The Last Man on Earth Read online

  “When were you talking to James?”

  “I frequently talk to James. Especially since you came to your senses and decided to marry the poor boy. He and I were discussing the guest list.”

  Sheer determination kept Madelyn from rolling her eyes. “You aren’t inviting more than two hundred people, are you?”

  “We’re trying not to, since that’s what you want. But honestly, it’s going to be difficult at any fewer than four hundred, what with the extended family on both sides, the friends, and of course important business connections. You know how sensitive people can be when they aren’t invited and believe they should have been.”

  “James and I agreed; we’re only inviting friends and family. The others will have to understand.”

  “I know, and that’s what he and I are doing. But ‘friends’ can be a very squishy term sometimes.”

  “Squishy?”

  Her mother’s lips twitched, seeing the humor. “As a mud pie.”

  They shared a smile.

  “So, ladies, have you reached a decision or shall I give you more time?” A tall, dark-haired sales assistant approached, her teeth white against her smooth café au lait skin.

  Laura raised an eyebrow at Madelyn. “I think you look stunning in this gown, dear, but it’s up to you. Do you want to keep looking?”

  Madelyn faced the mirror once more, pivoting slowly to examine her image from all angles. Her mother was right. The dress was magnificent and she did look lovely in it. Any other woman would be thrilled. So why the hesitation? Why the uncharacteristic indecisiveness?

  Nerves, she assured herself; it didn’t amount to anything more serious than that. Natural bridal jitters. This wedding was bound to be a huge success and one of the premier society events of the year. She simply wanted to make certain she appeared to her best advantage. Letting James down—or her mother, who’d joyfully taken on the brunt of the planning—was the last thing she wanted to do.

  They were all so happy for her. Her friends, her family, coworkers, even people she barely knew.

  Why, just yesterday the man who ran the newsstand a block from her apartment had waved her over and offered his congratulations. He’d seen her wedding announcement in the paper; wasn’t it wonderful?

  And her hairstylist, Gregor, why, he’d nearly broken into tears when she’d asked if he’d be able to arrange her hair for the ceremony.

  Doing what she could to make them all happy seemed like such a little thing.

  And she did like the dress. She really did.

  “I don’t need to keep looking,” Madelyn announced, smoothing a hand over the luxurious material. “This is the one.”

  The assistant gave a cordial nod, obviously pleased. “If you’ll follow me, then, we’ll begin the measurements.”

  • • •

  “Lord, it’s good to be home.”

  James handed Madelyn one of the after-dinner liqueurs he’d poured for the pair of them, then took a seat beside her on the comfortable hand-tooled Italian leather sofa that graced the living room of his penthouse apartment. “I like Tokyo, but I thought those negotiations were never going to end. One week was not supposed to turn into two. Even the seasons changed while I was gone.”

  “The weather has a habit of doing that in October. But I think there are still one or two leaves left on the trees for you to enjoy.”

  “You know fall’s my favorite time of the year,” he complained.

  Madelyn took a sip of crème de cassis, letting the tang of black currant linger on her tongue. “They have fall in Japan, don’t they?”

  “Hmm, but it lacks a certain piquancy when viewed from the inside of a conference room.” He lifted her hand and brushed a kiss across the top. “It wasn’t the same as being here with you. I missed you. You should have come with me.” He kept her hand in his, settling it on his knee.

  “You know I couldn’t. My supervisor’s having a hard enough time dealing with the idea that I’ll be away for a month at Christmas. A week in Japan would have given him a coronary.”

  “I trust you reminded him you’ll be on your honeymoon after Christmas?”

  “Yes, but Larry rarely lets little things like sentiment interfere with the job. If Stan, his boss, hadn’t given the okay to my leave request, we’d probably be honeymooning right here in this very penthouse.”

  James slid lower in his seat and drank a swallow of brandy. He rolled his head her way. “No pressure, Meg, but you’re welcome to leave that job anytime you like. I’ll set you up with something better. Or you can do nothing at all for a while if you’d rather.”

  “Become a society matron?”

  “No one would ever call you a matron. You’re far too young and gorgeous. A lady of the arts perhaps.”

  “You know that sort of lifestyle’s not for me. I like my job.”

  He lifted a single skeptical blond brow.

  “All right, I like my work,” she amended. “You know I’d never be happy just sitting around.”

  “I’m not suggesting you sit around. I’m only reminding you of your options. Once we’re married, you can do anything you like.”

  “A very kind and tempting offer.” She gave him a soft smile.

  “That’s what I’m here for, to be kind and tempting.” He dropped a kiss onto the center of her palm, then moved on to her wrist. “Especially the tempting part.”

  He set his glass aside. “Shall I tempt you some more?”

  He leaned over and pressed his lips to the smooth skin of her neck, skimming them across her jaw before fitting his mouth against her own. He tunneled his fingers into her hair and intensified the embrace, his breath quickening.

  Madelyn relaxed into his arms, enjoying the firm warmth of his lips moving over hers, the solid width of his shoulder muscles as they flexed beneath her hands.

