An Offer He Can't Refuse (7 page)

Jackson turned to his brother. “We better keep an eye on Bingham. Archer’s going to try to get his clutches on the old man first chance he gets.”

“How can you even worry about Archer when you’ve got a beautiful woman waiting to dance? Why didn’t you tell me she was knock-dead gorgeous?”

“Looks can be deceiving. She’s here for the same reason Archer is…money.”

“I do believe that’s why we’re all here,” Jamie replied. “Regardless, that rock around her neck must be worth enough to support all of us for the next twenty years. She doesn’t look hard-up for cash to me.”

“I would have to agree,” Jackson said. “According to Heather, she spends money faster than the Federal Reserve can issue it.”

“Ah, well, if Heather says so, it must be true.”

Jackson angled a brow at his brother.

“Are you going to dance with the insatiable monster, or not?” Jamie asked.

“You go ahead. There are some people I need to talk to.”

~~~

Madison watched Jackson cast her a fleeting nod before he walked off in the other direction, his complete lack of manners leaving her baffled. Was he annoyed with her for being late? The man had some nerve inviting her here and then pretending she didn’t exist.

Jamie approached her and offered his hand. “Sorry about all the confusion when you first arrived. Jamie Lang’s the name.”

She took his offered hand. Was he the same “Jamie” she’d spoken to on the phone when she’d called Jackson’s office? Did L & L stand for Lang and Lang? If so, that would mean Jackson Lang was rich…which meant he couldn’t possibly need the money she had offered him.

“Sorry if I was presumptuous earlier,” Jamie added after she failed to say anything. “I don’t usually take such liberties with women I hardly know.”

“Now why do I find that hard to believe?” She smiled. “You are the same Jamie I spoke to on the phone the other day, aren’t you?”

He raised his hands to the air. “Guilty as charged. I promise, though, I spoke nothing but the truth.”

“Let’s see,” Madison put a gloved finger to her chin. “You did mention the words pigheaded and stubborn, which somehow leads me to believe that you were indeed telling the truth, Mr. Lang.”

The corners of his mouth curved upward.

A charming man, she thought. He had the same rich brown eyes as Jackson’s. But Jamie’s face was lit up with delight, while Jackson’s expression seemed to relay an underlying irritation with the world…or maybe just with her. It was hard to tell.

~~~

It was going to be a long night, Jackson figured, since he was beginning to see that Heather was right about Madison. He couldn’t get over the innocent act she’d played out in her kitchen the other day. Telling him she didn’t own a dress, and then appearing tonight wearing all but the crown jewels.

But what did it matter?

If Peter Bingham believed he was about to become a responsible family man, L & L Developing would get the contract they deserved and everybody would win. More importantly, if Jackson went through with this farce, he would be fulfilling his obligation to Walter.

An hour later, after mingling and hobnobbing until his jaw ached from smiling, Jackson made his way through the crowd. He was in a surly mood, and he didn’t want to be here. He wanted to find Madison and find an excuse to leave early.

“Hey, Jackson, there you are.” His friend Collin waved him over from the bar.

Jackson maneuvered his way around silk gowns and tuxedos to get to his friend. He pulled out a stool and took a seat.

“I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for days,” Collin said. “Whatever happened with those crazy women we met?”

Jackson ordered a drink. “I’m not sure you want to know.” He’d hoped to avoid Collin tonight, but he should’ve known better. As owner of Access Computers, Collin was one of the most sought-after bachelors in Los Angeles. There wasn’t a function one hundred miles outside of Los Angeles that he wasn’t invited to. What not many people knew was that he would forever remain a bachelor. Collin had fallen in love at a young age, and he’d fallen hard. Unbeknownst to family and friends, he and Debra had eloped. Before they could share their news with the world, it was discovered that she had leukemia. Three months later, she died at her home surrounded by family. Something inside of Collin had died along with her.

“I’ve been curious to find out how you got away from those ladies we met at the bar?”

Jackson thought about how much, if anything, he wanted to tell his friend.

“I hated leaving you there,” Collin added, “but hey, those women were dangerous. I mean, come on—offering to pay a stranger to be your husband?”

Dangerous wasn’t the first word that came to mind, but it was a good start.

