Chapter Fourteen

She hit him with her best shot …

Ian came home early the next day.

The net was drawing in on the tangos. All of Team Thirteen was now involved in the mission. CIA operatives were all over the place, as well. These were mean sons-of-bitches that had been sent to either kidnap or take Maddie down. The SEALs could have eliminated a few of the more careless ones already, but they were going for the whole bunch of tangos. So it was a high-stakes waiting game.

You’d never know anything was up inside his home, though. There was a sort of normalcy here … although any space with Maddie in it could hardly be called normal. He used the remote garage-door opener, drove into the garage, then used a key to enter the house through the side door of the kitchen. Immediately he was hit with the tantalizing smell of something good cooking on the stove … probably Cage’s famous crab gumbo, since he was the SEAL assigned inside today. Yep, home sweet home.

Maybe I should just yell out, “Honey, I’m home.”

On the other hand, considering her mood lately, I don’t think so.

Still, there was a part of him that wondered what it would be like to come home to a wife … and a kid or two. And what if that wife were Maddie? And what if those kids looked just like a combination of the two of them? And what if they were happy as hell to see him?

Do I really want that?

Hell, no! Commit myself to a woman who might very well be a time-traveler, mental patient, reincarnated dingbat, or God only knows what? Hell, no!

On the other hand, hell, yes! I can’t stop thinking about her. She puts me in my place. She makes me happy. She surprises me all the time. I never know what’s going to come out of her mouth. She screws my brains out, then pulls the plug on sex. Well, we both pulled that plug, but who cares? A plug is a plug.

Sam came up and rubbed herself against his leg. That was a surprise. Sam had been ignoring him ever since Maddie came on the scene. He reached down and ruffled the cat’s fur. “Guess it’s you and me, babe. When this is all over, it will be back to you and me.” Sam looked as sad as he felt.

Ian went over to the stove and took off the lid. Yep, crab gumbo. He took a wooden spoon and tasted. Ummm. Cage knew what he was doing when it came to Cajun cooking.

Ian heard soft voices from down the hall. They were probably in his office surfing the net again. “Yo, Cage,” he yelled out.

The talking stopped. Then Cage said, “Be right there.”

A few minutes later, when he came to the kitchen where Ian had already opened a bottle of beer, Cage had Pretty Boy tagging after him. Ian’s brow furrowed with confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“I had a day off,” Pretty Boy said, “and decided to drop by.”

“Why?” He’d better not be hustling Maddie.

“Why not?” Pretty Boy said, then looked at Cage. “You comin’? Since Mac’s back, you probably don’t have to stay.”

They both looked at Ian, and he nodded. “Go. I have paperwork to do, and it can be done here as well as at the base.”

“Are you sure?” Cage asked. “We could stay.”

“Yeah, I’m dying for some crab gumbo,” Pretty Boy said.

Cage elbowed Pretty Boy.

“You two are acting dingy. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” they both said at the same time.

“Maybe we’d better go,” Cage said.

“Yeah,” Pretty Boy agreed dolefully.

Ian noticed that they practically dragged their feet as they picked up their weapons and put them in special carry-alls that disguised their contents from any tangos watching the house. Finally, after dawdling for five minutes more, they left.

Ian took his beer and briefcase into the living room. He picked up the remote and turned on the TV, channel surfed till he found a ball game, then spread his papers out on the coffee table.

Where’s Maddie? he thought as another ten minutes went by, and there was no noise coming from down the hall.

Maybe she’s taking a nap. Yeah, that must be it.

He worked for another few minutes, then threw his pen down in disgust. I am not thinking about her on the bed. And I am definitely not thinking about a little Afternoon Delight.

He took a long swallow from the long neck, put his hands behind his neck, leaned back and contemplated the fireplace. She has a hell of a nerve cutting me off, demanding my help in exchange for sex. Like she’s that special. Chicks are a dime a dozen. I could go down to the Wet and Wild, even now in the middle of the day, and chances are I could pick up a hot number. A one-nighter, that’s what I need. Why that idea had no appeal, he couldn’t say. Actually, he could say. He’d been sick of one-nighters long before Maddie came on the scene. Now that she had come, he felt sick to his stomach even considering such a thing.

