First Rapture
She pulled out of his grip, her chin tilting to a defiant angle.
“What are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything. I’m saying that there are two obvious explanations.”
She met his smoldering gaze without flinching. Maybe she’d been an idiot to return to Vegas, but she’d be damned if she let Luc intimidate her.
“Fine.” She folded her arms over her stomach, wishing to hell he’d put some clothes on. “Let’s hear your brilliant psychoanalysis.”
A portion of his anger seemed to ease at her taunting tone, his hand reaching to cup her chin. Did he sense her defensive vulnerability?
“It’s possible that you used the memory of me as a subconscious method of keeping other men at a distance,” he said, holding her derisive gaze. “Making me the bad guy was easier than admitting that you couldn’t open yourself up enough to reach your climax.”
“So why would I be able to—”
“Orgasm with me?” He finished her sentence, his lips twitching with a wry amusement at the heat that stained her cheeks.
She scowled. “Yes.”
“Because you trusted me.”
She snorted at his ridiculous explanation. “Then more the fool me.”
He grimaced at yet another reminder of his jackass behavior. “You trusted that I wasn’t going to press for more than you were willing to offer,” he clarified. “In your mind I was the guy who loved ‘em and left ‘em. No danger to your closely guarded heart.”
Madison barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She wasn’t about to admit that far from believing he was going to love and leave her, she’d devoted endless hours to fantasizing over the moment that Luc Angeli, the Dark Angel, would realize she was his one and only soul mate.
She’d truly thought she was the woman to tame the bad boy.
What an idiot.
“So I want to be alone?” she instead played along.
“You want a life where you’re in complete control.” He stepped closer, watching her tense as the heat of his naked body wrapped around her. “Not surprising. You were abandoned by your mother. It had to leave you with a fear of opening yourself up to anyone.”
Her lips thinned. Logically she knew her past had been a driving force in leaving Vegas, as well as in her success in her career. She’d been obsessed with the need to build a sense of security.
But she’d never been bitter.
Her mother was who she was: a weak, pathetic woman who’d spent her whole life searching for happiness that forever remained out of reach.
Madison felt nothing but pity for the woman who’d chosen a life of addicted misery. It certainly hadn’t twisted her ability to connect with other people.
“A fine theory, except for one glaringly obvious flaw,” she said in dry tones.
“And what’s that?”
“I’ve met hundreds of guys that I knew were without a doubt love ‘em and leave ‘em ass**les.” Her smug expression dared him to deny her logic. “Why didn’t I crawl into bed with them?”
He smiled. A slow, wicked curling of his lips.
She shivered, feeling the power of his male charm tingle all the way to the tips of her toes.
“There’s another explanation,” he assured her.
“I’m afraid to ask,” she muttered, taking a discreet step backward.
One touch and she would be melting at his feet.
“You’re still in love with me.”
The breath was slammed from her lungs at his teasing words.
Still in love with him…
The accusation had been tossed at her only hours earlier by Kristen and she’d readily denied the claim. Now she realized that it wasn’t nearly so easy.
No. God, no.
She wasn’t so pathetic that she could have harbored an unrequited love for this man for eight years.
Was she?
A sick ball of dread lodged in the pit of her stomach as she recalled how often she’d compared her male companions to Luc’s dark, sinful beauty. Or how she’d returned from a night out feeling oddly restless, as if she’d been searching for some special quality in her date that was missing.
The sickness intensified. Christ. Could she have more of her mother in her than she originally suspected? Was she constantly seeking the one man she couldn’t have?
Madison gave an automatic shake of her head.
It’d been a stressful night that had become a damned mess.
After a good night’s sleep she’d be laughing at the mere suggestion she could still be in love with Luc Angeli.
“Screw this—I’m out of here,” she growled, pointing a finger in Luc’s face as he held up a hand to halt her retreat. “Touch me and I’ll kick you in the nuts.”
His brows snapped together at her threat, but his hand fell to his side. “Fine. You can run all you want, Maddy. Eventually the past will catch up with you.”
CHAPTER FIVE
If Madison possessed a gun she would have shot the alarm when it jolted her out of her restless sleep.
With a groan, she lifted her head, blearily reaching to grab her phone and end the chirping.
Eight thirty.
Crap. She’d been asleep less than two hours.
She hadn’t actually expected a good night’s sleep after she’d returned to Kristen’s apartment. Not after the way she’d parted from Luc. But it was still aggravating that she’d tossed and turned until after six a.m.
Even worse, she had an appointment at nine thirty that she couldn’t miss.
Cursing at the headache that felt as if it was drilling a hole in her brain, Madison stumbled from bed and into the shower.
Thirty minutes later she was clean and dressed in faded jeans and a casual stretchy top. She pulled her hair into a braid, but she left her face bare of makeup.
Her appointment was at a shop known for its discretion, but there was no point in trying to attract unwanted attention. She was famous enough to occasionally capture the interest of the paparazzi.
Besides, there wasn’t enough makeup in the world to disguise the pallor of her skin or the purple shadows beneath her eyes.
Grabbing her purse, Madison stumbled out of her bedroom, lured toward the kitchen by the scent of freshly brewed coffee.
She ignored Kristen’s curious gaze as she moved to take a seat at the breakfast bar, deeply relieved when a cup of steaming black coffee was placed on the counter in front of her.
“Thank god,” she muttered.
“And good morning to you too, sunshine,” Kristen mocked, appearing nauseatingly perfect in her black pencil skirt and crisp white shirt. There wasn’t so much as a strand of honey hair out of place.