His Fantasy (HIS Series Book 8)

by Sheila Kell

  Considering it was dinnertime, he went into the kitchen and pulled a glass casserole dish from his refrigerator. Uncovering it, he was glad that last night Kate had sent him a pan of lasagna as a thank-you for making the trip to New York City for Jesse to settle things with a new client. A trip that put him back in the path of Madison Maxwell.

  With the oven warming, he searched his refrigerator for anything edible to go with the dish that he wasn’t sure she’d actually eat. Didn’t models eat nothing but salad? He couldn’t help her there. He’d been gone too long. He did have the bread Kate had also sent over, but didn’t models avoid white foods? Christ, how was he going to feed her? Granted, she could stand to gain a few pounds and still keep her model figure.

  He paused when he heard the shower start. Images of her wet and naked flashed through his mind. He groaned and adjusted his growing erection. Maybe having her stay here wasn’t such a good idea after all. He wanted her, yeah. She was gorgeous, and he begrudgingly admitted to himself, the more he got to know her, the more he liked her. Something about the woman drove him fucking insane, though.

  With the lasagna in the warm oven, he was at a loss of what to do so he stood in the kitchen. Normally he’d grab a beer and sit and watch SportsCenter, but he wasn’t alone now and didn’t want to exclude her from the evening. Hell, he’d at least do it until she came out of the bedroom.

  Settled on his worn, leather couch, he turned on the television and found the channel he needed. With football season over, and the Ravens losing season, SportsCenter just wasn’t the same. Sure, he loved all sports, but football, after playing in college, was his love.

  Trying to think ahead, he decided to channel surf and find a movie they might watch after dinner. Would she want action? Romance? Comedy? Please, not some sappy story that would make her cry. He didn’t think he could stand that. Hell, he couldn’t stand any woman crying, but the thought of Madison crying tore at his gut.

  Madison entered the room and blood shot to his groin. She wore a snug long-sleeved T-shirt and tight jeans, with her bare pink toes peeking out from underneath the hem. This was nothing like the classy dress slacks and cashmere sweater she’d had on earlier. This was the real Madison. The one he’d protected while her sister had been kidnapped. This was the Madison who liked to get comfortable. He wondered if he could get her in sweats one day. That image made him smile.

  “Something smells wonderful,” she said shyly.

  Realizing he was staring, probably with his mouth open, Brad stood. “Kate sent over some lasagna yesterday. I had some last night. It’s pretty good.” He shifted in aggravated discomfort. “Sorry, but I don’t have anything for salad. We can go to the store tomorrow and get something for you to eat.”

  She grimaced and followed him to the kitchen. “I can definitely live without salad tonight. Maybe for the rest of my life. You wouldn’t believe how many bowls of green stuff I’ve eaten.” She sauntered to a barstool and sat down before a place setting he’d added earlier. “Thank you again for allowing me to stay here with you. I hate putting you out.”

  “You’re not putting me out,” he stated. “That room’s been empty for a while. It’ll be nice to have some company. I hope you’re more of a talker than Matt was.” Now why the fuck had he said that? He hated incessant chatter that some women were prone to deliver. Please don’t let her be one of them and ruin that perfect image I have of her. Her long legs, subtle curves, her beautiful hair fanned out on his bed, their conversation perfectly aligned. Perfect.

  That stopped him short. He liked the woman he dreamed about. Always had. Would being around her ruin that? She’d been his fantasy for so long, that he couldn’t see straight. What if the real person burst that bubble of perfection he’d been building since the first time they’d met? Even the arguing they’d done hadn’t wavered who he thought she would be. He’d understood her anger, but now… it appeared they’d put that scene out of their minds, and he was thankful for it.

  “Brad,” Madison prodded. “Are you all right?”

  Shaking his head and feeling foolish, he gave her one of his charming smiles. He knew the smiles he gave, because when he’d been in college, he’d practiced them in the mirror until he had them down pat. Vain, maybe, but something he appreciated at times like this one when he wanted to put his best face forward. “Sure. What did you say?”

