The Scottish Bride (The Brides of Holland Springs Book 5)(10)
Chapter Five
Four months later
Maddox was a man without a team.
Without a country.
Hell, he wasn’t even in his mother’s home state of North Carolina. His father would call him a coward and lecture him up one side and down the other, as his mother was fond of saying. Maddox would be forced to listen, because that was what a good son did.
Only, he wasn’t a good son anymore, and he bloody missed Scotland.
He bloody missed her. The woman who should have been his until the day he drew his last breath.
But hadn’t he screwed that relationship to hell and back?
He couldn’t dwell in the past, or on the things he should have done and said. Instead, he needed to concentrate on the future, and on his new position at Reed Brothers.
The New York City tattoo shop had provided an unexpected sanctuary. For four months, he had hidden out... until a sodding camera crew had taken up residence.
Maddox bent over his latest sketch, pencil in hand, as he feathered out the lines along the perimeter. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d drawn a trio of doves in midflight, or why he had given it a rather feminine slant.
Perhaps it was due to the film crew’s reason for being at Reed’s in the first place. Ten artists would be tattooing ten individuals to help them remember and honor someone or an event in their past.
Only, doves also signified new beginnings.
He shook his head, a grimace pulling his mouth down at the corners. “No use for that.” New beginnings were not for him. He didn’t deserve one.
“Yo, Mad Max,” Honor called, and Maddox slid his gaze her way. She was a fellow artist, a damned good one, at that—but she took great delight in needling the hell out of him. “Warner can’t make it, so guess who the newest star is?”
“I told Matthew that I—”
“Sucks to be you, buddy.”
“I won’t do it.”
Honor cocked a hip, giving him an impervious stare as the camera crew appeared out of thin air. “It’s only your job, Mad Dog.” As she pivoted and began to walk to her private station, the secondary camera crew was hot on her heels.
A couple of minutes later, he heard, “Honor Sloan, meet your client, one of New York City’s finest, Officer Brent Copeland.”
“Oh, no.”
Automatically, Maddox started in her direction, but when those negative exclamations turned into full-on banshee, he decided to let things work themselves out. Honor was pissed—not scared.
A man’s low but distinctly clear, “Fuck, no,” punctuated the end of her screeching. Looked like neither party was happy at the moment.
Maddox couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Your client is here,” the production assistant said.
He groaned. “I’m not taking Warner’s client. He can do the job himself.”
“You did agree to be the backup artist in case of sickness—”
“He’d better be dead.” Maddox meant it. The last thing he wanted was to be on the telly again. His fifteen minutes of former fame had felt like fifteen centuries, especially after the accident.
Not an accident. His bloody fault.
Appearing slightly taken aback, the production assistant gave him a tight smile. “Do it or you’re out, Maddox. It’s the rules. You signed off on it.”
Maddox cursed under his breath. “Fine. Send Warner’s client in.” What’s the worst that could happen?
A woman of average height with long, brown hair threaded with caramel highlights walked into the room. She wore huge sunglasses that obscured half her face, but her lips... her lips were an erotic dream. He’d tasted lips like hers once.
He sucked in a breath. It couldn’t be her.
She removed the sunglasses, shoved them in her purse, and then lifted her gaze. Eyes the color of the forest met his.
“Maddox Stewart, meet your client, Cadence Romanov—she traveled all the way from Holland Springs to be here today.”
“Hello,” Cadence said, her voice all at once a balm to his soul and the sound of nightmares.
Maddox clenched his fists. He wanted to run. He wanted to stay. He was a fucking idiot. “I can’t do this.”
Cadence tipped up her chin, her cute nose slightly flaring. “Can’t or won’t?”
The PA’s gaze bounced between them. “Do you guys know each other?”
“Aye.” Maddox’s jaw became so tight it was nearly impossible to breathe, much less talk in anything other than one-word grunts.
The PA gave them a tell-us-more look.
“He’s my big brother’s best friend. I’ve known him my entire life,” Cadence elaborated in that sweet drawl that used to set his body on fire. Hell, forget used to—he was burning for her right now.
“You’re friends with the Romanovs?”
Maddox nodded once, pain filling his heart. Why did she have to be Warner’s client? “My father is in business with them. Well, with Sebastian, Cadence’s uncle, anyway.”
“My dad never cared for the family business,” Cadence said, taking another step closer. “It’s why he went into acting. I decided to be like Momma and write.” The dark jeans she wore hugged her shapely legs while the loose, one-shoulder top barely concealed her perfect breasts.