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“The islands have a history for that.” Rodger nodded. “I heard that Swan fella from Swans Island was in on the original tea party.”
“Let’s not stray too far off topic,” the mayor reminded the men.
“Although the mayor and I could afford additional taxes,” Rodger said, “I’m sticking with the majority.”
So both men had deep pockets and ample property to tax. Jon looked to Maddie for an additional point of view.
“The board has the pulse of the people on this issue, too. Everyone I talk to, friends and clients, have made it quite clear that any raise in taxes is out of the question.”
He printed in his notebook. NO TAXES. He held it up for the board members to visualize. They grinned their approval.
“Coffee break,” Denky shouted.
With a scruff of chairs, everyone scrambled over to the coffeemaker. Each man grabbed a white mug emblazoned with his name in bright red letters. Maddie’s had Barbra printed on it while Jon’s was blank. Packets of powdered milk and sugar were passed around.
“No donuts?” Fred frowned at the mayor. “It was your turn.”
“No,” he replied. “It was—”
Jon snagged his cup of black coffee and sidled over next to Maddie. She blew on her steamy mug before saying, “I’m supposed to ask you to dinner for tomorrow night and to invite you as our houseguest for the weekend.”
“You are?” he asked, surprised.
“You the consultant, not you my lover,” she whispered. “Either way, we both know it’s out of the question.”
With understanding, he nodded as old man Denky waved them back over. It seemed the short break was finished. He took his seat and listened as the other members worked out the donut crisis. In the end, Barbra was supposed to have supplied the sweets, but she was absent so they excused her.
Once he had everyone’s attention again, he asked, “What about industry?”
“Did he say industry?” Old man Denky cupped his ear.
“Yes, he did.” Fred sipped calmly. “We have industry. Lobstering.”
“I mean bigger guns than several hundred lobster fisherman.” Jon eyed the group, one at a time. Each shook his head no.
The mayor leaned forward toward him. “We don’t want a factory coming in to pollute our land and water, nor do we want the noise pollution from heavy equipment.”
“Here’s the overview.” He wrote in his notebook again. “No industry. No taxes. No tourists.” So far they’d covered what they didn’t want. He was about to broach what they did want, when chairs scraped and everyone stood up.
“That about sums it up.” Elmer rinsed his mug in the rest room sink, grabbed his helmet from a chair seat, and limped toward the door favoring his right foot. “See you Monday morning at physical therapy.”
“Yes,” Maddie said, sternly. “We’ll talk then.”
Old man Denky rinsed and moseyed out the door next, calling out a loud, “Good night. See you Sunday for the golf game.”
Rodger collected the remaining mugs before joining Fred and the mayor. “Who’s bringing the donuts next meeting so there’s no mix up?”
Confused, Jon cornered Maddie. “Is the meeting over?” Her “yes” had his mind scrambling for an alternate plan. “I’ll have to fax my suggestions to your father’s office. Let him sort out the board’s opinions on my ideas and send me a reply.” He smiled, wide. He couldn’t help himself. Just looking at her made him feel good. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon. Guess what? I’m an uncle. My sister had a baby girl.”
“Congratulations.” Her eyes glimmered warmly before she glanced over her shoulder at the men yakking about whether they preferred cake or yeast donuts. “Take care of yourself.” After mouthing him a kiss, she darted for the door, all sexy legs and defined calves in her high heels. His heart and dick slammed at the sight.
“Jon,” the mayor called to him. As the last glimmer of her skirt fluttered out the door, he turned toward the men. “Rodger tells me that you’re homeless. Barbra would kill me if I didn’t insist we put you up at Tidewater tonight.”
“Tidewater’s the Bain estate,” Fred added.
“I couldn’t impose,” Jon said. Maddie will kill me, he thought.
“I won’t take no for an answer. Barbra wants to meet you. Insisted we invite you for dinner tomorrow evening and to stay on as our guest for the weekend.”
“I’m shoving off,” Fred said, interrupting.
“Me too.” Rodger walked out behind Fred.
