“It’s going to be about forty five degrees tomorrow. You’d freeze your feet off.” He pulled the door closed gently, but still heard Ivy’s valiant objection through the timber.
“Would not! I like the cold!”
Just like her mother had. He took the steps two at a time, and turned left into the kitchen. The sun had set hours earlier, but beyond his front yard, the moon cast a milky dye over the ocean. It rippled in the wind, making silver threads arc through the water. In the very far distance, he could make out the town’s lighthouse, and beyond it, a couple of trawlers on the high seas.
He thought of Sally considerably less than he should.
He reached for a can of beer with a frown, and a deep sense of guilt. It was wrong, so wrong, that he thought of Madeline more frequently than the woman who’d given him a daughter, and died because of it.
He tilted his head back and drank half the can, then pressed a palm flat against the bench and stared out at the ocean.
Was she still in town? He would have heard if that old bastard had died. Meaning she was probably there. In the big white ranch on the outskirts of Whitegate. Within ten miles of his home, but she might as well be in another galaxy.
She was married.
He’d heard about it at the time. It had been all over the papers, and the gossips of the town had been barely able to contain their excitement. Her husband was some big shot congressman, supposedly a future presidential candidate. It made sense.
Everything about the damned marriage made sense.
More sense than they ever had. He finished the beer, scrunched the can up and tossed it haphazardly into the recycling box. It was cold out, with winter giving a solid hint of the cold that was in store.
He grabbed another beer and headed for the front stoop. His jacket was over the coat rack; he paused only to shrug it on.
As he breathed, fogs of white breath puffed from his lips. He stared at the moonlight, and concentrated with all his might on not thinking about Madeline.
She was so far in the past, she shouldn’t occupy his mind in the way she did. And yet, with each sip of beer, her face became clearer and clearer in his mind. Seeing her at the beach had shaken him to the core.
Hell.
Since they’d been briefly engaged, he’d met Sally. He’d had a baby, and farewelled Sally. For near on six years, he’d been raising Ivy as a single man, and he’d had barely a moment to think about women. But seeing Maddie again had made him understand. She’d always been there. Lurking in his mind, hovering in his memories, making him aware of just how his life could never be perfect.
Because she was married.
Happily married, if the Goddamned pictures were to be believed.
He closed his eyes and breathed in, as though he could bring her scent and image to mind. She’d been perfect. So perfectly groomed, untouchably regal, that he’d been afraid to go too near her.
How had she left him, and married so quickly? He shook his head. If she hadn’t, he wouldn’t have got drunk and slept with Sal. He wouldn’t have Ivy. And Ivy was the greatest gift in his life. Whatever had been between him and Madeline, he wouldn’t change a thing if it meant not having Ivy. He set the beer aside, and ran a hand through his hair.
Madeline would leave again, and he could get on with pretending she didn’t exist.
When a small silver convertible pulled up in front of his house, and Madeline stepped out, he wondered for a moment if he’d somehow conjured her out of the nothingness with the sheer force of his concentration.
She was wearing jeans, but not comfortable jeans like he spent most of his days in. These were clearly expensive, fitted to her slim frame like a glove. She’d teamed them with a black roll neck and a light brown jacket. The moment she straightened from the vehicle, her eyes met his.
And he felt as though he’d been shocked by a mega volt of electricity. His whole body seemed to thrum with awareness. Remembered pleasure, and impossible to forget pain.
Madeline crossed her hands across her chest, holding herself tight in the mid section, and Harrison guessed she felt it too.
He cleared his throat and stood, walking with slow determination towards her.
“What are you doing here, Maddie?”
She was quiet. Her eyes scanned his face, her mouth slightly parted, as she seemed to be fighting for breath. “I…” She closed her eyes for a fraction of a second. “I… wanted to see you. May I… I mean… I don’t want to interrupt, of course. May I come in for a moment?”
Harrison didn’t budge. He crossed his own arms across his muscled chest and glared at her. “Why?”
