The Marriage Project

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The Marriage Project Page 5

by Leclaire, Day


  “Is that a crack?”

  “Yes.”

  She considered pursuing that line of attack, then decided her energy was better spent on other, more immediate concerns. “I don’t think we need to worry. They’ll give up this nonsense once they see we’re not interested in each other.”

  “And what makes you think we’re not?”

  She brushed that aside with a wave of her hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. A few brief minutes of indiscretion on a stuck elevator does not make for a romantic relationship. I’d even go so far as to say a stolen kiss or two was obligatory. But it doesn’t mean a thing.”

  “Funny. I seem to recall discussing an affair.”

  Another surge of uncontrollable warmth washed across Madison’s cheekbones. She really would have to find a way to curb that tendency. “Piffle. You were discussing,” she retorted. “I was refusing. And now that I’ve had an opportunity to see the error of my ways, as it were, I’m absolutely, positively refusing.”

  “You can’t refuse. We sealed our agreement with a kiss.”

  “Agreement?” She whipped around to confront him and discovered she had to look a long way up. Strange that the shoulders she’d found so comforting such a short time ago now appeared so intimidating. Not that she’d allow herself to be intimidated. Not a chance. That was for presidents and CEOs and owners of multi-trillion-dollar companies. But not her. “I most certainly did not agree to any such thing.”

  “You kissed me. Hell, sweetheart, you wrapped yourself around me and held on for dear life. If that wasn’t reaching an agreement, I don’t know what was.”

  More than anything she wanted to back down. Summoning every ounce of courage, she locked her knees in place and planted her hands on her hips. Sticking out her chin, she fixed him with her most ferocious gaze. The ridiculous image of a kitten spitting in the face of a lion took hold, one she had the devil of a time banishing. “I was suffering from claustrophobia. I wasn’t in my right mind. You can’t blame me for anything that happened in there.”

  “Oh, I don’t blame you. In fact, anytime or anyplace you’d care to repeat what happened, I’d be only too happy to accommodate you.”

  “Really? How kind.” If he caught her sarcasm, he didn’t react to it. “Maybe the publishers should consider renaming your father’s book. Instead of calling it The Principles of Love, they should title it The ABC’s of Lust. Because that’s all we experienced. Lust. Not love.”

  “An excellent idea for a sequel. I’ll mention it to Dad.”

  Did nothing faze the man? She decided to change tactics. “What are we going to do about dinner?”

  “You mean what excuse should we use to get out of it?”

  Finally! She knew they possessed more similar characteristics than opposing ones. He must have reached the same decision she had. “Exactly. You said you were here on business. We’ll use that as an excuse.”

  “No, we won’t.”

  “Oh.” She spared him a disgruntled glance. “Then I can claim a previous engagement.”

  “That’s your choice, but I intend to be at that dinner.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Didn’t he understand the problems that would cause? “They’re already throwing us together. This will only make matters worse. It’ll encourage them.”

  Harry shrugged off her complaint. “I want to have dinner with my father. I happen to like the man. I also like your grandmother and wouldn’t mind getting to know her better, too.” He offered a smile that held far too much appeal. Obviously he’d decided to pull another intimidation tactic from his bag of tricks. “Come on, Madison. What can it hurt? It sounds like a pleasant way to spend the evening.”

  She considered her options. If she refused to go now, she’d end up looking petty. If she agreed, would it appear she’d caved under pressure? She’d have to risk it. Better to keep an eye on Sunny and her love expert than to allow their relationship to get out of hand.

  “Fine. Sunny can’t force us into a relationship in such a short amount of time. It’s not like we’ll end up committed or engaged or anything.”

  “Of course not. After all, we can’t work our way through the entire ten principles over a single meal. Look at how long we were on the elevator. Hours, at least.” His smile grew, taking on a predatory aspect that made her decidedly nervous. “All that time alone together and we were only able to stumble through three of the principles. There isn’t a chance in hell we can manage more than another one or two over dinner.”

  That stopped her cold. She knew about the first two principles. How had they suddenly jumped to three? She cleared her throat. “Just out of curiosity. What’s the third principle?”

  “For the most perfect mating, take the time to explore all the senses with your partner.” His expression held a bit too much satisfaction. “I’d say we’ve accomplished that one, too. Wouldn’t you?”

  Madison ran through a quick mental list. Sight. Hearing. Check and double check. They might not have seen each other until recently, but the final effect had been stunning. Then there was scent. An unbidden memory of his distinctive odor returned to haunt her and she suddenly realized she still wore his suit jacket. She whipped it off and shoved it into his hands, pretending she didn’t notice his grin of satisfaction. Removing the coat didn’t help. To her distress, she found she could still smell him. The very fact that his scent had somehow become a part of her, clinging both physically and mentally, warned of how unique she found him. Then there was touch. Oh, dear. They’d certainly done quite a bit of that. As for taste…

  She spun abruptly on her heel. Kisses did not count as tasting. “Kisses do not count as tasting.”

