The Rebel's Return (5 page)

“Oh.”

The music ended and before the band began the next melody, he took her hand and led her off the dance floor and straight toward the doors that opened up onto the balcony. Her mind warned her to resist, to put a stop to his take-charge maneuver. But her instincts, primed by an odd sense of anticipation and curiosity, kept her at his side. Once on the balcony, where only a handful of guests mingled in quiet, dark corners, Maddie pulled free of the stranger and asked, “What sort of game are you playing?”

He grinned. “Do you like games? You must, to spend your life planning things that entertain a bunch of rich, bored Texans.”

“The Mystery Gala happens to be a charity event, with proceeds going to the Red Cross. If you received an invitation, then you know that you were expected
to make a sizable donation for the privilege of participating in tonight's event.”

“I'm here as a guest of a Lone Star Country Club member,” he told her.

“And just who might that be?”

Before she realized what was happening, he pulled her into his arms. “Still the same cautious yet curious Maddie.”

“What?” She looked up, because even wearing three-inch heels, she wasn't at eye-level with him.

“You honestly don't remember me, do you?”

“Am I supposed to know you?”

He lowered his head. She held her breath. His lips brushed hers softly, tentatively. She sighed. You're insane if you let him kiss you, she told herself. But when his mouth covered hers, she disregarded the warning and participated fully in the experience. His kiss possessed an equal combination of passion and tenderness that ignited a longing within her like none she'd ever known. Strangely enough, the only other kiss that had ever come close to matching this one was the time Dylan Bridges had—Dylan Bridges! My God! Could it be?

Breathless and stunned by the possibility, she jerked away from the stranger and surveyed him from head to toe.

“Honey, you reacted to that kiss the same way you reacted to the one I gave you seventeen years ago.”
His smile widened, revealing a set of straight white teeth.

Dylan Bridges! Had she known, subconsciously, who he was? Physically he bore only a slight resemblance to the sixteen-year-old boy she remembered. Gone was the long, pale blond hair, the gold earring, the grungy jeans and tattered T-shirt. He was taller, broader, and an air of alluring self-confidence had replaced the cocky bravado he'd once displayed.

Not giving a thought to her actions, guided by pure feminine instinct, Maddie grabbed the lapels of Dylan's tuxedo and kissed him. She had to find out if another kiss would affect her the same way the first kiss had seventeen years ago, the way the one tonight had. Pure dynamite. Explosions erupted throughout her body and inside her head as she threw her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. He took his lead from her and within minutes he backed her up against the brick wall, positioned his erection against her flat belly and devoured her mouth with his. The hunger inside her raged, needing to be fed.

The sound of voices brought Maddie out of the sensual haze that had momentarily overcome her common sense. Taking several deep, calming breaths, she pulled away from him.

“I—I don't know what made me do that,” she said.

“Don't you?”

She blushed. Dammit, she hadn't blushed in ages. “Sexual chemistry, I guess,” Maddie admitted.

“Yeah, we seem to still have plenty of that, don't we?”

She blew out a long, I-need-to-take-control-of-my-emotions breath. “What are you doing here?”

“In Mission Creek or at the country club tonight?”

“Both.”

“I came home to visit my father,” Dylan told her. “Dad and I decided it was time to put the past behind us and see if we can build a new and better father/son relationship.”

“That's wonderful. I'm sure your father is very pleased,” she said. “Where is Carl tonight? I know he was on our guest list.”

“Dad wasn't feeling well. He thinks he might have caught a bug, but he insisted I come to the Mystery Gala without him.” Dylan looked deeply into her eyes. “He knew how much I wanted to see you again.”

Dylan's statement figuratively and literally took her breath away. “Oh,” was all she could manage to say.

“You're even prettier than I remembered,” he said. “Maturity becomes you, Maddie.”

“It does you, too. I didn't even recognize you. You look so different.”

“Thanks. I did some growing up at the Reform Center for Boys and a lot more growing up after I got out and tried to make it on my own.”

She glanced at his expensive tuxedo. “Apparently, you've done all right.”

