“I can’t do that. We connected, Ramsey.”
His mother spent too much time cooped up on the hillside. With his stepfather in need of constant help, she rarely travelled to town. So she welcomed any stranger into their home. “What did she want?”
“She questioned me about our family, and the curse.”
He sat up, then rubbed the back of his neck, frustrated in too many ways to count. “She knows more about our private affairs than we do.” He pictured his mother with a cat-ate-the-canary smile. She enjoyed making him uncomfortable.
“Are you saying she’s not to be trusted?”
He didn’t want to ruin Madison’s reputation; he just wanted her to go away. “No. She’s very motivated, claims if she gets an interview with me it will help advance her career.”
“Maybe you should take her to dinner.”
I already took her to bed. “I believe there’s a fundamental incompatibility, we’d never make it through the appetizers.”
“I raised you to be a gentleman. And Lord knows how many reporters have chased after you. I believe her interest is deeper than professional curiosity. Don’t be so quick to dismiss a girl who braved the drive out here.”
Oh he wouldn’t dismiss her; he planned on confronting her. She took advantage of his mother and him. “I’ll think about it. Is dad well?”
“Comfortable and watching James Bond movies.”
“Chancellor?”
“At basketball practice.”
“You?” he asked again. His mother rarely talked about herself.
“Do you even need to ask?”
“Good night, Mother, I love you.”
“I love you, too, Ramsey.”
He disconnected and looked at his watch. Eight thirty. Where would he go on a Monday night if he were a hot, single female who got caught in a lie with a guy she just slept with? Since Madison didn’t strike him as the kind to stay home and binge on Haggen Dazs, he decided to check Main Street. All the bars in Opposition City were regulated to downtown by zoning laws. It made his job easier as a cop. Unless she hung out at five star hotels, then he’d have to drive to the airport.
He trudged upstairs and changed into black jeans, a ribbed T-shirt, and cowboy boots. Once he shut down Madison’s game, maybe he’d find someone to spend quality time with in bed.
He checked the usual hangouts, and then finally ended up at Kramer’s, a pizza joint with a fully stocked bar and dart boards in the back. He ordered a beer and slowly walked through the crowd, casually searching. Much to his disappointment, no Madison. All right, he’d have to break a couple rules. He sucked down his drink and threw the empty longneck in a nearby trash can as he left the bar. Then he climbed in his car and dialed police dispatch.
Tanner answered on the second ring. “Detective De Wolfe,” she said in that southern drawl that drove him crazy. “What can I do to you?”
Ramsey couldn’t help but laugh. The older woman had been crushing on him for six years. “If you don’t watch it, Smith, I’ll file a sexual harassment complaint.”
“Please,” she said. “If I didn’t sweet talk you, you’d think something was wrong.”
“You’re entirely correct.” He chuckled again. “Can you run a name for me? I need an address and phone number.”
“On or off the record?”
She knew him too well. Breaking with departmental policy was a necessary evil sometimes. “Off,” he said. “The name is Madison Blake. She lives at the Burgess Apartments.
“Hold on,” Tanner said.
A few minutes later he had Madison’s information. He drove to her complex and parked out front, then called her.
“This is Madison,” she said.
“Ms. Blake,” Ramsey used his professional voice. “We need to talk.”
“Ramsey?” she asked, completely surprised. “How did you get my number?”
“I have ways.”
“Right,” she said. “The cop thing.”
“I’m very resourceful.”
“And very rude,” she added.
Ramsey swallowed before he replied. “You’re in no position to call me names, Ms. Blake. If I weren’t a gentleman, I could think of a couple choice tags for you.” He slid out of his car and started walking toward her building.
“Did you call to argue, or is there a legitimate reason you made contact with me after what you told me Saturday morning?”
Ramsey spotted the number three on the two-story, wood structure with faded and chipped blue paint. Music blared from someone’s stereo in the next building. She shouldn’t live here. He climbed the stairs. “You visited my mother today.”
