by Joanna Shupe
She bit her lip. He had awoken her with his mouth between her legs, and she found her release twice before he finally crawled over her body and entered her. “I’ll still miss you.”
“I wish I could go now, but the takeover . . .”
He’d been consumed by Archer Industries since replacing his brother as president. And she understood his desire to achieve, perhaps better than most. Harrison wanted to prove to the world that he was capable, not the layabout second son as his family had claimed. “I know. You’ll be there for the games, and that’s all that matters.”
“I wouldn’t miss them,” he said, and swept a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’ll be the proudest man there, cheering you on from the gallery.”
“I might lose. It depends on the seeding and who I play in the first round.”
“Sweetheart, losing is for people who never try. You’ve made it this far, which is remarkable in itself, and I know you’ll play your heart out.”
She exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”
“Good.” He kissed her nose and let her go. “I need to go downtown, so cable when you’re safe at the hotel.”
“I will.” He’d already instructed her to do this today. Twice.
“And do not leave Vallie’s side at the club.”
Again, she’d already promised this. “I won’t. You don’t need to worry so much, Harrison. These events are completely safe.”
A strange look passed over his face before he said, “You are the most important thing in my life, Madeline Jane Archer. Do not take your safety lightly.”
“The same goes for you, Harrison Archer. Be careful.”
“I will.” He shot her a grin. “I love you, Mads.”
She froze, her brain shutting off like a light switch as she struggled to comprehend what he’d said so casually. He . . . loved her. Hadn’t she just been wondering over his feelings? And now he’d tossed the words out like he’d said them a hundred times. Like they weren’t a surprise.
Like they wouldn’t send her reeling.
Her mouth fell open, her tongue thick, and the moment stretched. The happiness in his bright blue gaze dimmed as he studied her face, and finally he straightened his shoulders. “Travel safely,” he said, his voice rough, like pebbles were caught in his throat. Then he disappeared into the corridor, shutting the door behind him.
Oh, God. Pressing a fist to her chest, she realized she’d hurt him. He had clearly wanted her to return the sentiment . . . and she’d stood there like a dolt, gaping at him.
But he’d caught her unawares. She hadn’t expected him to throw out those three important words as he was leaving her room. Shouldn’t there have been a buildup or a warning, at least? A chance for her to compose a reply?
And what would you have said in return?
Did she love him?
Certainly, he was all she could think about, even while playing tennis. She never wanted to leave his side, desperate for his smiles and his laughter—not to mention his touch. Of course, their marriage had been an adjustment. During his three-year absence, she’d carved a perfect life for herself, one she’d planned carefully. Then he’d returned and upended everything, shifting her priorities and rearranging her future.
Yet, she was happy. Happier than she’d ever imagined, in fact.
There was no better man, no better match for her. They were like caviar and champagne, or oysters and a wedge of lemon. A tennis racket and strings. One complemented the other, making each significantly improved.
Was that love?
Yes, she believed it was.
Recalling the hurt on his face sent a spear of regret through her chest. She hated that he’d left, assuming the worst because she hadn’t immediately repeated the words back. The urge to tell him now, before he departed, galvanized her toward the door.
She hurried downstairs, lifting her skirts to avoid tripping. From a distance she heard the front door close, so she flew down the main stairs to catch him.
In the entryway, she found her parents removing their gloves and hats. “Hello, Mama, Daddy. I didn’t know you were coming back today.”
“I had a few errands to run before we joined you in Philadelphia—Madeline!” her mother exclaimed as Maddie pushed by to open the front door. “Wherever are you going?”
“I wanted to catch Harrison before he left.” She stared out onto the street, but the only vehicle in sight was the hack carrying her parents’ luggage from the train.
“You’ve just missed him,” her father said. “He was pulling out as we pulled in.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders deflated in disappointment as she came back inside.
“Send him a cable, if it’s so important,” Mama said, smoothing her hair in the hall mirror. “There’s no reason to give yourself wrinkles over it.”
“It’s fine. I’ll tell him when I see him in Philadelphia.” She took her father’s arm and began dragging him to the sitting room. “Now, please. Both of you come sit with me and catch up before I leave in a few hours.”
Six lawn tennis courts were outlined inside the Philadelphia Cricket Club, and each would hold three matches over the course of the first day. This morning, spectators were dispersed among the various courts to observe matches already in progress. Harrison had studied the schedule, discovering that Maddie’s first match was in the second half of first-round matches, which should get under way in thirty minutes.
Exhausted, he slipped his hands in his trouser pockets and stared unseeingly out at the crowd. He hadn’t slept well in four nights, not since Maddie left.
I love you, Mads.
Why had he said it? He knew she didn’t feel the same, yet the words had slipped out of his mouth. And the horrified expression she wore upon hearing the declaration was now stuck in his brain forever.
She doesn’t love you. How could she?
He’d pressured her into this marriage, maneuvered the pieces on the board until he got what he wanted. But marriage to Maddie without love was a lonely, heart-wrenching endeavor, one he hadn’t exactly thought through when putting these wheels into motion. The reality of loving a woman who didn’t love him back—again—hadn’t occurred until it smacked him in the face.
