Taking Maddie’s hand, he dropped the key in her palm.
Silence fell like a brick. Adam’s heart stumbled through three endless beats while Maddie stared down at her hand. Then she lifted stunned eyes to meet his.
“What the hell, Adam?”
“You said you’d learn to drive if I gave you the Bugatti.” He shrugged as if his fate didn’t hang in the balance. “So here it is. No strings attached.”
Her stormy eyes searched his face, slowly, as if details mattered, and he searched hers in return. She’d suffered too. Her hollowed cheeks scraped at his heart. The smudges under her eyes rubbed him raw.
He’d planned to save the car until after they’d reconciled, so she’d understand it was a gift, not a bribe. But the wheels he’d set in motion with his first phone call to Adrianna had brought them to a moment he’d never foreseen, where Maddie’s livelihood was on the line because of him.
So, wisely or not, he’d jumped the gun, certain Adrianna wouldn’t fire her in the face of his regard.
Of Maddie’s reaction, he wasn’t so sure. He waited for it now, breath locked in his lungs, hands balled in his pockets.
Her eyes dropped to her palm. She stroked the key with her thumb.
Then she walked to Tyrell. “Two million,” she said, “will feed a lot of elephants.” And tucking the key in his shirt pocket, she kept walking, up onto the porch and into the house.
The screen door slapped behind her.
Three pairs of eyes turned to Adam. He was hardly aware of them. Every muscle in his body itched to go after her. To make her listen, believe.
But a stronger instinct nailed him to the ground, made him wait and breathe and deal with the wreckage.
Ty dug the key from his pocket, held it out.
Adam shook his head. “It’s hers to do with as she wishes.”
Adrianna started to speak, but he held up a hand. “Not another word. And God help you if Maddie suffers from her connection to me.”
That went down hard, but Adrianna buttoned her lip. With a stiff jerk of the head that passed for a nod, she turned her back and minced toward the house.
Watching her go, Ty let out a low whistle. “Hell’s freezin’ over, and I’m here to see it.” He tipped his head toward the truck. “Hop in. I’ll drive you to Austin.”
“Thanks, but I’ll call for my driver.”
“Then you’ll be waiting a while. Come on inside, have a cold one.”
Adam had a better idea. “I’ll wait on your porch, if you don’t mind.”
“Up to you.” Ty plucked his hat off the truck’s hood, slapped it on his thigh. “Change your mind, beer’s in the fridge.”
On the porch, an empty wine bottle bobbed in a bucket of warm water. Settling into one of the rockers, Adam texted Fredo just in case, then sat back to wait for Maddie.
It wouldn’t be long. His presence on the porch would drive her insane. She’d pace, and she’d stew, and she’d curse under her breath. And eventually, long before Fredo reached Hill Country, she’d erupt like a volcano, exploding out the door to let him have it.
Then he’d lay his heart at her feet, put his fate in her hands. And win her, or lose everything—including his freedom—on one last desperate roll of the dice.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“LOOK AT HIM,” Maddie fumed from her station at the kitchen window, “sitting out there like he owns the place, idly rocking while his minions dance to his tune.”
“Mmm,” Vicky hummed absently. Chopping carrots at the counter, she’d apparently tuned out Maddie’s long-running rant.
Ty stepped into the doorway wearing a hopeful smile. In the window’s reflection, Maddie saw Vicky shake her head. He pivoted and tiptoed away.
Great. LeCroix’s got me bringing down the bride and groom. “That’s it. He’s gotta go.”
She found Ty killing time with his iPad. She stuck out her hand. “Gimme.”
He feigned surprise. “What about the elephants?”
She wiggled her fingers. He dug out the key. She snatched it and stormed out the door.
Adam glanced up as she advanced, no surprise in his eyes. Annoyingly, he looked right at home on the weather-beaten porch, with his Levi’s faded at knees and crotch—the major stress points—and T-shirt packed with pecs, a line of sweat showing between them. Add the finger-combed hair, the stubbly jaw, and he could have been an extremely sexy cowboy relaxing after a hard day busting broncs.
