Mad About the Man (24 page)

His jaw clenched. “Why can't you forgive me? Why won't you give me another chance?”

She met his eyes. “Your wife is waiting for you.”

“Soon-to-be ex-wife.”

“Yes, of course. Good-bye, Maddox.”

And as she turned, she felt the finality of their parting.

Was he right? Was she being too hardheaded, unwilling to forgive him and take another chance on having a future with him? Or was she doing the smart thing and walking away before she made a fool of herself yet again?

For a second, she nearly turned back, wanting to run headlong into his arms. Instead, she squared her shoulders, gripped her bag tighter, and walked toward the courtroom doors. Once through, she went faster and faster, leaving Ellen Kilkenny and her curious eyes behind, until she was free to run.

Free to run away.

*   *   *

Later than evening, Brie sat on her sofa, a TV drama on that she wasn't really watching as she ate Chinese takeout from the carton.

So much for a celebration dinner.

But after returning to the office, she hadn't been able to make herself stay for the party already under way. It wasn't every day the firm helped fend off a multimillion-dollar suit; one of the senior partners was already talking about an extra bonus for her.

She ought to have been thrilled. This win cemented her place in the firm and would be a big boost for her career. Instead she felt . . . well, honestly, she didn't want to think about how she really felt or she might start crying.

Plunging the chopsticks into the carton, she ate another mouthful of noodles and shrimp.

Her phone rang.

She looked at the time, nearly ten. Then she saw who was calling.

“Hey, James.”

“Hi, Brie, sorry to call so late.”

“No problem. What's up?”

Silence fell. “Brie, it's Caroline. She's not doing well. If you want to see her, you'd better come. Tonight.”

“I'll be right there.”

“I'll send a car to drive you up.”

T
he air blew icy and damp, the ground brittle with late-winter cold beneath the shoes of the mourners.

Brie listened numbly, huddled in her black wool coat as the minister recited last words over Caroline's grave.

The entire family and a few close friends were gathered to pay their final respects. P.G. looked white and half-dead; his eyes, always so lively, were blank now, as if some essential part of him was being buried with his wife. But enough of him remained that he was still there for his children—their children—his and Caroline's. He stood with a hand on each of their small shoulders, Heather's face buried against his side as she cried, a small stuffed cat clutched in her arm. Her brother, older and determined to act like a man, stood dry-eyed. But Brie had been there to watch him sob over his mother's body the morning Caroline had died, his keening a terrible thing to recall.

And then it was done, the words spoken. Each of them moved forward individually to toss a handful of cold earth into the grave on top of the casket. P.G. helped his children with the ritual, then stood unmoving as if he'd forgotten what to do next. His mother came forward to lead him gently away, the children now in the care of their grandfather.

Brie watched their sad figures walk across the cemetery toward the line of waiting cars. Then she started forward as well.

And that's when she saw him, standing at a respectful distance, tall and somber in his dark gray winter coat, silent amid the gravestones.

Madelyn looked over at Maddox as well, her own eyes damp with tears. “Shall we wait for you?”

“No,” Brie said. “Go on to P.G.'s house. I'll be over soon.”

Madelyn nodded, then found Zack and their children and went on their way. James and Ivy moved past, his arm around her for comfort and support as she cried quietly against his shoulder.

Brie approached Maddox, stopped a foot away. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “How did you even know about today?”

“Your assistant. I called your office and Gina told me you were at a family funeral. I knew that Caroline must have passed. Brie, I'm so sorry.”

“Thank you.”

“She was a lovely woman. I wish I'd had the chance to know her better.”

“I wish you had too,” Brie whispered. “She was . . . she was—”

Her throat tightened, grief rising inside her in a sudden rush. She'd held herself together during the service, determined to be strong for her brother, her family. But his words unleashed something and she trembled, tears pooling in her eyes, obscuring her sight.

She began to sob.

His arms wrapped around her, drawing her to his chest. He let her cry, silent and infinitely patient, waiting without expectation until she finally began to quiet. He pressed a couple of clean tissues into her hand, then held her against him again, stroking her hair and back as she slowly pulled herself together.

