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He met Madison’s gaze, his story hanging between them, an invitation to understand him better. Alex searched her eyes. Pity was the last thing he needed. And he didn’t find it. With Madison, it was always empathy.Could I be more in love with her?
Alex’s smile faded, replaced by a somber look. “It’s... difficult,” he admitted, his voice soft. “Stassi’s condition... it’s not something she asked for. Nobody would choose to live in fear or in a constant state of confusion. She’s my mother and I care about her. I always will.”
Madison cupped his cheeks, rubbing his scruff. “Of course, you will.”
He paused, rubbing his temples as he grappled with his thoughts. “But now…Last I saw her, she was in a mental institution in upstate New York. Every check I sent was rejected. Every time I visited, I was turned away. And now…I mean, look at this place.”
Madison looked around as he gestured wildly. Even the small boudoir bathroom had gold gilded wallpaper and exquisite finishes.
“The clothes, the grandeur. A guard-gated mansion. I need to understand how.”
Madison thought for a second. “Jordan told Paco this place was protected. But I don’t know what that means.”
“I don’t know either. But at least we can ask Jordan. Or Paco. Every time I bring it up, she shushes me. Her latest kick is that one of Rasputin’s men will overhear.”
“As in the creepy Russian mystic, Rasputin?” she repeated.
“Don’t ask.”
“And drugging me?”
He shook his head. “If it’s any consolation, it’s not just you. Sauv Blanc with the Oysters Mignonette. Cabernet with the Beef Bourguignon. And sedatives for dessert.” He wrinkled his nose. “Even the staff knows not to eat any sweets. Ever.”
“So, let me get this straight…I met your mother?” Madison said slowly, processing the news. Then, her beautiful eyes widened. “And you introduced me as afriend?”
Oh, fuck.
Alex glanced at Madison, her brows knitting hard withwhat the fuckety fuckwritten all over every beautiful inch of her face.
“I wasn’t sure how stable she was. You and Peanut and Cashew need protecting.” He placed a protective hand on her belly. “Jordan can handle herself.”
Both her hands smoothed over his. “Bubble and Squeak are strong as the dickens, and I can handle myself.” With a stern pout, she poked him in the chest. She had no idea how close she was from being fucked up against the wall. “Alex Drake, I get that there’s a lot here to unpack. But when it comes to your family, I am not your friend.”
He wrapped a hand around hers, kissing that very angry fingertip. “In this outfit, you’re my paramour? Or is the term courtesan preferred?”
Playfully, she slapped his chest. “I think you meant queen.” She narrowed her eyes. “Not friend.”
“Have I mentioned how you’re gorgeous when you’re furious?”
She tried hiding her smile. “I’m serious.”
He kissed her neck. “So am I.”
“Don’t try seducing your way out of this, Alex. It won’t work.”
“Let me make it up to you.” His lips feathered hers, his voice, a low growl. The scent of roses and vanilla tickled his nose. He breathed her in. His dick hardened to stone. “I need to make it up to you.”
Her body melted into his. “I swear, Alex Drake, you’re the devil.”
“Yes, I am. Where hell is my playground, and sins keep me warm. Let me lure you, angel.” He slid a hand down her corset, and to the skirt.
“Won’t your mom be missing us?”
In one swoop, he had her bent over the counter, the skirt over her waist. “Jordan is distracting her.” He drifted a finger along the curve of her ass. “No underwear.” He tsked.
“I couldn’t find any.”
He was pretty sure she knew that he’d hidden every last pair of them. “Does Lady Madison need my undivided attention?”