She stuck the key under his nose. “Giddy-up, cowboy. Saddle up and ride.”
He looked at the key, looked at her. And stacked his heels on the rail.
She whacked his thigh with a backhand. “Vamoose. Skedaddle. Hit the trail.”
“I’ll wait. Fredo’s en route.”
“You can meet him halfway.”
“Dom’s with him. And John. I’m sure they’d like to see you.”
Her mouth opened and closed like a guppy. Tears, stupid and treacherous, gathered behind her eyes. She blinked them back, but let herself ask, “How are they?”
He took out his phone, scrolled to a video. She leaned in.
A healthier, heavier John loped across the villa’s green lawn. Off camera, Dom hollered his name as a tennis ball sailed into the frame. John did a one-eighty, leaped . . . and snagged it like a pro.
The camera panned to Dom’s victory dance, then freeze-framed. Maddie realized she was grinning, a renegade tear trickling down one cheek.
Brushing it away, she stepped back. “Good.” She nodded. “They’re good. I’m glad. Now go.”
He pushed the phone in his pocket. “The Bugatti’s already registered in your name.”
The video had blunted her hard edge, but not her resolve. “I can’t accept it.”
“Then sign it over to Tyrell. But before he drives it away, there’s something in the passenger seat you’ll want to see.”
What now? The princess’s emeralds?
She faked disinterest. “Unless it’s the leather pants, I don’t want it.”
His lips curved slightly, a hint of her favorite half smile. “See for yourself. Then you can decide what to do with it.”
She fought a pitched battle with curiosity, and lost. “Fine. Whatever.” She marched to the car, pulled open the door.
Across the passenger seat lay a tubular package, large enough for a rolled-up canvas.
She peeked over her shoulder. Adam rocked slowly, blue eyes unreadable.
Tube under her arm, she strode back to the porch, dropped it across his lap. “Dom would’ve gotten up the guts to give it to you himself. You don’t owe me anything.”
He looked up at her, a strange expression on his face. “Maddie, it’s not the Monet.”
“Then what—Oh!” Sweet Jesus. The blood drained from her head. She staggered back a step.
He was up in an instant, scooping her up, setting her in the chair. “Head between your knees,” he said, gently pushing it down. “You’re all right. I’ve got you.”
Why did that make her feel safe, when he was the reason she was fainting in the first place?
“Is it the Lady in Red?” she mumbled into her lap.
He rubbed circles on her back. “Mmm, yes it is.”
“Why?”
“Because, darling, I love you.”
“So?”
He chuckled, ruefully. “Romantic as ever.”
Romantic? What was romantic about a stolen Renoir?
She sat up slowly. Adam was kneeling beside her at eye level, an unfair advantage for him. She had no choice but to gaze into those dark, dangerous depths.
“Maddie.” His hand on her thigh was also unfair. “Whatever else you think of me, know this. I never meant to hurt you or betray you. The plans for the Matisse had long been laid, and I would’ve explained everything to you the next day. But it was too little, too late, and I’m sorry.”
She wanted to look away, but his gaze mesmerized her.
“What I would’ve told you, if I’d ha
d the chance, is that I have a thing about art.”
She let out a short laugh. “No. You have a thing about sports cars. You have an obsession with art.”
“Call it what you will. Henry has his theories about it. Maribelle too. They may well be right. But the why of it is beside the point.”
His gaze bore into her. “For whatever reason, I care intensely about art. It sickens me when men climb out of the slime, wiping their feet on it to hide their bloody tracks, while the law, Maddie darling, does nothing.”
He sounded so reasonable, so passionate. A thief with a cause.
“Feeling as I do,” he went on, “I have no qualms about stealing art from criminals. And if I get off on the risk, as you astutely observed, I’ll simply point out that the world is full of treasures to steal. If I did it only for the thrill, I’d have expanded my scope.”
“But you haven’t?”
A quick smile flashed. “If I had, you’d have discovered it five years ago. You were frighteningly thorough.”
