“There was nothing ambiguous about it.”
Frustration made him blunt. “Yes, all right, then. I wanted to take you against the wall. But that had nothing to do with the money. The five million was for work, not sex. And the offer stands.”
For thirty silent seconds, he could have heard a pin drop. Then, “Thanks, but the answer’s still no.”
He released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“Seriously, though,” she went on, “you’ve got a weak link in Brady. He wants to get in Alice’s pants, so she leads him around by his dick.”
Feeling a moment’s kinship with his chief counsel, Adam almost smiled. Then he sat back, relaxed for the first time all morning. “So, which one of them has to go?”
BRADY WAS OUT, Alice was in. “My work here is done,” Maddie said, satisfied.
Adam smiled, devastatingly. “Only if you’re sure you won’t take the job yourself.”
So tempting in so many ways. And unequivocally out of the question.
Looking away, she focused on John Doe, stretched out on the seat between them, all four feet in the air. “Parker has to see this.” She dug out her phone, snapped a shot, and e-mailed it with a brief note about John.
When she looked up, Adam was eyeing her. “You seem close, you and Parker.”
“I told you he’s a good friend. Not that it’s any of your beeswax.”
His grin was ridiculously gorgeous. “I haven’t heard that phrase before.”
“Because you didn’t grow up in the woods of New England.”
“Far from it. What was it like?”
“A lot more provincial than your upbringing.” He’d been everywhere; she’d been nowhere. Her one and only flight had been so disastrous that she’d written off the rest of the world as out of reach.
He shrugged in his uniquely European way. “Small-town life is usually portrayed as idyllic. You didn’t find it so?”
“Not a bit.” Short and sharp, to cut him off. She’d talk business with him all day, but no personal stuff.
He didn’t take the hint. “You don’t miss it? Your friends? Your family?”
“My friends are here. And my parents are dead.” No way was she talking about her father, who, unfortunately, wasn’t actually dead, just dead to her.
“We have that in common,” he said. “We’re orphans, alone in the world.”
“I’m not alone. I have Lucy, and other people who matter to me.”
His gaze was too steady, too penetrating, so she turned the tables. “You’re not alone either, not with a different babe on your arm every weekend.”
“Speaking of which.” He pulled the Post from his briefcase, flopped it open. And there it was in black and white.
The sidewalk lip lock.
For ten humming seconds, she stared at the picture as every drop of blood drained out of her head. “You knew when you kissed me that this would happen.”
Why did that hurt so much? Why, given their circumstances, did it feel like a betrayal?
“Actually,” he said, tossing the paper on the seat across from them, “at that moment I wasn’t thinking about paparazzi.”
“Yeah, right.” She went for sarcastic but it came out pathetic instead. She turned her face to the window, tried to wrangle her chaotic emotions. She was embarrassed in a dozen different ways, not least of which because she’d believed in that kiss. She’d believed Adam was, for that one moment, as overcome with desire as she was.
“I’m sorry, Maddie.”
“Please.” She hit the sarcastic note this time. “I’m sure you feel shitty about humiliating me publicly. You’ve got nothing but my best interests at heart.”
She lowered the window so cool air hit her face. Outside, Fifth Avenue slid by. Saks and Lord & Taylor. High-heeled shoppers and ladies who lunch.
She refused to feel sad. Mad was better, easier. Adam had messed up her life. It hadn’t been a perfect life, but it was hers. She’d lived it her way, made her own choices, for her own reasons.
“Maddie.” He covered her hand where it rested on John’s belly.
She shook him off. LeCroix held the purse strings; she was stuck with that. But no way was she letting him know she was into him, that he turned her on just by saying her name.
“We talked about this.” His tone was firm. “It’s better this way, if people think you’ve suddenly lost your head over me.”
She thunked her skull against the window. He didn’t know how true it was.
“It’s better if your sister believes it too,” he said.
That brought her head around. “I can’t let Lucy think I’d fall for you! I’m not much of a role model, but I’m all she’s got.”
