Tempted by the Billionaire(27)

Ivy returned the direct stare. “You don’t sound like you wanna.”

Madeline’s stomach clenched with anxiety. “We have to do things we don’t want, sometimes.”

“Daddy says that all the time.” She let out a huff; a perfect, grown up sigh. “Life isn’t just about fun, Ivy Louise.”

“Well, your daddy sounds like a smart man.”

Ivy nodded. “He is. Why don’t you wanna go?”

Madeline turned away from Ivy’s darkly inquisitive gaze. A trawler in the distance bobbed up and down, looking like a tiny piece of red flotsam on the surface of the ocean, from where she sat. “This is my favourite place to sit, too.”

“It is?” Ivy raised her eyebrows. “Why?”

It was where she’d been, when he’d proposed. She allowed herself the rare indulgence of closing her eyes and remembering that perfect, perfect moment. All the more spectacularly wonderful for how short lived her pleasure had been. He’d gone down on bended knee, and in the late afternoon sun, his blonde hair had caught the dusk, showing shades of orange and peach. His skin had been golden, his eyes glowing as blue as the sky. And he’d promised to love her forever and always, and asked her to become his wife. Only he hadn’t loved her forever and always, and she hadn’t become his wife. She’d said yes, but fate and destiny had apparently had other ideas.

She blinked, as if the sheer force of her eyelashes batting against her cheeks could push the memories away. “Because someone very wise once told me that if you squint, you can see all the way to Portugal.”

Ivy laughed now, a sweet sound, like popcorn bursting in the microwave. “No, silly. That’s me.”

“Oh! So it is.” She grinned. “It’s the best seat in town. Have you ever watched a sunrise from here?”

“Nope.” She shook her head from side to side.

Madeline ground one of her pumps into the gravel, enjoying the way it made a crackling sound beneath her feet. “I have.” She was talking to Ivy, but sinking inexorably back in time. “I used to make myself a thermos of tea and ride my bike to town, when the sky was still black, and the stars were still shining. I loved sitting here, and watching the first bits of pink streak across the sky. Like fingers reaching for something they can never quite touch. Then there’s orange, flame bright, and insistent, and finally, the sun. An enormous fiery ball that comes from nowhere and burns into the blackness of the night.” She sighed. “I used to sit here and sip my tea, and wonder how many times the sun had made that same journey. How many times I’d get to see it in my lifetime.”

She looked at her little companion, surprised to realise that her philosophical ramblings had entranced the child, rather than bored her. “Wow. It sounds like something out of a very good story.”

Madeline did her best to hide her smile but her lips twitched at the corners. “Yes, you’re right. A good sunrise is a bit like a storybook.”

“Maybe you could… I mean… maybe one day while you’re here I could meet you? To see the sun come up?”

Madeline felt a faint breeze of disapproval. “You don’t know me, Ivy. You shouldn’t invite strangers to meet with you.”

Ivy was chastened. “Oh.” She dropped her eyes. “You’re right. It’s just… I mean…”

“It’s okay,” Madeline took pity on her. “I’m nice. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m friends with the president, remember? But, in general, you should check with your folks when you meet someone new.”

Madeline couldn’t believe she was giving such grown up advice. When had she become an expert on parenting? She shook her head. Children were not something she had any experience with. She had no clue if her advice was good or bad. Uncharacteristically nervous, she stood. “I’d better be going.”

Ivy nodded, and fixed her gaze back out to sea. “Nice talking to you.”

“You too. I might see you around.”

She slid her glasses back over her eyes and quickened her pace a little, though nothing would save her from a firm Kenneth Bartlett lecture now.

“Ivy! Ivy Louise, are you out here?”

It wasn’t the words, so much as the voice, that had her whipping around so hard and fast she almost gave herself whiplash. The fog was thick. She could just make out the tall, broad shouldered figure cutting through the clouds. Her shaking legs carried her back to Ivy on autopilot.

“That’s my dad,” Ivy said, with another of her perfect little eye rolls. “He gets a bit annoyed when I disappear.”

