What a Girl Wants (28 page)

Read What a Girl Wants Online

Authors: Selena Robins

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Contemporary, #Fiction

 

Maddie fit into Alex’s arms as if she’d always belonged there, he thought, taking his time, toweling her dry. After racing back to their room, they’d shared an intimate shower. Even in the darkness he could find the slope of her lower back. He navigated by touch, knowing exactly where to press his lips and where to stroke her to hear sighs of pleasure.

He had memorized her every curve, could locate the dimple on her sexy ass blindfolded. He had tattooed the size and location of the diamond shaped birthmark on her inner left thigh into his mind. Her natural sweet scent intoxicated and released a fierce desire in him, as no other woman ever had. Her skin was softer than feather pillows and smoother than that on any other woman.

If sunshine and laughter had a flavor it would be hers, with a hint of honey. He could feast on her daily, from the tip of her earlobes to the hollow behind her knees, and still want more.

He threw the towel in the corner, and she stepped into his waiting arms. He wanted her again, more now than ever before, but for a split second, a wall of uncertainty slipped between them. So much was still left unsaid. There was so much he still needed to explain to her.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he inhaled a deep breath. Tomorrow. He’ll tell her tomorrow. He sat on the bed, pulling her on to his lap. She radiated heat as he crushed her lips against his. Once again, his body hummed with a forceful desire to bury himself deep inside her.

Every time he climbed to his peak, he was filled with a pleasurable pressure of volcanic megaton heat. Each release liberated an explosion of colorful intensity, surpassing anything he’d ever experienced before.

Each caress, each kiss and each thrust only brought on a passionate urge to keep touching and tasting every inch of her, which he did. All night.

They lay in silence after freeing their pent-up desires many times over. Now, he was ultra-relaxed and his heart rate dropped to a few murmurs over comatose. A sense of completeness and well-being warmed him. All was right with the universe as Maddie lay nestled in his arms, sleeping soundly, her legs intertwined with his.


Aloha au `ia `oe
,” he whispered, drawing her closer into the crook of his arm.

Whistling winds buffeted against the window as he lay, staring at the ceiling. He tried to will himself to sleep but sadness trumped his euphoria.

Glancing at her beautiful and peaceful face, he couldn’t at that moment understand why a dark thought popped into his mind—the possibility that this would be the last night she’d lie in his arms. He pulled her closer to him, her skin warming the coldness that had suddenly crept up his spine.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Secrets are made to be found out with time.”

—Charles Sanford

 

The next morning, Carl gestured toward Maxwell’s breakfast of eggs Benedict, croissants and fruit left untouched on the patio table. “Shall I instruct Thierry to make you something else?”

Pouring a cup of coffee, Maxwell shook his head. “I’m fine.” He followed Carl’s gaze to the sealed envelope Dr. Noa had delivered, still lying on the table. “No, I haven’t opened it.”

He’d spent half the night debating whether he should open it or toss it out and start over by asking Madison’s permission to submit to a DNA test. That way they could both find out the results together, and he wouldn’t have to appear underhanded. He’d chosen the latter, in the hopes that it would give their relationship a fresh start based on mutual trust.

Pointing toward the dishes, he told Carl, “No need to concern yourself with this.” He glanced at his watch. “Your flight leaves in four hours.”

“I’m packed and ready to go,” Carl answered. “Thanks again for arranging the necessary documents. I am a wee bit nervous returning to the homeland. But it’s time to make things right.”

“I’ll join you and Winship as soon as I settle things here.” Maxwell had hired Nigel Winship, a reputable UK immigration lawyer, who boasted a ninety-nine percent success rate in similar cases. “Jorgen should be back soon. He’ll take you to the airport.” Maxwell rose as he saw Jorgen walk through the patio doors. “And here he is now. Jorgen,—” he nodded, “—how did it go?”

“Sir, there’s been a change of plans.” Jorgen tilted his head to the side. “She insisted on seeing you now. She didn’t want to check into the hotel first. I hope this isn’t an inconvenience.”

“Don’t worry about Maxwell. He knows I’m not a patient woman.” She walked past Jorgen, her spiked heels clicking on the patio stones, and approached him with her head held high, her shoulders back, as if to prove something to herself, to the world and especially to him.

She extended her hand, her eyes traveling up and down his frame. “The years have been kind to you, Maxwell.”

He shook her hand. Her long, slim fingers were as delicate as the first time he’d touched them. Her alabaster face, even though thirty years older, remained unlined and astonishingly beautiful. Her eyes were still the color of cappuccino, but now they held a cold and cynical expression, rather than a playful one. Her hair was cut in a short bob. She was still svelte, and in her classic ivory pantsuit, managed to look sophisticated and seductive at once. A blush-toned lace camisole peeked out from her jacket’s plunging neckline, hinting at enticing cleavage. Her mild rose essence filled the short space between them. He erased the sudden memory of how her skin felt under his fingertips and let go of her hand.

