April Fool Bride (2 page)

Back then, he'd been confused. Too much beer
after high school graduation would do that to a guy. When he'd
realized it was Maddie in his bed--Maddie, the girl he'd thought of
as a kid sister--he'd jumped as if someone had thrown ice water on
him. Her awkward attempt at seduction had catapulted her out of the
little sister category forever.

Jake hurried into the bathroom and took care
of his needs then grabbed some clothes from the closet. He was a
pragmatist not given to dwelling on the past, but that particular
memory haunted him. Oddly, that memory of Maddie, her voice--her
sweetness--had got him through one of the toughest times of his
life.

That night nine years ago, he'd been barely
eighteen to her fifteen. That night, he'd been full of grand plans
for his future with a full-ride scholarship to Rice University in
Houston paving his way. He had goals, dreams, and a determination
to build a better life for himself and his mother who had worked as
a housekeeper to provide a roof over his head after his dad had
been killed in a car wreck years before. He'd had everything
planned.

When he'd realized that Maddie was the girl
in his bed, he was trying to make sense of the situation when the
lights in his room had flashed on. Constance Quinn towered above
the bed, her face white with rage. She'd wrenched Maddie from his
bed and had shaken her like a rag doll, shrieking as Maddie cowered
before her. Deep wrenching sobs shook Maddie's slender frame. Clad
only in white cotton panties and a camisole, she'd tried to cover
her small breasts with her folded arms, her shoulders bowed as if
she wanted to curl in upon herself.

Even in his beer-befuddled state, he hadn't
liked the way Constance was treating Maddie. He'd stripped the
blanket from his bed and wrapped it around her, making soothing
sounds to comfort her.

Constance had shoved him away and pushed
Maddie from the room. Then she'd slammed the door and turned her
rage on him. He remembered being thankful that his mom had still
been at Aunt Esther's home that evening. What happened next had
killed his dreams and changed his life. His hands fisted. The
bitter memories still had the power to anger him. He'd been
powerless. His mother's employer had been all-powerful, holding his
mother's income and the roof over her head--his head too--in her
lily-white hands. He remembered being surprised that she hadn't
slung racial insults at him based on his Hispanic heritage.

Jake pulled on a pair of Levis, shoved his
feet into an old pair of running shoes, and grabbed a worn gray
Rice University sweatshirt. He hadn't seen Maddie since that night
when she'd caused him to lose everything. It had taken a long time
and a lot of hard work for him to make his dreams come true. He
thought his anger had faded, but maybe he'd been fooling
himself.

Over the years, his mom kept him informed
about what was happening in Maddie's life. Eventually, he'd told
his mom what had transpired that night. He'd even told her that he
didn't give a damn about Maddie Quinn, but that didn't stop
Graciella Becker from passing on news of Maddie.

By the time Maddie graduated from college, he
didn't need his mother to tell him what the girl was up to. Every
tabloid on the planet told of the "sexcapades" of Mad Maddie, the
Houston oil heiress. After college, she'd taken to the trust fund
babe lifestyle like a duck to water.

Her first engagement, a total disaster to an
obvious fortune hunter, lasted less time than Jake's first three
months in Afghanistan. Her second engagement was over by the time
the tabloids wrote about it. Jake's mouth tightened as he
remembered the pictures in those papers. If they gave trophies for
the heiress most likely to appear without underwear, Maddie would
have been the sure bet to win.

When she'd been pulled over for driving under
the influence, he'd been in a hospital, recovering from the
firefight that had killed his best friend. He'd drifted in and out
the first couple of days. Oddly enough, he'd dreamed of Maddie. Her
soft, husky voice soothed him. He could swear he felt her hands
caressing his forehead, smoothing his hair. He'd dreamed of her
pressing against him, restoring him. Afterwards, he'd decided that
pain meds were amazing hallucinogens capable of making you think
just about anything.

After Maddie's DUI, his mom never mentioned
her again. He guessed that she'd finally realized the truth. The
girl she'd mothered was just a bimbo with too much money and too
much time on her hands.