“Well enough. What about you? What's the richest woman in Texas doing working as the events manager for the Lone Star Country Club? Whatever happened to Daddy's spoiled darling?”

“The spoiled little princess you knew doesn't exist anymore. The woman I am today likes her job here at the club. And if I do say so myself, I'm damn good at it.” She glanced into the ballroom. “And speaking of my job—I need to go back inside and see to it that this evening's party goes as planned.”

“You don't have a date tonight, do you?”

“No, I don't, but—”

“You do now.”

Dylan took her arm, escorted her into the ballroom and didn't leave her side for the next hour while she kept watch over the proceedings. Before the staged murder occurred and the mystery solving began, Maddie introduced Dylan to all the Carsons in attendance, as well as several Wainwrights and a couple he didn't know—Joan and Hart O'Brien. Dylan had repeated the same explanation numerous times. Carl was home with a virus of some sort. He and his father were in the process of patching up their relationship. Yes, he'd be in town for a while. He lived and worked in Dallas. He was a stockbroker, and yes, he'd turned his life around after his two years in the Texas Reform Center for Boys.

Dylan pulled Maddie aside. “Looks like your as
sistant can handle things here. How about you and I slip away for a while?”

“Allowing Alicia to take charge of tonight's gala is part of my training strategy. I believe hands-on experience is the best way to learn. But even though she's doing a wonderful job, I'm not sure I'd feel comfortable leaving her completely on her own.”

Dylan tugged on Maddie's arm. “Let's go. We won't be gone long. Half an hour.”

“I don't think so.”

“Come on, Maddie. You know you're dying to come with me.”

Before she had a chance to reply, he whisked her out of the ballroom, down to the lobby and outside to the covered portico. He asked the valet for his car and while they waited, he watched Maddie.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she told him.

“Like what?”

“Like I'm the first woman you've seen in ten years.”

“I haven't seen you in seventeen years.”

A warm flush spread through Maddie's body. Why was it that Dylan had a way of saying things that affected her in a sexual way? His words went to her head the way champagne did, producing a similar intoxication.

“Thirty minutes. That's all,” she told him. “I shouldn't be leaving the party this way, but—”

“But you couldn't resist me any more tonight than you were able to when we were sixteen.”

The valet brought the black Porsche to a halt in front of the country club. Maddie eyed the car suspiciously.

“Yours?” she asked.

“Mine,” he replied.

“Not borrowed?”

He chuckled. “Bought and paid for. The bill of sale is in the glove compartment, if you'd like to check.”

Dylan tipped the valet generously, then shooed him aside when he opened the passenger door for Maddie. Dylan assisted her into the car, then rounded the hood and hopped in behind the wheel. He revved the motor, flew down the circular drive and out onto the open road.

The evening breeze assaulted Maddie's hair, which tonight she'd worn in a sophisticated French twist. Tendrils eased free; some curled about her face and others stuck to her cheeks. She'd look windblown and mussed by the time they returned to the club, but she didn't care. Lately she'd been daydreaming of a man like Dylan Bridges coming into her life and sweeping her off her feet. Little had she realized that the man himself would re-enter her life and make her experience daring, dizzying feelings that prompted her to throw caution to the wind. A thirty-minute escape wouldn't hurt her. She could allow herself that much time away from reality, couldn't she?

Maddie reached up, removed the pins from her hair, shook her head and let her long tresses fall free. In her peripheral vision she caught a glimpse of Dylan stealing a quick glance at her. She tossed back her head and laughed. Leaving behind responsibilities and uncertainties, she raced off into the dark Texas night with a man she'd known only as a teenage rebel.

Dear God, when was the last time she'd felt this good, and so totally alive with anticipation?

