# The Foreigner's Caress

Kim Shaw

He was the best thing that ever happened to her…Born into wealth and privilege, former party girl Madison Daniels has come to New York to make a fresh start. Determined to change her wild ways, she never expects to meet a man who just might change her destiny. Jamaican-born Stevenson Elliott is everything she's ever wanted. He's handsome, intelligent, wealthy–and the billionaire heir seems equally unable to resist their sensual attraction. But then Madison's past indiscretions come back to haunt her, and his family vows to never approve of their romance.Used to getting what she wants, Madison now must find a way to convince Stevenson that a lifetime with her is worth more than his family's billions….The Daniels sisters–young, beautiful socialites who are about to find love in the real world…

## The Foreigner’s Caress. Kim Shaw

www.millsandboon.co.uk

## Dedication

Over the past couple of years I have discovered

the depths of the loyalty romance readers have for the

writers they love. This novel is dedicated to romance

readers, who continuously demand the best from the

heroes, heroines and, ultimately, the writers.

## Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Epilogue

## Chapter 1

“Your invitation, please?”

Madison pulled the five-by-eight-inch, eggshell cardstock invite from the silver evening bag that hung on her shoulder and handed it to the usher. She looked at him over the top of the Armani shades that sat perched on the tip of her delicate nose. He read the name embossed in gold lettering, allowing his gaze to travel from her Christian Louboutin stiletto-clad French-manicured toes, up shapely tanned legs to a hemline that ended above her knees, continuing to round hips, a tiny waist and ample cleavage. He settled on her face, an approving smile on his lips as he handed her invitation back over to her.

“Thank you, Ms. Madison Daniels. Welcome to the ‘Friends to Elect the next United States President’ banquet. Enjoy yourself this evening.”

“I always do,” Madison said.

She glided through the door the young man held open, her steps poised, her grace evident of a childhood of grooming. The wine-colored carpeted foyer to the Grand Promenade Ballroom was peppered with tuxedos and cocktail dresses as men and women chatted and laughed gaily. The backless, minuscule Donna Karan dress she wore, stunning and shimmering silver, caused passing gazes to linger on the “redbone” beauty as she made her way through the room. She was used to the attention and was undeterred as she continued to the main room, a faint scent of Armani Code perfume accentuating the air immediately around her. She stopped just inside the door, looked around, a frown forming at the corners of her mouth.

“Are you disappointed because he’s here or because he’s not here?” a deep voice asked from beside her.

Madison turned slowly to the left, her gaze traveling upward until it landed on a chiseled face. Gleaming white teeth set inside supple lips curved in a smile greeted her. An even-toned nutmeg face with eyes like ebony marbles framed by curly eyelashes was fixed in her direction.

“Excuse me?” she quipped.

“You were looking around for someone and your expression was one of obvious disappointment,” he said.

“And naturally you assumed that I was looking for a man? Typical,” Madison scoffed.

“I suppose I could not fathom that a beautiful woman such as yourself could ever be unescorted to a well-appointed affair such as this. My luck has never been quite that good, although I did win a blue ribbon at a potato sack race once when I was seven years old.”

There was no doubting the charm of the debonair stranger. The unmistakably English accent was melodic to Madison’s ears, making his rash judgment of her mood sound less antagonistic. He was long-drink-of-water tall, at least six feet two inches, towering above her diminutive frame. The span of his broad shoulders was visible in the classic Ralph Lauren black tuxedo he wore, and for a moment she had a fantasy of him picking her up, tossing her over one shoulder and carrying her away into his jungle lair. She snapped out of it with a quick shake of the head. She was no Jane and he certainly was no chocolate Tarzan. What he was was extremely good-looking, smooth-talking and probably the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on. However, Madison was not a woman who was easily charmed by good looks and sweet words.

“Look, Mr.—”

“Elliott.”

“Mr. Elliott—”

“Stevenson. Stevenson Elliott—”

“Stop interrupting me, please. I find it rude and annoying,” Madison snapped. “Now, Mr. Elliott—”

“But all of my good friends just call me Steve,” he persisted.

Madison regarded the broad smile housed in a mouth that was sumptuous and boyish at the same time. She tried to force an expression of aggravation onto her face, but realized that she had already begun to enjoy the game of cat and mouse they were playing more than she should. There was an air about him that was both irresistible and engaging, yet she was not about to let such a pompous foreigner in on the fact that he’d moved her.

“Mr. Elliott, while I would love to stand around trading witty commentary with a presumptuous stranger, frankly, I’ve got better things to do with my time.”

Madison turned away from him in an attempt to keep her eyes from betraying the lie she’d just told him. At that moment there was nothing she’d rather do than remain in his presence, but she was a woman who was pursued, not the other way around. She walked away from Stevenson Elliott, certain that his eyes were trained on her receding figure as she felt them boring into her back. The natural twist of her huggable hips as she walked was slightly exaggerated for his benefit and his torment.

Stevenson laughed out loud, taken by the beauty with the unconventional hairstyle and prickly tongue. He watched her as she crossed the room with a self-assured spring in her step that was admirable. He started to go after her, but instinctively knew that it was probably not a good idea. This silver-clad goddess was hell on wheels, of that he was certain, and a distraction like her was the last thing he needed in his life. There were expectations on his shoulders that required clear thinking and undistracted diligence. Yet even as he reminded himself of his obligations, his smoldering eyes followed her around the room.

“There you guys are,” Madison said as she came upon the table where her parents were seated.

Dr. and Mrs. Joseph Daniels were sharing a table with Judge Kelly from the southern district of New York, his wife, Patricia, Senator Houssman from Poughkeepsie and his wife, Carla, and Georgetta Price, a world-renowned Broadway diva.

Joseph rose to greet his daughter, his face beaming with pride.

“You made it, pumpkin,” he said, kissing her cheek. Joseph Daniels’s eyes lit up at the sight of his youngest child. His warm-brown face gave way to a wide smile, tiny laugh lines appearing in the corners of his eyes. Anyone who knew him knew that he had a heart as good as gold and as soft as putty when it came to his two daughters. Despite the trials and tribulations that Madison had dragged them through over the years, and mountains of worries finally pushed aside, there was nothing that could diminish his love and adoration for her, his youngest daughter.

Elmira tilted her face upward slightly to receive her daughter’s peck on her cheek.

“Everyone, you remember my baby girl, Madison?” Joseph asked with pride.

“Joe, I don’t think you can call this beautiful young woman your baby girl anymore. She’s all grown up!” Senator Houssman said.

“She certainly is. Why, the last time we saw you, young lady, it was with a face full of braces and pretty little pigtails,” Patricia Houssman chimed. “You, my dear, are an absolute knockout.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Houssman. Senator.” Madison smiled.

Joseph pulled out the chair to his left for Madison, who slid into the seat with a radiant smile.

“I don’t care how old or beautiful a woman she becomes—she will always be my baby girl!” Joseph said proudly, squeezing Madison’s shoulders firmly before taking his seat again.

Chatting resumed at the table as the band played and the champagne flowed. Thus, the evening progressed. It was one of the first political affairs that Madison had attended where she actually was not bored out of her mind. Georgetta Price was a laugh a minute, regaling their table with stories of the many schizophrenic directors and unscrupulous starlets she’d come across in her career, which spanned more than three decades. Madison listened with half an ear, as her mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of the charismatic young man with the English tongue and charming wit. Her feminine senses had been stroked by his teasing, making it difficult to forget him. She surreptitiously scanned the room from time to time, hoping to catch a glimpse of him; however, like Cinderella at the ball, he seemed to have vanished into thin air.

As the evening wore on, Madison made every effort to push all thoughts of the handsome stranger from her mind, reminding herself that she did not need romantic entanglements in her life right now. She was doing well all by herself and the last thing she needed was for some guy to come along and make her lose her focus. Despite occasional pangs of loneliness that were normal for a young woman, she rather enjoyed the time and space of living alone in the city that never sleeps.

It had only been six short months since she’d moved off of her bourgeois parents’ luxurious Southern estate and out of their reach. Leaving the drama and scandal she had caused in North Carolina behind her, she had seized the opportunity for a fresh start in the Big Apple. New York City was a metropolis of big buildings and even bigger dreams, and unlike the glove in the infamous O. J. Simpson trial, it was a perfect fit. Gone was the flowing warm brown hair that had not been cut more than a quarter of an inch since she was five years old and in its place were short, funky new locks in hair that had been dyed honey-blond. This new hairstyle was becoming, giving her buttermilk complexion a fresh, quirky look.

