When Empires Fall (45 page)

Linc grinned a bit sheepishly, laughter in his eyes. “Ah, yeah, about that…”

“Am I just a consolation prize after she turned you down?” She let him spin her around, her lips curving as she came back into his arms.

“You are nobody’s consolation prize, Lynette.” He pulled her closer, his face mere inches from her own. She arched against him as his hands trailed down her back covetously. “You are, however, mine. And I intend to see that you stay that way.”

“Is that right?” she asked, trying to stay amused even as the hunger in his eyes distracted her. “Linc, people are watching.”

“So?”

“So you look like you’re going to devour me in one bite.”

He laughed at her again, his eyes wicked. “That’s because I want to.”

She blushed, averting her eyes from his in a last ditch effort to keep her knees from giving out. He had this way of talking that just about ruined all of her careful years of etiquette school.

“My parents are supposed to be coming. If they see us like this they are going to make assumptions.”

“Let them.”

She eyed him again, one eyebrow arched skeptically. “You do remember that my father suggested that you should marry and impregnate me, right?”

“And maybe I will,” he said easily, returning to the dance as casually as if he had just told her the time.

She blinked at him, unsure she had heard him correctly. “You don’t really mean that.”

“Maybe I do.” He smiled again as he spun her around, enjoying the way the length of her silk and lace gown shivered over those long legs of hers. “I already told you that you are mine and that I have no intention of letting you go.”

“We barely know each other.”

“On the contrary, Lynette, I feel I know you very well,” Linc told her, leaning in to kiss her nose playfully as she simply stared at him, unsure what to say. “I know that you are a ballet dancer with the New York Ballet. I know that you come from South Carolina and that your father is the reputable Senator Shaw, a staunch Republican, considering running for the presidency in 2016. I know that you enjoy old movies, maintain an impeccable diet, love architecture and yellow roses. You keep current on classical music to please your parents, but are incredibly talented at belting out country tunes in the shower.”

“That’s enough.” She laughed, raising her hand up in retreat. “I get it, you know
some
stuff about me.”

“And the rest we have a lifetime to learn about.” He grabbed her upheld hand and kissed her palm, his eyes meeting hers as he did so. When she blushed again, he lifted his head and smiled so warmly that she felt its impact straight down to her very bones. “Maybe I should stop wasting time and just ask you.”

“Ask me what?” She trembled once against him, her eyes widening.

He smiled coyly, making her heart pound in her chest. “Do you love me like I love you, Lynette? Or are you just playing with this fool’s heart of mine?”

Unable to do more, she laughed, hysterical, bubbling laughter that rose out of her throat in waves, mixing with her disbelief at his words. Shaking her head, she looked at him as if he was mad. “Good Lord, Linc, you need to slow down.”

Pride bruised, he frowned at her. “Why?”

Seeing the hurt in his eyes, she reached for him, cupping his face in her hands. “Please, don’t misconstrue my words.” Delicately, she leaned in to press her lips to his. “You frighten me, Linc. You fell out of the sky and came into my life and I haven’t been the same since. And I don’t mean that in a bad way.”

“But this is moving too fast for you,” he murmured, his eyes searching hers. “And my impulsiveness scares you.”

She nodded with a soft smile. “My life is very structured, and I prefer it that way. But if you must know, I do…I do love you.”

He let out a breath of relief and pulled her in for a swift kiss. “Good. Because I was willing to go to Hell and back to convince you to love me if you didn’t.”

“That won’t be necessary,” she said dryly, smirking at him. “But I better not catch wind of you hitting on Quinn again.”

He grinned. “What? And deprive my brother of the first woman he’s fallen in love with in three years? Even I’m not that cruel.”

T
here had been a time when she wouldn’t have hesitated to drive a knife straight into Wyatt Bailey’s traitorous heart.

Which was probably why she was so surprised to find herself refraining from doing so now.

She had held a knife in her hand throughout dinner, slicing through the chicken on her plate without even once imagining hurling it into his chest.

Madison figured she was either drunk, distracted, or, better yet, completely over him.

But no, none of those things were true. As a rule she never allowed herself to get drunk, so she had sipped at her single glass of wine throughout dinner. And she rarely found herself distracted, despite the scandal and her family troubles. Maintaining a clear and level head had always been her strong suit, especially when it was of the utmost importance.

So that left being over him. Which she knew was a bold-faced lie.

She was as over him as she was a goddamn nun. And the fact that he was parading himself around her, waiting for her to take a bite out of him really grated at her already testy mood. She
wanted
to destroy him and teach him a lesson for daring to show his face to her again. But it appeared that her
want
to hurt him was much surpassed by her
need
to enjoy him.

Damn him to Hell for it.

