MADISON LATCHED BOJANGLES’S stall door and took another look around, soaking up the scents and the comfort of coming home.
She would never admit it to Adam, but during the last ten minutes of tonight’s flight she’d doubted she’d ever see this old barn or her critters again. She hadn’t been that scared since the night of the car accident, when she’d been waiting for the ambulance and praying their injuries weren’t as bad as she’d suspected.
Fear had taken over her brain in those last turbulent eons of the flight, and she’d wondered if she’d die alone and if anyone would miss an old maid with only a farm full of strays for family. Piper and June would be upset for a little while. But in the long run, would the world be any different because she’d been here?
No. Sad fact.
Given her gloomy mood, she dreaded being alone in the house with Adam. He was smart, ambitious and cared about his parents—everything she’d found appealing in Andrew, without his negative qualities. Watching Adam’s face when Wilbur had purred his approval over being petted had been like watching a boy open birthday presents. Endearing. Adorable.
But just because Adam was handsome and had a knee-weakening boyish smile didn’t make him an eligible partner. It didn’t matter that he was calm in a crisis and had strong, steady hands on the yoke of the bucking plane. He was not Mr. Right or even Mr. Right-This-Minute.
If only his touch didn’t electrify her... If only he didn’t have adorable crinkles around his eyes when he smiled... If only her pulse didn’t skip when their eyes met... If only she didn’t ache to be held tonight, to have someone make her not feel so alone and insignificant.
She couldn’t—wouldn’t—go there. The temporary fix wouldn’t be worth the long-term hassle.
She’d come out to the barn to escape and count her blessings, never expecting Adam to insist on accompanying her. So much for peace, quiet and regrouping. But they couldn’t stay here all night. They both had to get up early tomorrow.
“Time to get wet again.” She dashed out of the shelter without waiting for a response. She sensed more than heard him behind her in the heavy downpour.
He stopped beside her on the porch. His hood had fallen off during the sprint and water beaded in the dark strands. He sluiced the rain from his face, then shoved a hand through his damp hair. It spiked in every direction. He looked deliciously disheveled and attractive, like a man fresh from the shower. She shut down that wayward, rabble-rousing thought.
He reached for her and she froze, heart stalling, lungs seizing. Anticipation burst through her veins. Only, instead of grabbing her, he reached past her and snagged a piece of paper that had been stuck to the freezer behind her. She hadn’t noticed the sticky note on their first trip inside.
She wasn’t disappointed. She wasn’t.
“‘Madison,’” he read. “‘Thanks for helping with Red. We made peach ice cream this week, and I know it’s your favorite. I left some in your freezer. Bill and Sue.’” He looked at her, one eyebrow hiked.
“Sweet.” She pulled open the door and spotted the newest of several dishes that didn’t belong to her. The fast-food dinner they’d eaten en route to the airport was long gone. Maybe a scoop or two of ice cream would soothe her unsettled stomach. On second thought, if she ate it now she’d have to offer some to Adam, and that meant more of his company. Not a good idea. She shut the door.
“People come onto your back porch while you’re not at home and leave food in your freezer?”
“Yes. I realize that might sound strange by Norcross standards, but it’s the country way. I often get paid in food, services or IOUs.”
“You make it sound like you’re not in this profession for the money.”
The idea surprised a laugh out loud from her. If only he knew how fine a line she walked every month with her budget. When she had both rental houses occupied she had a little more wiggle room. “Hardly. I’m fortunate that I had grants and scholarships, and then my parents’ life insurance policy to pay for college. I don’t have student loans hanging over me. Otherwise, I’d be in trouble.”
“You have a pattern of living off life insurance payouts.”
She stiffened at the implication. “I used both my parents’ and Andrew’s to invest in my future. I didn’t go on cruises or party it all away. Andrew’s life insurance paid for my farm and my practice.”
He studied her through narrowed eyes, then the assessment morphed into approval that warmed her to her core. Seconds later the kinetic connection she’d felt in the office before the kiss returned. Goose bumps lifted her skin. If she was smart she’d hurry to her room and put the barrier of a solid wood door between them.
She pivoted abruptly, hung her dripping rain slicker on a peg outside the back door and reentered the house. “You can have the bathroom first.”