Sam jumped up on the couch and sat next to him. He could swear the cat looked sad. Misery loves company, I guess. Ian closed his eyes and sighed. My life sucks.

He heard Maddie coming down the hall, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. His eyes flew open. Clicking? High heels click. Not sandals or sneakers, which is all she has. Uh-oh.

Sitting up straighter, he watched as Maddie stepped onto the living room carpet. He was speechless. That was all. Utterly, friggin’, out-of-this-world speechless.

She wore the tightest pair of black jeans ever plastered on to a woman’s body. She must have lain down on the floor to get them on. Even then, she had to have had help. Cage and Pretty Boy! I’ll kill them.

On her feet were red, high-heeled, toeless shoes … stilettos, he thought they were called. Her toenails had been painted red to match. Where the hell did she get those shoes, and who painted her toenails? Cage and Pretty Boy! I’ll kill them.

Up top— be still my heart —she wore a black leather bustier that left her arms, shoulders and half her chest bare, right down to a pair of uplifted breasts that just might pop the laces. If those two jerks helped or watched her put this on, I’ll definitely kill them.

Even her face and hair were different. Her hair was loose and mussed. In fact, it looked as if someone had curled the long strands. Where in God’s name did those two men learn how to do that to a woman’s hair?

She wore red lipstick, too. And makeup, he was pretty sure. At least there was dark stuff on her eyelashes.

All this passed through his mind as she paused in the doorway. She licked her lips nervously.

A Blue Steeler popped right up in his pants.

She walked over to the chair across from the sofa and attempted to sit down. He should have been laughing at how difficult it was for her to bend, but there was nothing funny when your erection was about to burst the zipper at your crotch.

Finally she perched on the edge, looked over at him and said, cool as you please, “What’s up?” She must have learned that expression from her two bozo makeover artists.

In answer to her question, he looked down at his lap.

She had the grace to blush. Damn straight she should blush.

“What’s up with you, Madonna?”

Her shoulders slumped. “You think I look like the mother of God? Pfff. Cage and Pretty Boy said …” She let her words trail off as she realized she was revealing too much.

He hadn’t been giving her words full attention, at first. He was too busy watching the rise and fall of her incredible breasts. Apparently, she was having trouble breathing. He started to grin, then stopped himself. “No, I didn’t mean that Madonna. I meant the other one with the cone-shaped breast things.”

“What is a cone?”

“Never mind. So, what’s new?”

“Well, I learned to shag today.”

“What?”

“You do not have to yell. I am right here. And, by the by, there comes that vein again. Really, you should do something about that. I knew a trader once who—”

“Who did you shag?” he asked icily.

She frowned at him. “Who? I did not shag anyone. I did the shag with someone. Cage. He really is a good dancer. Are you a good dancer?”

“No.”

“You should ask Cage to teach you. He even knows how to dip. Do you dip?”

Ian put his face in one hand and counted to ten. Then he looked at her. “Am I supposed to interpret this outfit as an invitation?”

Her body went stiff as a board, or as much as was possible in her hooker outfit. “Why would I invite you to anything? I told you that you are no longer welcome to … you know. Have you changed your mind about helping me to raise an army?”

“Hell, no!”

“Then I have nothing more to say to you. Mayhap you should call Slick to come over so that I may ask him if would be willing to help me raise an army.”

“No way!” he bellowed.

“You do not give me orders. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“You are not meeting with any other man in that … that outfit,” he sputtered.

“What’s wrong with my apparel?”

“That outfit is sex bait, pure and simple.”

“So?”

“Why are you wearing it if you’re not inviting me?”

“Practice.”

Aaarrgh! “Practice for what?”

“For when I leave here. I must needs make my way in the world when I interview candidates for my army.”

