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.
Although everyone back home knew she was unavailable, out of habit she’d brought along her BlackBerry. While her father had been frosty about her request for this unscheduled break, he wouldn’t have left that message without good reason.
Maddy set the phone against her chin as her stomach flipped over.
Urgent …
Had Pompadour Shoes pulled the plug without having seen the campaign? Had another agency stolen their business? Or worse … had her father’s disappointment turned to action? Had he replaced her on the account?
Her thumb was poised over Redial when Nell appeared out of nowhere and sat herself down a few feet away. Maddy’s blood pressure climbed and she reached for Beau who, unconcerned, gnawed on a length of his rattle. But Nell’s attention was elsewhere … fixed on the hazy distance, her ears perked high.
Maddy breathed—slowly in, calmly out.
If the dog wanted to sit around, okay. She didn’t have dibs on this square of lawn, as long as Nell didn’t get any ideas about wanting to socialize. But when Beau began to grumble, Nell trotted over and the hairs on the back of Maddy’s neck stood up straight. Thankfully the collie didn’t stop and soon Maddy knew why. The sound of an engine. The same sound she’d heard leaving the property early that morning.
Jack was home.
Maddy’s heart began to thud. How would he tackle the subject of last night? Maybe he wouldn’t bring up that kiss at all, which was fine by her. During the hours before dawn, she’d reflected enough on the blissful way his mouth had worked over hers. Useless thoughts had wound a never-ending loop in her mind, like what if Cait had discovered them? Where would it have led if she