Since she’d landed in New York, Madison had become devoted to living a healthy lifestyle by eating right and working out three times a week at the New York Sports Club. Her naturally sexy, curvaceous frame was in tip-top form physically, which also boosted her mental and emotional states. She had never felt more motivated and ready to take charge of her destiny. Of course, she had yet to figure out what that destiny was, leaving her reliant on the monthly allowance her father sent. Her Upper East Side apartment was small, yet chicly decorated, and by subsidizing what her father gave her with work at odd jobs—ranging from dog walker to yoga instructor—she was able to live a comfortable lifestyle.

Money matters didn’t concern her, however, because she realized that she was a work in progress who had come a long way from where she once was. She was contemplating her options and even considering going back to college on a part-time basis. Admittedly, she was enjoying the relative calm of a life that did not include nightly partying, alcoholic binges and the distraction of juggling relationships like a circus trickster. That was precisely why she’d sworn off sordid affairs with men…handsome, charming men.

“How’s everyone enjoying the party?”

Madison started at the sound of that baritone voice, instantly recognizable. She felt a sudden flush in her cheeks when his strong hand landed lightly on her shoulder. She suppressed her body’s urge to tremble under his unexpected touch.

“We’re enjoying it just fine, young man. Say, aren’t you Gregory Elliott’s son?” Senator Houssman asked.

“Yes, sir, I’m Stevenson Elliott. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Senator Houssman.”

“Your father and I did some business together years ago when I was a consultant in the natural resources industry. I lived in England for over three years. Very fine man, that Gregory Elliott. Is he here tonight, son? I’d love to say hello,” the senator remarked earnestly.

“Yes, sir. He and my mother are seated right over there, with Congressman Powers.”

“Oh, yes. Excuse me, folks,” the senator said, rising and shaking Steve’s hand before departing.

Steve walked around the table, shaking hands with the men at the table and delivering compliments to the ladies who were seated there.

“Stevenson, this is our daughter, Madison. Darling, say hello,” Elmira said, her voice a tad too cheery for Madison’s tastes.

“Mother, we met earlier in the evening,” Madison answered dryly, avoiding making eye contact with Steve.

She picked up the glass in front of her, taking a long sip of the cool, sparkling water to soothe the sudden dryness that had developed in her throat.

“Yes, we have. In fact, that’s precisely why I came over to your table. I was standing across the room wondering to myself if the lovely young lady would like to join me on the dance floor. I think we’d be a perfect match to show the more mature folks how to get this party started the right way,” Steve said.

Madison looked up at him finally, glancing from his extended hand to his face. A flash of benign irritation passed through her eyes as she stared at him without speaking. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip as she thought of a tactful way to get him to leave her alone, but when his gaze fell to her mouth and he smiled seductively, she realized how suggestively her action might have been perceived.

“What a lovely idea. Go on, Madison,” Elmira encouraged, her lips spread as wide as they could possibly go without splitting her face in half.

Madison gave a slight smile, quickly putting in check the old Madison, who would have snapped her mother’s head off right in front of a roomful of people for her transparent attempt at interfering in her life and matchmaking. She took Steve’s hand and rose from her chair, allowing him to lead her out into the middle of the dance floor. The band began to play “So Amazing” by the late Luther Vandross just as Steve slid his right arm around Madison’s body, drawing her to him closely as if they had danced together a thousand times before. Madison rested the palm of her left hand on his shoulder blade, while he closed her right hand in his. His long fingers wrapped around hers tightly. In her heels she was still three or four inches shorter than him, landing the top of her forehead against his chin. A perfect fit.

“So, Madison Daniels. Pretty name for a pretty woman,” he said.

Their faces were just inches apart. Madison could feel the warmth of his breath on her nose and it made her conscious of how close their bodies were to one another, but at the same time rendered her incapable of breaking the intimacy even if she wanted to. It felt too good to sever.

“Thank you,” she said, all too aware of the erratic beat of her heart.

“No, thank you…for sparing a few moments of your precious time to dance with me,” Steve said, his voice tinged with mocking amusement.

“So, let me guess. You’re some sort of funny guy, huh?” Madison inquired. “Or so you think.”

“No, not at all. Actually, I’m usually quite serious. Some people might say that I’m extremely intense. It must be something about the romantic lighting and the festive mood in this room that has me reacting like this. Or it could just be the company I’m keeping.”

The seductive lilt to his voice was making her feel warm and causing her to be all too aware of the sensations his body against hers was creating.

“So, Mr. Elliott, when you aren’t acting out of character, what do you do?” Madison asked, attempting to steer the conversation to an area that would not cause her temperature to continue to climb.

“Well, I’m a citizen of Great Britain and back home I work with my father.”

“And what does your father do?”

“He is Chairman and CEO of the Elliott Corporation. Our business is manufacturing. But I don’t want to bore you with shop talk when I’d much rather talk about you and how striking you are.”

“I see. Well, Mr. Elliott, you’re a long ways away from Great Britain, in case you didn’t notice. I’m not sure how things are done there, but here in America, we don’t fixate on a person’s exterior because we are astute enough to realize that what lies beyond that shell, the interior, is where the treasure actually rests.”

Steve stepped away from Madison, extending his arm and spinning her around. His eyes remained trained on hers as he pulled her into his arms again.

“I noticed that I’m not in England.” He smiled. “But thank you for your tip. I’ll definitely take it to heart.”

The undertone of his comment was not lost on Madison and once again, her pulse raced.

“My parents and I are here on a vacation of sorts. We had some business in California and my mother has a dear friend who is a native New Yorker, so she convinced my father to spend a few days in the city after our business concluded. My mother’s friend, Mrs. Andrews, the widow of Congressman Andrews, invited us as her guests to tonight’s affair. We’re scheduled to return home in a few days.”

“Oh,” Madison said and was immediately embarrassed by the sound of disappointment in her tone.

“Now it’s your turn, Ms. Daniels. Your dad is a doctor, yes?”

“Yes, he is. He’s a cosmetic surgeon. My mom is a professional housewife and busybody. We’re from Charlotte, North Carolina. Ever been south?”

“Yes, I’ve been to Florida a couple of times.”

“Let me guess…West Palm Beach, right? I’m not talking about the touristy south. Have you ever been to the South? General stores, wraparound porches and sugarcane fields?”

Steve grew silent for a moment, a cloud passing over his face. Madison studied him, poising her lips to ask what was wrong. Just as quickly as it landed, however, the cloud was gone and his smile returned.

“Aah, the South. No, can’t say that I have had the pleasure. Maybe someday you will volunteer to be my tour guide to your South when you don’t have anything better to do with your time.”

“Your insolence continues to astound me, Mr. Elliott,” Madison laughed.

“I’m just a believer in the power of positive thinking, Ms. Daniels,” he said.

“Really? Well, unfortunately for you, I live here in Manhattan now.”

“That’s okay. I haven’t seen much of New York, either, since I’ve been here, so maybe you could show me around your new home.”

Steve’s last words were more of a statement than a request. He smiled that infectious smile again, warding off any attack that Madison might be inclined to make because of his presumptuous declaration. Her lips trembled as she smiled back at him, their eyes locked. It was a charged moment in which no words were necessary or available from either of them. The pounding of their heartbeats was noise enough.

In an attempt to quiet the fluttering sensation in her stomach and the throbbing in her temples, Madison rested her head against his shoulder and they silently continued to move across the floor. Several other couples had followed their lead, taking to the dance floor to move to the sound of the band. Yet, Steve and Madison failed to notice anyone else around them as they moved against one another, each getting to know and appreciate the feel and rhythm of the other. It was as if a spell had been cast over them, and quite like Cinderella and the prince at the royal ball, they were frozen in an enchanted spell. Those precious magic minutes were the stuff dreams were made of, and although neither one of them had been looking, the discovery was welcome just the same.

## Chapter 2

The abrupt flash of a photographer’s camera snatched Madison and Steve from their private thoughts, bringing them back to the crowded roomful of people, music and laughter. Before either could react, they found themselves flanked on either side by reporters and cameras.

“Madison Daniels, rumor has it that now that Felicia Worthington has withdrawn the divorce papers, you and Edward Worthington have taken it as a license to resume your relationship. Care to comment?”

