A Very Merry Romance (Madaris Series Book 21)

by Brenda Jackson

  The past month had given him plenty of time to concentrate on just what he wanted. As crazy as it might seem to some, he could envision spending his life with her, raising a family. He could even see them getting old together, sharing a friendship that he intended to start tonight. It would be a lot for her to take in, but he would give her time. He wasn’t going anywhere. He would win her over, no matter how long it took.

  “Miss Bannister, it’s good to see you,” he said. What he didn’t say was that he’d known she would be attending, since he’d taken the time to verify her RSVP with Senator Jordan’s secretary. If the woman had thought his inquiry odd, she hadn’t said anything.

  “Mr. Madaris, it’s nice to see you again as well.”

  “Jonathan.”

  She peered up at him, questioning. “Excuse me?”

  He smiled. “You can dispense with calling me Mr. Madaris, since you are no longer my employee. And I hope you don’t mind me calling you Marilyn.” Jonathan felt it was important to get that out now, so there wouldn’t be any misunderstanding later.

  “Okay.” Then she paused a moment and said, “Jonathan.”

  Finally, he heard his name from those lips in such a smooth tone that it reverberated through him like a gentle caress. He had dreamed about the moment when she would say it. The sound stirred the insides of his stomach in a blatantly sensuous way.

  Thoughts of other times she would use his given name and the ways she would say it flashed an edge of anticipation through his loins. Just standing in front of her filled him with both heat and desire.

  He’d known the moment she had arrived. The second she’d walked through that door, his most primal reaction had kicked in with a vengeance. She looked absolutely stunning in her golden pantsuit and heels. As always, her hair was neatly trimmed and she wore hoop earrings. She had on just the right amount of makeup and her lips were tinted with a shade of coral. But it was her perfume that he’d missed the most, how the scent would linger in his office after she left.

  He hadn’t wanted to pounce on her the minute she’d arrived, so he had stood in the background and watched other men approach her, while he’d fought to hold his own jealousy in check. But even from a distance, he’d read the annoyance on her face, as each man had left. That made him feel a bit better. Only he had no intention of letting her get away as easily as she had with the other men, even though it seemed as if she’d already dismissed him by turning back to the table. But Jonathan had news for her. He intended to be around her for the rest of the night. And for the rest of her life, if she let him.

  “So, Marilyn, I understand you’re doing great things at Cullers.”

  * * * *

  Marilyn had often wondered how her name would sound coming from Jonathan Madaris’ lips. Now she knew and his voice created something akin to fissions of fire rushing up her spine. That wasn’t good. And he was looking down at her with deep, dark eyes, warming her entire body with his regard. That wasn’t good, either.

  “Things are going well,” she said, breaking eye contact with him to glance at the spread of food again. She could only look into his eyes for a short while or else she’d start drooling.

  She wasn’t surprised he’d asked about the project she’d been assigned. After all, it had been his idea. She figured he’d only asked to be polite, since she was certain he knew very well how it was going. However, since he was still there beside her at the buffet table and didn’t seem to be going anywhere, she guessed he must want specifics.

  She continued to move down the line while she told him about the advances she’d made and the things she hadn’t yet been able to do. His closeness didn’t bother her, not the way the overbearing proximity of the three previous men had. They’d seemed determined to force their dominance into her space; however, there didn’t seem to be anything forced about Jonathan Madaris’ presence at her side. It actually seemed natural for them to be standing next to each other, and she found that odd.

  “How are things at Parkwood?” she asked when she’d finished telling him about Cullers.

  “Let’s stand over there, so as not to block other people from getting their food,” he suggested, using his head to indicate an area of the large room that could provide them some semblance of privacy.

  “Oh. Okay,” she said and followed him as he led the way.

  When they had their own little corner of the room, he said, “Here we go,” and placed his plate on the high-top table, then took hers and placed it beside his. Why did that seem so intimate?