Not that he would let her go.
Patience, he reminded himself. Perhaps in time she would come to care for him a fraction of what he felt for her. And that would be enough.
It had to be.
A hand clapped his shoulder, startling him.
“There you are.” Preston stood beside him. “Thought I’d see you at the hotel last night.”
Socializing hadn’t occurred to Harrison. He’d brooded in his room with a bottle of bourbon. “Didn’t you bring Arabella?” Preston had said earlier he was bringing his mistress on the trip. “I assumed you’d be busy.”
“Yes, but I do come up for air every few hours or so, you know. We could’ve had a drink together.”
“Maybe tonight.”
“I’d like that. You look terrible, by the way.”
There went his hope not to draw attention to his mood. “I’m fine.”
“Are you worried about your lawn tennis champion? I’ve been watching the matches today and I think she’ll do just fine.”
“No, I’m not worried about that.”
“But you’re worried about something else.”
Harrison sighed. Preston was like a dog with a bone when he sensed a problem. “It’s nothing.”
“I’ll get it out of you sooner or later, you know. You might as well tell me now.”
This conversation was not one that Harrison wanted to have here, at the tennis tournament. “Tonight, all right? We’ll talk tonight.”
“Fair enough. Let’s go get a good spot over at her court.”
The current match on Maddie’s court was nearly over, so they waited until the crowd began to shift before finding a spot at the edge of the netting right up front. He was surprised at the large number o
f people there to watch the matches. Harrison hadn’t been to a tennis tournament of this size before; Maddie had started competing on this level only after he left for Paris. It seemed daunting, all these strangers observing and commenting as one played. Was she nervous? Would the attention bother her?
He doubted it. She was the bravest, most competitive person he knew. And she had already won several smaller tournaments this year, so she must be used to a public setting like this. He meant what he had said on the card. Regardless of how she played, he was damn proud of her.
Movement near the clubhouse caught Harrison’s attention . . . and his body tightened when his wife emerged. The entire world paused and his vision tunneled to just her.
“You get that look on your face every time you see her,” Preston said, amusement lacing his words. “You poor bastard.”
“Fuck off,” Harrison muttered—and the stranger next to him gasped before edging away, horrified.
“Nice fucking manners, Archer,” Preston murmured.
“It’s your fucking fault,” Harrison shot back, a smile tugging at his lips while his gaze remained locked on Maddie. He and his friends hadn’t ever played by the rules of polite society, so no use pretending now.
Maddie and Valentine Livingston descended the stairs, followed by another woman holding a racket and an older man. Maddie’s expression was calm and resolute as she listened to whatever her coach was telling her. Last-minute advice of some kind, no doubt. Farther behind lingered two men, the guards Harrison had hired, following Maddie discreetly, keeping her safe.
“I told you they were good,” Preston said, tilting his chin toward the guards. “She’ll have no idea they’re even here.”
Excellent. Harrison was having his brother watched, as well, and he’d been informed that Thomas was still in New York. Hiring guards for Maddie might prove unnecessary, but Harrison wouldn’t relax until the tournament ended.
He watched her stride smoothly toward the court and soaked in every bit of her appearance, from the cap to keep the sun out of her eyes, to her white shirtwaist and skirt. There was purpose and confidence in her gait. She was here to win, no doubt about it.
The players readied themselves and the judge climbed into the high chair. The two guards edged to the front of the opposite side of the court, well within reach of Maddie. Vallie walked over to their side, so Harrison lowered the netting for him to climb over.
Vallie straightened and shook Harrison’s hand. “Good to see you, Archer. Fine day for tennis, isn’t it?”
“Indeed, it is.” He introduced Preston, then asked Vallie, “Think she’ll win?”
The other man smirked. “Of course I do.”
“How are you so calm?”
“Because I am her coach, not her husband. Don’t worry, Archer. Your wife plays better than any woman I’ve encountered. She’s aggressive and hits hard. You’ll see.”
The judge announced the players, and the crowd applauded. Hearing the words “Madeline Webster Archer” made Harrison grin, despite his morose mood. She’s mine. No matter what else happens, she’s mine.
After a quick warm-up, the match started. Soon, Harrison understood what Vallie meant about Maddie’s style of play. The other woman lobbed the ball, hitting mostly up, like badminton, instead of forward, which slowed the game down. Maddie hit only forward, with spin and accuracy, the way she always did, her feet moving quickly. Her opponent couldn’t keep pace.
The crowd clapped and cheered as she continued to dominate. If Maddie heard the surrounding noise, she gave no indication of it. Her focus was entirely on the game and her opponent. She hadn’t even looked in Harrison’s direction.
In the end, Maddie won it handily in two sets, 6–1 and 6–2. Harrison clapped loudly while Preston put his fingers in his mouth and whistled.
Vallie nudged him on the shoulder. “See what I mean?”
“I never noticed it before.”
“Because you’re used to the way she plays.”
True. “Do the other women here play the same way?”
“One or two. She’ll meet them in the later rounds.”
Maddie came rushing over and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Oh, my goodness. I won!”
He buried his face in her hair, relieved to be holding her again. “Of course you did, sweetheart. Congratulations.”