His eyes, that startling blue, went flat. “Surely you don’t want her to know the real reason you’re in my company.”
Well, shit. If Lucy knew Maddie was sacrificing her pride and her future to pay for college, she’d withdraw from RISD on the spot.
“I-I’ll have to think about it.”
“While you’re thinking, you might consider that she’ll likely see our picture before she arrives. It’s running in most of the usual news outlets.”
He was right. “Don’t people have anything better to give a shit about than who’s banging Adam LeCroix?”
“Given our history, your name is as prominent as mine.”
She glanced at the Post, still open to the story. Her original guess hadn’t been far off. “Piranha Has Pitbull Eating Out of His . . . Hand.”
“Why didn’t they just say pants? That’s what they meant.”
“The Post would never be so uncouth.”
She snorted, then trained her gaze out the window again. “I can’t tell Lucy the whole truth, but I’m not pretending that you and I are a thing.”
“Suit yourself. But we should get our stories straight.”
She took a breath, thought it through. “Lucy was still in high school when you stole the Lady in Red. Odds are she doesn’t remember much about the case. It wouldn’t have been discussed at home.”
“No? I’d think your parents would’ve been proud of their eldest daughter making international headlines.”
She let that bait float past her. “She’ll get the backstory now, of course. They’ll dredge it up to go with the picture. But you and me, we’ll play it down.”
She relaxed as the story unwound. “I’ll tell her we were never archenemies, it was just media bullshit to sell newspapers, blah blah. The whole thing ended amicably, which the press never bothered to report because where’s the story in that? So when you needed someone to help you with this insurance thing, you naturally thought of me.”
“And the kiss?”
“A dare.” She liked that idea. “Yeah, your buddy Dakota dared you to kiss the Pitbull, just to see if she’d chew your tongue out.” She laughed. “Lucy’s smart. Once she meets you, she’ll know you’d never turn down a dare.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, dryly, “since I’m not likely to get another from you.”
“Or another kiss either.” She showed her teeth. “Next time you try it, I’ll bite.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“MADDIIIIEEE!” LUCY SWALLOWED her sister in a bear hug.
“Hi, Luce,” Maddie mumbled into Lucy’s armpit.
Adam grinned. Maddie hadn’t mentioned that Lucy had six inches and thirty pounds on her.
Lucy released her, did a twirl around the penthouse foyer, her flouncy skirt billowing around her thighs. “Ohmygod, this place is gorgeous!”
Then she stilled. “Is . . . is that a Rodin?” She took a hesitant step toward the bronze figure mounted on a marble pedestal.
“Yeah,” Maddie said like it was no big deal. “Adam’s got art coming out of his ass.”
“Not quite,” he said, stepping forward, “but if you’re fond of Rodin, there’s a bust in the gallery you might enjoy.”
Maddie’s mouth twisted into a smile. “Lucy,
meet Adam LeCroix. This is his place. One of them, anyway.”
“It’s lovely to meet you,” he said, shaking Lucy’s hand, so much larger than Maddie’s. They hardly looked like sisters. Lucy’s strawberry blond hair was straight as a pin and parted like silk around her shoulders. And her eyes, the incandescent blue-green of the Mediterranean, danced with humor and delight.
“Thanks for having us.” She skipped a few steps away to stand beside the lanky young man who’d stepped off the elevator with her. His streaky blond hair touched his shoulders, his jeans were frayed at the knees, and his black leather jacket gapped open over a vintage Metallica T-shirt.
Beaming like the sun, Lucy slipped a slender arm around his waist. “Mads, this is Crash.”
She announced it like she’d won the blue ribbon and knew her sister would be so proud.
Adam cut a look at Maddie. She stood perfectly still, steely eyes assessing the guy. Crash took it like a man, didn’t flinch or shuffle. Instead, he tipped his lips up on one side, a question as much as a smile, like he knew he was being weighed and measured and was curious, but not nervous, about the verdict.
Realizing the stalemate could go on all night, Adam put a hand on Maddie’s back and carried her forward with him. “A pleasure,” he said, shaking Crash’s hand. Then he pinched Maddie, not hard enough to make her jump, just enough to irritate her into action.