With good reason, Madeline was tempted to chide gently. But she couldn’t speak. Her mouth was dry. She was not given to nerves. At least, not outwardly. She had met celebrities and politicians all her life. But the approach of one man had her body shaking as though she were a fish hooked on the end of a line.

“Ivy? How many times have I told you to let me know when you come out here?”

He was wearing faded blue jeans and a black sweater. Damn it, he looked good. Eight years and he was so much more handsome than he had been when they’d parted. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and straightened her spine. Anyone looking at Madeline May Howard would have thought she was supremely in control of the situation. But she knew differently. She was a tangle of emotions, waiting for the axe to fall.

“I was just meeting someone new,” Ivy defended quickly, pointing to Madeline.

She stayed where she was, her feet planted to the path. The moment Harrison’s eyes lifted to Madeline, she was sure her heart gave out.

“Daddy, this is Madeline.”

He was as shocked as she. Perhaps more so, for Madeline had been coming home, and had known there was a chance she would run into her past. He, possibly, didn’t know the entire Bartlett family was descending on the ranch to appear to farewell Kenneth with a level of respect that was befitting a man of his reputed standing.

His eyes – blue like ice chips – raked over her from top to bottom. No one had ever made Madeline feel ridiculous, for the simple reason that she had been taught to value appropriateness over all else. She was always impeccably groomed, utterly beyond reproach. But the way Harrison’s eyes analysed her elegant chignon, then her designer coat and suit, down to her heels, made Madeline want to shuffle her feet uncomfortably. She didn’t, of course, but the desire was there.

“Go and see your Gran. She’s got a hot cocoa for you.”

“Yippee!” Ivy slipped off the bench and grabbed her father’s fingers. “Daddy, can I come watch the sunrise with Madeline one morning?”

“No, pumpkin. Madeline won’t be in town long enough for that.”

Ivy’s crestfallen face was a picture. She opened her mouth to argue forth another point but Harrison silenced her. “Go. Now.”

The little girl threw one last wistful glance in Madeline’s direction then scampered off.

Leaving Madeline alone with the man she’d once promised to marry.

The man she did, and always would, love with all her heart.

“Hello, Harrison.”

CHAPTER TWO

Such a small statement to make. Feet of gravel spread between them but it might as well have been a torrent of raging water, for all the ease with which they could traverse it. He wedged his hands in his pockets and continued to stare at her, that slightly mocking cynicism cast into his face.

“It’s you.” His voice was just as she remembered it. Like butter on warm bread, so smooth and deep, it inspired a physical reaction in her body. The words that voice had whispered to her; the promises it had made.

She almost groaned at the intensity of her feelings.

“Yes. It’s me.”

He frowned, and as he took a step closer, she saw that there were some lines around his eyes now, that had not been there years ago. Laughter lines, they told of a happy life. A life far more filled with mirth than her own. The old Madeline would have pulled her lip between her teeth and stared out at the sea. The new Madeline lifted her sunglasses and met his blue eyes head on. Unflinchingly, unapologetically unafraid.

“How are you, Harrison?”

He seemed to make a similar effort to pull himself together. “I’m fine. What brings you to Whitegate?”

She blanched at the very idea of mentioning her father to this man. For her father had been instrumental in pulling apart, at the seams, the garment of their relationship. “Kenneth.”

As she might have predicted, his dark blue eyes flecked with an emotion that matched the storm brewing over the Atlantic. “Did the old bastard finally summon you back? Wasn’t finished beating you over the head with your perceived errors yet?”

She didn’t react. Harrison’s hatred for her father was matched only by her own. “He’s dying.”

“Shit.” He shook his head and dragged a hand through the honeyed crop. “I’m sorry, Maddie.” The childhood nickname came easily. He shook his head again, as if to erase any trace of that long-forgotten intimacy. “Madeline. I’m sorry, Madeline.”

She nodded. “Usually, I’d try to look grief-stricken. Or at least appropriately sad. That would be transparently false with you though, wouldn’t it?”