Oh, the anger. How his body reverberated with anger at her. Eight years and he still felt blindsided by the way she’d left him, only hours after making him the happiest man on earth.
She uncrossed her arms and took a deep breath, appearing to calm herself. “I think we should talk.”
“Talk?” He looked at her with abject confusion. “Why?”
Madeline felt like an idiot. This had seemed so simple, from the quiet desolation of the ranch. Now that she was here, looking at the beautiful little home he shared with his wife and child, Madeline felt like an object out of time.
“I’m going to be in town a while, Harrison.” She shrugged, as though the effort wasn’t killing her. “I don’t want it to be awkward.”
“Town’s a big ol’ place, Maddie. It doesn’t have to be awkward if we don’t see each other.”
She swallowed hard, and lanced his eyes with her own. “Is that what you want?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “What?”
“Do you want me to go? Do you really want to never see me again?”
He narrowed his glorious eyes. “You’ve been gone eight years, Madeline. What makes you think I haven’t got used to that?”
“Because….” Her heart was heavy. She had no right to look at him and want him as she did. He had a family. She couldn’t expect him to give her the time of day. “You’re right.” She nodded thickly. “It was just a stupid thought.”
She reached down for the handle to her car door, but Harrison swore and reached for it first. Their hands connected and Madeline felt a searing wave of desire spread through her, thick and fast. She jumped, and guiltily pulled her hand away. Her eyes flew to his face, and she could see that he had felt it too.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice just a husk.
His eyes dropped to mouth, pouted before him, and he shook his head slowly. “What for, Maddie?”
She bit down on her lip, as she had done years earlier. “For everything.” She dropped her gaze.
Harrison knew Madeline. Years had past, but the way he’d understood her didn’t simply evaporate. He put a hand lightly on her arm, and she jumped again.
“Come inside for a moment.”
She looked at the house dubiously. “Inside? You mean in your house?”
“It’s freezing out here.”
Madeline felt an enormous butterfly batting against her ribs. She looked at him uncertainly. “Are you sure? I mean, it’s not too late?”
He frowned. “It’s not even nine.”
“Okay. Just for a minute.” She fell into step beside him. “It’s a nice house. Have you lived here long?”
“We moved in about two years ago. Around the time I was made Chief of Police.”
She nodded. It was what he’d always wanted. A wife, a kid, great job, lovely house. “It suits you.” She ran a hand wistfully over the bannister, taking in the geranium window boxes and pretty garden beds beneath. Though Harrison Samson was pure alpha male, somehow, the lovely garden complemented him. And Ivy must love the flowers.
He pushed the door inwards and stepped back, allowing Madeline to precede him. It meant that she had to brush against him, and her whole body seemed to spark with tiny flames at the intimate, innocent contact.
“Can I take your jacket?” He asked, looking at the beige thing she wore.
&
nbsp; She nodded jerkily. “Thanks.” She stepped out of it and handed it to him. It smelled of vanilla and coconut. He inhaled surreptitiously, as he hung it on the coat rack, and placed his own beside it. He spun back to Madeline. She had her back to him.
God, she was beautiful. The jeans hugged her perfect rear, showing her long, slender legs. Her blonde hair was down, with a simple clasp pinning it back from her face. He itched to reach out and touch it. She turned slowly, to face him. “Ivy’s quite the artist,” she observed with a shy smile, nodding towards the collection of pictures that were taped to the walls.
He grimaced. “She is certainly prolific,” he agreed with a shrug. “And I’m her biggest fan.”
Her face, so often wiped of emotion, seemed to shift up a gear, showing something. Something he didn’t understand. “I really didn’t think this through. Coming here tonight, I mean.”
He nodded. He could do this. He just had to treat her like a suspect. Or a reporting witness. Not the woman he’d once loved. “So why did you?”
She sighed. “I didn’t like the way things went between us the other day.” She shrugged, and it exposed an inch of bare midriff beneath her sweater. He looked away. The last thing he needed was to see her slim waist.