“Hi, Crash,” she said, just this side of a sneer. She did a quick, hard shake that Crash seemed to take in stride.
“Lucy talks about you all the time,” he said in a warm tenor more mature than his lean face. “It’s great to finally meet you.” And he broke into a heart-melting smile.
Unfortunately for Crash, Maddie was immune to heart-melting smiles, as Adam could attest. The smile she returned was more of a bone crusher.
The resilient Crash let it roll off like rain. To Adam, he said politely, “Thanks for taking us along to Italy. We’re real excited about it.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Lucy said. She smiled conspiratorially. “What drugs are you giving Maddie to get her on the plane?”
Drugs? Adam looked at Maddie; she’d gone cherry red. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, seemed to have lost her tongue.
Why hadn’t she said she was afraid of flying? It was nothing to be ashamed of. Yet here she was, terrified, and too proud to tell him.
“My Gulfstream hardly feels like an airplane,” he said, keeping his tone casual, hoping to allay her fears. “More like an apartment. And my pilots are the best in the business.”
Lucy reached out and rubbed Maddie’s arm. “I’ll be right there, Mads. We’ll hold hands all the way.”
“Pfft.” Maddie managed a sickly smile. “I’ll be fine.”
Crash gave Lucy a squeeze. “Don’t worry, babe. Your sister doesn’t look like she scares easy.” He tipped his head at Maddie, a friendly half smile on his good-looking face. “In fact, she looks like she’ll chew a hole in the plane if it gives her any shit.”
That startled a laugh out of Maddie.
Lucy laughed too. “You have no idea. Maddie’s not into subtlety. One time at this bar, Blue-something, I can’t remember the name, these really obnoxious drunk guys kept hitting on us. They wouldn’t quit, so Maddie had this idea, and on three, we pulled out their pants and poured our cosmos down the front. It was hilarious!”
Lucy caught Maddie’s hand, an unconscious show of affection. “We were laughing our asses off, because, you know, cosmos are really sugary, so their balls would be sticking to their—”
“We get the picture,” Crash cut in.
“All too well,” Adam said. He was glad to see the sisterly love flow both ways. “Maddie, darling, why don’t we show Lucy and Crash to their rooms?”
Maddie pounced on it. “Come on, Luce, you’re right next to me.” She led the way, saying over her shoulder, “Crash, you’re at the other end of the hall.”
Lucy sent Crash an I-told-you-so eye roll. He sent back a don’t-worry-babe wink.
And envy snuck up and stabbed Adam where it hurt.
He wasn’t used to envying anybody, much less a stripling like Crash. But the world had upended in the last forty-eight hours, and unless something set it to rights before bedtime, the new reality was that while the boy spent the night balls deep in a beautiful woman, Adam would be stuck with the palm of his hand.
LUCY PLOPPED ON Maddie’s sofa and patted the cushion. “Quit pacing and sit with me. Did you know all the green in here brings out your eyes?”
“Mmm.” Maddie sat. “So. What’s the deal with Crash?” She was going for girl chat, but even she heard the edge in her voice. She cleared her throat like a frog was to blame, crossed her legs like she was relaxed.
“He’s hot,” she said, trying again. And it was true. Blond hair, blue eyes, and that wicked cute smile. He had heartbreaker written all over him.
“Isn’t he gorgeous?” Lucy sighed. “And so sweet. He’s always doing little things, like bringing me Milk Duds. You know how I love them. And he cooks.” She let her head fall back. “Red sauce like you Would. Not. Believe.”
Maddie could hardly blame her sister for falling for food when she’d practically sold her own soul for carbonara. But still.
“Cooking is good. But”—she couldn’t help herself—“he’s in a band, right? So there must be girls.”
Lucy gave her a look. “He’s not fooling around on me. He wouldn’t, and anyway, I’d be able to tell.”
“All women think they’d be able to tell. Look at Vicky. She didn’t know Winston-the-shit-stain was cheating until we walked in on him banging her secretary.”