“Felicia.” He nodded, pulling out a chair for her. “Thank you for coming.”

She sat and crossed her leg. “I had a choice?”

“Welcome to Makana and my home.” He sat across from her. “Is there anything I can offer you while we are still speaking cordially to one another?”

Jorgen and Carl slipped into the house. They probably sensed that privacy was in order. They were correct, of course. Maxwell was certain it wouldn’t be too long before their civility detonated into an encounter as flammable as the passion they’d once shared.

 

Maddie and Alex were lounging on the balcony after a late breakfast. She’d dug into her birthday basket and was now enjoying the homemade goodies. “I should just attach these biscottis to my hips instead of eating them.”

Alex leaned back in his chair, his feet up on the balcony railing, finishing the New York Times crossword. “Your hips are fine.” He threw the pen and paper on the table. “And you have an incredibly sexy ass. Also, hot legs. And great toes. Nicely painted if I say so myself—”

She threw a napkin at his head. “I wasn’t fishing for compliments, you dork.”

He got up, bent over, kissed her, snagged the remainder of the cookie out of her hand and ate it. “Ready for the beach?”

In the ocean, they swam races, with Maddie winning one out of three. They joined other couples in the hotel pool for a game of volleyball. She sat straddled on Alex’s shoulders.

Looking up at her, he said, “You had to eat more biscotti, didn’t you?”

“You are so going to get it.” She dunked his head underwater, hopped off his shoulders and spiked the oncoming beach ball over the net.

After lying in the sun to dry off, they walked back to their hotel room hand in hand, chatting about the island and continuing to rib each other.

Maddie called the front desk at the hotel in Makana to check messages. There were none.

“Expecting an important call?” Alex asked.

She shrugged. “Thought Uncle George or Felicia—never mind.” Grabbing a cold bottle of water from the bar fridge, she stepped out on to the balcony.

“Hey.” Alex followed and lifted her chin. “What’s up?”

She took a long swig of water. “Do you realize how lucky you are? Your family, your parents, they’re so normal. I’m surprised you have the hang-ups and issues that you do.”

He gave her a hesitant smile. “Thanks, I think.”

“You know what I mean.” She sat on a chair. “Your family is the picture of perfection.”

He dropped an envelope on the patio table and sat on the reclining chair beside her. “Nobody’s family is perfect. That’s not possible. My parents bickered. I remember a few loud disagreements. I’m sure they’ve been frustrated with each other and probably hurt each other’s feelings at times. But it always got resolved.”

“Your parents?” The only resolutions Maddie had witnessed over the years had taken place in lawyers’ offices. “They’ve been married for what? Forty-one years?”

“Forty-four.” He lay back in his chair. “It’s not like they were at each other’s throats every day, but with three active kids, stress from work, life in general, they did have disagreements. What I remember most though, was how they were thoughtful of each other. They always gave each other space and quiet time.” He smiled. “My mother always said her sense of humor helped her with us kids and my headstrong father. She also claims that she operated on the assumption that men stopped maturing after the age of twelve.” He reached out and tugged on her hand. “Come sit here.”

She rose, settling between his legs on the reclining lounge chair. “Your mother’s a riot.”

He kissed the top of her head. “My parents never let the outside noise, the distractions and temptations, slip into their world. And like I said, they each put the other’s needs before their own. I’m not talking about either of them being submissive. It’s about knowing that your partner has your back at all times.”

She laced her fingers through his. “You think they ever thought of throwing in the towel?”

He rubbed his thumb inside her palm. “Maybe at some point. But their love and commitment was strong and secure enough to get them through it.”

“For a hard-nosed reporter, that was rather poetic.” She lifted their intertwined hands and kissed his wrist. “Hallmark called and they want to hire you.”

“I surprise myself sometimes.” He chuckled. “Speaking of Hallmark.” Letting go of her hands, he leaned over and grabbed an envelope from the table. “I was asked to give this to you.”

She took the envelope he handed her and opened it. It was a card with a birthday wish and a message that said the writer looked forward to seeing her again in a few days. It was signed by Maxwell Hollister. She laid her head against Alex’s chest and closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “That was nice of him. It’s not that I’m ungrateful, but a stranger has more consideration than my own family. I didn’t get an e-mail, a phone call, nothing from Felicia or Uncle George.”

“Is that what’s been bothering you?”

Maddie put the card on the table, got up and leaned against the railing, facing Alex. “Among other things, yeah.” She rubbed her forehead. “I’ve been doing some thinking about what you asked me. You know, about going to London.” She blew out a breath. “One of the reasons I’m hesitating to make a decision is because I…well…I’m trying to find out who I am.”

Alex got up, standing in front of her he wrapped his hands around her shoulders. “Are you kidding me? Out of all the people I know, you’re the one person who knows exactly who she is and what she wants.”

