Jackson pushed his chair back and stood tall. “Remove your hand from my wife or I’m afraid you might not be walking out of here on your own two legs.”
“It won’t be a pretty sight,” Madison warned.
Mr. Razzano’s eyes widened.
Barbara remained silent, as did Heather.
Steve looked thoroughly perplexed by the idea of Madison being married.
“Remove your hand now,” Jackson told Steve. “I’m not going to ask again.”
Red-faced, Steve said, “You’re all crazy!” And then he stormed off, taking himself to the bar.
“What an exciting night this is turning out to be,” Barbara exclaimed while Heather mumbled something under her breath and plopped back into her seat.
~~~
It was past midnight by the time Madison led Barbara and Heather to the door. They had all come back to the house for a nightcap and Madison was eager to see them off. “Good night,” she called, waving goodbye as their guests finally drove away. She turned toward Jackson. “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Jackson reached a hand over her shoulder, pushing the door shut with one small nudge. “Not so bad?”
They both laughed.
He looked devastatingly handsome. He’d been a perfect gentleman all night. Not only had he made her laugh more than once tonight, he’d made her want him more than she’d ever imagined wanting a man, which is why she ducked under his arm and set about gathering the porcelain cups in the dining room. When her hands were full, she headed for the kitchen.
Jackson followed close behind. “What are you trying to do to me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. For instance, that dress you’re wearing. What happened to your collection of baggy t-shirts and overalls? And where are those ridiculous eyeglasses of yours?”
She set the tea cups on the granite counter. “Who do you think you are, my father?” With a snort, she attempted to march past him, but he put out his arm to stop her. She lifted her chin. “If my ‘ridiculous’ glasses bothered you so much, you should have said something.”
“I just did.” He moved closer, close enough for her to feel the heat of his body and smell his fresh earthy scent. His eyes darkened. “You’ve been acting strange lately, and I want to know what’s gotten into you?”
“Not this again. I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s late. I’m going to bed.”
“This is what I’m talking about.” He lifted her chin with the pad of his thumb. She couldn’t help but stare at his hand, the same strong hand that had held her interest most of the night as she imagined his long, capable fingers exploring all of her. With a sigh, she pressed her cheek against his palm. She was done playing games.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. He brushed his mouth against hers and kissed her, thoroughly this time, his mouth warm, his tongue hot. With a whispered moan, she curled her arms around his neck and pressed her hips closer.
He kissed her throat, her cheek, her ear. “Is this what you want?” His words came out in a husky whisper, tingly and warm against her skin, sending chills up her spine.
“Hmmm,” she said into his mouth as his lips hovered over hers once again.
That’s all it took. He swooped her into his arms. Burying her face into the hollow of his neck, she rested against him as he carried her from the kitchen and up the stairs. He took long easy strides down the hallway and to his bedroom. Blood flowed hot through her veins, every inch of her craving his touch.
The door to his room was open and he carried her straight to his bed. Gazing at the strong line of his throat, she let out a long sigh when he laid her on the bed and brushed her hair away from her face.
As he hovered over her, gazing down at her, her insides whirred with churning anticipation. She would go mad if he didn’t kiss her again soon. He seductively outlined her lips with his finger. His gentleness and the way he was taking his time with her was agonizing torture.
“Jackson,” she said in a breathless whisper, the tip of her tongue grazing his thumb.
“What?”
“I feel as if I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life.”
“Waiting for what? Tell me.” The sound of his husky voice aroused her almost as much as having his body pressed against hers.
“Waiting for you to hold me, touch me, and make love to me all night long.”
His mouth curved into a smile. “Then you have nothing to worry about because we’ve only just begun.” His lips left a searing path over her throat. She arched into him as his hand curled around her back where he unzipped her dress and unhooked her bra. His mouth traveled over her shoulder, his jaw brushing over her skin as he removed her dress, sliding the fabric easily down to her waist.
With desire coursing through every part of her body, she reached up and unbuttoned his shirt. She ran her fingers through a dark feathering of hair that spanned across his chest and over his flat torso before disappearing under the top band of his slacks. Next, she removed his belt. His dark eyes shimmered beneath the moonlight filtering in through the window.
He lowered his head, every movement confident and sensual, arousing her to new heights with every touch. His tongue moved across her breast. She dug her fingers into his hair and brought him impossibly closer.
Before long he raised his head so he could nibble on her ear, teasing her with his rough, throaty voice as he painted a mental picture of what he was going to do to her next. Her body sizzled with anticipation as he slid her dress down from her waist and tossed it aside. Bringing his mouth back to hers, he coaxed her lips open so he could kiss her deeply while his fingers slid downward over her hips and between her thighs. His warm breath spilled across her neck and shoulders as he removed her lacy pink undergarments. “What are you feeling now?”
“Hot,” she said, “alive.” Caressing his strong shoulders, the moment his hand slid between her legs, she dropped her head against the soft pillows and urged him onward.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asked, his voice husky, his breathing uneven.
