With the big country club barbeque coming up this weekend, Maddie decided to work late tonight and tie up all the loose ends. And if she were completely honest with herself, she’d admit that she simply did not want to go home to her big, empty condo. These past couple of weeks had been the longest, most miserable of her life. And all because of Dylan Bridges. Stubborn mule! After their close brush with disaster and the warning phone call, Dylan had told her that her days playing amateur sleuth were over.
“I won’t be responsible for your getting hurt,” he’d told her. “From now on, I’ll be flying solo, honey. I do not want you involved.”
“But I am involved.”
“Not any longer.”
He’d been adamant about ending not only their Nick and Nora Charles act, but their personal relationship, too. No amount of arguing or pleading had swayed him one iota. For the first week she had tried showing up at his house every day, only to be sent away again and again. A couple of times, she had followed him, but he’d managed to get away from her. Her phone messages were not returned, and the few times he’d actually answered his phone, he’d told her in no uncertain terms to leave him the hell alone.
Maddie reminded herself that Dylan thought he was protecting her by staying away from her. But she didn’t feel protected. She felt lonely, abandoned and in desperate need of one of Dylan’s marvelous smiles. She had become quickly addicted to his unassuming charm and was now having severe withdrawal symptoms.
Admit the truth, she told herself. Thelma was right. You were beginning to fall in love with Dylan. Okay, so she was halfway in love with the man. If he didn’t return her feelings, she simply shouldn’t allow herself to care so much. But how did she stop herself from caring? How could she give up the hope that Dylan loved her, too? But if he continued keeping her at arm’s length, what chance would Dylan have to discover that he loved her?
If only the police would find Carl Bridges’ murderer. But it seemed that they were no closer now to making an arrest than they’d been the night the judge had been killed. And Hart had told her that despite the warning from “the family,” Dylan hadn’t stopped digging into matters best handled by the law. She should be helping him. What if he got into trouble? Dammit, why didn’t the man realize how much he needed her?
Maddie yawned. She hadn’t slept well lately and had kept herself so busy that she was exhausted. Maybe it was time to call it a night and head home. She could think about Dylan at home just as easily as she could here at the club. It really didn’t matter where she was or what she was doing, thoughts of Dylan crept into her mind.
Suddenly Maddie heard an odd noise, as if something had fallen in the outer office. But at ten-thirty there was no one here tonight, except her. Even the club and the restaurants were all closed by now.
Footsteps. Was that what she heard? Maddie listened. Silence. Was her imagination working overtime?
This late at night, there would be only two security guards at the club. One was stationed outside and the second one kept watch at a closed-circuit television behind the registration desk in the lobby. Just call downstairs and ask the guard to come up and check things out, she told herself. What does it matter if he doesn’t find anything? Better safe than sorry.
Maddie lifted the telephone receiver to her ear as she poised her index finger over the buttons. She hit the one that would ring the front desk. Nothing. That was odd. She tried again. Still nothing. She punched the nine for an outside line. No dial tone. Don’t panic, she cautioned herself. Just walk across the room and lock the door, then use your cell phone to call for help. Do it. Do it now!
Maddie shoved back her chair, stood and then ran toward the door. Her heart raced, the beat thundering in her ears. She slammed the door closed, then grabbed the handle with the intention of locking the door. A powerful force shoved the door open and a large, dark hand reached out and grabbed her. Before she caught more than a quick glimpse of the side of his swarthy face covered by a sheer stocking, he twisted her around so that her back was up against his chest. As she opened her mouth to scream, he gagged her with his open palm.
His hot breath fanned her neck as his lips grazed her ear. “Tell Dylan Bridges to be on the next plane to Dallas. And if he isn’t, then I’ll pay you another visit and I won’t be so nice next time. I’ll slit your throat. Tell him that, too.”
Dylan drove ninety to nothing in his haste to get to the country club. The deep, menacing voice over the phone had told him that he should go see his girlfriend, that she had a message for him. The call had come in five minutes ago while Dylan was driving home from the Mission Creek Café, where he’d eaten a late supper.
“What have you done to Maddie?” Dylan had demanded.
“Other than give her an important message for you?” The guy had laughed. “Why don’t you run over to the country club and find out for yourself what’s been done to her?”
When Dylan couldn’t reach Maddie at her office number, fear ate away at his insides like an insidious acid, destroying slowly but surely. If Maddie was hurt…God help the bastard who had harmed her.
As he parked his rental car under the canopied entrance to the club, Dylan begged God not to let any harm come to Maddie. Sweet, beautiful Maddie, who was so innocent in all this dirty, rotten mess. Once again, because of her association with him, she was in trouble. Big trouble this time. He’d tried to put some distance between them in order to keep her safe, but apparently the bad guys realized just how much Maddie Delarue meant to him.
Dylan rushed to the front door. Locked! He beat on the glass until the security guard appeared.
“Let me in,” he screamed. “Maddie—Ms. Delarue is in trouble. Someone’s in her office to harm her. Right now. Dammit, man, let me in.”
