SO THAT’S HOW it would be. Adam sipped his coffee, disappointed but unsurprised.
Lucy chuckled. “Morning Maddie’s a crab, Adam. She needs at least two cups of java before she’s civil. Three if she didn’t get enough sleep.”
“I do not,” Maddie crabbed, proving it was true. “What I need is elbow room. Why’s everybody climbing all over me?”
Unfazed, Lucy rolled her eyes, said to Adam, “What time do we roll?”
“Nine o’clock.”
“Are we limo-ing?”
“Is that a word?” Maddie snipped. “Limo-ing?”
“If it isn’t, it should be.” Adam smiled at Lucy. “Yes, we’re limo-ing. Henry’s gone ahead with John and the luggage.”
For the first time, Maddie swung around to face him, puffed up with indignation. “You’re not sticking John in the baggage compartment.”
“Of course not,” he said easily, noting tension around her eyes that had nothing to do with John Doe. “He’ll be in the cabin with us.”
He leaned back, stretched his arm along the back of her chair. She leaned forward until her breasts bumped her plate. Which gave him the interesting idea of dripping maple syrup all over them.
Soon.
For now, she’d have to get used to his proximity, because he planned to spend a great deal of time inside her personal space.
Crash came up for air. “How long’s the flight?”
“Seven hours,” Adam said. He saw it hit Maddie like a brick. The color drained from her cheeks.
She’d been too distracted, he realized, to brood about the flight. Too busy worrying about her sister. Too busy riding his cock.
If they were flying alone, he’d keep her busy with that all the way across the Atlantic. As it was, he said, “My pilots expect a smooth flight.”
Crash blundered in. “That’s what they said last time I flew to L.A. Then we hit one of those air pockets where the plane drops, like, a mile in two seconds.” He laughed. “Freefall, baby. Like skydiving without a chute.”
Lucy pinched him.
“Ow,” he said. “What’d I do?”
Maddie had gone whiter still, seemed to sway in her seat. Adam covered her icy hand with his. She didn’t shake him off. He was glad, but it broke his heart that she was too distressed to fight him.
“We’ll be perfectly safe,” he said, looking at Lucy, but speaking for Maddie’s benefit. “Safer than on the drive to New Jersey.”
“Totally,” Lucy said, like it went without saying. “We’ll play poker all the way, right, Mads? You can try to win back some of the fifty K I’m up.”
Maddie pulled herself together, a perceptible process of straightening her spine, loosening her jaw. She did it for Lucy. The power of her love was awesome.
“Yeah, sure.” She slid her hand out from under Adam’s without sparing him a glance. “Let’s get the party started. I can hardly wait.”
ALONE IN HER suite, Maddie let herself shake. How had she forgotten about this morning’s flight? It was like forgetting you had a breakfast date with the lions at the Colosseum.
She sank down on the sofa. The nice earthbound sofa. It might be forty stories in the air, but it was attached to solid ground by steel girders and other reliable materials—unlike the plane that would shortly be floating untethered a mile above the bottomless blue sea.
Her stomach cramped. She hunched over to hug it. Why had she wolfed down half a loaf of French toast? She hated, hated, hated to puke. It always went up her nose.
Lucy knocked on the door, poked her head in. “Oh, honey.” She came to sit beside Maddie, wrapped an arm around her. “Crash is a blockhead. I chewed him a new one, Maddie-style.”
She worked up a ghost of a smile. “If I wasn’t such a wimp—”
“Stop right there. You’re the bravest, smartest, savviest woman I know. You’ve got one little phobia. So what? Who doesn’t?”
“You don’t. You’re not afraid of anything.” She leaned into Lucy, let her sister rub her back. “I want your optimism.”
“Well, you can’t have it, because it comes from having you as a sister. It’s impossible to worry when the Pitbull’s got your back.”
“I can’t help you if the plane goes down.” Maddie rubbed circles over her stomach. That usually kept a lid on things.
Lucy glanced toward the bedroom. “Let me get one of your pills. You can sleep through the flight.”
“And be out when we make an emergency water landing? No thanks.”
“Okay, well, what did you do last night?”
