An Offer He Can't Refuse (14 page)

Judging by the way her body tensed, she was struggling to remain composed. He didn’t like the wrenching ache in his gut, the idea of hurting her, or the harshness in his voice when he spoke, but his independence was hanging by a thread, and he wasn’t going to give it up. Not for anybody. “I like my freedom, Madison. And my privacy. We’re married now—just like you wanted. It’s done. I would appreciate it if we could keep a reasonable distance between us. If I remember correctly, that was the plan.”

She was doing that thing with her mouth again, her teeth sinking into her full bottom lip. It wasn’t going to work. Not this time. He refused to let her make him feel like the bad guy. If only she’d curse at him, call him names, anything to make this easier. But for the first time since he’d met her, she didn’t say a word.

“As you can see,” he added, “this is a big house. Make yourself at home while you’re here. I left keys to the house on the table by the door. If you have any problems, or you need anything at all, Chris is around most mornings and two or three evenings as well.”

“Is that all?” she asked after a quiet moment passed, her voice steady.

He nodded, hating the way she was looking at him, as if she were trying not to care. But she cared, all right. It wasn’t his ego telling him that. It was all her. The way she looked at him. The way she stood. She cared about everything—about the judge standing in the heat yesterday, about those kids who showed up in time to interrupt the wedding, and now she cared about him, too. He didn’t want her to care about him. But she did. He saw it in her eyes this morning and he’d seen it yesterday and the day before that. He’d bet his last dollar that she couldn’t help it—didn’t purposely set out to worry about everybody she met. She just did.

“Go on to Jamie’s tonight without me,” she said, breaking the silence between them. “I spoke with Jen and she offered to pick me up and take me to get my car. I won’t need to borrow anything of yours after all. I left they keys to your Lexus in the kitchen.”

She was looking straight at him, chin raised, eyes defiant. “No need to worry about your privacy either,” she went on. “I made a mistake. I thought we could be friends, but I can see now that I was terribly mistaken.”

She started to walk away, but then turned about and said, “Oh, and one more thing. I can take care of myself, so don’t you go worrying yourself sick about that.” With that said, she turned and headed across the foyer and out the door. The door shut firmly behind her, leaving a feeling of finality in her wake.

Jackson sat up a little taller and smiled.

He’d never met anyone like her. If he didn’t always think before reacting, he might have gone after her, taken her in his arms, and kissed her soundly, so soundly she’d know everything he’d just told her contradicted every sensation he was feeling inside.

Chapter Nine

It was nine p.m. The night had gone from balmy to cool by the time Madison pulled into Jackson’s driveway and parked her 1966 VW. The engine rattled and sputtered even after she turned off the ignition.

Jackson’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Only a few lights were on inside the house. Good. The last thing she wanted to do was run into him. She was exhausted after a long day counseling kids at CFC before running home to gather more of her things.

Grabbing her bags from the back seat, she climbed out of the car and headed toward the house. She knew Jackson wouldn’t notice or care if she ever returned, but after seeing some of the kids tonight, she knew she was doing the right thing.

Although she would have loved to cozy up on her recliner in her own house and sleep in her own bed, Mr. Razzano had said he might pay her and Jackson a visit. She couldn’t blow the deal after all she’d gone through.

Now she’d have to deal with the consequences. At least she didn’t have to worry about Jackson making a move on her. He didn’t want anything to do with her. He’d made it perfectly clear he wanted her to stay as far away from him as possible. Fine.

No problemo.

Once inside, she set her purse and bags by the staircase and then decided to grab a quick snack from the kitchen. She’d hardly eaten all day and her stomach grumbled. The idea of eating food she hadn’t paid for didn’t sit well with her, but she was hungry and she wasn’t going to starve just because she happened to be married to an ogre. She would just have to remember to replace anything she ate. She opened the refrigerator and shuffled things around.

“Anything good in there?”

Madison jumped. The plastic jar of mayonnaise she’d latched onto fell to the floor and then bounced all over the place before it finally cracked open. White globs splattered against the dark cherry cupboards. “Shit.”