Dead silence followed. Then he heard an indiscriminate shit.
“Yes,” she admitted. “I regret it, believe me.”
He paused at her front door, not expecting her to say that. “Why?”
“Believe it or not, Detective De Wolfe, my intentions are pure. I am truly interested in your family’s history. I’m not after your money or whatever outlandish accusations you can come up with.”
The tightness in her voice suggested she was telling the truth, or half-truths anyway. He knocked.
“Is that all you wanted to hear?” she asked. “Someone just knocked on my door, I need to go.”
“I’ll wait,” he offered.
“O-okay.”
The door opened and Madison’s delectable mouth twisted into a scowl. She was wearing a pair of shorts, sports bra, and fluffy blue socks. Ramsey tucked his phone in his pocket.
All of his patience dissolved. “Do you always answer the door half naked?” he growled. “This complex is infested with felons.”
“Do you always show up unannounced at women’s homes you fuck and dump the next day?” Her green eyes narrowed and she thrust her hand on her hip.
His gaze wandered down her toned little body, drawn to the spot between her legs, where he’d been buried balls-deep a couple nights ago. Fuck. “Are you going to invite me in, or do you want me to interrogate you here so the whole world knows what you’re about?”
She lifted her finger to her lips to shush him.
“This is official police business, Ms. Blake.”
“You’re such a douche bag,” she complained as she stepped aside.
Ramsey entered her apartment, surprised by Madison’s good taste. The other units he’d frequented here were typically filthy or cluttered, with drab white walls, thread-bare furniture, and a pile of unwashed dishes in the sink. She’d obviously taken the time to paint, the combination dining-living room a warm spring green. The far wall was nothing but oak shelves crammed with books. A flat screen TV and i-Pad dock were to the left of the shelves on an entertainment hutch. A chocolate-colored leather couch positioned in the middle of the space, separated the living room from the eating area.
He always memorized the details of his environment.
“What do you want, Detective De Wolfe?” she emphasized his name.
He gazed at her, his erection providing the real answer. “Let me make myself clear, Madison. I don’t want you harassing my family or associates. There’s stalking laws on the books for a reason.”
“Stalking?” She stepped in front of him. “You think I’m following you?”
“Too early to tell,” he said dispassionately. “But if we can reach some kind of understanding, I’ll forget any of this ever happened.”
“Including sex?”
“Especially that.” He didn’t mean it. She’d been on his mind continuously for the last seventy-two hours. And if he could, he’d fuck her again right now. Bent over the breakfast bar or in the middle of her living room. Anywhere, as long as he could feel her wrapped tight around him again. He gritted his teeth, desire coursing through his veins.
“You bastard,” she said. “Visiting your mother and enjoying a glass of lemonade and friendly conversation isn’t a crime. In fact, it’s none of your business. You can’t stand it because you’re not in control. That’s your p
roblem, Detective. I like Claire. And we planned a luncheon next week. So why don’t you take your shiny little tin badge and those ridiculous cowboy boots and go find another woman to hunt.”
Precisely. De Wolfe men hunted women. They didn’t second guess their actions. “As soon as I’m done here, that’s exactly what I planned on doing.”
Madison slapped his face on a gasp, then retreated a few steps, looking as shocked as he felt.
The sting didn’t faze him as he closed the distance between them and gripped her by the arms. “Don’t ever make that mistake again,” he roared, filled with rage and something else he couldn’t name.
“Don’t ever tell me you’re going to sleep with another woman.”
As if on cue, their mouths crashed together, the kiss as dangerous and revealing as their argument. Ramsey growled, then cupped her ass cheeks, lifting her. Madison locked her ankles behind his back, her fingernails clawing at his temples. He shoved her against the closest wall, grinding angrily against her, their tongues dueling for control. Fuck everything he’d said before. Madison brought out the beast in him.