Maddie stiffened. “What do you mean? I slept, that’s what.”
“Exactly. I figured you’d lie awake all night worrying, but you said you slept great. So, what did you do to relax?”
Maddie sagged against her again. “With all the action, I just forgot about flying.”
“You got some action? With Adam?”
Oh jeez. She’d walked into that one. “I meant having dinner with Dakota Rain. Trying not to jump him.”
“No kidding. He’s even hotter in person. And he’s got flirting down to an art.” Lucy snickered. “Crash wanted to kill him. And Adam was even worse. Dakota’s crush on you was making him nuts.”
“Pfft. Dakota’s a crush-a-day guy. He’ll never settle on one woman. And it’s none of Adam’s beeswax anyway.”
“So there’s nothing going on with you two?”
She evaded. “He’s a crook, Luce. You need to keep that in mind. Keep your guard up.”
Lucy laughed. “Yeah, he might steal my . . . oh, wait, I don’t have anything worth stealing.”
“You have your heart and your trust and your good reputation. He chews those things up and spits them out.”
“Mads”—suddenly serious—“did he hurt you?”
“No.” Well, he’d pissed all over her reputation, but Lucy didn’t need to know that. “He can’t hurt me, not really, because I know what he’s about. He’s trouble.”
Lucy tilted her head to catch Maddie’s eye. “Are you sure about that? Because he seems really kind. I mean, you’ve seen him with John. He dotes. He’s thoughtful too, taking me and Crash to Italy. And he’s so sophisticated about art and travel and everything.”
It was all too true. But Maddie didn’t want to consider it. Adam belonged in an eight-foot cell.
“Not to mention,” Lucy added as if more need be said, “that he’s so freaking good-looking I could stare at him all day.” She punched Maddie’s arm lightly. “Don’t tell Crash I said that.”
“Yeah. About Crash.” Maddie changed the subject gladly. “How serious are you guys?”
“We’re in love.”
She said it simply, matter-of-factly, as if an asteroid hadn’t just crashed into the planet and sent it spinning toward the sun.
Maddie rubbed her stomach.
“We met at one of his gigs.” Lucy’s eyes went dreamy. “You should see him on stage. It transforms him.”
“From what to what?” A skinny guy with a stevedore’s appetite to a skinny guy with a guitar?
“From the sweet, adorable guy-next-door to a hot sex god. Girls go crazy over him, lifting up their shirts, begging him to sign their tits.”
“Tell me you’re not one of them.”
“Me?” Lucy looked appalled. “Not in this life. I was actually leaving the club, cutting out a side door when Crash ducked out for some air.”
“He just happened to follow you out. Uh-huh.”
“No, seriously. It was a total coincidence. Anyway, I told him I liked the band, he told me he liked my smile”—she shrugged—“and the rest is history.”
“You’re too young to have history. And what makes you think it’s love? Lust, maybe, and intense like, but you just met him, what, two weeks ago?”
“Actually, it was last Saturday.”
“What?” Maddie sat up, stomachache forgotten. “You’ve known him for a week and it’s love?”
Lucy shrugged, serenely. “Sometime
s you just know.”
“Baloney. Next you’ll tell me it’s fate, or karma, or some other happy hooey.” She glowered at Lucy. “You can’t know if you’re in love after a week. You just can’t.”
“Well, I do. I wish you’d be happy for me.”
“Not gonna happen. What will happen is Crash—and what the fuck kind of name is Crash?—will break your sweet, innocent heart.” She shot out a finger like a bullet from a gun. “Tell me you’re on birth control. At least two kinds.”
Lucy laughed. “Don’t worry, neither of us is ready for kids.”
“Oh God, you’ve talked about kids already?” Maddie fisted her hair.
“Sure. We’re in love, we talk about everything.” Lucy glanced at the mantel clock. “Sweetie, we’ve got to go. The limo’s waiting.”
Maddie let go of her hair and clutched her stomach.
It was too much to process. Lucy was in love with a rocker. Adam had invaded her body and—face it—her mind. And now she had to get on an airplane.
What next?
