Blush (7 page)

“Sleep, Maddy. Go to sleep.”

He’d stay until the next morning, to make sure that she was all right. But as Alex looked down at his rock-solid erection, he thought that he’d likely be seeing to his own pleasure that evening.

Sleep wasn’t on the menu for him.

•   •   •

M
addy woke with the tantalizing aroma of bacon and coffee tickling the inside of her nose. Cautiously, she opened her eyes. She was in her bedroom, in her bed, and to judge by the brilliant white light streaming in stripes through her venetian blinds, it was morning.

Those were all normal things. The pile of sand in her mouth and the tenderness in her head were not; nor was the fact that she was in bed in her bathrobe, which had bunched uncomfortably around her waist.

As memories of the evening before started to filter into her waking mind, she wanted to pull the sheet over her head and hide.

She wasn’t embarrassed at the amount that she’d had to drink, though she wasn’t proud of herself, either. What made her want to lock herself in her bathroom for about a year was the knowledge that she’d thrown herself at Alex Fraser . . . and that he’d said no.

He said no. He said no. This caused panic to roil around in her gut. She had finally found someone around whom she felt safe, and she’d ruined it.

Fuck
. In throwing herself at him, she’d reduced herself to one of the harem that she knew must follow him around everywhere. Whatever had caused him to single her out, her actions must surely have squashed any desire that he had.

Maddy felt a searing disappointment tighten her lungs. Well, what had she expected? Nothing good had ever come from overindulging in alcohol. The fact that Alex had sent her the alcohol just made her mad.

Her throbbing temples and dry mouth wanted to shift the blame from herself squarely to him, and, judging by the scents emanating from her tiny kitchenette, he was still there.

Maddy was halfway across the room with her mind set on yelling at the man who had turned her down yet was still in her house when she realized that she was half naked. Though she was fairly sure she’d given him quite a show the night before, there wasn’t any point in offering up what he clearly didn’t want. Quite out of sorts, Maddy exchanged the worn robe for an oversized T-shirt and cotton sleep shorts and made a quick detour to the bathroom. Her body was anxious to be rid of the previous night’s toxins, and her mouth felt infinitely better with a refreshing wash of spearmint.

Her anger dissipated slightly when she finally, tentatively edged out of the bathroom, down the hallway and into the kitchen. She wasn’t used to having someone else in her living space, especially not someone who seemed to take up as much space as Alex did.

Plus she’d behaved badly the night before, even if he had kind of deserved it. She owed him an apology.

“Good morning, Miss Stone.” He was reading the
Wall Street Journal
. Of course he was. He lowered the paper, and Maddy felt a rush of heat when she saw that he was wearing glasses—wire-rimmed frames that sat halfway down his nose.

She had such a thing for a man in glasses.

Something niggled at her memory.

“Those glasses are real. The ones you wore in the casino weren’t.”

Alex tilted his head at her, curiosity on his face. “Very perceptive, Maddy.”

He looked amused that she had remembered and questioned him on it. “I prefer to wear my contacts when I’m doing business. I prefer to not have a barrier between myself and others in those kinds of situations. But my eyes get tired sometimes, so I give them a rest with the glasses. I keep a spare pair in my car.”

“Why didn’t you just wear your real glasses at the casino?” She couldn’t help but press him on it.

Alex raised an eyebrow at her. “I could have, I suppose. A superstition maybe, since technically I was still doing business. The ones I wore that day were cheap fakes that I picked up at a pharmacy on the way.”

He smiled at her, and the smile made butterflies riot around in her stomach. “And good morning to you, too.”

Maddy ducked her head, somewhat abashed. “Sorry for the inquisition. I used to be an optician. I still find it interesting.” Her knees quivered a little bit as she looked at him, seeming at home in her shabby kitchen, watching her intently with those spectacles perched on his nose. Knowing that he actually needed them, that he wasn’t one hundred percent perfect as a physical specimen, made her mouth water.

“Ah . . . and good morning to you, too.” This felt like the most awkward of morning afters, and they hadn’t even done anything. She was so out of her comfort zone, it was incredible. What was she supposed to do? What should she say?