“Thanks.” He’d hung up his coat, as well.
She stepped into her bedroom. He walked past and she pushed the panel shut and walked to the window overlooking the side yard. The area light in the barn gable cast enough of a dim glow for her to see there were no new branches down and no wiggling baby squirrels on the ground. She had nothing to keep her from lying in that bed and thinking about the emptiness threatening to engulf her.
But if she felt alone and disconnected she had no one but herself to blame. She kept people at a distance and had chosen not to open herself up to even the possibility of another romantic relationship. The decision to guard her heart had not come without consequences.
She flopped onto her bed and stared at the ceiling. She knew every noise this old house made, which meant it was all too easy for her to pick up the sound of Adam moving around the guest room, and then as he made his way to the bathroom between their rooms. He opened and closed the cabinet. Water sang through the pipes. The shower curtain scraped along the metal rod then back again. She hadn’t had a man in her shower since she’d moved in. A mental image of Adam naked bloomed in her mind. She closed her eyes and groaned.
Down hormones. Down.
Danny. Think about Danny. He had a struggle ahead, and Helen faced a tough road as his caregiver.
But instead of her former in-laws, she saw Adam’s laughing face and the surprise lighting his eyes when his father had shared his story of slipping in a poodle puddle and splitting his head open on an exam table. Danny had confessed he’d been so embarrassed he’d begged his vet tech to stitch him up rather than take him to the E.R. And he’d forbidden anyone to tell Helen, because he hadn’t wanted to worry her.
Helen and Danny had always had the kind of relationship Madison envied. They’d been friends as well as husband and wife, with never a harsh word spoken. But something had changed in the past six years. Had Danny’s diagnosis caused the gulf between them? Or had it been going on longer than that? Since Andrew’s death? If so, Madison had another log of guilt to pile on her fire.
The water shut off with a clank. She pictured Adam, wet and naked, stepping from behind the shower curtain. Her stomach dropped faster than it had when they’d hit air pocket after air pocket during the turbulent flight. What was wrong with her?
The problem was she liked and respected Adam more than she ever had Andrew. With Andrew she’d been blindly, stupidly in love. She’d seen his flash and charm and totally missed his lack of substance. She’d admired his ambition, not realizing that he undermined others to achieve his goals.
She’d awakened slowly to Andrew’s personality quirks, but by then she was married to him and that meant she’d do her best to make the relationship work. She’d vowed she would never emulate her mother and seek affection elsewhere.
Not a memory train she wanted to ride.
The bathroom hinges creaked and the shifting floorboards marked Adam’s return to his room. She rubbed her burning, churning belly. The discomfort had to be a cry for food. Didn’t it? She’d never be able to sleep with all that irritation. She needed a snack. Shower first or ice cream?
She couldn’t handle the idea of stepping into a stall still warm from Adam’s steam. Ice cream won. But for insurance’s sake she’d give Adam five more minutes to get to bed before venturing out. She rose and moved around the room by rote, putting her damp clothes in the hamper, changing into her shorty pajamas and going through her usual nighttime routine. Silence descended, broken only by the rain on the roof and the wind whipping along the eaves, making the old house pop and settle.
Then time was up. She pulled on her robe. Praying the wet weather wouldn’t make the door swell and stick, she wrapped her fingers around the crystal knob, twisted gently and opened the panel. Whew. No scrape. She stepped into the hall and came face-to-face with Adam exiting the bathroom.
Every cell in her body snapped to attention. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the urge to trace the curve of his pectorals, to tease the tiny buttons of his nipples, hit her viscerally. She yanked her attention from that taboo territory to his blue eyes.
His gaze held hers for the briefest of moments, then burned a path from her head to her feet, making her wish she’d kept on her damp scrubs. She curled her bare toes into the floor, pushed back her hair and scrambled to find a way to escape before she made a mistake she couldn’t undo. “I thought you’d gone to bed.”
“I left my watch and cell phone in the bathroom. I need an alarm.” He lifted a hand, displaying both. The action made his thick biceps contract. Her abdominal muscles did the same.
“I don’t have a clock in the guest room, do I?” she blabbered, and could have kicked herself for being an idiot.
“No.”
“Sorry.” Her mouth was dry. Her pulse pounded against her eardrums.
“No problem.”