“And who, pray tell, are these men you are going to interview in that attire? ”

“Mercenaries.”

Not in this lifetime!

“There are men who fight for money, you know.”

“I know, but where is the money coming from?” As soon as she leaves the room, I am going to hunt out those frickin’ jewels of hers and hide them till she gives up the ludicrous idea of a personal army.

“I have nothing more to say to you.” She raised her chin haughtily and proceeded to walk away, and once again he had the niggling feeling he had seen her before. But then he didn’t think any more because he almost lost it just looking at her ass in those tight jeans.

Ian decided to take a cold shower … again . He was beginning to develop prune skin.

A half hour later he came down to the kitchen, where Maddie was standing before the stove, stirring the gumbo. A rock station was on the radio and she was doing this kind of shimmy as she danced in place to “Wild Thing.” Apparently, Cage had taught her more than the Cajun two-step and the shag. He spun around and returned for another cold shower. After that he shut himself in his office and did his work there. Good thing, too. His cell phone rang constantly with messages related to the upcoming trap being set.

It must have been five o’clock before he heard a soft rap on the door. “Yeah?”

Maddie cracked the door open and said, “You don’t have to bark at me.” She was wearing the same enticing outfit, but she’d ditched the high heels—her feet had probably been killing her—and her lipstick had worn off. “Dinner is ready if you’re interested. But don’t consider that an ‘ invitation .’ I’ve already eaten.”

He started to apologize for snapping at her. His distress wasn’t her fault. Well, actually, it was her fault for dressing like that. It wouldn’t do any good to apologize anyway, because she was already sashaying down the hall. Lordy, lordy!

“By the by,” she said, turning and walking backward. “Do you like blow jobs?”

Ian almost swallowed his tongue. He would kill whoever taught her that phrase. Or maybe he wouldn’t. “Yeah. Why?”

“Because you’re never getting one from me.” She turned and continued walking away from him.

Amazing!

In the empty kitchen, which he noticed that Maddie kept spotlessly clean, he scooped some gumbo and white rice onto a place, then added a couple of slices of French bread. He walked to the table and was about to sit down, but decided he wasn’t hungry after all.

He went to the living room, where Maddie was stretched out on the couch, all five feet ten inches of hot stuff. She was watching—Ian checked and had to grin—the weather channel.

He went over to the side of the couch and stared down at her. “Maddie?”

“What?” she asked, not even looking up at him.

“Let’s cut the crap. I want you. You want me. Let’s go to bed and screw each other’s brains out.” I have the charm of a slug.

“Who says I want you?” She looked up at him now.

“I say so.” He hunkered down beside her and took her hand in both of his. “Come on, sweetie. You win.”

“I do?” she said brightly, turning on her side. When she did, her breasts almost fell out of the leather bustier, and his heart almost stopped. “Does that mean you’ll help me raise an army to go back to Norstead?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, it doesn’t mean that. Is that the only way you’ll let me in?”

She nodded.

“Sounds a little bit like prostitution to me.” That sounded crude, even to his own ears.

But Maddie didn’t seem offended, just angry. She slapped his hand away. “Let me tell you something. If spreading my thighs for that beast Steinolf would have saved Norstead, I would have done it in a trice. If that be prostitution, so be it.”

“Are you putting me in the same class as that monster?”

She sighed tiredly. “No. No, I’m not. I’m just trying to explain how important regaining Norstead is to me. I’ll do anything to accomplish it.”

“Even sleep with me?”

She nodded. “Even that.”

“It’s not much of a compliment.”

She shrugged. “When I started this seduction game …”

Seduction game? Is that what this is? Why didn’t someone tell me? I don’t mind being seduced.

“…I had a two-fold purpose.”

You’ve got my attention, baby. This oughta be good.

“I wanted to change your mind about helping me raise an army …”

I am sick to my eyeballs of hearing about this fictional, never-gonna-happen army of hers.

“… but I also tried to seduce you just because …”

I’d like to think … but no, you never can predict what she’ll come out with next.

