He looked down, then cut off her words. “Hold on before we face any facts.” He pressed the flashing red light at the base of his speakerphone with his other hand. “I’ve got a message. Maybe someone came through, after all. God knows I’ve hit on everyone I could think of who could fill the bill.”
“You what?” Madison gasped.
“Discreetly, of course,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”
She bit her lip and crossed to drop down in the straight-backed chair facing the desk. Everyone knew she needed a husband by now. She glared at Ron as the phone beeped, then a voice she recognized immediately was speaking.
“Mr. Dial, this is Rachel Harrington...Montana. I think I managed to find someone to take the assignment. He’ll be at your office around eight this evening to meet with you and discuss the arrangements. I hope it works out for you. I’m leaving, but my office will be in contact tomorrow. Call if there’s a problem and someone will be here to help you. Have a very Merry Christmas.”
As Ron hit the button and looked at Madison, he was grinning like an idiot. “There is still some good luck in this world. Harrington’s came through, and the Kincaids are going to be thrilled with you and your husband as houseguests in Tahoe.”
Madison cringed inside at the picture Ron’s words painted, especially when the man she imagined at her side looked suspiciously like Steven. “Yeah, thrilled.” She rotated her head again while she tried to press the tips of her fingers into the hollow at the back of her neck.
“Are you okay?” Ron asked.
She grimaced as she forced her neck back against her hands. “I’m so tight, I ache in my neck and shoulders and I’m getting a headache.”
“That I can help you with,” Ron said as he opened a side desk drawer, then took out a small brown bottle and tossed it over to her. “Take a couple of these.”
She grabbed the bottle, but shook her head. “I don’t think taking your prescription is a very smart idea.”
“It’s not a prescription. It’s totally natural—herbs and seeds and leafs and stuff. I don’t know what’s in it, but it’s not bad. Take a few and they’ll help you chill out a bit.”
“You take these?” she asked.
“When I need to.”
“You aren’t exactly a mellow person.”
He smiled at her. “Oh, you ought to see me when I don’t take them.” He waved one hand at her. “Take two. See if they help.”
She looked down at the label that listed more than a dozen herbs. “Okay, you sold me.”
He reached down behind his desk and came up with a bottle of water. “Here take them with this.”
She popped the lid on the bottle, took out two tiny white pills, tossed them into her mouth and reached for his water bottle. She had barely swallowed the pills with the tepid water when a knock sounded on the door.
Ron jumped up and hurried for the door. “Eight o’clock, right on the button.”
She put the lid back on the pill bottle as she heard Ron open the door and say, “Boy, am I glad to see you. Come on in.”
Then the person at the door spoke, and no little white pills could take away the tension that spasmed in Madison’s shoulders and neck at the sound.
“I’m from Harrington’s. My name’s Steven York.”
Chapter Six
Slowly, Madison stood and turned with the pill bottle clutched in her hand so tightly she was threatening to crush the plastic. And even though she knew Steven was there, there was no way she was prepared for the sight of him standing in the doorway.
What had been partially hidden by the night, the fog and shadows, or blurred by the glitter in the ballroom, was exposed in the glare of the artificial lights of the office. And the impact of him only intensified her foolish thought that she could walk away and forget him.
She remembered everything. His height, about six feet; his hair, sandy blond, looking as if it had been combed by his fingers being raked through it; and the way he held himself. But especially his eyes, those hazel eyes that were on her, eyes that weren’t the least bit surprised to see her in front of him.
She knew right then that he’d known about her even in the car. Yet he hadn’t said anything. A lie by omission, and it didn’t sit well with her, not any better than the way his gaze moved slowly over her. The tension in her seemed to explode and she forced herself to stand very still and not walk out and keep going to get as far as she could from him.
“Mr. York, come on in,” Ron said, almost pulling the man into the office. “Boy, are you a lifesaver.”
When the door shut, Madison wondered why she’d ever thought Ron’s office was large. It felt positively claustrophobic to her at the moment with Steven less than three feet from her.
Ron came to her side and turned to look at Steven. “Rachel came through,” Ron murmured. “What a doll.”
Rachel came through with a nightmare, Madison thought, but kept quiet as Steven looked at Ron. There was no reading his expression. Control. The eyes gave away nothing now.
“I was told to be here at eight for client approval.”
Madison almost choked on that. It sounded as if he were a piece of meat on display. And maybe he was. She was long past trying to figure that out. “I approve,” Ron said, then turned to Madison. “How about you, Madison?” Before she could say anything, Ron cut back in. “Oh, I’m sorry. Madison Smythe, Steven York.”
Madison stared at Steven as she pushed her hand with the bottle behind her back to keep him from seeing the death grip she had on it. “Why didn’t you say something before?” she said with what she thought was amazing restraint.
“What was I supposed to say?” he asked smoothly.
“You two know each other?” Ron asked.
She ignored Ron. “You never even let on you were some...some paid escort who was coming here to meet me.”
He shrugged, moving the shoulders of the well-cut, dark overcoat with the action. “I’m an employee of Harrington’s, and I’m here to do a job. If you don’t want the agency’s services, I’ll leave.”