His smile faded. He took both her hands in his. “I stole the Lady in Red to keep it out of Akulov’s hands. Now I’m putting it—and myself—in yours.”
She didn’t know what to say, what to do. She had him cold; she should be fist-pumping. Instead she wanted to cry.
Why, oh why, had he waited until she wasn’t his attorney to confess?
“I can see your mind working,” he said. “Before you phone the FBI, let me finish.”
“No, don’t say any more.” She shook her head, kept shaking it. “Not another word, Adam, until you have counsel.”
“It’s nothing incriminating, at least not legally. But I have to say what I came here to say.”
He balanced her hands in his palms. His heart shone like diamonds in his eyes. “I can’t change my beliefs for you, Maddie. My moral code. But I can accept that you don’t share them. And I can”—his lips curved—“hang up my cape. I can do that for you. I want to.”
“Why now? Why not a week ago, when it would’ve made all the difference?”
“Because, as you’ve frequently pointed out, I’m an arrogant ass. I assumed you—like everyone else—would recognize the error of your ways and fall into line with the world according to Adam LeCroix.” He huffed out a laugh. “Believe me, it sounded less condescending and egotistical in my head.”
He held her gaze, though it must have been difficult. “In any case, I was wrong. I crossed a line. I can only apologize and promise not to cross it again. I may cross others, and I’ve no doubt you’ll snap me back. But this one, never again.”
She pulled her hands away, scrubbed them over her face. “Jeez, Adam. It’s not as simple as sorry. You just confessed to a crime.”
“Which you’ve known for years I committed.”
“But you said it out loud. I can’t stick my head in the sand.” She jabbed a finger at the tube that had rolled to the floor. “There’s a zillion-dollar painting in there. I can’t hang it in my apartment. I can’t pretend it isn’t stolen.”
She forced her fingers through her hair. “Why do this to me? Why put me in this position?”
“To prove what you mean to me. What I’ll risk for you. After your haunting description, I’d rather not go to jail. And I assure you, I’ll spare no expense to avoid it. But I understand you can turn me in. I understand the risk I’m taking.”
He cupped her face, stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “I’m not the boss of you, Maddie. But I pushed you around, manipulated you, put your back to the wall.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Now, darling, I put my life in your hands.”
And wasn’t that a bitch.
THE AGONY WRITTEN on Maddie’s face almost made Adam regret what he’d done. No matter his intentions, he always seemed to hurt her.
She gave him a hard stare from stormy eyes. “I’m between a rock and a hard place. If I let you walk away with the Lady, I’m an accessory after the fact. If I turn you in, you’re going to jail.” She poked his chest. “Why couldn’t you stay in Italy and leave the Lady out of this?”
He smiled, more confident than he had any right to be. “Because I love you. It’s as simple and as complicated as that. And I trust you. With my life, apparently.”
“Not the smartest thing you’ve ever done.”
Not smart, perhaps, but a leap of faith. He wanted her for his wife, the mother of his children, a partner in all he owned. If she felt half as much for him, she wouldn’t turn him in. She’d accept who he was, believe in his promise. And they’d find a way to deal with the Lady in Red.
Backing away, she took her phone from her pocket, scrolled through her directory, and hit a number.
He tried to hold on to his smile. At least she hadn’t dialed 911.
Then, “Madeline St. Clair for Senator Warren.”
His heart sank like a stone.
“Michael, hi.” A pause. “Yeah yeah, air hug. Listen, you’ve still got connections at the U.S. Attorney’s Office, right?”
Adam stared at the floor. He’d broken her heart, and now she wouldn’t have him.
Crisp and clear she went on, in full lawyer mode. “Good, because I’ve got the Lady in Red. I want to pass her off to you.”
A pause. “No, I don’t know where she’s been. She just turned up on my doorstep.”
Adam lifted his gaze, locked it on hers. The thunderclouds no longer swirled in her eyes. They were steady as steel.
“Don’t think with your dick, Michael. If you implicate LeCroix, the government still has to prove it. And the headlines will be all about how you let him walk the first time.” She listened, smiled a satisfied smile. “That’s right, keep it on the down low. Milk it for favors.”
