Читать книгу Reclaiming His Legacy - Dani Wade - Страница 11

What the hell was he doing here?

Blake should have been perfectly at home at the party being held at the home of one of Louisiana’s most famous power couples. It was the type of event where people with money gathered to discuss local gossip and politics, and generally impress others with their money and intelligence…or lack thereof. Blake frequented many such parties all across Europe. The only change was the language and food. The people were mostly the same.

While he usually anticipated getting lucky at such parties, he’d never gone to one for the express purpose of initiating a one-night stand.

Yes, casual sex was a part of his lifestyle, but the women he spent time with were always on the same page. He made sure of that up front. The fact that the only plan he could come up with—in terms of feasibility and expediency—was to get into the Landry home by way of a one-night stand brought on a completely foreign feeling of shame.

But for Abigail, he’d do what he had to.

Hell, even reporting Armand for neglect wasn’t an option. His father had more than one city official in his pocket. Besides, could he risk the possibility that Abigail might be forced into foster care before he could get everything worked out? At least at home there was a sympathetic housekeeper to keep an eye on her. Sherry couldn’t be with her all the time, but she was always nearby and looking out for Abigail. At least, that’s what Blake had gathered from their phone conversations. Given the odds of her ending up some place worse than his father’s house, Blake knew his best bet was to get the diamond as soon as absolutely possible.

So, as uncomfortable as the idea made him, his only choice seemed to be seducing Madison Landry to fulfill his father’s demands…unless he wanted to resort to breaking and entering.

It hadn’t taken him long to spot the woman he sought in the crowd, though she appeared much younger than he’d anticipated.

Even in the photographs in the file, she hadn’t looked quite as old as her twenty-six years. Maybe it was her pale complexion or the dusting of freckles across her nose that she hadn’t bothered to hide for tonight’s occasion. But somehow he’d expected the hard life that had been briefly chronicled in the file to show on her face.

She’d also spent most of her time here barely speaking and rarely venturing from the table she was standing near. He’d been anticipating someone eager to display herself on the marriage market, rather than the quiet woman he saw before him. After all, she was young, single and had too hard of a life to be a party girl. She wasn’t dancing, though she moved slightly to the music as if it intrigued her. There was no steady round of interested men introducing themselves. Certainly no flirting.

She appeared to be a species he had no experience with.

He had enough confidence to approach her while she was still surrounded by her friends. But now it looked like he wouldn’t have to. She’d just returned from the restroom to her table alone, looking longingly out on the dance floor. A young woman who needed to have some fun…and Blake was the perfect partner in crime.

Glancing down at the napkin in his hand, he grinned. Now he had an interesting opening to approach her.

Blake crossed over to the table and paused beside Madison’s chair. She glanced up, then did the double take he was used to. Her eyes widened as she got a good look at him, though she quickly tried to mask her reaction. He’d never been uncomfortable knowing he’d dressed to impress—but for some reason he was tonight; it made him feel like a used car salesman.

“Hello,” he said simply.

“Hi there.” Her smile wasn’t quite firm at the edges.

Then she glanced around as if he surely must be looking for someone else. But he wasn’t. Blake knew exactly who he was meeting tonight.

Slowly he slid the napkin in front of her on the table and gave her a moment to get a good look. Her brows went up, then she leaned in for a closer look. Step One accomplished.

He’d made a sketch of her on the white scrap. Her face was in profile, and dead accurate, though the drawing lacked the vibrant color of her auburn hair and the multihued strings of lights decorating the large room.

He pitched his voice slightly louder to be heard over the music. “A woman this beautiful shouldn’t be sitting on the sidelines.”

The muscles in her throat worked as if she had to swallow a couple of times before she answered. “Is that a remark about my physical appearance or your artistic prowess?”

“Both?” he answered, surprised at her response. Most women would have gushed over the gift or been flattered by his remarks. He’d never been questioned over a drawing before.

Despite that, she rubbed her finger over the edges of the sketch. Finally she looked up with a small smile that seemed genuine. “How long did it take you to draw this?”

He shrugged. “About five minutes.”

“At least you aren’t too invested as a stalker,” she said, raising a single brow as if in challenge.