Curt Dodd unlocked the door. Dylan rushed in right past the guard, who called out to him, “Hey, hold up there.”
“I phoned the police on my way here,” Dylan said. “Keep a lookout for them while I go up and check on Maddie.”
“But you don’t have a weapon,” Curt called out, but Dylan was already on the waiting elevator.
Hurry. Go faster. Damn! Why hadn’t he taken the stairs? The elevator doors swung open. Dylan ran down the corridor and straight to Maddie’s office suite. The door stood open, revealing a darkened interior. Only a dim light came from beyond the outer office, from somewhere inside Maddie’s private domain. Dylan paused and listened. He heard mumbling that sounded like a man’s voice speaking soft and low.
Adrenaline pumped through Dylan’s system at supersonic speed. In that instant all pretense of the civilized male disappeared from his chemical makeup. He was primitive man, primed and ready to defend his mate—to the death if necessary. He walked quietly into Alicia’s office and snaked softly around the wall until he reached the wide open door to Maddie’s office. Inside a brass banker’s lamp burned softly on the ornate mahogany desk, and gave off a dim glow that cast shadows on the walls.
A man whose stocking-masked face was partially blocked by Maddie’s head held her in front of him, one arm draped across her throat while his other arm moved up and down across her body, his hands caressing her roughly. Bright red rage boiled inside Dylan. He’d kill the son of a bitch.
“Maybe I ought to find out for myself just what Dylan Bridges likes about you, other than the obvious.”
Dylan didn’t see any sign of a weapon on the guy, but weapon or no weapon, it didn’t matter to him. As long as Maddie was in no danger of being shot or stabbed, he’d take his chances. Like a raging bull, Dylan charged into the office. Before her assailant realized what was happening, he grabbed the man, which instantly freed Maddie from his hold. She reeled to one side, then being temporarily unbalanced, fell to the floor. The guy swung at Dylan, who sidestepped the first punch; then Dylan landed a hard blow to the man’s belly. The attacker groaned loudly as he doubled over. When Dylan moved in for the kill, something hit him over the head and knocked him to his knees. For a split second everything went black, then his vision returned. Fuzzy. Unfocused. Looking back over his shoulder, he tried to stand and saw the blurred images of two men rushing through the door. Two? Had there been two, or was he seeing double?
Maddie shoved herself onto her knees then lifted herself up and onto her feet. “Dylan!”
He staggered as he tried to stand. “Maddie? Maddie, honey, are you all right?”
“Yes, thanks to you.” She rushed to him, put her left arm around his waist and lifted her right hand to the top of his head. “He hit you with the butt of his gun.”
“He had a gun?”
“Yes. The other man had a gun.”
“Then there were two of them?”
“Yes, the one you were fighting with and the one who hit you over the head.”
“They didn’t hurt you, did they?” Dylan grabbed her by the shoulders and stared into her eyes. “When I saw the way he was touching you…God, Maddie, I’m sorry. This was all my fault. They came after you as a warning to me.”
“How did you—? How could you have known about them?”
“I got a phone call.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “Undoubtedly whoever hired those goons to come here called me a little prematurely. He probably didn’t pay the guy to feel you up.” Dylan rubbed his cheek against hers. “He thought they’d be gone by the time I got here.”
“I have never been so scared in my life,” she admitted.
“Yeah, honey, me, too. If anything had happened to you…God, Maddie, what have I gotten you into?”
Someone cleared their throat. Someone standing in the doorway. Maddie tensed, then glanced over Dylan’s shoulder and sighed with relief when she saw Hart O’Brien.
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Hart said. “What have you gotten her into with your nosing around in stuff that’s police business?”
Dylan didn’t release his tenacious hold on Maddie; he simply eased her around as he turned to face Hart. “Did you catch them?”
“Nope. But a couple of black-and-whites are in pursuit right now.”
“When you catch them, I want to—”
Maddie placed two fingers over Dylan’s mouth. “You’re not going to do anything until we take you to the hospital and let a doctor examine you.”
“What happened to you?” Hart asked.
“Nothing,” Dylan replied.
“One of the guys hit Dylan over the head with the butt of his gun.”
Hart lifted his eyebrows in a contemplating gesture. “If the guy had a gun, why didn’t he just shoot you?”
“I think his orders were to scare Maddie,” Dylan said. “Not kill anyone.”
“One of you want to tell me exactly what happened?” Hart asked. “I was told that Dylan Bridges called in and said that someone was going to attack Maddie Delarue in her office at the country club.”
“Do you mind if we fill you in on the details after I take Dylan to the hospital?” Maddie shoved against Dylan’s chest so that he loosened his death grip on her.
“I don’t need to go to the hospital,” Dylan assured her.
She reached up, felt the bump on his head and tsk-tsked. “You’ve got a lump the size of a golf ball. I’m taking you to Mission Creek Memorial.” She glanced at Hart. “Follow us, will you?”
