alone anymore? Loneliness and sorrow seemed to hang over him like a dark cloud, even though she’d mostly seen him smiling. She could sense both emotions, subliminal, yet heartbreaking.
Tearing her eyes away from his face, she picked up her menu. “What’s good? I’ve never been here before.”
He grinned. “Everything. It just depends on what you’d like.”
“I’m not exactly a picky eater,” she answered in a self-mocking tone.
Their drinks arrived and they ordered. Max asked her a million questions while they sipped their drinks and during dinner, his interest flattering. By the time they had their dessert, they were talking like old friends.
“So tell me how you know Simon and Sam?” she asked curiously before taking a bite of her incredible-looking chocolate mousse.
“We’ve joined forces in ventures together for years. Sam has a knack for picking all the right ones. I just invest.” He answered, placing his spoon on his plate, his dessert finished.
“That’s not true,” she retorted, naming some prominent ventures that had been his initial idea.
He looked startled. “I guess you really pay attention to the financial news. Probably watching Sam,” he guessed…correctly.
Maddie hated to admit that she’d followed Hudson and its financial achievements for years.
Max put up a hand. “I’m not offended. Don’t worry. It’s obvious you and Sam have something going on. I like Sam. I’m not even thinking of stepping on his toes. I just want to be…friends.” His voice hesitated on the last word.
Maddie examined his expression. He seemed sincere, but she suspected that there was something else he wanted. Her best guess is that what he really wanted was companionship, something to take away the loneliness she could feel radiating from his soul, a sense of loneliness so profound that it was nearly tangible.
“Where are your parents, family?” she asked, trying to decipher why this man seemed so solitary.
“I was an only child. And my parents died in a car accident ten years ago,” he answered quietly.
He’s alone. Completely alone. A kindred soul. Maddie knew exactly how that felt, and her heart bled for him. She almost wished she hadn’t asked.
He smiled at her, a warm smile that made his handsome face even more attractive. “I had great parents. I was lucky, even though I lost them way too soon.”
She finished her dessert as she listened to him reminisce about memories of his parents, funny stories in happier times. Obviously, he had dealt with that loss. It had to be the more recent loss of his wife that really haunted him.
“You know Sam doesn’t really sleep around, don’t you?” Max asked her after he had paused in his family stories to down the rest of his Scotch.
Maddie nearly choked on her wine. “Excuse me?” she queried, not sure if she had understood what Max was asking.
Max shrugged. “I’m just saying…the stories about Sam for the most part aren’t true. He might take some of his female friends to parties, but he doesn’t sleep with them like people think he does. He’s gotten a bad reputation that he really doesn’t deserve,” he finished casually, but his eyes were intense.
“And how would you know that it isn’t true?” she questioned, wondering where this whole conversation was headed.
“Sam and I have known each other a long time. We go to a lot of the same functions, s
ocialize in the same circles. Most of the time we go together. When my wife was alive, we would go with Sam and his female date for the evening. We’d all go out for drinks together usually, but we dropped Sam’s date off first, and then Sam. At home. Alone.” He heaved a deep breath before continuing, “Now that my wife is gone, Sam and I drop his date first and then go hang out together. But we both leave alone.” His brows drew together as he stared at her. “Understand?”
Maddie smiled slightly. “So you’re trying to tell me that he isn’t the man-whore he’s made out to be by the press?”
“I’m not saying he’s an angel, but he’s not the man most people think he is. I just happen to know about his sleeping arrangements because we go to functions together, though Simon usually avoids them whenever possible, which is most of the time.” Max pulled out his credit card and speared it into the leather enclosed bill that had been brought discreetly to the table by the waiter. He dropped it onto the edge of the table and looked her directly in the eye. “I’ve only met one of his lovers, and she was a petite redhead, completely unlike the female friends he takes to charity events and other functions, and that was a long time ago. Why do you think that might be?”
I haven’t been with a woman in months. I fucking couldn’t. Before that I only slept with women that had red hair, curvy bodies and who didn’t mind that I called out your name when I came. Women who only wanted money or material things because I had nothing else to give them.
Oh, God. Sam had been telling the truth. Tearing her eyes away from Max, she stared at the wall behind him. “Why? He could pick almost any single woman in the world and she would drop at his feet to be with him. Why?”
Max shrugged. “Being wealthy can be a curse as much as a blessing at times. Having money can make a man wonder if the woman really wants him, or just the money and power. Unfortunately, in our circles, most women care more about the money than the man,” he said, his tone slightly bitter. “Don’t get me wrong, Sam and I both like the money and the power, we thrive on it. But it does have its disadvantages in the relationship department.”
