“An artist’s stand, five letters?” Wyatt asked.
“Easel,” Madison said and spelled it for him.
“Yeah,” Wyatt said and grinned at Madison. “You’re real good at this.”
“I love words,” she said and watched as Wyatt carefully wrote the word on the puzzle.
Steven looked away from the woman and the child when he felt a strange twinge of irritation that Madison fit in with Wyatt so easily. It bothered him more than he could comprehend. Wyatt had been so young when Jeannie died that he didn’t know if the boy missed his mother or if he simply missed having a mother.
Steven realized that he had been lacking something, too. Maybe it was family, that sense of unity. Or maybe it was the lack of someone to share Wyatt with. Madison laughed softly at something Wyatt said, and Steven thought maybe he’d been missing sharing the darkness, too, those small hours in the night when having someone lying by you helped to push back the loneliness.
He stopped that thought quickly and put his mug on the side table by the couch as he stood. “I think it’s time for bed, Wyatt.”
Wyatt glanced up at him. “But, Dad, Madison and me almost got this puzzle finished. Just fifteen more minutes?”
“Finish it in the morning.”
Wyatt turned to Madison and, as if she really were his stepmother, pleaded with her. “Please, can’t I stay up just a while longer, Madison?”
She scrambled to her feet and, as she swiped at her clothes, she shook her head. “Sorry, sport, but your father’s right. It’s late. It’s been a long day, and I’m tired myself.”
Remarkably, Wyatt didn’t argue. He didn’t get that whine in his voice and plead some more. Instead, he closed the book, then got up. “Okay. We’ll finish it tomorrow,” he said to Madison, then looked at Darla. “Good night, and thanks for the room. It’s awesome.”
“Tomorrow we’ll get you some ski things and we’ll go to the lifts,” Darla said as she stood.
“Okay,” Wyatt said.
“You all have a good night’s sleep,” Darla said, “and we’ll see you in the morning to go shopping.” She looked at Harvey. “Coming, darling?”
“Right with you,” Harvey said.
Steven had hoped that Madison would stay downstairs for a while to talk with Darla and Harvey, but he found the three of them heading upstairs while Harvey and Darla closed up the house for the night.
The three of them stopped by the door to Madison and Steven’s suite on the far right end of the balcony by the stairs. Wyatt’s room was on the opposite end, near Harvey and Darla’s room. Wyatt grabbed Steven’s arm to get his attention and motioned to him to lean down. “Dad, it’s going good, isn’t it?” he asked in a low voice.
Steven nodded. “So far.”
“Yeah, and it’s neat,” he whispered. “Aunt Darla’s real nice and we’re going skiing. It all worked out, after all, didn’t it?”
“Sure,” he said.
He looked past Steven at Madison. “I’m sorry to butt in like this, since Dad’s working and all, but it’s going to be okay.”
“I’m sure it will be,” she murmured.
“And you aren’t mad at my dad or me?”
“I’m not mad.”
“Whew, good. I was scared you’d be real mad.”
“It’s okay.”
“Can I ask you something, Madison?”
Steven felt her move, brushing against his arm, then she was by his side as she spoke to his son. “Sure, what is it, sport?”
“You’re real pretty. So why do you need to pay someone to like you?”
Steven looked from Wyatt to Madison and didn’t know how she was going to react. When she crouched down to get at eye level with Wyatt, Steven realized what an exceptional woman she was. “I’m paying your dad to be here with me so it makes the Kincaids happy. I’m not paying him to like me.”
“I see.”
“It’s a business arrangement.”
“What’s your business?”
“I’m on the radio.”
Wyatt’s eyes widened. “You’re like a deejay or something?” he whispered.
She laughed softly at that, a pleasant sound that played havoc with Steven’s nerves. “No, I’ve got a talk show. You probably haven’t heard of it, but my show’s called Ask Dr. Love.”
Steven could see Wyatt’s mouth drop. “You...you’re Dr. Love?”
“You’ve heard about me?”
He blinked at her. “Oh, yeah, sure. I’ve heard. You’re real smart and give lots of people help.”
“I try,” she murmured.
“Wow, I didn’t think anyone Dad was...was working for would be like...like a celebrity.”
“I’m a doctor, and I just needed to make the Kincaids happy, so I went to Harrington’s for help. And I think we’re doing a fine job. Don’t you?”
“Yeah, we sure are,” he said. “Can you ski?”
“Sure I can. I grew up in the snow in Vermont. I love to ski.”
“Great. We’ll ski tomorrow. Aunt Darla says the snow’s going to be just right to learn on, all soft and powdery.”
“It sounds great. Now it’s bedtime. Do you need to be tucked in?”
Wyatt scrunched his face up. “No way.” He narrowed his eyes on Madison. “Dr. Love,” he murmured, then spun away and started down the hall toward his room. “Good night, you two.”
Steven turned and heard Wyatt close his door as he reached to open the door of their suite. As he pushed back the barrier, he knew that he’d barely glanced at the room earlier when he’d brought up the bags. But now he took in the huge suite that looked like another living room, with a fireplace of stones straight ahead filled with a crackling fire, a wall of windows to the left that had a fantastic view of the lake. And a couch and chairs to the right positioned to share the warmth of the fire with the view. Double doors by the couch stood open, and showed a huge poster bed in the next room.
