How could she even ask such a question? No one knew him better than Maddie. He rose and took a step toward her. “I am the same man you’ve known since you were ten. Nothing has changed.”
“Not from what I can see. It’s like the kind yet impulsive boy I knew has grown into this other secretive person, one obsessed with revenge and ambition.”
“And you. Don’t forget I am also obsessed with you.”
“That doesn’t make me any less angry about the rest of it.” She paced away a few steps, then faced him. “You’re rich.”
“Very.”
“Yet you led me to believe you still relied on your family’s money.”
“I didn’t think it mattered to you whether I had my own money or not.”
“It doesn’t but I would like the truth. I want a partnership, Harrison, one where we play on the same side. Ours.”
Ours. He liked the sound of that.
And she was wrong. They had a partnership. He was on her side no matter what, indefinitely. Once he bankrupted his family, Maddie would be his first and only priority.
He didn’t want her to doubt it—ever.
Swiftly, he closed the distance between them. She watched him warily but didn’t retreat. When he was within reach, he slipped his hand around the side of her neck, his thumb resting on her jaw. His other hand found her hip as he pressed their foreheads together. “We are partners,” he whispered. “We always have been, since the very first moment I met you. It’s why no one would team up against us in croquet or acting charades. Why I sought you out every time something terrible happened at home. Why I need you by my side until I draw my last breath. It is you and me, Mads. No one else.”
She drew in a shaky breath as her fingers hooked into the waistband of his trousers. “Then act like it. That means not keeping things from me anymore.”
“I won’t. I promise.” He kissed her brow. “Are we done fighting?”
“No.” She kissed his throat, right above his collar. “I am still mad.”
“Shall we go upstairs? I’ll spend the rest of the afternoon apologizing in bed.”
She stepped away and put distance between them. “I won’t settle for a mediocre apology.”
He gave her a smile full of wicked promise. “Who said anything about mediocre?”
“Don’t be cute. Not all of our problems can be solved in bed.”
They couldn’t? “Then where should we solve them?”
“I don’t know, Harrison,” she said, her tone full of exasperation. “But ‘Let’s go upstairs’ is not the answer after you’ve lied to me about almost everything. Do better.” With a heavy sigh, she lifted her skirts and started for the door.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“To get changed. I feel like hitting tennis balls right now and pretending they are your head.”
Ouch. “I could change and play with you.”
She paused on the threshold. “No, thank you. I’d like to be alone.”
“Maddie . . .” Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair. He’d bungled this. One day of marriage and he’d already caused a rift between them. He had to find a way to mend it.
Years of experience had taught him to give her space, yet everything in him fought against that instinct. He wanted the laughter and the easy camaraderie, the way she smiled at him. And yes, he wanted to take her upstairs and pleasure her until she screamed his name.
It would kill him to stay away . . . but he couldn’t chase her. Couldn’t push her into forgiving and forgetting.
He slipped his hands in his trouser pockets, grinding his back teeth together as she disappeared into the house.
“Do better, Harrison,” she called.
He had to find a way to apologize, to make things right, but in a way that meant something to her. Only he had no idea where to begin.
The bell sounded, echoing through the still house and startling Maddie. No one had so much as dropped a card or sent a telegram since the wedding. Had someone come to pay her a visit?
In the past, she would have hurried to the door and greeted the caller herself. Now she paused just inside the library, nervously waiting to hear who was there.
Coward.
It was true. She hardly recognized herself, hiding out in the house and feeling sorry for herself. It was unlike her. Harrison seemed concerned, as well, watching her carefully while they had dinner last night. She was still angry at him for lying, and he hadn’t joined her in bed afterward. A relief really, as she was still sore.
Liar. You weren’t relieved. You were disappointed.
Yes, she had been disappointed. However, she didn’t want to start their marriage off with lies and half-truths. He needed to be honest with her about everything. She didn’t like being caught unawares . . . and it seemed as if Harrison had done nothing but surprise her since returning from Paris.
A familiar voice sounded in the entryway. Hiding place forgotten, Maddie darted toward the front door, beyond relieved to have a friend with whom to talk.
Nellie’s eyes went round when she saw Maddie hurrying toward her. “My, someone is antsy today.”
“I am happy to see you.” She threw her arms around Nellie.
After requesting tea from the kitchen, she led her friend into the sitting room. “How did you know I was in New York?”
“Your husband. He cabled me this morning and asked me to pay you a visit.” Nellie unpinned her hat. “How have you been holding up?”
Maddie blew out a frustrated breath. “Miserable. Please, entertain me.”
Nellie paused in the midst of lowering herself onto the sofa. “May I rest for a moment and perhaps eat a cookie first?”
“Of course. Forgive me.”
“Forgiven. Now, why are you miserable? Aren’t you and Harrison getting along?”
“I suppose.”
Nellie’s brows rose. “You suppose? You’ve been married almost three days. Did you get along on your wedding night? And every night since?”
Ah. She should have known her friend would ask about this. It was Nellie, after all. “Yes, there’s no problem with getting along.”
“Good. I knew Harrison picked up a trick or two in Paris. I’m happy for you, Maddie.”
“I should thank you for what you said before the wedding night. It helped.”
“Good. Women don’t talk about these things often enough. We rely on men to tell us—and you know how informative they can be. There should be some kind of guidebook or something.”
“You should write one,” Maddie suggested. “I would buy it.”
“I’m no writer. I think all that typing would drive me mad, not to mention all the euphemisms I’d be forced to use. Can you imagine? ‘When you lavish attention on his manly pole . . .’”
“‘Be prepared to receive it in your feminine hole.’” They both burst into peals of laughter.
“Terrible. Absolutely terrible. Never take up poetry over lawn tennis.” Nellie’s gaze turned serious. “Though I am glad to see you smile.”
“It’s been rough.”
“Why? I thought you said you and Harrison were getting along.”