He broke the kiss and lowered her so her feet touched the floor. Words weren’t necessary, the gleam in her eyes told him what he needed to know. He ripped her silky shorts off, finding no panties underneath. He eyed her pussy, then licked his lips in shameless hunger. He wanted to taste her so bad, but his dick screamed for relief.
She shivered, meeting his intense stare. Her green eyes were unusually dark and suggestive. Instinct took over, and he tugged her into his arms, her head met his chest. It felt right holding her. It wasn’t supposed to feel so fucking perfect. But it did. Ramsey shook it off and spun her around, then marched her across the room to the breakfast bar. He guided her hands to the edge of the counter, then nudged her legs apart with his knee. That’s how he wanted to see her—spread before him like a feast, that perfect back arched and those delicate hands gripping the counter for support while he hammered inside her.
He unbuttoned his Levis, clenching his jaw as he wrapped his hand around his throbbing shaft. She gazed over her shoulder, silent and curious. A wolfish grin spread across his face as he cupped her pussy from behind. His middle finger slid inside her, the velvety, wet warmth as unforgiving as his heart. She screamed his name as he sunk another finger in, priming her for first entry. Unable to control himself any longer, he withdrew his fingers, gripped her by the hips, bent his knees, and penetrated her in one possessive stroke.
Paradise choked his cock like a pair of hands. Feelings hit him in the gut. It intensified everything, the way he felt inside her, the need to make her orgasm, and the desire to never let her go. From the moment he spotted her on stage, he wanted her. More than any other woman. And when he caught other men ogling her, dreaming of fucking her too, he wanted to destroy them.
He fisted her long blond mane, the fragrant softness surrounded him. He pumped faster, and she stood on her toes to accommodate his height. Desperation turned into determination. Hearing her scream his name while she came turned him on. With a last tremendous thrust, she let go, taking Ramsey with her.
He hugged her, one hand cupping her breast. After several minutes, she finally broke the silence.
“You fucked me in fuzzy socks again.”
He chuckled. “Becoming a habit I think.”
She relaxed then, and let go of the counter. Ramsey pulled out of her, at a loss for words. She turned, the look on her face unreadable.
“What just happened?” she asked.
“The inevitable,” he replied, rounding the breakfast bar to find something in the kitchen to clean up with.
“Inevitable?” she questioned.
He grabbed a handful of paper towels, turned on the faucet, and wet them. “Did you really think we could stay away from each other, Madison?” He turned off the water, then returned to her side, knelt in front of her, and gently wiped his semen from between her legs.
After he finished with her, he stood and did the same to himself. “I didn’t want to use your dish towels,” he teased. “Where’s the trash can?”
“In the cabinet, underneath the sink,” she directed.
Madison followed him into the kitchen.
“I apologize for what I said.” Ramsey’s temper hadn’t flared in a long time. Not with a woman. “I still don’t understand why you lied to me the other night. But maybe we should agree to forget about it if we’re going to keep doing this.”
“I’m sorry I slapped you.” She looked positively ashamed.
“No.” He lifted her chin. “I deserved it.”
“But we hate each other,” she said. “I don’t understand…”
“Hate?” Again he forced her to look him directly in the eyes. “I don’t believe that at all. Lust and passion can easily be misconstrued as hate, I think. Everything gets jumbled up inside, and when it’s ready to unleash, get the fuck out of the way.”
She nodded, but he knew she felt vulnerable. “I want you to know something, Ramsey.”
“I’m listening.”
“I didn’t tell you I knew who you were because I was embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed of what, baby?”
“Would you have bought me a drink if you knew I was a De Wolfe junkie?”
He tried not to smile. But no woman had ever expressed her feelings in such an adorable way. “I’m addicted to you too, Madison.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m being perfectly serious, Ramsey. My master degree thesis centered on you. Doesn’t that make you uncomfortable?”
“Hell no.” He embraced her and stroked her hair. “It’s the ultimate compliment.”
“I think we should take the time to consider our next move,” she said. “Sex with you is amazing, but I can’t risk my heart, Ramsey. Not with you. I know what the consequences are if we keep seeing each other.”