D
ylan had a difficult time keeping his eyes on the road. Of all the women he'd known in his thirty-three years, Maddie Delarue was one of a kind. She was not only the most beautiful, but the most tempting. Yeah, sure, part of the fascination was the fact she'd been the star of his adolescent wet dreams, the girl he'd fantasized about scoring with, the forbidden fruit he hadn't been able to resist trying to pick. But what the hell did he really know about the woman she was now? Not a damn thing other than she had enough money to buy and sell anybody in Mission Creek, including the Wainwrights and Carsons. And he knew one other thing—he still had the hots for her. How was that possible?

He'd recognized her instantly, the moment he'd seen her standing in the country club lobby, looking like some fairy-tale princess in her chic black gown and her sparkling diamonds. By the time she'd rushed over to him when he entered the ballroom, he was fighting to tame his body's reaction. He hadn't gotten that aroused that fast since he'd been twenty.

“Where are we going?” Maddie asked.

“Does it matter?”

“No, I suppose it doesn't. Just remember you promised to get me back to the club in thirty minutes.”

“Then we can't go far,” he said. “I seem to remember a bumpy dirt road not far from here. Is it still there?”

Maddie laughed. “You've got to be kidding. Do you really want to take a ride down Memory Lane?”

“Yeah, why not? I'd kind of like to see how things would've turned out seventeen years ago if the police hadn't shown up.”

“I'm not sure,” she told him, “but I think I might have gone all the way with you. You were pretty heady stuff for an innocent like me. Your kisses really curled my toes. I'd never experienced anything so powerful.”

“Lady, you know how to turn the screws, don't you?” He grinned at her, even though he was hurting in the worst possible way. “You've got to know that telling a guy something like that is bound to increase the size of his ego…and certain vital parts of his body.”

“Are you referring to a swollen head?” she taunted.

“Red, you're shameless. You know damn well it's not my head that's swollen.”

Maddie burst into laughter. Dylan loved the sound. It was refreshingly genuine. Just like the woman herself. He'd dated so many phonies, so many women
who pretended to be something they weren't, that being with a woman as open and honest as Maddie aroused him unbearably. He felt he could see right through her, as if she had no defenses, as if she'd lowered her protective shield and allowed him a glimpse at the real woman beneath the polished exterior.

“There's an overlook on the ridge,” Maddie said, a wide smile on her face. “It won't take ten minutes to get there and the view is magnificent. Just take Goldenrod Road for about two miles. I'll tell you where to turn.”

“Is this a lover's lane?” he asked.

“I don't think so. It's on private property and is posted with signs stating that fact.”

“Are you trying to get me in trouble with the law again?” he asked teasingly.

“The land belongs to me,” she replied.

“Ah, I should have known. Just another part of Delarue, Inc.'s vast holdings.”

“A very small part.”

He turned off onto Goldenrod Road and checked the mileage gauge. “So, why did you decide not to take over the reins of Delarue, Inc., when your father died?”

“Oh, but I did take over. At least for a while. I found out rather quickly that I hadn't inherited any ruthless, cutthroat genes from my father, personality traits necessary to command a business empire the size
of Delarue, Inc.” Maddie looked straight ahead, taking note of the passing scenery, visible by the light of the three-quarter moon. “I have a say in whatever major decisions are made, but I prefer to leave the day-to-day running of the business to men and women who thrive on it.”

“I'm surprised you didn't find yourself a husband who would've loved to take charge.”

“Turn left at the next four-way stop,” she told him. “Are you applying for the position?”

Dylan stopped at the four-way intersection, and not seeing another vehicle in any direction, he idled the Porsche and turned his gaze on Maddie. “Is that what you think this is all about? You think I'm interested in getting my hands on Delarue, Inc.?”

“You tell me.” Maddie stared directly into his eyes. “I heard you telling people that you're a stockbroker in Dallas, which tells me that you're a shrewd businessman. Shrewd enough to afford a Porsche and an Armani suit and a Rolex watch and—”

He reached across the console, lifted his hand to her face and caressed her cheek. “I don't need Delarue, Inc. I don't want Delarue, Inc. I've got more money than I'll spend in two lifetimes.”

“Then you're very rich?”

