His jaw hardened. “I do justice my way, Maddie. The law’s your crutch, not mine.”
“So you write your own rules.”
“While you blindly follow others’.” He pointed a finger. “Your law sets too high a bar. Too many slide under it. Men like Rosales. Men like your father.”
Inside, she shook, but she held herself straight as steel. “Speaking of fathers, you’ve done a great job with your son.”
With a snap of her wrists, she unfurled the Monet.
He stared at it, stricken. “Not Dom.”
“Yes, Dom. He wanted your attention.” She laughed, and it was an ugly sound. “You must be so proud. Apples don’t fall far from the tree.” She let the canvas slide to the floor. “He loves you right down to his DNA. Try not to fuck him up any more than you already have.”
Turning her back, she walked to the door. “Don’t come after me, Adam. I never want to see you again.”
THE SHAKING WORSENED as Maddie strode down the hall. On autopilot, she entered her suite, threw personal items into her purse—passport, toothbrush, phone—and strode out again. One foot in front of the other.
She held herself together as she crossed the lawn onto Maribelle’s terrace and stepped inside. She didn’t knock or announce herself. Why bother, when Maribelle stared at her, white-faced, from inside the glass.
Maddie passed by her wordlessly, on a march to the stairs. She found Dom curled on the bed with John, weeping into the dog’s patchy fur.
Calling up reserves from God knew where, she made herself breathe normally as she sat down beside him. The boy’s swollen eyes peered up at her, waiting for the axe to fall.
“He’s not mad,” she said, praying it was true. “He’s glad you came clean, and he loves you.”
“H-he loves me?” Awe erased anguish from his eyes.
“Mmm-hmm.” She’d like to tell the boy Adam’s love meant something, but how could she, when he’d just proven otherwise?
She stroked Dom’s hair, thick and black and soft as his father’s. “Sweetie, something came up. I’ve got to get back to New York right away.”
Dom sat up straight. “Is Papa going too? Can I come?”
“I’m flying solo on this one. I’m sure your dad will take you next week, like he said he would.” Fingers crossed.
“What about John?”
She flicked a glance at Maribelle, leaning against the doorjamb, then looked hard at Dom, used her serious voice. “John’s your dog now. That’s a big responsibility. Are you up for it?”
He nodded gravely. “I’ll take good care of him. And I’ll keep teaching him to catch. We’ll show you next week, okay?”
Her throat closed. God help her, she’d fallen in love with both of them. All three, counting John.
Maribelle stepped into the room. “Honey, Maddie has to go. You and John go to sleep now, okay?”
Maddie rose, leaving half her heart on the bed, dripping lifeblood as she walked away.
Downstairs, Maribelle said, “Adam called. He told me what happened.”
“But you knew most of it already, didn’t you?” Even Maribelle’s betrayal stung.
“Not about the Monet. Jesus. Dom’s a computer prodigy, but it never crossed my mind.” She rubbed her forehead, then pushed it aside and focused on Maddie. “What’re you going to do?”
“Call a cab for the airport and get the fuck out of here.”
Maribelle picked up her purse. “I’ll drive you. It’s the least I can do.”
The black Mercedes looked liked a Saudi sheik’s car. “Armored,” Maribelle said. “Sucks gas like a jet.”
Maddie sank into the cushy seat, in no mood for small talk. As they wound down the mountain, she stared out the windshield at the neighboring villas, warm light spilling from their windows. Nice happy homes.
Ha.
She’d forgotten for a moment that there was no such thing. That was her first mistake.
The next—the biggest—was entrusting her darkest secret to Adam. Not because he’d breach her confidence—he wouldn’t—but because he’d pried open her heart. She’d let him inside, let herself feel protected, cared for.
And like a rookie, she’d fallen in love.
Then in less than a day, he’d shown his true colors, the ones she’d known were underneath all along. He’d spit on what mattered to her. Asked her to abandon her principles. To understand, even applaud him.
The arrogant ass.
“Maddie?”
“What?” Couldn’t she at least brood in peace?