She was frozen in the doorway of her own kitchen, unable to move forward or back.

Something in Alex’s stern expression softened a bit as he looked at her. “Come here.”

Though she found it odd to be ordered around in her own home, she did as she was bid. The closer she came to the tiny card table that she’d covered with a cheerful, floral-printed oilcloth, the more tantalizing the smell of bacon and coffee became.

“Sit and eat.” Leaning forward, Alex pulled out a chair for her and rested his hand comfortably on her shoulder as she complied. He was wearing his clothes from the night before, and there was a shadow dusting his cheeks. He looked delectable, and Maddy’s mouth watered for him more than it did for the food.

Stop it
. She had to stop; she knew it. He didn’t want her. He’d made that perfectly clear.

“How do you feel?” Alex folded the paper neatly and laid it on the table, his eyes never leaving her. Maddy squirmed under his intense scrutiny.

“I . . . I’ve felt better.” She was thirsty, so thirsty. She wanted to get up and get a glass of water, but for some absurd reason, she felt like she needed his permission.

“I would imagine so.” Leaning forward, he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, a gesture he had performed before.

Maddy laced her fingers together tightly. She wouldn’t press him for answers, not after last night, when she was afraid to make the situation even worse. He moved his gaze from her face and down over her body, and she became very aware of her traitorous body beneath the thin layers of cotton.

He said nothing, simply rose and moved to her kitchen counter.

“Here.” Two small brown pills and a glass of pink grapefruit juice appeared before her. She had no idea where they’d come from—there had certainly not been any juice in her fridge or pills in her cupboard last night.

“What is it?” Maddy’s voice was suspicious. She heard a huff of exasperation from somewhere behind her.

“It’s Advil. Now take it.”

She did, but only because she desperately wanted the juice.

“Good girl.” Alex once again sat down across from her. This time he had a plate in one hand and a steaming paper cup of coffee in the other.

“Where did this come from?” Maddy was startled at the breakfast that had appeared before her—light, fluffy pancakes, crispy strips of bacon, and fresh, juicy wedges of melon. Again, she knew that none of it had been in her fridge—she rarely ate breakfast, and a good dinner for her involved throwing something into the microwave.

Erin had been the cook. Though she’d only been twenty when their parents had died, she’d learned from a need to take care of her eighteen-year-old sister. Some of her creations had been more edible than others, but all of them had been better than anything Maddy would have been able to come up with.

Alex didn’t respond. Maddy shrugged and picked up her fork—she was hungry. Before the utensil was even halfway to her plate, Alex leaned over and wrapped his long fingers around her wrist, halting the movement.

Maddy look up at him in surprise.

“I should lay my hand on your naked ass for the stunt that you pulled last night.” His voice was angry, furiously so, and she was reminded of the anger that Alex had shown toward Massimo in the casino. Her mouth dried up, and her muscles tensed. She didn’t feel like she was in danger—somehow she didn’t think that Alex would ever hurt her.

No, she was aroused, aroused by the image of herself in his lap, her bare skin beneath his palm.

“I beg your pardon?” Her mouth opened and closed silently, and she was sure that she resembled nothing so much as a fish.

“You heard me.” His anger faded slightly at her discomfiture. “You should never drink so much at home alone. What if you had passed out? Or got alcohol poisoning?” He flexed his fingers around her wrist, and she shivered. “You’re not very big, and since the bottle is empty, I am assuming that you drank all of that wine yourself.”

Maddy opened her mouth to argue—she felt like she should be angry with him for lecturing her. She was a grown woman, after all. She found that though she wanted to get mad, the sensation just wasn’t there—he was only speaking the truth, after all. And it was nice . . . In a way, it was nice to find that someone cared.

“You’re right.” She muttered the words, then tried to move her hand. Her stomach was protesting its lack of solid food. She needed to eat.

Alex held firm.

“Do you want your breakfast?”

Maddy narrowed her eyes at him, then nodded. Of course she wanted her breakfast. What kind of question was that?

“Then promise you’ll never put yourself in danger so stupidly again.”

She was taken aback. Who demanded such a thing? And why did he care?

Her stomach growled. “Fine. I promise.”

