The Rogue (The Moorehouse Legacy #4)(59)

As he looked around, feeling cheated, Mad came in through a door.

Even though it was dark and she was only a shadow, he knew she was gloriously unclothed and looking at him. When she didn’t come closer, he tried to call out her name, but for some reason, he couldn’t speak. Desperate to communicate, he used his muscles and bones to talk for him. He arched his back and swiveled his hips, offering himself to her and not just his body, either.

She stepped up to the bed and a light suddenly flared.

She had clothes on now, a whole lot of them. In fact, she was wearing a ski jacket and snow pants.

As he lay naked on the bed, Mad stared down at him as if considering his invitation to have him. Then she shook her head and zipped up the parka even higher on her neck. I’m sorry, she said. You leave me cold.

Spike bolted upright, not so much waking up as being ejected out of the dream.

He cursed and rubbed his hair.

Well, wasn’t that symbolism apt. Her covered in Gore-Tex and goose down. Him naked and aching. Couldn’t his subconscious be a little more original?

He groaned as he shifted his legs off the bed and got to his feet, so aroused his whole body felt stiff. Disgusted with himself, he went to the bathroom and splashed cold water in his face until he was calmer. Then he checked the clock. 4:00 a.m.

As he’d fallen into his bed around 2:45 a.m., by all that was reasonable, he should be heading back for more shut-eye. But even after that endless, miserable motorcycle ride through the storms he knew he wasn’t getting any more sleep tonight.

The apartment was hot as hell and he needed some air, so he put a pair of boxers on and wandered out of his room, being as quiet as possible. On the way to the little porch in the front, he paused beside Jaynie’s partially closed door. Her light was off and for once, it appeared she wasn’t awake.

When he’d come home unexpectedly, she’d been surprised to see him, but she hadn’t asked questions. For which he’d been grateful.

He left his sister sleeping and went across the living room. He was about to open the porch’s screen door when he stopped. Up on the wall, there was a calendar of dogs, one that Jaynie had hung. July featured a border collie leaping into the air to catch a Frisbee.

When Spike looked at the date, he felt a twisting sense of vertigo.

Two days before the anniversary of him killing Jaynie’s abuser.

Good Lord.

Over the last couple of years, he hadn’t thought of the past very much. Not the specifics of it, at any rate. But all the stuff with Mad had dusted off the memories and now, with that number on the calendar so close, everything came back even harder.

Man, did he need some air.

Unlatching the screen, he stepped onto the shallow porch. The night smelled of pine and summer warmth, a thick, woodsy aroma that under different circumstances would have eased him.

Not tonight.

And not for a long time, he feared. There would be no easing him for a very long time.





Chapter Fourteen




Two days later, Mad sat in Sean’s kitchen, surveying the mess of papers on his glass table. It looked as if a snow cloud had opened up and dumped a load in his breakfast alcove.

Around eleven o’clock last night, she and Sean had ended up dismantling the three board books; it was either that or risk tearing pages from all the flipping back and forth among the sections. And that wasn’t the worst of it. A legal-size pad had been used down to its cardboard back, its scattered innards marked with her handwriting and Sean’s diagrams.

She was amazed at how far she’d come.

Well…how far she had come in regards to the board meeting.

There had been no progress with the situation involving Spike; she was still a mess on that front. But at least in the midst of that, she’d truly come to understand Value Shop’s business basics. And she knew what was going to happen at the board meeting—especially when it came to Richard’s acquisition proposal.

Sean had been incredible. They’d stayed up half the night with him patiently answering her questions and explaining things. When he’d said he was impressed by how quickly she was catching on, she’d been so overwhelmed she’d burst into tears, shocking them both.

She wasn’t a candidate for an MBA, not by a long shot. And she wasn’t angling for Richard’s job or anything like that. But she did feel she had enough of a grasp on the fundamentals to have one very strong, very important opinion about the company’s future.

When the doorbell went off, the surprise of the noise brought her back into focus. Stretching, she put down her pen and padded in her bare feet across the penthouse’s floors. The marble and hardwood were cool under her feet; the Orientals warm and a little furry.

“Did you forget your key, Sean?” she said as she opened the door. “And weren’t we going to meet after the meeting—”

Amelia was standing on the penthouse’s threshold, looking like a St. John ad.

“Hello, Madeline,” the woman said quietly. “I was hoping you would be here, but I wasn’t sure.”

Forty-eight hours ago, Mad’s response would have been to slam the door. But now all she thought about was that look on Spike’s face after their argument at the B and B.

Maybe her half sister showing up was fate. Or maybe Mad was just opening the door to get hurt worse.

Ah, but this was not part of the pattern, was it? Before, the men had come back. Never Amelia.