He’s not a boy any longer, Maddie.
Yes, that much was evident, as her gaze swept his muscular chest with its light dusting of dark hair. Perhaps he was right, that they had needed the time apart before coming together again. Had he stayed, would she ever have viewed him as anything but a friend, the brother she never had?
Or would she have dedicated herself so completely to lawn tennis, determined to become the best?
Furthermore, would Harrison have made his own fortune, then come back as ambitious and obsessed?
She suspected the answer to all those questions was no.
Like it or not, the events of that fateful night, the one before he left for Paris, had changed their lives. But every decision, every moment in the past, had led them here, married and bound until death. It felt right. It felt like . . . destiny.
Sighing, she dragged her palm over his sternum and ribs, mapping him with her fingers. This was all so new, but familiar, too. As if somewhere in the back of her mind she always knew they’d end up here.
Her chest expanded, her heart nearly bursting. She’d never been happier. Am I in love with him? She froze as the question echoed in her mind. It seemed too soon for love, especially since they’d just made up after he’d lied to her. Again.
Indeed, she cared for him, but love was hearts and flowers, rainbows and poems—not arguments and deceptions. Love required trust and mutual respect. A sense of partnership. Harrison hadn’t even been completely honest with her until three days ago. Someday love might blossom between them, but she suspected this swelling inside her chest was just the lingering effects of lust combined with affection.
“What are you thinking about so seriously?” he asked quietly.
You. “Nothing. Merely enjoying the moment.”
He huffed a laugh. “You have never once in your life slowed down enough to enjoy a moment. Your mind never stops planning what you are doing next.”
“Says the man who never stops to plan, period.”
“Touché. Though I will say I’ve spent a fair amount of time plotting these past three years.”
“Speaking of, why did you work from here today instead of downtown?”
“I wanted to stay close to you.”
There went her chest, ballooning once more. She relaxed against him and listened to the sounds from the back gardens coming in through the window. Gardeners clipped bushes and rolled carts over gravel. Insects were buzzing and birds chirped from the surrounding trees. It was a perfect moment, full of peace and quiescence.
He stroked the side of her breast with his fingertips, causing her to shiver. “What came over you today after practice? Not that I’m complaining, mind you. Merely curious.”
“I missed you.”
“I see.”
She could hear the smile in his voice so she pushed up onto her elbow to see his face. “Do not gloat, Harrison Archer.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Sliding a hand behind her head, he pulled her down to his mouth. “And,” he whispered against her lips, “I missed you, too.” Then he kissed her, long and deep, with his lips moving against her own as if starved for the taste of her. Their tongues twined and danced, until she was breathless, light-headed, and she finally had to pull away to gulp air into her lungs.
He trailed tiny kisses along her jaw. “Are you still angry with me?”
“No.” She looked down at him and searched his midnight-blue eyes. “Just . . . do not keep anything from me again. Please.”
He cupped her cheek in his large palm. “You have my word that I won’t.”
Satisfied that he meant it, she nodded once. “Good.”
“In the interest of full disclosure, then, I should tell you that I’ve come up with a way to acquire the remaining stock tomorrow morning.”
“Oh? How?”
“It might not work, but I’m going to visit my family.”
That sounded ominous. “Anything else you’d like to share in the interest of full disclosure?”
He rolled her onto her back, where he loomed over her, a wicked smile on his face. A lock of dark hair fell over his brow. “Yes. I plan to fuck you one more time before dinner. So would you like a bath now or later?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The house looked much the same from the outside, still cold and forbidding. No flowers on the stoop, paint peeling on several shutters. Not so much disrepair as . . . neglect.
Harrison felt nothing as he stared up at the place in which he’d spent most his life. No warm nostalgia, no yearnings for simpler times. Those were horrible years, his misery alleviated only when he was in Newport with Maddie. In fact, the entire place could burn and he would not shed a single tear.
After ringing the bell, he entered the vestibule and removed his hat, but kept hold of the satchel he carried. He was shown to the smaller sitting room, the one used for immediate family. He strode inside, anticipation jumping in his veins, and found his mother seated on the sofa while Thomas sprawled in an armchair, looking petulant. As if his brother was annoyed to have been kept waiting.
“You’re late,” Thomas snapped. “We’ve been waiting nearly a quarter of an hour.”
Harrison folded himself into an empty armchair and ignored the criticism. Far more important matters were at hand than tardiness.
“Why in heaven’s name must we hear about your marriage from the papers?” his mother asked. “The very least you could have done was cable us with the news to alleviate our worry.”
“My wife and I wished to enjoy a brief honeymoon before we dealt with the family’s financial matters.” He crossed his legs and smoothed his trousers. “Now, what is it you need from me?”
Thomas huffed, the sound loaded with impatience. “I should think that is obvious.”
“Not entirely,” Harrison said. “You wished for me to marry an heiress and I have done so. Now what?”
His mother and brother exchanged a look. “Now we discuss the family debts and how we are to keep the Archer assets from being seized by creditors.”
“Oh, I don’t care about any of that.”
His mother’s skin paled as she stiffened. “Excuse me?”
He spoke slowly, carefully, to get his point across. “I do not care. About any of that.”
“What on earth does that mean?” Thomas’s eyes nearly bulged out of his skull. “As a member of this family, you must care. Our finances are the whole reason for your marriage.”
“Convenient I am a member of the family only when it suits you both.”
“You have always been a member of this family, Harrison,” his mother said, looking down her nose at him.
“And yet I never received one word from either of you while I was in Paris. Not a cable or a letter. Not even a message in a bottle. Thomas was there two years ago and never bothered to look me up.”
The skin above Thomas’s collar turned a dull red. “I was attending to business.”
“Yet you found time to visit Le Chabanais. Twice.” The famous French brothel was known to host many dignitaries and aristocrats, many of whom Harrison had become friendly with. It hadn’t taken long for word of Thomas’s visits to reach Harrison’s ears.