Brazos was beginning to frown. Madeline spoke swiftly, providing him pieces of the puzzle faster than he could fit them together. Still, he didn’t like the way the board was taking shape.
Madeline said, “Bernadette and her count traveled frequently, making trips all over the world. Their daughter Celeste, went to school in Switzerland, and there she met Julian Desseau. He courted her, wooing her with riches and pretty words. He treated her like a queen. When he proposed they elope, she agreed. They’d been married almost a year when Bernadette returned to Europe and discovered her daughter had married. By then, Celeste was expecting Rose.
“Bernadette traveled to a village near St. Germaine and secretly sent for Celeste. That’s when she told Celeste the truth.”
“What truth?” Brazos asked, confusion plowing furrows in his brow. “You’ve got me purely confounded.”
Madeline rubbed her arms as though she were cold. In a flat tone of voice, she stated, “The truth about Julian Desseau. He knew that Bernadette was expecting his child when he banished her from Château St. Germaine. He knew the truth of which Celeste was unaware—that the Italian count was not her father,” She looked at Brazos with tortured, angry eyes and said, “Julian was.”
Brazos went as still as the stone beneath them. “The hell you say. Damn, Maddie, that’s—”
“Incest,” she snapped. “Julian Desseau knowingly fathered Rose with his own daughter.”
A foul curse exploded from Brazos’s mouth, and he pushed to his feet. He stood with his feet spread wide and his hands braced on his hips as he listened to Madeline tell the rest of her story in a flat tone of voice. She said, “Bernadette confessed to Celeste that Julian had left a letter at her villa in Florence for her to read when she returned from her travels. In it, he told Bernadette that the entire scheme had been an act of revenge upon Bernadette for having supposedly cheated on him. Celeste told me the story as she lay dying, and begged me to save her Rose from Julian’s depravity. I considered killing the man, but I’m afraid I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So I stole her, I knew I couldn’t go to Bernadette; Julian would have looked for me there first. So I gave up on the idea of ever learning about my family as promised in my letter and Rose and I traveled to Antwerp. You know the rest.”
A muscle tweaked in Brazos’s cheek as rage toward a man thousands of miles away coursed through his veins. He spoke through set teeth. “That’s the most disgusting, degenerate, despicable story I’ve ever heard. Hell, Maddie, you’d have been doing the world a favor by killing the bastard. Too bad he’s so far away, or I’d see to the deed myself.” Then a slow, thoughtful smile spread across his face. “Although I’ll bet my investigator could find us someone to do it.”
Madeline stood and touched his arm. “So, now do you see why I lied?” she implored. “I won’t apologize for taking Rose. I’d do the very same thing again.”
He shrugged. “You could have told me sooner. What did you think I’d do, turn you over to the bastard?”
“No, I never thought you’d turn us over to Julian. But you’re not a permanent fixture in our lives, Brazos. I thought it safest for Rose if I alone knew the truth.”
“Then why now? Why did you follow me up this hill and tell me your tale—this day of all days?”
Something flickered in her eyes, making him suspicious of her words, as she said, “You saved her life. You went down in that well—something I know must have been terrifying for you—and rescued your ‘Miss Magic.’ I thought you deserved to know the truth after such a sacrifice.”
“It was no damned sacrifice,” he raged, glaring up toward the sky. “I love Rose. You think I’d have just stood there and let her drown?”
“No, Brazos. I think you’re the bravest, most courageous man I’ve ever met.” She trailed her fingers down his chest and said, “I think you’re wonderful. You’re a hero, Brazos—my hero. I want you to make love with me.”
“Hold it right there,” Brazos said, grabbing her wrist to prevent her hand from traveling down to his waistband. “I may be insane, but I’m not stupid. What are you trying to do here, Madeline? Why do I get the feeling something’s different? What is this, some sort of reward? Or maybe some sympathy sex because I went crazy down there? Well, thanks, but no. I’ve more pride than…” His voice trailed off as Madeline tugged her hand from his and moved her fingers to the bodice of her dress.
Slowly, she worked the buttons. “You always enjoy games, Brazos.” She laughed, low and seductively. “Now, I know of one even more fun than golf. And we have all the equipment we need to play right here and right now.”
