One Night with Sole Regret 07 Tease Me (11 page)

“Madison?”

She opened her eyes at the sound of her name on a stranger’s lips. She was none too happy to discover who in New Orleans knew her by name. She frowned. The guy who’d followed her through the airport was not on her list of people she wanted to hang out with.

“Hello, Chris,” she said, her upbringing forcing her to be friendly to the guy. Dammit. “Are you enjoying the city?”

“Very much,” he said. “Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to go out tonight.”

“I already have plans with my boyfriend,” she said.

Chris eyed the empty chair next to her skeptically. “Not sure what you see in him,” he said and laughed.

“He’s inside ordering.”

“Whatever you say, sugar lips,” Chris said. He saluted her with one finger and quickly disappeared into the crowd.

Madison shook off the feeling of uneasiness brought on by seeing the guy again. What were the chances? She supposed the odds weren’t astronomical. They were both tourists in a very touristy part of the city, but she had to admit that running into him set her on edge. He didn’t seem dangerous or particularly creepy, just interested. A bit too interested. Or maybe she was flattering herself. Chris hadn’t tried to push himself on her much at all this time.

“Beignet for your thoughts,” Adam said.

She straightened in her chair and smiled up at him, ridiculously glad to see him. He set a basket with three square pastries before her. The donut-sized treats were completely covered with powdered sugar.

“Oh,” she said, “those look good!” She inhaled deeply, and her mouth watered. “And they smell even better.”

Her stomach growled in agreement. And upon the first bite, her taste buds concurred. The beignet was similar to a donut, only chewier. And a bit messier. She soon had powdered sugar everywhere. Adam sat across from her and sipped his coffee.

“Something wrong?” he asked. “You were frowning when I walked up.”

She shook her head. “Just thinking.” She grinned at him. “I can actually do that when you’re out of sight.”

“Well, if thinking makes you frown, I guess I better stick around fulltime.”

“You’ll hear no complaints out of me,” she said.

“You thinking about your job?” He pinched a corner off one of her beignets and popped it into his mouth.

“Yeah,” she said. “Just wondering why Joanna waited until now to fire me. You haven’t been to the office for a few months. How long did she know about us?”

Adam shrugged. “It is strange. I wish you’d allow me to have a little chat with her.”

“I think I’ll try talking to her again,” Madison said. “I was so stunned when she fired me, I didn’t plead my case very well. Now that I’ve had a little time to digest the situation, I might be able to get my job back.”

Adam reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “If that’s what you want. If you change your mind about needing me, just say the word and I’m there.”

She turned her hand over and laced her fingers through his. “I do need you,” she said. “I just think this situation requires a little finesse.”

He licked the sugar off the fingertips of his free hand. “You don’t think I’m capable of finesse?”

Uh, no. She knew he wouldn’t be able to maintain his composure if her boss talked to him the way she had talked to Madison. “She basically called me a slut and said I should have kept my legs closed.”

Adam slammed a fist on the table, sloshing coffee from their cups. “That fucking bitch. She better not talk to you like that in front of me unless she wants a fist in her mouth.”

She smiled, knowing he was mostly talk, but also knowing his attitude wouldn’t help her cause. “Exactly the finesse I was talking about, sweetie.”

She took a sip of her coffee, surprised by the rich, somewhat spicy flavor of the brew. “This is really good,” she said, taking another sip.

“It’s the chicory.”

“No idea what chicory is, but I approve.”

The beignets were fantastic as well and now that Adam was near, her thoughts turned away from her problems and focused once again on him. Maybe it wasn’t practical to center her world around him, but she much preferred it to sulking about her reality. Even though her eyes were on the fascinating people strolling by and her ears were treated to the practiced horn of the nearby musician, she was aware of Adam on a level she’d never experienced with another person. It was similar to how she knew her twin sister was near, but the awareness tugged at her from a different place. Only part of the reaction was sexual; she didn’t have a name for the rest of it.

“Madison?”

She turned her head to meet his gaze, and was instantly drowning in his smoky gray eyes.

“You have a little something . . .” He leaned across the table and kissed her, his tongue trailing lightly over her lips.

Completely under his spell, she leaned forward, groaning in protest when he drew away.

“Sugar lips,” he said with a grin that showed off the deep dimple near one corner of his sensual mouth. “Even sweeter than usual.”

Sugar lips
. That guy, Chris, had called her that earlier. She’d completely forgotten about his unexpected reappearance. Should she mention him to Adam? No. There wasn’t really anything to tell. It wasn’t like the guy had harassed her. And seeing him had just been a coincidence. Half the tourists in New Orleans were probably in the French Quarter at any given moment.

Having already devoured her first beignet, she picked up another and rubbed powdered sugar all over her mouth. “Oh,” she said, “I seem to have a little something . . .”

Adam chuckled and leaned in for another kiss. She melted beneath his attention, kissing him back with as much passion as he showed her. Beneath her skirt, his hand moved to the bare skin of her knee. She was already so fired up that the simple touch of his fingertips against her skin sent waves of tingling pleasure up her thigh to pulse deep within her pussy.

“Is it time to go to that club yet?” she asked breathlessly when he tugged his lips from hers.

“Not yet.”

Damn.

“So any luck with your writer’s block?” Madison asked, hoping to distract herself from the very definition of distraction seated across from her.

“It will come,” he said, picking at the corner off her spare beignet and popping a piece into his mouth. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was intentionally avoiding her eyes. “Today I just want to focus on you.”

“I’m okay with that.”