She stepped over to speak to Vallie, and Preston quickly congratulated her as well. Harrison had never seen her look happier. “I can’t believe it. That was so easy,” she said.
“They won’t all be that easy,” Vallie said. “But enjoy your victory tonight. You were outstanding.”
“We’ll go to dinner to celebrate,” Harrison said. “All of us.”
“I already have plans,” Vallie said. “But thank you for the offer. Just make certain she’s in bed at a reasonable hour, Archer.”
“Valentine!” Maddie’s cheeks grew more flushed than when she was playing.
“I will,” Harrison said and kissed her hand. “Don’t worry.”
Vallie hopped over the netting once more and onto the court. “I’ll take her back to the clubhouse, and then go observe some of the other matches. I want to see the competition.”
Harrison nodded and told Maddie, “I’ll wait for you by the door.”
Maddie and her coach departed for the clubhouse, where Maddie would change and store her equipment. The guards followed at a reasonable distance and Harrison exhaled in relief.
The crowd had now dispersed, and Maddie’s mother and father soon found them.
“Hello, Mrs. Webster, Mr. Webster,” Harrison said, pumping the older man’s hand. “She was outstanding today, wasn’t she?”
“Best she has ever played,” her father said, a broad smile overtaking his face.
Even Maddie’s mother looked pleased from under the shade of her parasol. “I cannot understand the appeal of the sport, but she certainly seemed in command of the game.”
“Match, dear,” Mr. Webster said, patting his wife’s hand. “Game, set, match.”
“We’re taking her out tonight to celebrate,” Harrison said to the Websters as they started for the clubhouse. “I hope you’ll both join us.”
“We’d like that,” Mr. Webster said. “It’ll be nice to see how you and our daughter are settling into marriage.”
The undercurrent was not lost on Harrison. They were still unhappy over the circumstances of their daughter’s marriage, not that Harrison could blame them. Compromising her and forcing a marriage hadn’t been his intention, either. However, once they saw him and Maddie together, he knew they would come around.
They all strolled toward the clubhouse. A large crowd was gathered out front, so their group waited in the back, off to the side. He relaxed, knowing he would spot her as soon as she came outside.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Maddie’s heart continued to race long after she changed out of her tennis clothes and into an afternoon dress. Playing in a tournament was exhilarating—and winning was even better.
After her maid, Siobhan, helped her dress, she chatted a few minutes with Vallie. Then a reporter asked for a few moments of her time to comment on the match, so Vallie left to watch the other players. When the interview ended, Maddie and Siobhan went outside.
A crowd of people loitered in the shade directly in the front of the clubhouse. She twisted and turned, sliding between bodies to get through, accepting congratulations on her win as she went. She didn’t stop to chat, however. Harrison, Preston and her parents were here somewhere, and hopefully they hadn’t gone far.
She’d loved having Harrison at the match. He’d cheered the loudest, his whistles deafening. She had played hard, wanting to make him proud. A fluttering began in her chest, the burning need to tell him of her feelings.
Soon. They’d be alone in the hotel soon and she would tell him.
As she pushed through a large cluster of spectators, strong fingers pinched the skin of her hip, a
lmost on her bottom. She gasped, surprised. That was no accident. Rather, it had been an intentional grope.
Her head whipped around, searching for the man responsible. He stood there, a few feet away, giving her a slick smile. A black wool suit hung loose on his frame, his collar soaked with sweat. A sense of wrongness came over her like an icy wind. She shivered with the need to get away, to put distance between herself and this stranger.
Unfortunately, with people all around her, she couldn’t quickly step back as the man drew closer. She lifted her chin and pulled one of her hat pins from her hair. “Do not come any closer.”
As if he didn’t hear her, the man leaned in, using his size to intimidate her. “There’s no need for that.” He pointed to the hat pin in her hand and chuckled. “All I want is to see you smile, pretty lady.”
Alarm bells were ringing in her head. She tried to slip through the people standing behind her, but met only with resistance. “I don’t feel like smiling right now—and you need to move back.”
He reached out to touch her again, this stranger who thought he could take liberties with her person. She didn’t wait for rescue. Instead, she shoved the hat pin into his stomach. Hard.
Yelping, he doubled over, his hands covering where she’d stabbed him. People in the vicinity stopped talking, their gazes curious as they formed a wide circle around her and the other man. Siobhan arrived alongside, her eyes wide with concern. “Are you all right, madam?”
“I’m fine,” Maddie said, watching the man who’d pinched her. She didn’t trust him not to run off and escape, where he’d likely grope another young woman in the crowd.
Suddenly, there were shouts and the crowd instantly parted. Two men she’d never seen before each took one of her elbows and practically lifted her off the ground, towing her back the way she came. “Stop! Let me go!” She struggled in their grip, but it did no good. “Help! I am being kidnapped.”
“Please, Mrs. Archer,” one of them said. “You’re safe now.”
Safe? She was being dragged against her will by two large men she’d never met. “Help me!” She kept trying to twist away, to escape their strong hands, but it was no use. They didn’t release her until they were in one of the small rooms inside the clubhouse.