Jon shoved his hands into his pockets. “Thank your wife for the invitations, but I’m taking the morning ferry back.” Inwardly, he grinned, imagining Maddie’s face if he happened to turn up at the Bain breakfast table.
“You and Barbra can hash that out in the morning, but you still need a bed for tonight.” The mayor rested his hand on Jon’s shoulder. “How do think the meeting went?”
“I have an excellent handle on what the islanders don’t want, but no idea on what they do want.”
The mayor flipped the lock on the door as he held it open. “You should make it a point to talk to Barbra. No one knows Bain islanders better than she does.”
At the bottom of the stairs, the mayor took his leave. “I have some people to see before I call it a night. Take Shore Drive, but don’t turn off at the birthday cake house. Our place is at the island’s end.”
Jon sat in the Jag without turning the key. Besides Barbra’s expertise, there were other benefits to staying at Tidewater.
Sneaking into Maddie’s bedroom in the middle of the night.
Making love to her in the very bed she’d sleep in until they met again.
Waking with her warm body spooned next to his while he nudged her round tush with his morning boner.
But what about their pact? Maddie said she wouldn’t meet him next year if he wasn’t off the island by morning.
She never mentioned a word about where he spent his last night.
Chapter Nineteen
“Are you crazy?” Maddie opened the front door at Tidewater, slammed it shut, and cracked it open again.
“I’m here for a sleepover.” Forcing his foot through a sliver of an opening, Jon wedged his body in sideways, bumping her leg with his laptop.
“Oh, no, you’re not.” She pressed her body weight against the door but didn’t shove, afraid to crease his skull. His dark eyes pleaded for her to admit him. Instead, she dropped a short kiss to his lips. “Go, now.”
But it was too late. A whirr vibrated behind her and a pinch-nosed voice rang out. “Who’s at the door this time of evening?”
She gave him a warning scowl before pulling the oak door open wider. “It’s Jon Matthews, the consultant.”
“What’s he doing here now? Dinner is at six tomorrow evening.”
He stepped forward. “Sorry to disturb you, but the mayor invited me to spend the night.” Maddie’s eyes bugged, but that didn’t deter him. “A fire at the Harbor Inn left me with nowhere to sleep but in my car.”
“We heard about Rodger’s mishap. What a dreadful oversight on everyone’s part not to consider your sleeping arrangements. Of course, come in.”
But he was already in, with his overnight bag and his laptop and his cat-in-the-cream grin.
“I’m Barbra Bain Powell.” Her mother extended her graceful hand. “You’ve met Maddie, I presume.”
“Yes, I have.” He took Barb’s hand. “Jon Matthews.”
Then Barb did what she did best, issued orders. “Maddie, rouse Rita to make up the bed in the, let’s see…” She tapped her manicured fingernails on the arm of her wheelchair. “Yes, put Jon in the red room. We’ll be in the living room.”
And just like that, Maddie’s lover and her mother were holed up alone in the house where her deepest secrets dwelled. The man had broken every rule of their short, intimate relationship.
After disturbing Rita, the housekeeper, and Ben, her husband, in the middle of their reality show, she trott
ed back to the living room as fast as her high-heeled feet could sprint. Right about now, spiking Jon with a pointy heel sounded like an ideal stress reliever. With every click across the marble floor, ultimatums echoed.
He had better watch himself around her mother.
He’d better not interfere.
He’d better keep Maddie’s secrets, and his distance from her in the large house.
He’d better be gone by morning.
By the time she entered the living room, Barb was taking her leave. “Time for my medication.” With a flip of her motor, she wheeled away.
Maddie muttered to him between clenched teeth. “Stay in your room and don’t speak to her again.”
“Is your bedroom anywhere near mine?” He arched a brow.
“She’s lethal. You’re league-less compared to her league. She’ll have your tongue and heart out before you know what hit you.”
“I swear—” Raising his right hand, he moved nearer with each step. She could feel his body heat closing in. “I won’t tell Barb anything about you and her. Or you and me. She wants to talk about methodologies for raising revenue for the island.”
