She belted out the last few lines of her final song in the second set of the night, then returned the microphone to the floor stand. The crowd exploded with applause and she smiled graciously, appreciative of the warm welcome she’d received here. But her gaze travelled slowly to the man seated nearby, who neither clapped nor smiled up at her. Instead, he just stared, running his index finger along the rim of his glass. Arrogant man, she thought. His dark eyes were clearly fixed on her face.
Madison eventually broke free of his gaze, turning her attention to the house band. She hugged the piano player and shook hands with the other members, grateful they were so versatile. Not once had they failed to recognize a song on her playlist. She exited the stage, headed to the bar for a glass of wine.
“Madison?” One of the cocktail waitresses flagged her down.
“Missy, right?”
“Good memory,” she said. “Are you busy right now?”
“No, why?”
“There’s a man seated near the stage that has requested an introduction. He also wants to buy you a drink.”
Madison knew exactly who she meant. Should she admit she knew Ramsey De Wolfe, or just play stupid? Either way, she intended to meet him. “Who?”
“See the dark-haired guy in the tuxedo?” Missy pointed. “His name is Ramsey De Wolfe, and around here, he’s a VIP.”
She gazed in his general direction, refusing to get excited. Three families had contributed to the cultural renaissance in Opposition City, and the De Wolfes topped the list. To her knowledge, Ramsey remained the only member of his family that refused to grant interviews, even to the local historical society. What did that dangerous man have to hide? She was determined to find out.
“He looks harmless enough,” Madison said.
“Are you joking?” the waitress asked.
“No.”
“Girlfriend…” Missy patted her hand. “Be careful, that man has a way of getting inside your head and panties.”
Madison shifted her weight and rubbed her hand over her pants. “Speaking from experience?”
Missy chuckled. “Me? Sleep with Ramsey? God, no. We’re friends. But I also feel obligated to warn a nice girl like you to be careful.”
“I appreciate that.”
Missy escorted her to Ramsey’s table. He immediately stood, then pulled the chair next to his out. “Good evening, Ms. Blake. I thoroughly enjoyed your music. Can I buy you a drink?”
Madison appreciated his cool formality, it had been years since a man stood when she approached a table. In fact, she thought her father and brothers were the last ones in Kentucky with old southern charm. So much had changed in her home state. “I’d like a glass of red wine, whatever the house recommends.” She sat down and the server wandered off.
“So what brings talent like yours to Opposition City? I picture you in Nashville or Atlanta, not here.”
God, up close his eyes were black as coal. “I’m a Kentucky native,” she said with a pronounced drawl, proud of her heritage. “I landed a job at the museum last month, so here I am.”
“Tour guide?” His brow raised.
Madison coughed. “Actually—I’m the assistant curator.”
His big hand brushed over her hers. “Brains and beauty.”
The skin-on-skin contact made her insides squirm a little. Her smoldering brain couldn’t form the words she needed to advance the conversation.
“Are you all right, Ms. Blake?”
“Y-yes. You make me feel very old when you address me as Ms. Blake.”
“Okay, Madison.” He touched her hand again, lingering for a breath longer. “You can call me, Ramsey.”
To her knowledge, she hadn’t referred to him as anything yet. She feared speaking his name might enchant her like some kind of spell. But Madison never backed down from a challenge. She’d gotten this far in life because she took chances. “How long have you lived in Opposition City, Ramsey?”
“All my life.” He leaned back in his chair, stretching out, legs spread wide.
Body language experts would call that a power stance. Ramsey De Wolfe was claiming the territory around him, which included her at the moment.
“It’s a lovely place, the hills and trees…”
“The landscape is the last thing I’m thinking about right now.”
His eyes danced with mischief, and he wet his lips slowly. Deliberately trying to make her uncomfortable, that much she knew. And if she didn’t have a working knowledge of his history, she might succumb to his unbridled charm.
“What shall we talk about then?” she asked.