Jackson ducked for cover behind one of the stools, but even after the jar stopped bouncing around, he didn’t look the least bit convinced that he was out of danger. She might have cried if he hadn’t picked that moment to wave a kitchen towel in surrender.

Instead she smiled when Jackson stood, revealing a big, jiggling blotch of mayonnaise on his pants.

“So,” Jackson said, stepping around the mess. “You find this amusing?”

A big blob of mayonnaise dripped off the side of her head.

“Very,” she said.

His gaze focused on the right side of her head. She raised a hand, wrinkling her nose when the greasy slime oozed through her fingers.

Jackson found a towel and used it to wipe mayonnaise from her hair.

“I can do that,” she said, reaching for the towel in his hand.

“Hold still. I’ve got it.”

As he wiped each strand of hair, she noticed he wore jeans and a navy long-sleeved polo. She caught a whiff of cologne. She could feel his warm breath on the top of her head.

“There,” he said with one last swipe.

She took a step back. “Thanks.” She found another clean towel in a top drawer and gestured toward his sleeve. “You missed a spot.”

He took the towel and wiped at his sleeve. “How did your day go?”

Her eyes narrowed with distrust. “Not too good. Erin’s mother checked into rehab for the third time today, which means Erin must take on the role of mother to her two younger siblings. Bobby was caught smoking pot and he was put in juvenile hall and something’s going on with Adam, but he won’t talk.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yes, it is.”

Before she realized where his thoughts were headed, he cradled her face in his palms and brought his lips to hers.

She closed her eyes, despising herself for craving the feel of having his mouth against hers…possessive, warm. His tongue grazed hers, briefly, sending tingles coursing through her body. He tasted like wintergreen. Her heart pounded against her chest, her toes curled, and every part of her tingled. But then a sigh escaped her lips and unclouded her senses. This was a pity kiss, a kiss laden with guilt for all the things he’d said this morning.

The realization hit her with a jolt.

She pushed away from him. Kissing Jackson was one big lie, because he wasn’t kissing her for the same reason she was kissing him.

“You didn’t need to do that,” she said.

“Oh, yes I did.”

He took one step forward every time she took one step back.

“I don’t need your charity kisses,” she told him. “You made it perfectly clear this morning that you didn’t want me around. I may have been desperate to find a husband, but my heart,” she said, laying a palm on her chest, “is not desperate.”

He raised a brow.

“I’m not the kiss-starved woman you think I am.”

“The thought never crossed my mind.”

“Good.” She straightened her shoulders, went to the sink, so flustered she couldn’t remember which drawer held the clean towels. She would have headed for her room long ago if mayonnaise wasn’t covering half the kitchen. She found a cloth and went to the sink to rinse it with cold water. Suddenly, his hands were resting on her shoulders. She didn’t dare move. She stared out the window and focused on the stars, waiting to hear what he had to say. She wanted to fall back in his embrace, ask him to hold her in his arms all night long. But she wouldn’t do that. She’d grown tired of asking, wanting, begging to be loved. She deserved better.

“I’ll clean this up,” he said in a voice that would be easy to mistake for concern. “Why don’t you get some rest?”

She nodded, but didn’t dare look back as she made her way to her room. She couldn't be around him. Not right now. He was dangerous—in an explosive, sexy, confusing sort of way. Definitely hazardous to her health. One minute he was telling her to stay far away from him and in the next he was kissing her, filling her with false hope.

She shut the door to the guestroom and allowed herself to just breathe. “I don’t need him,” she said to her reflection in the full-length mirror. She had Jen. And she had her cat, Elvis. Well, she’d had Elvis until he’d decided to run away a few weeks ago.

She couldn’t get a man, let alone a tomcat, to stick around long enough to see how wonderful she could truly be. She was fun, and gosh darn it, she’d been voted most likable in fourth grade.

With a sigh, she removed a tissue from the box on the nightstand, then plunked down on the edge of the bed. She blew her nose. She wasn’t going to feel sorry for herself. Been there, done that.

