Take a Chance on Me(35)

Too late, she realized she hadn’t changed.

Why would she? She’d been going to watch TV. Clad in only a tank top and cotton sweat shorts, she rocked on the balls of her feet, wondering what he must think.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, laying the book on the nightstand.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said lamely.

She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she detected the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Do you want me to make you some warm milk?”

“No,” she said. Her gaze shifted to the bed and she swallowed, then jerked her attention back to Mitch. What was she doing invading his room in the dead of night?

They stared at each other.

A clock, somewhere in the room, ticked as each second passed.

“Come here, Maddie,” he said, finally.

She waited for sanity to prevail.

It didn’t.

She was inviting herself into his bedroom; he was bound to get the wrong idea. She twisted her hands and shifted in the doorway.

His lips quirked. “I promise not to bite.”

“I’m not here for—” Her voice came out like a croak, and she cleared her throat. “You know . . . sex.”

The smile grew. “Understood. Now come here and tell me why you can’t sleep.”

The muscles in her shoulders relaxed. How did a man so sexually dangerous make her feel so safe?

She didn’t understand it, but that didn’t make it any less true.

She walked over to the bed and climbed up next to him. The mattress bounced as she settled. She focused on the intricate headboard instead of the man in front of her and asked, “Is this an antique?”

He nodded. “It was a wedding present from my grandfather to my grandma.”

She traced the pattern with her fingers. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it is,” he said, in a thoughtful tone. “They were honeymooning in France and she fell in love with it. When they got home, it was waiting for her.”

“How romantic,” Maddie said, studying the rich detail work. Even back then, it must have cost a fortune.

“My grandpa was desperately in love with her. If she wanted something, he moved heaven and earth to get it for her.”

What would that be like? To be loved like that.

Steve always acted like he’d do anything for her, but if he’d loved her unconditionally, wouldn’t he have liked her more?

She looked back at Mitch. “How’d they meet?”

He chuckled, a soft, low sound. “You’re not going to believe this.”

She crossed her legs. “Try me.”

He flashed a grin. “I swear to God, this is not a line.”

“Oh, this is going to be good.” She shifted around, finding a dip in the mattress she could get comfortable in.

He stretched his arm, drawing Maddie’s gaze to the contrast of his golden skin against the crisp white sheets. “My grandfather was old Chicago money. He went to Kentucky on family business and on the way home, his car broke down.”

Startled, Maddie blinked. “You’re kidding me.”

He shook his head, assessing her. “Nope. He broke down at the end of the driveway and came to ask for help. My grandmother opened the door, and he took one look at her and fell.” He pointed to a picture frame on the dresser. “She was quite beautiful.”

Unable to resist, Maddie slid off the bed and walked over, picking up the frame, which was genuine pewter. She traced her fingers over the glass. It was an old-fashioned black-and-white wedding picture of a handsome, austere, dark-haired man and a breathtakingly gorgeous girl with pale blond hair in a white satin gown.

“He asked her to marry him after a week,” Mitch said. “It caused a huge uproar and his family threatened to disinherit him. She was a farm girl, and he’d already been slated to marry a rich debutante who made good business sense.”

Maddie carefully put the frame back and crawled back onto the bed, anxious for the rest of the story. “Looks like they got married despite the protests.”

Mitch’s gaze slid over her body, lingering a fraction too long on her breasts before looking back into her eyes. “He said he could make more money, but there was only one of her. In the end, his family relented, and he whisked her into Chicago high society.”

“It sounds like a fairy tale.”

“It was,” Mitch said, his tone low and private. The story and his voice wrapped her in a safe cocoon where the world outside this room didn’t exist. “In the sixty years they were together, they never spent more than a week a part. He died of a heart attack and she followed two months later.”

She studied the bedspread, picking at a piece of lint. “I guess if you’re going to get married, that’s the way to do it.”

“Any other way sounds pointless.” The sheets rustled as he took a pillow and propped it up against the headboard.

“Do your parents have a marriage like your grandparents?” Maddie asked.

He made a cold, scornful sound, and Maddie peered up at him. A hard, remote look chilled his eyes. “No.” He delivered the word in a flat monotone.


Willing to let the subject drop, she cleared her throat. “It’s not very proper of me to barge into your bedroom in the dead of night.”