Blake was shocked enough to laugh. Definitely not what he’d expected. Neither was her voice. On the deep side, slightly husky, it evoked images of mystery and sex. The opposite of her young, bright presence.

She ducked her face down for a moment, before glancing up at him through thick lashes. “I probably wasn’t supposed to say that out loud.”

“Definitely not.” But she could keep talking all she wanted.

“I knew I’d never fit in here.”

On their surface, the words could be taken as if she were teasing, just making polite conversation, but the way she worried her bottom lip with the edge of her teeth told him otherwise. “First time?” he asked.

She nodded, causing the colored lights to reflect off the glorious red of her hair. Blake had the sudden urge to see it down around her shoulders, rather than pulled back from the heart shape of her face. His lips suddenly felt dry. “Me, too,” he murmured.

To his surprise, she leaned a little closer. “So you’re not from around here?”

“Yes—” Suddenly the music cut out, making Blake’s voice sound loud. “Yes, I am from here, but it’s been a while. Care to be new together?”

Again her teeth pressed against the fullness of her lower lip, causing blood to rush into the curve as she released it. “My friends will be back soon.”

Blake ignored the subtle rejection. “Good, then they can watch me not stalk you on the dance floor.”

Suddenly the music started up again, this time with an exuberant trumpet player in the lead.

He moved in closer to make himself heard. Leaning toward her ear, he asked, “Would you like to dance?”

Her breath caught, trapped inside her throat as she swallowed once more. Then her body gave a quick shiver, though it was far from cold in the room. Blake should be grateful for her reaction, this confirmation that she wasn’t immune to him, but instead he felt a strange mixture of grim determination and melting heat low in his belly. Did she feel the same attraction as he found trickling through his unprepared consciousness?

Madison’s gaze swung longingly toward the dance floor. Until now, the lively sound of jazz tunes had filled the air all night but she hadn’t once approached the dance floor.

“Well, I don’t think so.”

To his shock, she pulled back a couple of inches. “What’s the matter? Part of coming to a dance party is to dance.”

“I think people come to parties for a lot of different reasons,” she said, glancing down as she ran her finger over the edge of the drawing once more. “To socialize, to drink, to eat, to be seen…” She paused, and he swore he saw a flush creep over her cheeks, even in the dim light.

A woman who still blushed? Blake couldn’t remember the last time he’d dealt with one of those. Before he could confirm it, she glanced the other way. Maybe to look for her friends? Maybe to hide the evidence?

He wasn’t sure, but part of him, the part that had been watching her tonight, wanted to know for sure. In fact, the more he watched, the more he wanted to know. And that interest made him even more uncomfortable with what he was doing here tonight.

“I’m Blake Boudreaux, by the way,” he said.

To his relief, no recognition showed in her expression.

“I’m Madison.” She seemed to relax a little before she asked, “Did you move away for work?”

Oh, she was gonna make him earn that dance, wasn’t she? “More like life management.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. Leaving allowed me to have a life.” He softened his unexpected answer with as charming a grin as he could muster.

Madison cocked her head to the side, awakening an urge to kiss her delicate chin. He straightened just a little. “I’m just visiting long enough to handle a family issue.”

She nodded, the move containing an odd wisdom considering her youth. “Those aren’t easy.”

“Never, but they are the reason we drink and have fun.”

The laugh that came from her surprised him. No giggles for this girl. Instead she gave a full-bodied laugh that made tingles run down his spine. She didn’t try to hide her enjoyment of his little joke or keep her response polite.

“So how about that dance?”

Suddenly a strange look came across her face—a combination of surprise and panic and almost fear. This time her retreat was obvious. Blake sat stunned as she mumbled, “I… I don’t think that’s a good idea. I mean…” She waved her hand in front of her as if to erase her response but inadvertently bumped her drink and knocked it over.

“Oh, my. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Blake wasn’t sure why, but he reached out to grasp her hands in his. “It’s okay, Madison.”

She started to smile, but then her face contorted and she jerked her hands away. “Good night,” she said, then turned on her heel and ran into the crowd.

Blake stared for a moment in confusion. They’d seemed to be having a good time. She wasn’t as comfortable with men coming up to her as he’d expected, but she hadn’t shown any signs of hating him during the conversation. What had gone wrong? This was not at all how he’d expected tonight to turn out. But then again, not much about Madison had turned out how he’d expected.

