“If Mark had been . . . rusticated, his life would have been over. He had nothing else to fall back on. Oxford was his only way out of the life he’d grown up in. His father was in prison and Mark would have eventually ended up the same way.” How ironic, I thought. His fate had been waiting in the wings a long time. Now it was about to emerge from the shadows and claim him.
“So, you took the blame,” Madison said, filling in the blanks. “How did you convince them? It wasn’t your exam paper.”
“Said that I’d got it for Mark but he’d refused to accept it and had urged me to report the guy who sold it to me.”
“And Mark went along with it?”
“I guess his survival instinct took over.”
“What about yours?” she asked.
“My instinct was to protect him. I knew rustication would be the end of him.”
“But it was the end of your time at Oxford. Of your medical career.”
I hadn’t thought too much beyond making sure Mark didn’t get the blame. “I had—and have—a family who loves me. I had somewhere to go, people to rely on. I knew it wouldn’t be the end of me, and it wasn’t.”
“What did your parents say when you told them what you’d done.”
My mother had cried. My father hadn’t said a word, but I hated the look of disappointment I’d seen and still saw when he looked at me from time to time. “I didn’t tell them the truth.”
Madison sat at attention. “What? Are you serious?” She glanced at the house. “Never? We have to tell them now. Your family genes, the instinct to cure and protect that’s so strong in the Cove family, it drove you to take the fall for someone. They should have talked you out of it or at the least should have the opportunity to be proud that you were willing to risk everything to save someone else.”
“It was a long time ago, Madison.”
“I saw those certificates on the wall. And I saw your face when you looked at them. You have to tell your family what you did.”
I shook my head. I’d thought about it. “They adore Mark.”
“So?” she said, settling back into her seat again.
I had to smile at her protectiveness. At the way she wanted to solve this. She was so certain of my innocence. Of my goodness. Seeing myself through her eyes was like feeling the sun on my face and breathing in an ocean breeze.
“Madison, it was a long time ago and like I said, I have everything I could ever want.”
“I’m not sure that’s true.”
“Of course it is. I’m sitting here with a beautiful woman, having spent the day with the family I know loves me no matter what. What else could I possibly want?” Her. I could want her, more than I’d ever wanted any woman in my life.
“Nathan—”
“Seriously, Madison, if you want to talk about this again in a few days when you’ve had time to think about it and we’re not a bottle of wine in, by a fire, under the stars, then fine. But let’s not talk about it anymore for now.”
She glanced at the fire. “I just . . .” She sighed. “I just care.”
Fireworks exploded in my chest at her confession. “You remember the wedding?” I asked.
She pulled her eyebrows together. “I remember.”
“Remember how we agreed to pretend it never happened and to work together professionally?”
“I remember,” she repeated.
My gaze dipped to her mouth as her tongue darted out and wet her lips. After a beat, I looked into her deep brown eyes.
“I want a time-out from our deal,” I said, stroking my thumb along her wrist.
She took a breath and exhaled slowly, not discouraging my touch—she could easily have moved away. I could sit here and watch her in the firelight all night. I could sit and speculate about what was running through her head, what she was planning, what she was sad or happy about. But I wanted to do more than just watch her. I wanted to hear about it. I wanted to know what she was thinking. Not about Mark. That was clear. But about everything.
“A time-out?” She knew what I meant. She must have thought about it too. Hadn’t she?
“I want to kiss you,” I said. It wasn’t the right thing to do, the right thing to want, but that didn’t stop the need burning through me. I’d been pushing it down, fighting it off, but it kept coming back.
“This article—”
“Fuck the article,” I said. I cared about it, of course I did—it could impact my entire future, and hers. But right now, it felt like we’d escaped reality for a few hours and could exist outside consequences. “I want you.”
“Because I was talking to your brother?”