  “Now, to answer your question,” he said. “Things are going well. Your presence, of course, is missed by all.”

  Marilyn knew he was just being kind. She hadn’t been at Parkwood long enough for anyone to care one way or the other about her being gone.

  “That’s a nice thing to say,” she said.

  “I’m a nice person, Marilyn,” he said, smiling at her.

  The words alone, spoken in a deep, husky tone were powerful enough to set off a rippling motion in the pit of her stomach. But the masculine smile that curved his lips sealed the deal. Suddenly, she could barely breathe.

  Marilyn had seen him smile before but there was something about this one that made certain parts of her body sizzle. She didn’t know how to respond to his comment, so she bit into a vanilla cupcake she’d grabbed off the dessert table. He was probably just being polite. She had no reason to think otherwise.

  “Tell me about yourself, Marilyn.” His lips curved in another smile and rippling motions started in her stomach again. “Do you have any family around here?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No. My family lives in San Antonio. There are a lot of us. My father has three brothers, so I have more cousins than I can count. My parents had three children. Two sons and a daughter. I’m the youngest.”

  “Umm, so you’re the baby in the family.”

  She couldn’t help but chuckle after popping a SweeTart into her mouth. At the moment, she didn’t feel much like a baby. Lately, she’d felt like a marriage counselor, a temporary financial provider, and a big sister, instead of the youngest child. “I guess you could call me that.”

  “What’s the difference in ages between you and your brothers?” he asked, popping a SweeTart into his mouth, as well. She tried not to focus on the shape of his lips as he chewed.

  Marilyn figured he was merely biding his time with small talk while they, and everyone else, waited for Barbara to give her speech. That was fine. She didn’t mind his company. At least he wasn’t bragging about his degrees or complaining about his job. Jonathan Madaris was considerate enough to focus the conversation on her, whether he was truly interested or not. He was definitely a nice person.

  “My oldest brother, Stuart Jr., is four years older than me. He’s a policeman. My brother Roland is only two years older. He’s currently in Atlanta attending medical school at Morehouse, studying to become a heart surgeon.”

  He nodded and popped a chocolate into his mouth this time. She watched him, finding the gesture sexy. Sexy? Since when did she find a man feeding his face to be sexy?

  “I’ve visited Atlanta a few times,” he said, breaking into her thoughts.

  “Have you?” she asked, before taking another bite of her cupcake.

  “Yes. I have a few relatives living there on my mother’s side of the family. The Lees. You ever heard of Naomi Lee?”

  “The gospel singer?”

  “Yes. She’s my mother’s first cousin.”

  “Wow, that’s cool. There aren’t any important people in my family.”

  “You’re important.”

  His words warmed her insides. The man was so full of compliments. “Thanks, but you’ll never convince my brothers of that.”

  “Sibling rivalry?”

  “Not so much. They just think their baby sister has a habit of getting into their business more than she should.”

  He chuckled and the sound was rich. Peering at her intently, he said, “Maybe I
should suggest to Mrs. Chapman that she find you more work, so you’ll be too busy to get into your brothers’ affairs.”

  She smiled. “I wish it could be that easy. Start Jr. is going through a divorce right now. His wife and I are friends, but he expects me to be on his side. I tried explaining it doesn’t work that way. At least, not for me. Once a friend, always a friend. Besides, as far as I’m concerned, she should have divorced him long ago. In fact, she should never have married him.”

  “You’re a tough sister,” he said.

  “One who knows her brother.” Too late, Marilyn wondered if she’d aired too much of her family’s dirty laundry.

  “And your gray eyes? Does anyone else in the family have them?”

  She’d been asked about the color of her eyes a number of times. The hue was not common among Black Americans. “Everybody. It’s from my father’s side of the family. We don’t know where it came from, but every Bannister is born with grey eyes. My father, my brothers and all my cousins have them, too.”

  “And your parents are in good health?” he asked her.