“The lounge is at the end of the hall. Go have a seat. I’ll make a coffee.”
“Do you have any wine?”
“Wine?” He frowned. “Yeah. In the kitchen.”
“Thanks.” She followed behind him, vanillas and coconuts teasing him the whole way.
“Red or white?”
“White.”
He pulled a bottle from the fridge and looked at the label. “It was a gift from my boss. Not sure if it’s any good.” He unscrewed the cap and poured some into a wine glass.
“Wow, impressive,” she said, taking the glass from him with a tense smile. “You must be making waves if the Colonel’s giving you bottles of wine.” She tasted it and lifted her brows. “And nice wines, too.”
It would have been the easiest, and the most dangerous thing in the world, to simply speak to her as he used to. She was conversational quick sand. So comfortable and familiar to him. “Why are you here, Madeline?”
She took a bigger sip of the wine. “Like I said, I hated the way things were between us the other day.”
“And how were things between us?”
She ran a finger around the rim of her glass. “You were so angry with me.”
He narrowed his eyes, flicking the kettle on. “Do you blame me?”
She nodded. “Yes. I don’t understand your reaction. We were over years ago. Why, after all that’s happened, would you still be mad?”
A very good question; one he couldn’t bring himself to answer. “I used to love you, Maddie. I thought you loved me too. I will never understand how you let your father talk you out of a decision you’d already made. A good decision.” He grabbed a mug and spilled some coffee into it, then added water. “We would have been happy.”
She swallowed convulsively. She knew he was right. “We were kids,” she shook her head. “I was only twenty.”
His eyes sparked, and then dropped to the enormous boulder she wore on her ring finger. “And you had bigger fish to fry.”
Her skin paled. “Meaning?”
“Your daddy didn’t approve of me. So you upped sticks and married the first millionaire who came your way. A man daddy would approve of.”
He was right. That was exactly how it had happened. Only she’d done it to protect Harrison, and to protect his mother Diana. A woman who’d already endured more than her fair share of life’s injustices.
“And you got over me pretty damned quick, didn’t you? So why the hell are you acting as though I ruined your life?’
“Got over you? Got over you?” He demanded harshly, closing the distance between them. He looked down at her with an expression that spoke of a soul deep torment. “I didn’t get over you, Madeline. Who could?”
She stared at him. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, I stopped loving you. But I didn’t stop wanting you.” His laugh was harsh. “Sometimes, I wanted just to hurt you. To make you feel a shred of what I had felt, when you left me. But other times, I just wanted you.” He lifted a hand and ran a finger down her face, from her cheek, to her full, pink lips. A soft moan escaped her at the forbidden contact.
“Harrison.” Her eyes were heavy with disapproval as she stepped back. “You’re married. What the hell are you doing?”
He realised that she hadn’t commented on her own marriage. But at the time, he thought it unimportant. He was so surprised by her statement that he wasn’t capable of analysing it properly. “Married? Who to?”
“Ivy’s mother,” she said quietly. “You have a family, Harrison. I didn’t come here to ruin that. I just couldn’t bare to think of the man I used to care for thinking of me with such malevolence.”
His chest was moving in a way that Madeline found distracting, for it simply drew attention to his broadly muscled physique and strong arms. “And what of your family, Madeline? Why do you not mention your husband? Do you not think he’d mind that all I can think about now is kissing you?”
Madeline sucked in a deep breath and lifted a fluttering hand to her chest. “Harrison,” she whispered unsteadily. “You can’t talk like that.”
“Why not?” He prowled towards her, his eyes dark with the intensity of his feelings. “Aren’t you curious, Maddie? Don’t you want to know if those feelings have burned out completely?”
She shook her head, but her words hitched in her throat. “No.” She wasn’t curious, because she already knew. The flame that had always roared between them was as powerful as ever.