“You’re scarin’ me, buddy. Tell me you didn’t agree to marry her.”

“I had to.”

“You what?”

Jackson glanced toward the dance floor where couples swirled about, everyone enjoying themselves. “We’re getting married within the month, for reasons I’d rather not discuss at the moment. Just keep it quiet, will you?”

“Oh, man.” Collin waved the bartender over and ordered another round of drinks.

Hundreds of people filled the ballroom, yet every time Jackson scanned the room, he easily spotted Madison in the crowd. Thirty minutes ago he saw her sipping champagne with Mr. and Mrs. Bingham. Fifteen minutes after that, she was laughing it up with a new acquaintance. Now she was talking to a group of ladies and their husbands. At first glance he thought she was alone, but his jaw hardened when he saw Bryce Archer appear and whisper something into her ear. She answered with one of her charming smiles and then hooked her arm around Archer’s and allowed him to escort her onto the dance floor.

Where was his brother? Jamie was supposed to keep an eye on her. What was Jamie thinking, letting Archer get his clutches on his fiancée? The fact that Archer was his biggest contender for the Bingham deal was only half the problem. The worst of it was that the guy was a certified lecher; every move Archer made was calculated, aimed at manipulation and deceit.

Collin’s gaze followed Jackson’s to the dance floor. “Whoa! That’s some dish Bryce found himself, isn’t it?”

“That’s not a dish, Collin, that’s Madison Brown. My fiancée.”

Collin’s face lost all color. “That can’t be the same woman. Tell me it’s not too late to change my mind.”

“You had your chance.” Jackson stood. “I better save her. She looks as nervous as a cornered deer.”

“I don’t know how much hunting you’ve done lately. She looks perfectly happy to me.”

Jackson released some hot air through his teeth.

“I wouldn’t go out there,” Collin warned. “You’re already on Archer’s hit list for dumping his sister and stealing his biggest client. Why don’t you let me handle this?”

“I haven’t seen Archer’s sister in years,” Jackson argued. “She’s probably married with two kids by now. I hardly think he’d remember any of that. Besides, if you save her from Archer, I’d have to save her from you.”

Collin grinned. “Good point.”

Blaming Madison for his sour mood, Jackson drained his glass, and then crossed the room in long, ground-covering strides. He stopped at the edge of the dance floor and waited impatiently for the dance to end. When the music concluded and the applause faded, he weaved his way through the people on the dance floor.

Madison stood in the center. After thanking Archer for the dance, she turned away, but the man wasn’t ready to let her go. Archer took hold of her waist and whirled her back into his arms just as the orchestra started up again. His hands lingered on the small of her back.

Jackson continued to make a path through entwined couples, nodding at Irene and Peter as he passed by. Jackson tapped Archer on the shoulder. “I believe my fiancée was saving this dance for me.”

“Apparently not,” Bryce countered, holding Madison much too tight against his chest.

People danced around Jackson, giving him unpleasant looks for getting in their way. One man politely asked him to take a seat and wait his turn.

Jackson turned away to let them finish the dance when he heard Madison say, “Please let me go.”

She was trying to pull away, but Archer’s hands were all over her. The man refused to let her go. Jackson had no desire to cause a scene. Not here. Not tonight. But Archer reeked of whiskey and the wobble in his step told him the man was drunk.

Jackson raked a hand through his hair as he approached Archer again.

“Wait your turn,” Archer said, his voice slurred.

“You’ve had too much to drink, Archer. And the lady is uncomfortable. Let her go.”

Red-faced, Archer pressed his hips up against Madison and rubbed against her before finally dropping his hands from her waist. “Jesus Christ. You’d think I was shagging the broad instead of dancing with her!”

That did it. Jackson grasped Archer by the collar and took three steps until he was holding Archer against one of many marble columns lining the ballroom. His other hand clenched into a fist and drew back.

“Don’t,” Madison pleaded. “He’s had too much to drink.”

Men and women gathered around to gawk. The band stopped playing.

Jackson loosened his hold enough so that Archer’s feet rested on the floor again. Teeth clenched, Jackson said in a low voice, “Touch her again and I won’t hesitate to knock a few teeth out of that big mouth of yours. Someone call the man a cab,” Jackson said over his shoulder.