Ron literally jumped between the two of them and looked from one to the other. “Hey, what’s going on here?”
Madison grabbed Ron by the arm with her free hand and tugged the confused man back out of the way. She had to know something right now. “When did you know you were being sent here to meet me?” she asked.
“You want to know if I had the assignment before...” He paused for a long moment before he lifted one eyebrow and finished, “Before the ballroom incident?”
“Ballroom incident?” Ron asked.
“Well, did you?” she asked, ignoring Ron and cursing the heat she knew was beginning to stain her cheeks.
“No, I didn’t, and I wouldn’t have come except Rachel said someone here was desperate for a husband and this was a special assignment.”
“Desperate?” she gasped.
“It is, it is,” Ron said quickly, but neither person looked at him.
“And you never thought to say anything in the car, like, ‘Oh, by the way, guess what?’ or even a hint about what you were going to do?”
“The Harrington Agency guarantees complete privacy and discretion. I wasn’t suppose to discuss this with anyone until I met with Mr. Dial. I was just doing my job.”
Madison was vaguely mollified by his controlled response, but she wasn’t any less frustrated or disturbed by the man himself. “I’m sure you were told you were going to work with me, so I don’t see how—”
Ron cut off her words as he stepped in again with both hands up, palms out to each person. “Okay. Stop. Hold it right there.” He made a time-out sign with his hands. “Who’s going to be the one to tell me what’s going on here?”
Madison stared at Steven, and could have sworn she saw him shift gears completely. He took a step back and brushed the sides of his open coat back to push his hands in the pockets of his gray slacks. He looked away from Madison to Ron. “I met Dr. Love—”
“Dr. Smythe,” she said quickly.
He didn’t look at her as he finished smoothly, “When her car was broken down outside the agency. I just didn’t feel free to tell her who I was at the time. I’m sorry if it’s causing any problems, but—”
“No, of course you didn’t, and it won’t,” Ron murmured. After a slanted look at Madison that all but told her to be quiet and let him handle things, he motioned Steven to one of the two chairs in front of the desk. “Please have a seat, Mr. York.” He looked at Madison. “You sit down, too.”
Madison moved back and ignored the other chair to lean against the low filing cabinets that lined the side wall. She eased her grip on the pill bottle as Steven moved with the same smooth style he’d shown all along. He slipped off his overcoat, laid it over the back of the chair, then sat down and looked at Ron.
“Okay, all I was told was you had a need for a husband figure who could pass as a corporate attorney.”
Ron rubbed his hands together as he went around the desk and dropped down in his swivel chair. “Exactly.” He eyed Steven. “And I’ve got to say, you fill the bill.” He glanced at Madison, not at all put off by the frown she knew was on her face. “He’s perfect, isn’t he, Madison?”
“Perfect,” she echoed. Perfectly slick and smooth and trained to pass as a man who was at home with wealth and power. And perfectly sexy and disturbing. Damn him.
Steven didn’t look at her again. “I’ll need details.”
Ron glanced back to Madison. “I think it’s best if you go over things with Mr. York as soon as you can.”
She sensed Steven looking in her direction, but she determinedly kept her eyes on Ron. “You can iron out the details,” she said.
“I think it’s best if you do it. You need to give Mr. York the background, let him know what the situation is going to be, and work out the logistics.”
What she needed was to get rid of this agonizing tension in her neck and the headache it was producing so she could deal with this situation. “Okay. Why don’t you work out a meeting for the two of us, then let me know. I’ve got a show to do in less than an hour.”
Before she could turn and head for the door, Steven was out of his chair and right by her. The next thing she knew, she was looking up at him, and it was all she could do not to retreat.
“Doctor, from what I’ve heard, you need my services this weekend, so I don’t think we have a lot of time to spare. I certainly don’t.”
She touched her tongue to her lips and tried to keep eye contact despite the fact the phrase my services had made her cheeks feel warm again. “Maybe tomorrow—”
“How about after your show?” he countered.
“It’s not over until midnight.”
“I know.”
She glanced past Steven at Ron, and she could tell he was waiting for her to do the sensible thing...the only thing she could do. Bracing herself, she looked back at Steven. “That isn’t too late for you?”
“I’ve got some business I need to take care of this evening, but I can be back here by midnight.”
Some business? The images in her mind refused to let her look at him without thinking about all the women he’d faced and seduced with his smile, his presence and his maleness. His very being was making her heart start to pound. How in heaven’s name could she pull off a charade like this for the weekend when it was with a man who obviously knew all the buttons to push?
But she knew she couldn’t walk away from it. Getting it over with tonight might be a good thing, then she’d have some time to get control before they headed up to Tahoe.
“All right. Midnight. Where do you want to meet?”
“I’ll come here to the station.”
“Fine,” she murmured, then cautiously moved past him, being careful not to make any contact.
“See you at midnight,” he said.
His words followed her as she opened the door and went out into the corridor. As she closed the door, she felt air go into her lungs without that tight feeling she’d had since Steven walked in. Without looking back, she headed for the studio, hoping that whatever herbs were in those pills would start to work soon.
* * *
STEVEN WATCHED THE DOOR close, then turned when Ron asked, “Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and Madison?”