“… because you make me all fluttery all the time .”

A slow smile crept onto his mouth, and he didn’t even try to stop it. “That’s a good thing, Maddie. Why do you look so sad?”

She sat up. Since he was still hunkered down, they were eye to eye. “You are a military man. How important is honor to you?”

Huh? We were talking about sex. “Very important. Why?”

“Because it is equally important to me. If I made love to you again, knowing how little regard you have for my quest, then I would be without honor.”

That is the most fantastic bit of female illogic I have ever heard. “I don’t see it that way.”

“I know you do not,” she said sadly.

Now he was growing angry because, frankly, he was beginning to understand that he wasn’t getting any tonight. “How much honor is there in trying to seduce me to your way of thinking?”

She seemed to actually ponder his argument, then shook her head. “If your refusal to help me was a point of honor, then it would be dishonorable of me to try to seduce you. But since your refusal is based on mere muleheadedness and lack of trust and belief in me”—she shrugged—“my method was fair.”

He threw his hands up in disgust. “You are crazy. That’s it. No more begging. There are other fish in the sea.”

Walking away from her, he thought he heard a stifled sob, but he was probably mistaken. Talk about muleheadedness … she took the prize there.

Ian had never been so twisted out of shape by a woman before … not even by Jennifer when she left. In fact, there had been a bit of relief when she’d skipped out on him; he’d already begun to suspect his feelings for her weren’t that deep. It was probably why she’d cheated on him. But now, if he didn’t know better … no, it wasn’t possible … but what if …

Holy hell, I am in bigger trouble than I thought.

I have fallen in love with a looneybird.

Heartbreak Hotel … uh, Home …

Madrene stood under the hot shower for a long time that night.

She was crying and could not stop. She’d always known that if she started to let the tears escape, there would be a flood. And that was just what was happening.

She cried for the loss of Norstead and the death of so many of her people. She wept for the women who had been raped by Steinolf’s men. She sobbed aloud when she pictured herself in the longship departing from the Norselands. She moaned the death of all her family members. There were tears, too, for the two long years in Arab lands, always, always determined that she would go back one day and unseat Steinolf. She even threw in her anguish over being barren.

But mostly, she cried for Ian because she truly wanted him to believe in her. Unrealistically, she had half expected him to be so enthralled with her that he would acquiesce.

I love him , she admitted to herself. For the first time in my life, I have fallen in love. And it cannot be. It cannot be.

With her forehead pressed against the shower tiles, with the hot water turning tepid, she sobbed her heart out where no one could see or hear her. It would be the last time she allowed herself the female weakness of tears, but for now she just let go of all her grief.

So engrossed was she that she didn’t hear the door open.

Ian had stepped into the shower, wearing a pair of his running shorts. He held her from behind, his arms wrapped around her middle, his chin resting on her shoulder. “Shhhh, don’t cry, sweetie. Everything will turn out all right. I promise it will. Please don’t cry.”

Ian’s heart was breaking over this strong, broken woman in his arms. He’d been in his office when he heard her go into the shower at least a half hour ago. When the running water had continued for such a long time, he’d gotten up and walked to the bathroom door. He’d rapped and got no answer. Then he’d opened the door a crack and heard her heartwrenching sobs.

“I am not crying,” she cried.

“I know, honey. You never cry.”

“And I am not cry … being sad over you.”

“I hope not. I’m not worth it.”

“You are so.”

“Okay.”

“I will never bear children, you know.”

“That’s what this is all about? Children?”

“Nay! I just thought I would mention that.” Another sob escaped her. “Do you plan on having children someday?”

Now, there’s a loaded question if I ever heard one. “I don’t know. Finding someone to love would be more important than finding a mother for my children.”

He turned off the shower and pulled an oversized towel off the rack behind him. Wrapping her in it, he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. Sitting down on the side of the bed, he began to move his fingers through her wet hair like a comb so it was off her face.

