Page 14 of Tender Offer
Someone’s hungry.
“Not the worst, right?” I bite my lip to hide a smirk.
He tosses the last of his fries into his mouth and nods. “We’ll find out tomorrow,” he snickers. “This is my first meal of the day.”
“Preston.”
He lifts his hands. “I know. Time escaped me. I head out again soon.”
“You just got back,” I say around a frown and a sip of my milkshake.
His sigh is as heavy as the dark circles that line his eyes. He’s too young to be this stressed. “Trust me, I know.”
Preston agreed to take things slow, with no expectations. But moments like this—when he’s vulnerable over fast food—seep beyond any barrier we’ve kept in place.
Our fingers interlace when he reaches for my hand, the touch spreading through my skin like warm honey. A warning bell chimes; we’re getting too close.
“When do you leave?”
“Later tonight,” he says.
It shouldn’t bother me that I won’t see him for another couple of weeks, but it does.
“Shouldn’t you be packing or something?”
Two dimples appear through a smile. “I wanted to see you. I always want to see you.”
Chapter 8
Preston
Now
Driving Madison to the airport seemed like a good idea until I took the car off the property. Dual citizenship grants me an American license, which humbles me the moment I put the car in drive. It’s been years since I’ve been behind the wheel, much less on the right-hand side of the road. A few trips around the maintenance building and a YouTube video later, I was ready to go.
That hasn’t stopped my nerves from hovering above the floor next to my nuts.
I don’t get anxious, but I’ve been scratching the same spot on my cheek since I drove the four-door sedan up to the entrance of The Ravine. I’ve dreamed of the day I’d see Madison again. Now that it’s here, I’m doing a shit job of keeping it together.
The steering wheel groans under my grip. I expel a long breath, careful not to swerve us off the road as I steal another glance at her. I’m under no delusions she’s in the car for anything more than a swift exit out of Colorado. I’m merely a means to an end. A despised chauffeur offering passage in scratchy bucket seats with subpar heating.
Madison hasn’t looked my way in the two hours and eight minutes we’ve been on the road. The heat emanating from her body threatens to fog every window.
Her attention is outside, somewhere beyond the snowcapped pines that speed past the guardrail. The glare reflecting in the glass holds every feature I want to relearn by heart.
Long lashes sweep across her cheekbones when she faces forward. The wavy strands that once graced my pillow pull my eyes off the road. William would laugh in my face if he could see me right now. My brother calls me unforgiving in the boardroom, and he’s seen firsthand how ruthless I get. Negotiating and capital allocation require a level of tenacity passed through our DNA. He doesn’t know about Madison and would question why I’m so rattled.
Until her, no onecouldrattle me.
The slopes of her curves drew me to her in the museum. But it was the fire crackling under her beauty smoothed in pecan, the fire that had her seconds from cussing me out, that had me hooked. My attraction is undeniable, but lust gave way to intrigue. It was in her heart where I found peace and my counterpart in her intellect.
How do I start a conversation fifteen years too late?
“I’m sorry, Puff.”
The road bends through dead air, the scent of aged leather and cigarettes mixed with magnolia. Sunlight casts itself over a mountain range. London winters get cold, but not below freezinglike this. Heat sputters through the vents to paint the edges of the frosted windows.
“I don’t know what twisted game you think you’re playing, but I am not the one.” The force of Madison’s words presses into my chest. “I won’t let you hurt me again. I won’t let anyone,” she says, so low I almost miss it. Her chin trembles as she lifts it in spite. There’s nowhere to stop and hold her, not that she’d let me. But I’d endure every scream and bruise if it meant erasing the anguish on her face.