“You realize of course that I am never going to forgive you,” she said quietly, running her fingers up and down the stem of her wineglass, her eyes following the movement. Beside her, Wyatt leaned casually back in his chair and studied her, wishing he could give her the world and yet knowing she would never accept it. Not from him, anyway.

“I never suggested I wanted your forgiveness, sweetheart,” he replied, noting the way her shoulders lifted and fell softly as she breathed.

“Then why are you sitting here, desperate to touch me and yet smart enough to know what will happen if you try?”

He smiled, slow and catlike, as he leaned over to run his right hand down the exposed skin of her back. When she did nothing more than tense and shift away from him, he started to laugh.

“Looks like your bark is louder than your bite this time.”

Shooting him a disdainful glare, she rose to her feet and turned to him, leaning down until her face was level with his. She met his eyes with hers, hot amber into cold steel, and smiled predatorily.

“Is it my bite you want, Wyatt?” she purred, leaning forward as if to whisper in his ear, but instead nibbling on it. He reached up to grip her arms, losing himself momentarily in her scent, in the feel of her clever mouth on his skin. She had always been intoxicating; a drug to his system that he’d been addicted to from the very start.

Knowing he was on the brink of caving in to her wiles, he leaned back and let his hands fall away from her arms, his eyes hard and filled with dark humor as he stared up at her. “What I want is another drink.”

He rose to his feet then and walked away from her, leaving her standing frozen in place, stunned and furious. She watched him make his way towards the men’s room and immediately turned away, cursing herself for playing right into his game once again.

Inside the restroom, Wyatt stormed over to one of the gleaming porcelain sinks inlaid in rich amber colored granite and flipped on the nickel faucet. He set his fedora on the counter and hastily splashed water over his face. Bracing his hands on either side of the sink, his head lowered and his eyes shut tight, he fought to slow the rushing of his blood.

Damnit, what was he even doing there? He wasn’t even sure he knew any longer. His original intentions had seemed to become inconsistent with his actions, and he was beginning to lose his mind over it.

He had wanted to help relieve Win of his painful secret, and he had done so. He had given his corroborating statement to the detective and had seen to it that Win, for the first time in fifty years, felt free and safe. He had even followed through on his intention to see Madison, to check out how she was doing without him after all this time. But that was supposed to be the end of it. He wasn’t supposed to see her again and fall back into the possessive need for her that had gotten him into trouble in the first place. No, he had been originally planning on getting the hell out of Dodge before it would even be possible.

But he had been a damn fool, he knew that now. A damn fool for thinking he could see her and not want a taste of her, smell her and not crave her presence, hear her and not fall to his knees at her feet. The fact that she was even more stunning now than she had been at eighteen was something he had not expected, though he should have known. Like a fine wine, she had aged with grace and vitality, so beautiful it hurt. Especially when he saw the hate she felt for him, could sense the warranted hostility and fury radiating off of her despite the coolness of her gaze.

And he deserved it, he thought as he lifted his head to eye himself in the mirror. He deserved every last ounce of hatred that resided in her heart for him.

Even though she had undoubtedly been better off without him for all these years, could he deny that he was still completely in love with her?

No. But her face would haunt him until the day he died.

Unless he found a way to get her back.

She made her
way through the room, greeting the guests and making polite conversation. Playing the gracious hostess had never been difficult for her, despite just how much she hated nearly every person present. It was a gift, she knew, to be able to portray one emotion on the outside while feeling a different one entirely on the inside.

Madison smiled warmly, bowed her head graciously, held and shook hands sociably, and accepted condolences with a brave, albeit sad look of appreciation.

And all the while on the inside she raged with fury and spitting distrust.

Just why in the hell was Wyatt there, anyway? Who did he think he was, coming back into her life this way after all of these years? Certainly he had to have some reason other than the pathetic excuse of wanting to “support the family.” Bullshit. Wyatt had never given a damn about her family, so why should he now? He famously looked out for himself alone, and if he ever did anything kind it was always somehow beneficial to him to do so. Why should that have changed?

She stopped as she reached her father’s table where he was seated beside Jorja Hale. Win glanced up at his daughter, his face flushed a bit from the vodka tonics he’d been drinking, his smile affable and carefree.

“There’s my princess!” He laughed as he rose to his feet to give her a sloppy hug. Madison carefully peeled him off of her, her nose crinkling slightly at the heavy scent of alcohol.

“Perhaps it’s time to cut you off,” she said coldly, averting her eyes from him to glare at Jorja disdainfully. “I suppose it’s too much to ask that you don’t allow him to have any more alcohol.”

The woman merely crossed her long, slender legs and smirked haughtily. “He’s a grown man, honey. He can take care of himself.”