Neither of them moved. “The um...storm’s getting worse,” she blurted into the awkward silence.
“Sounds like it. Madison, I owe you an apology.”
“Why?”
“The first time I came here I resented the hell out of my father bringing you back into our lives. But you’re not the woman I thought you were. You’re...more compassionate and generous than I’d been led to believe.”
The compliment sandbagged her and undermined her defenses even more. “I... Apology accepted. G-good night, Adam.”
He remained where he was, squarely blocking the hall. She debated taking her heartburn back to bed.
“You think that ice cream’s any good?”
The question, accompanied by that boyish grin, knocked her mentally off-balance. “Sue makes the best peach ice cream I’ve ever tasted. She and Bill grow the peaches on their farm, and Sue’s father owns the dairy that supplies the cream. The ingredients don’t come any fresher.”
“Any chance there’s enough for two and that you’re willing to share?”
How could she refuse that glimmer of anticipation in his eyes? Wise or not, she couldn’t. “That’s actually where I was headed. If you’ll grab the ice cream, I’ll get the bowls.”
“Deal.”
Given the emptiness welling inside her that she knew ice cream couldn’t fill, this would probably be another decision she’d regret. But then, her life had been liberally littered with those.
* * *
THUNDER BOOMED CLOSE by, rattling the house. Adam put the last spoonful of ice cream into his mouth and let the rich dessert slide down his throat. Madison was only a scoop behind. She lowered the utensil to the bowl and licked her lips. He caught himself following the movement and averted his gaze.
“Didn’t I tell you it was the best?” she asked.
“You didn’t exaggerate. I’ll take care of the dishes.” He collected the bowls, rose and looked around. “No dishwasher?”
“No. June’s grandfather was old school and never installed one. I didn’t see the point in going to the trouble or expense just for me. I don’t use that many dishes.”
Something they had in common. “I hear that.”
She extracted a bottle of dish liquid and a sponge from the cabinet beneath the sink. “You can rescind your offer to wash up if you want since it’s hard manual labor.”
The teasing tone of her voice made him smile. “I think I can handle it. It’s the least I can do since sharing means you won’t get seconds. Not even my great-grandmother’s peach ice cream was that good.”
She got a faraway sad look in her eyes. “My mother used to make homemade vanilla with my grandmother’s ice cream freezer. My sister and I would fight for turns at cranking the handle.”
He knew very little about her life before Andrew other than that she’d grown up somewhere in tornado alley. “Andrew and I did the same. I remember being disappointed after my grandparents passed away and Mom bought an electric machine. Wow. I haven’t thought about that in twenty years.”
Lightning struck nearby, making the fine hair on his arms lift. “That was close.”
Then the lights flickered and went out. The instant total darkness of the countryside was a surprise. He couldn’t see his hand at the end of his arm, and he couldn’t see her beside him. But he could feel her and hear her breathing. The awareness of Madison was unsettling.
“You’re off the hook for washing up. I’m on a well. No power means no well pump. We can’t turn on the water. Stay put. I’ll get a light.”
The sound of her bare feet padded toward the front of the house. He heard the scrape of a match—the old-fashioned wooden kind—then the tinkle of glass. A glow lit the den. Madison returned carrying an old brass hurricane lantern.
“Know how to use one of these?” she asked.
“I camp.”
“Then you can take the lamp. I don’t need it—I know this house as well as I know my own face.”
“You’re used to taking care of yourself.”
“I’m pretty self-sufficient. Good night, Adam.”
Another of Andrew’s tales bit the dust. His brother had claimed Madison expected everything to be done for her when she was at home.
“At least let me walk you to your room.”
She looked ready to argue, then shrugged and headed down the hall. A louder clap of thunder shook the walls, followed by a crack then a heavy thump outside. She darted ahead into her bedroom and to the window overlooking the side yard.
“A branch came down.”
He joined her, but couldn’t see anything except the glare of the flame on the glass. He set the lamp on a dresser, then stood beside her at the window until another flash of lightning lit the lawn. “It’s a big one, but it doesn’t look like it landed on anything.”
“No. But we’re lucky it wasn’t an entire tree. The ground is saturated from all the recent rain and oaks have shallow root systems. With winds like this it’s not unusual for them to topple over.” She opened the window and waited. He didn’t know for what.
