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She’d hoped, she’d prayed, but did Jack have what it took to be a good father to that baby? And there was Tara. She hadn’t shown an interest in Beau other than out of shock and suspicion yet she wanted children of her own. If she and Jack married—if they had children together—would Tara see Beau as a nuisance or inconvenience when her own brood came along? If that were the case, what sort of family would poor Beau grow up in? What sort of damaged self-image would being an add-on leave him with?
A whinny sounded in the night and Maddy was brought back.
“Herc can hear us,” Jack told her and jerked a thumb at the stables. “Want to meet him?”
Deep in thought, Maddy absently agreed but before long the scent of horse and leather pulled her up. With a sneeze tickling her nose, she made an excuse.
“It’s getting late. We probably shouldn’t disturb him.”
Jack laughed and kept walking. “Herc won’t mind the company.”
She pinched her nose. “I think I might be allergic.”
That got his attention and he angled back around. “Have you been around horses before?”
“A real one?”
He grinned—a breathtaking, cheeky smile—and Maddy’s breasts tingled with unbidden desire.
“You know, Maddy, there’s nothing quite like the rhythm of a strong dependable horse rocking beneath you.”
Rhythm … strong … rocking. Maddy blew out a breath. She wanted to fan herself. Did he have any clue how fiercely attractive he was?
“Thanks,” she announced, dabbing her brow, “but I’ll pass.”
That smile widened and she imagined the fire in his eyes had licked her lips.
“Why not broaden your horizons? There’s more to life than a wardrobe of pretty dresses.”
“Or a stable of horses.”
“You’re right.”
He sauntered over to stand, shoulder to shoulder, beside her as he checked out the trillion-star lightshow dancing over their heads. His innate energy—the physical pull she felt when he was this close—was as tangible as his body heat. She wished he hadn’t moved nearer. And, dammit, she wished he’d moved nearer still.
“There’s a cool breeze after a long muggy spell,” he said, “and the dependability of a vast rich land like this. There’s the satisfaction that comes with a hard day’s work, and the lure of a full moon on a still night just like tonight. And then …”
His dark brows nudged together as if an odd idea had struck. When he turned his head, his expression had softened with an emotion she hadn’t seen in him before. He blinked once then, as if he’d read all her earlier thoughts, he cupped her cheek and she stopped breathing.
“And then,” he said, “there’s this.”
The pad of his thumb raised her chin and as his head dropped over hers, Maddy’s faculties shut down. She might have wondered, might have dreamed, but having Jack Prescott’s undivided smoldering attention focused only upon her had seemed beyond reason or possibility.
And yet now.
Maddy trembled, leaned in and pressed up.
With his mouth closed so perfectly over hers and his hard muscular frame pressed in tight all the world seemed to spiral away. With her heart beating high and hard, she couldn’t think beyond the thrill of this moment, beyond the wonder of his fingertips working against her nape … the heavy throb low in her belly … and a fiery internal pulse that whispered to her about the promise of a slow, hot night spent in Jack Prescott’s bed.
His thumb ran down her throat as he sipped and tasted and explored. When his mouth reluctantly left hers and her heavy eyelids opened, his eyes were smiling into hers. A delicious full-body quiver ran through her blood. She was light-headed, dizzy. Had Jack truly just kissed her? Had she truly kissed him back? On one level she couldn’t digest the reality. The possibility that he would embrace her, gift her with the world’s steamiest kiss, didn’t compute. And yet as she stood now looking up into the shadowed perfection of his face, improbability faded into another understanding.
Her belly felt heavy with a need that acknowledged only deep physical desire. She wanted his mouth on hers again. With a longing she hadn’t known she was capable of, she wanted his lips on her neck, on her breasts.
He stole another light, lingering kiss from the side of her mouth before his lips skimmed her jaw. “See what I mean about that full moon?”
His hand slid down her spine to circle the sensitive dip low in her back and the urge to coil her fingers up through his hair and mold herself against him became overpowering. Every labored breath compounded the desire building in her blood. Every thought confirmed that this felt way too good to let go.
How a bit of common sense survived the fire ripping through her veins, Maddy couldn’t say. She didn’t want to listen to reason. She only wanted to know his kiss again and again. And yet the danger … the dishonesty of this situation was as apparent as the aching desire. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t ignore the harm this kind of scene could and would do.
Finding her strength and her breath, she angled her head away. “This isn’t right.”
With a knuckle, he coaxed her mouth back to his. “This is very right.”
When he drew her bottom lip into his mouth and the shaft behind his zipper flexed against her belly, her resolve slipped like hot wax spilling down a candle. The urge to give in was so sweet and so strong … but she couldn’t ignore what was most important.