  She looked over at him. There was no need to tell him about her father being at home on disability leave. He didn’t know her parents and her parents didn’t know him. “Pretty much. What about yours?”

  “My father passed away a few years ago.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Thanks. His death was hard on all of us, but we knew he would have wanted us to move on. My mother and four of my older brothers are running things at our family ranch, which isn’t too far from here. The ranch was my father’s life.”

  Marilyn thought there was no need to tell him she’d heard about his ranch. She didn’t want him knowing he’d been discussed. She’d heard about his family from Carolyn, but wanted to hear it from him. Besides, she liked hearing him talk. There was a huskiness in his voice that was both smooth and strong. And he articulated his words perfectly, even with his deep Texas drawl. “Is it a big ranch?” she asked, taking a sip of punch.

  “Yes. Whispering Pines is the biggest ranch in the state of Texas.”

  He then proceeded to tell her about it, how his family had settled on the land generations ago after acquiring a ten-thousand-acre Mexican land grant. His great-grandfather, who was half Mexican and half Black American, settled on the land with his wife to raise cattle. They’d named the spread Whispering Pines.

  He told her about the time the state of Texas had tried to take the land from them, because it had been a Mexican land grant instead of an American one, and how his family had taken the matter all the way to the Supreme Court, who’d ruled in his family’s favor.

  “So, you have six brothers and no sisters?”

  He shook his head grinning. “Yes, all boys. I think Mom was hoping my baby brother Jake would be a girl, but she got another son. We still tease him about it.”

  He then spoke of his brothers; telling her how close they were to each other and how for the longest time, before his brothers married, the only woman in the household had been his mother.

  When Senator Jordan’s campaign manager came to stand in the middle of the room, everyone grew quiet as the Senator was introduced. Jonathan stood beside Marilyn and listened to Barbara Jordan speak, firing up the crowd and motivating everyone to take part in her election campaign.

  “She gave a stirring speech,” Marilyn said to Jonathan after Senator Jordan had finished speaking. She had expected him to excuse himself after the speech was over.

  “Yes, she did,” he said. “She’s awesome. There shouldn’t be any doubt about the importance of sending her to Washington.”

  “Excuse me, Miss Bannister.” One of the Senator’s aids came to stand beside her. “Are you ready for me to call you a cab?”

  “Yes, Mona. Thanks.”

  When the woman walked off, Jonathan turned and looked at her, an odd expression on his face. “You haven’t got your car fixed, yet?”

  Now she was sure she was the one who looked perplexed. “What makes you think I own a car?”

  “I noticed that you’d come in with Carolyn Perkins that first month and figured the two of you had to be carpooling. But when you were still riding with Ms. Perkins weeks later, I could only assume something was wrong with your car.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t own a car. Carolyn was kind enough to offer me a ride to work each day.”

  “And how had you planned to get to work?”

  “I assumed I’d walk.”

  He lifted a brow. “Walk?”

  “Yes. When I got the teaching job at Parkwood, I was lucky enough to find an apartment just a block away from the school.”

  He frowned in a way that made his mouth tighten. “But it’s not safe for you to be walking. I’m afraid I don’t understand why you would have to do that, when you’re being paid a good salary.”

  His words stung. Without even knowing her situation, he’d judged her as being wasteful with her money, or even worse, making it seem as if she had her priorities screwed up. Who did he think he was? It wasn’t any of his business what she did with her money. He had no idea that she was sending more than half of her check home to her parents. Not that he needed to know.

  On more than one occasion, she’d seen him leave for an off-site meeting in that sporty red Mustang he drove. Good for him. If she hadn’t had to help out her parents, she probably would have rewarded herself by using her first paycheck to put a down payment on her dream car, a blue Chevrolet Camaro. Even a used one would have been fine. But she couldn’t. And she didn’t owe this man an explanation as to why not.