Her phone buzzed a text. Another wedding vow from Vicky.
“Argh!” She threw it at the sofa.
ADAM’S GULFSTREAM G650 was state-of-the-art. No executive’s preowned castoff for him. This baby had rolled straight off the assembly line into his hangar.
Frozen like a rabbit on the tarmac, Maddie watched Lucy and Crash skip up the stairway and disappear inside.
“Maddie, darling.” Adam stroked a hand down her arm. “Wouldn’t you rather we called this off?”
Her dry throat convulsed on a swallow. “I’m fine.” She took a small step, then her feet seemed to go numb.
Adam took her hand in his warm palm. “You’re freezing,” he murmured. “It’s seventy degrees and your skin is like ice.”
A shiver ran through her.
“That’s enough.” He lifted a hand to the pilot. “I’m not putting you through this.”
“No!” She pulled on his arm. “I need to get on that plane.”
“Darling, there’s no shame in it.”
“It’s not shame,” she said, trying to explain what she scarcely understood herself. “Okay, maybe a little. But it’s more than that.” She took a deep breath, set her teeth. “It’s me against the plane now. I can’t let it win.”
She half expected him to laugh. Instead, he nodded as if he finally understood. “Ready then?”
“In a minute.” Her feet were set in concrete. “I just need . . .” Something. But what?
Then John poked his head out of the plane, gave a gusty woof. And the breath that was trapped in her lungs hissed out through her teeth like air from a balloon.
John clambered down the steps and barreled across the tarmac to fetch them, eager to get the show on the road.
Crouching to meet him, she wrapped her arms around his scabby neck, buried her face in his patchy fur. He was so courageous; his heart was so huge. How could she be less?
On rubber legs, she let him lead her onto the plane.
Lucy and Crash were already living it up, checking out the sound system, sipping mimosas and undressing each other with their eyes.
If they’d had sex in front of her, Maddie couldn’t have cared less. Sweat trickled in a thin, steady line down her spine.
Adam’s hand on her back kept her moving down the aisle, maneuvering her into a seat, one of a pair that faced another pair, all cream-colored leather. He sat beside her. John flopped on her toes.
“Can I bring you something, Maddie?”
She glanced up at Henry. She must look like a ghost to put such concern in his eyes.
“Not just now,” Adam answered for her. “Perhaps once we’re cruising. Please tell Jacques to lift off as soon as possible.”
Reaching across her, Adam fastened her seat belt. He didn’t ask again whether she wanted to cancel the flight. Which was a good thing, because she would have said, Yes, please, yes. As it was, she bit down on her cheek to keep from blurting it out anyway.
Then Lucy appeared across from her, strapping into her seat, handing off her glass to Crash so she could clasp Maddie’s knees.
“I’m right here, sweetie. Adam’s here too.” She gave him an approving smile.
Maddie noticed that he’d laced his fingers through hers. She was gripping so hard, her knuckles were white. “I’m fine,” she repeated through lips gone numb.
Crash nudged Lucy’s arm. “Have some more mimosa, babe.” He gave Maddie a once-over. “You could use some too, Mads.” He held out his own glass.
“That’s thoughtful,” said Adam, “but let’s get up in the air before we challenge her stomach, shall we?”
Then the engines revved. Terror zinged through Maddie. The plane shuddered slightly as it began rolling forward.
She whimpered, she couldn’t help herself. The engines drowned it from everyone but John. He nudged her shin with his nose. Her head was frozen in place, but she dropped her eyes, met his brown ones, full of sympathy and comfort.
She tried not to blame him for luring her onto the plane.
They picked up speed, faster, faster. Then liftoff plastered her head to the seat, glued her eyes shut. Tension tied her muscles into knots, tight enough to cut off blood, choke off air.
Then Adam’s fingers caught her jaw, turned her face toward his.
And he kissed her.
His warm lips centered her. His tongue, when he gave it to her, was real, it was now. It tangled with hers, giving and taking. For a moment or three, she let herself lean in. Let herself lean on him.
Then she opened her eyes and met his, brilliant as cut sapphires and filled with promises and questions more dangerous than any trans-Atlantic flight.