After brunch he took her hand and they headed across the street. Artists and fortune-tellers were set up along the sidewalk outside Jackson Park, which Adam said was named after Andrew Jackson. The park featured a statue of Jackson, the hero of the Battle of New Orleans, at its center.

They stopped short when a tall and lanky man, who reminded Madison of a clean-shaven Abraham Lincoln, stepped into their path. He touched Madison’s shoulder and examined her face.

“What the hell?” Adam said, shoving the guy’s hand away from her.

“I have to draw you,” the guy said.

“You don’t have to draw shit,” Adam grumbled.

While Madison was fascinated by the motley bunch of street vendors, Adam seemed annoyed by them. But then this wasn’t his first time in New Orleans, so every nuance wasn’t necessarily a grand adventure for him. Madison examined the artist’s caricatures and giggled at his interpretation of Morgan Freeman’s freckles and Nicole Kidman’s forehead.

“I want him to draw me,” Madison said and promptly sat on the stool next to the artist’s easel.

“He’s a caricaturist,” Adam said, as if the vocation was synonymous with roadkill.

“I know.”

The artist took a seat and began to sketch.

“If you want someone to draw you, I’ll do it,” Adam said.

And she’d love to see what he came up with. “Get to work then,” she said. “We’ll see who does a better job.”

Adam turned to the street artist. “How much for a blank sheet of paper and a charcoal pencil?”

“Uh . . . twenty bucks?”

Adam’s glare indicated he knew he was being robbed, but he paid the man, collected his supplies, including a clipboard, and sat on the sidewalk near a wall. He didn’t even look at Madison as he worked, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Nor was she interested in Mr. Lincoln’s small talk. The caricaturist refused to give Madison a peek at his finished work while they waited for Adam to complete his drawing. Madison fanned herself with her hands. Even in the shade, she was growing uncomfortably warm. Adam must be dying in his jeans if she was this hot in a skirt. She was admiring Adam in those jeans when he looked up at her unexpectedly. He added a small touch to his drawing and held it at arm’s length to examine it. After a few more scratches with his pencil, he climbed to his feet.

“I couldn’t remember which side your beauty mark was on.” Adam kissed the small mole under her left eye. “I can’t believe I forgot.”

He’d just drawn her from memory and felt bad about forgetting such a small detail? She wasn’t sure if she wanted to see what he’d drawn. She decided no matter how bad it was, she’d fawn over it.

“You first,” Adam said to Mr. Lincoln.

The artist turned his easel around. The man’s talent was obvious, though the large gap between Madison’s front teeth, her overly long neck, the alien-sized eyes and the bushy mess of hair more expansive than the state of Texas made her a bit self-conscious.

“Doesn’t even look like her,” Adam said.

“It isn’t supposed to,” Madison reminded him. “Well, not exactly.”

“Let’s see yours,” Mr. Lincoln said.

Adam turned the clipboard around, and Madison’s mouth dropped open in shock. Shock from the unquestionable skill it had taken to create such a perfect likeness of her. Further shock from the fact that she was entirely naked. Her face went hot as she took in the sight of her fingers buried in the expertly drawn folds between her legs, her breasts pushed together into cleavage with nipples hard and straining. Her facial expression could only be described as her O-face.

“Adam!” she managed to squeak before grabbing the clipboard and hiding the drawing from passersby by holding it against her chest.

“You win,” Mr. Lincoln said. “How much do you want for it?”

Madison’s face went even hotter.

“It’s not for sale,” Adam said.

Madison wandered away from the passing pedestrians and took another peek at Adam’s work. He was so talented, tears filled her eyes. Sure, she looked like a porn star and yes, she had to wonder if this was how he saw her every time he looked at her—if so, no wonder he was always horny—but every detail of her body had been captured to perfection. From memory. Not only was she astonished that he knew her body that well, but she was hopelessly flattered.

“Are you ashamed of me for drawing it?” Adam asked, his voice uncharacteristically gruff. He peered over her shoulder at the page.

“
Ashamed
?” she said. “Of course I’m not ashamed of you. It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I just don’t want strangers to see me like that.”

“So it would bother you if other people saw you naked and coming, even though it’s the most beautiful sight in the world?”

“Of course it would bother me.”

“Well, hell. We should probably head back to the hotel for some more teasing then,” he said and took her hand.

“What?”

“Or maybe it’s best to do it here.” He meandered down the street, holding her hand to keep her in step with him.

“Do
what
here?”

“Oh, nothing,” he said. “Do you want me to carry that for you?”

He extended a hand toward the clipboard she held. Her eyes widened when she realized anyone could have gotten an eyeful while she was trying to figure out why
more
teasing was in order. Pausing under a moss-draped tree, she released the page from the clipboard and flipped it over so that the blank backside was facing outward. That was better. Now she could prevent it from being wrinkled
and
from being seen.

“Fortunes told, palms read,” a deeply tanned and wrinkled woman called from a nearby table that was covered with a gold-fringed purple satin tablecloth, a crystal ball sitting in its center.

“Is that something you’re interested in?” Adam asked, nodding toward the fortune-teller.

Madison didn’t believe in fortune-telling and the occult, but it might be fun to play along. “I’ll get my fortune told if you get your palm read.”

“No thanks,” he said.

She grabbed him by the T-shirt and tugged him toward the table. “He’d like his palm read,” Madison said.

Adam shook his head in annoyance but extended his hand toward the mystic.

“Very interesting,” the woman said, pouring over Adam’s palm. “You have multiple talents, I see.”

Which was probably given away by the calluses on his fingertips earned from playing guitar and the smudges of charcoal on the side of his hand, Madison decided.

“The road behind you was much rockier than the one ahead.”