She pushed against his sturdy chest. “Jack, what about Tara?”
They needed to keep this complicated time as uncomplicated as they could. Yes, she was physically drawn to Jack—she’d like to meet a woman who wouldn’t be. But a kiss would lead to more—to dark heady places she wasn’t prepared to go. She wanted some kind of future with Beau. The last thing she needed was an ill-planned night hanging over her head and a stepmother who would then have good reason for suspicion.
He’d been so intense, so driven, she half expected him to ignore the obvious question. But he surprised her. Comprehension dawned in his eyes. His head pulled slowly back and his gaze searched hers as if he were coming out of a daze. When the horse whinnied again, he took a step away and his previously insistent palm left her back. His hand found the V at his opened collar and his gaze speared through her, as though he were seeing someone else.
His deep voice rumbled through the shadows.
“You should go inside.”
A shiver chased up her spine. His face looked changed. almost vulnerable. Gingerly, she touched his strong hot arm but his intense expression didn’t change.
He said again, “You should go.”
Then he wove around her toward the stable.
Later, as she lay awake in bed staring at the ceiling, she heard the retreating beat of hooves. Still glowing from the feel of him, still buzzing from the high, she rolled over and lightly touched her lips.
She thought she’d been kissed before. Thought she knew what desire was … how it felt to be on fire.
She’d been wrong.
Five
The next morning, Jack drove into Hawksborough, a town that pretty much consisted of a main street lined with Leopard trees, a federation-style library, town hall and courthouse, and a series of fading shop fronts which led to the Shangri-la Motel.
Parked in front of Bruce’s Barber’s, a residence which co-let to Hawsborough’s only bank, Jack swung out of the driver’s side of his four-wheel drive and absorbed the town’s aura of timelessness. Sue had loved this place almost as much as she’d loved the station. If he ever came in, Sue would, too, to catch up with the locals then veg out in the town square, working her way through one of her tomes. Sue had been as laid back as supper on Sundays.
Sophisticated Madison Tyler, on the other hand, fit in more with canapés and cocktails at five. She would find Hawksborough’s sole set of traffic lights and single movie theater gauche. Possibly unsettling. Maddy cared about what happened to Dahlia’s baby—he respected her for that—but as soon as her job here was done she’d be gone, back to the city and “civilization”. Thirteen more days.
And nights.
As he removed his hat and crossed into the Shangri-la foyer, Jack knew he could fool himself and say he understood why he’d cast off proper conduct last night: he’d wanted to sample an intriguing wine, just a taste. He’d kissed Maddy. Had enjoyed the act immensely. Curiosity supposedly done and dusted. Trouble was, while all this rationalizing had been taking place, he’d forgotten about Tara. About the commitment he’d made to her. And that just wasn’t him.
That Maddy was so different from Sue, from Tara—from any woman he’d known—might be a reason for his behavior but it wasn’t an excuse. He felt off-center around her. Couldn’t seem to shake her from his thoughts. At four this morning he’d finally figured out what needed to be done and how he should do it.
Now he strode up to Mrs. Claudia, the friendly gray-haired receptionist he’d known all his life. She slid the Life crossword to one side of the mahogany desk and they exchanged pleasantries about her aging canary and the lack of rain. Then he dialed up to the room Tara took whenever she stayed in town.
When she picked up on the second ring, Jack braced his shoulders. “Tara, I need to see you.”
There was a moment’s pause before a sigh came down the line. “Jack, it’s you. Thank God. Come up.”
From her thready tone, something wasn’t right in her world. He could guess what. But as he set off for the vintage elevator, Jack knew he couldn’t let any bad news delay his own.
When Tara opened her door, her hair was as glossy as usual but her eyes didn’t hold their normal fire. She lifted a large envelope and gave a jaded smile.
“Hendrix’s X-rays. There’s a small cyst on his hock. In my opinion, and the vet’s, nothing to worry about.” She flung the envelope on the TV stand. “But the buyer wants a cut in price.”
“Three hundred G’s is a lot for a horse,” he said, hanging his hat on the hatstand.
“Not for a brilliant jumper.” Then her dark eyes softened and an inviting smile curved her lips. “But let’s not talk about that.”
She took his hand and led him toward the bed. Jack kept his eyes straight ahead but even a blind man couldn’t miss her attire: a short, pale pink silk wrap. From the outline, she was naked underneath.
She drew him toward the foot of the unmade bed. Positioning herself close, she wove her hands up his shirt front then, closing her eyes, she reached on tiptoe to rub her nose with his.
“It’s so good to see you.” Her fingers flexed in his shirt as she murmured, “Will I order up some breakfast?”