At length, she sniffed and raised her head. “Sorry.” Her voice was low and hoarse. “I didn't mean to fall apart on you like that.”

Idly, he continued running a hand over her back. “Don't apologize. You needed to get it out. Grief can do terrible things when it's kept locked inside. Feel free to cry some more if you need to.”

She gave him a watery smile and sniffed again. “I think I'm okay now.”

But he didn't release her and she didn't try to move away. Instead, she leaned against him, savoring his warmth and strength, his clean familiar scent, and how good it felt to be in his arms again.

But she had to let him go, didn't she? It would be wrong to give in to this weakness, this awful, aching longing to just let herself be his.

But as she struggled to make herself step away, a crushing grief swept through her again, even worse than before. If she let him go now, she feared it might well be forever. Suddenly she didn't know if she could bear it. In spite of everything he'd done, everything that had gone on between them, she wasn't sure she could live without him anymore.

“Kiss me,” she said, tipping back her head.

His dark eyes widened. “Brie?”

“Kiss me. Please. I need you.”

A light flared in his gaze; then his mouth was on hers, searching softly, slowly, before turning increasingly more demanding, hungry, and heated.

And for Brie, it was like coming home. As if the earth had been out of orbit these past few months and had suddenly slipped back into its proper alignment.

She slid her arms around Maddox and burrowed closer, clinging to him as she met his kisses with a passionate fire that made the cold breezes ruffling their clothes seem balmy.

She wanted him.

She loved him.

Suddenly nothing else seemed to matter but him.

Gradually, they managed to stop, breath as fast and shallow in his lungs as hers.

“Brie.” He brushed kisses over her forehead and across her cheeks, his eyes alive with hope. “Does this mean . . . have you decided to forgive me? To believe me?”

She considered his question. “I'm not sure, but I suppose it must.”

Briefly, he closed his eyes, hugged her tighter. “I swear I'll never give you reason to doubt me again. The divorce . . . I've ironed things out with Ellen and it really is—”

She put her fingers against his lips, silencing him. “Shh, I don't care anymore. I just want to be with you.” Curving her fingers, she stroked them across his cheek. “Do you love me?”

Emotion filled his eyes. “More than my life.”

“Then that's all I care about now. I love you. You love me. That's enough.”

He caught her hand, pressed it to his mouth. “Why the change? The other day, you were so . . . distant. I was afraid I might have lost you for good.”

“You might have, but Caroline's death . . . I've suddenly realized that I've just been wasting time, making both of us miserable with my fear and my stubborn pride. I've remembered something that my brother said a few months ago before he even knew she was dying. He said that every day with her was a blessing, that he cherished each and every moment they had. Suddenly, today, because of her, I've realized that I've been squandering our moments. Our precious time.”

He kissed her again, taking her mouth with a sweet, satisfying reverence that told her, in ways no words could express, the truth of his love. “I'll never deceive you or keep anything from you again,” he murmured. “And despite any lingering reservations you may have, I'm going to marry you, Ms. Grayson.”

“You don't have to, you know.”

He scowled and made a noise that sounded a bit like a growl under his breath. “Of course I do. I can't wait to get a ring on your finger. I want to make sure the whole world knows you're off-limits to anyone but me.”

“I already am. I'm done pushing you away.” She smoothed her fingers over the narrow lapel on his wool coat. “You know, if you do get that divorce, you might not want to jump right back into another marriage so quickly.”

“
When
I get my divorce—and it shouldn't be too much longer now—I'll be there the day the judge signs the divorce decree with a marriage license in one hand and you in the other so we can tie the knot the very same day. As for jumping back in, I've had a decade of feeling divorced, so remarrying is no rush at all.” He pressed his lips to hers. “Our wedding day will be the best day of my life.”

Her heart warmed, the last bits of doubt melting away. She wasn't worried anymore.

Catching his hand, she threaded her fingers with his. “Everyone will be wondering where I am. We'd better go.”

“Are you sure you want me to come along? I don't want to intrude.”

“You're not intruding. You're going to be part of the family soon, so you should be with us, today of all days. Besides, I need you there with me.”

“I'll be right by your side. Always.”