Honestly, this hadn’t happened since he’d passed his eighteenth birthday, and he had no idea how to handle it. Something had spooked her. Should he leave it for tonight and try to find another way in?

Thoughts of Abigail and what might happen to her in the amount of time it might take him to find another opening into Madison’s life had his heart pounding hard in his chest. He clenched his fists. He would not let her down.

Reaching out, he righted the now-empty wine glass. The small amount of liquid that had been inside had already been absorbed by the tablecloth. Next to the stain lay the napkin with Madison’s sketch on it and a small lavender bag.

A bag? As the realization hit that it must be Madison’s, so did a renewed sense of purpose. A one-night stand might not be an option, but at least he could arrange a date? It would afford him a chance to impress her and possibly find another way into her house to do some digging.

Plunging into the crowd, Blake didn’t give himself time to think or plan. Halfway across the room he saw Madison and her friends near the door, speaking to the hosts as if they were about to leave. Adrenaline quickened his step as he realized his window of opportunity was closing.

The opportunity to find the diamond and save his sister. To understand more about the unusual woman with her emerald green eyes. To explore the strange feelings she called up inside of him.

Blake called out her name when she and her friends were just steps from vanishing through the door into the warm Southern night.

“Madison.”

She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes widening as she saw him. She turned back to her friends, but Blake wasn’t going to let that stop him. He stepped into the circle without an invitation.

“Madison, I believe this is yours.” He held out the lavender bag.

“Oh, yes.” She frowned as she looked at the offering. “Yes, I’m so sorry—”

“I thought you might need it,” he said, cutting off her words, which seemed to just compound her awkwardness.

“Thank you so much.”

He glanced at the couple standing with them, but the woman simply gave a composed smile. “We’ll meet you at the car, Madison,” she said and they turned to leave.

Madison took the bag from his outstretched hand, then fiddled with the strap for a moment. “I really do appreciate this,” she murmured.

Luckily, they were far enough away from the dance floor that he could hear her. “Look, Madison. I think maybe I came on too strong back there.”

“No. No, it wasn’t you. It’s me. I’m just not used to—” She waved her hand around them. “Please don’t think you did anything wrong.”

He could almost feel her need to leave as the feeling came over her. Something about her body language told him she was ready to run. He couldn’t let that happen.

“Tell you what, how about you make it up to me?”

Her gaze flicked up to his, and he gave her a teasing smile. “Or rather, how can I get a second chance…an opportunity to get to know you when I don’t have to yell to be heard?”

Her muscles relaxed and she smiled, just a little. Why did that smile feel like a big victory?

So let’s try this again… “Where can I pick you up?”

“Why in the world did I agree to this?”

Madison looked around at the array of clothes that she’d brought over to try on for Trinity. Never in her life had she done this. She’d never been the girl to worry over what she wore or what her makeup looked like or how other people perceived her outward physical appearance. Because her life didn’t have anything to do with that.

It was about helping others and doing what needed to be done for her daddy. Not clothes and shoes. Her daddy had never cared about any of those things. And neither had Trinity. It was easier to do their job in jeans or yoga pants.

Even her mother’s journals provided no blueprint for how to date. Madison had found them oddly lacking in information from before her marriage. There were a few comments about a happy childhood but nothing about dating or her engagement.

Right now, it was easier to focus on clothes than to wonder whether she could sit across from a man as suave and charismatic as Blake Boudreaux and be comfortable and happy and…have fun?

The women at Maison de Jardin were grateful for a helping hand and a friend. That was what made Madison feel fulfilled.

Wasn’t it? She had to admit to an unfamiliar restlessness since her daddy had died six months ago. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy helping people. But there was an aching need for something a little more. Something only hinted at on the nights she sang at a local nightclub—a hobby that she could indulge now that her father was gone. The pure enjoyment of losing herself in things that didn’t require her to meet someone else’s needs. That didn’t require her to work, to figure out how to fix things. She’d been doing that stuff all her life.

Maybe it was the extra space in her life now that her last living relative was gone. Maybe it was her age, and the realization that most young women were starting to settle down or already had by now. Maybe it was just a quirk of her overactive imagination. But for once, she simply needed enjoyment without any responsibility attached.