  “They do in my book.” Catching her by the arm, he turned her to face him and in front of everyone lingering in the lobby of the building, he tasted her again. “Congratulations, Madison,” he murmured. “You’ve successfully completed the first three principles. And it’s only taken three hours. I wonder if that’s a record?”

  “It can’t be,” she retorted in instant denial.

  “Sure it can. How many more do you think we’ll cross off by the time dinner’s over?”

  She pulled free of his arms. “None!”

  “Guess again.” His fingers stroked the curve of her cheek. “Fight if it makes you happier, sweetheart. But I’ll have you in the end.”

  “I won’t be intimidated by you, Harry.”

  He nodded in approval. “Good. I don’t want a woman I can intimidate. I want a woman who’s my match.”

  He didn’t give her an opportunity to reply, which was just as well, since she hadn’t a clue what she’d have said. Snatching a final kiss—a kiss she found impossible to resist—he left her standing in the middle of the lobby of her grandmother’s apartment building and walked away. Madison glared at his retreating back. It was a very large, imposing back, as impressive and appealing as the rest of him. She turned away.

  Impossible man. It didn’t matter how delicious she found his kisses, nor how well they’d progressed through the first several principles. She wouldn’t allow a bunch of stupid rules to dictate her love life. There were more important considerations, considerations she’d delineated quite carefully in her personal journal. And not one of the characteristics on her list included how he should smell or taste or feel.

  Not one.

  She couldn’t resist stealing a final glance at Harry. Now that she reflected on the matter, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to consider a few revisions to her blueprint. After all, experimentation led to improvement. And compared to Harry, her blueprint left something to be desired.

  “Quiet, everyone,” Sunny announced. “We have a lot to discuss and not much time.”

  “I can’t be away from the office too long.” Rosy spoke up. “Madison gets downright cranky when I’m not there to help.”

  Sunny gave a brisk nod of approval. “You make an excellent assistant. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have known what to get Madison for her birthday. We
’re all very grateful.”

  A chorus of agreements came from the other Sunflowers and Rosy grinned. “Just remember that when it comes time for the big surprise I get full credit.”

  “Done.” Sunny clutched Bartholomew’s book close. “Phase one and two have been successfully completed. Harry came and the two have met.”

  “More than met,” David said with a chuckle. “I don’t suppose you arranged that elevator malfunction?”

  Sunny smiled modestly. “The building engineer owed me a favor. Getting them both alone on the same elevator was the tricky part. But it ended up being one of my better efforts, I must confess.”

  “So what’s phase three?” Dell asked. “How can we help?”

  “It shouldn’t be too difficult. Not for a Sunflower. Fortunately, Madison tends to be a bit oblivious to everything other than her current project.”

  “It’s a regrettable trait she inherited from her father,” Daniel offered.

  Sunny dismissed the comment with an impatient shrug. “Nothing we can do about that. Instead of bemoaning the unfortunate influence, we’ll use it to our advantage.”

  “How?” Rosy demanded bluntly.

  “We’ll give her something important to focus on. And while she’s distracted by that, we’ll put our plan in motion.” Sunny beamed. “And I have just the perfect distraction. We’re meeting at dinner tonight and I’ll lay the groundwork then.”

  “She’ll be so pleased with our ingenuity.”

  “She’ll thank us.”

  “This will be the best birthday yet.”

  Sunny quieted her relatives with an upheld hand. “After all Madison’s done for us, she deserves the best present we can find. Having met Harry, I can happily confirm that he’s the absolute best. I think we can all be confident that our little marriage project will meet with complete success. We can also be confident that Madison will be eternally grateful for our interference.”

  “Grateful enough to increase our allowances?” Harley wanted to know.

  Sunny grinned. “Trust me. I’ve taken care of that, too.”

  Harry stood in the lobby of King Tower and watched as Madison entered the building. He shook his head in disbelief. She had to be one of the loveliest women he’d ever seen. Not that she seemed aware of that fact. Perhaps it had to do with her level of focus. Since her appearance wasn’t important to her, she didn’t give it more than cursory attention. And yet, she exuded a careless elegance that held intense appeal.

  She wore her hair loose and he discovered that it was longer than he’d thought. The dusky ringlets spilled over her shoulders and down her back in carefree abandon, framing her face and setting off the bright gold of her dress. She didn’t wear a lot of makeup. Of course, she didn’t need to. Her lashes were thick and black, drawing attention to large, inky-dark eyes and a generous mouth he’d explored for far too short a time. He’d have to correct that oversight. Soon.

  He knew the instant she noticed him. There was a slight break in her stride as she approached and her eyes turned as luminous as starlight. Then her lashes flickered downward to curtain her pleasure. But there was no disguising the softening of her mouth or the way her breathing kicked up a beat. Even when she glanced up again, her wary regard betrayed an intense awareness of him as a man. She stopped several feet away, as though hoping the discreet distance would establish a ring of protection.

  He demolished the ring with a single stride, invading her space and allowing all the chemical reactions she denied so fiercely to be set in motion. Masculine collided with feminine, sparking the air between them.

  Harry took his time before speaking. “You came.”

  “Don’t try your intimidation tricks on me,” she ordered briskly.