For a few minutes she allowed him to minister to her and make soothing sounds to stop her crying, but then she began to struggle. Her arms were bound at her sides by the towel. “Let me out,” she demanded when he just held tighter. “I am over my … self-pity …”

Self-pity? Hah! More like all-out bawling.

“… I am back to myself again. Let me go.”

“No. I don’t think so.”

Her head shot up. “What do you mean?”

God, she was beautiful. Even with red-rimmed blue eyes. “I mean, I like you in this position. You’re easier to talk to this way.”

She squirmed.

He chuckled. “Give it up, baby. I’ve got you now.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure. Perhaps I’ll start here.” He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her startled lips.

She was startled for only a second, before she squirmed some more.

“Have you any idea what your squirming is doing to my … lap?”

She stopped instantly, probably feeling his erection through the towel. Her cheeks flushed and she turned on him. “You would take me against my wishes?”

“No. Never. You’ll be willing.”

“Troll.”

“You say that like an endearment. I’ve decided that every time you call me troll, you are really saying, ‘Darling.’” He kissed her then, in earnest. Long, drugging kisses that went on forever. He kept his tongue in check at first, figuring she might just take a bite out of him. But when she moaned and opened for him, he entered the hot wetness of her mouth, and moaned himself.

He never knew there were so many ways to kiss a woman. Truthfully, he was probably inventing a few new ones. A woman like Maddie made a man creative.

While she was being so compliant, he lifted her off his lap and onto the bed. As he lay on his side, leaning over her, she stared up at him from the pillow. “Are you going to help me when this is over?” Her eyes were wide and sad as she waited for his response.

“Probably,” he said. “Are you going to make love with me, regardless of what I would do for you in the future?”

“Probably,” she said with a long sigh.

Probably. She said probably. When a woman says probably, she usually means yes. Holy cow! We’re gonna make love again. And all I had to say was probably. He allowed himself to smile then.

“Stop smiling,” she ordered. “You know what your smiles do to me.”

He continued to smile, of course.

“Release me from this towel. Now that you got your way, you don’t have to restrain me.”

“You got your way, too, Maddie. And, no, I am not going to release you.”

“Why?”

“Stop asking so many questions. I’m going exploring.”

“Exploring what?”

He made a tsk-ing sound at her continuing questions. “You.” With that, he moved down the bed, knelt over her legs, which were spread as far as they would go, then shoved the towel up to her waist. That allowed him to spread her legs wider and move between her legs. Her arms were still held by the towel.

“Eeeeeek! What are you doing down there?”

“Exploring.”

“With your tongue?” she shrieked. “This is embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not. Besides, you asked me if I like oral sex.”

“I didn’t mean this . JAM described something entirely different when he explained oral sex to me.”

Note to self. Kill JAM. “Be quiet, Maddie, or I’ll stuff a washcloth in your mouth.”

“You wouldn’t dare. Oooooooh! What did you just do?”

You don’t wanna know, sweetheart. “You’re right. I wouldn’t put a gag in your mouth, but I might do something perverted.”

“Seems to me you are already doing something perverted.”

“Not even close, baby.”

She went still.

He put both hands under her buttocks and touched her there .

She bucked up and screeched. “I’ll be quiet,” she promised.

“Good. But, for the record, that wasn’t perverted. You can trust me, Maddie.” She was quiet; so he asked, “You do trust me, don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

That was good enough, for now.

He got down to business then, and what a delicious business it was. By the light of both bedside lamps, he was able to see Maddie’s sweet spot and all its surrounding pink folds. She was only slightly aroused now. He looked forward to changing that situation.

It all came together quicker than he’d expected, but not quick enough as far as his own raging libido was concerned. Maddie was so cute—okay, not cute; more like hot damn sexy—when she made those little whoofing sounds as she came closer and closer to climax. And then she arched her hips off the bed, tried to bring her legs together, which he wouldn’t allow, then howled as she came … and came … and came. Like everything else his Maddie did, she gave it her all and then some.

And, yes, he was thinking of her as his.