Would she find that with Blake? Everything about that man made her nervous and excited and tingly in ways she’d never felt before. He made her feel emotions that weren’t exactly comfortable enough to be called fun. He made her feel too much. Especially when he moved in close, smelling spicy and exuding heat.

Just thinking about it made her heart thud hard against her ribs.

She hadn’t imagined two people could have that much chemistry outside of a bedroom. He made her think of magic and sin and heat all mixed together in the air. Incredible.

Which only made her more awkward, more anxious than she’d ever felt. Her life was built on a definition of success that had become uniquely hers through the years. Not money or fancy cars or expensive clothes, but days and hours and moments of achievement through sheer determination, hard work and action. Not this uncertainty that made her feel paralyzed.

“What am I doing, Trinity?” she asked, unable to resist nibbling at the inside of her lower lip. “Why did I say yes to this?”

But she knew why. It had been a combination of that tingly excitement and the fact that he’d tracked her down and given her purse back. She’d hastily surrendered her phone number, then rushed out the door with burning cheeks and butterflies in her stomach.

“Everything will be fine,” her friend assured her. “Did he tell you what y’all were gonna do?”

“No,” Madison huffed. “He said he wanted it to be a surprise. All I have is an address and that’s about it.”

“Which I know is driving you crazy. You’re nothing if not prepared.”

Trinity knew her too well. “The mystery should be perfect. It should help me step out of my comfort zone. Instead—” Madison pressed her fist against her stomach.

“I know, love.” Trinity gave her a quick hug. “What’s the address?”

Madison picked up her phone to review Blake’s texts. “Looks like it’s somewhere down near the river.”

“Well, meeting him there is a smart move.” Trinity’s lips twisted in a small grimace, confirming Madison’s belief that she needed to keep her own vehicle nearby. Better to take precautions and be safe than sorry later. “I guess working in this place makes me extra cautious.”

Me, too. Madison had tried to be a modern woman—also something she didn’t have a lot of experience in—assuring Blake she could get herself where they were going. After all, what did she really know about him besides chemistry? Except now the lack of information made her feel even more ill-prepared for the night ahead.

The array of clothes before her included a relatively small number of articles from her own closet and a few she’d just spent a meager part of her salary on at an upscale secondhand store. “So we’ll be near the river, right?” she asked herself more than Trinity. With an impatient sigh, she grabbed a new pair of jean shorts and a casual blouse and forced herself to dress without thinking any more about how she looked.

Trinity offered an understanding smile. “If you need anything, keep your cell phone on you. I’ll come get you if you call. No matter what time.”

“I will,” Madison said as she tried to breathe through her nerves.

“Text me anyway when you get there so I know everything is okay.”

This time Madison smiled. “Yes, Mama.”

But she was very grateful for Trinity’s offer when she arrived at the address and found herself near a marina. She walked along the worn planks of the dock until she found Blake waiting for her halfway down. Next to him in the slip was a very smooth, very elegant boat.

Embarrassed heat washed over her immediately. Only sheer determination kept her feet walking toward him. He was dressed in a designer polo and dress pants, standing next to the nicest boat she’d ever seen—even on television. She tugged down on the hem of her shirt, wishing she’d opted for a summer dress at the very least.

What the heck was she doing here? she asked herself for the bazillionth time that evening.

Blake didn’t seem to notice. “Good evening,” he said smoothly.

Madison drew her gaze away from the craft, realizing her mouth had dropped open…just a little. But all that gleaming chrome sure was pretty…and way above her pay grade.

“I’m glad to see you made it,” Blake said, as if he hadn’t noticed her gawking.

Madison could barely meet his eyes. This wasn’t a situation she knew how to handle or fix or arrange. What should she say? Nice boat? Was it even called that? Or was it a small yacht? Ugh. “I’ll admit, I almost backed out.” Dang it. Why did she say that?

But Blake chuckled. “I guess I understand. After all, I’m practically a stranger. Though why you wouldn’t want to spend the evening with someone as heroic as me…”

“Heroic?”

With a sheepish grin, he offered a hand to steady her as she stepped onto the craft. “I did return a missing purse.”

“That hardly qualifies,” she scoffed.

“A guy can hope, right?”