Damn, the woman was persistent. And smart. She’d caught him at a low point, then capitalized on it with an ugly story that garnered his sympathy. But his situation hadn’t changed just because he understood Madeline’s reasons for lying to him. He still needed out of this marriage.
Madeline and Rose deserved roots that stretched deep into the soil and grabbed hold for life. Brazos’s roots had dried up and disintegrated in the bowels of Perote Prison. Tumbleweeds simply had no roots to plant.
No matter how much they wished they did.
He scowled and shut his eyes when she bared her breasts before him. “Put your clothes back on, woman.”
She ignored him. “And the rules of this game are simple. All we need is to see, and taste, and touch—a lot of touching. Don’t you remember, Brazos? We’ve played this game before.” His groan was a deep rumble that served only to encourage her.
“You told me before how soft my skin was, how sweet I tasted,” she said. “We did enjoy this game before.”
Brazos took a deep breath and consciously relaxed his clenched fists. He looked at her, and his gaze slipped below her neck only twice as he said, “Listen, Madeline, I appreciate the effort. A woman like you bent on seduction is mighty hard to resist. And I’m proud that you shared your story with me. I know it wasn’t an easy thing to do. But it hasn’t changed anything between us. I’m leaving you at La Réunion, and I’m getting that divorce.”
Reaching for her, Brazos intended to fasten her buttons. But somehow his fingers got all tangled up with her breasts, and then she was leaning toward him and moaning deep in her throat, and his tongue sort of darted out to taste that hollow where the noise was coming from.
Still, he’d have been all right had she not gone for the buttons on his britches. She touched him then, molded her fingers around him, and all his good intentions disappeared faster than a plate of cookies in St. Michael’s kitchen.
“Hell, Maddie,” he groaned, lowering her to her back and kneeling above her. “You’ve no more conscience than a cow in a stampede. Didn’t they teach you the meaning of the word
no
in that boarding school of yours?”
She laughed, a seductive, triumphant song that delved into his heart and invaded that empty, guarded place, filling it with heat. “Actually, my years in England taught me that if the answer is no, I haven’t properly asked the question.” Her arms curled around his waist, and she pulled him toward her. Rubbing her naked bosom against his bare chest, she asked, “Am I asking properly now?”
“Hussy.” His tongue slid between her lips as he took her mouth in a possessive kiss. He tasted the apple’s sweetness on her breath and knew he’d been right in the comparison to Eve. A rocky hill in Central Texas wasn’t exactly the Garden of Eden, but then, this entire scenario was backward. He was Sin, the devil—not poor old Adam, who lost it all because he succumbed to a temptress’s charms.
He didn’t help her when she shimmied out of her petticoats and drawers, but he didn’t hinder her either. Stroking the unbound silk of her long, glistening tresses and gazing down at her mouth, gleaming red and swollen from his kiss, Brazos admitted that he’d never stopped wanting her. Even when he’d tried to convince himself she was nothing short of evil, he’d desired her with an intensity he’d known for no other woman. There was something about Madeline that called to him, a light that battled his inner darkness.
The Beauty clashed with the Beast.
“Aw, to hell with fig leaves,” he said, stripping off his denims and positioning himself between her thighs. “Take me to paradise, Beauty.” He entered her slowly, reining in the urge to bury himself inside her with one fast thrust. For all her success as a seductress, he knew in his heart she’d practiced her wiles upon him alone.
Brazos braced himself on his elbows and fought his natural hunger. “Relax, darlin’. Last time we took turns. This time I want us to go off together. It’ll be so fine, Maddie mine.” He lowered his head and nuzzled her breast. “First, I'll suck you like a baby and taste that sweetness you promised me.” He caught her pebbled nipple between his teeth and gently tugged.
A whimper escaped her throat, and he lowered himself a little more. “I’ll work you with my hands till the musk of your arousal surrounds us in a cloud of perfume. And then I’m gonna listen as you scream your release, and our voices will blend as I spill my seed inside you. We’ll have a grand time, Maddie mine.” He pressed down on her, his breath catching in his throat as she moved beneath him, tilting her hips and taking him completely.
And Brazos proceeded to make good on his promises.
It was more than sex and technique, it was an exquisite blending of need and desire, of gifts freely offered and joyfully received. Brazos made love with Madeline.
