She laughed.
“You find that amusing?”
“I do. Who changed the diapers, you or Jamie?”
“Me. Jamie entertained the older kids while I did the feeding and the changing of the diapers.”
“That explains why you refer to children as critters.”
“Maybe you’re right,” he said with a chuckle.
Jackson listened to her ramble on, knowing that she was uncomfortable with silence. He liked the way her nose crinkled and her eyes lit up when she talked. Overall, she was quite animated when she spoke. Her eyes appeared turquoise under the dim lights.
“Adam and Erin don’t think you dezzerve me,” she said, her words slurred.
“They could very well be right about that,” he said, inwardly smiling when he realized she was beyond tipsy.
She nodded, seemingly satisfied with his quick agreement.
One of the caterers waved at her from the sidelines.
“Is there anybody in the world you don’t want to be friends with?" he asked.
“No,” she said, her body swaying to the music, one of her fingers twirling the hair at the back of his neck. This was ridiculous. The woman was driving him wild with one finger.
“I think your friend, Adam, wanted to rip me to shreds today.”
Madison laughed. “Adam wouldn’t hurt a flea.”
“You could’ve fooled me.”
“I’m the only mother figure he’s ever known. He’s protective, that’s all.”
She was much too young to be Adam’s mother, but she definitely had a maternal instinct about her that was hard to ignore. Since their meeting with Mr. Razzano, Jackson had begun to see that there was definitely more to Madison than what Heather had told him. The stories Madison had told in the executor’s office had come straight from the heart. Not lies exactly—more like dreams. Too often over the past few days, Jackson found himself wondering about her. What did she think about when she was alone? What did she want out of life? What made her happy?
One thing was clear. She was as needy as the kids she so often spoke of. Sure, she wanted people to think she was an independent woman, but what she really yearned for was someone to love, someone to smother her with affection. And as much as he enjoyed being around her, the last thing he wanted—was to be that person. He wasn’t ready to be tied down to a lifetime of responsibility.
He felt her head rest against his chest. They were moving too slow to be considered dancing. He could feel her heart beating against his. Her hair smelled like rose petals.
He wasn’t coldhearted, he told himself, as he felt her cheek rub softly against his chest. He just didn’t have time for a relationship. He had work to do. He had a business to run. His body tensed, and he pulled his lips from her hair, wondering what had moved him to put them there in the first place.
He didn’t need anyone else relying on him. He’d taken care of his mother until she passed away. He then raised Jamie on his own. Until Walter came into their lives, the responsibility had been overwhelming. And now he thrived on independence and freedom. He liked knowing he could take off tomorrow if he wanted to, or the next day, or the next. He could work all hours of the night without anyone at home to worry about.
He wasn’t ever going to give that up.
Not for anybody.
His body rocked gently with hers, his every movement contrasting greatly with his inner turmoil. He enjoyed holding her close and feeling her body against his. She fit him like a handmade sweater. And that, he decided, was the last straw.
Without waiting for the song to end, he unlocked her arms from around his neck and guided her across the room and through the French doors. Taking long strides, he ushered her across the lawn, stopping when he realized she was limping. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He opened the gate and ushered her through.
“Ooh—ow, ow.”
“What now?”
“I lost my shoe.”
“How far back?”
“The dance floor, I think.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I didn’t want you yelling at me again.”
He huffed. “And when have I ever yelled at you before?”
“You’re yelling at me right now.”
Towering over her, he leaned over, picked her up, and carried her to the car.
Twenty minutes later Jackson pulled into his driveway and turned off the ignition. Her hand was on his leg. She looked over at him and smiled, her eyes slightly downcast.
Temporary or not, she was his wife now, which made him question whether he’d been too hard on her earlier. “I refuse to feel guilty about today,” he told her.
“I’m not asking you to feel guilty.”
“I wasn’t the one who approached you and asked you to marry me. This is your doing.”
“I know.”
He climbed out of the car and came around to open the passenger door.
She didn’t move.
Reluctantly, he reached inside and lifted her into his arms again. “Did you leave your shoe on purpose?”
“Why would I do that?”
“So I would have to carry you again.” As he made his way up the wide expanse of wide stairs leading to his house, he realized he’d carried packages heavier than his new bride. When he got to the door, he adjusted her in a way so that her feet wouldn’t touch the cold ground while he struggled to find his keys.
She leaned contentedly against his chest. “You smell nice.”
Ignoring her, he dug deeper into his pants pocket for his keys. She was up to something. No doubt about it. By the time he located his keys, she was twirling her fingers around the buttons of his shirt.
“If you keep that up,” he said, “all bets are off.”
“We didn’t make any bets.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t think I do.” Her fingers left his buttons and instead trailed unhurriedly over his chest up to his neck. Before she could remove his tie, he managed to get the door unlocked. He readjusted her once more, this time heaving her over his shoulder.
She playfully protested all the way across the entryway and up a long flight of carpeted stairs. He opened the first door to the left and placed her gently on the four-posted bed in the middle of the room.