“What are you doing?”
“Listening for the cry of a critter that needs rescuing. I’m glad we landed before the worst of the storm hit.” She closed the window, then wrapped her arms around her middle. Their shoulders brushed.
Awareness jolted him like an electric charge. “The storm rattled you.”
“Didn’t it you?”
“Yeah.”
“I wasn’t sure we’d make it,” she confessed with obvious reluctance.
His brother would have blustered about being in control the whole time, never admitting weakness, fear or being wrong. Well, he wasn’t Andrew. “There were moments I had my doubts.”
“You never let on.”
“I didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily. And I was too busy praying.” He added the last as an attempt at humor.
A smile tweaked a corner of her mouth. “Me, too.”
In that moment he realized he actually liked Madison. Given other circumstances and other histories, he’d have wanted to know her better.
Something changed as they stood staring at each other. Then her lips parted and her pupils expanded, telling him something he didn’t want to know. Ever since that kiss he’d wondered if he was the only one hijacked by an attraction he shouldn’t feel.
Negative. The electrical charge sparked between them now.
The small circle of lamplight intensified the intimacy of their situation and sharpened his senses. Here in her room, with her bed only feet away, her scent was stronger, more potent, but still subtle. Her warmth trespassed into his space and sweat beaded on his back and streaked downward, making him glad he’d put on his shirt before eating ice cream.
He wanted to blame his overheated status on the power outage that had shut down the air-conditioning. But what tugged at him was the same unexplainable magnetic pull that had grabbed him in the workroom at his father’s office. He hadn’t understood it then and couldn’t explain it now. All he knew was that he wanted her. Madison. A woman who was off-limits.
A smart man would retreat before he did something stupid like stroke the worry from her brow or rescue her bottom lip from the pinch of her teeth. His feet ignored his order to leave.
Who was this woman who fiercely protected the ones no one else wanted? She appeared tough on the outside, but was loving and loyal to her collection of rejects. And while she had every reason to keep giving his family the cold shoulder, she’d been far nicer to his mother than she deserved.
He was undeniably drawn to Madison. She was a walking contradiction, an enigma he wanted to figure out.
The hollows of her cheeks appeared deeper in the dim light, as did the dip between her mouth and chin. He traced the former, then the latter. Her breath hitched. The pulse at the base of her neck fluttered wildly beneath his fingertip.
“Adam.” Her voice was more plea than protest.
She tilted her head in invitation. Even as he told himself he shouldn’t, his fingers slipped into her silky hair and he lowered his head. Her lids drifted closed a split second before his lips brushed her brow, her cheek, the bridge of her nose.
Then he discovered the flavors of sweet cream and peach lingering on her mouth, but her flesh was anything but cold like the ice cream. The heat of her tongue touched his and hunger engulfed him.
She wound her arms around his waist and fisted her hands in his shirt, pulling him closer. Close enough that her breasts pressed into his chest, burning him through the thin layers of their clothing. Close enough that her hips nudged his.
Close enough and yet not nearly close enough.
Arousal rushed through his veins with every accelerating beat of his heart. He bunched his fists in her hair, kissing her harder, deeper. She mirrored his actions, fueling the fire in his gut as she met him stroke for stroke. He skimmed his palms down her back. She shifted against him until the softness of her mound cradled his thickening flesh. A mew of approval slipped from her mouth into his. She shivered, then kneaded him like a cat with her short nails. Now he knew why cats purred.
Her touch, her kisses, shouldn’t feel this good. They shouldn’t make him this hot or make him want this badly. This wasn’t right. He knew it. Damn it, he knew. But he couldn’t push her away. He unknotted her belt, then shoved the robe aside and found the hot sliver of skin between her pajama top and bottom. Her muscles rippled beneath his fingertips.
She reciprocated by plowing her hands under his T-shirt. Her delicate touch along his ribs sent a shudder racking through him. She caught his hands, stilling them and flattening them over her hip bones. He battled resignation, regret, unsatisfied desire and disappointment. Stopping was the right thing to do. Even if it would likely cripple him.