“Adam’s thing about art. It’s complicated, but the quick and dirty is that his parents put art ahead of him, their own son.” She spoke quickly, as if expecting to be cut off. “So he has no choice but to believe it’s more important than anything. Otherwise, he’d have to accept that he had no value to his parents.”
Maddie faked awe. “Gee, Maribelle, you understand him so well. I’m surprised you two aren’t a happy couple.”
“I understand him now. I banged my head against the wall for years before I got help.”
“So this is secondhand therapy? No thanks.”
“You’re as stubborn as he is.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere.”
Maribelle snorted a laugh. “What a bitch. Why don’t I hate you? You hooked the man I wanted, and you didn’t even have to try. You captured Dom’s heart in five minutes flat. Dumped a dog in my pristine home.”
“Go ahead, hate me. See if I care.”
“I can’t.” Maribelle shrugged one slender shoulder. “You accomplished a miracle. You opened Adam’s eyes to his incredible son.”
“Pfft. I shoved him down Adam’s throat until he had to swallow.”
“It worked, didn’t it? Until you came along and shook him up, Adam was repeating the pattern that started with his parents, playing it out again with his own son.” She reached out and grasped Maddie’s hand. “I don’t want you to leave. You’re just what our dysfunctional family needs.”
Maddie’s heart beat painfully. She’d been ready to jump into that family with both feet.
She extracted her hand. “Thanks, but I’ve already got one of my own.”
They turned onto the main road, began winding along the coast.
“By the way, where’re we going?”
“Milan. It’s a ride. You can sleep if you want to.”
Fat chance. But she could pretend, which would at least shut Maribelle down. Who knew she’d be an Adam-apologist?
But first she dug out her phone, scrolled until she found Brandt’s number. “Madeline St. Clair,” she said briskly to his voice mail. “The Monet’s been recovered. We’re withdrawing the claim. As of now, I no longer represent Mr. LeCroix. Any further communication should be through his in-house counsel at LeCroix Enterprises.”
Tossing her phone back into her purse, she muttered, “Have a nice day,” and closed her eyes to “sleep.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
ADAM GOT GERARD on the phone and grilled him like a steak. “What car did they take? What airport are they heading for? Do you have them on GPS?”
“They’re in the Mercedes. GPS shows them heading for Milan. They should arrive in time for Alitalia’s midnight flight.”
“Listen to me, Gerard.” Adam paced as he spoke. “Maddie’s not a good flier. I want someone on the flight with her, to monitor her. Make it a woman. No contact unless necessary, you understand?” He scrubbed his face with one hand. “And see that she’s upgraded to first class. Come up with a ruse. She can’t know I’m behind it.”
“I understand.”
“I want to know the minute she checks in. I want her flight number, all the details.”
“You’ll have them.”
Adam hit end and drilled the phone like a fastball at the sofa. “Fuck me.” He kicked the desk hard, creasing the wood with his steel-toed boot.
“Assaulting the furniture won’t bring her back,” Henry said from well outside punchin
g range.
“I don’t have to bring her back. She’ll come back on her own.” But he wasn’t sure of that, not at all. The hurt in her eyes . . . he couldn’t accept that he’d done that to her, that his arrogance had jeopardized everything.
He fell back on belligerence. “She was startled, that’s all. She’ll come to her senses.”
Henry’s laugh was incredulous. “Are we talking about the same woman? Because the Maddie I know will see you in hell before she walks through that door.” He shook his head in disgust. “You fucked it up, Adam, you arrogant ass.”
Fear clutched his chest. He strode to the couch for his phone, dialed Gio, filled him in. “I want someone outside her apartment. I want to know when she arrives, when she leaves, where she goes. Round the clock, every move.”
“Phone tap?” Gio asked. “Photographs?”
“No, no. Don’t invade her privacy, for God’s sake. I’m not spying on her.” His fingers raked his hair. “I just need to know she’s all right.”
“I’m on it,” said Gio, and disconnected.
“It’s a fine line,” said Henry, “between keeping an eye on her and spying. She’s not likely to discern the difference.”