She raised a brow at his begging puppy dog expression, then forced herself to glance around the boat. “The question is, can you pilot this thing without breaking it?”

“You’d be surprised how smooth she is in the water. A captain’s dream.”

Something about the way he said the words sent a tingle along her spine. The good kind…not the afraid-he’s-a-serial-killer kind. To distract herself, she hurriedly took a picture of the boat’s name on the prow and texted it to Trinity, much to his bemusement. Even though Blake didn’t give her any creepy vibes, she wasn’t taking any chances…and he needed to know that.

“A girl can’t be too careful,” she said with a shrug. “After all, if you are secretly a serial killer and I disappear tonight, at least my friends will know where to start looking.”

His shocked expression made her laugh. Normally, Madison never censored herself when it came to laughter. There’d been too many sad times in her life for her not to cherish every happy moment. But here, on this beautiful boat with a beautiful man, her full-bodied laugh suddenly seemed loud, obnoxious. She quickly smothered it.

“That’s actually pretty smart.”

To her surprise, he didn’t seem offended that she might think he was dangerous. She hoped that proved he could handle the quirks that made Madison who she was. Not that she should care. She should have the attitude that if he didn’t like her, she could easily walk away.

This was about fun. Not relationships or happily-ever-afters.

So why did her hand in his feel much more important than that?

Blake had clearly spared no expense when it came to tonight. The boat itself was brand-new, with a lot of bells and whistles from what she could tell. It had a large deck, covered access below and several leather-upholstered chairs in the upstairs driving area. It was the on-water equivalent of a luxury car.

Blake cast off, then joined her in the chairs up front. Now it was just the two of them. Maybe she should be happy that there wasn’t a captain to navigate and watch their every move all night. She wasn’t actually sure if that would have made her happy or not.

Only twenty minutes into this date and settling down seemed impossible. Blake guided the boat smoothly out of the slip and down the channel to where the shore spread out before them. The boat practically glided on the glassy surface.

At this time of year, the breeze at night was cool and comforting, a relief from the midday heat. A recent rain had lowered the humidity, though Madison knew from experience that in a couple weeks it would be uncomfortable no matter what time of day without a breeze and a cold drink.

That was life in the South.

Blake picked up speed as they gained open water, which was when the first bit of uneasiness hit Madison’s stomach. Her focus turned inward as she tried to figure out the source. Maybe her nerves? After all, she had experienced plenty of anxiety over the past few days. No, this was something else. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

The queasiness rose with each passing minute, forcing Madison to swallow once or twice. She tried to concentrate on the feel of the wind on her skin, praying that the feeling would pass. Of all the things she’d anticipated tonight, feeling sick was not one.

Blake slowed, then stopped the boat out in the middle of the glassy gray water. The wake rocked the boat, sparking a quick surge of nausea. Madison breathed in deeply, then let it out slowly. Maybe she’d be better now that the boat had stopped.

Blake smiled over at her. “Good?”

She nodded with what was hopefully a steady smile. The last thing she wanted was a double helping of embarrassment tonight.

“I’ll set up dinner then.”

Madison didn’t move as Blake made his way to the back. At the press of a button, a portion of the deck floor retracted and a table rose out of the depths. Well. She guessed they wouldn’t be eating off paper plates from their laps, would they?

She didn’t have a lot of experience eating outdoors with formal silverware. More like fast-food wrappers and brown paper napkins.

Madison turned back toward the front of the boat, pretending to be absorbed in the view of the water. But her stomach continued to churn. What should she do?

Ask to go back? The thought of that trip had bile backing up into her throat. She definitely couldn’t eat right now. So she simply breathed and prayed whatever this was would go away.

To her relief, the unease in her stomach subsided. She gave herself another minute, then two, but the ticking clock in her head told her he would start to wonder what was going on if she kept delaying. Finally Madison stood to make her way to the back of the boat. The world seemed to tilt as she walked, even though she could swear the boat wasn’t rocking. What was wrong with her?

“I’m about ready,” Blake said as she approached. Then he looked up from his task. “Are you okay?”

She tried to smile. She really did. Then she glanced down at the table and saw an open container of what appeared to be chicken or crab salad. Two seconds later, she was hanging over the edge of the boat to empty her stomach.