Three to Tango (26 page)

“I thought that’s what he was,” Walker commented evenly before he took a sip of his mojito. Some things never changed, like the fact that Madeline refused to understand that Walker and his brother Zach came from a completely different world than the affluent lifestyle she and Tony shared. Walker got why she’d defended so much against his different background when they were younger. If she could have just convinced Walker that he had nothing to prove by taking the job with the Secret Service, he would never have left Tahoe and she wouldn’t be hurling visual knives at him at this moment with her spectacular eyes.

“My point is, Mount Caramel was hardly a rich person’s school. You always bring it up like it was, and it wasn’t. It’s your basic Catholic high school, not Eton,” Madeline snapped.

“The only Eton the north shore possessed,” Tony joked, oblivious to the tension in the air and Madeline’s mood, which was about ten shades past annoyance. Tony didn’t even seem to think much of it when Madeline snatched her hand from his and gazed out at the glistening lake, her face turned in profile.

“How’s Billy doing, Walker?” Tony asked, referring to Walker’s father. “Last I heard, he was living with Zach in Truckee.”

“My dad died last year,” Walker said quietly.

Madeline’s head swung around. When he saw the expression on her face, regret swept through him for being so abrupt. Madeline had adored Billy when she’d been a teenager, and Billy had loved her back.

“No! ” Tony exclaimed, and Walker’s regret deepened.

His father had always been great with kids. He’d left his mark on Tony and Madeline. “What happened?” Tony asked.

“A stroke,” Walker said. “It happened the day after Christmas last year. It was in his sleep … Quick.”

“Zach was there?” Madeline asked throatily.

Walker nodded. “Yeah, and my nephew Kale.”

“He … he didn’t suffer? Billy, I mean?” she asked shakily.

He held her gaze and shook his head. Her lips—pink and full and naked of all makeup—parted. Walker suspected she thought of her own father’s abrupt death eleven years ago. He saw her throat convulse as she swallowed.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said softly. She cast her gaze back to the lake.

“I loved Billy. I’ll miss him,” Tony said, sounding a little lost. Tony’s brain was hardwired with brilliant equipment, but he responded so frankly at times, so genuinely, it was like he was a simple child. The paradox of Tony wasn’t lost on Walker. He guessed many women found that contrast between quirky genius and sweet boy-man endearing. Factor in a face and body worthy of a European playboy, and Walker supposed he could understand Tony’s appeal for Madeline.

Sort of.

Not really, but that just might be jealousy talking, Walker admitted to himself as he covertly studied the clean lines of Madeline’s profile set against the topaz jewel of the lake. Madeline had a mind like a steel trap. He just couldn’t see her being wildly attracted to Tony—couldn’t see it when they were kids, still couldn’t see it now.

Madeline remained thoughtful and quiet as Hal and Kitty drew Walker into a conversation about what it had been like to be a Secret Service agent. Tony seemed relaxed and content as he listened, the prince in his castle, occasionally asking a few questions and joining in laughter. Madeline’s gaze remained on the lake as it deepened in color with encroaching nightfall. She didn’t participate in the conversation, but Walker sensed she listened with avid attention.

Or maybe he thought that because he was so hyperaware of her.

After a few minutes, Alessandro, Tony’s engaging assistant who did everything from running errands to organizing parties and dinners, came onto the terrace and announced that he’d serve their meal indoors.

Late June days in Tahoe could sizzle, but the evenings cooled considerably. Dinner was served in a glass sanctuary on the west side of the house. Alessandro had set the table with a white tablecloth and several flickering pinecone candles. Tony took the seat at the end of the table and the Margraves sat side by side to the left of him. Madeline gave Walker a repressive glance when he pulled back her chair to seat her. Her sun-gilded back was bare in the halter dress she wore. She wore her long, dark hair in a sleek twist at the back of her head. He could tell by the stiffness of her spine she was miffed when he sat down next to her. He unobtrusively moved his chair nearer to her when he pushed himself toward the table.

He felt her start when he placed his hand on her dress-covered thigh beneath the table. For one second … two … three, he waited on edge. He barely had attention to focus when Alessandro approached, showing Madeline the label of the wine.

“This is the wine you requested, Ms. Sayer. Would you like to taste it?”

Walker waited, an expression of polite indifference plastered on his face. He’d made it clear to his director at the Secret Service, Mark Eldridge, that he wasn’t impartial when it came to this investigation. He’d even warned Eldridge it wasn’t a good idea to include him if Madeline was going to be involved. Walker had thought it only fair to tell the truth.

Eldridge had considered all the advantages Walker’s inside position offered and sent him anyway.