“Totally different situation. Winston was a jerk from the get-go. I don’t know what Vicky ever saw in him.”
“True. But Crash is in a band.”
“And Adam LeCroix is an international playboy.”
“So?”
“So, the guy’s a player, Mads. Why would you get involved with him?”
“I’m not involved. I’m working for him. See?” She waved an arm. “I’ve got my own suite. It’s just business.”
“Baloney. I saw you kissing him on TV.”
“No.” Maddie shook her head. “We’re just . . . that was a dare. That kissing thing was a dare. His . . . his friend dared him.” She sounded like a guilty teenager.
“Right. Adam LeCroix stuck his tongue down your throat on a dare. And now you’ll tell me you hated it. That’s why you were fighting him off with your arms around his neck.”
A knock on the door rescued Maddie from that one. Bridget stuck her head in. “Dinner in twenty minutes.”
Lucy got to her feet. “Thanks, Bridget. And thanks for unpacking my stuff. But you really didn’t have to. We’re leaving tomorrow.”
“I’m not sure about that, ma’am. I heard Mr. LeCroix tell Henry to cancel the flight.”
Maddie shot to her feet. “What the f—” She headed for the door. “I’ll see you at dinner, Luce. I need to talk to Adam.”
She hammered Adam’s door, then barged into his suite. “Listen, LeCroix—Oh jeez.” She covered her eyes. “Do you have to walk around like that?”
“Without a shirt? In my own suite? Call me an exhibitionist.”
She dropped her hand. At least his junk was in his jeans.
“Listen.” She focused on a point somewhere over his left shoulder. His broad, tanned, beautifully defined left shoulder. “Bridget said you canceled the flight.”
“That’s true. I changed my mind. We’ll work from here.”
She gritted her teeth. “You did it because of what Lucy said. About me not liking to fly.”
He came toward her. She couldn’t help dropping her eyes, first to his face, then lower, to his chest, and lower, to his—
She forced them up again. He caught them, held them, closing the distance until she had to tip her head back.
“Madeline.”
Why did her name, which she’d never really liked in any of its forms, sound so e
xotic, so thrilling on his tongue?
“Darling.”
Why did that casual term of endearment that had pissed her off two days ago now sound perfectly natural to her ear?
His fingertip traced her brow. “I wish you’d told me.”
Why did she stay perfectly still instead of stepping away from his touch?
“I don’t want to see you frightened.”
Okay, spell broken. “I’m not frightened, okay? I get a little nervous, that’s all. Only an idiot wouldn’t worry about flying over the Atlantic in a tuna can. Maybe you’re an idiot, but I’m not. And we’re going to Italy.”
His lips quirked, amused. “You’ve fought it for days. I finally concede, and now you’re insisting we go. Why? Because I’ll think less of you?”
“Pfft. I don’t care what you think of me.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. “We’re going because you got Lucy excited about it, that’s why.”
He shrugged that perfect left shoulder. “They can go without us.”
“Oh no.” She shook her head. “That kid’s hot and he knows it, and Lucy’s crazy about him. If I’m not there, they’ll be banging like bunnies.”
“They’ll be banging like bunnies anyway. Do you honestly think you can keep them apart? And really, why would you want to?”
“Why?” It was the stupidest question ever. “You’ve met Lucy. She’s . . . she’s magical. Untouched.” Circling around him, she paced to the fireplace where John Doe snored peacefully, supper bulging his belly.
“If it was just sex, I wouldn’t think twice about it,” she said. “But she’s involved with him. Emotionally involved.”
He sent her a baffled look. “You’d prefer she have meaningless sex with men she doesn’t care about?”
“Of course not. Well, maybe.” She waved her arms. “You’re not getting it. No boy’s ever hurt her, and I don’t want some doper musician with a perpetual hard-on to steal her heart and break it.”
“Why do you think he’ll break her heart? Maybe she’ll break his.”
She pointed a finger at him. “I told you, you don’t get it. You’ve never been in love.”
The Wedding Vow Page 13