His lips touched hers. She’d backed into an ancient samovar. Fear of breakage kept her lips sealed to his sizzling, enticing ones.
And who was she fooling with that excuse?
He tasted as good as he had yesterday. His mouth molded hers to perfection, hot and persuasive. Fantasies danced in her mind. Her stomach dipped, as she wondered what other fascinating sexual positions he could contrive. Almost made her forget where they were and who could be watching.
Until Rita and Ben knocked on the door. She and Jon jumped apart. The husband and wife team had made up the bed in the red room and taken Jon’s things upstairs. Glad there wasn’t anything else, they scurried back to their TV program.
No longer senseless and breathless, Maddie ascended the oak staircase with Jon. He cupped her elbow. “Quite the showcase.”
“Great banister for sliding down when I was younger and Barb was inland.” Now opposite the banister a lift had been installed to accommodate her mother’s wheelchair.
“How many bedrooms are there?” He glanced around when they reached the top of the stairs. “And which one is yours?”
His hushed voice sounded loud enough to bounce off every door up and down the hallway. “Shh, don’t even mouth the words. Barb will hear you.” Grabbing his hand, she hurried him along. But contact with his warm palm, so capable of stroking her with just the right amount of pressure, and his long fingers, which knew just where to delve to drive her over the edge, outdid her purpose.
“I won’t even think them if you’ll just point.”
Dropping his hand, which was a good idea anyhow, she nodded toward her bedroom. “There.”
“What color? Mine’s red I assume.”
“Mine’s—”
“Pink.” He grinned.
“Not. I was never a pink little girl, just a Bain.”
Tugging her to a stop, he smacked a light kiss onto her forehead. “I’m sorry for that. You’re adorable. Somewhat of a tomboy, but cute and pink all the same.”
Now why did he have to go and say something so sweet? Her heart felt warm and gushy. Briefly, she considered dragging him into her bedroom and thanking him properly, but the sound of a motorized chair humming in the suite at the end of the hall numbed the loving feeling.
He whispered near her ear, “The high heels kill the girlish look. With those on, you give me a hard-on.”
“You’re too easy, Jon Matthews.” She winked and moved two doors down to the bedroom he’d occupy for one long, tempting night.
“Whose room is between ours?” he asked.
“My father’s.”
“That has a certain counterbalance to it?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Daddy’s girl.” He raised a dark brow. “I’ll bet you a lobster dinner you measure every man you meet by his standard.”
“I think that’s a discussion better left for next year.” She swung the door open to the red room.
“Whit-whew.” Jon’s whistle was low. “Do you put all your guests in here?”
“Some.” Maddie glanced around her least favorite of the twelve bedrooms. The room looked like a massacre had taken place in Victorian surroundings. The walls were what Barb called, “Oxford red,” but the rest of the world considered blood red.
“Do they survive to tell about it?” He flung open the heavy red velvet draperies and moonlight filtered in.
Shadows glanced off his body, highlighting places Maddie remembered exploring and wouldn’t mind rediscovering. His body was lean, firm, sexy, and had on way too many clothes. Naked, he made her pant and moan and want to do his bidding. She glanced away before she gave in to her baser instincts and stripped him down for her amusement and pleasure.
He bounced onto the four-poster bed, patting the mattress next to him. “Maybe you could stay until I fall asleep. Or longer. I might have nightmares alone in here.”
“We’ll leave the lamp on.” With a clink, clink, she wriggled her fingers beneath the dangling crystals of the hurricane lamp next to the bed. Soon, a rosy glow haloed Jon, the mattress, and his able-to-give-her-multiple-orgasms body.
She sucked in her breath. “Be brave. Good night.”
When she fled the bedroom, she almost knocked over her father about to rap on Jon’s door. Talk about a close call. Dashing back to her own room, she jumped into a cold shower.
Around midnight she awoke to the whirr of the wheelchair and the rumble of low voices. She tiptoed down the hall, barefoot. Sure enough, her mother and father were together in Barb’s suite. How unusual.