“She won’t find out.”
“Like she didn’t find out about tonight?”
“That was a mistake. One Maribelle will answer for.”
“She couldn’t have foreseen this, Adam. She didn’t know Dom had the Monet, or that Maddie, bless her heart, would race over here with it.”
Adam threw himself down on the sofa. “Why couldn’t she leave it till morning?” His anger was unjustified, but there was so much of it, he had to put it somewhere.
“That’s simple enough. She did it so your son wouldn’t carry it on his heart another night. So she could go back and tell him his father forgives him and loves him above all things.”
He was right, of course. It earned him a glare.
Henry crossed his arms. “I’ll stake my next paycheck that’s what she did. Put aside her own broken heart to mend his, while you sit here feeling sorry for yourself.”
He was right about that too.
Rising, Adam heaved a steadying breath. “I’ll go talk to him.”
“Remember,” Henry added, “it’s not the boy’s fault Maddie left you.”
“Maddie hasn’t left me. She’s upset, that’s all. As for Dom, I can’t allow him to think stealing’s an acceptable way to make his point.”
Henry simply raised his brows.
Adam dropped his eyes, and his shoulders. “Don’t worry, I know who’s to blame. For the Monet. And for Maddie.”
ADAM’S PHONE JARRED him from a thousand-yard stare. Slumped at his desk, he’d been awake all night.
“Talk to me, Gio.”
“She hasn’t shown up at her apartment.”
He sat bolt upright. “She should’ve been there two hours ago. Where is she?”
“We’re looking into it. She could’ve hopped another flight. A train, a bus, a cab. She could be at a hotel. We’re just getting started.”
“Lucy’s staying at the penthouse. What did she say?”
“We haven’t spoken to her yet.”
“Goddamn it, Gio! Do your fucking job!”
“Mr. LeCroix, sir. It’s six in the morning in New York. I didn’t want to alarm Ms. St. Clair’s sister. I told my man on the ground not to disturb her until seven.”
Adam took a breath. “Okay. All right.” He paced to the window, stared down at the pool, sparkling under the noontime sun. “Track her credit card. Cash machines.”
“We’re on all those things.”
“I’ll talk to Maribelle. Maddie might’ve said something to her.” He drove a hand through his hair. “Stay in touch, Gio. Close touch.”
MARIBELLE GREETED HIM with a cocked brow and half smile. “Rough night?”
He stepped into her living room, a place he’d always hated, but that now seemed oddly comforting. Dom lived here. So did John, apparently.
And Maddie had been here only last night.
“She’s missing,” he said, facing Maribelle. “She never showed up at her apartment.”
“I’m not surprised.”
Or terribly concerned, by the looks of it. But why would she care? She’d hate Maddie in proportion to how much Adam loved her.
She lifted the phone. “Gisele, coffee please. For two.” To Adam, “Let’s take it out on the terrace.”
“This isn’t a social call.”
“Dom’s upstairs with Roland. He doesn’t need to hear this, does he?”
How irritating that everyone else was so sensible while he was coming apart at the seams.
He followed her outside, paced while she sat at a café table under a purple awning. Gisele brought the coffee. Maribelle poured two cups.
“Thanks for coming to see Dom last night.”
He snapped at her. “You needn’t thank me for visiting my own son.”
“All right then, I’m glad you came. He was happy this morning. The Monet must’ve weighed on him.”
She was determined to be reasonable in the face of his bad temper. So be it. He could be civil too.
“I regret it came to that,” he said, stiffly. “He shouldn’t have had to commit a felony to get my attention.”
“No, he shouldn’t. But in a weird way, it worked. So let’s just appreciate the irony and move on.”
She smiled, damn her black heart.
He couldn’t hold out against it. He was that desperate for comfort. Pulling out the other chair, he folded himself onto its lady-sized frame. “You’ve done well by him, Maribelle. With precious little help from me.”
“He’s a great kid, in spite of us both.” She lifted her coffee, an air toast. “Now, about Maddie. You really fucked that up, Adam.”