  He lifted an eyebrow in question. “Intimidation tricks?”

  “You told me about them on the elevator, remember? Showing up early. Letting your size make people nervous. Staying quiet so everyone else rushes into speech and—” She broke off abruptly.

  “And betrays themselves?”

  “You are a difficult man, Harry Jones.”

  “Yes.” He sympathized. “I am. We’re a lot alike in that regard, aren’t we?”

  That cheered her right up. She immediately relaxed and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. “Yes, we are. We’re both difficult and both intimidating.”

  “Not to mention practical and logical.”

  “That’s why we’re so good at our jobs.” She glanced around. “I thought we agreed to meet at House Milano. Isn’t that at the top of King Tower? What are you doing down here?”

  “I thought I’d ride up with you.”

  It only took her a moment’s reflection to see through his explanation. “You weren’t by any chance worried about me, Mr. Jones?” He couldn’t tell if the idea pleased or offended her. “Were you concerned that I might have another fit of claustrophobia?”

  “Not a chance,” he lied with calm assurance, pushing the call button for the elevator. “This afternoon’s incident was a fluke, an unfortunate combination of factors unlikely ever to happen again.”

  “But if they do, you want to be there?”

  He chuckled. “Of course.”

  The elevator arrived just then and he followed her into the car. He couldn’t help but notice that her breathing altered and the color ebbed from her cheeks. He’d have liked to snatch her close and kiss her from the first floor straight through until they’d reached the top. His mouth twisted. But that wouldn’t be practical, or so he suspected she’d claim. Without a word he closed his hand around hers and began to talk—light, inconsequential conversation that didn’t require too much thought or response. The minute they arrived at the restaurant, he released his hold. She flashed him a sweet smile of gratitude before stepping from the car and traversing the pathway of diamond-shaped, pink-and-ivory marble leading toward an imposing glass reservation desk.

  “I meant to ask earlier.” She was swift to regain her self-possession. “Have Sunny and Bartholomew arrived yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  Madison nodded as though she’d expected as much. “They’re giving us time alone in the hopes that something more might develop between us. I don’t suppose that’s another of your father’s love principles?”

  “As a matter of fact—”

  “Mr. Jones, Ms. Adams?” An elderly gentleman dressed in a black tux with a white rose pinned to his lapel approached from behind the reservations desk. “Welcome to House Milano. My name is Georgio.” He gave a courtly bow. “Mr. Milano has requested that you be given our very best table. If you’ll follow me, please?”

  They passed through the main dining area where the restaurant blended Old World charm with a contemporary flair. Walls of glass offered an incomparable view of downtown Seattle and tables had been set at discreet distances from each other, angled toward the dance floor where a combo played a delightful jazz number. Harry was impressed.

  “I understand this is your first visit to our establishment.” Georgio smiled in a friendly manner, a far cry from the more typical patronizing maître d’. “You’ll find it’s the perfect place to spend a leisurely evening.”

  One end of the room was divided off from the main area and Georgio led the way through a gated archway. Low dividing walls and barrels of plants separated the scattered tables, offering the diners both privacy and a stunning view of the city and Puget Sound. There was no question in Harry’s mind that this section of the restaurant had been created with romance in mind.

  “We reserve these tables for our special guests,” Georgio explained in an undertone. “Sunny is one of Mr. Milano’s favorites. A most delightful woman.”

  “Most people think so,” Madison agreed.

  “No doubt.” He held out her chair. “Please feel free to visit our dance floor if you wish. I’ll return shortly for your drink order. Mr. Milano has requested that I take care of all your needs personally.”

  Madison waited until Georgio left befor
e speaking. “Harry?”

  He didn’t look up from the wine menu. “Try not to worry, Madison. It will all work out.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “My father and Sunny are being a bit overzealous. That’s all.”

  “Overzealous?” Her eyes narrowed. “I know a setup when I see one and this is definitely a setup. Now what are we going to do about it?”

  Harry closed the menu with slow deliberation and returned it to the immaculate white linen tablecloth before fixing Madison with a curious gaze. “What do you suggest we do?”

  “We need to come up with a plan to stop them.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “A plan to stop what, precisely? Tonight’s dinner?”

  “No. I think we both agreed that Sunny can’t—”

  “Or are you suggesting that the elevator malfunction was some sort of insidious plot to throw us together?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Her dress gleamed in the subdued lighting, the warm gold at odds with the irritation in her voice. “Of course I don’t think that. Sunny’s good, but not that good.”

  “I see. Then it’s what we did on the elevator that has you all worked up.”

  “I’m not happy about it, if that’s what you’re asking.” She didn’t back away from a potentially uncomfortable discussion, he’d give her that. “Doesn’t what happened bother you?”

  “To be honest, it’s what happened when we got off the elevator that bothers me more.”

  Her brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

  “The woman I kissed vanished the second the lights came on.” He leaned across the table, fixing her with a determined gaze. “And I want her back.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Principle 4: Fear can ruin even the

  most promising relationship.

  You have to decide what’s more important to you—

  Love…or protecting yourself from

 

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