“Not as rich as you, but then few people are.” He ran the tip of his index finger across her slightly parted lips. “I'm a multimillionaire and I get richer every
day. I seem to have the Midas touch when it comes to making money.”

Dylan returned his hands to the steering wheel, switched on the blinker to indicate a left turn, then headed the Porsche down the dark country road. Neither he nor Maddie said a word as they drove along the winding lane that led to the ridge overlooking the valley. He pulled his car up to the edge of the paved overlook and parked, but left the motor running. He punched the CD player and instantly the still night air filled with hauntingly sweet jazz.

“So, if you're not interested in my money, what are you interested in?” Maddie asked, keeping her gaze focused straight ahead at the starry summer night sky.

“Honey, do you really need to ask me that?”

“Yes, I'm afraid I do.”

“Been bushwhacked a few times, have you? One gigolo too many?”

“Something like that. You remember Jimmy Don Newman, don't you? Well, I was engaged to him briefly when I was nineteen. All of two weeks. I found him in bed with my college roommate and he laughed in my face. He told me that the only reason he'd ever dated me was because I was the heiress to the Delarue fortune.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Yes, he was. And my only regret is that I wasted so much of my time with him. But Jimmy Don wasn't half the cad my second fiancé was. Nigel Pennington,
the Earl of Cimberleigh, latched on to me when I vacationed in Europe the summer after I received my master's degree. It was my first vacation without my mother and I must admit that I was raring to do something wild and fun. Nigel wasn't very wild, but he was a lot of fun.”

“So what happened with dear old Nigel?”

“On the night of our engagement party, which took place at the castle of some friend of his, I inadvertently discovered that not only was Nigel knee-deep in debt, he already had a fiancée. The woman was posing as his devoted sister.”

“You're right. I believe Nigel's duplicity tops Jimmy Don's.”

“There have been a few others,” she admitted. “Not fiancés, just temporary boyfriends. And not a one of them could see anything except dollar signs when they looked at me.”

“Then they were fools.”

“Dylan, don't. I'm not good at playing games, so I gave up playing them quite a few years ago.”

“The only game I want to play with you is good old-fashioned Post Office. It's a game where I kiss you and you kiss me back.”

“Aren't we a little old to be playing a kid's game?”

“The way I play it, it's a very grown-up game.” Dylan reached over, swooped her out of her seat, across the console and into his lap.

Déjà vu.

“I seem to remember your doing this once before,” she said, sitting stiffly atop his thighs.

He kissed her neck. “Do you remember my doing this?”

“No.”

He skimmed his fingertips over the rise of her breasts exposed by the low, square-cut neckline of her satin gown. “What about this?”

“No.”

He forked his splayed fingers through her wind-tousled hair and held her head in place as he lowered his mouth to hers. With his lips a hairbreadth from hers, he said, “But you remember this, don't you?”

“Yes.”

The kiss was as hard and demanding as the one the sixteen-year-old Dylan had given her, but with the expertise of a man who had perfected the art of kissing with years of experience. He could tell that she was thinking about resisting him, but suddenly, as if something bold and daring broke free inside her, she gave herself over completely to the moment. When she softened against him, he absorbed her, melding her flesh to his. He teased and tasted, delved and retreated. And all the while he held her head in place, a part of him was afraid she might pull away. Lost in the throes of fulfilling a teenage boy's fantasy, Dylan didn't realize that he was fast losing control, as if his sixteen-year-old self had taken possession of his thirty-three-year-old mind and body. When he cupped one of her
breasts through the satin material of her gown, Maddie whimpered, which drove him crazy.

While he ravaged her mouth, he slid his hand over her back, seeking the gown's zipper. When he eased the zipper open, Maddie moved against his chest and mumbled against his lips.

“Stop, Dylan. Please, stop.”

Damn! He jerked up the zipper, stopped kissing her and buried his face against her bare shoulder. After taking several deep breaths, he lifted his head and looked directly at her.

“I'm sorry, Maddie. I didn't mean to let things get out of hand.” He grinned sheepishly. “I don't usually lose control like that.”

