The Foreigner's Caress

MILLS & BOON

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Dedication

Over the past couple of years I have discovered

the depths of the loyalty romance readers have for the

writers they love. This novel is dedicated to romance

readers, who continuously demand the best from the

heroes, heroines and, ultimately, the writers.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Epilogue

Chapter 1

“Your invitation, please?”

Madison pulled the five-by-eight-inch, eggshell cardstock invite from the silver evening bag that hung on her shoulder and handed it to the usher. She looked at him over the top of the Armani shades that sat perched on the tip of her delicate nose. He read the name embossed in gold lettering, allowing his gaze to travel from her Christian Louboutin stiletto-clad French-manicured toes, up shapely tanned legs to a hemline that ended above her knees, continuing to round hips, a tiny waist and ample cleavage. He settled on her face, an approving smile on his lips as he handed her invitation back over to her.

“Thank you, Ms. Madison Daniels. Welcome to the ‘Friends to Elect the next United States President’ banquet. Enjoy yourself this evening.”

“I always do,” Madison said.

She glided through the door the young man held open, her steps poised, her grace evident of a childhood of grooming. The wine-colored carpeted foyer to the Grand Promenade Ballroom was peppered with tuxedos and cocktail dresses as men and women chatted and laughed gaily. The backless, minuscule Donna Karan dress she wore, stunning and shimmering silver, caused passing gazes to linger on the “redbone” beauty as she made her way through the room. She was used to the attention and was undeterred as she continued to the main room, a faint scent of Armani Code perfume accentuating the air immediately around her. She stopped just inside the door, looked around, a frown forming at the corners of her mouth.

“Are you disappointed because he’s here or because he’s not here?” a deep voice asked from beside her.

Madison turned slowly to the left, her gaze traveling upward until it landed on a chiseled face. Gleaming white teeth set inside supple lips curved in a smile greeted her. An even-toned nutmeg face with eyes like ebony marbles framed by curly eyelashes was fixed in her direction.

“Excuse me?” she quipped.

“You were looking around for someone and your expression was one of obvious disappointment,” he said.

“And naturally you assumed that I was looking for a man? Typical,” Madison scoffed.

“I suppose I could not fathom that a beautiful woman such as yourself could ever be unescorted to a well-appointed affair such as this. My luck has never been quite that good, although I did win a blue ribbon at a potato sack race once when I was seven years old.”

There was no doubting the charm of the debonair stranger. The unmistakably English accent was melodic to Madison’s ears, making his rash judgment of her mood sound less antagonistic. He was long-drink-of-water tall, at least six feet two inches, towering above her diminutive frame. The span of his broad shoulders was visible in the classic Ralph Lauren black tuxedo he wore, and for a moment she had a fantasy of him picking her up, tossing her over one shoulder and carrying her away into his jungle lair. She snapped out of it with a quick shake of the head. She was no Jane and he certainly was no chocolate Tarzan. What he was was extremely good-looking, smooth-talking and probably the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on. However, Madison was not a woman who was easily charmed by good looks and sweet words.

“Look, Mr.—”

“Elliott.”

“Mr. Elliott—”

“Stevenson. Stevenson Elliott—”

“Stop interrupting me, please. I find it rude and annoying,” Madison snapped. “Now, Mr. Elliott—”

“But all of my good friends just call me Steve,” he persisted.

Madison regarded the broad smile housed in a mouth that was sumptuous and boyish at the same time. She tried to force an expression of aggravation onto her face, but realized that she had already begun to enjoy the game of cat and mouse they were playing more than she should. There was an air about him that was both irresistible and engaging, yet she was not about to let such a pompous foreigner in on the fact that he’d moved her.

“Mr. Elliott, while I would love to stand around trading witty commentary with a presumptuous stranger, frankly, I’ve got better things to do with my time.”

Madison turned away from him in an attempt to keep her eyes from betraying the lie she’d just told him. At that moment there was nothing she’d rather do than remain in his presence, but she was a woman who was pursued, not the other way around. She walked away from Stevenson Elliott, certain that his eyes were trained on her receding figure as she felt them boring into her back. The natural twist of her huggable hips as she walked was slightly exaggerated for his benefit and his torment.

Stevenson laughed out loud, taken by the beauty with the unconventional hairstyle and prickly tongue. He watched her as she crossed the room with a self-assured spring in her step that was admirable. He started to go after her, but instinctively knew that it was probably not a good idea. This silver-clad goddess was hell on wheels, of that he was certain, and a distraction like her was the last thing he needed in his life. There were expectations on his shoulders that required clear thinking and undistracted diligence. Yet even as he reminded himself of his obligations, his smoldering eyes followed her around the room.

“There you guys are,” Madison said as she came upon the table where her parents were seated.

Dr. and Mrs. Joseph Daniels were sharing a table with Judge Kelly from the southern district of New York, his wife, Patricia, Senator Houssman from Poughkeepsie and his wife, Carla, and Georgetta Price, a world-renowned Broadway diva.

Joseph rose to greet his daughter, his face beaming with pride.