As for Jake, the memory of that night had
been the fuel that propelled him to where he was now, if only to
show Constance Quinn that she was wrong about him. He'd had
fantasies of buying out all the Quinn Energy stock if it ever went
public, but that's all they were--fantasies. His journey hadn't
been easy. He'd worked three jobs and taken college classes
whenever he could, eventually getting his degree in finance.

Damn. He needed coffee. It was too early to
be jogging down that particular memory lane. He slammed the door
shut on the past and headed for the kitchen.

A soft tap on his front door stopped him.
With a muttered oath, he opened the door. Maddie stood with her
gloved right hand upraised to knock. Her left hand pulled at a long
blue scarf. The scarf came free, and her red-gold hair--more red
than gold--tumbled down past her shoulders. Her green eyes, wide
with surprise, met his gaze. Her heart-shaped face no longer
radiated naiveté. Like a punch in the gut, he wondered if it was
because her full lips, painted with sinfully red lipstick,
disavowed any trace of innocence.

She bore no resemblance to the too-thin wild
child with the too-short, too-curly red hair, and diffident manner.
His body stirred as he looked at her pouting crimson lips. Knowing
her past, he could only imagine how talented that mouth must now
be. Unwelcome desire kicked him in the gut. Actually, the kick was
farther south. He wasn't just surprised by his body's reaction, he
was shocked. He didn't want to be excited by the woman whose
impetuosity had paved his road to ruin. "What do you want,
Maddie?"

Immediately, he noticed that her green eyes
no longer revealed every thought that flitted through her brain. In
fact, her eyes revealed nothing.

"Hello, Jake. Could I come in please?"

Her voice affected him like a caress. He was
glad of the baggy sweatshirt that hid his rising interest. He might
not be able to control his body's elemental response to her, but
that didn't mean he had to act on the unwanted desire she stirred
in him. He was old enough, and controlled enough, not to let his
little brain do his thinking for him. Wasn't he?

Jake hardened his heart to compensate for the
effect she had on him. He held the door wide and made a mocking
bow. "Be my guest."

Maddie flinched at his sarcasm. She'd thought
she was prepared for him. She wasn't. But she entered his apartment
anyway.

New York in March might be cold, but the
outside temperature couldn't compare to the frigid expression in
Jake's midnight blue eyes. She used to moon over his beautiful
eyes. Graciella said his eyes were like his father's. Jake's eyes
had always made her think of the deepest part of the ocean. They
still reminded her of the ocean. Like the one around Antarctica. No
warmth or friendliness shone in their dark blue depths.

Jake shut the door behind her. For a moment,
they stared at each other. Then he said, "I was just about to have
coffee. Come to the kitchen."

He turned and walked away, and Maddie hurried
after him, draping the scarf loosely around her neck, pulling off
her gloves and tucking them into the coat pockets.

He was almost twenty-eight now. The years had
brought changes in Jake. All of them good. He'd grown into his
height and was muscled in ways that affected her respiration. She
wanted to ignore the pulse that suddenly beat low in her…She
inhaled sharply and banished
that
thought before it was
formed. She couldn't afford to think about the way he made her
feel. About how her breasts suddenly felt hot. Heavy with need. But
neither could she stop looking at him and appreciating his body.
Broad shoulders. Heavy muscles. Was there anything sexier than snug
jeans on a man's shapely behind? She suspected that if he removed
his shirt, his stomach would have the requisite six-pack.

Too late, she realized her gaze was locked on
his body, and she'd been standing in his kitchen staring at him for
several seconds.

Jake leaned against a black granite counter,
arms folded. His face was alight with amusement as he watched her
take his measure. "Like what you see?"

Maddie wheeled and walked around the kitchen.
"Yes. This is a great kitchen. Do you cook?" Without waiting for a
response, she rushed on. "What a wonderful farm table and chairs."
She stroked a hand over the distressed wood. "I love the rustic
look contrasted against the contemporary walnut cabinets." She
waved a hand at the end wall. "Someone was smart to leave the wall
of exposed brick, and that arrangement of black-framed photographs
is genius."

Jake went about the business of setting the
coffeemaker up. "I assume you're here for some purpose other than
to discuss my decorating skills."