  “I can’t guarantee I’m more of a talker. I’ve been living alone, so I’m used to only talking to myself.” Her smile brightened her face. The face free of cosmetics. Holy shit. She was even more beautiful. Smooth and shiny. He wanted to reach out and touch her.

  Turning to check the lasagna instead, he also checked himself for control. He lost some of that control around her. His thoughts jumbled, and he could only focus on her. It had to be because he had so many fantasies he hadn’t lived out with her. Maybe once he had, he’d be free of this madness that had overtaken his mind and body.

  Reaching around with pot holders, Brad set the hot pan down on a trivet on the bar. He’d decided earlier eating at the bar was less intimate than eating at the dining table. He could be wrong since eating close to her could possibly be too close to her. As he took away the pot holders, he said, “We also have dessert. A cheesecake of Kate’s.”

  She bit her lip before she answered. “I don’t know about that. That might be taking it too far.”

  He couldn’t imagine a life where dessert was a dirty word. She’d missed so much in her world, and he wanted to give it back to her. Settled on the barstool beside her, he served her up a generous portion of lasagna and then one for himself. “When’s the last time you ate dessert?”

  A sigh escaped her. “I don’t even know.”

  “Then you can have a bite or two of mine if you don’t want a whole piece.”

  “I might take you up on that.”

  Her smile and bright eyes did something to his chest. Before he could think straight, he blurted, “I want you back in my bed.” He internally smacked himself on the forehead. Where the fuck had that come from?

  The weight of his statement settled over them like a heavy blanket. Then, Madison stood. “Staying here was the wrong thing to do. I’ll find someplace else tomorrow. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll retire for the evening.” With that stilted and formal goodnight, she turned and walked to Matt’s bedroom, and Brad did nothing to stop her, too pissed at himself. Why had he been such an idiot?

  He’d probably just ruined any chance of getting to know her better, and something inside him broke a little with that thought. There was more to Madison Maxwell than a vixen in his bed, and Brad wanted to find out who that person was.

  No more was his thought on only having her naked in his bed. Spending the day with her had changed that. So had her needing protection. Yet it led to a challenge of wills.

  He faced the one challenge he’d never had in his life—how to get the woman—all of her.

  LUGGING A SUITCASE full of lingerie into her sister’s home, Madison plastered on a smile. She’d avoided Brad that morning at his house and snuck out like a thief in the night. Facing him wasn’t something she could handle. Staying up most of the night thinking about him—again—had to stop. Her focus now was on the business. Nothing but the business. And finding herself someplace safe to stay until she closed on her own place.

  After much thought, she considered him overreacting in the need to be by her side 24/7. Surely he exaggerated. She still shivered at the thought but figured the men hadn’t threatened her and they wouldn’t do anything in broad daylight. Would they? She internally shook her head. Of course they wouldn’t. Brad had exaggerated for whatever reason. Was he trying to get closer to her? Was that it and he couldn’t think of a better way to accomplish that feat?

  No matter. If there was a threat—which she doubted—she’d be with her sister, who could kick ass and take names like it was nothing.

  “Good morning,” Rylee said, as Madison wheeled the suitcase toward the open living roo
m. “Would you like some coffee or a cappuccino?”

  A pleased sigh escaped her at the thought of a decent coffee. “I’d love a latte.” She halted by the couch and lowered the handle on her luggage. She slapped her hand on the hard-sided suitcase. “I brought the samples. We need to decide on a couple of pieces.” Then she grimaced. “There’s another suitcase in my trunk.”

  “I’ll get it,” a deep, male voice said from behind them. Her heart jumped. Christ, Devon had snuck up on her. How the hell had he been so quiet on the hardwood floors? Surely one of them creaked. Didn’t all old floors?

  “Thanks.” She smiled at her brother-in-law. “The trunk’s open. Just close it after you get it out. It’s the only thing—besides my emergency kit—in there.” Her emergency kit wasn’t just in case the car broke down. It was also in case she was stranded in the cold. She’d never understood how one of those tiny, folded, silver things they called emergency blankets worked—and she hoped to never find out—but she had two in her pack. Just in case.

