Reclaiming His Legacy

by Dani Wade

* * *

  I had options. When I chose to be with my husband, I knew what I was giving up. But not the pain that would follow.

  I knew the man I was leaving behind would be vindictive, and I knew I would be punished, but I had no idea he would take it out on my family like this.

  Madison read the lines once more. Many times her mother had mentioned making choices, but for the most part her words were about routine decisions. This was the first Madison had read about a vindictive man. What did that mean?

  A quick glance over at the clock told her that Blake would be here any moment. He had offered to take her to an event at the ASTRA Museum that Trinity hadn’t been able to attend. Madison wanted to make a good impression. To represent the charity in the best way possible. Hopefully, with Blake by her side, things would go smoothly. They’d be no embarrassment or fumbling.

  She needed to get her shoes on before he arrived. She set the journal on her bedside table and crossed to her closet. Just as she reached it, she heard the book tumble to the floor. Crossing back, she picked it up to return it to the table, only to have something fall from the back.

  It looked like several pieces of paper folded together. Madison could see her mother’s handwriting on the back of the outside sheet. That was odd. She’d never found anything more than bookmarks stuck into her mother’s journals. Only she didn’t have time to look at it right now. She laid the packet on top of the journal and returned to the closet for her shoes.

  When she went outside a few minutes later, Blake’s wolf whistle made her smile as she crossed over to the car. She slid into her seat and was surprised when he leaned across for a quick kiss. This felt more like a real date. So far she and Blake seemed to only have out-of-the-ordinary times together. But this felt real and good. Madison would be more than happy to have a quiet, normal date.

  “So,” he said as he got them on the road, “I was wondering how you would feel about meeting my little sister.”

  For a moment, Madison felt like a bomb had exploded in the car. She glanced over at him as if to say, Did you feel that? The only indication that his request was unusual even for him was his super tight grip on the steering wheel.

  So he knew what he was doing, and the fact that he was willing to still do it filled her with excitement. She also felt a touch of nervousness, because what did she know about spending time with a seven-year-old? Granted, she’d spent plenty of time with children at Maison de Jardin. But she had a feeling that, like Blake, his little sister would be a whole different breed of people.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  Blake chuckled. “I was hoping you could tell me. I’ve rarely spent time with her except overseas and then we weren’t really doing kid stuff. She seemed fascinated by me probably because everything else about being in Europe bored her.”

  Madison laughed. “I doubt that. I find you fascinating all the time.”

  Her heart sped up when he reached over and squeezed her hand. It felt so normal, so right. Madison wondered if she had a right to be this happy.

  “What does your sister like to do?”

  “I have no idea. I think she likes animals? She seems pretty girlie. Likes dresses and the color pink.”

  “Maybe we could take her to City Park? It’s not too hot if we go in the morning. They have some animals, playgrounds and lots of shade there.” Was that too mundane for this child? It was going to be a long day if Madison worried herself over everything. She just had to stop and treat Abigail like any other kid she was taking on an adventure.

  “Sure. Then maybe lunch out?”

  “Good.” Madison tried not to sound out of breath. This would be good.

  She was really starting to relax and enjoy their time together after checking in at the museum and talking with a few people she already knew. Blake’s ability to carry a conversation in a social setting really helped her relax. She knew she shouldn’t be dependent on having a wing man, but it wouldn’t hurt for these first few events, right?

  She reminded herself of that as he excused himself to go make a call to check on Abigail. Sherry had been scared enough by the events the other day that she now gave him regular updates, despite whatever her boss might say. Madison’s mind was just boggled by the thought. Blake hadn’t come right out and said it, but Madison could tell that his father had to be emotionally abusive or highly manipulative. She had too much experience with these types of situations to not have a strong suspicion about what was going on.

  She strolled around the rotunda in the museum, studying the various paintings highlighted here. It was a gorgeous space, one that she enjoyed standing in for a while whenever she visited the ASTRA. As she stood in front of one particular painting, a voice interrupted her thoughts.

  “I never realized how much you look like your mother.”

  Startled, Madison whirled around to find herself facing a man of average height, looking slick in a black suit and blue tie that matched his vividly hued eyes. She was startled, because his eyes were exactly like Blake’s, except cold where Blake’s were heated.

  The man studied her a moment more, then said, “Remarkable.” He held out his hand. “My name is Armand.”

  “Madison, Madison Landry.” She sounded out of breath to her own ears, and quickly tried to regain her poise.

  “I am aware. Your mother was a beautiful woman, in a class by herself.”

  Madison shifted on her heels. Though the man was smiling, she felt uneasy. “How did you know her?”

  All that Madison knew about her mother’s life, outside of her own interactions with her, was from her journals. Which didn’t touch on anything before her marriage, except her relationship with her elderly parents. Curiosity swept through her despite her nerves. After all, no one that she’d met at these events had mentioned knowing her mother, despite their pretty strong resemblance.