“Liar,” he whispered, taking one last step, so that his body pressed against hers. Maybe it was the lunch he’d skipped and the two beers he’d thrown back before she’d arrived, but Harrison was feeling furious, and reckless. He’d spent his life following a strict code of honor; always abiding by the moralistic choice. Well, he didn’t want to do that with Madeline. Because doing what was right meant walking away from her. He pushed his hips forward, so that Madeline was pressed to the wall.
The weight of his body on hers was heaven. She let out a small breath of silent pleasure as she remembered how good he’d felt inside her. How his hands, his mouth, his everything, had existed only to pleasure her.
“We can’t do this,” she murmured, but her hands were lifting to his chest, clutching at the fine fabric of his shirt.
His laugh was hoarse; the intention in his eyes was unmistakable. “Can’t we?”
CHAPTER FOUR
He lowered his head, so that his mouth was just inches away. If she stood on tiptoes, she’d be kissing him, tasting him. He brushed his lips over hers, then nipped her lower lip with his teeth. Her breath fanned his neck, as he moved to her earlobe. He took it in his mouth and teased it with his tongue. She gasped as pleasure, sharp and furious, began to spiral in her gut.
“No!” She cried, pushing at the hard wall of his chest. He didn’t move, though. “You have a family, Harrison. I am not going to ruin that.”
“I have a daughter, Madeline. But it’s been a long time since I’ve had a lover.”
Her heart turned over in her chest. “You… what are you talking about?”
His hands were at the bottom of her sweater, touching the material, feeling for skin. She grabbed his hips and groaned at the intimate contact. He pushed his hips further forward, grinding his pelvis against her as his arousal grew. “It’s just me and Ivy.”
“But… what?”
“Do you want to talk about this now?”
She didn’t. God, she didn’t. She wanted him. Her marriage to Dean had always been based on the mutual understanding that it was pure pretence, but she was still married. In name, if no other way. And yet, she didn’t care. After all, Dean had relationships on the side. That was the whole point of their union – to provide him cover. He would be the last person in the
world to judge her for what she wanted to do with Harrison.
But it was wrong. It was complicated. It made no sense.
“I want you, Maddie,” he whispered, lifting her sweater over her head and throwing it onto a nearby chair. Her bra was exquisite French lace. His thumb padded over her nipple, and she arched her back as the sensations flew down her body.
“Harrison,” she said quietly, her breathing ragged, her heart running away from her. “This is so wrong.” But so right. Right in every way that mattered.
“I know,” he agreed calmly, lifting her and carrying her through the lounge, to his office. It had a rarely used sofa in the corner, and he placed her onto it. Before they could rethink the wisdom of what they were doing, he came to lie on top of her, his mouth seeking hers.
“You came here tonight. You must have known this would happen.”
“I thought you were married,” she responded, shaking her head. “I just wanted to talk.”
Something punctured the wall of need in Harrison. He tried to ignore it, but his conscience was a finely honed tool. As if sensing a shift in his mood, Madeline shifted, rolling on top of him. She rotated her hips, pressing herself onto his erection, and running her hands over his chest. Her fingers reached for his button and opened his pants desperately. How long had it been since she’d been with a man?
Eight years.
Since she’d left him. She shook her head.
No wonder she was almost crawling up the walls with desire.
“If we don’t do this, Harrison, I’m going to kill you.” She was smiling, but inside, she felt fires licking at her being. She had forgotten what a sexual person she was. In Harrison’s arms, her body was like a flame that had been doused in petrol.
“Damn it, Maddie, what game are you playing at?” He demanded, shifting so that he could wriggle out of his jeans. She pushed at her own, sliding them down her long legs, so that she was in just her underwear.
“I’d forgotten how good you are at this,” she said simply, grabbing his arousal with both hands and exclaiming as she felt its warmth and firmness. “Please, Harrison,” she moaned.
He hesitated. The rock on her finger kept catching his eye. He was torn between his complete need for her, and his black and white view of how the world should be. His hands were on her breasts, his head pushed back, his chest rising and falling as temptation warred with righteousness.
A Second Chance at Love: A Hometown Hero Series Novel Page 4