Maddie fell silent as she studied the
photographs. Several showed Jake and other men, all in desert
camouflage fatigues. Another of Jake with his mother was identical
to the one Graciella had on an end table. In another, a beautiful
dark-haired woman laughed as she stood between Jake and another
man. The same brunette beauty laughed up at Jake in a picture with
the Eifel Tower in the background. Jealousy hit Maddie right
between the eyes. Who was she? Someone special?

Maddie looked askance at him, committing
every detail of his appearance to memory. His thick, black hair was
short, not military short, but short like a male model. She wanted
to slide her fingers through the dark strands. She fisted her hands
in her coat pockets.

He needed a shave, but the shadow of a beard
just made him look like a bad boy magnet. He looked as cold and
uncompromising as the black granite countertop. Unfortunately, his
forbidding countenance didn't negate his sex appeal. She knew she
was being stupid, but she couldn't stop thinking about how it would
feel to slide her hands over his skin. To press her body to his.
How pathetic was she to have carried a torch for him for all these
years?

She was older now. She'd had sex. Lots of
sex. She could finally acknowledge that fact without the guilt and
self-derision that once accompanied such a stark truth. How ironic
was it that she'd never made love with the only man she'd ever
really wanted? The one man she still dreamed about. And, if he
agreed to her plan, the one man that she would never have.

The coffeemaker suddenly hissed and wheezed
and the aroma of coffee filled the air. Jake turned his attention
on her. "Take your coat off if you want."

My, his tone was so gracious, Maddie thought
sarcastically. "No. I think I'll keep it."

"Suit yourself." He waved a hand at the
chairs. "Have a seat."

She did. Jake filled two heavy diner-style
mugs and placed one in front of her.

He carried his coffee to the chair across
from her. He blew on the aromatic coffee and sipped. Then he fixed
her with a probing gaze. "Okay, Red. Why are you here?"

Chapter 3

Red. A lump formed in her throat. Jake was
the only one who'd ever called her that. A small smile pulled at
her mouth, and warmth dissipated some of her chill. The old
nickname brought back some of the happiest memories of childhood.
Before she'd ruined everything.

She wished she hadn't come. She should have
just waited until she turned thirty-five when her trust fund would
be hers without any strings attached. She could have a perfectly
fine life with an allowance doled out month after month by the
trustee of her father's estate. Her stepmother Constance. As
distasteful as that was, she could live with it.

The faces of the women and children who were
depending on her rose in her mind. Yes, she could have a fine life,
but what about them? She'd made a promise. She'd worked hard to be
the kind of woman who kept her promises. The kind of woman with
integrity.

"Earth to Maddie?"

Startled, Maddie looked up, into his dark
blue eyes. Rational and calm, she reminded herself. "Sorry. I was
lost in thought for a moment."

Jake sipped his coffee and waited.

"In the photograph of you in Paris, who's the
woman?" Maddie asked.

Jake smiled. "She's none of your
business."

Maddie blushed. She shouldn't have given in
to her curiosity. Was the woman his lover? Jake had always had
girls chasing him. She should have known that it wouldn't be any
different now that he was a man. If anything he was more appealing
than ever. Or maybe it was that she was now a woman and saw him
with a woman's eyes instead of the eyes of a teenage girl desperate
to give him all the love her lonely heart possessed. She had no
right to be jealous, but that didn't make the envy vanish. If he
was involved, that could complicate matters. But wouldn't Graciella
have said something if Jake wasn't available?

Jake drummed his fingers on the table. "I've
got a busy day planned. If you've got something on your mind other
than talking about the good old days, then get to it."

The scorn in his voice brought her crashing
back. "Right. I have something I'd like to discuss with you." The
good old days. To her, they had been good when she was with him.
She'd been fourteen when she'd fallen in love with him that rainy
afternoon. She'd been weeping. Jake had held her. Her father had
died the month before, and she'd learned that Constance planned to
ship her to boarding school. No one in the world cared about her
except for Jake and Graciella, and now she was to be ripped from
them. She'd made Jake promise that he would always be her
friend.