  “Your mother was well known in my social circles,” he said, his slight Cajun accent making the words sound exotic. “Before she...removed herself.”

  Again the man’s intense gaze gave her a slight sense of déjà vu. Where was Blake? Suddenly she wanted him with her right now.

  “Her beauty would have lit up any social setting, her grace a complement to any household.”

  Why did it sound like he was talking about Jacqueline as if she were an object? “My mother was a very gracious, caring woman.”

  With one elegant brow arched, his expression turned almost cold. “That I wouldn’t know.”

  “Then you must not have met her in person.” So many people’s lives had been touched by her mother’s authentic nature. But she also knew that those types of interactions didn’t really make themselves known in this kind of social setting.

  As if he read her mind, he said, “Circumstances often dictate what we learn about a person.”

  True, but that was kind of a strange thing for him to say to her. Madison found herself unconsciously taking a step back and forced herself to be still.

  She’d been curious about her mother’s life before her marriage for so long that she wanted to ask questions. She’d never met someone who knew her mother then. But something about the man’s demeanor, the cold way he spoke, kept those questions locked inside.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Blake pass through the doorway into the arch. Relief swept over her.

  Blake’s eyes widened as he approached. She hadn’t been mistaken. His blue eyes matched the colder ones of the man in front of her, who was staring her down as if she were a subject to be studied rather than a person to be known.

  “Father!”

  The steel behind Blake’s voice startled her.

  Armand turned slowly to face his son. Madison was surprised to see Blake’s expression go from anger to almost a total blank. As if he completely locked himself down in his father’s presence.

  “Son, how could you
leave such a beautiful woman unattended and vulnerable?”

  There it was. That sense that though the words were innocuous, the meaning behind them was almost a threat. Why was that?

  As Blake approached, he stepped right up to Madison’s side, closer than he had all afternoon, and placed his hand squarely at the small of her back. The connection helped steady her skyrocketing emotions.

  Given her knowledge of Blake’s family, she had no doubts that Armand was an abuser. Whether he’d physically attacked the children, she wasn’t sure. But the rise of the hair at the nape of her neck meant she sensed danger in his presence. Instinctively she braced her legs and straightened her back, as if she expected him to fly at her at any moment.

  “I was checking with Sherry on Abigail. Remember her?”

  It was hard to imagine this man as the father of a seven-year-old. It explained a lot about Blake. And made her heart ache for Abigail.

  “Oh, yes. She’s been most...helpful.”

  Madison felt like she was listening to a conversation where half the dialogue was missing. As if father and son were communicating telepathically. She could feel her hackles rise despite the innocuous words. What was happening here? It almost seemed as if they were silently challenging each other in a quest for dominance she didn’t understand.

  Alarms were going off in her head despite how calm everyone was. She knew without a doubt this man should not be left alone with the child.

  She wasn’t sure why, but that was why she had instincts. Something they taught the tenants at Maison de Jardin to never discount. Her heart raced. She wanted to be anywhere but under this man’s gaze.

  Blake didn’t even look in her direction. He kept his eyes trained on his father, as if one look away might allow him to strike. Somehow Blake’s watchfulness kept his father in check.

  “She is indeed beautiful,” his father said.

  Suddenly Madison realized he was talking about her, but as if she weren’t really here.

  “I can understand your fascination with her. Just remember your duty. And that bloodlines tell a much bigger story,” the older man continued.

  Then Armand turned abruptly away and walked back down the gallery to disappear out the doorway. Madison shivered. As her instincts continued to ping and prod, she knew one thing for certain: she hoped she never ran into that man again.

  “Family is something, huh?” Blake said.

  “A little strange.” That was the nicest way Madison knew how to put it. But she couldn’t just go around insulting his father.

  “Oh, he’s an odd bird all right.”

  But she couldn’t shake the feeling that Blake had been trying to protect her somehow. Especially when he’d put his hand against the small of her back. It could’ve just been a polite gesture, but the firm pressure of the contact seemed to have a different meaning. He wasn’t trying to direct her somewhere. Instead, it was almost as if he were trying to reassure himself that she were okay.

  It echoed her own uneasy intuition around his father. A high adrenaline rush, as if she’d had a face-to-face with one of the abusers Maison’s tenants sought shelter from.

  “Abigail isn’t safe with him,” she said, murmuring almost as if to herself.

  Blake jerked to a halt, turning to her and stepping close. “What did you say?”

  She looked up into his eyes and wondered if he would accept the truth. A lot of people who had abusers in their lives didn’t. But she didn’t do what she did every day to make friends. “Blake, I know he’s your father, but there’s something not right about him.”

  “You’re not telling me anything I didn’t already know.”

  Relief slipped through her. “So you know Abigail isn’t safe there. Especially without her mother.”

  She felt his hand go tense on her back, the fingers digging in on either side of her spine. Not in a painful way, but almost as if he were having a reaction he couldn’t control. “I’m working on that.”