“For the next three months,” he said, “this is your room.” He turned to leave. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“You’re not going to join me?”
“Let’s get one thing straight.”
She batted her eyelashes and he couldn’t help but smile.
“We’re not going to sleep together,” he said. “Not tonight. Not tomorrow night.”
“You’re not attracted to me?”
“I didn’t say that.”
He shouldn’t have said that, he realized as he watched her come to her knees and undo the top three buttons of her blouse.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m hot. I mean, it’s hot in here.”
She was right the first time.
“Oooh, these are killing me.” She slid off of the bed, and then unzipped her skirt and let it fall slowly to the floor.
Jackson was finding it difficult to breathe. He should leave, but he couldn’t embarrass her by leaving in the middle of her striptease.
She slid her pantyhose off next. When she got them half way over smooth pale thighs, his throat went dry. Her legs looked much too long and shapely for a woman of no more than five foot four.
He held in a breath as he watched her slowly peel off her blouse and move toward him. Her pink lacey bra and matching panties didn’t leave much to the imagination. Before she reached him, she tripped on the Berber carpet, but quickly covered the blunder by thrusting her hips forward and sliding her tongue over her top lip.
He smiled. He couldn’t help himself. “What are you doing?”
She stopped in mid-step. “Nothing. Why?”
&n
bsp; “Are you trying to seduce me?”
“Maybe.”
“Either you are or you’re not.”
“It’s not working?”
“Why are you doing this?” he asked.
She looked crushed. “Every time you kiss me, I feel things inside of me—tingly, explosive, wonderful things that I’ve never felt before. We’re married now. You said yourself that we had the entire night ahead of us.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “I was trying to scare you, hoping to teach you a lesson.”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t know me, Madison, and yet you married me. Any woman foolish enough to marry a complete stranger needs to be taught a lesson.”
“I do know you.” She took another step forward and laid a hand on his chest. “I know you would fight to protect me from men like Bryce Archer and Mr. Razzano. And your beautiful, tender kisses aren’t the only reason I know you’re caring and gentle. You love your brother and you still mourn the man who raised you.”
“Who told you that?”
“Jamie.”
He took her hand from his chest and put it to her side. “Trust me. You don’t know me. And it’s better if we keep it that way. We may be married now, but I’m not marriage material. We made a deal and if I remember correctly you wrote a list of rules, the first of which had something to do with keeping our clothes on at all times.” He let his gaze roam over her. “I’d appreciate it if you followed them.”
He turned to leave.
“So you don’t feel anything at all?”
He turned back to face her, his gaze lingering on her rosy cheeks and soft lips as he wondered if he’d ever tire of looking at her. She had absolutely no idea how beautiful she was. “I’m sorry,” he lied. “I don’t feel anything.” And he was sorry. Sorrier than she’d ever know. Without giving himself time to ponder on it further, he turned and walked from the room, taking his painful desire, his frustrations, and an unfamiliar pang in his chest with him.
He had to stay away from her. That was all there was to it. His inability to think and his complete lack of control over his own body when she so much as touched him scared the hell out of him. He needed to stay focused, stay in control. He was a planner—meticulous with detail. And this particular scenario was not part of the plan.
Without looking back, he headed for the stairs, agitated by his newfound weakness when it came to his wife.
His wife.
The thought made his insides twist.
Chapter Eight
After tossing and turning for most of the night, Madison finally gave up trying to get any sleep. She pushed off the covers and slid her legs over the side of the bed. She gazed down at the ring on her finger and couldn’t help but feel sort of silly for coming on to Jackson only to be turned down flat. He’d sobered her right up.
She wanted nothing more than to call a cab and go home. It was Sunday, and she hoped he’d gone to the office for the day. The wedding had been a disaster, not to mention her attempt at seducing her husband. How was she ever going to face him again?
Her gaze fell to her suitcase by the closet door, making her wonder when he’d managed to slip it into the room without disturbing her. Head throbbing, she forced herself to her feet. Her room, she noticed, was tastefully decorated in light creams and lavender.
After grabbing her nightshirt, slippers and toiletries from her case, she went into the bathroom and brushed her hair and then her teeth. She splashed cold water on her face, but that hardly helped the puffiness under her eyes. She needed Tylenol.
She opened the door and was instantly greeted by high ceilings and wide open spaces. The house was enormous. Long, open hallways lined with custom-made iron railings made for a sweeping view of the grand entrance below. Burgundy draperies and a plush carpet contrasted nicely with cream-colored walls. Rich colorful paintings adorned the walls, giving the house warmth, although a pervasive stillness did make her wonder how one man could live all alone in such a large house.
She held onto the decorative iron rail as she made her way downstairs. The kitchen was equally large and nicely decorated with never-ending granite counters and sprawling slate floors. Massive windows provided plenty of natural light as she searched through a few cupboards and finally the pantry. It didn’t take her long to find a bottle of Tylenol. She stepped out of the pantry and opened the lid.
“Looking for something?”