  As Devon breezed by his wife at the door, he dropped a soft kiss on Rylee’s lips. Madison sighed dreamily. Her sister and her brother-in-law were so much in love. She didn’t wish her sister anything different, but she was jealous of the life Rylee had been able to create for herself. Rylee had it all together. Career. Man. Home. Family.

  Family besides just her. A large family that Rylee loved. With a slightly sinking heart, she asked, “Where’s Mitch?”

  “Asleep. I expect he’ll be awake in a few minutes. Devon has agreed to stay home and take care of him so we can get this all together.”

  “You don’t need to work today?”

  Rylee shook her head. “No, but I do leave for Belgium soon.”

  “Oh,” Madison said, not sure what else to say to that. She knew it would be Rylee’s first time leaving her son, and although she’d never experienced it, she heard it was an emotional time for mothers—especially first-time mothers.

  “It’ll be fine,” Rylee asserted. “Really,” she continued, as if trying to convince herself, “it’ll be fine.”

  Madison bit her lip and watched sadness and loss sweep over Rylee’s face. Would her sister be able to handle the separation? And Belgium. Geez, could she get further away where she couldn’t rush home if there was an emergency? Maybe she’d become more involved in the boutique and less involved in HIS. Madison could hope, but it’d have to be her sister’s decision. And, it’d be a tough one because Rylee loved her job. From what she’d gathered when she’d been around the group in Vegas, her sister was damn good at it also.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Rylee started. “We should change the name. PYNK is a good name, but with Victoria’s Secret having a line like that and the name being tied to a nightclub, it’d be better to start fresh.”

  Welcome air whooshed from Madison’s lungs. Thank you, Jesus. Her sister had brought up the topic. Madison wanted the change but had been hesitant to bring it up since the initial name had been Rylee’s idea before they’d opened the club to women. “I think that’s an excellent idea. Do you have any thoughts?”

  “How about Naughtie Nighties?” Rylee laughed on her way to the kitchen. “I’m not sure our high-end clients will like that one, but I do.”

  Laughing felt good. Freeing her mind of the confusion and fear she’d felt at being shot at and learning a man had been killed. As if all that had happened to her had passed. She hadn’t even told her sister the story of her being shot at. Well, not shooting at her exactly, but she’d been there and could’ve been hit. Her legs weakened at the thought. Her sister would freak when she heard the full story. If Brad told, it was possible Rylee had already heard, but she hadn’t said anything.

  With a sigh, Madison followed her sister to the kitchen where she waited while the coffee machine hissed and spit out her coffee. Then the steamer whirred the milk to a warm foamy mess. When Madison had the finished product in her hand, she smiled. Brad had only had regular coffee—which she drank—but cafe lattes were her favorite, even though they contained fattening milk. No sugar, no extra flavor, just plain stoked her appetite.

  After Rylee picked up her own drink, she turned to Madison. “What happened on the road?”

  Shit. It sounded like she already knew what had happened. She’d heard Brad tell his brother on the phone. She should’ve guessed someone would tell her sister. She’d wanted to be the one to give her the story, but she just hadn’t figured out how. Rylee had always been protective of her when they were growing up, even though she was only a year older than Madison. They’d met when Rylee had been eleven and Madison had been ten. Their parents—Rylee’s mother and Madison’s father—had fallen in love and married. Madison hadn’t wanted a new momma, but she’d come to love Rylee’s mother as if she’d been her own. The woman had a huge heart that her daughter seemed to have inherited.

  Recently, Madison’s father had passed away from a heart attack, leaving her with only distant cousins who preferred to live off the grid and didn’t want anything to do with her since she was considered famous and would bring the public with her. She never considered herself famous. Popular, yes. Sure, she’d had her share of paparazzi, but not like movie stars.

  “Maddie?” Rylee prompted.