Her words hit Ramsey hard. “The curse?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t change the past.”
“I know. That’s what hurts the most,” she said. “Knowing you can never fall in love raises all kinds of warning flags.”
Ramsey stepped back, knowing there was nothing he could say or do to convince her otherwise. As much as he wanted her, she spoke the truth. De Wolfe men couldn’t fall in love and get married like other people did. “Are you asking me to stay away from you?”
A tear slid down her cheek. “Yes.”
He sucked in a breath and zipped his pants. Their bittersweet reunion had done nothing but complicate things. “All right, Madison.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll try.”
Chapter Ten
MADISON ARRANGED TO take a few days off from the museum. She just couldn’t face anyone. And being surrounded by De Wolfe artifacts only deepened her pain. Her interlude with Ramsey had hollowed out a larger section of her heart. He’d tried to contact her several times, but she ignored her cell phone. Her father called yesterday, and she didn’t even answer for him. Now it was Friday night and she wondered how she’d make it through three sets of high octane rock and roll when she couldn’t even force herself to smile.
Grateful to have the dressing room to herself, she stared in the mirror, her makeup and hair perfect. Tonight she chose to wear a low cut, black mini dress with strappy high heels. Shoes Ramsey would deem worthy of his shoulder. That thought made her smile. How could she deny how good he made her feel? Yes, they’d only known each other a short time, but sometimes fate threw people together for a reason. Time didn’t matter.
Her conversation with Claire De Wolfe may not have provided the answers she sought, but it opened her eyes. Liking Ramsey was safe, but falling in love with him would only make her miserable. In some strange way she envied his ability to resist love. It kept him strong. But the emotions swirling around inside her stomach made her weak. Part of her wanted to give up and run home to Lexington. She’d find comfort with her family.
Someone knocked on the door. “Madison,” Anzio called. “F
ive minutes until your set.”
“Okay,” she said.
She took a deep breath, then left the dressing room, ready to go. The house band announced her and Madison joined them on stage. Applause sounded and she didn’t miss a note on her rendition of Gwen Stefani’s Spark the Fire. She made it through two more songs, avoiding direct eye contact with the audience. Singing usually lifted her spirits, but tonight she’d added a new tune to the playlist. One intended to help purge her heart. The music for Always Somewhere by the Scorpions began, and thoughts of Ramsey invaded her mind. As she’d intended, the lyrics hit hard, words meant for Ramsey’s ears alone.
The smoky beat mesmerized her, and she swayed her hips, the overhead lights flashed red and blue, the occasional burst from the strobe made her dizzy. “I’ll love you again…” She sang with precision vibrato, finding herself meeting a pair of familiar eyes at the closest table to the stage.
Dressed in a black suit and red tie, with his hands steepled under his chin, Ramsey De Wolfe looked devastatingly handsome. Instead of fleeing, Madison slung the words at him, positioning herself at the edge of the stage. “Always somewhere…” The drum solo drowned out her last line, and she threw her head back, letting the beat wash over her.
Seeing him again, threatened to shut her down completely. But she refused to lose it on stage or in front of him. The music ended and she took a bow, her first set over. Without a word to the band, she disappeared behind the black curtain that sheltered the hallway that led to her dressing room from the audience. She raced for the door, her heart beating wildly, her eyes wet with tears.
Damn Ramsey for violating their agreement to stay away while she figured out what to do. “Take back your heart,” she said to her reflection in the mirror. She wiped the smudge of mascara from underneath her left eye with a tissue, then crumpled it up, and threw it in the nearby trash can.
A shot of Jose Cuervo and a few stern words for Ramsey would fix things. She walked with confidence to the main room where Ramsey had been seated, only to find him gone. The waitress Missy was clearing the table.
“Where did Ramsey go?” Madison asked, probably sounding too desperate.
Romancing the de Wolfe Collection: Contemporary Romance Bundle Page 14