Madison’s eyes were trained on the smiling, fire-enginered lipsticked mouth of the reporter who was thrusting a black microphone into her face, almost touching her nose with it.

“Wha-what?” she stuttered, unable to compose herself.

“Hey, what’s going on here? Get that thing out of her face.”

“So, Madison, does Edward Worthington know that you’ve taken up with Stevenson Elliott, son of the billionaire Gregory Elliott? Isn’t he a little young for your tastes?” the reporter persisted, her mouth twisted into a nasty sneer.

The light from the camera pointed at her by the cameraman was bright, illuminating her and the bewildered Steve. The scene quickly drew the attention of the entire room of well-appointed people.

“What are you talking about? I’m not in contact with Edward Worthington and I don’t know anything about him and his wife,” Madison stammered.

The reporter was poised to ask another question when, with the same swiftness as the woman and her crew had descended, security approached what had now turned into a melee of sorts. The band had stopped playing and every eye in the room was trained on the center of the dance floor. Steve roughly shoved the microphone away from Madison, causing the reporter to stumble backward, nearly losing her balance. The cameraman moved in, lowering his camera to his side, and Steve challenged him to make a move. The reporter stayed her guy with a hand on his arm, while Steve’s fist remained tightly balled at his side. He draped an arm protectively around the speechless Madison, and as security harshly removed the reporter and the two cameramen, Steve began moving her away from the action.

Joseph Daniels approached, yelling at either the security guards or the reporters or both; it was unclear. He followed the group out into the lobby area, his outrage at the press’ insinuation into his daughter’s privacy apparent. Steve kept his arm around Madison and was steering her in the opposite direction of security, the press and her father when his own parents intercepted them.

“Stevenson, it’s time for us to leave,” Gregory Elliott said sternly, approaching from behind them.

Steve whirled around. “Dad, I—”

“Now, Stevenson.”

Gregory Elliott was a couple of inches shorter than his son, his portly belly and balding head of graying hair indicative of his approach to middle age. Yet he had a power and a commanding nature that not many people would dare to defy.

“Dad, I’d like you to meet Madison Daniels,” Steve insisted, looking his father squarely in the face.

Reluctantly, Gregory pulled his gaze from his son, turning toward Madison for the first time. His eyes bored into her, taking her in from head to toe and back to head again.

“Ms. Daniels,” he said, by way of a greeting, his head nodding slightly.

“Mom, this is Madison,” Steve said, turning to his mother, who had just joined their circle.

“Young lady,” Janice Elliott said with her face set in a hard mask.

The ensuing chill in the air was noticeable, although the room itself was quite warm. Madison, who was slowly coming back to herself after the shock of the confrontation with the press, found her tongue again.

“Mr. and Mrs. Elliott, it is my pleasure meeting you.”

She did not wait for a response, but merely turned to focus her attention on Steve. “Steve, thank you for your help. It was very nice meeting you as well. Take care.”

With that she spun in a half circle, stepping out of Steve’s embrace. She moved quickly away from the trio, her head high and a no-nonsense swagger in her hips. She heard Steve call after her, although she pretended not to. Outside the ballroom, Madison encountered her father with the hall’s manager, who was apologizing profusely for his security having allowed the press to sneak into the affair. It turned out that the individuals were from one of the sleazy gossip rags and had managed to create a diversion outside to enable them to slip past the security guard when he was pulled away from the door.

“Dad, I’m going home,” Madison said as he approached, his face distorted with concern.

“Maddie, are you all right, dear?”

“Yes, Dad, I’m fine. I’m just going to go home and forget about this night,” Madison sighed.

“Why don’t I drive you home? I’ll have the valet get the rental and—”

“No, no, Dad. It’s okay. I’ll catch a taxi. You should get back in there with Mother. You know how she gets. I’ll stop by the hotel to see you guys Sunday afternoon before you leave, okay?”

Madison kissed her father brusquely on the cheek and moved past him, before he could protest.

Upon losing sight of Madison’s quickly retreating frame, Steve turned on his parents. “That was disgraceful. How could you guys be so rude to her—as if she’d done something to you?”

“No, son, what’s disgraceful is the scene this young lady just caused and, furthermore, pulled you into. How utterly embarrassing!” Gregory stormed.

“You don’t even know what happened,” Steve protested.

“We heard enough. Unless you’re going to tell me there’s been some sort of mistaken identity, that reporter indicated that that young lady has been caught up in some sort of sordid sex scandal. Judging from the overexposed manner in which she was dressed, I can’t say that I’m the least bit surprised. Now let’s go home.”

“I’ll catch up with you guys later,” Steve said.

With that he walked abruptly across the floor, very aware that his father had taken a few steps after him before his mother stopped him by squeezing his forearm.

Once on the street, the valet hailed a yellow taxi and within minutes of her departure from the hotel, Madison was safely ensconced in the backseat of the sedan. There was a line of departing cars ahead of them, all waiting to make their exit out onto the busy Manhattan street. She closed her eyes and ears to block out the cacophony of the world that existed outside her cab, tilting her head back against the seat as she willed the tension from her body. How long she would have to pay for the mistakes of her past she didn’t know. But what she did know was that she was tired of people looking at her as if she were damaged goods.

Her thoughts immediately traveled to Stevenson Elliott. He was one smooth operator, and there was a time in the not too distant past when she would have matched his charm and wit, tit for tat, and enjoyed every moment of it. Yet Madison realized that if she was serious about propelling her life into a direction that was far removed and decidedly different from the one it had been headed in, she could not jump to attention at the sight of every charming and good-looking man she met. Once upon a time, discretion had not been a word with which she maintained any level of familiarity, and this lack had cost her more than it had gained. If there was ever any hope of being seen for the person she truly was inside, she needed to lead a personal life that did not alert the media bloodhounds that seemed to be attracted to her like flies to cow manure.

A sudden sharp rap against the back window startled Madison. She sat upright in her seat, her eyes popping open. At first glance, all she could see was the black tuxedo jacket of a man, as the cab had resumed inching its way down the driveway toward the street. Suddenly, the body outside the taxi lowered itself and she was astonished to find the handsome face of the man she had just been willing herself not to think about smiling through the glass at her. She blinked, looked at him with a dumbfounded expression, yet made no other movement. He rapped on the window again, and then wiggled two fingers in an up-and-down motion, indicating that he wanted her to bring down the glass that separated them.

“Yes?” she asked as she pressed the lever just long enough to allow for a two-inch crack through which warm spring air brushed her forehead.

“I was wondering if we could share a cab. It’s quite busy out here,” Steve said.

“Share a cab to where?” she asked sardonically, her eyebrows a knot of genuine confusion.

“Well, I could have the driver drop you off first and then take me to my destination. Won’t you open the door or are you going to leave a poor stranded foreigner out in the cold?”

He smiled that scorching smile again, the one that could melt a frozen block of dry ice in zero-point-two seconds flat and leave it sizzling like bacon over an open flame.

“First of all,” she replied slowly, “it’s not the least bit cold out there.”

Steve’s mouth turned into a boyish pout, and that look was twice as deadly as his smile. Madison could not stop the laughter that bubbled up from her stomach and spilled from her lips. She clicked the lock and slid to her left to allow room.

“Boy, are all American woman as immovable as you?” Steve asked once he was securely inside the vehicle.

“Don’t start or you’ll be bounced back out of this taxi and onto the pavement so fast that your visitor’s visa will feel the shock!” Madison warned.

Steve held up two fingers in the peace sign, beaming warmly at her.

“I find it amazing that for such a little thing, you move very fast! I ran out after you and barely caught a glimpse of those beautiful legs as you slid into the taxi. Another five seconds and I would have missed you completely.”

“Steve, what do you want from me?” Madison asked.

The old Madison would have had something twice as coy and cultured to say, but at this point, as engaging as this tall, dark and handsome man was, she was not in the mood. After the outrage of her encounter with the press, the cold shoulder she’d received from Mr. and Mrs. Elliott and the enraged outburst of her father, she’d had enough for one night. She was tired and annoyed.

“Why do you automatically assume that I want something from you?”

“That’s because most men do want something, especially the wild ones who chase women out into the street.”

“Touché. Okay, I do want something from you. I’d like an hour of your company—just one hour to be spent over coffee perhaps. I’d like to talk to you and listen to you and have a mere sixty minutes more of the pleasure I find in being in your presence.”