Walker had convinced himself seducing Madeline could serve a dual purpose. He wasn’t entirely being selfish by coming on to her with Tony sitting six feet away. Having an inside position with Madeline could only help matters—both personally and professionally.

Of course, all she had to do was react with insulted outrage at his bold move and Tony would kick him out for good.

Forget playing with fire. This was Madeline. This was tossing lit matches on a cache of dynamite.

Madeline’s dark eyes remained fixed on her wineglass as Alessandro poured. She held herself unnaturally still. Walker shifted his hand higher on her thigh. The fabric of the dress she wore was thin. He felt the shape of her perfectly. His cock jerked in arousal.

She picked up the glass and tilted the amber liquid toward her lips.

“It’s lovely, Alessandro. Thank you,” she murmured.

Walker forced his mouth not to tilt into a small smile of triumph. Slowly, he began to gather fabric in his fist, lifting her dress, keeping his arm as immobile as possible. Hal bemoaned the fact that he and Kitty had to leave the following day. Hal and Tony began to discuss a future trout-fishing expedition on the Truckee River. Kitty asked Walker where he’d set up his offices in the North Lake Tahoe area, which started a casual conversation about the status of Lake Tahoe real estate. Since Madeline was a successful real-estate agent of luxury properties in the Tahoe area, her silence seemed a little strange. Walker hastened to talk more, covering her preoccupation.

Even though she didn’t speak, Walker sensed her pitched focus. Her skin felt like warm satin against his fingertips. At first, her leg muscles remained rigid at his touch. His fingers slid against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

It was as if he’d activated a secret button.

She parted her legs. His fingertips moved like five heat-seeking devices.

Three

I
t was happening again, this hot, unstoppable rush of lust. Madeline couldn’t seem to stop it, and she hated that. She despised being at the mercy of Walker.

Her pussy seemed to love it, though.

Taking part in polite dinner conversation while Walker’s fingers inched stealthily toward the juncture of her thighs was like being told she needed to complete a complicated math problem while anticipating a delicious rush of pleasure. She felt his warm, large fingertips skim across the top of her thong panties. She realized she was sweating and reached for her glass of ice water.

“Look at that sunset, Walker. You can’t tell me you had anything like that in Washington, DC,” Tony said as Alessandro served their salads. He nodded toward the floor-to-ceiling panes of glass and the spectacular vision of the sun sinking behind the mountains, sending shards of gold-and-crimson light into the deep blue mirror of the lake.

Madeline barely heard him. Two long fingers had just dipped beneath her panties and slid between her labia. She shivered at the sensation of the hard ridge of his forefinger pressing firmly against her clit. She resisted an urge to press her chilled water glass against her cheek.

“No,” Walker admitted gruffly. “It was always hard to surpass the memories of Tahoe. Everything I saw, everything I experienced, since then came up short.”

Madeline gasped. Thankfully, the Margraves had turned, joining Tony and Walker in their appreciation of the sun sinking behind the distant mountains. They didn’t notice her reaction as Walker began to subtly vibrate his finger against her clit, agitating the hungry flesh until it sizzled.

“Aren’t you hungry, Maddie?” Tony asked a moment later when everyone started on their salads and Madeline just continued to stare blankly out the window.

“Of course. It looks delicious,” she murmured as she picked up the heavy silver salad fork. Later, she wouldn’t have been able to say what she’d put into her mouth. It might have been pickled fish heads, for all she knew. Every cell in her entire body seemed to have pitched into an alert focus of the weight of Walker’s hand, the movements of his finger, the almost electrical pulse of energy that seemed to pass directly from his flesh into her own.

Tony patted her left hand. “I know having someone take a shot at you must have sent you into a tailspin. You haven’t been yourself all day. Even though it happened on Tuesday, the shock of it doesn’t seem to have fully settled until now.”

Madeline blinked and pulled her hand out from under Tony’s. It seemed wrong, somehow, like trying to breathe underwater, to have Tony touch her while Walker did.

“I’m not worried, Tony. Please don’t
worry
about me being worried. It’ll get us nowhere.”

They launched into a topic Madeline had been avoiding for forty-eight hours now.

“I don’t suppose the Carnelian Bay police have done much to uncover any leads about the shooting?” Hal asked.

“There isn’t any Carnelian Bay police,” Walker replied. She yanked her gaze off Walker’s small, sexy smile with effort. He continued to stir her juices as he spoke; his movements tiny, but incendiary. Her breath had started to come jagged and shallow. At first she thought it was panic until she realized it was excitement. She’d never been sexually stimulated in public. The combination was bizarre and intimidating. “Carnelian Bay is unincorporated,” Walker continued. “Some boys from the Truckee police department came to investigate the shooting. I drove to Truckee last night after Tony called me. The shot came from a Ramo M fifty-caliber rifle. Russian.”