She shrugged. “For as long as I could remember, I’ve wanted to see if my gene pool had a deep end.” She met his inquiring gaze. “I gave up trying to get a straight answer from Felicia, and I was getting nowhere on my own. So about six months ago I hired a private investigator to help me find my father. I thought it would take him longer than it did.

“He’s been calling me here with updates and requests for more money, of course. A few days ago he sent me some information. I’m still not clear on a few things. Reece is helping me. Before I could get Felicia to confirm some things the other night, we had a fight and I haven’t heard from her since. From what I gather she…well, she went to a fertility clinic and…” She stopped talking when she noticed Alex had paled. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I wish you would have told me this before.” He threw his head back and let out an audible sigh. “I could have saved you some time and money.”

“Why? What are you talking about?”

“It’s Maxwell Hollister. This assignment. Maddie.” His voice softened. “I’m just going to come out and say it.” Taking hold of both her hands, he said, “There’s a possibility that Maxwell Hollister is your biological father.”

“What are you talking about?” Her breath quickened. “How is that possible?” Alex was so off base with this one. Right? “A man like him wouldn’t be donating at a fertility clinic—”

“I can only tell you what I found out. I have no idea what this fertility clinic stuff you discovered is about.” He guided her to a chair, encouraging her to sit. “I’ll fill you in with what I know.”

She sat, mainly because a gust of wind would have knocked her over.

Listening without interrupting him, she focused on his every word. He told her that he’d had a few hunches even before arriving on the island, and they’d intensified shortly after they arrived. He’d investigated, finding out that both she and Hollister shared the same hemoglobin disorder and shellfish allergy. But the real tip-off came when she told him about the maid cleaning her hairbrush. He discovered she had been collecting strands of her hair so that Hollister could run a DNA test. He confronted Hollister and the billionaire told him that even without the test results, he was convinced she was indeed his daughter. Alex also told her he was aware they were being followed on the island by some sleazeball PI who conspired with Crystal-Bitch-Washington to expose her secret parentage.

Blood rushed to her head, along with an overwhelming feeling of resentment. Needing some time and space to digest everything, she stood, knocking the chair over. She slid the patio door open and ran into the room.

She bent over forward with her hands on her thighs, taking deep breaths to get rid of the head rush.
He knew. He knew all this time. How could he keep this from me?

She heard Alex enter the room. He put his arms around her waist. She slapped them away. “So let me understand this,” she said as evenly as she could, concentrating on breathing, and straightening, “you suspected Maxwell Hollister could be my father, but instead of coming to me about it, you went behind my back to Maxwell to verify it?

“You also knew I was sent on this assignment for this reason? Who the hell’s side are you on?” She put her hands up to keep him away from her. The last thing she wanted was any physical contact with him. “Spill it. What else do you know? When did they meet? How did they meet? Where has he been all these years? Why hasn’t he tried to contact me?”

Alex looked miserable. But why the hell did
he
look as hurt as she felt? What was he holding back? Again, she shoved his hands away when he came to wrap his arms around her.

“I told Hollister that if the subject came up I’d tell you there was a possibility you were his daughter,” he said. “You’ll have talk to your mother and Hollister. It’s their call to give you the details. I’ll answer what I can, but I gave my word that I wouldn’t divulge—”

“What? You know more and you’re not going to tell me? Damn you, Alex. I expect lies, manipulation and disloyalty from my family, especially Mommy Dearest. But I sure as hell don’t expect this shit from one of my closest friends who knows the crap I’ve put up with.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before now that you hired a PI to find your father? I would have helped you. We could have figured this out together even before coming to Hawaii—”

“Don’t you try to turn this around on me,” she yelled. “I don’t owe you an explanation. You owe
me
plenty. You should have told me right away about Maxwell Hollister, DNA tests, threats from your ex-bitch about exposing my personal life.”

He took a step toward her, but again she backed away.

“Maddie, calm down. I only got confirmation from him the other night. We haven’t had time to get into any of this—”

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down.” She put her hands on her hips. “Okay, not sharing the England deal with me, I can accept that. It’s business. Your decision didn’t affect me—”

“You’re wrong about that.”

“Whatever. But this information about who my father is. This is my damn life.”

“We didn’t have a lot of time to discuss this until today. Sometimes, you’re not the easiest person to have a serious discussion with—”

“I see.” At the moment her tongue worked faster than her mind. “So you couldn’t squeeze in a few minutes to say: ‘Maddie, now that I’m finished screwing your brains out, I’ll be gone for three years and by the way, this whole assignment was a way to get you on the island so that you could meet your father. I had a
hunch
something was going on, but I figured you wouldn’t be in the mood to get our freak on if we dealt with serious issues’.”

His eyes darkened, like liquid black ink. “That is so damn unfair—”

“Unfair? I’ll be as unfair and pissed off as I want to be.” Her mouth was on autopilot. Reason took a back seat. “You and Washington are one and the same. Anything for a story, right? Was this going to be your next award-winning article?”

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