Maddie eased up and out of his lap, slid across the console and back into the passenger seat. Breathing raggedly, she hugged her arms across her waist.

“You didn't do anything I didn't want you to do,” she admitted. “The truth is I'd really like to…have sex with you. But I'm not going to. I've sworn off men. And, Dylan Bridges, you're most definitely a man. As much as I'd like to believe that you're my fantasy come true, you aren't. And despite the fact that we knew each other in high school, you're really a stranger to me now.”

Dylan ran his hand over his face and down his throat, then looked up at the starry night sky. “I'm going to be in Mission Creek for a while. I'd like to see you again.”

“We'd better not start something that is bound to end badly for both of us,” she told him. “Besides, you should be spending all your time with your father.”

“I don't think Dad would mind if I had a few dates while I'm here. Besides, I've been seriously considering moving back to Mission Creek for good.”

Maddie jerked her head around and stared at him. “You have? But why would you want to leave Dallas?”

“Because my dad's here.” He could have added “because you're here,” but he didn't. Maddie Delarue would find out soon enough that she hadn't seen the last of him.

“Yes, of course. I understand. You two have spent years apart.”

She looked at Dylan, her blue eyes filled with sympathy. The last thing—the very last thing—he wanted from this woman was sympathy. He wanted to be her friend and her lover, not necessarily in that order. But he didn't want to be a guy she felt sorry for, as she had when they'd been kids.

Dylan checked his Rolex. “I think our thirty minutes are up.”

“Yes, I'm sure they are.”

He shifted the car into reverse and headed down the ridge. Maddie remained quiet and Dylan couldn't think of anything else to say. At least not tonight. But she'd be hearing from him again—sooner rather than
later. Tomorrow he'd start with a dozen roses. Not red ones. Not for Maddie. Peach roses. To match her peaches-and-cream skin and her peachy golden-red hair.

Within ten minutes, he drove under the canopied entrance portico at the country club. After getting out and tossing his keys to the valet, he rounded the hood and opened Maddie's door. As they walked into the lobby, Maddie paused.

“I need to freshen up before I return to the ballroom. Why don't you go on back to the party? I'll see you later.”

Dylan grasped her hand. “Let me take you to dinner tomorrow night.” Dammit, man, you're rushing her, he told himself. You should have waited. What's the matter with you? Can't you control your impulses where Maddie is concerned?

She shook her head. “Ask anyone who knows me and they'll tell you that Maddie Delarue doesn't do relationships. I'm lousy at them. I don't believe in love and happily ever after.”

“I'm not asking for a relationship. Just a date, to start with. And then later on, when you're ready—”

“Sex?”

He grinned. “Yeah, Red, sex would be nice.”

“Just sex?”

“Sure. Just sex.”

Her fragile smile bothered him greatly. Once again he could see beyond the facade she presented so
bravely and saw the lonely woman beneath. Poor little rich girl, he thought, and he had the oddest notion that he was the one man on earth who could make Maddie happy.

He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anything. And by God, he meant to have her. In the past ten years he'd gotten just about everything he'd wanted. Perhaps that rate of success had spoiled him, made him believe he was invincible when he wasn't. But Maddie was worth the effort, worth the risk of falling flat on his face.

“Please, leave me alone,” Maddie said. “I'm used to my life the way it is. I'm not willing to jeopardize my security and peace of mind for an ill-fated romance. I don't have room in my life for a reformed bad boy, no matter how tempting he is.”

Dylan released her hand. “Who says I'm reformed?” He turned and walked away, leaving her in the lobby as he went upstairs to rejoin the party.

 

Maddie entered the ballroom ten minutes later. She had brushed her hair, having no choice but to leave it hanging loose, and she'd reapplied her makeup, hoping no one would notice that her lips were slightly swollen. As she walked into the room, she glanced around, looking for Dylan. If he was here, she didn't see him. The local actor playing the part of the police detective had rounded up what he was referring to as the “usual suspects” in the fictitious murder case.
Maddie maneuvered around the edges of the room until she made her way to Alicia.