He turned as Madison followed him into the room and he found himself facing her. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need to see the deep blue of her eyes, or the way her bottom lip seemed so soft and sensual. No, he didn’t need that at all, not when they had to share this space for at least one night.
“I think you owe me an explanation,” she said.
He could see the lift of her chin and the way light color touched her cheeks. Despite the fact she’d fallen in so neatly with the upset of Wyatt appearing, she’d been acting. Right now she was mad. “I’m sorry that Wyatt showed up like that.”
“You’ve got a son, and he shows up here out of the blue. He could have ruined everything.”
“But he didn’t. And he won’t.”
“You’re just lucky he’s so bright...or so devious,” she muttered.
“Probably a bit of both. He thinks he’s helping. That’s why he brought the briefcase. He’s trying to get involved in my work, and he wanted to see the snow and ski. It was just too much for him to resist.”
“And that mountain of a man that drove him here?”
“My housekeeper, Bishop.”
“If he’s a housekeeper, then I’m Santa Claus,” she muttered.
“You’re no Santa, but he’s a great housekeeper. And he’s gone, so he’s not a problem.”
“He’s gone for now, but is he going to come back with another kid or with Wyatt’s mother?”
“Wyatt’s mother died eight years ago,” he said. The statement that had never been easy before came to him simply. There were no edges, just the fact, and it took him back a bit to realize that the past was the past. The pain and problems were the past.
Steven saw a flash of movement in the hallway. He hadn’t thought to close the door when he’d faced Madison. She’d taken up every space of consciousness for him. But right now someone was heading toward them and it wasn’t Wyatt. He would be running and talking as he came to them.
When Madison looked as if she was going to say something else, he did the only thing he could think of to
stop her. He reached to take her by her shoulders, then as shock dawned on her face, he pulled her to him. As her hands were pinned between them, she barely managed to utter, “What—?” against his chest before he had his fingers tangled in her hair and his lips by her ear.
“Someone’s watching us from the hallway,” he whispered.
He felt her take a sharp breath, then he eased her head back until she was looking up at him. He didn’t know what he expected from her, but it wasn’t this look deep in the blue depths of her eyes, a gaze that echoed his own feelings having her against him again.
When her hands spread on his chest, he was unnerved that her touch was as unsteady as he felt right then. He saw her lips part, felt each breath she took, and he told himself he was doing this to keep her quiet, to give the Kincaids what they expected to see. But when her tongue touched her lips, he knew there was no excuse for what he wanted more than anything. There was no excuse for wanting to taste her, to feel her against him. Unless that excuse was simply that he wanted to.
He framed her face with his hands, then slowly lowered his head to touch his lips to hers. If she’d stayed still, if she hadn’t moved, he might have stopped at that. But she sighed softly, then moved closer, and circled his neck with her arms. And the invitation in her actions was stunning.
The kiss was deep and searching, their audience lost in the blur of the need in him. He didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want to lose her taste or the feel of her against him. And he could almost let himself believe that she wanted this kiss as much as he did, that this wasn’t pretense. When she eased back and he looked down into her flushed face, he could almost believe that the need in her eyes was real.
“Oh, my, my,” he heard Darla gush from behind him. “What a pleasure to see two people so much in love.”
Steven didn’t move as the knowledge rocked him that the man who loved Madison was the luckiest man on earth. She was made to be loved, and it made him ache that he had no right to do what felt as simple as breathing to him—love her.
Madison slowly drew back to break the contact with Steven. She had kissed him to keep the story intact, to make the Kincaids happy, the objective she’d told Wyatt about. She’d kissed him so Kincaid wouldn’t do something rash with his accounts at the station. She held her breath as the truest statement of all came of its own volition.
She’d kissed him because she’d wanted to since the last time he’d kissed her. She kissed him because he was the only man who had ever been able to just look at her and make her heart lurch. The only man she’d ever seriously thought she could love.
Love? She closed her hands into fists and pushed them behind her back. Not love. Not that. Not with him, with a man paid to be here. No, it couldn’t be love, not with Steven York.
“Lovely, lovely,” Darla cooed. “I think I understand why you didn’t bring Wyatt with you when you came up here.”
Madison swallowed hard and forced herself to look at Darla. “Excuse me?”
“You and Steven wanted to get away, didn’t you? I’ve never been a parent, but I can see that being one can’t be easy.” She smiled more. “Although, with Wyatt, he’s so great. He’s smart and funny. You’re very lucky.” Her smile sobered a bit. “I know you’re Wyatt’s stepmother, but he surely is crazy about you. You certainly used your knowledge about people to win him over and make a family.”