“Show me.”
She felt him hard against her hips.
His mouth covered hers again as she fumbled with his zipper as if time were running out. She’d never felt so desperate—a primitive need like nothing she’d ever experience before consumed her. She tugged at his pants, frustration gaining the upper hand. She needed him now, this instance.
Devilish charm lit up Jackson’s eyes as he took hold of her wrists and pushed her arms back, flat against the mattress.
“What are you doing? I need to touch you. I want you now,” she commanded.
A cocky grin curved his lips before he lowered his head and nibbled at her ear. “What is it you want exactly?”
“You,” she said, her voice a throaty whisper. “I want you.”
His warm breath left goose bumps against her neck.“How badly do you want me?”
“So badly I might expire right here and now if you don’t do something about it…and quickly.”
Satisfied, he let go of her wrists. He then slid off the bed and hastily removed the rest of his clothes. He pulled a condom from the bedside table and slipped it on. By the time he was pressed up against her again, her patience had worn thin, making him grin.
She wriggled against him, her hips arching.
He kissed her mouth. “Not yet, sweetheart.”
“You’re not playing fair.”
“This isn’t a game.”
“No,” she said. “You’re right. It’s not a game.” Her palm brushed against his jaw. She wanted to tell him she loved him, but she knew it was too soon. Her fingers pressed into his shoulders, splayed against his backside when he entered her.
There was no holding back once he finally gave in, giving her what she wanted. Giving and giving until she cried out as he sank lower, hard and deep. Her legs quivere
d. This was her husband making love to her; the same man who had dared to believe in her and take a chance. The man whose mere gaze made her feel alive and beautiful.
He kissed her neck, her shoulder, her face as his hands slid beneath the curve of her bottom. A second rippling sensation erupted, and then shattered, winding down into small pleasurable pulses.
After a moment, their heartbeats slowed and he slid to her side, leaving one hand to rest across her stomach. Content, she burrowed her head between his shoulder and chest. “Jackson?”
“Hmmm?” He kissed the top of her head.
“I had no idea making love could be so good.”
“Neither did I.”
She lifted her head, thinking he was teasing until she saw the earnestness on his face. “Really?”
He rolled over, pinning her body beneath his. “Really.”
“It seems that I keep breaking my own rules.”
“Rules are made to be broken.”
Were hearts made to be broken, too? she wondered. “What are we going to do now?”
“I guess we’ll have to get married.”
She smiled and then kissed his throat, prompting him to roll to his back and prop his arms beneath his head. He reminded her of an ad in a magazine—a charismatic, male model. Untouchable. Way too gorgeous to be real or to be looking at her as if he was enchanted by her, too.
Chapter Twelve
Ten weeks as man and wife and Jackson felt as eager to see Madison this morning as he had after spending their first night together. At the moment, he could hear her shuffling through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom as he lay in bed with a bad cold.
Releasing a helpless groan, he hid a smile when she rushed from the bathroom and made her way to his side. She gave the thermometer a shake before guiding it gently under his tongue. Next, she placed a cool palm on his forehead.
“I’m late for work,” she told him. “If I can get away, I’ll come home at lunch to check on you.”
He tried to speak with the thermometer in his mouth, but she gave him the look that told him he’d better not try it. The same one-raised-brow look she’d been giving him whenever he worked long hours, didn’t eat right, or cursed at the driver in front of them on their way to work.
“Don’t forget I’m still on probation,” she told him. “I happen to take my responsibilities seriously.” The thermometer beeped. “100.2o. That’s it. I’m calling the doctor.”
Jackson grabbed hold of her hand. “No doctor. There’s only one thing you can do for me now.”
“Some kind of cure-all?”
“Exactly.”
Her lips curved. “Go on.”
He pulled her to his chest. “Stay here with me today. We’ll read that book of yours. One Hundred Ways to Please—”
“And that is going to get you up and running?”
“I don’t know about running, but it would definitely get me up.”
She shook her head at his ridiculous teasing. “I’ve got to get to work.” She pushed away from him and retrieved her jacket from an overstuffed chair nearby. “Rumor has it that my boss has the disposition of a grouchy troll whenever one of his employees is late.”
“You’re wrong,” Jackson declared. “I happen to know your boss. He’s a great guy.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said, admiring her legs. “As a matter of fact, I’ve heard many people say he’s downright charming.”
“You just want to get me into trouble,” she said. “I have to go. There are at least two contracts that need to go out today. Jamie will panic if I don’t get there on time.”
“Forget about Jamie. As I was saying,” Jackson went on, ignoring her pleas, “your boss is a fair man who knows all about exceptions to the rules.”
Once again Jackson found himself mesmerized by her sparkling blue eyes. Over the past weeks they’d made love more times than he could count, but every time felt like the first—exciting, exhilarating…completely unexpected.
“What kind of exceptions?” she asked, her hips swaying seductively as she walked back toward him.
“For example,” he said, “your boss might ask a particular employee why he or she was late. If the reason had merit, he’d let it go.”