Adam smiled as she rolled her eyes, made a yakkety-yak motion with her hand as Warren blabbed in her ear.
After a minute, she cut in. “Sure, sure, however you want to handle it. I’ll meet you Monday, at your place.” A pause. “No, not for dinner. I’ll be in touch.”
She ended the call. They gazed at each other.
“Very slick,” he said at last.
“That’s why I get the big bucks.”
He stepped closer. Desire crackled across the narrow space between them. “You made me sweat it out.”
“You deserved it.”
“What if the good senator hadn’t played along?”
“Pfft. You know how much mileage he’ll get from this?”
“And what will you get?”
“Out from between a rock and a hard place.” She eye-walked down his chest, got to the hard place. Her tongue flicked her lips.
The hard place got harder.
She took his hand in her small one, opened his palm, and placed the key in it.
“Maddie, it’s yours.”
“Damn right, and you’re gonna teach me to drive it. But first, let’s go parking.”
His confusion must have shown, because she let out a laugh.
“Parking,” she informed him, “is American for sex in a car.”
TEXAS HILL COUNTRY was ribboned with roads that would serve their purpose. They got no farther than the dirt track behind Ty’s stable, next to a rusted-out baler.
Adam shut off the engine, and she pounced, pawing his T-shirt up over his head so his chest gleamed in the sun. She slicked her hands over it greedily while he dug down into her bra, lifting her tits out like apples, biting and sucking.
It wasn’t enough, not by a mile. He’d surrendered his pride and his heart; now she wanted his body. Around her, inside her. She unbuckled his belt, took him hot and heavy in her hands, in her mouth, as she sprawled across the console.
He had to abandon her breasts, so he went up her skirt instead, palms rough on her ass, fingers delving into panties. The car was a sauna, sweat poured off them like bathwater. She slithered over the console, into his lap, desperate to mount him. But he was too big, everywhere, and the steering wheel was unforgiving. He opened the door and they spilled out half dressed.
&n
bsp; Into the stable they ran, ignoring the horses, the hay bales. A row of six saddles rode a waist-high beam. He bent her over the largest. She waggled her butt, a red flag at a bull, and he tossed up her skirt, yanked down her panties, and drove her up on her toes with one thrust.
She took all of him, gladly, his hands on her hips controlling the action, holding her where he wanted her, giving and taking with each scorching stroke. Foreplay was history; it was all about speed. Faster and harder. Skin slipping and sliding.
She tried to arch up, take back some control, but he was in charge now, one hand on her back, the other reaching around her. Driving her crazy, driving her higher.
She was desperate to touch him, his hard, sweaty chest, his straining arms, but she couldn’t reach him. She twisted her head, but couldn’t see him.
She could only feel him, above her, inside her. So she closed her eyes, met him stroke for stroke, their bodies all that existed, all that mattered. Everything else faded to black, insignificant, irrelevant, as tension built, and muscles clenched . . .
Until the universe, all of it, contracted to eight slippery inches . . . and exploded with a bang.
CHAPTER THIRTY
MADDIE HAD TO admit it. The wedding was actually kind of nice.
It took place during the golden hour, in a meadow dotted with wildflowers. The bride rode to the altar—a century-old pecan tree—on Ty’s favorite horse, Brescia, the setting sun making spun gold of her hair, her simple white gown fluttering in the breeze. The wonder and devotion on Ty’s face as he watched her approach stole Maddie’s breath and erased her last doubts.
He lifted her from the saddle, then passed the reins to a beaming Dom. Maddie stepped forward with Vicky’s bouquet, going up on her toes to kiss her friend’s cheek. Then she stepped back to stand with Adam, part of the small circle of family and friends that closed around the bride and groom.
Most of them, Maddie already knew. Ty’s brother, Cody, stood up as best man, his brand new wife, Julie, beside him. Vicky’s brother, Matt, was there too, with his wife, Isabelle. And Ty’s best friend, Jack McCabe, looked on benignly, while his wife, Lil, bounced their baby on her shoulder.
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