“I’ve eaten.”
She opened her eyes at his tone and angled her head. “I need to apologize for the way I acted yesterday. But, you have to understand, I was taken aback. The last thing I expected to see was a baby—” she lowered to sit on the rumpled sheet “—or another woman.” Twining her fingers with his, she urged him to sit beside her. “But I should’ve shown more control. You’re right. We need to speak about this in private.” She pivoted toward him, her wrap slipped but she didn’t cover her thigh. “How do you feel about raising Dahlia’s son?”
He set his jaw. “Committed.”
“There is one big positive.”
“You mean besides giving my nephew a home.”
“Of course that baby deserves a home.” Her touch filed over his thigh and settled on his leg. “And now there’s no reason why we shouldn’t start a family. I understand how you feel about losing your own. Jack, I can’t imagine how much that must hurt, even now. But being given this baby is like being given another chance. We could give that little boy a brother or two.” Her hand squeezed. “A real family, for us all.”
He pushed to his feet and her hand fell away. “We need to talk.”
“If you’re worried about inheritance—that I might be biased toward the children we have together—I’m more than fine with all the children having equal shares …”
“I can’t marry you.”
She recoiled as if bitten by a snake. Her slender throat worked up and down as moisture welled in her eyes. His gut twisted around a heavy knot of guilt. There’d been no easy way to say it. But the admission had sounded blunt even to his ears.
“You can’t marry.” She carefully unfolded to her feet. “We’ve discussed this. Gone through it.” She stepped closer and a note of desperation lifted her voice. “What about the land?”
“I don’t care about the land.”
He cursed under his breath and scrubbed his brow.
Of course he cared, but.
Decided, he met her gaze. “I can’t think about that now.”
“It’s that woman, isn’t it?” Her slim nostrils flared. “How long have you known her?”
He told her the truth. “I met Maddy the same day I learned about Dahlia.”
“Then she’s a quick worker, getting you to agree to have her stay here.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
Tara might have more reason than she knew to be jealous but it hadn’t started out that way. Maddy hadn’t set a trap to ensnare an eligible bachelor. She’d made a vow and had come to Leadeebrook when she would rather not have. Her loyalty to his sister, her indignation toward him, hadn’t been an act.
Neither was the passion he’d felt break free when he’d held her last night. His palms had itched to shape over her curves. Conscience hadn’t been an issue. The primal need to know every inch of her had overshadowed everything.
Tara was imploring him with her eyes.
“Tell me nothing’s going on, Jack. Tell me and I’ll believe you. You’ve made mistakes before.” The passionate look wavered. “You don’t want to make another one.”
His eyes narrowed. He’d forget she said that.
“Tara, you and I are friends. I’ll always think of you as a friend.”
“Friendship can turn into love.” She held his jaw and hitched up to slip her lips over his. “It did for me.”
He found her hand and held it between both of his. “It’s better this way.”
He’d married once. He should have known that would do him a lifetime. The ring he wore around his neck would always live there.
But as he threw his hat back on and left the motel a few minutes later, he reminded himself that physical intimacy was another matter. No license was required to satisfy sexual needs. Needs every man had. Natural, instinctive. In this instance, fierce.
The chemistry was right between Maddy and him. Yesterday under the stars, it had been near uncontainable. Whether this fever was due to the upheaval of emotion these past days—the lasting bond he and Maddy had shared with Dahlia—he couldn’t say. All he knew with absolute certainty was he’d been attracted to Madison Tyler from the start. The attraction had grown to a point where, no matter what excuse he made, he couldn’t deny it.
He wanted her in his bed.
The primal urge was a force unto itself, demanding release, stoking his mind like a stick at a fire every other minute of the day. He’d never felt this intensely about a woman, not even Sue. He’d never gone there with Tara, neither in mind nor in body.
After the way Maddy had held onto him in the moonlight, her fingers twisting in his shirt, her mouth opening under his, inviting and welcoming him in …
Inhaling, he slipped into his vehicle, ignited the engine and pulled away from the curb.
It was foregone. Maddy felt the same way. She wanted what he wanted. Before the week was through, he would convince her they should take it.
Call back. Urgent re Pompadour account.
Biting her lip, Maddy shifted her gaze from the text message to baby Beau lying, happy and energetic, on a nearby blanket.
Beau had had his lunchtime bottle but had been too restless to go down. She’d done some research; babies’ routines changed all the time—teething problems, going to solids, natural decline in naps—all shook up what might seem like a set schedule. Rather than fight the tide, she’d spread a blanket out beneath the sprawling umbrella of a Poinciana tree and for the past twenty minutes had watched him kick and coo to his heart’s content.