  He was a skilled kisser. No sensible woman could complain about his technique.

  Still, a vital part of her remained detached, her heart beating at its regular, steady speed. Acknowledging the lack within herself, along with the stinging nip of guilt that followed, Madelyn closed her eyes and poured herself into the kiss.

  Almost immediately she regretted her action.

  Taking her response as an invitation to deepen their level of intimacy, James slanted his mouth over hers in an act of uncompromising demand. His hand slid downward to find and cover one of her breasts, his earlier playful mood evaporating completely. He moaned and slipped open a pair of blouse buttons.

  “James, we shouldn’t.” She turned her head away, reaching up to still his fingers. “Remember what we agreed?”

  He buried his face against the fragrant curve of her neck and went to work on the spot with his tongue, his other hand delving up under her skirt.

  She flattened her hand over his to stop him, shimmying sideways in an attempt to wedge some space between them. “James, no. You said we’d wait.”

  Reluctantly, he straightened and blinked at her through hooded eyes. “I don’t want to wait.” He reached for her again.

  Madelyn evaded him. “But you agreed, remember? I . . . I know it’s hard, but it’ll make our wedding night better.”

  “Let’s go to the bedroom and make tonight better.”

  “No, you promised.” Madelyn scooted to the far end of the couch and began fastening the buttons he’d undone. “You said you’d wait.”

  He collapsed back against the couch, leaning his head along the top. “I must have been insane when I made that promise. It’s not like we haven’t been together before,” he growled.

  “I know, and that’s why I want to wait. If we don’t, our wedding night will seem like any other night, nothing special. I want it to be special.”

  Actually what she wanted was time. The full six months of their engagement to heal and forget, to purge a certain some
one else from her mind for good. Given that time, she felt certain she could enter into her marriage with a whole heart and never look back, never regret. Once she became James’s wife, being intimate with him again would feel right, feel good. She wouldn’t have to pretend.

  James peered at her out of narrowed eyes. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

  “No, of course not,” she evaded. “I love you and I want to be with you. But we’re going to have the whole rest of our lives to make love. What’s another two months?”

  “An eternity, according to the lower half of my anatomy.” He groaned and closed his eyes in a silent plea for strength. “But you’re right. As stupid as it was, I did promise, and if it’s what you want, we’ll wait. Even if it kills me,” he added under his breath.

  “Thank you, James.” She smiled and leaned toward him.

  He held out a hand to ward her off. “No, don’t touch me, not for a while, probably the rest of this evening.”

  “All right.” She folded her hands primly into her lap.

  “So . . . um . . . did you finish addressing all the wedding invitations?” he asked, deliberately steering them onto an innocuous topic.

  “Yes, all three hundred of them, and another two hundred for the reception. My wrist is still sore, even though Mother and Ivy helped me out.”

  He began to relax. “Did the caterer call your mother back?”

  “He did, but he couldn’t find enough of that champagne you suggested. He thought we should substitute the ’fifty-seven.”

  “Not from that vineyard. Tell him to try . . .”

  • • •

  “You’re needed in Phoenix next week for the Giatta XJL shoot. I already told Stephanie to book your reservations.”

  Madelyn regarded Larry from her seat on the opposite side of his desk. “You know this isn’t a good time for me to travel. I have three other accounts finishing up next week. Accounts I need to be here to oversee.”

  “Peg can pick up the slack on those. This is more important. Giatta is filming on location. You’re needed there.”

  “I know Giatta’s filming on location. I’m the one who set it up. The director is very experienced, though. He’ll be fine on his own. If there are any problems, he has my direct office line and my cell number.”

  “Look, I can’t change it. The decision’s already been made. Giatta’s president, Giancarlo Leonelli, has decided to be at the shoot in person. He’s using it as an opportunity to combine business with pleasure, as the saying goes. Apparently, he fell in love with golf on his last trip to America. Since he’ll be visiting the U.S. again, he wants to golf and he wants to meet you. So you’re going to meet him.”

  “Have him come to New York. I’ll meet him here.”

  “He’s not stopping in New York. You’ll meet him there.”

  She wanted to tell him no, she couldn’t possibly, not with all the wedding preparations to complete—for both her own and Peg’s, whose ceremony was now less than three weeks away. But she knew better than to even whisper the word “wedding” in Larry’s presence. And any other argument she offered would be turned aside, a useless waste of breath.

  “Fine,” she said. “I’ll meet him there. If there isn’t anything more, I have a meeting in fifteen minutes.” She rose from her chair.

  “Oh, just one other item. Douglas will be traveling with you.”

  “What!” She couldn’t help the squeak in her voice. “Why?”

  “Because in the big picture, Giatta’s still his show. The company wants you both in attendance.”

  Madelyn bristled, genuine affront camouflaging the dread spreading like poison through her veins. “I’m perfectly capable of handling this account on my own. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “Then don’t think of him as one. Mostly he’ll be there to smooth your way with Leonelli. I guess the two of them get along like a house on fire. He asked expressly for Zack to tag along.”