She slowly guided him upward, inch by tantalizing inch, along her waist, over her rib cage, until he cupped her breasts. She broke the kiss with a gasp. Her desire-filled eyes found his, and the hunger in their depths knocked the breath from him. He simply savored her shape, then he circled his palms, allowing her taut tips to tease him. Each go-round coiled his body into a tighter spiral of need and took him closer to the point of no return. All the while he held her gaze, watching her eyelids grow heavier.
Then she blinked and her fingertips skimmed a trail across his back, his sides, his abdomen, searing him. She outlined his navel and his muscles jumped, flicked his nipples and his insides fisted. She shrugged out of her robe and pushed at his shirt, urging it over his head. He stripped his away, then hers, and drank in the sight of her.
She had curves where a woman should. Her breasts were small but perfectly formed, the tips puckering and begging for attention. Her waist dipped in, then eased back out to hips that held up her low-riding pajama pants. The drawstring tied below her navel riveted his attention. He wanted to unwrap the rest of her, to taste all of her.
“Adam, I need...” Her eyes closed, opened, and the want in them rocked him to the core. She gulped air. “I need you to hold me.”
He didn’t have to be asked twice. She stepped into his arms, fusing her body to his. The intense heat of her skin melding to his hit him like nothing he’d ever experienced. The fusion of their lips was just as potent. His head spun. His lungs tightened. He’d had no idea the groove below his pectorals was an erogenous zone until her nipples brushed him there and sucked the air from the room. Everywhere he touched was as smooth as satin, only warmer.
Soft lips found his collarbone, teasing him with a series of butterfly kisses, then her tongue traveled the same path. He gripped her bottom. Her muscles tensed and she swayed against him, back and forth like a pendulum, multiplying his need exponentially until all he could think of was satisfying this overwhelming craving for her. He struggled for balance and restraint, but he was on a slippery slope.
He stroked the length of her thighs left bare by her short pajama bottoms, up and down until he became entangled in the fabric. Frustrated by the barrier, he stabbed his hands beneath the waistband. Her butt was smooth, warm, firm. Her shuddery gasps rewarded him when he traced the skin beneath her hip bone, then found curls.
He palmed the texture, finding the way it tickled his hand incredibly arousing and erotic. He hadn’t been with a woman who didn’t shave her intimate area in a long time. And then he discovered the slick crease. She jerked in his arms then widened her stance, giving him better access. Her tongue found his nipple and mimicked the circles he drew on her tender flesh, shocking him with a current of desire. Her breaths quickened. Her body stiffened. Her teeth grazed gently, and he almost lost it. Clamping his jaw, he battled his way back from the edge.
A moment later she buried her face in his chest and clung to his shoulders. Spasms of release shook her and a whimper escaped her hot mouth. Then her knees buckled. He caught her, swept her into his arms and placed her on the bed. A split second later his jeans were on the floor.
She lay there, long and lean and beautiful, her dark hair spilling across the quilt. He wanted to be against every inch of her. He yanked her drawstring, then stripped her bottoms. She sat up, reaching for him and encircling his erection. She stroked him with one hand and hooked the other around his hip, urging him closer. He teetered on the verge of control. He wanted to bury his face in those dark curls and taste her, but he couldn’t wait another second. He joined her on the bed, parted her thighs and drove into her.
Slick heat welcomed him and overwhelmed him. He tried to slow his movements, tried to tamp down his rapid response by focusing on her pleasure. But he couldn’t douse the flames. She had her eyes closed, her head thrown back and her spine arched as he sank into her again and again. He bent to capture a nipple, to suckle and nip one tip then the other. Her moan and the embrace of her inner muscles rewarded him.
In the near darkness he could see the flush of her approaching release on her chest, rising to her face. Then it hit her and she cried out. Her orgasm was a beautiful thing. Contraction after contraction squeezed him, then she relaxed and her eyes fluttered open.
With pupils expanded and lips parted, she caressed his biceps, his pectorals. Her nails flicked his nipples and an electric sensation shot straight to his groin. Her smooth legs twined around him, pulling him even deeper. She grasped his butt with her strong hands, digging in her short nails as another orgasm rocked her. Release exploded from him, gushing like a broken dam until he was spent, empty, drained.
He collapsed to his elbows and tried to right his world. Tried to figure out what in the hell had happened. Sex had never been that powerful for him.
Sex. With his brother’s wife.