Before she had a chance to catch a breath, he moved up and over her and eased himself into her still spasming inner muscles. He was the one who felt like howling now.

“Ian?” she said.

Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God! She’s going to talk now! He was gritting his teeth and could not respond.

“Troll?”

Didn’t I just tell her, about an orgasm ago, that I would interpret troll as darling in future? Yeah, I did. He unclenched his teeth and grinned down at her. “What, sweetie?”

“If you don’t unwrap me, you will never, ever be reciprocated for … what you just did.” Her face was pink with embarrassment. At least she wasn’t red from crying.

“That is a threat worth heeding.”

Still embedded deep inside her, he managed to pull the ends of the towel out from under her, releasing not just her arms but those magnificent breasts.

“Why are you leering at my breasts?” she groused.

“Because I like what I see.” And because I consider them mine now. No other man is going to see you … them … like me. “Did you like what I did to you?”

“Nay.”

Her inner muscles belied her by clutching him even tighter. He would have teased her about that, but he was suddenly overcome with such love for her. The emotion was so powerful it made him breathless, and not just because a part of her was embracing him like it would never let go. There was an expression he’d heard one time about “loving someone to distraction.” That was exactly how he felt. She mixed him all up. She nagged and berated him, refused his orders, gave him orders, turned him inside out and upside down with anger and frustration. Then, in the midst of it all, she told him that his smile made her fluttery.

He wanted desperately to tell her that he loved her, but he was afraid it was too soon. She would interpret his declaration as pity, coming so hard on her cry fest. And she would also tie it in somehow with her irrational quest for an army.

So he couldn’t tell her. But he could show her how much he loved her.

“Move off me, you big lout, so I can make love to you.”

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he said, nuzzling her neck. And then he made slow, slow love to her. With each long stroke in and out of her slickness, he gave her soft words of praise and explicit whispers about what he was about to do or wanted to do. He worshiped her.

And she returned the favor tenfold. She caressed his face and shoulders and back. She murmured what she liked and told him what she wanted. She kissed him, alternating between coaxing and hunger. She offered him her breasts with her own hands. She reached between where they were joined and touched him and herself at the same scorching moment.

When they came together in an ever-increasing spiral of sweet agony, he wished he could tell her what was on his mind. I love you, Maddie. Forever.

You can’t deny love …

Maddie was never one to hold her tongue.

So when Ian eased himself out of her and rolled to his side, taking her with him in a gentle embrace, she raised her head and looked down at him. “Ian?”

“Uh-oh! We’re going to start talking, aren’t we?”

“What’s wrong with talking?”

“There’s a time and a place for everything. And right now I want to make love to you. Over and over.”

She liked the sound of that. Still … “Be that as it may. Ian, I have a question for you.”

He groaned, leaned over her and kissed her softly on the lips, then dropped back down to the pillow. “Okay, spill, baby.”

She twirled his chest hairs nervously, then looked him steadily in the eyes. “Do you think you could ever love a woman like me?”

He just stared at her for a very long moment. Then he whispered in a husky voice, “Do you read minds now, too?”

Confused, she tilted her head.

“Maddie, I love you. I honest to God do. I probably did the moment I saw you with that Phyllis Diller hair and camel stink on you. I think I will love you always.”

“Oh, Ian.” She began to cry. “I am not crying,” she quickly said.

He brushed some hair off her face. “Why are you not-crying?”

“Because I love you so much it scares me.”

Ian blinked several times, as if he might have tears rising, too. Then he pulled her down for a kiss that lasted this side of forever.

“What are we going to do about this love?” she asked him when they came up for air.

“I don’t know, but one thing is certain, wife …”

It was the first time he’d addressed her that way, and a thrill rippled through her. I am his wife. Truly. And he is my husband.

“Are you listening, Maddie? I am never going to let you go.”

His words sounded a little bit autocratic, as he often was with her. But this time, she liked the sound of it. Betimes it was all right to love a tyrant, Madrene decided.