“She overreacted, that’s all.” He picked up his coffee, set it down without tasting it. “She’ll see that, in time.”
Maribelle shook her head. “No. You fucked it up. And before you think I’m crowing, I’ll tell you that I tried to talk her into staying.”
He let his doubt show.
“She’s good for you, Adam.” She spread her palms. “You’re sitting here, right? Would either of us have imagined this last week?”
“I thought you might be jealous of her.” He felt foolish admitting it, but her openness disarmed him.
“I am jealous of her, but not how you mean.” She laughed, sounding almost carefree. “She can have your ornery ass, I’m not interested anymore. What I’m jealous of is how she stands up to you.” She pointed a finger at him. “You’re not the boss of her.”
He looked down at his cup, sitting in a puddle on the saucer. He’d sloshed coffee over the rim, uncharacteristically clumsy of him. But then he was a mess, wasn’t he? He’d been telling himself Maddie would get over it, but even he wasn’t buying it.
Maribelle was right; he’d fucked up royally.
“What should I do?” he heard himself say.
“Let her go.”
He looked up. “But I love her.”
“Then quit trying to control her. And”—she pointed her finger again—“respect what matters to her. She made herself swallow the fact that you used to steal. But when you committed to a relationship, you as good as promised that you wouldn’t do it again. That you wouldn’t do anything that crossed one of her big, bright lines.”
She leaned back in her chair. “What did you say to her when she found you?”
He made himself speak the truth. “That she used the law as a crutch. Mindlessly followed rules.” And he’d dragged her father into it, hadn’t he? He dropped his head in his hands.
Silence met his confession, a long, pregnant pause that left his mind free to turn on itself, guns blazing. He’d crossed Maddie’s lines, all right, and then he’d belittled them. Belittled her because she’d caught him, embarrassed him, disagreed with him. And what was that but an attempt to control her through disparagement?
Well, she’d had plenty of experience with that in her youth. She’d had no trouble recognizing a bully when she saw one.
Maribelle let him stew while she sipped her coffee. Then she said, plainly, “People fuck up. They say—and do—stupid things when they’re in love. Colossally stupid, self-centered, thoughtless things. Some they do in the name of love, some in spite of it.”
She was right, of course. Apparently, she’d spent the last ten years becoming more enlightened, while he’d become more entrenched in his arrogance.
He managed to meet her eyes. “I’m sorry, Maribelle. I should’ve forgiven you long ago.”
She shrugged. “I did a horrible thing. It took me years to forgive myself. Don’t wait that long, Adam. Forgive yourself now and go make things right with Maddie.”
Humility was an uncomfortable new suit. “I don’t know how.”
“Make what’s important to her important to you. Put her first. If you love her, that should be easy.”
The easiest thing in the world, now that his head was on straight.
But first, he had to find her.
“SHE TOOK FIVE thousand from her bank account,” Gio said, “Times Square branch, at nine o’clock this morning. Then she disappeared. Her sister hasn’t heard from her. Neither has her employer. I tracked down her best friend, Victoria Westin. She denied contact, as did the veterinarian.”
“Credit card?” Adam asked, though he knew she was too smart for that. “Cell phone?”
“She hasn’t used either. I don’t expect she will, until she’s ready to be found.” Gio paused. “Maribelle had nothing to add?”
“She says she doesn’t know where Maddie is. I believe her.”
Maribelle also said he should stop trying to control her. He rubbed his burning eyes. Who’d have thought he’d be taking relationship advice from Maribelle? Life’s ironies were coming at him fast and furious.
“Let it go, Gio.”
“Sir?”
“Call off the search. Drop it completely.”
Adam ended the call. Gazed out the window at Portofino, the setting sun winking off windows, sparkling on the water like twinkle lights. In the harbor, boats bobbed at anchor. A yacht slid soundlessly over the sea, heading for open water.
Twenty-four hours ago, he’d been on top of the world, his life as he wanted it just beginning. He was in love, and it was glorious.
The Wedding Vow Page 28