Rise of the Notorious (46 page)

When the world heard the word hotel, she was going to make damn sure they thought the name Vasser.

Her car pulled up in front of her town house, and she spotted Wyatt waiting on the front steps.

“Didn’t I give you a key?” she asked teasingly as she slipped from the car, eyes lit with triumph. She ascended the steps and went straight into his arms.

“You must have forgotten my key while you were busy slaying dragons and taking on the world,” Wyatt murmured, holding her close. He reveled in the warm feel of her body and the soft, quiet way she sighed.

“We still have things to settle,” Madison reminded him as she pulled away, a strange mix of sadness and frustration on her face. “I have a bottle of Pinot Noir inside. Why don’t you open it while I change into something more comfortable? Then we can talk.”

He nodded, saying nothing as she opened the door to her home and welcomed him inside. She pointed in the direction of the kitchen, where he spotted her wine rack filled with bottles. Then she disappeared into her bedroom and left him alone.

The silence of her town house hung heavy with some kind of strange finality. He wondered over it as he opened the wine, his eyes taking in her rich black and scarlet furnishings, seeing so much of her in the things she surrounded herself with.

Things both modern and antique, chicly sophisticated yet classically timeless. It spoke as much about her as her own personality and actions did.

And Lord, did that woman’s actions speak louder than any words.

He let out a heavy sigh as he reached for two glasses and carried them and the wine over to her coffee table. He lit a fire in her fireplace, then settled onto her sofa.

She knew the truth now, all of it. Why he had left her, why he couldn’t tell her all these years. Now the big question was, could she ever fully forgive him for it?

Not that it mattered. He had no intention of letting her shut him out of her life. He wasn’t going back to the way things were. In fact, he would never set foot in Maine again if it meant she might shut her doors for good.

No, he was staying right where he was. If she could be a thousand ton rock, then he could be the immovable mountain. If her temper and righteousness erupted in his face like a brutal volcano, then he would just have to combat her like the fiercest, wildest tornado. And if her frustration and sorrow pooled at his feet like the cold sea foam waves of the ocean, then he would have to lift her up on his boat and guide her back to dry land.

They were made for each other; two pieces of this perfect puzzle that had for too long been broken by greed, deceit, ignorance, and pride. It was time they forfeited all of that and let themselves be free.

He looked up as Madison came into the room, body dipped in a silk nightgown the color of almonds. The rich brown of it was just shades lighter than her hair, and it shifted seductively over her slender body as she sat beside him and reached for her wine.

Her eyes met his as she took the first sip.

“You know, I have hated you for longer than I have loved you,” she mused, a hint of regret in her voice. “I used to envision the ways I was going to make you pay if I ever saw your face again. Imagine my surprise when you actually showed up at my office, all rugged and cocky, just like you had been then.” She paused, measuring him quietly. “But there was something different about you. Time had done a number on your spirit, but I let my hate get in the way of actually seeing you. Until you forced my eyes open and demanded I look at you for the first time in eight years.”

“I don’t regret my choices,” Wyatt informed her easily, knowing it was true. “I did what was best for you, sweetheart.”

She arched one sculpted brow curiously. “Isn’t it odd how what’s best for us tends to hurt the worst?”

His mouth twisted into a half smile. “I never stopped thinking about you. The few times I met up with Linc, it took all I had to not ask him about you, to not find out if you were okay. I wanted you to be happy, to know that my decision, while it had destroyed me, had in fact benefited you. I can honestly say that it has.”

Confused anger came over her eyes. “Has it?”

He reached out to lift up her chin, to admire her face in the soft glow of the fireplace. “Just look at you, Madison. You always had greatness, but now you embody the word like it was created just for you.”

Tears formed in her eyes, both from the rich ache of love in her heart and from the heavy weight behind his words. “The pain made me cold.”

“The pain made you strong,” he corrected, determined to make her see. “And now I’m here, the truth is out, and we can start over.”

“I suppose every queen should have a king at her side,” she decided, fighting back the tears with a bold smile. “Though I should remind you that ours will always be a volatile love. I’ll fight you, hurt you, love you, and worship you. There will be days when I’ll want to destroy you, and other days when I’ll need you more desperately than any woman has ever needed a man. Can you weather those storms with me, Wyatt? Or should I find someone who can?”

The steel of his eyes sharpened enough to slice her, his face lit with purpose and passion. “If not me, than who? No one else will ever be able to handle you the way I can.”

“I know,” she whispered, leaning in to capture his mouth with her own, her hands grasping at the black t-shirt he wore. “Damnit, if you ever leave me again I swear I’ll kill you.”

“The only way I’m leaving you is if I’m already dead,” Wyatt told her, holding her against him possessively as his lips roamed over hers, suddenly taking on a tenderness that startled them both. His hand came up to trail over her cheek, brushing strands of her hair away from her face. “You realize that I have to make you my wife now.”

“For the second time,” she murmured, smiling as her eyes met his.

“Sweetheart, with the way we go at each other, I’m sure we’ll be marrying and divorcing each other once a year, at least.”

She laughed, eyes bright as she shook her head. “We will never be apart again. They’ll have to poison us, drown us, burn us and tear off our limbs before we’ll ever let go. And by then we’ll be dead.”