“You’re not sending me home, you arrogant bastard.”

“You’ve had too much to drink, Archer. Go home.” Jackson released his hold on the man and turned toward Madison. The wide-eyed terror in her eyes as she looked past him caused Jackson to swivel about just in time to receive one of Archer’s fists in his eye.

Jackson staggered backwards.

Archer wasn’t finished. He charged for him, both arms swinging. Jackson ducked and this time Archer’s meaty fist hit Peter Bingham’s face instead, sending the old man straight to the ground.

Irene screamed.

Jackson bent down to help Peter from the ground.

“Jackson!” Madison shouted.

It was too late. Archer lunged, causing Jackson to stumble backwards through the crowd as he tried to find solid ground. People divided like the Red Sea until Jackson bumped into a refreshment table. Punchbowls toppled, drenching the floor with ice cubes and red punch. Before he could catch his balance, both feet landed on scattered ice, and Jackson found himself skating across the floor, straight into a large marble breast belonging to a very stone-faced statue of Venus de Milo.

~~~

Madison froze when a camera angled toward her. Bright lights flashed as photographers marked the event for the morning papers.

Jamie rushed in to help poor Mr. Bingham to his feet.

Fifteen minutes later, Madison found herself sitting in a private parlor, watching Peter Bingham slap Jackson on the back in a kind of congratulatory embrace. The two men sat across from her, laughing and carrying on like two war dogs who had been to the front and survived to talk about it.

Ridiculous
.

Irene Bingham entered the parlor with two damp towels. She handed one to Madison. Irene went to her husband and coddled him, holding the cloth to his bruised eye as she whispered soothing words into his ear.

Madison was not ready to forgive Jackson for inviting her to such a prominent event, only to ignore her for most of the night before suddenly deciding to sweep in and play the part of the hero rescuing the damsel in distress.

As if she needed a man to save her. It was a ridiculous notion. She could’ve easily handled Archer herself. It was enough to make her want to bruise Jackson’s other eye.

She glanced from the towel in her hand to Jackson, who happened to be looking her way. He lifted a brow, looking at her with irreproachable puppy-dog eyes, as if he were waiting for her to tend to his discolored face as any concerned fiancée would probably do.

She rolled her eyes, marched over to where he sat, and plopped the rag over his bruised eye, holding it in place with one finger. Of all the men in the world to ask to be her husband, she had to go and pick Jackson Lang—an impossible, insufferable beast if ever there was one.

Chapter Five

Early the next morning, Jackson slid into his car. As he adjusted the rear view mirror, he caught a glimpse of his sorry face. A few hours’ sleep hadn’t helped. His eye was framed by several shades of blue. Hell, his entire face looked a mess.

How the hell was he going to get through the next three months married to the woman if he couldn’t get through one night?

Knowing he had to tell Sheila about his upcoming marriage wasn’t helping his sour mood either. He and Sheila Sinclair had been seeing one another, on and off, for two years. They both had exceedingly busy schedules. Sheila was a defense attorney and she spent many weekends out of town. But when either of them was in the mood for companionship, and when their schedules allowed, they made time for each other. Sheila was intelligent and exquisite to look at, the sort of woman who caused men to take a long look as she passed by.

Jackson knew from the beginning that Sheila wasn’t the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He liked her. She liked him. No responsibilities, no obligations attached. Just the way he liked it. But he wasn’t insensitive, which is why he intended to tell Sheila about his engagement. The problem was she was away on business—half way across the world. He wasn’t about to give her the news over the phone. When she returned to the States, he would tell her everything in person.

As he backed out of the driveway, visions of big blue eyes belonging to a woman who was everything he stood against floated through his mind. But if Madison was truly the sort of woman he stayed away from, why couldn’t he stop thinking about her? Last night she’d surprised him—the last thing he’d expected was for the cute little duckling to turn into a swan.

Grasping the wheel, he accelerated onto Santa Monica Boulevard. He wondered if the real problem was that he didn’t want to feel responsible for Madison or anyone else. Once she became his wife, he was afraid he’d begin to feel accountable…even worse, duty-bound. It was as if he could already feel the old ball and chain snug about his ankle.