A puff of air flew past her lips when Walker’s finger paused. She glanced over at him and saw he stared at Tony. Tony took a large gulp of his wine, his face unusually stiff and sober.

“Russian?” Hal exclaimed as he scraped his salad plate. “Do you suppose that means anything, Walker?”

“It means someone seriously has it out for Madeline. That’s a professional sniper rifle.”

“And the fact that it was Russian? Is that significant?” Kitty asked, looking concerned as she glanced at Madeline.

“Nonsense,” Madeline blurted out. “There’s nothing significant about any of this. The guy who took a potshot at me couldn’t have been much of a
professional
. He missed by a mile.” Despite Madeline’s scathing tone—she was sick of the ridiculous topic of a conspiracy against her life—Madeline subtly pressed up with her hips against the weight of Walker’s hand. If they weren’t careful, the sounds of him moving in her wet pussy would soon become audible. That was how aroused she’d become.

“That is strange,” Walker mused as he idly watched Alessandro start to clear the table. The scent of broiled salmon tickled at Madeline’s nose, as if all the senses of her body had gone on hyperalert because of Walker’s hand in her lap. He diddled at her clit, his actions striking her as tight and focused and casual at once, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for him to manually stimulate her during a small supper party.

“What do you mean?” Tony asked Walker. Madeline noticed Tony looked flushed and guiltily wondered if her own cheeks were pink as well.

“It seems unlikely, that’s all,” Walker said. “The shooter had purchased some high-tech equipment. He’d chosen his spot well. Everything about the incident screams of a professional hit if it weren’t for the fact that he missed so drastically.”

“A warning, perhaps?” Hal asked shrewdly. “You haven’t sold any billionaires a money pit of a house lately, have you Maddie?” He picked up his fork and skewered a new potato covered in a delicate white wine and dill sauce.

“I should be the one seeking revenge on my clients given the steals they’ve been getting in this economy,” Madeline murmured wryly. Thankfully, Kitty changed the subject. Madeline was highly conscious of Walker cutting into his seared salmon, of him sliding his fork between his lips, of the movement of his jaw. She thought the meal would taste like cardboard, but instead flavor burst on her tongue as she ate. It appeared that being sexually stimulated really did awaken all the senses of the body.

As the seconds ticked by and Walker continued relentlessly, anxiety mixed more acutely with her arousal. Her cheeks grew hot. The soles of her feet tingled in her high-heeled sandals. Her clit burned beneath Walker’s finger. The friction was delicious.

She was going to come.

“Excuse me,” she said breathlessly.

Walker’s hand fell out of her lap when she moved her chair back. She stood jerkily. Alessandro, who had been in the process of clearing their meal, steadied her as she rose.

“You okay, Maddie?” Tony asked. He must have noticed her shaky voice and stance.

“I’m fine. Maybe a little too much wine. I’ll … I’ll join you all in a bit if I feel better,” she said. She swept out of the room.

Before she reached the hallway, she heard Tony say in a low, confidential tone, “She’s more upset about this shooting business than she’s letting on.”

Madeline hurried into a large powder room and shut the door. She was in the outer alcove of the bathroom, a grooming area where a lady could sit at the marble-topped vanity and comb her hair or freshen her makeup. Her breathing was coming erratic and choppy. Her clit throbbed. It was very damp between her thighs. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were bright pink and her eyes had the glassy sheen of sexual arousal.

How dare he humiliate her like that in public?

She placed one hand on her pussy and winced at the pressure. She was in the process of lifting the hem of her dress when the door opened and Walker stepped into the bathroom.

Madeline stared at him as he closed and locked the door. He looked shockingly real to her in that bizarre moment, all sleek brawn and tawny male glory. His skin had turned a darker shade of toasty brown, making his eyes look even more electrically blue-green in contrast. The whiskers on his lean jaw were brown with just a hint of gold. Even in her heels, he towered over her in the small room.

He glanced down significantly at her dress bunched in her fist. He stepped toward her. “I’ll be finishing that.”

Anger and arousal swept through her with a wave of heat. “You don’t know how to finish anything you start.”

“I’ll apologize later if you like,” he said through a stiff jaw. “I’ll beg for your forgiveness for leaving, and for the fact that I wasn’t here when your dad passed. I’ll make it up to you. I don’t care how long it takes. But the time for apologies isn’t
now
, Madeline.”

He grabbed a handful of her dress. Her pussy twanged in anticipation, but she jerked down on the fabric in protest.

“You’re going to rip this dress,” she said in accusation, staring up at him.