She remembered the bags she’d brought from home. They were downstairs where they would have to remain. She wasn’t going to risk running into Jackson again. She fell back onto the pillows, determined not to shed another tear. She could handle Jackson’s moody ways, she realized.
But she sure couldn’t handle those kisses
.

~~~

It was close to midnight as Jackson drove through the heavily sculpted iron gates and parked his car behind Madison’s VW.

Two days had passed since the mayonnaise incident. He hadn’t seen Madison since. She was obviously avoiding him. He hardly blamed her after the way he’d treated her.

The car she drove, he noticed, had seen better days. The thought of his wife driving a beat-up car didn’t sit well with him. He’d seen too many small cars mangled in accidents. Madison needed something sturdy and solid, something safe. He made a mental note to talk to her about it.

The moonlight threw shadows over the grass as he walked across the driveway, reminding him that the place looked more like a country club than a home. A dozen royal palms stood straight and tall around the perimeter.

He’d worked late. The paperwork kept piling up at the office, but he figured staying late each night would make things easier for both of them. Although staying away hadn’t helped him keep his mind off of her; she was his wife now and he couldn’t seem to get his thoughts wrapped around anything else. Hell, he couldn’t look at her without wanting her, and the other night had only made things worse. He hadn’t meant to lead her on, hadn’t meant to kiss her at all. It just happened. And it was a damn good thing she stopped him when she did.

One minute he was telling her to stay away and the next he was wrapping her in his arms and kissing her. The fact that he couldn’t keep away from her, boggled the mind. He was a mess.

He wasn’t keen on the idea that any woman, especially a quiet, timid woman such as his wife, could so easily get under his skin. But she had, and she was making him crazy. With his jacket thrown over his shoulder, hooked precariously on one finger, he made his way quietly through the front entrance and headed upstairs toward his bedroom, slowing his pace as he passed Madison’s room. Next thing he knew, he was leaning close to her door and listening—like a damn idiot, wondering if she was even home.

What if an intruder had come in and hurt her?

He tunneled his fingers through his hair. She was probably asleep.

And yet he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he knew for sure that she was safe and sound.

The damn woman had turned him into a nosy Peeping Tom.

And yet what choice did he have but to take a look?

“She isn’t your concern,” his sensible self said. Deciding to listen to his sensible self, he shrugged and started off for his room again.

“She’s your wife—your responsibility,” his other self said into his ear.

He stopped and looked back at her door, hoping she would peek her head out and say goodnight. Her car was in the driveway, which told him she had to be home. He should have been able to hear her breathing, though…something.

A noise at the front door caught his attention. He looked over the railing to the foyer. There she was—sneaking in after a late night—as if she were a damnable teenager. He watched her shut the front door, oh, so quietly. She locked the door and then tiptoed up the stairs.

“What are you doing?” he asked her.

Her head snapped up, eyes wide and guilty as hell. He figured it was a good thing she wasn’t carrying a bag or a crystal vase because she would have thrown it and they would have spent the next hour cleaning up the mess.

She was wearing her thick-rimmed glasses again. He hadn’t seen her wear glasses since their meeting in the coffee shop. She pulled her glasses off and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

By the time she reached the landing, her surprise had turned to annoyance. “What do you mean, what am I doing? How about ‘hello, how are you?’ or ‘How was your day?’”

He went to stand before the door to her bedroom. “I didn’t think of that,” he said, noting how exhausted she looked, as if she’d worked all day and then ran a marathon after that. “Why are you home so late?”

She eyed him skeptically. “Do I have a curfew?”

“Of course not. It’s past midnight, though, and I happen to think that’s a little late for my wife to be traipsing in the front door.”

He wasn’t sure who was more surprised by the comment—her or him.

“I’m not your wife, remember?”

“Technically you are. People I know might see you frequenting those bars you’re so fond of. I don’t like it.”

She screwed her face up. “Frequenting bars? Oh, I see.” She slid past him, pushing her door wide as she swept into her bedroom to deposit her purse and a few other items onto the bed. Flipping on the lights, she turned back to him. “You think because we met in a bar that that’s where I spend my free time?”