He leaned close. “You.”
Missy returned with her wine, set it down, and bounded off again, leaving Madison to her own devices. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
Even his swagger had swagger. “There’s nothing too exciting about my life. I grew up in the Lexington suburbs singing in the church choir. I have three brothers and my father works for the defense department. I like kittens and bunnies, and long walks on the beach… Are you even listening to me?” Though he appeared to be listening, he seemed far away.
“Kittens and bunnies, and long walks on the beach. Sounds very suspicious, Ms. Blake.”
“I threw that in to test you.”
“I didn’t miss a word,” he assured her. “What about your mother?”
She felt her smile fade. “She died a couple years ago from breast cancer.”
His poker face changed into something softer, a flicker of deep concern etched his forehead with wrinkles. “Sorry for stirring up any pain.” He cupped her face.
“No.” She folded her hands on the table, hoping he didn’t notice the slight tremor. “I’m learning to deal with the pain and memories. Everyone is different, right? And I’m pretty sure no one ever fully recovers from a loss like that.”
“No,” he agreed. “True recovery isn’t an option. Not in my career, and never in my personal life.”
She wondered for a minute what he meant exactly, but if she thought too hard about it, she’d start to cry. That’s how fresh the pain of the loss of her mother still was. “Do you have family here?” Madison changed the subject quickly.
He nodded. “Brothers, parents, and countless cousins.”
“And what do you do for a living?” She had to treat him like a stranger in order to get close to him.
“I’m a detective.”
She felt suddenly caged in, like she couldn’t walk away. His eyes were precise weapons of seduction. And his words were a mere formality, necessary for whatever reasons he chose.
“Madison?”
“Yes?”
“Are you going to taste your wine?”
She looked down at the glass, then sampled it in a hurry, like she’d been chastised for doing something wrong. The warm liquid tickled her throat all the way down. She pushed the glass aside then, finding the courage to face him again. Nothing seemed to penetrate his steely resolve. Not her attention, and definitely not her smiles.
“Should we bypass all the bullshit?” he asked. “We can’t deny the red-hot attraction between us. And I’m a simple man. If I like a woman, I naturally want to fuck her. I can’t promise you romance, but I’ll make you scream all night.”
He didn’t… No man had ever… And she knew her face reflected her feelings of shock and awe. The rumors were all true. Ramsey De Wolfe was trouble in pants. In uniform. In the flesh sitting next to her. And she didn’t know what to say. Her instincts screamed run. And her proper upbringing demanded that she slap his face or splash him with the rest of her drink. That’s what a true lady would do, walk away annoyed and deeply offended. But her legs were rooted to the floor like trees stumps. And the rest of her body—especially the spot between her thighs, alive and kicking.
He reached for her hand and lifted it to his mouth. That one kiss undid all her training. It toppled her defensive walls like a cannon ball, leaving her open and vulnerable to his advances.
“I-I don’t know what to say.”
“Yes for starters.”
“Excuse me?”
“Say yes. Leave with me tonight.”
“But I have another set in thirty minutes.”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” he said with confidence. “Anzio is a personal friend, we grew up together.”
He had answers for everything. “That aside,” she said. “My conscience is still playing catch up at the moment.”
“Why? Do you feel guilty for wanting sex? You shouldn’t, it’s instinctive.”
And incredibly naughty and carnal. Sleeping with a man you just met made no sense. Not to her. But she’d convinced herself weeks ago that anything she did to get close to Ramsey was excusable, all in the name of research. If she could land that interview and fill in the gaps in her historical documentation on his family, she’d likely get a promotion at work. She imagined what that prestige and respect would feel like.
Her boss, Carl Gentry, would stop assigning her trivial tasks like taking inventory in the warehouse.