Just when Madison had believed that at the age of twenty-five she had heard every line from every guy, had memorized the instruction manual of the quintessential player trying to play her and could never again be caught off guard by anything, Stevenson Elliott entered her taxi and threw her completely off balance. This was especially true because of the fact that somehow she instinctively knew that the words he had just spoken were authentic and not just those of a smooth-talking Mac dropping sweet lines to hook some fresh catch.

## Chapter 3

Sixty minutes turned into six hours. Those six hours were spent at a tall, round table for two, tucked in a back corner of a twenty-four-hour café sipping lattes and picking at powdered, sugar-frosted scones. Their conversation was slow and easy, straying from random subjects with the agility that usually came with time but had somehow been mastered by them instantaneously. Madison found Steve surprisingly candid, as he talked about his family and childhood. In addition, he was also as keen to listen to her speak as he was to talk himself, and she got the impression that he was genuinely interested in hearing her speak as opposed to simply trying to earn brownie points.

“I’ve been to England a few times myself…with my family. We visited London, of course, Buckinghamshire and Oxford. When my sister Kennedy was in high school she even entertained the idea of applying to the university there. I was struck by the beauty of the country, but I could never imagine living there. I mean, it was rainy most of the time we were there and the temperatures pretty much stayed the same all of the time. Have you ever thought about living somewhere else?” Madison inquired.

“Well, it’s not all that bad. I mean, it’s got a mixture of different types of people, great beautiful natural sights and besides, we’ve got two awesome football teams. I mean, it’s no New York City, but it’s nice.”

“I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t mean to trash your homeland. I was just wondering aloud. I tend to open my mouth wide and stick my foot in it sometimes before I realize what I’m saying or to whom I’m saying it.”

“No, please don’t apologize. To answer your question, I have thought about living somewhere else. You see, I was not actually born in England.”

“Oh, no?” Madison asked, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

Steve’s clipped British accent was as authentic as any she’d ever heard. Secretly, the lilt of his words and the velvet cadence of his voice had already begun to do something to her. She found it hard to believe that he’d ever spoken any other language or dialect, so perfect was his intonation of the king’s language.

“No. I was born in the West Indies—St. Elizabeth, Jamaica, to be exact,” he confessed.

“I would never have guessed that,” Madison responded. “Do you visit home often?”

A noticeable shift in Steve’s relaxed features occurred and his eyes filled with something she could not discern, but could not deny existed. “Well, no, I haven’t been to Jamaica since I was five years old. It’s a long story, but once my parents made England our home, we pretty much left our earlier lives behind.”

Madison regarded Steve quietly, taking a long sip from her coffee. Though she’d only known him for a matter of hours, she could tell that the thing that cast a shadow over his words as he spoke about his birthplace was a profound sense of loss. As she didn’t know him well enough to push for more, she just reached across the table and placed her hand over the one of his that had absently begun drumming on the table.

“I know a little something about leaving the past behind. Sometimes that’s what you have to do in order to make way for a better future,” she said softly.

Their eyes met and held, and the flurry of emotions between them was combustible. Madison’s butter-pecan cheeks flamed, bringing color to her face and a glisten to her eyes.

“Someday you’ll have to tell me what that whole thing with the reporters was about,” he said at long last.

“Steve—” Madison began to protest.

Steve shook his head vehemently, cutting her off.

“I didn’t say today…someday, perhaps. Someday when you’ve grown to know me and to trust me with all of you,” he interrupted.

“What makes you so sure we’re headed toward that day?” Madison asked.

“I believe in fate, Madison. I do not believe that there are accidental meetings or chance phenomena. People come into your life for a reason. You are confronted with various situations for a purpose. Sometimes, we choose to ignore those signs…maybe because we’re afraid or because we believe that what we’ve planned for ourselves is the only avenue that we should travel. However, I’ve learned to accept what is presented to me, knowing that God would not put anything before me that is not meant for me to have.”

“Are you a religious man?” Madison asked.

“I like to think that I’m in touch with my spiritual self. When I was little, my parents and I attended Mass every Sunday bright and early. I took communion, listened to the word of God and did all the things a good little Catholic boy was supposed to do. Yet, I don’t think it was until college that I really began to understand what I’d been reading and hearing all of my life. Now I don’t go to church much, but I know that there is one ruler, one entity whose mercy directs all things great and small. I also know that the responsibility lies within me to live a good life and follow my purpose. What about you? Are you a good little church girl?”

“Me? Well, like you, I was raised going to church. Say your prayers, repent for your sins and honor your parents. I don’t think I ever really felt a connection to God though. I mean, believing in something is one thing but trusting in it to govern your life is something entirely different.”

Steve placed his other hand over Madison’s, smiling at her. “You have a hard time with trusting, don’t you?”

“What makes you say that?” Madison asked defensively.

They held each other’s gaze for a moment before they both erupted into side-splitting laughter.

“All right, so you might be right. But, in my defense, there are a lot of people out in the world who don’t mean you any good. You can’t trust everybody you come across. For all I know, you could be a mass murderer, wanted all across England for accosting women in taxis and dismembering them,” Madison laughed.

“For that matter, so could you. In fact, I do think I’ve seen a Wanted poster with a woman who bore a striking resemblance to you. Let me get a good look at you.”

Steve leaned closer, his chest resting against the edge of the round table that separated them. “Mmm-hmm—a perfect match.”

“What am I wanted for?”

“The charge was breaking hearts in the first degree. I think I’m going to make a phone call to see if they’re still offering a reward for your capture,” he said.

“Oh, like you need reward money. The Elliott Corporation is one of the highest-grossing corporations in this century,” she said.

“So, what does that mean?”

“That means you’re loaded. Oh, I’m sorry, was that supposed to be a secret?”

“Let me correct you—my dad is loaded. The Elliott Corporation is his baby, not mine. Yes, I work for him, and yes, he’d like me to take over the business one day. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure if that’s what I want.”

“I see. Well, feel free to correct me again if I’m wrong, but your dad doesn’t seem like the type of man who’s going to let his son go off and find himself as opposed to taking his place at the helm of the family business. Just an observation,” she said.

Steve smiled a half smile and leaned back in his chair. “You’re not wrong, but I guess we’ll just wait and see what happens, huh?”

As the sun began to come up on the horizon, lighting up the never-sleeping, but quieter than normal streets of Manhattan, Steve insisted on sharing Madison’s taxi uptown to her apartment on East Seventy-fourth Street. They sat shoulder to shoulder, quietly enjoying the short ride. When they arrived, Steve paid the driver to wait while he walked Madison to the building’s door.

“I’d like to see you again,” he said softly.

They were facing each other, the fingers of their hands locked together. Once again, Madison’s faced felt flushed as she looked up into warm brown eyes. “When are you leaving town?”

“In a few days. Can I see you tonight?”

The urgency in his voice mirrored the feeling that had come over her. She struggled to recapture the common sense that had seemed to escape her mind from the moment she’d met Stevenson Elliott, but it was no use. She was under a spell and breaking it simply was not in her power at this point.

“Tonight?” She echoed his words as she stalled for time to get her mouth to say what the nagging voice in the back of her mind was telling her to say.

“Yes, tonight. You call the shots. Anytime you say. Anywhere you say. I just want to see you again,” Steve said forcefully.

The earnestness in his voice caused her resolve to melt instantly and the voice of doubt was bound, gagged and shoved in the back of a closet.

“Eight o’clock?” she asked.

“Eight o’clock. I’ll be here to pick you up.”

Steve seemed relieved as he accepted her concession to his request. He searched her face, as if wanting to memorize every inch of it in case he never had the opportunity to see her again.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Madison said, reassuring him.

Steve leaned forward, grazing his lips ever so lightly across Madison’s left cheek, and walked away. Her hand rose, her fingers landing on the spot he’d kissed, which was warm and tingling.

## Chapter 4

Madison tossed an olive-colored blouse across the bed, changing her mind for the eighth time in the past hour. After spending all night with Steve, Madison had come back to her apartment, showered and lain across her bed. Unable to sleep, however, she’d gotten up after an hour, donned her workout gear and walked the three blocks to the gym where she worked out daily and taught yoga classes. All through the vigorous workout she undertook, her mind replayed the previous night. She could not believe that one chance meeting had upset the balance of her life so much. Steve Elliott had left an indelible mark on her, which was not an easy feat.