Feeling her climax, bathing himself in the hot, dancing flames that made her writhe and quake and cry out his name, he exploded inside her and lost himself in the paradise of her body pulsing around him. Her contractions pulled him deep into a place he’d never known before—a warm, golden Eden, where the hollow in his soul was filled to overflowing with a brilliant, gentle peace.
He sagged against her, desperate to hold on to this new and wondrous sensation. He pressed butterfly kisses against her throat, her cheek, her eyes. “Oh, Brazos,” Madeline sighed, “I could love you so easily.”
For just a moment, the colors of paradise sparkled brilliantly and beckoned. But the darkness inside him flared in rage as she made her declaration. He rolled off of her and lay on his back with his forearm flung over his eyes. “Please don’t, Maddie. I don’t want to hurt you. And I will. God help me, but I will.”
“I don’t believe you, Brazos.” She rested her head on his chest, her fingers drawing lazily across his belly. He didn’t have either the heart or the strength to push her away. The hurt was inevitable and would undoubtedly come sooner rather than later. But for now, this stolen moment in time, he was content to lay here with this woman he—
Brazos refused to complete the thought. But the word hung in his mind, churning his gut, and piercing his heart. Madeline may have dealt with her demons by telling him her story, but his certainly hadn’t gone anywhere. Seeing as what had happened in the bottom of that well, Brazos’s personal demon had grown even stronger. He realized that until he dealt with the monster inside him, he’d never be at peace.
To deal with the demon inside meant dealing with the devil outside. Brazos could make no commitments until he’d dealt with Damasso Salezan.
THEY GOT a late start away from St. Michael’s Children’s Home the following morning, what with over twenty teary-eyed children to soothe. At first, Madeline questioned the advisability of passing out gifts to children from an open coffin, but judging from the anticipation and delight present in their faces, she’d worried over nothing. Apparently, they had experience in dealing with Brazos Sinclair’s peculiarities.
Madeline watched with detached interest as Brazos and Mason finished unloading the silver from the casket and stored it in an underground chamber disguised as a privy. “I trust all of those in residence understand not to avail themselves of this particular facility?” she asked Sister Cecilia.
The nun smiled. “Mason has threatened each of us with dire consequences should we forget.”
Brazos then fussed for almost twenty minutes, rearranging Madeline’s trunks in the buckboard to create a safe carrying place for his golf clubs. “You sure you couldn’t repack your things in the coffin, Maddie? With the silver gone, I could use a little more weight in the box. Besides, your clothes would help cushion my golf clubs. I don’t want them getting busted.”
“Brazos.” Madeline said with a sigh, “I’m sure your toys will be just fine where they are.”
Following a final round of good-byes, Brazos and Madeline and Rose headed out. “I can’t believe I’m actually bringing Miss Magic back with us,” he grumbled as the wagon turned on the road leading toward Rocky Point.
“I can’t believe you actually thought to take her away from me,” Madeline replied, still bristling at the idea.
On the way back to St. Michael’s yesterday, Brazos had confessed a secret of his own. He’d told Madeline how he had planned to leave Rose at St. Michael’s. After a few tense moments, Madeline admitted she understood his motives. “You were trying to protect her” she’d said. “While I can be angry that you believed so little of me, I can’t fault you for watching out for my daughter.”
The morning air was cool, and as the wagon creaked its way along the trail, Madeline dug an extra sweater from Rose’s bag and worked the squirming youngster’s arms into the sleeves. “I don’t know, Maddie,” Brazos said, a pensive look on his face. “Maybe I’m making a mistake taking you back to the wagon train. What if Salezan’s men find you? It could be dangerous.”
Madeline shook her head. “I thought we settled this argument yesterday. Let me see if I have this right.” She held up her hand and ticked off each point with a finger “First, you hid Juanita with the colonists because you thought it was the safest place for her. That hasn’t changed. Second, there’s been no sign of this Salezan or his men. Third, even if the worst happened and this monster you speak of traced Juanita to La Réunion, he certainly wouldn’t go after me and Rose. Fourth, even if he did, La Réunion is a closed community. We don’t allow strangers among us. The colonists will protect us.”
“All right, Maddie,” Brazos said. “You don’t have to wear out my ears again. You’ve convinced me; otherwise, I’d have left St. Michael’s without you.”