Rise of the Notorious (23 page)

Suddenly, he reached out and pulled her into a tight hug, a disbelieving laugh bubbling from his throat.

“You kicked major ass out there, Mads,” he told her as he stepped back, holding her at arm’s length. His lips were spread in a wide grin as he shook his head. “I wasn’t sure how this was going to go, but you really nailed it.”

She released the breath she had been holding, a smile blooming over her face. “Yes, yes I did.”

Grant approached her and gathered her close, shutting his eyes tight as his heart finally settled down. He’d been so afraid for her, so utterly convinced this would backfire. Time would ultimately tell if it was going to help or hurt the family, but from the looks on the reporters’ faces, he had a feeling Madison had just done the best thing possible.

“You were excellent,” he said as he pulled back, turning then to Linc as his brother piped in.

“Yeah, we should have trusted you. I promise to do so from now on, scout’s honor.” He held his hand up to his forehead in a salute and grinned again.

She couldn’t help but smile in return. He was her charming, loyal-to-the-bone brother, her ray of sunshine in her darkest days. He wouldn’t betray her…and Grant, well, he didn’t have a manipulative bone in his body. He was too direct and blunt for that.

Realizing she had done herself a major disservice for even doubting her brothers for one second, she kissed both of their cheeks in turn.

“No matter what happens, the three of us stick together,” she said, eyeing them earnestly. “I need you, both of you.”

They blinked in surprise, not used to hearing her speak that way. They looked at each other before turning back to her.

Linc reached out to pat her on the shoulder. “We’re family, Mads. We’ll always stay together.”

In the week
that followed, Madison Vasser was the topic of nearly every news outlet. There were a fair share of critics and naysayers, but there were far more supporters. More, in fact, than any of them could have imagined possible just weeks before.

“She’s practically a celebrity,” Quinn grinned, curling up to Grant as they lay in his bed, watching Madison on television as she chatted casually with Jay Leno. “People are fascinated by her. They can’t get enough.”

Grant grunted in agreement, his eyes glued to his sister and his heart feeling lighter than it had in days. It appeared that the press conference had, for reasons he couldn’t quite figure out, completely changed public sentiment about the Vassers. For now, at least, the public was having its love affair with Madison.

And he had to admit, she was nothing if not impressive.

“Look at how she smiles, how she laughs,” Quinn pointed out. “So much control and yet, she seems so at ease, so relatable. I don’t get how she does it.”

“She’s always been good at showing people the face she wants them to see,” Grant told her with a heavy sigh. “I’ve always considered it manipulation, and yet here she is, using it to her advantage in a way I could never do.”

“Every man in that room wants her, and every girl wants to be her.” Quinn laughed, tilting her head and kissing Grant’s cheek. “You should be proud of her.”

“I am,” he confirmed, his eyes still on his sister as she related a story of her childhood to Leno. “But with every rise, there is an inevitable fall.”

Quinn’s smile wavered, and she thought, yet again, about telling him what Lynette’s father had said about the drug dealer. It was difficult to not share it with him, just to see what he would say. Even though she was beginning to have doubts about the validity of the claim herself.

“Such a pessimist,” she joked, trying to hide her uncertainty behind a sunny smile. “We just have to make the inevitable fall a graceful one.”

He frowned at the television, eyes narrowing as he watched a popular singer who had started her own production company walk on stage to sit beside Madison. The woman visibly gushed as she shook his sister’s hand. “Women seem to have a particular fascination with my sister.”

“She’s earned their respect by standing up for herself,” Quinn replied easily. “She’s running a company formerly run by nothing but men, and she’s taking charge of her own destiny. As a fellow woman, I can see a lot to admire in that. We can all learn something from her.”

Grant looked at her, his lips upturning slightly at the corners. “You know, Madison could learn a lot from you, as well.”

She rolled her eyes and grinned. “Please. I’m just me. I talk too much, am way too stubborn, quote my mother to an embarrassing degree, and eat peanut butter out of the jar with a spoon.”

“You’re incredible,” he corrected, tilting her face up so he could kiss her. Her answering laugh was cut off by his mouth claiming hers, and she melted into him, her heart fluttering at his words. He used them so sparingly, and yet when he did it was like magic.

“You know what my mother would say at a time like this?” Quinn said, breaking the kiss and sitting up with wink.

“What?”

“Let’s break out the Cabernet, put on some Dean Martin, and see where the night takes us.” She beamed at him, her eyes glowing with warmth. “Whaddya say?”

He smiled. “Lucky for you, my Martin collection is impeccable.”

In the week
since the press conference, Madison’s schedule went from busy to crowded to hectically on overdrive. Carrie was no longer merely an assistant, but now wore various hats, including agent, promoter, time manager, and stylist.

The hotel experienced a boost in reservations, which put a smile on Grant’s face. The press was, for once, printing positive pieces about the family, which gave Linc a reason to live again. And for the first time since Cyrus’ death, Madison felt as though the rest of her family was actually on her side. At least, they were pretending to be.