“And dancing in the flames of Hell together,” Wyatt grinned, kissing her again.

When he pulled away, Madison’s answering smile was every bit as sinful as the laugh that accompanied it. “Until then, we’ll just have to raise hell right here.”

He reached for her hands, linking his fingers with hers. “The world isn’t going to know what hit them.”

Grant stood, as
he often did, at the wide windows of his office, admiring the city outside that exploded with light. Reds, yellows, blues, and whites all shifted and glittered against the darkness, highlighting the buildings and cascading upward to the sky to block out any trace of what stars may be hiding.

He didn’t mind. He would take the stars of city lights any day over the real thing. City lights meant that he was home.

The door to his office opened, and he turned to see Quinn step in and close the door behind her. She smiled, slow and knowing, as she walked up to him.

Mesmerized by the look of longing in her eyes, Grant found he nearly forgot to breathe. Seeing her, dressed in a soft white dress with her hair loose to her shoulders and her gypsy eyes only for him, had him remembering the first time he had kissed her, right there before that very window. That had been when the storm had just begun, when his life was still somewhat intact, somewhat still structured and uncluttered.

Now what was it? he wondered as he watched her lift her arms to wrap around his neck, as her face tilted up to his for a kiss.

It was extraordinary.

He kissed her, greedy to the feel of her body pressing into his own. Her hair filled his hands as he took, took, and took all she was willing to give, all she was offering. Quinn had given him so much since she had walked into his life. Now it was time he gave her something in return.

As he pulled away, he reached into his jacket pocket and unearthed a small, black box. Quinn stared at it blankly for a moment before realizing what it was.

“Oh, my God.” A brilliant smile burst over her face as she looked up at him, her hands coming up to cover her mouth.

He only smiled in return as he opened the box, took out the old fashioned gold ring with its intricate leaf patterns and single, rose colored stone, and reached for her hand.

“This ring was my great-grandmother’s,” he explained as he slipped it onto her ring finger, pleased that it fit better than he had hoped. “Fern Vasser. She was married to Winston.”

Quinn stared down at the ring, speechless. Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to find the words to say, but instead she simply threw her arms around him.

“Thank you,” she whispered, tears falling from her eyes. “It’s perfect, Grant.”

He held onto her, surprised by how moved he was by her reaction. He had hoped she would appreciate an antique; a ring that may not glitter, but an heirloom that carried with it the history of times past and the traditions he held so dear to his heart.

She backed away and beamed up at him, wiping away the tears. “Great, now I’m a hot mess. How romantic, huh? Ma would be so ashamed.”

He silently reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and handed it to her. She stared down at it and immediately started laughing.

“I swear you were born in the wrong century,” she said as she wiped at her face, looking up at him adoringly. “Next you’ll tell me you have a top hat in your closet that you wear on special occasions.”

His eyebrows rose curiously. “And if I did?”

She grinned. “I’d tell you to get the horse and buggy, and take me for a ride.”

“That can be arranged, if you want.”

When she realized he was serious, she bit back another laugh. “That’s okay. Though I would love to take my family on a tour of the city. This is the first time they’ve been here.”

Grant fought back a wince. “Your whole family?”

She nodded. “The boys want to see the Statue of Liberty, and my sisters want to hit up Broadway. Ma wants to see the Empire State Building, and dad just wants to find the most authentic pizza parlor in town and sample everything they’ve got.” She smiled again, amused by the flicker of panic in his eyes. “I know my family is a lot to handle, Grant. But I promise we are the most loving bunch of people you’ll ever meet. And they adore you, seriously. My sisters are already scheming how to steal you away from me.”

“Ah…” he frowned, brows furrowed as he tried to think of what to say.

Quinn reached up to cup his face. “It’s a joke. They know you’re nuts about me.”

Warmth flashed in his eyes to chase away the anxiety. “Good. I suppose it would be hypocritical of me to dislike your family while asking you to accept my own. No one in your family ever killed anyone.”

Her hand fell as she sighed. “You forgot about my father, the mobster.”

“You said that was a joke.”

“Please. After meeting my dad, don’t you think he could pass for a gangster?” she asked playfully, nudging him in the arm. “He can do serious pretty well until you make him laugh. Then he’s nothing but a big softie. Kind of like you, actually.”

“I am not soft,” Grant countered.

“Uh huh,” she teased, wrapping her arms around his waist and staring up at him. “The first time you smiled at me, I knew my oh-so-serious boss had a soft side. You just needed someone pushy to get it out of you.”

“Pushy…” Grant repeated, holding her close as his mouth twitched. “That’s a fitting word for you.”

She snorted. “Oh, shut up and kiss me again before I smack you.”

He obliged her, relishing in the feel of her melting against him, as caught up in the moment as he was. Her hands weakened as she tried to hold on to him, but he felt her giving in to him, conceding the battle as he stripped her of her wit and her ability to think.

He wanted to spend the rest of his life doing just that.

“Are you sure you still want to marry into my family?” he asked, suddenly feeling as though he were trapping her, stealing her away. What if his family really did destroy her?

“Such a stupid question,” she replied, kissing his cheek, his jawline, the curve of his throat. “The future is ours, Grant. We can make it whatever we want. I say we make it spectacular.”