Madison had never felt more like her knowledge of people was fatally flawed. She didn’t understand herself or this man so close to her, or his child. She was as bowled over by the son as she was with the father. And she wouldn’t begin to explain to herself why she felt regret that what Darla was seeing was all a sham.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Darla said. “We’re planning on going into town tomorrow to stock up on things. And we’re going to get a tree to bring back and decorate. We’ll leave around nine. Breakfast at eight.” She touched Madison on the arm. “And you and I shall have a long, long talk soon. There’s something I really want to discuss with you.” She patted her on the arm. “It’s such a treat to see people who take marriage seriously, people who care about each other. Just a treat,” she said as she slipped outside and closed the door softly behind her.
Madison turned away from Steven to cross to the windows and look out at the night. The mountains were dark, muffled hulks that ringed the lake, reflecting back the lights from the homes around the shoreline. And overlaying the night scene outside was the reflected image of the man behind her. He wasn’t distorted in the glass and it was almost as if she were looking right at him. When she met his gaze, the impact was as real as if she turned and faced him. And the sensation of being kissed by him came back to her so completely that she could almost taste him and feel his tongue brush hers.
She fought the urge to scrub her hand across her lips and finally managed to say, “You could have just hugged me or something like that.”
He came closer until he was right over her shoulder, his gaze holding hers in the reflection. “We gave Darla what she wanted. Isn’t that the idea?”
She turned and wished she hadn’t. He was less than a foot from her and seemed to be robbing all the air out of the area around them. “Yes, but—”
When he lightly touched the tip of her chin with one finger, she stopped breathing and her words cut off. “I was just doing my job,” he murmured.
“Stop,” she whispered.
His eyes searched her face, then settled on her lips and she braced herself. “I’ve been wondering what sort of man your husband is when he’d let you go away like this with another man who was pretending to be your husband.”
“It...it isn’t like that,” she said.
“Then what’s it like?”
She looked into his hazel eyes, and instead of doing what she knew she should, she slowly lifted one hand to touch his chest. She felt his heart under the tips of her fingers, and she felt a connection that she couldn’t begin to fathom start to forge between them. A bond that she’d never experienced with another person in her life. And it scared her.
When she tried to speak, no words came, and when she touched her tongue to her lips, she heard Steven mutter a rough oath. In the next heartbeat, she didn’t know if she went to him, or if he drew her to him. But she was in his arms and kissing him, the caress so deep and intense that she felt as if it was searing her soul.
With no thought of right or wrong, she circled his neck with her arms and arched toward him. He surrounded her and blocked out everything else when she found a space in the world that seemed made just for the two of them. A space untouched by logic or duty or reality. It was a space for giving way to feelings that were so strong they threatened to consume her.
His hands skimmed over her back, then pressed at the small of her back, bringing her hips against him. And she knew that the desire was not one-sided. She could feel his response to her, and that only drove her on. It fed her need, and when he lifted her into his arms, his lips never left hers. The hunger between them was a living, needful thing, and when she found herself with him on the couch warmed from the fire in the hearth, she wanted more.
Caught between Steven and the back of the couch, she awkwardly tried to undo the buttons on his shirt. But when frustration to feel his skin under her hands built, she tugged at the cotton. She pulled it free of his waistband and pushed it up until she could spread her hands on his chest. She felt the soft hair under her palms, the sleek heat of his skin and the thundering of his heart beating against her hands.
Then he shifted until he was over her, and she opened her eyes to look up into his eyes burning with a desire that echoed in hers. But he didn’t move. He wasn’t taking her. She blinked, her tongue tasting her lips, capturing his essence left there, and she whispered, “Please, Steven.”
His eyes studied her, dropping to her lips, and when she thought he was going to kiss her again, he finally moved. He pushed up and back and, in one movement, shifted to sit up, and she found herself on the cushions alon
e as he stood. She ached from her need, and she didn’t understand. He didn’t try to hide the evidence of his desire for her. He just stood over her, his ragged breathing echoing in the stillness all around them.
“Steven?” she whispered hoarsely.
“No.”
The world made no sense to her. “I don’t—”
“Your husband’s a fool for letting you come here,” he muttered in a rough voice. “And I’m an even bigger fool.”
She struggled to sit up. “My husband—”
“No, I won’t be part of that,” he said, turning from her and going to the windows. With his back to her, she could see his breathing was no more even than hers at the moment, but he’d shut her out as effectively as if he’d left the room. “That’s not part of my services, and it’s not for sale. I don’t care how mad you are at your husband, or how bad your marriage is, or why you’re doing this.”
She swallowed hard, her eyes smarting, but painfully dry. “I never thought that—”
“I wasn’t thinking, either,” he said as he turned back to her.
Had she thought she could love this man? How stupid she was sometimes. The love was already there, waiting. And if she let it materialize, she knew that she could destroy her world with it. The doctor was on the verge of doing the very thing she counseled others to run from doing. And she pushed it away.
He looked at her intently, then she heard him take a rough breath before he said, “I’ve done a lot of things I’m not very proud of in my life, but I won’t be anyone’s mistake.”
The only mistake was letting herself begin to believe in a man who was being paid to be with her. She stood, horrified that her legs felt like jelly, but they held her as she turned and headed for the bedroom. “It’s late,” she whispered.
“I’ll take the couch,” he said from behind her.
The Christmas Husband Page 16