She decided to stop thinking about what had happened and pondering the implications of it. After spending hours contemplating the impact that this man had had on her, she concluded that all she needed to do was to live in the moment and enjoy herself. It was not exactly as if this was a foreign concept for her, for Madison had lived her entire adult life following this approach. However, in the months since she’d relocated to New York City, she’d purposely shed her former attitude and now allowed reason and consideration of all angles to guide her. She didn’t want to be known as the fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants woman she’d been known as. Yet she also knew that unlike many of her past escapades, passing some time with Steve would not prove detrimental to her. Steve was a good guy with whom she’d crossed paths and shared a connection unlike any other she’d ever experienced. Why not take pleasure in it for as long as it lasted?

With that thought in mind, she settled on an orange miniskirt and an ivory halter top patterned with thin pink and orange stripes. After a hot bath, she freshened up a three-day-old pedicure and curled up on the sofa with a magazine. She turned page after page, unable to focus on the fashions before her because of a severe case of distraction. Steve’s face kept flashing before her eyes, his sexy smile and seductive voice running freely through her imagination. She chided herself for allowing her mind to run away with her senses over a guy she’d just met, but there was something so alluringly different about Steve that she could not help herself. She dozed and found that visions of him ran through her dreams. By the time he arrived to pick her up for their date, she was filled with a heady excitement that carried her on air down the stairs.

“What would you like to do tonight?” Steve asked as he held open the passenger door of a rented Mercedes.

“I don’t know. It’s such a beautiful night…let’s do something outdoors. Oh, I know. We can drive down to the South Street Seaport. There’s always something going on down there,” Madison answered excitedly.

“South Street Seaport it is. You’re going to have to direct me though.”

Madison settled into the soft leather seat and they meandered through city traffic. Their conversation and laughter flowed like syrup over a stack of hot pancakes, their words sticking in all the right places. Steve parked on the corner of Fulton Street and they walked slowly toward Pier Seventeen on South Street, the cool breeze, coming from the direction of the water, caressing their faces.

“So, Madison Daniels, you’ve never told me what a country girl such as yourself is doing here in the big city, all alone and on your own. Don’t tell me it’s that same sad cliché?”

“Which one is that?”

“The one about the girl who came here chasing some guy, found out he was a cross-dresser and it didn’t work out,” Steve laughed.

Madison dipped a celery stick into the bowl of blue cheese dressing that had come with her order of buffalo wings. They were seated at Uno’s, one of the cafes located on the upstairs outer deck of the food court, a view of the water and small dinner boats to their left. The lights of the shops and boats along the water sparkled more brilliantly tonight, it seemed, although the real illumination that engulfed them had nothing to do with the scenery.

“Ha!” Madison exploded. “Do you honestly think that I’d ever chase a guy somewhere? Hmph, I guess you’ve got a lot to learn about me, Mr. Elliott.”

“Nah, I was just teasing. I know that you are the pursuee, not the pursuer. You enjoy having men crumble at your feet while you look down upon them, laugh and then grind your stilettos into their tortured hearts.”

Steve leaned forward and wiped a spot of blue cheese from the corner of Madison’s mouth. His touch was so gentle that for a moment she lost all train of thought.

“I think you watch too many movies. I’m not at all the femme fatale you’re making me out to be. But to answer your question, no, I didn’t come to New York chasing anyone. I guess you could say I was looking for someone.”

“Who?”

Madison studied the lights shimmering on the water for a moment before returning her gaze to Steve’s face. She didn’t know why she was talking so much to someone that twenty-four hours ago she hadn’t even known existed. She was not a talker, not by a long shot, but maybe she had been waiting all of her life for the right person to talk to.

“Me,” she said at last.

Steve nodded his head slowly, understanding registering on his handsome face as if he, too, had been waiting for the right person to talk to about the things that were going on inside him. At that moment the connection between the two of them was undeniable and, furthermore, neither of them wanted to even try to pretend that something unexpected yet amazing had not occurred in their meeting.

Steve reached out and stayed the hand that Madison was using to feed another piece of celery into her mouth. He leaned forward and when his lips found hers, her breath caught in her throat. Soft pliable lips pressed against hers with a tenderness that was so marked that it was more passionate than even the most ardent and lustful kiss she’d ever shared with anyone. He withdrew slowly, his smile that of a bashful adolescent. From that moment on, they both knew that they had innocently stumbled upon a situation that neither would be able to walk away from unchanged.

## Chapter 5

“Stevenson, what do you mean you are not ready to go home? You know your father has a lot on his plate right now with the expansion. He’s already spent more time in the States than he could afford to take, just to indulge our pleas for a family holiday.”

“I know that, Mother, but that doesn’t have anything to do with me,” Steve answered.

“Nothing to do with you? Nothing to do…Correct me if I’m wrong, son, but don’t you work for your father? Of course it has everything to do with you.” Janice Elliott huffed as she considered her son’s serious countenance and his earnest request. She resealed the designer duffel bag that she had just closed for the second time as she stuffed yet another toiletry in the already full carrier. They’d bought two extra pieces of luggage in order to accommodate her shopping expenditures, and she feared that she would still not have enough room. She’d been considering the possibility that she’d have to have the hotel ship some of her belongings when Steve had knocked at their Waldorf Astoria suite door.

Another look at her son and Janice realized that this conversation would require her complete attention. Their flight to London was scheduled for an eight o’clock departure the next morning and she had already done most of the packing for herself and her husband, who was in the bedroom of their suite at the posh hotel taking a conference call. Janice stopped her packing, sighed and sat down on the edge of an ottoman.

“I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant that…Well, you and I both know that Dad can handle things for the time being without me,” Steve said at length.

He moved across the room and sat down on the sofa. Janice eyed her son, her only child, marveling at the fine young man he’d become, which was a behavior she’d found herself engaging in more and more often recently. He was slightly taller than his father, having inherited her side of the family’s stature. His chestnut-brown skin matched Gregory’s, and he shared the same powerful features. She watched as her son matched the tips of his long fingers together, pressing each hand against the other, something he always did when he was thinking or pressed by some urgent decision. Janice’s brow wrinkled as she realized that her son had something very important on his mind. She moved closer to him, taking a seat beside him on the sofa.

“What’s going on, Stevenson?” she asked.

“There’s nothing going on, Mother. I just want to spend some more time here in the States. Look, I know that Dad’s got a lot going on and I understand why you guys need to get back right away. But, Mother, I’ve been working day in and day out since I finished at the university. I need a little break.”

“Isn’t this a little sudden, son? I mean, you haven’t mentioned anything about wanting to take some time off before. Why now?” Janice pressed, wanting her son to confide in her the way he used to.

“There’s no specific reason. We’re here in New York City and it’s a great city. I just thought I could take a few more days…perhaps a week or two to get to see more of it. Take in some shows, a couple of basketball games at the Garden…you know. Look, I’ll be back at home and at work before Dad even misses me. Come on, Mother, what do you say?”

“Well, Stevenson, you’re a grown man. You certainly don’t need my permission,” Janice replied.

“I know that, Mother, but I want it just the same.”

“No, what you want is for me to soften the request to your father,” Janice countered.

She knew her son well and she also knew that like her, he was well aware of his father’s demanding nature.

“All right. I was thinking that Dad would be less likely to flip out if you were on my side,” Steve admitted. “You know that you have a way with him. So what do you say?” Steve said, nudging his mother’s thigh with his leg.

Janice grinned as she looked into her son’s face, never having been able to resist that infectious Elliott smile of either her child or his father. She’d gladly take the brunt of Gregory’s discord if it meant sparing Stevenson the same.

“Oh, all right,” she said. “But you’ll have to make your own arrangements. We’re not paying for you to keep your suite here. It’s an expense that isn’t necessary, considering the amount of time you’ve actually spent indoors. Where will you stay?”

“That’s already taken care of. I got a room at the Crowne Plaza near the United Nations building. It’s right here in the heart of Midtown and it’s a whole lot cheaper than this place.”

“Oh, you have?” Janice said, eyeing her son suspiciously. “Well, I guess you’ve thought this all through. All right, well, make sure you contact the travel agent, Elaine, and have her reissue your return flight ticket. And when exactly will that be?”

“I’ll call you in a few days, Mother, and let you know. Listen, you and Dad have a safe trip and I’ll talk to you soon,” Steve said, kissing his mother swiftly on the cheek before jumping up from the sofa.