Startled, she jumped and the bottle of pills flew from her hand, the plastic bottle hitting Jackson square on the chin. Pills scattered and rolled across the floor; a few tablets circled around Jackson’s bare feet.
“You’re not working today?”
He shook his head. “Should I be?”
“Yes. No. I mean, you should do whatever you want.”
After she picked up most of the pills, her gaze traveled from his feet to strongly muscled calves covered with dark hair, and then upward to the hem of his terrycloth robe. They both bent over to retrieve the pills at the same time, bumping their heads in the process.
“Ow!” Madison held one hand to the top of her head as she straightened.
He gathered the pills and the bottle and handed it to her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She noticed him looking at her slippers.
“A gift from Jen,” she confessed.
“Nice.”
She smiled, determined to act natural, show him she could handle this living arrangement without turning into a complete idiot every time he said two words to her. Although, it wasn’t easy considering he looked ruggedly sexy. “I want to apologize for last night,” she told him as she slid the pills into the bottle. “I don’t know what got into me.”
“No need,” he said, his voice terse. “Was there something else?”
She shuddered at seeing her reflection on the aluminum paneling of the refrigerator behind him. Seeing her tangled hair and cartoon slippers, knowing she had tried to seduce him last night, made her stomach roil. “I was hoping you could give me a ride to my house this morning so I could get my car. I think I’ll go to the center today. If that’s a problem, though, I could give Jen a call.”
He walked past her, making his way to the other side of the kitchen where he retrieved a set of keys from a desk in the corner. “Here. Feel free to drive the Lexus while you’re living here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Not at all.” He gestured toward the kitchen door that led to the garage. “There’s a garage door opener inside the glove box.”
“This is very generous of you, especially since loaning me your car was not part of our deal. I plan to get the rest of my belongings after work and then it should be smooth sailing from here on out. The worst is over. Not that marrying you was ‘the worst,’ I just meant—”
“It’s okay.” He held up a hand. “You don’t have to explain. Jamie invited us to his place for dinner tonight. Does seven o’clock work for you?”
She nodded. They both turned toward the sound of somebody entering the house.
“Well, hello,” Chris said as he swept into the kitchen and set a grocery bag on the counter. His girlfriend, Pam, followed close behind with another bag filled with fresh produce.
“You both look awful,” Pam said in a cheerful voice. “Nice slippers,” she told Madison before leaning toward Chris. “I thought you said they weren’t sleeping together.”
Chris gave Jackson an apologetic shrug of his broad shoulders before he turned to Pam and said, “It’s none of our business.”
Madison reached for the Tylenol. “We didn’t—”
“Chris is right,” Jackson interrupted. “It’s nobody’s business.”
“Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Pam scoffed, looking at Jackson.
Madison located a glass, filled it with water, and swallowed both Tylenol in one gulp.
Pam watched her. “Overdid it a little, huh?”
“You could say that,” Madison agreed.
Pam looked at Jackson. “Your face still looks awful. You’ve got to stop fighting with other men. It’s so barbaric.” She put a hand to her hip. “If you two aren’t even ‘an item’ I really don’t understand why you would have cared who she danced with to begin with.”
Madison busied herself with returning the Tylenol to the pantry. She tried to escape unnoticed, but Chris stopped her. “Why don’t you eat something before you go? I’ll make you and Jackson one of my famous Western omelets.”
“I would love to, but I need to get going.” She looked at Jackson, but he didn’t try to stop her.
Pam came to her side, lifted her hand and admired her ring. “That is some rock. Did you see her ring, Chris?”
“Yes, I did,” Chris answered happily. “Jackson did a great job picking it out.”
“Jamie picked it out,” Jackson said.
Pam rolled her eyes. “You’ve married a winner, haven’t you? Did he get up on the wrong side of the bed again?”
Madison shrugged.
“He always gets up on the wrong side of the bed,” Chris chimed in. “You know that.”
“Are you two here to make breakfast,” Jackson wanted to know, “or are you here to make my life more miserable?”
“I’ll see you all later,” Madison said before heading upstairs.
~~~
“Do you have to be so tough on her?” Chris asked.
Jackson pushed his plate away. “Tough on her? Look at my face. And this ring,” he added, holding up his hand. “I don’t wear jewelry.”
“You don’t do a lot of things. And get your own ring. Collin wants his ring back. Yesterday Madison told me she married you because of some kids at CFC. If this is so difficult for you, why don’t you just write her a check and send her on her way?”
“It’s more complicated than that,” Jackson said, but he wasn’t about to explain. Jamie already knew Heather’s part in all of this. Nobody else needed to know the details. Chris thought Jackson had agreed to marry Madison because of the Bingham contract. He knew nothing of Heather’s involvement in all of this.
Hell, Jackson hadn’t expected everyone to attach themselves to Madison so quickly. Married less than twenty-four hours and she already had Chris rooting for her. If Chris ever found out that Jackson didn’t intend to stay married long enough for her to collect her inheritance, he and Pam probably wouldn’t bother talking to him at all.
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