  She stayed silent, too busy digesting the staggering news.

  “Is it going to be a problem? Working with Zack?” Larry tapped his pen on the desktop as he waited for her answer.

  With the exception of their one unplanned exchange that late summer evening so many weeks ago, she and Zack had barely crossed paths. In many ways, it was as if nothing had ever happened between them. And to her everlasting relief, as far as the office was concerned, nothing had. To others, she and Zack were the same odd mix of oil and water they’d always been.

  She wanted to tell Larry that she would rather be coated with honey and staked out in the blistering noonday sun on top of a desert anthill than accompany Zack Douglas on an out-of-town business trip. But work was work, and if she planned to continue on at F and S, she supposed she would have to learn to deal amicably with Zack.

  This trip would be a good test, she reasoned, a chance to prove to herself that she was finally and totally over him.

  She rarely thought of him these days, as her mind was filled to overflowing with wedding plans and James and the lovely future they would soon make together. It was time to put her past with Zack behind her, once and for all.

  “No,” she said. “It’s not a problem.”

  And in that instant, it was the truth.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Madelyn gave her order to the waitress, then leaned back against one of the comfortable white wicker chairs provided by the Scottsdale resort hotel where she was staying.

  She looked out beyond the carefully landscaped grounds to the manicured plains of thirsty green that made up the adjoining golf course complex. Past that to the desert, with its hard-packed earth and rough, rocky slopes; cacti dotted the raw hills like soldiers, armed and at the ready.

  Nearly iridescent, the sky was vivid with striations of peach and violet and magenta. She couldn’t remember ever having seen a more beautiful sunrise, a more breathtaking day.

  Yesterday morning, she’d left James behind in a cold, gray New York drizzle with a warm kiss and a promise to call. Her business trip was expected to last three days.

  Three days juggling work, desert heat, and Zack Douglas.

  She could handle it. A simple matter of keeping all the right balls in the air.

  The waitress returned and slid breakfast in front of her: orange juice, hot tea, fresh fruit, and a basket of assorted breads and pastries. Madelyn didn’t have time for anything more elaborate.

  In forty-five minutes or less, she needed to be in her rental car, on the road, headed north to the private ranch where the commercial shoot was scheduled to take place. Already, the crew was there setting up cameras, reviewing last-minute script changes, working with the professional stunt driver hired to climb behind the wheel of the new Giatta XJL model.

  She chose a blueberry muffin, poured tea into her cup, and was about to dig in when a shadow fell across the table.

  “Morning, Madelyn.” Without waiting for an invitation, Zack pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down. “Sleep well?”

  He looked fresh and vital, his dark hair neatly brushed and still damp from his morning shower. His teeth gleamed white against his tan complexion, his eyes blazing with an enigmatic green light.

  What does he want? she wondered.

  Madelyn kept her features even and ignored the increased thud of her pulse. “Very well.”

  “All the quiet kept me on edge,” he remarked. “Too used to the big city, I suppose.”

  He didn’t look the least bit sleepy to her.

  “Maybe some coffee will wake you up,” she suggested. “Why don’t you have some? At one of the other tables.” She swept a hand out to encompass the nearly empty dining room. It was too early yet for most of the hotel’s guests to have ventured from their beds. “There are plenty of tables available.”

  “I told the hostess not to bother seating me. I s
aid I’d share with you.”

  “Tell her you’ve changed your mind. I’d like to eat my breakfast.”

  “Go ahead. Eat.”

  “Alone,” she drawled meaningfully.

  He leaned back in his chair, making no effort to leave.

  She sighed. “What do you want, Zack?”

  “That coffee you mentioned for starters. Then some food. All I had time for last night was a quick burger on my way between airports. I skipped the cardboard they serve in flight. I’ve been starving since about three this morning.”

  “Poor baby,” she cooed with false sympathy, slicing her muffin in half with a sharp thrust of her butter knife.

  “Coffee?” The waitress appeared at Zack’s elbow, her mood far more chipper than the last time she’d stopped by Madelyn’s table.

  He held out his cup and flashed her a smile. “Yes, thanks.”

  She batted her lashes and darted her eyes up to his several times while she poured. “What can I get you?”

  You, perhaps? Madelyn thought on a sour note as she watched the exchange.

  “Eggs over easy with a side of grits and a bagel, if you can scare one up. With cream cheese. And hey, I’m pressed for time this morning. Would it be a lot of trouble to have the kitchen rush my order?”

  “Not at all. I’ll make sure they zip it right through.” She pitched him another giddy smile, then hurried off to the kitchen.

  “It’s shameless the way you use that.” Madelyn took a careful swallow of tea, returning her cup to its saucer with a sharp clink.

  She watched him pretend not to understand her meaning, his face the picture of innocence. “Use what?”

  She refused to be drawn by his bait and glanced down at the weave pattern on the tablecloth. “You wanted something, Zack? What is it?”

  • • •

  Zack gazed at her for a long moment, drinking in her beauty as she sat in the clear morning sunlight.

  You, he thought in answer to her question. I want you.