She scrutinized Ramsey’s features, his high cheek bones, chiseled jaw, and those deep-set, predatory eyes… Words couldn’t describe how handsome he was. His shoulders were broader than most. His long-sleeved dress shirt couldn’t hide the definition in his strong arms, or the massive chest underneath. Yeah, she could picture herself writhing underneath him while he pumped inside her. So much so, she actually jerked.
“Madison?” He cupped her cheek, the heat from his hand all the convincing she needed.
“Yes,” she said.
“Yes, what?”
“I want you to fuck me.”
Chapter Three
The second Ramsey touched Madison’s sweet face, all his tension melted away. That never happened. Though he tried to make the most of the time he spent with a woman, it didn’t venture beyond the physical. That no romance rule had been integrated into his daily life like carrying his badge and gun. It’s what he did. Questioning it wouldn’t change anything. Instinct drove him. But something had happened here. Something very different.
Her disapproving look vanished and turned into something softer, maybe appreciation for their mutual fascination. That’s what he’d blame it on, off-the-chart attraction. The sooner he got her in bed the better—he’d find relief and move on.
“You understand exactly what I’m offering, Madison?” He wanted to be sure. “I won’t wine and dine you. No flowers. No broken promises. Just you and me in bed. And once we finish, I’ll drive you home. I don’t want your phone number. Just your body and those sweet lips on mine for a few hours.”
Sensing her hesitation, he finished off his watered down drink.
“Do you always treat women like disposable wipes? Use one, then throw it away?”
He eyed her curiously. “Is that what you think?”
“Yeah.” Her pretty, pink tongue flicked nervously along her bottom lip. “Maybe I’m not the droid you’re looking for tonight. I’ve never done this before, Mr. De Wolfe. I’ve always invested time in a relationship before I opened my legs for a man.”
“I won’t judge you, sweetheart. I just want to worship that little body, and give you something to remember.”
She took a long sip of wine, again thinking too hard about something so simple.
“Do you want references?” he asked.
She snickered, clearly not amused. “That’s the most pretentious thing I’ve ever heard.” Madison’s green eyes narrowed. “And who would you direct me to if I said yes?”
Ramsey rubbed his chin, scanning the room for one of his conquests. Of course several were within shouting distance. “Emma the bartender, or Tara if you prefer, is sitting over there.” He pointed. “I assure you both women have no regrets, and neither do I.”
She let out a breath, her smile returning. “I believe you. Lord knows why, but I can’t say no.”
Ramsey wouldn’t have let her. However much convincing she required, he’d work it hard if he had to. “If you’ll give me a few minutes to take care of business, I’ll meet you by the front door.”
He stood, waiting for her reply.
“Okay.”
Ramsey nodded, then headed for the front of the club where Anzio’s office was located. Before he knocked on the closed door, he waved for one of the bouncers to come over.
“Everything good, Mr. De Wolfe?” Andrew asked.
“Perfect,” he said. “Please keep an eye on Madison Blake until I’m done talking to your boss.”
“Sure thing.”
Ramsey tipped him a twenty, satisfied he’d chosen the right woman to spend the evening with. He knocked on Anzio’s door.
“Come in.”
Ramsey stepped inside, greeted by a smile.
“Ramsey, I didn’t expect you tonight.”
“I left the annual fundraiser early—elections are around the corner, and the chief was slinging shit better than most.” Ramsey massaged the back of his neck. “Everyone wants something for nothing these days. And I’m not happy about the way the department throws my family name around. Bastards should rely on their service records to garner support.”
Anzio opened a drawer and pulled out a crystal decanter. “You’ve been doing this for how many years?”
“Thirteen.”
“Ever consider not showing up?”
Ramsey claimed the guest chair in front of his friend’s desk. “If I didn’t, they’d drag my father out instead. The old man needs to stay home where he belongs.”
“Still in pain?”
Ramsey’s father was shot five times three years ago, ending his thirty year department career. One of the bullets grazed his lower spine, weakening his legs. Thank God no major organs were hit, but his father still had difficulties walking. “The physical therapist shows up three days a week. He’s gaining flexibility and strength little-by-little.”