  Her pulse rate increased just thinking about the danger she’d been in yesterday, through no fault of her own. “Let’s go sit down and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  They perched on the cream-colored sofa, and Madison wondered how her sister kept it so clean with a small child. That was also when she noticed the second suitcase. Devon must’ve settled it in the living room for them while they were in the kitchen making coffee on his way to take care of his and Rylee’s son. Madison could hear him cooing to a giggling baby. Oh, to have a man like that. Would Brad ever—? No, she couldn’t think that. It was stupid and irrational to think like that. Even though he’d been a brute before, he was kind and caring with her, and no matter the situation, her heart fluttered.

  Once settled, Madison walked her sister through the events that began with her witnessing the accident—which Rylee knew about since she’d been speaking with her on the phone—to the congresswoman’s rescue, the dead driver, the shots, and Brad covering her. She left off how they’d both been turned on, even in the face of danger. It had disgusted her at how inappropriate it had been, yet her body had reacted to him at such a time. And, he’d definitely reacted to her. She’d felt his reaction against her pelvis.

  “I can’t believe all of that happened, and you didn’t call me later that night. I called twice to check on you. Your cell phone went to voice mail. The Ivy wouldn’t confirm if you’d arrived, which pissed me off, but then Devon heard the story from Jesse.” She sat her coffee cup on a wooden side table. “I had to hear about it from my husband. I almost stormed over to the hotel myself, but I didn’t know what room you were staying in and they surely wouldn’t share it.”

  Madison winced. She hadn’t wanted that to happen. She’d just wanted to cocoon herself that night in the safety of her room. No bullets. No Brad Hamilton. But then last night at Brad’s…. “I’m sorry I didn’t pick up your calls. I just needed some time to decompress, and yesterday I was tied up with a realtor.”

  “It’s possible you’re in danger,” her sister stated matter-of-factly.

  Had she heard of the potential buyers of the club visiting her? Christ, she couldn’t keep anything secret with her sister. Or, she groused, when Brad Hamilton was involved. He must be the big mouth telling everything to his brothers and Rylee. “I can’t see why I am. It’s obvious they were trying to kill the senator, not Brad or me. Besides, I think Brad overreacted about the potential buyers for the club.”

  Rylee’s back straightened. “What happened exactly? I got the information thirdhand.”

  “They were at The Ivy yesterday”—a shudder raced through her—“wanting to speak with me about the offer. Brad showed up, and he said they were dangerous and I needed to stay away. Anyhow, I
stayed in his brother’s old room at his house because he said the hotel wasn’t safe.” She set her empty cup down on the coffee table with a barely noticeable tremble. “I think he was overreacting. I’m getting a new hotel today unless you think differently. If that’s the case, I still want somewhere else to stay.”

  Jumping up, Rylee paced quietly. When she halted, she frowned. “Devon worried about me when I told him we were going to turn down the offer. He’s pretty much stuck to Mitch and me like glue. I’m not sure if he’s right, but I listen to his instincts. If Brad says the same, they probably know something we don’t. And”—she shook her head, her auburn hair swishing around her shoulders—“I think Brad’s right and you should have protection.”

  “But—”

  Plopping back down on the couch, Rylee cut her off. “No buts. Look, it may be nothing, but it can’t hurt. So you have company for a while, and you stay at Brad’s. Besides—” She grinned mischievously. “—I heard you really like Brad.” She stressed the word like it meant something.

  She gasped. Rylee knew. It had to have been Devon who’d told her, but how many others knew? These brothers seem to be one big grapevine of gossip. Nothing got by them. “You know?” she whispered.

  Nodding, her sister smiled. “Yep and I’m upset you never told me about it. Well, not exactly about it, but the fact that you slept with my brother-in-law at my wedding. Second wedding,” she corrected herself.

  Second considering she hadn’t remembered the first due to being drugged. Her husband, Devon, hadn’t drugged her and had no idea she’d been in that state. He’d had his own memory issues, so they’d had a second wedding for not only themselves but family and friends. Because their life together had started in Vegas, they held the wedding there, where Madison had once again been with her sister’s new family, which included Brad. Even though he had a twin, she’d picked him out right away and could somehow tell the difference in them. It was something about the old broken noses that set them apart.