“Only if you make me,” he muttered. He leaned down and covered her mouth. Her head swam. It was more of an attack than a kiss. Sensation—heat, pressure, his taste, pleasure, hunger—hit her like a slap to the face. After a disoriented moment, she kissed him back, her voraciousness nearly equaling his. Their tongues dueled angrily. She went up on her tiptoes. She placed a hand on the back of his neck and aggressively pulled him closer. He pulled up on her dress, but for some stupid reason, she resisted again, their silent battle of wills ramping up her desire instead of diminishing it.

After a moment of struggling while they ate each other like they were starving, Walker growled in frustration into her mouth. He lifted his head an inch from her face. She cried out in surprise when he grabbed her hands and pushed them to the small of her back. She’d been taken so off guard by his actions, she didn’t have time to struggle. He bound her wrists with one hand and shucked her dress up to her hips with the other.

“Don’t you dare ever walk away from me again when I’m touching you,” he breathed out against her lips. She gasped when his fingers plunged beneath her thong and he stroked her again. This time his whole arm moved as he stimulated her hard and ruthlessly. It felt wickedly good. He tightened his hold on her wrists, forcing her to arch slightly. She stumbled a little, off balance. One of her breasts pressed against his ribs. She moaned and dipped her knees an inch before she straightened, getting friction on her nipple. “Do you hear me, Madeline?”

“I couldn’t come in front of everyone,” she mumbled. She ground her pussy against his hand. She felt so hot. She was going to light up like a crate of fireworks.

“You could have. You just refused,” he muttered, his voice no longer edged with anger. “But you’ll come for me now. Go on, beautiful,” he ordered as he plucked at her upturned lips with his mouth and played her clit with forceful finesse. “You’re juicier than a man’s best wet dream. I’m going to fuck that juicy little pussy as soon as I watch you come.”

His grim, sensual threat finished her. She winced as climax jolted through her, hot and electric. She gave in to it, thrusting her pelvis against his hand, grinding against him, greedy for each blast of bliss that shook her flesh. He watched her while she came. Before she was entirely finished, he placed his hands on her hips.

“Bend over,” he demanded as he turned her, her back to his front.

“Walker … this is crazy,” she mumbled. “We can’t.”

“We will.”

They stood in front of an antique vanity and mirror. She saw his blazing eyes in the reflection. She slowly bent over, her gaze glued to his. He flung her dress up to her waist and jerked her thong down so that it fell around the ankle straps of her sandals. This was madness. Utter insanity. She realized she wasn’t sure what the others thought the two of them were doing. Did they know they were both inside this bathroom together engaging in a sexual frenzy?

She watched Walker tearing at his button fly and realized she didn’t care.

He reached into his back pocket before he yanked his jeans off his hips. It should have pleased her that he rolled on the condom, but instead it highlighted the fact that she’d been about to let him come fuck her naked once again. He spread one hand over a bare ass cheek and glanced up, meeting her gaze in the mirror.

“I came in you earlier. I left my mark. You make sure Tony stays away from my territory.”

Her mouth dropped open. She couldn’t believe he’d said that, let alone said it with such fury. There were depths to Walker’s boldness she hadn’t fully comprehended.

“Do you understand, Madeline?” he asked. In the reflection, she saw that his other hand was between his legs. He was holding his cock in readiness for penetration.

“Tell me you’re not going to let him touch you,” he grated out.

She grasped for the remnants of her self-respect—difficult to do when bent over a vanity with one’s dress around their waist and ass in the air. She felt cornered, trapped between her pride and her desire.

“I’ll promise you no such thing,” she hissed.

For a few seconds he didn’t move, and Madeline knew misery. Then he stepped closer, and she felt the tip of his hard erection pressing against her slit, stretching her delicate tissues. She gasped. Loudly. He placed both his hands on her buttocks. He lifted and parted her, forcing her to make room in her body for his presence. They stared at each other in the mirror as he applied a firm pressure and slid into her inch by inch. Her gaze remained defiant, but her body betrayed her in the way she melted around his teeming cock.

“Your pussy is mine. If you need to learn that the hard way, so be it,” he muttered. He thrust, his jaw clamped tight. Madeline panted, her mouth hanging open, at the sensation of him encased and throbbing deep in her flesh. He flexed back and his length slid out of her. She bit her already cut lip to stop herself from screaming when he plunged his cock back into her and his pelvis smacked against her ass. She keened inside her tightly sealed mouth, but he was already withdrawing and hammering into her again. Walker was a strong man, and his cock was as big as the rest of him. It thrilled her somehow, the difference in their sizes. She couldn’t help but be proud of her ability to take him so well when he took her so hard. Her position left her little protection. Her body was his to take, and take it he did. She tried to hold herself upright as he fucked her with powerful strokes, but it was like trying to remain motionless during a battering storm.