you can call me Sara. Did you walk down here with Alexander McCoy?” she asked.
“No, I didn’t.” Madeline had practically scurried down here looking for Alex, which Sara certainly wouldn’t appreciate hearing.
Sara had been particularly protective of the McCoys since Marcus’s death, furthering Madeline’s perception that there were secrets to be guarded.
Madeline adjusted the spaghetti strap on one shoulder. “I needed a break from the heat of the lights and all the people wanting their fifteen minutes in the spotlight. Alex always used to talk about how peaceful the stable was, and I thought I’d give it a shot.”
Sara nodded slowly, plainly weighing the likelihood of Madeline’s explanation. The creases between her eyebrows vanished and she sighed, apparently buying into the fib. “Have you by any chance come across Alex? Joseph wants him.”
Madeline had a sneaking suspicion that Joseph was the last person Alex wanted to be summoned to right now.
After her, that is.
He clearly needed time alone during which he wouldn’t be forced into putting his “party face” on. It would be the only reason that responsible, reliable Alex would take off into the night the way he had during the middle of such an important party.
The memory of the despair in his voice pinched Madeline in the heart.
The man deserved a break, so on the off chance he cut his moonlight ride short and returned soon, she lied. “You know, before I left the house I think I overheard Senator Percy saying something about Alex promising to show him that eight-car garage this place has and all the big-boy toys filling it. You might find him there.”
Sara blew out a breath and rolled her eyes heavenward in obvious relief. “Oh, good.” Looking again at Madeline, Sara smiled, and it appeared genuine enough to prick Madeline’s conscience. “Thank you very much.”
As Sara stepped back through the door, she said, “I hope you’re getting some good material for your segment. I know Joseph appreciates your professionalism and integrity.”
Oh, yeah, she was professional all right, begging some guy for scraps in a horse stall. And her integrity, well, she’d just given a fine example of that.
Sara raised a hand in farewell. “Have a nice break. But don’t miss the fireworks. They’re definitely worth seeing.”
Madeline returned the wave and forced a smile. “Thank you. I won’t.”
She would stay just long enough to bang her head against the nearest post. The only thing she’d found out for sure tonight was that there was nothing “former” about her feelings for the man she was supposed to be doing an exposé on.
And it scared the hell out of her.
Chapter Three
His navy pinstripe suit coat bunched at his shoulders and his dark blue silk tie uncharacteristically loosened, Alex stared at the pile of papers that had accumulated on his desk since he’d last been at McCoy Enterprises headquarters.
Morning sunshine flooded his big corner office on the fourteenth floor, making all the leather and mahogany furnishings he occasionally found oppressive radiate warmth and luxury. The cup of freshly brewed coffee Peggy had just brought in and set within easy reach filled the air with rich aroma.
A dark, gloomy day and a shot of throat-stinging whiskey would have been more appropriate to his mood than a scene straight from a Maxwell House commercial.
He’d tried like hell since the night of the party to beat this funk that had overtaken him, to move past the lies, to come to grips with them. But no matter how far or fast he rode or how long he brooded in his suite of rooms, the fact remained that his entire sense of self had been shaken to the very root.
He pushed aside the pile of papers that needed his attention, planted his elbows on the huge mahogany desk and buried his hands in his hair to support his head. So much for work distracting him enough to get him through the day.
The only thing—or more accurately, person—to distract him for so much as a moment had been a beautiful blonde with blue eyes so pale they reminded him of the most expensive aquamarines. A woman he’d never quite been able to forget, even knowing she’d dated him to get Joseph to help her land a high-profile job suited to a former beauty queen.
Entertainment news. Give me a break.
Now that his head was full of images of her in the moonlight, her beaded dress catching the glow and hugging her curves like a red silk sheet and her eyes brimming with compassion, she would haunt him forever at some level.
The hinges on the door to his office creaked in the way a door only creaks when someone is trying to open it silently. Lifting just his gaze, he watched the oversize mahogany door inch open.
Man, he hoped he hadn’t scared Peggy when she’d brought his coffee in. The ability to engage in pleasantries seemed beyond him lately.
Hopefully those outside the family-secrets loop would continue to assume Marcus’s death was the cause of Alex’s unusual behavior. The excuse wouldn’t last forever, though. If only he knew what to do to get back to as close to normal as possible.
A face finally appeared around the door to his office, but it wasn’t his personal assistant’s sharply angular one, which was in such opposition to her gentle nature yet perfectly matched her detail-oriented efficiency. Instead, the gleaming blond hair, softly rounded chin and jaw, full mouth, slender nose and arresting light blue eyes belonged to a woman considered worthy of representing a whole section of the country.
The very woman he’d just been thinking of.
Maddy Monroe was letting herself in.
Unannounced.
Uninvited.
Definitely unwelcome.
Her pale blue gaze landed on his, and after a heartbeat’s hesitation, during which he almost believed he saw trepidation, she smiled her glossy TV smile. “Alex! Got a minute?”
She was in reporter mode. Even if she wasn’t and she tempted him to think of her as a friend—or more than a friend—as she had the other night with her tender, understanding eyes and soothing voice, he had to resist talking to her. He couldn’t talk to anyone because no one could possibly understand what he was going through.
He lifted his head from his hands and slumped back in his chair. “No. I don’t.”
She slipped through the door and closed it behind her anyway. Her pastel pink blouse and white slacks weren’t as camera-ready as the jackets and skirts she usually wore, but they had probably allowed her to slip unnoticed onto the top executive floor. “This will be quick, I swear.”
He smoothed a hand down his dark blue tie to straighten it against his shirt. “Yes, it will. Because you’re leaving.” He gestured at the door she was inching away from.
“Just a couple of questions, Alex. Please,” she begged prettily, but there was a quaver to her voice. He halted in the middle of reaching