“Aren’t you going to wait to speak with your father?” Janice called as he began making his way toward the door.

“Oh, you know he’s going to be on the phone with those Wesco guys for at least another hour. I’ve got to get going…I have plans for tonight. Don’t worry, I’ve already packed my belongings. You can just have the bellhop leave my bags with the concierge and I’ll pick them up tomorrow. Love you, Mother,” Steve said.

With that, he was gone, leaving a puzzled Janice staring after the closed door of the hotel suite, wondering just what had gotten into her son. She also wondered exactly what he meant by a cheaper hotel, hoping that he hadn’t checked in to some economy dive.

She slipped into a reverie of a time that didn’t seem so far away. When she was her son’s age, her life had been difficult at best. She and Gregory struggled to make ends meet while getting his business off the ground. Janice remembered the early days vividly. She’d given birth to her only child when she and Gregory still lived in a tiny two-room flat that lacked indoor plumbing in the rural farmlands of Jamaica. Both she and Gregory had been raised in the countryside of St. Elizabeth. Gregory was a couple of years older than her, but their families had attended the same ramshackle church where they’d played together as children. Both she and her sister Claudia had carried crushes on Gregory Elliott all through grade school, but it was Janice who’d won his heart.

Janice always knew that Gregory would be successful. She would sit and listen to him talk for hours about how he was going to get out of the country, out of Jamaica and live a good life. As the youngest of five children in a Seventh Day Adventist family led by a hardworking but indebted farming couple, Gregory had dreamed of a life far removed from the one he’d known. He was sorely embarrassed by his family’s lack, even though all of their neighbors, and the entire town for that matter, were no better off. Gregory became an exceptional student and a determined young man. He had done whatever was necessary to become the success he always knew he could be, and she’d supported him in every way she knew how. Janice supported him emotionally and physically as he earned, bribed and brown-nosed his way into a successful career after starting out in the natural resources manufacturing and trade business in Jamaica.

By the time Steve turned five years old, Gregory had relocated to England and brought his family over after a six-month separation, leaving the poverty behind. In doing so, they’d also gladly severed all ties to their shameful beginnings. Gregory made every one of his and Janice’s dreams come true, and she was proud to know that their son would have options and opportunities that they had only dreamed of when they were his age. She’d always reasoned that someday there would be retribution for the things they’d done, but she never let that certainty deter her. One of her greatest joys was the knowledge that her son would never have to work as hard as his father had worked. He would never have to sacrifice the way they’d had to. Most importantly to her, his conscience would never be burdened by sins of the past the way hers was. As heir to the Elliott Corporation, one of the largest import/export companies in England, Stevenson was assured of his future.

Janice smiled again as she thought of her son. She realized that he did deserve a little time off, as he had always worked hard and lived up to every expectation they held for him, even when he was just a little boy. Soon enough it would be time for him to take over more of his father’s operations and settle down to begin a family of his own. She looked forward to the day when she and Gregory could sit back and enjoy the fruits of their labors. She’d already begun planning the trips abroad she’d wanted to take and the extended excursions she’d always dreamed of. Janice could not imagine having a more perfect life and had no doubts that it would continue to just get sweeter.

## Chapter 6

“This place reminds me of the nightclubs back home in England,” Steve shouted over the loud, pulsing house music that boomed from every corner of the dimly lit room.

They were on the upper floor of Webster Hall, a trendy dance club located on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. It was housed inside an old warehouse on one of the lower-numbered streets in a diverse neighborhood. The cavernous club contained room after room of eclectic décor and varying musical stylings.

“This is only my second time coming here, and I still can’t get enough. You’ve got every type of person in here from rocker to hip-hop heads and everything in between. It’s wild,” Madison shouted back over the din of the music and voices.

They’d spent the past few days around the city. Steve professed that he wanted to see every inch of New York City and, despite the fact that Madison was a recent transplant herself, he appointed her his personal tour guide. They’d gone to the Empire State Building in midtown Manhattan, Flushing Meadow Park in Queens and various other points of interest in and around the five boroughs. Tonight, Madison had felt like dancing.

The couple made their way to the bar, where Steve ordered two Coronas. They sipped their beers in silence, gazing at the variety of New Yorkers who circled the room. The same-sex couples mixed and mingled with the straight ones, while the preppie college kids shared drinks with the Bohemian old-heads.

When a gorgeous blonde approached them and began chatting Madison up, Steve stared in wide-eyed wonder as the woman made a blatant pass at his companion as if he weren’t standing there. Steve had never considered himself the jealous or insecure type, but he had to acknowledge that the woman was striking and, hey, this was the new millennium. It occurred to him that he didn’t know enough about Madison to know specifically what she was in to and decided he wasn’t about to take any chances. He placed a defensive arm around Madison’s waist and pulled her to the dance floor. Madison’s admirer followed them with burning eyes for a while before moving on in search of a new conquest.

“Well, Mr. Elliott, let’s see what kind of moves you’ve got. Now you know this isn’t ballroom dancing. I hope you can keep up,” Madison teased.

“I’ve got moves, baby, believe that,” he stated with the self-assuredness that she had grown used to hearing from him.

The beat pulsed loudly in their ears, sucking them into it as their bodies moved against one another. They danced through song after song, laughing and teasing as they grew familiar with the movement of each other’s bodies. Steve looked down at Madison, captivated by the sexiness of her frame as much as by the femininity she exuded without even trying. The skirt she wore exposed legs that held a promise that could not be denied. He ran his hands up and down her diminutive waist, settling on her hips, which were swaying against him at a melodic tempo.

Their bodies met, finding a comfortable space to claim as their own. The lights zipped across the dance floor, flashing on her golden skin, now covered with a thin layer of perspiration, and Steve realized that he had never met a woman whom he found more alluring. His arousal as they danced grew from deep inside and by the time it became a physical wanting, it was larger than the room itself. Their eyes locked and held as they both became aware of the desire that was building between them. Steve ran his hand across the soft locks that framed her face, delighting in the texture and feel of them against his skin. Steve’s desire to kiss her, to taste her mouth and tongue, was stronger than any other urge he’d ever felt. Cupping her face in his hands and moving in slow motion, he bent his head toward hers and found a sweet mouth waiting in anticipation for him. His tongue tentatively pried its way in between her lips, making contact with her tongue in an almost timid fashion. She opened her mouth wider, allowing him deeper access, and he responded by giving her all of his tongue. Their kiss engaged every bit of their oral cavities, as they drew one another in to completely discover their essences.

Forgetting time and space, the gyrating bodies around them became a distant memory, they moved to a place in their minds that was far removed from anything recognizable. Their ragged breathing was louder in their ears than the music, and everyone else in the room seemed to disappear at once, leaving them alone within their passion. The probing exploration of their tongues spurred them to greater desire until finally Steve pulled away, unable to take one more second of tortured provocation. He wanted to get her alone, and it was that single thought that drove him silently through the throngs of people and out onto the street.

Leaving the club arm in arm, they maintained the electrifying connection that had exploded between them. Madison settled against Steve’s side as they drove back uptown to her place. With her eyes closed, she replayed the images of the two of them together, still warm from the heat their bodies had generated on the dance floor. When Steve found an empty parking spot right outside Madison’s building, it was she who wordlessly took him by the hand and led him up the stairs to her third-story apartment.

They stood just inside the entryway of her apartment, staring at one another in the thick darkness. They both recognized the importance of their next steps and as they weighed the implications in their minds, they were overwhelmingly aware of the current that connected them. Somehow, Madison found the presence of mind to pause, a task that was equally difficult and unwanted.

“Are we moving too fast?” Madison asked at last, looking into Steve’s eyes.

“Yes, we are,” he answered truthfully, as he moved closer to her, still compelled to be near her.

Steve, like many young men of his age, had had his share of casual affairs. Yet he knew, without fully understanding why, that Madison could not be classified in that way. There would be no way that he could share her bed and just walk away, because she had already infected his heart in a way that no woman had ever managed to do. For her part, Madison was not a virgin and did not possess any virginlike ideals that made her desirous of resisting her sexuality or her body’s longings. However, she was also aware that Steve had gotten under her skin, and sharing her body with him would not come without strings and entanglements. Neither could pretend that the feelings they were caught up in were not incredibly intense and moving.