Reluctantly, resolutely, she pulled away, released his hand. “Thanks for the distraction.”
“Is that what it was?” he murmured. “I thought it was a kiss.”
“A distracting kiss. And look at that, it worked.” She jerked a thumb at the window, afraid to actually look out, but conscious of the clouds rushing by. “We’re practically there.”
He smiled, but she had a strong sense he wasn’t happy.
Too bad. One night’s poor judgment didn’t make a relationship. Sure, his body was a wonderland. And he delivered, hands down, The Best Orgasms of her life. So good that she wasn’t ruling out a short, sexy fling in sunny Italy.
But Adam LeCroix, former person of interest and present ruiner of her life, would not be adding boyfriend to his list of offenses.
Henry approached with mimosas. She let Adam pass her a glass. “To distractions,” he said.
She couldn’t argue the point, since they’d reached cruising altitude and she hadn’t crumpled in a faint. But more-than-sex wasn’t happening, and he needed to get that from the get-go.
“To distractions,” she echoed, then let him sip before adding, “as fleeting as they may be.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Vicky: Even if we don’t see eye to eye on something, I will try to understand and respect your position.
Maddie: And then explain why you’re wrong.
BARRELING INTO ADAM’S suite, Maddie flung her hands in the air. “You put them in the other wing! How am I supposed to keep an eye on them?”
“You’re not. They’re consenting adults. They can have sex if they want to. And darling, they want to.”
“Exactly.” She pointed one finger. “They’re doing it right now, and I can’t even find their rooms. This place is a maze.”
“Actually, the layout’s quite simple. The west wing is a mirror image of this one. Lucy’s rooms are where yours are, next to Crash’s. As yours are next to mine.”
“Yeah, what’s with that?” Her fists went to her hips. “Why am I over here on top of you?”
He smiled, slowly.
A flush slid over her cheeks. “Don’t get any ideas,” she said, but her voice was hoarse.
“Too late.” He covered the distance between them until she had to tilt her head to hold him
in her narrow-eyed glare. He ran one fingertip lightly around the shell of her ear, let it trail like a feather along her rigid jaw.
Then he captured her chin between his finger and thumb. Held it still while he lowered his lips.
He half expected her to pull away. Instead, her stormy eyes glazed. Her lips parted under his. And then they were kissing, again, tongues sliding past teeth, finding each other, thrusting and sucking.
She tasted like strawberries. He’d had a bowl of fresh fat ones placed in her rooms, knowing she’d devour them. She was a sensualist, though she tried to deny it.
He’d teach her to accept it. He’d drench her in food and wine and art and all the beauty that was Italy. Make love to her under the stars, in the sea, everywhere.
He’d start in his bedroom, in the moonbeams that streamed through the window.
Drawing his fingers up her arm, over her slender shoulder, he cupped her neck. She was delicate as an orchid, as rare and as lovely. Tonight he’d make love to her, sweet and slow. Take his time, let her feel the connection between them, the tenderness swamping him.
Her fingers touched his waist, and a thrill shivered over his skin, fleeting, intoxicating. He deepened the kiss, giving her his breath, his heart . . .
And she tore at his belt, scraped his zipper down, taking him in her hot little hands. “Got any more of those condoms?” She kicked tenderness to the curb. “Let’s get this done.”
“Maddie, wait.” He didn’t want a quickie. He wanted to make love.
He pulled at her hands but she had a good grip. “What’s the matter, tough guy, not enough foreplay for you?” She threw it out like a challenge while she stroked him relentlessly.
“I thought—”
“Don’t think, just fuck.” She snaked a hand up under his shirt, raked five nails across his ribs while her other hand pumped him toward insanity.
He took a last shot. “Let’s—”
“Let’s not.” She sank her teeth in his pec. Every drop of blood drained straight to his cock.
“Ah, fuck it,” he breathed, and pushed her down on the sofa.
WARM WATER SLUICED over Maddie’s sensitized skin. This Italian shower was even more awesome, with even more showerheads, than the one at the penthouse. A couple of them were removable too. Handy for sex games.
The Wedding Vow Page 16