“I wish I knew,” Steven murmured with unvarnished truth.
“Obviously you met earlier and it was a bad meeting.”
A bad meeting? A disturbing meeting, a frustrating meeting, a meeting that had upset his very ordered life. But bad? The only bad thing was she had a husband...and now he knew she had a temper, too. He sidestepped the memory of the kiss completely and said, “I just let her use my car phone to call her husband to come and get her.”
Ron narrowed his eyes on Steven. “Her husband came to get her?”
“Mark, with the tow truck.”
Ron nodded. “Oh, yes. Mark. The tow truck sees more of that Mustang than Madison does.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“Why can’t her husband go with her?”
“It’s not possible at the moment,” Ron said and stood, cutting off any other questions. “But I can’t tell you how vital it is that this all goes well for Madison.”
“It’s that important?”
“Yes, it is.”
Steven reached for his coat and slipped it on. “I’ll be back later for the meeting,” he said, then left the office and stepped out into the hallway.
As he walked toward the elevators, he noticed pictures on the wall interspersed with awards and plaques. The photos were glossies of the station’s on-the-air employees and technical staffs with a scattering of celebrities included. But there wasn’t one of Madison. Just a couple of certificates of achievement for the Ask Dr. Love Show. But no sign of Madison.
As he stepped into the elevator, he ran a hand roughly over his face and was infinitely thankful he’d only have to see her one more time. He’d dreaded this meeting, but anger had been a good buffer to his automatic responses to her. If she was still angry tonight, it would make things so much more simple for him.
As the doors slid shut, he decided to go back home to check in with Bishop, let him know what he was doing and spend some time with Wyatt before he went to bed, then do some work before he headed back here. But as the car slid silently down to the lobby, he could feel himself bracing for his final meeting with Madison.
* * *
WHEN STEVEN GOT HOME, he’d barely slipped off his coat and hung it on one of the brass hooks by the entry when he heard someone coming up behind him.
“Oh, it’s you, sir.”
Steven turned to Bishop. “Who were you expecting?”
The big man was all in black with a white dish towel tucked into the waistband of his pants and his hands dusted with flour. “Wyatt and his friend. They’ve been sneaking around, probably trying to look at the presents under the tree.”
“Where are they now?”
He motioned with his head toward the staircase. “I sent them up to Wyatt’s room.” He glanced at the wall clock. “He asked me to tell you he wanted to talk to you when you got home if you got here early enough.”
“Is there a problem?”
“Not that I know about. Wyatt just wanted me to give you the message.”
“I wanted to see him before he went to bed, anyway, then I have to go out again. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
“Just let me know when you’re leaving.”
“Sure.”
“I’ll be in the kitchen. I’m making some muffins for breakfast tomorrow—blueberry and apple spice.”
The man said it with a straight face, and Steven still had a hard time realizing this giant could cook better than most women he knew. He never thought he was a chauvinist, but Bishop was definitely testing his boundaries. He started for the stairs. “I’ll see you before I leave.”
He took the stairs two at a
time, up to the balcony, then crossed to Wyatt’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and as Steven reached for the knob to open it, he froze.
“The idea that you aren’t good enough for your boyfriend’s friends is ludicrous. There isn’t a value set on human beings where one’s worth more than another. And for your boyfriend to participate in that thought line, to go along with it, is unconscionable.”
It was Madison. Her voice was haunting him. Hallucinations. Then he eased the door back and saw Wyatt and Jared in the middle of the bed on their stomachs. Their heads were almost touching as they hovered over Wyatt’s radio sitting on the sheets.
A tremulous voice over the radio said, “I...I know, but he’s so great when we’re alone, and I...I...love him.”
“Then you’re approving of his treatment of you,” Madison said, and the disembodied voice was even more disturbing now than it had been the first time he’d heard it. Now he knew the woman behind it. “You have to make the choice to be a victim or to be a person of worth. Tell him he can treat you any way he wants to, or say that you’re worthwhile and won’t be treated like that. Do you understand that, Sharon?”
“Yes, Doctor, but—”
“You deserve better. You need better. And there are worse things in the world than being on your own. I need to go to a commercial and a news update right now, but hold on the line and we’ll talk some more when I come back. Now a word from one of our sponsors, the Tickle Pink Inn, the perfect getaway for—”
“Hey, Wyatt,” Steven said as he opened the door and strode into the room.
Wyatt and Jared both jumped at the sound of his voice and Jared fumbled with the radio to switch it off. Then Madison’s voice was cut off as Wyatt scrambled back at the same time Jared did. Both boys were wide-eyed from the shock of his intrusion, then Wyatt focused on him and smiled with obvious relief.
“Oh, Dad, it’s you. We thought...you know, that Bishop was coming.”
Steven crossed to the bed and dropped down on the side by Wyatt. His son’s hair was mussed and, for a moment, the boy looked so much like Jeannie that it startled Steven. Right then he knew the truth of the old statement that children are our link between the past and a reflection of our future. Wyatt was a link that could never be broken, a link to a life that was past, and a reflection of whatever life held from now on.
The Christmas Husband Page 8