Leaning up on her toes, she crushed her lips to his, suddenly sure that he would be.

“C
an I take the blindfold off yet?” Brie asked three months later as Maddox led her carefully through the airport.

He'd waited until they'd gotten past the last security checkpoint, then stopped to insist that she put on a thick, padded sleep mask, which was unnervingly dark. She'd balked at first, but eventually agreed rather than continue to argue. She worried that otherwise they might miss their flight to wherever it was they were going.

Maddox had refused to tell her their destination; it was a secret. She hadn't even been able to pick up clues from her luggage, since Maddox had been the one to pack her bags.

Actually, he'd pretty much kidnapped her from the office this afternoon with the help of Gina and Trish, who had turned into despicable traitors since she'd gotten back together with Maddox. He had the two other women firmly in his pocket, so they were always happy to aid and abet whatever secret, romantic schemes he dreamed up to delight her with.

And delight her he did, each and every day.

Brie had to admit that in spite of her lingering grief over Caroline's death, which still had the power to hit her hard and without warning, the past few months with Maddox had been some of the best of her life.

She felt guilty at times; she was so happy. There was only one thing that could make her happier, but she knew Maddox and his lawyer were working diligently to finalize his divorce, so she never asked for details. She loved Maddox and trusted him and she vowed to be patient, however long it took.

In the meantime, they were together.

She knew she must look absolutely ridiculous at the moment, shuffling along with a mask over her eyes. On the other hand, it took a lot to surprise New Yorkers, so hopefully that cut the number of curious onlookers down to reasonably acceptable levels.

“Just a little farther.” Maddox kept his arm locked securely around her waist so there was no chance of her falling.

The two of them walked on; then finally he drew her to a stop.

“Are we here?” she asked, her curiosity spiking higher.

“Almost. Just another minute.”

“You've been saying that for the last
ten
minutes.”

“Five. It only feels like it's been ten.” Hands on her shoulders, he turned her, arranging her in the direction he wanted. “Close your eyes.”

“I'm already blind.”

“Close them. Please.”

She huffed out a breath. “Well, since you said ‘please.'”

He removed the mask. “Okay. Look.”

She opened her eyes, blinking to let them adjust to the light. The gate area came into focus; then the sign behind the check-in desk with the flight information.

“Las Vegas? We're going to Vegas?”

“We are.”

“That sounds fun.”

“But why all the buildup, right?” he said, repeating aloud what she'd been thinking.

“Well, it isn't like you're flying me to Tahiti. Or even Hawaii.”

“Those'll come later. First, I wanted us to celebrate this.” Reaching into his jacket, he withdrew a document, folded into thirds. “Read it.”

She took it, recognizing the familiar feel of quality bond paper.

Official paper.
Could it be?

She opened the pages.

“The judge signed the decree only this morning,” Maddox said, his words rich and deep with obvious satisfaction. “I am finally a free man.”

Her eyes widened, seeing the proof of his words before her, complete with notary stamp and judicial seal. “You're divorced.”

“I'm divorced!”

With her heart about to burst from her chest, she let out a war whoop and jumped into his arms. He hugged her tightly, his arms like steel bands as he lifted her off her feet. And then they were kissing with a raw, passionate exuberance and a kind of unfettered joy, oblivious to the eyes of the other passengers around them.

Long before she was ready to stop kissing him, he set her back down. With her head still swimming from an excess of excitement and juiced-up hormones, she saw him take a pair of steps backward.

Then to her astonishment, he dropped onto one knee, an open velvet-covered ring box in his hand. “Gabriella Felicity Grayson, I love you. Will you be my wife?”

All around her, people watched, but the only person she could see was Maddox. The man she loved, and would always love.

“Yes.” She smiled, a tear running down her cheek. “Of course yes!”

He slid the large, beautiful square-cut diamond, which had to be three carats at least, onto her ring finger. Then she was in his arms again, his mouth moving with a blissful sizzle over hers while cheers and claps erupted around them.

The sound of their flight being called broke them apart.

Brie blushed and laughed as they boarded, their fellow passengers continuing to wish them well, a few cracking naughty jokes.