“Maddie, I’m all right.” Dylan balked when she tried to lead him toward the door.
“You might as well go peacefully,” Hart said. “If she’s anything like Joan—and I figure she is—she’s not going to take no for an answer.”
Dylan looked at Maddie. “Will it make you feel better if I—”
“Yes!”
Three and a half hours later, Maddie and Dylan opened the front door of the Bridges home at 1010 Royal Avenue. Hart had sent a black-and-white to follow them and stay posted outside all night. He’d offered a policeman to escort Maddie home, but she’d told him that she’d be staying the night at Dylan’s because he’d been diagnosed with a mild concussion and couldn’t be left alone.
“I’m all right, dammit,” Dylan said as he jerked away from Maddie. “Stop treating me as if I’m dying.”
“Sorry.” She eased away from him. Why hadn’t she learned by now that Dylan didn’t like to be smothered with attention? Every time she got too close to that little-boy vulnerability that existed in him, as it did in all men, he pulled away from her. A defense mechanism inherent in all macho guys? she wondered.
“No, honey, I’m the one who’s sorry,” he reached out and ruffled her hair. His hand lingered; his fingers spread apart, burrowed through her hair and gripped the back of her head. He stared directly into her eyes. “You don’t know how sorry I am that I ever got you involved in my problems.”
“I volunteered,” she told him. “You didn’t force me. Heck, you didn’t even ask.”
“Yeah, but look where that big heart of yours has gotten you. Right in the middle of a dangerous situation.” Keeping his hold on the back of her head, he pulled her toward him. “If anything had happened to you tonight—”
She pressed her fingertips over his lips. “I’m all right. The only thing that happened was that those men frightened me. You’re the one who got hurt.”
“What hurt me the most was knowing that I put you in that situation. Can you ever forgive me?”
He looked at her with such hunger in his eyes that the intensity of his gaze sent shivers of pure awareness through her body. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
“Maddie…God, I’ve missed you, honey.”
He kissed her. Hard, passionate and possessive.
Maddie’s bones seemed to dissolve into warm liquid as the heat between her thighs grew hotter and hotter. Dylan was the only man who’d ever made her feel this way. Consumed by a primitive desire, she longed for him to take her. Here and now. Without any preamble. Just raw, savage mating.
He kissed her. And kissed her. And kissed her again. His mouth pressed, then withdrew. Then pressed again. He covered her face and throat with kisses before returning to her mouth. His tongue circled and tasted. His teeth nipped and pulled gently. And when she trembled, he tightened his hold on her head, held her forcefully in place and kissed her with a thoroughness that took her breath away.
Hunger exploded inside her, becoming a ravaging beast guided solely by the need for appeasement. She jerked his shirt open, popping buttons in her urgency. Her hands were everywhere on his body—stroking his chest, lightly dusted with pale brown hair; caressing his neck; flicking his tiny nipples; struggling to unbuckle his belt. Dylan responded by lifting her cotton sweater over her rib cage, which prompted her to lift her arms so that he could remove the garment. While she returned to her efforts to undo his belt, he unhooked her bra. They tore at each other’s clothes, tossing a sock here, a shoe there. His briefs landed on the coffee table; her panties flew across the room and sailed beneath the sofa.
Naked, fully aroused and disregarding logical thought, they kissed, they fondled, they panted breathlessly. Dylan lifted Maddie off her feet, hoisting her up so that she could wrap her legs around his hips. He maneuvered her this way and that until he aligned her perfectly to take the full thrust of his sex as he shoved up and into her. Maddie cried out with pure, earth-shattering pleasure, the feel of him inside her glorious beyond words.
Gripping her hips, he moved her up and down. His groans echoed in her ears, the hungry grunts of an aroused male. While Maddie held on to him, her breasts rubbing against him, from neck to mid-chest, he pumped into her. Suddenly she felt the wall at her back and realized that Dylan had eased them several feet across the living room. Braced by the wall, Maddie grabbed his shoulders and flung her head back. Dylan kissed her neck, then licked a moist line across the top of her breasts. Her nipples tightened to diamond-hard points. Her femininity screamed with sensation.
“Maddie…Maddie…Maddie…” Dylan increased the tempo, hammering into her, murmuring earthy, erotic words, telling her explicitly what he wanted and what he felt.
Throbbing unbearably, the need for fulfillment rioting inside her, Maddie gasped and panted while Dylan’s hard, powerful lunges took her to the very edge. And then with one final thrust, he flung her into a moaning, clawing explosion of the senses unequaled by any other experience in her life. While her climax burst inside her, around her and through her, Maddie felt his release jet into her, strong and hot. Dylan cried out, hammered frenetically into her several times, then grunted as he buried his head against her shoulder.
Maddie slid her legs down his hips and over his legs until her feet touched the floor. But he clasped her hips, keeping their bodies molded together and his sex inside her. When she lifted her gaze to look at him, he lowered his head, whispered, “Sweet Maddie,” and kissed her again.