“We probably should think this through,” she whispered, her lips brushing across his as she spoke.

“Probably,” he agreed, his hand kneading the small of her back softly. “Madison, I want you…badly,” Steve laughed.

“Me, too.”

“This is so difficult!” Steve exclaimed. “Look, I don’t get what’s going on here, but I just feel like it’s too important to mess it up by rushing things.”

“And sometimes sex does just that,” Madison agreed.

As much as they wanted to take their desire to a higher level, the intimacy between them was compelling enough without an act of sexual intercourse. They paused to allow logic to take up a space in the midst of their excitement and found the consolation to be just as sweet as the first place prize when they spent the night fully clothed, snuggled against one another on Madison’s brushed-cotton, oversized sofa. They talked until they feel asleep, and when they awoke in each other’s arms, the satisfaction that washed over them made them both realize that they could not have felt more complete than they did by just being in one another’s presence.

That languid bubble of tranquility was unexpectedly burst the following morning, however, when the New York Post’s gossip column featured a picture of them leaving the club the night before, arm in arm, with a caption beneath it that read, “Has Madison Daniels finally snagged herself a well-appointed Prince Charming?”

The columnist went on to report that this was the second known sighting of Madison and Stevenson Elliott, son of English billionaire Gregory Elliott.

“Do you believe this crap?” Madison spewed angrily.

“Perhaps you want to tell me over breakfast why the press is so fascinated with you?” Steve asked gently after he’d read the article that Madison had dropped on his lap.

Madison slid down onto the sofa beside him. “Look, me and the media have had a little love/hate thing going on for the past couple of years—they love to stay in my business, and I despise the wombs they came out of. Those people are animals and for some reason, they seem to find my little boring life of major interest, go figure.”

“Somehow I doubt there is anything boring about your life,” Steve said.

“Yeah, well, be that as it may, it just kills me that when a man dates and is linked to noteworthy women, he’s this year’s eligible bachelor. When it’s the other way around, the woman’s called every kind of gold-digging whore in the book.”

“I agree. There’s definitely a double standard, and I don’t care what side of the globe you’re on. But, in all fairness, the media only report on what people want to know, so don’t blame them because we live in a society that is nosy and filthy-minded. And speaking of filthy…”

Steve tugged at the top of the tank top Madison wore. She smacked his hand.

“Seriously, Steve. I don’t know if it’s such a good idea that you and I be seen in public again. I mean, if this crap gets back to England, your parents might be a little, well, put off.”

“Put off about what? That I’ve met a beautiful woman and am having the time of my life getting to know her?” Steve asked as he traced Madison’s collarbone with two fingers.

“How about the fact that you’re spending time with a woman who the press likes to spy on and paint to be some sort of strumpet who’s out to trick him out of his family’s fortune?”

“In that case, come here, my little strumpet,” Steve said, pulling Madison across his body. “Let me teach you a lesson about stealing, you naughty girl.”

Steve closed his mouth over hers, cutting off any further protests she could make.

## Chapter 7

“This is a nice hotel, but you’ve got a really crappy view,” Madison said as she peered out of the fourteenth-floor window of Steve’s hotel room.

He’d invited her to have dinner in with him that evening in acquiescence to her desire to keep their business out of the papers. A quiet evening indoors and out of the public eye was extremely appealing to both of them.

Steve moved to her side and looked through the glass himself. His room faced a parking garage and an office building. Looking to the left, he was afforded a partial view of the Times Square area, the lights from Broadway already brilliantly lighting up the street.

“Good thing it wasn’t the view of New York City that I stayed in town for,” he mused, having turned his attention away from the window and refocused it on the breathtaking woman standing beside him.

Madison smiled up at him, still amazed to find herself tingling under his gaze. It had been two weeks since they’d met and she was getting to believe that no matter how much time passed, she would still be as flattered by his considerate and charming nature as she was now.

“Are you ready for dinner?” he asked.

“Uh-uh,” Madison answered as she moved closer to him.

She had an irresistible urge to kiss him and dinner would just have to wait until she satisfied that compulsion. She tilted her head, her lips angled a couple of inches away from his. When their mouths met, she felt her body tremble quietly. Her mouth opened to his probing tongue, and warmth spread through her entire body. Tentatively, yet expertly, he explored her mouth, breathing her in until she filled all of his senses. The thickness of his lips as she nibbled and tasted them caused her breath to catch in her throat while the heat of his tongue as it danced with hers sent an electric current straight down to the center of her taut abdomen.

Madison had kissed many men in her lifetime, but could honestly say that she had never been kissed so thoroughly and completely as Steve kissed her. She’d experienced passion and lust, she’d thrown herself with reckless abandoned into physical encounters and, while finding physical satisfaction, she realized now that the intimacy of a simple kiss with Steve far outweighed any of that. She lost herself inside his mouth, sank into his arms and discovered it was a restorative and peaceful place to be.

When their lips finally parted, Steve continued to hold her in his arms, her body resting against his as they stood in front of a window with a partial view of Manhattan. The serenity that settled over them made them both realize that what had begun as a chance meeting and an instant attraction had quickly morphed into something more profound than either had ever experienced before.

“I want to make love to you, Madison,” Steve said, breaking the silence that had enveloped them.

“I hear a but in your voice,” she responded.

Madison’s heart raced because she’d already expected this moment, anticipated it, even. She felt the same way, a desire to share on a physical level what was developing on an emotional level. However, for the first time, she’d met someone and sexual curiosity was not the most pressing thing for her.

“But I’m not sure if we should. I mean, I want to. Don’t get me wrong, I really, really want to,” Steve laughed.

“Really?” Madison joked.

“Really, really,” Steve reiterated. “I just…I’ve got to be honest with you.”

“About what? Please don’t tell me you’ve got a wife and three kids back in England, ’ cause that’s the last thing I need to hear in my life at this point,” she said half-jokingly.

“Of course not. I’m single and unattached…no girlfriend, wife. Nothing like that. Actually, I haven’t even been on a date in the past couple of months. It’s just that, well, Madison, I’ve never felt like this before. I mean, these past two weeks have been incredible. Being here with you, it just totally caught me off guard, and I feel like I don’t know whether I’m coming or going.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Do you?”

“Of course. Steve, you’re definitely not out here on your own. I wasn’t expecting this and after the last crazy couple of years I had, I certainly wasn’t looking to hook up with anyone. But this is so different. With you I feel like I can just be myself and be however crazy, goofy or silly I feel like being. I don’t have to be what my parents expect, I don’t have to live up to what the media think about me and I don’t have to give a damn about what my friends or anyone else asks of me. This has been so nice, but…” Madison’s voice trailed off.

“But you think it has to end,” Steve finished for her.

“Doesn’t it? I mean, you have a life in England. I’m here trying to get my life together. You have obligations to keep. I mean, we just met. We’re practically strangers.”

Madison moved away from Steve, needing to distance herself from feelings that had come on too strong too soon. She stopped in front of the television, where some ridiculous commercial about a goat and a soft drink was playing.

“You don’t feel like a stranger to me,” Steve said as he watched her from his vantage point by the window.

The sincerity in his voice forced Madison to turn to face him. His face was an open book, free for her to read in his warm-brown eyes and sensual lips an emotion that was greater than lust and infatuation.

“You feel like home to me,” he added softly.

Steve walked across the room to Madison, taking both of her hands in his. She allowed him to guide her to the top of the double bed, her body at his command as he lay down and pulled her with him. He leaned his back against the pillows, his arms around her, and she laid her head on his chest, listening to the sound of his breathing. Wrapped in a cocoon isolated from the outside world, they felt free to be real with each other.

“I don’t know how to explain what I am feeling right now and I don’t even really understand it, but it’s like I was looking for something or needing something and all of a sudden I don’t feel that need anymore,” Steve said softly.

“It’s scary how connected I feel to you already, Steve,” Madison admitted. “I think I’ve been looking for something, too, without even knowing it.”

They fell silent, alone with their thoughts yet sharing an emotion that was bigger than both of them. A long while later Steve spoke, his meditation having taken him to a place deep inside in his soul.

“When I was a little boy, maybe four or five, I remember sitting on my grandmother’s rocker on the veranda of her house. Grandma’s house was old like most of the houses in the countryside of Jamaica where we lived. You know, outhouses and open-air cooking.”

“Hmm,” Madison said.