The first-class stewardess brought them glasses of sparkling champagne after they settled into their seats, a wide smile on her face. “Many happy wishes on your engagement. Compliments of the captain and the flight crew.”

They thanked her, waiting as she moved away to kiss again.

“Vegas, huh?” Brie met his eyes, which were gleaming with unvarnished adoration. She was sure her own were twinkling with equal amounts of love, brilliant as her new diamond ring.

“So who would you rather have officiate? Regular minister, Elvis impersonator, or should we just drive through the Little White Chapel?”

“You mean you want to get married tonight?”

“Of course. I told you I was going to make you my wife the minute I legally could. Why else do you think we're flying to Vegas?”

“But the family—no one will be there. Not to mention my mother, who will have ten shades of purple cow over us not having a proper wedding.”

“Do you want a proper wedding?”

She thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. “No, not really. But I don't want to disappoint them. Everyone's been through so much lately.”

“Don't worry. I already told your mother that I planned to whisk you off to the altar.”

“Maddox!”

“She was sad for a minute, then told me to tell you to have the best elopement ever. We'll have a more traditional ceremony in front of our families once we get back. She's already been on the phone to my mother.”

“Good Lord, did everyone know but me?”

“Pretty much.” He grinned, pressed his lips to hers again. “So, what's your pick? Minister, Elvis, or Chapel?”

The engines rumbled beneath them, their seat belts fastened securely as the plane began to taxi.

Brie reached out and stroked her hand over his cheek. “The King, obviously. After all, you're my hunk-a hunk-a burnin' love.”

Maddox laughed and crushed his mouth to hers, claiming her again, heart and soul.

*   *   *

Hours later, he and Brie lay tangled together in the sheets, their naked bodies warm and slightly damp with perspiration.

He filled his lungs and worked to slow his rapid breathing. Brie seemed to be having the same difficulty, panting from their most recent bout of wild lovemaking. Taking her left hand, he threaded her fingers through his, enjoying the way the low lamplight glinted off both of their wedding rings.

Rolling her toward him, he settled her on top of his chest, their bare legs tangling, her breasts pressing against him in the most delicious way. He ran a palm over her spine, leaning up to claim her mouth in a series of slow, sultry kisses.

“Happy?” he asked.

She smiled, her lips curving in a way that never failed to enthrall him. “Ecstatic,” she said.

She slid her tongue along his lower lip. “And you? No regrets? It's not everybody who gets divorced and remarried on the same day.”

“Not the same day. It was after midnight before the King pronounced us”—he lowered his voice, put on his best Elvis impression—“husband a-a-a-nd wife.” He kissed her again. “No regrets. I've been waiting for this day since the moment I knew I loved you.”

“Oh?” She ran a finger along his chest, tangling the tip in the short curls there. “And when was that?”

“The first time or the second time?”

Her eyes turned even bluer. “There's more than one?”

“Definitely.”

“Well, then, what are they?”

“The second time I knew I loved you was last Fourth of July on the beach. I tried to tell myself later that I didn't feel that way, but from that moment on, deep down, I knew I was a goner.”

“And the first time?” she said, her voice so soft it sent shivers through him.

He stroked his palm over her back and hips. She arched beneath his touch like a contented cat. “The first time was when we were kids. The minute I looked at you, the very first time we met, my tongue rolled right back toward my throat and I all but swallowed it, you were so pretty.”

She leaned up, elbows braced against him. “But you were so awful to me. So rude. You hardly said two words.”

“Tongue rolled up—couldn't swallow, remember?”

“Boys. Jeez.” She shook her head, marveling.

Taking her hips in his hands, he rearranged her so he could slide back inside her, his erection having gotten a sudden second wind. “Girls,” he said. “Good thing girls and boys fit together so well when they grow up.”

She quivered around him, inside and out, her eyelids lowering to half-staff. “Yes, a very good thing indeed.”

Cradling her face between his hands, he kissed her. “I loved you then, Brie-Brie. I love you now. You're mine forever.”

“Forever,” she vowed. “As your attorney, I would never allow you to accept anything less.”

Then they sealed their promises in the most pleasurable of ways.