“Just like that?”
He snapped his fingers. “Just like that.”
She leaned forward and kissed his forehead, unknowingly giving him a glimpse of creamy skin through her blouse. His pulse quickened.
“Jackson, you’re burning up.”
“I already told you what you have to do. We haven’t even tried that ice cube trick you read about or those candles you mentioned.”
She laughed. “You’re beyond help. If I knew how twisted you were, I never would have agreed to marry you.”
“We made a deal. It’s too late.”
“Yes, but our bargain didn’t include ice cubes and melted wax.”
“The wax was your idea,” he reminded her.
She arched one beautiful brow and said, “I read about the wax trick in an old issue of Cosmopolitan. I never would have thought up such a thing all on my own.”
“We’ll have to renew your subscription.”
She chuckled and Jackson knew she was wearing down, losing the battle.
“If you didn’t make me beg for you every night, I wouldn’t come up with such ridiculous ideas,” Madison teased.
“And I might never have seen your creative side.”
“Melted wax would probably hurt.”
“Stay home. We’ll find out.”
He reached for her hand. This time she surrendered. As he knew she would. He was feverish, all right. Burning up with passion and fever, but no less energetic as he stripped her naked, one piece of clothing at a time.
Suddenly she slid off the bed and headed for the door.
“You can’t leave now.”
Standing before him, she looked beautiful, a work of art that would surely linger in his mind for eternity. Her skin was flawless, the pins from her hair loose, her lips pink and moist.
“I’ll be right back.”
She returned a few minutes later and climbed onto the bed. She made him place his hands beneath his head while she cleverly used the ice cube she’d retrieved to explore his body, using it to trace a spiraling path down his chest, her tongue trailing close behind. She was merciless—wouldn’t allow him to touch her.
She smelled like citrus and flowers and once again he found himself thoroughly enchanted. This time when they made love she didn’t beg at all. He did enough begging for the both of them.
~~~
“Jamie is going to have my head,” Madison said a few hours later as she came back into the room, dressed in a different suit altogether as she collected her discarded clothes.
“You may be right,” he said. “Jamie’s not as understanding as I am. He used to be known as Pinkman at the office.”
“Pinkman?”
“Yes, because of all the pink slips he handed out.”
“Now you tell me.” Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, she slipped on her pumps. “Chris and Pam returned from Hawaii last night, so they should be here soon to feed you. That should make you feel better since I have the distinct impression you’re getting tired of my cooking."
"You call that cooking?"
Smiling, she slid a hand over his chest. “But you didn’t marry me for my skills as a chef, remember?”
“Why did I marry you?” Amusement flickered in his eyes.
Because it was love at first sight, she thought, willing him to say the words. “Because you’re a nice guy,” she said instead. “And you’re a sucker for a woman in distress.”
She kissed his stubbled cheek, retrieved her purse from the bedside table, and headed for the door. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later.”
“That’s it? You really are leaving me here to fend for myself?”
“Don’t even start.” She got as far as the door.
�
��But I thought you and that boss of yours had something special.”
“Oh, we do,” she said. “But I’m afraid sometimes that’s just not enough.”
Jackson watched her disappear, wondering if there was some sort of hidden meaning in her words. You’re right, Madison, he said to himself. The boss doesn’t like you. He adores you, lusts after you. And in two weeks, if he lets you walk out that door for good, he’s an idiot.
~~~
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jen asked.
Madison smoothed the tablecloth over the dining room table. “Of course, I’m sure. I love him and I’m going to tell him. What better day to do it, then on his birthday? He thinks I’m going out with you and Pam tonight, so he’ll be surprised.”
“It’s too soon,” Jen said.
Pam snipped off the stems of a dozen red roses and plunked them into a vase. “I think it’s wonderfully romantic.”
Madison ignored Pam and said, “I thought you said you weren’t going to rush things.”
Madison placed two crystal candleholders on the table. “What’s wrong with you, Jen? You’re not the type to worry. What happened to the go-for-it, tell-him-how-you-feel, say-it-like-it-is friend I know so well?”
“She’s standing right here,” Jen said in a serious tone. “Seducing Jackson was one thing, but telling him you love him is downright suicidal. You said yourself you weren’t sure if he feels the same about you. You’re still too vulnerable. Pouring salt into an old wound isn’t something I recommend to people I care about.”
Smiling, Madison wrapped her arms around Jen and gave her a hug. “I’ve put a lot of thought into this, I promise you. After I tell Jackson how I feel, I know I can handle whatever it is he has to say—or not say. Whether he realizes it or not, he loves me, too. I can hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch.”
“This is exactly what you wanted so badly to avoid,” Jen reminded her. “But no. I pushed and prodded until you had no choice but to go through with this ridiculous marriage.”
“Madison is right,” Pam cut in. “Jackson hasn’t been the same since he met her. He’s kinder, gentler, a little more patient. He’s in love. I know he is, and so does Chris.”
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