“Grandma was standing over the cooking fire making cornmeal porridge in a big metal pot that was situated on a metal grate and held up on a pile of big rocks. She had on a floral house dress and these tattered brown sandals. I had been helping Grandpa tie the livestock out in the hills like we did every morning and was sitting down to catch my breath. I started telling her how Uncle Nevel had promised to take me fishing at Alligator Pond early the next morning. I bragged and bragged about how I was going to catch the biggest fish of all, bigger even than the one Uncle Nevel had caught the week before, and I was going to bring it back to her to cook it up for dinner.”

Steve paused, and stared out into space for a moment. Madison waited, stroking the back of his hand gently.

“When Grandma turned around, her face was wet. She was smiling at me, but tears were streaming down her face. I went over to her. I was only four but my head already reached Grandma’s chin. I remember asking her if she wanted to go fishing with us…if that’s why she was crying. That question made her laugh out loud. She had a soft tinkling laugh. She laughed and hugged me, rocking me against her body. I was so confused. But then she told me that no matter what happened, no matter how far away I went or how big I got, I would always be her best lickle pickney…her favorite little child.”

Madison looked up at Steve, saw the tear that had formed in the corner of his left eye. His face was pained and she wanted to ask why, but she also wanted to give him the space and time to tell his story the way he needed to.

“She sat down in the rocker and held me on her lap, telling me all the while that I was getting too big to sit all over her like that.”

Steve fingered one of the twists of hair that covered Madison’s head. “Grandma had worn dreadlocks, too, but hers were long and thick from years of growing. I started playing with her hair like I always did and she just held me, bouncing me up and down on her knee and staring down at me like she was trying to capture me in her mind.

“Two days later, my dad came back from a trip to England and a few days after that my parents and I left Jamaica. I didn’t know it at the time, but that would be the last time I saw my grandmother. We left our warm, sunny island where I spent long days chasing butterflies and swimming in the creek and we moved to England. Everybody I’d spent my childhood with—my grandmother, my grandfather, uncles, aunts and a dozen cousins—were left behind. I spoke to Grandma by phone a couple of times…on her birthday and Christmas, you know? I always asked her when she was coming to visit and she kept saying that she didn’t like to fly.”

“Why didn’t you guys ever go back to Jamaica?” Madison asked.

“I don’t know,” Steve said, chewing on the question as if its answer was the secret to the universe. “My parents always made up excuses when I asked. They were too busy with the business. It wasn’t the right time. And no one could come to visit us because we didn’t have space for them at first. Eventually, I guess when they thought I was old enough, they told me that our relatives were better off in Jamaica. They said that they could never fit in with our new, prosperous lives in England. I didn’t understand this philosophy of theirs until much later on in life. It seemed the wealthier we became, the less we associated with anyone who was Jamaican. My parents made sure I lost my accent quickly, and essentially, we cut all ties with that part of our heritage. We became English citizens and that was that.”

“That’s terrible,” Madison said, thinking of her own parents and their separatist ways.

“For a long time, I’ve wondered why I allowed them to do that to me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those people who you see on those daytime talk shows talking about their horrible upbringings and neglectful parents. I mean, I had a great childhood. I had privileges that most kids only dream about. I went to good schools and traveled to exotic places. But part of me always felt guilty when I thought about the family we’d left back in Jamaica. Life can be hard in the islands.”

“Steve, you were a child. How could you possibly have done anything to change the situation?”

“Not then, but as I got older…in my teen years. I should have done something. When Grandma died, we didn’t even go to the funeral.”

The broken expression on Steve’s face caused Madison to want to capture him completely in her arms and kiss his wounds away.

“How long ago did she pass away?” she asked softly.

“I was sixteen. I remember my parents were planning a holiday, and I suggested that we go to Jamaica. They scoffed at that idea. I’d started asking questions about Jamaica and the family back there and that’s when my father told me that there wasn’t much family left. He said it almost matter-of-factly. Maybe five or six months later, we received a phone call…I think it was from one of my father’s brothers. Grandma had passed in her sleep at the age of seventy-two. I thought we would go to the funeral, but we didn’t. My mother explained that my father was too busy to leave work at that time, which of course didn’t make much sense to me, but by then, I pretty much understood that they had no intentions of ever setting foot there again. So when my grandfather followed her a year later, I wasn’t surprised that we didn’t go to his funeral, either.”

“Are you still afraid of what your parents will say if you make contact with your family now?”

Steve looked down at Madison.

“You think I’m a coward, don’t you?” he asked, a nervous chuckle pushing through his lips.

“No, I don’t think that at all,” Madison said, stroking the side of his face thoughtfully. “I think you are a loyal and considerate man, who worries too much about doing the right thing and doing what his parents want him to do. I know this is not the same thing, but one truth I have learned recently is that while everything we do will have consequences, we’re the only ones we have to seek approval from.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Steve said.

He buried his chin in the top of Madison’s head and closed his eyes.

“Sometimes it’s hard to follow your own voice,” he said, his voice now thick with drowsiness.

In the past few days his dreams and conscious thoughts had been filled with a mixture of Madison and images of Jamaica and his grandmother. It was as if his meeting Madison had caused remembrances that he had buried long ago to resurface. Strange as it seemed, he pondered if Madison had come in to his life at this time for the sole purpose of helping him to remember.

“She would have liked you,” he said.

“Maybe one day I can get to see where you lived with her,” Madison said.

“Maybe,” Steve echoed, his eyes closed and his arms wrapped tightly around Madison, as if he never intended to let her go.

It was just that rapidly and with ease that his soul connected with hers and the comfort that he felt as he lay tangled in her embrace was strangely familiar to him. They’d come from different soil and circumstances, but shared upbringings that were symmetrical in ways that made them understand one another. Minutes seemed like days, days like months, until the length of time that had passed since the moment of their meeting could not be comprehended as being short or limited. All either one of them knew was that they would be forever changed by their meeting.

## Chapter 8

“This is not a love thing,” Madison said as she wound the leash of Brandy, a ninety-five-pound golden retriever, tightly around her hand.

Her shoes slapped against the pavement as Chip, the fifty-pound sleek black Doberman, pulled her toward a cluster of trees that had attracted his attention. The two dogs and a lady made quite a trio. This was one of the various odd jobs that Madison worked in order to supplement the monthly allowance her father provided. She enjoyed walking dogs the most because it was a job that obligated her to remain out of doors for stretches at a time instead of being cooped up in an office or building. The dogs both lived in buildings in her neighborhood and she’d been their official exercise and relief chief for the past three months. While both dogs busied themselves sniffing at the shrubbery that lined the small park, Madison adjusted the Bluetooth earpiece against the side of her head.

“Sounds like it to me,” her sister Kennedy said into her ear.

Madison and Kennedy had been close growing up, but had gone through an estrangement over the past few years that Madison knew had more to do with her own reckless behavior than with anything Kennedy had or had not done. She celebrated the fact that in recent months they had begun talking more regularly and sharing more of their lives with each other just like back in the old days. Having her sister in her life as a confidante was one of the highlights of her newly structured existence, because as headstrong as Madison had always been, she still appreciated the value of having her big sister’s wisdom to call on from time to time.

“Just because you’re all lovey-dovey with that husband of yours doesn’t mean that you should try to paint the rest of the world with that same brush,” Madison replied.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Kennedy said, donning a poor imitation of a British accent.

“Very funny, Kennedy. Where are you anyway?”

“Right now I am at the folks’ house. I just came back from Dad’s office. We had lunch and then I looked over some papers for him. He’s thinking about buying in to this retirement community idea that one of his club members is developing.”

“Oh, and where’s Malik?”

“Malik is at home in D.C. He’s driving down to meet me on Friday. We’re going to spend the weekend here. You know Saturday is Aunt Marva’s fiftieth birthday party. I heard you’re not planning to come.”

“No, I don’t feel like traveling all the way down there. Besides, I’ve got a ton of things to do. Make sure you give her my regards.”

“Uh-huh…you’ve got a ton of things to do all right. I bet you they all revolve around that man,” Kennedy teased.

“Not even,” Madison said, not sounding very convincing to even her own ears.

“Oh, Maddie, what’s the big deal? What would be so wrong with admitting that you’ve fallen in love with this guy? Mom told me that he’s gorgeous and very nice.”

“Your mother has a big mouth. She’s only seen him one time…she barely exchanged two words with him. How would she know? Anyway, that’s not even the point.”