“Maddie…is that you?” A sleep-rumpled Jon, wearing green pajamas, stuck his head out of the door like a turtle peeping out of its shell.
“Nice pjs if you’re a tortoise,” she said, softly.
“Your father lent them to me when he arrived home, in case I sleep-walked.”
Shoving him inside the door, she followed him and quietly clicked the latch shut. “What’s going on down the hall?” She crossed her arms over her chest to discourage him from gaping at the vee-neckline of her black-and-white, umpire-striped nightshirt.
“I don’t know, but they’ve been mumbling for almost an hour. Isn’t that allowed?”
“It’s not normal. I don’t ever recall Dad being in her room at night.”
“They must’ve once. How else did you get here?” Leaning in close, he trapped her between his green-clad body and the door. He smelled spicy and so were the signals he gave off.
As he twisted a strand of her hair around his finger, his breath tickled her neck. She could feel his swelling length against her crotch through his loose pajamas. It took a lot of effort to keep her arms crossed and not wrap them around his neck.
“I should go back to my own room.”
“I’d like to see your room.” His low voice thrummed through her. His body weight seared her through their light cotton nightclothes. “I bet you hung that picture of the crazy-eyed loon in there. I miss him.”
“Another time. A brighter time.” Daylight was what she had in mind. Not really, but it should’ve been.
“I don’t have any objections to turning lights on. I like watching you. The way you sigh and how your sexy eyes become dark, almost purple, when you come.”
She almost buckled, but reminders of her parents down the hall stopped her. Her spine snapped to attention.
“It’s yellow. My bedroom is yellow.” She dropped her arms to her sides and slipped a hand behind her back, fumbling for the doorknob. The peaked nipples of her breasts poked his chest, the sensation achingly exciting. “You’d clash.”
As she slithered out the cracked door and into the hall, he offered, “I’ll take the pajamas off.”
Sleeping after that was difficult. Her ears stayed on alert for sounds of her father leaving her mother’s suite. While smothering her face in he
r percale-covered pillow did nothing to blot out visuals of Jon, minus his pajamas. The naked man looked sassy and sexy, and she liked everything about him way too much for the occasional relationship she needed.
Daylight dawned slowly. She would’ve liked to duck breakfast and bolt for the clinic, but no way was she leaving him alone with her mother or her father. If she had to keep eating scrambled eggs until he departed for the ferry, so be it.
Jon came down the sweeping staircase, wearing his last clean pair of khaki pants and lugging his bag and laptop. He’d tried debugging the computer last night to keep his mind off Maddie, but no go. Now, he was raring to get off the island and get his hands on his new baby niece while he figured out a way to have Maddie full-time.
Just then, the mayor stepped from a room off the foyer, blocked his exit, and skidded him to a full stop on the marble-polished floor.
“I thought I heard someone. Dining room is through here.” He directed Jon to leave his bags and join them inside. The room was occupied by a huge mahogany table that seated a dozen but was set for four.
Maddie wasn’t down yet, but her two smiling parents were.
“Did you sleep well?” The mayor passed him the toast.
“Yes.” As well as anyone could sleep in a bloody red room and not have murderous inclinations. Picking up the butter knife, he checked the edge for sharpness before smearing jam on his toast, which was strawberry and killed his appetite.
“I wish you’d reconsider staying for dinner.” Barb’s blue eyes pierced him over the rim of her floral china cup.
“I’m eager to get home. My sister had a bouncing baby girl yesterday, and I’m a proud uncle.” He smiled. “They named her Gracie.”
“Grace. What a special name.” The mayor beamed like a happy grandfather while offering him a serving platter of scrambled eggs. Jon passed with a negative wave of his hand.
“Yes, lovely name.” Barb didn’t crack a smile, and her eyes flat-lined.
She didn’t resemble anybody’s grandmother that Jon remembered. Not even Granny Greeley, their arm-wrestling dorm mother from college. But then, Barb wasn’t much on mothering, according to Maddie.