  As she stared up at him, and realized he was a thirtysomething playboy with no experience of children trying to do what he could to help his seven-year-old half sister, pride swelled within her. He didn’t have to help. He wasn’t Abigail’s primary caregiver. She had parents. He could’ve just walked away and ignored it.

  “I’m proud of you,” she said.

  The breath seemed to almost whoosh from his body. He swallowed hard, and his eyes darkened with emotion. The frown that appeared was sad in and of itself. How few people had said thank-you to him that it would upset him?

  “I’m just trying to do my best,” he said.

  Just then they were interrupted by the waiter asking if they wanted a drink.

  Madison kept her gaze on Blake, letting a small smile play at her lips. Her protector. She couldn’t be in better hands, could she?

  Eleven

  Blake eased back into Madison’s bed, pulling her close up against his chest when she shifted in her sleep. Dawn was just lightening the sky behind the window shades, but he’d been up for hours.

  He’d done his best to do a thorough search of the house. Every step felt like a betrayal, after Madison had asked him to stay the night following their trip to the museum.

  He felt like his entire conversation with Madison after his father left had been a big huge lie. He was worried about Abigail; he was trying to find a way to help her, but he couldn’t come right out and tell Madison that after his father had been sending him a warning earlier.

  Don’t get too close to Madison. Because I will take her out one way or another. All over what her mother did to me. Or maybe his father was just being like this to prove that Blake could not control him in any way. Madison would never be safe. So he’d done the very thing he didn’t want to do, and searched her house during the night.

  Of course, he hadn’t found anything. No secret cubbies, no safes. Nothing that would indicate a multimillion-dollar diamond was hiding somewhere on the premises. He’d searched every room, looked into every crevice. All the while his heart pounding, afraid Madison would walk in and he’d have to explain himself.

  He was already sick at the thought that someday soon she’d know why he was here. Or rather she would assume she knew the real reason, though it had changed for him. Because if the last couple of hours had taught him something, it was that he didn’t want to hurt Madison. He loved her. And that knowledge had sent him straight back to her arms. He didn’t know what else to do, just like he didn’t know what else to do with Abigail.

  He’d searched his mind for ways out of the situation. Hell, he’d even made a phone call in the middle of the night to Abigail’s mother. To no avail, because the woman wasn’t answering...just like she hadn’t any time in the last week as he’d tried to contact her. She probably figured he would deride her for walking out on her child. But he just needed a solution.

  One that didn’t involve the Belarus diamond. Because time was running out. And Blake had no more leads.

  So instead he buried his head in the sand. Or rather, in Madison’s fragrant hair. He breathed her in, and even though his body stirred, he was content to lie there with her in his arms. Right now he had no way to delay the inevitable, but by God he’d find a way to leave her with something good.

  By the time the sun had fully risen, and Madison began to stir in his arms, he knew exactly what he wanted to do with his day. He gave her a chance to wake up, and felt his whole body react when she blinked at him with sleepy eyes.

  “Good morning,” she murmured.

  “Yes. Yes it is,” he replied. And he planned to make the most of it. “Want me to make you some coffee?”

  She nodded, and he slid from the bed. The glance over his shoulder as he walked to the door revealed a warm, sleepy woman stretching beneath a light sheet. He almost turned back, so that he could explore the soft curves and erect nipples beneath the thin covering.
But he knew then he might never get back out. So Blake headed down the stairs with a chuckle.

  He waited until she had a whole cup of the chicory brew in her before he broached the subject. “So what are the plans for today?” he asked.

  “Oh, I don’t have to be over at the charity today. I figured I’d putter around with the furniture.”

  “I have something a little different in mind.”

  She lifted a brow as she stared at him over the rim of her newly refreshed cup. She took a sip before asking, “And what would that be?”

  “What exactly do you want to do with that hospital bed?”

  He knew the question was unexpected but didn’t realize how much until she set her mug down on the counter with a hard thunk. Coffee sloshed over the side and unto the marble tile countertop. Her voice was huskier than usual when she asked, “Why do you ask?”

  Blake knew he had to tread very carefully here. “I’m just wondering. Has it not been moved because you need it for some reason? Or because you need help with it?”

  She turned her gaze over his shoulder to stare out the kitchen window. The way her lips tightened for a moment he thought she wouldn’t answer, but then she said, “I certainly have no need for it anymore. I know what I want to do with it, but I just...”

  Her voice trailed off in a way that made him sad for her. He knew she didn’t want to admit that she wasn’t capable of something, but they both knew the truth.

  It was right there in her sad smile when she returned her gaze to meet his. “So I just cleaned it up as best I could, and I’ll get around to it when I get around to it,” she said with a shrug.

  “Well, how about we get around to it today? What is it you want to do?”

  She quickly let her lashes fall, covering the expression in her eyes. “I don’t understand. Why would you want to do this today? Or at all? We could do anything. Take your sister to the park today. I could bake. Any number of things that wouldn’t be—”

  “Hard?”

  She glanced back up at him, her teeth worrying her lower lip.