  Sitting her glass of punch on the table she glared up at him. “The reason I don’t own a car isn’t any of your business, Mr. Madaris. Now if you will excuse me, I need to wait outside for my cab.”

  Then she walked way without another word.

  8

  Jonathan immediately realized that he’d somehow offended Marilyn. Rubbing his hand down his face, he drew in a deep breath. “Good going, Madaris,” he muttered as he glanced across the room and saw Marilyn disappear through the set of double doors after giving Senator Jordan a hug. He quickly moved in that direction.

  One day, he would learn not to assume so much. But he’d just figured that most people with good jobs had a way to get to that job. There had to be a reason why she didn’t own a vehicle. For all he knew, she might not be able to drive, although he couldn’t imagine that was the reason. Regardless, he’d had no right to question her about it.

  But she’d been wrong about it not being any of his business. Anything involving her was his business, whether she knew it or not. But he would admit to making one major mistake. In his plan to make her a part of his life, he’d assumed that moving her to another school so they could get together was in the best interests of both of them. But now, he could clearly see his actions had caused a major inconvenience for her. How was she getting to Cullers, which was located all the way across town, without a car? Was she catching a cab every day? Riding the bus? Carpooling again? One thing he was certain of--she definitely wasn’t walking.

  Stepping out the set of double doors, he glanced around and saw her. Marilyn’s back was to him as she stood in a lighted area waiting for the cab that had been called for her. He paused a moment to stare at the beautiful woman he intended to marry one day.

  Should he come clean and tell her the truth, even though it might make the situation worse? He knew that was not the answer, at least, not now. It was important that they get to know each other first, that she learned to love him as much as he loved her, before telling her the entire story. For now, somehow he had to help her and hoped that she’d accept that help. But first, he had to be honest about one thing.

  “Marilyn?” Jonathan watched her shoulders stiffen when she realized he’d come after her. “I’m sorry if I upset you. My only excuse is that I was concerned.”

  She turned to face him and he saw the anger still lining her lips. “Concerned? Why? I
worked for you for two months and not once was I late to school. And if you were to check with Mrs. Chapman, she would tell you that I’ve made it to work on time every day at Cullers, as well. There is no reason for your concern.”

  If you only knew, he thought. “I can’t help it.”

  “Why?”

  Drawing in a deep breath, he said, “I have an overprotective streak when it comes to females under my care.”

  That much was true and could be proven. If she’d read the faculty rules that were given to all his teachers on the first day, she’d remember that there was one that stipulated that whenever there was an evening function at Parkwood, it was up to the male teachers to make sure the females got to their cars safely.

  “But I’m no longer under your care, Mr. Madaris.”

  If she thought she could return to calling him Mr. Madaris, then she was wrong. “It’s Jonathan, remember. And yes, maybe you’re not under my care now, but you were for two months. And during that time, I wasn’t aware of your lack of transportation.”

  Angling her head, she stared up at him. “I didn’t mention it because I didn’t think it was a big deal. I still don’t. Not everyone in Houston owns a car.”

  “Can you drive?”

  She looked at him as if she couldn’t believe he’d ask such a thing. “Of course, I can drive. However, a car isn’t a priority for me at the moment.”

  Jonathan couldn’t help wondering why not. It clearly should be. “Sorry, if I seem anxious about it, but I can’t help but remember my aunt Victoria, and what happened to her,” he said.

  “Your aunt Victoria?”

  “Yes, she was my father’s only sister and my mom’s best friend. She and my mother met at one of those church camps one summer when they were teens and became the best of friends. Aunt Victoria is the one who introduced her brother Milton to my mother.”

  He paused a minute, then continued. “One day she took her car in for some maintenance, but the mechanic needed to keep it overnight. Instead of mentioning it to my dad, she decided to catch the bus. She saw it a minor inconvenience, and nothing more. She worked as a nurse at the hospital and had irregular hours. Early one morning, on her way to work, she was robbed and killed on the way to the bus stop.”