He released his grip on her wrist slowly, letting his fingers trail down the smooth skin on the inside of her forearm. She found that the pancakes had lost their appeal compared to the feeling of his hands on her skin.

Reclaiming his hand, he steepled his fingers and tucked them beneath his chin. Hesitantly, Maddy cut a bite of pancake and chewed slowly. At the moment, it was the best thing she’d ever eaten.

She swallowed and spoke. “I promise to try, anyway.” She choked a bit on her grapefruit juice, surprised and amused to hear Alex Fraser hiss in frustration.

“You think it’s funny?” His voice was silk covering steel, and she was suddenly wary. He stood, walked behind her. Grabbing the nape of her neck in his hand, he stroked lightly over her vertebrae.

“Eat.” Yet she couldn’t eat, not with his fingers on her. She tried to protest, but he hushed her with a soft sound. “Eat.”

Maddy lifted a strip of bacon to her lips and bit. It was dry in her mouth, all of her senses focused on the touch of his hands on her neck. But she chewed, she swallowed, and she was rewarded with the movement of his hands. He rubbed her neck briefly, his fingers massaging her muscles. She arched into the touch, but it was brief, just a tease.

Eager for more of his touch, Maddy again bit, chewed, swallowed. This time he trailed his finger up the length of her spine.

They continued in that manner until she had emptied her plate. None of his touches were overtly sexual, but by the time her belly was full, she was a quivering mass of hot, needy nerves.

“Very good. Maddy . . .” His hands descended onto her shoulders, rubbing in slow circles down and out, coming very close to her breasts but not touching them.

She felt his breath on her earlobe, then the brush of his lips on her hair.

“What is it about you?” His voice was soft.

What was it about
her?
What was it about
him?
In the last twenty-four hours, he had resisted her drunken advances, tucked her chastely into bed, threatened to spank her, and fed her pancakes. She was confused, needy, and above all, heavily aroused.

His fingers moved lower, trailing from her neck and down over her spine, exploring the lump of each vertebrae. He leaned forward—she could tell because she could feel the warmth of his breath on the top of her head.

She felt the weight of his lips as he planted the lightest of kisses there. His lips traveled to the nape of her neck, and she stiffened, but it was with desire, not displeasure.

A sigh caught in her throat as the shrill automated sound of her cell phone ringing sliced through air that was thick with a delicious tension. She started, and Alex’s fingers pressed into her neck.

Maddy leaned back against his touch. “I’ll let it go to voice mail.” She didn’t care who was on the other end—she felt as if she would never be able to get enough of Alex’s fingers on her skin.

He removed them—cruelly, she thought.

“It could be important.” In his voice was a quiet reprimand, and she remembered that she hadn’t answered the phone when he’d called the night before. His tone was harsher than she thought was strictly necessary. It reminded her that she didn’t appreciate being scolded, and she narrowed her eyes as she considered letting the phone keep ringing, just because.

He did have a point, though. Heaving an exasperated sigh, Maddy reached for the cell that was sitting on the kitchen table, at the edge of her now empty plate.

She glanced at the caller ID before accepting the call. It was Dr. Gill’s office—why would they be calling her?

Shit—
shit
! Her appointment. She’d forgotten all about her appointment yesterday.

“I’m so sorry!” Maddy tried to stand as she held the phone to her ear, but Alex pressed a hand to her shoulder, gently, and it held her in place. She twisted in the chair to cast an irritated glance at him.

She didn’t really want him to hear this conversation. She didn’t want him to know that she was in therapy. No matter how strong this feeling was, however, she felt the need to obey him.
That
confused her enough that she stopped struggling, just for a second. He seemed to be a dominant kind of guy, true enough, but it didn’t explain why she wanted to do what he said when it went against what she wanted.

“Is everything all right, Madeline?” Dr. Gill’s gentle voice echoed in the speaker of her cell phone. “It is not like you to miss an appointment.”

“Yes, yes. Everything is fine.” Alex’s hand had stayed on her shoulder and was squeezing slightly. She wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth or lying to the doctor, however.

Things had been different since Alex Fraser entered her world, but she wasn’t yet sure of her feelings on the subject.