“Glad to hear it.” Anzio offered him a glass. “To the De Wolfes and everything your family means to this city.”
They tapped glasses, and Ramsey drank greedily. “Madison Blake…”
“Hell no,” Anzio said. “Tell me you didn’t fuck with the entertainment.”
Ramsey grinned. “Guilty.”
“She’s a good girl, not the type you typically target.”
“Target? That’s a bit harsh.”
“Is it?”
“What can I say?” Ramsey crossed his legs. “Maybe you shouldn’t hire such a delectable song bird.”
“Sarah Patterson is in the crowd tonight. Let me throw in a bottle of my best champagne.”
“You look like you need another drink.”
“Maybe I do.” Anzio poured himself another shot. “Of all the girls, why’d you have to choose her?”
“Don’t tell me you’re interested?” Now it made sense, Anzio wanted Madison for himself. “Say the word, I’ll back off.” And he would, their friendship meant more to him than a one-night-stand.
“Jesus Christ.” Anzio held up his left hand and pointed to his gold wedding ring. “Forget about my wife? She’d cut my junk off if I had an affair. Dirty minded bastard. Madison’s eldest brother is a friend of mine. I promised to keep an eye on her.”
“What if I take care of her tonight? She’ll be perfectly safe with one of Opposition City’s finest.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He sighed. “She’s twenty-five, so I can’t exactly tell her what to do…”
“Is that a yes?”
“No,” he said. “But I’ll forget we ever had this conversation and cancel her third set. Go on asshole, get her out of your system.”
They fist bumped and Ramsey walked to the door. “Is she really the assistant curator at the museum?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“It just surprised me.”
“She’s smart and focused on her career. God knows why she didn’t have the sense to send you packing.”
Ramsey waited by the entrance of the club
for fifteen minutes before Madison finally joined him. She’d changed into a blue skirt and white tank top, a backpack slung over her left shoulder. He liked her in leather better, but this style complimented her curves, too. Her long blond hair was loose now, cascading over her shoulders. His gaze stopped on her feet, surprised to find black combat boots.
“Your footwear clashes with your skirt.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re a cop and fashionista?”
He laughed. “Hardly—let’s just say I appreciate the finer things in life. A pair of Jimmy Choo’s resting on my shoulders turns me on. Not Doc Martens.”
“I’ll take them off.”
She’d be taking off more than those boots… Ramsey held the glass door open for her. “Is your car in the parking lot?”
“I don’t own a car.”
“How do you get around town?”
“Public transit or my bicycle.”
Another surprise… Madison Blake just seemed to be full of them. “Is that by choice?”
“Of course, silly. Opposition City is one of the best designed, walkable communities in Kentucky. Imagine if thousands joined me, how many tons of particulate matter emissions would be eliminated from the environment.”
He respected people who made personal sacrifices for what they believed in, even if he didn’t agree with or find their beliefs feasible. He stared down at her, growing more intrigued. “Are your clothes made from recycled materials?”
“I think you’re teasing me, Ramsey.”
“Maybe,” he admitted.
“No, I bought my outfit at Old Navy.”
So he was going to sleep with an environmentalist who wore combat boots, refused to own a car, trusted public transit for late night use, worked as an assistant curator at the local museum, could sing better than Adele or Janis Joplin, and had never let a man pick her up at a bar. More information than he’d ever required from another woman. And, one of his best friends was closely linked to her family. It complicated things a bit, but the need for sex overrode his common decency.
Wolves in the wild could go days without feeding. Not Ramsey—he craved soft, warm flesh every night. Just the scent of the woman in a crowd gave him an erection. Madison made him rock hard with a look. Even if he’d never seen her face, her effervescent voice seized him. And for possessing that kind of power, Ramsey planned on punishing her with endless kisses, tongue lashes, and fucking her senseless.
Romance the De Wolfe Page 10