She still had yet to determine who had leaked her secret to the press, but with all of the interviews, appointments, lunches, functions, and overall busy romance with the public, she was too tired to think about it. She kept the thought at the back of her mind, to be re-visited the second she could catch her breath.

As it was, she only planned to engage in this revelry for one more week. She was running up against the deadline she had set for the company to take its first steps toward corporatizing, and she couldn’t let anything get in the way of that.

And, if she was being honest with herself, she was already sick of it. While she played the part of the admired, relatable, and brazen hotel heiress well, she still had a job to do. Her family was counting on her to get the company back on track and she had no intention of failing.

With the added boost in popularity, hopefully things would run much smoother from here on out. The “inside source” that Shaw and the papers had credited for the previous accusations had gone mysteriously silent, which meant either they had no further tricks up their sleeves or they were biding their time for something even more detrimental.

What that could be, she had no idea. But if and when it happened, she vowed to be ready for it.

Now that her face and name were gaining notoriety, people began to take a fascination with her love life. The simple fact that they called what she had a “love life” amused the hell out of her.

She preferred to call it a dangerous, slippery jaunt through a field of prickly roses, both beautiful and deadly, with plenty of razor sharp thorns along the way. It was an experiment in madness, and she was well aware that she was going against every ounce of common sense she had to pursue it.

But, as with most things of a darker, more sinful nature, the pleasure she received was well worth the risks.

She stared at a picture of herself with Wyatt in one of the tabloids, exiting the hotel on their way to dinner two nights earlier. The slim, gold dress she wore caught the light of the flashing cameras, and a seductive half smile softened her face. Beside her, dressed in a casual black suit paired with his fedora, was Wyatt. The hat shielded his eyes as he tipped his head down, but the light stubble that graced his jawline and the subtle, arrogant curve of his mouth spoke of the kind of man he was.

The worst kind of bastard. The one you can’t help but love.

“What a headline,” Wyatt murmured from behind her, his hands expertly kneading her shoulders. “
The Inside Scoop on the Man Behind the Brazen Vasser Hotel Heiress.
”

“I think they love you more than me,” Madison mused, flipping through the magazine to find the article. When she did, her eyes scanned the words and images, amused by the other shots of both her and Wyatt together. There was the usual wedding speculation, including date, location, and honeymoon spot. Why anyone gave a damn if and when she got married she didn't understand, but then again, such was life in the public eye.

She read over the short biography put together on Wyatt and paused when she saw the word Kansas, along with the name of the high school he attended. Her eyes narrowed as she tilted her head back to look at him. “You didn’t live in Kansas.”

He smiled cagily, squeezing her shoulders once before lifting the magazine from her hands. He read the piece himself, then tossed it back on her desk with a shrug. “After my mom died, I left Maine and lived with my aunt for a couple years in Kansas. The second I hit eighteen, I was gone.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“You never asked.” He brushed it off, not wanting to talk about his past with her. It wasn’t something he was exactly proud of. “What does it matter?”

She only watched him quietly, assessing his discomfort. He’d closed up on her like a steel trap, guarding some dragon he didn’t want her to see. It reminded her, yet again, that he was just as much a man of secrets now as he had been all those years before.

“How am I supposed to trust you when I don’t even know you?” she asked heatedly, rising to her feet to get in his face. She tilted her head to the side as she looked up at him, fire in her eyes. “You might as well be a stranger to me, Wyatt. You keep more secrets from me than you share.”

“Don’t act like you don’t have secrets you keep from me, sweetheart,” he shot back with a cold grin. On impulse, he grabbed her wrist, lifting it so he could look at the tattoo that marred her skin. “Like this one. You’ve never told me what it means.”

She let out a long, slow exhale, her blood quickening beneath her skin as her eyes met his and held. She hated knowing he was right.

“It symbolizes the age I was when my grandfather entrusted me with his secrets,” she told him, her voice flavored with both heartache and temper. “And you never asked.”

Dark humor flashed over his face as he pulled her tight against him, his mouth teasing hers. He smiled, his teeth nipping at her lower lip. “We always were two of a kind.”

“God, we’re vain,” she moaned, her hands reaching up to take hold of his length of bronze hair.

“Not vain…we’re infamous,” Wyatt growled, lifting her roughly by her hips onto the desk and crushing her mouth with his. Before he could tear her clothes off, there was a quick, rapping knock on the door before it was shoved open.

“Hey, Mads, I—” Linc waltzed in, a bottle of champagne in his hand and Lynette close behind him. He froze, then covered his eyes with a groan. “Really, guys?”

Lynette burst into giggles behind him and had to cover her mouth while Carrie peered in from her desk curiously. Wyatt only grinned and backed away from Madison, holding his hand out to help her back onto her feet. He then walked over to Linc and patted him cheerfully on the back.