“You made it, pumpkin,” he said, kissing her cheek. Joseph Daniels’s eyes lit up at the sight of his youngest child. His warm-brown face gave way to a wide smile, tiny laugh lines appearing in the corners of his eyes. Anyone who knew him knew that he had a heart as good as gold and as soft as putty when it came to his two daughters. Despite the trials and tribulations that Madison had dragged them through over the years, and mountains of worries finally pushed aside, there was nothing that could diminish his love and adoration for her, his youngest daughter.

Elmira tilted her face upward slightly to receive her daughter’s peck on her cheek.

“Everyone, you remember my baby girl, Madison?” Joseph asked with pride.

“Joe, I don’t think you can call this beautiful young woman your baby girl anymore. She’s all grown up!” Senator Houssman said.

“She certainly is. Why, the last time we saw you, young lady, it was with a face full of braces and pretty little pigtails,” Patricia Houssman chimed. “You, my dear, are an absolute knockout.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Houssman. Senator.” Madison smiled.

Joseph pulled out the chair to his left for Madison, who slid into the seat with a radiant smile.

“I don’t care how old or beautiful a woman she becomes—she will always be my baby girl!” Joseph said proudly, squeezing Madison’s shoulders firmly before taking his seat again.

Chatting resumed at the table as the band played and the champagne flowed. Thus, the evening progressed. It was one of the first political affairs that Madison had attended where she actually was not bored out of her mind. Georgetta Price was a laugh a minute, regaling their table with stories of the many schizophrenic directors and unscrupulous starlets she’d come across in her career, which spanned more than three decades. Madison listened with half an ear, as her mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of the charismatic young man with the English tongue and charming wit. Her feminine senses had been stroked by his teasing, making it difficult to forget him. She surreptitiously scanned the room from time to time, hoping to catch a glimpse of him; however, like Cinderella at the ball, he seemed to have vanished into thin air.

As the evening wore on, Madison made every effort to push all thoughts of the handsome stranger from her mind, reminding herself that she did not need romantic entanglements in her life right now. She was doing well all by herself and the last thing she needed was for some guy to come along and make her lose her focus. Despite occasional pangs of loneliness that were normal for a young woman, she rather enjoyed the time and space of living alone in the city that never sleeps.

It had only been six short months since she’d moved off of her bourgeois parents’ luxurious Southern estate and out of their reach. Leaving the drama and scandal she had caused in North Carolina behind her, she had seized the opportunity for a fresh start in the Big Apple. New York City was a metropolis of big buildings and even bigger dreams, and unlike the glove in the infamous O. J. Simpson trial, it was a perfect fit. Gone was the flowing warm brown hair that had not been cut more than a quarter of an inch since she was five years old and in its place were short, funky new locks in hair that had been dyed honey-blond. This new hairstyle was becoming, giving her buttermilk complexion a fresh, quirky look.

Since she’d landed in New York, Madison had become devoted to living a healthy lifestyle by eating right and working out three times a week at the New York Sports Club. Her naturally sexy, curvaceous frame was in tip-top form physically, which also boosted her mental and emotional states. She had never felt more motivated and ready to take charge of her destiny. Of course, she had yet to figure out what that destiny was, leaving her reliant on the monthly allowance her father sent. Her Upper East Side apartment was small, yet chicly decorated, and by subsidizing what her father gave her with work at odd jobs—ranging from dog walker to yoga instructor—she was able to live a comfortable lifestyle.

Money matters didn’t concern her, however, because she realized that she was a work in progress who had come a long way from where she once was. She was contemplating her options and even considering going back to college on a part-time basis. Admittedly, she was enjoying the relative calm of a life that did not include nightly partying, alcoholic binges and the distraction of juggling relationships like a circus trickster. That was precisely why she’d sworn off sordid affairs with men…handsome, charming men.

“How’s everyone enjoying the party?”

Madison started at the sound of that baritone voice, instantly recognizable. She felt a sudden flush in her cheeks when his strong hand landed lightly on her shoulder. She suppressed her body’s urge to tremble under his unexpected touch.

“We’re enjoying it just fine, young man. Say, aren’t you Gregory Elliott’s son?” Senator Houssman asked.

“Yes, sir, I’m Stevenson Elliott. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Senator Houssman.”

“Your father and I did some business together years ago when I was a consultant in the natural resources industry. I lived in England for over three years. Very fine man, that Gregory Elliott. Is he here tonight, son? I’d love to say hello,” the senator remarked earnestly.

“Yes, sir. He and my mother are seated right over there, with Congressman Powers.”

“Oh, yes. Excuse me, folks,” the senator said, rising and shaking Steve’s hand before departing.

Steve walked around the table, shaking hands with the men at the table and delivering compliments to the ladies who were seated there.

“Stevenson, this is our daughter, Madison. Darling, say hello,” Elmira said, her voice a tad too cheery for Madison’s tastes.

“Mother, we met earlier in the evening,” Madison answered dryly, avoiding making eye contact with Steve.

She picked up the glass in front of her, taking a long sip of the cool, sparkling water to soothe the sudden dryness that had developed in her throat.

“Yes, we have. In fact, that’s precisely why I came over to your table. I was standing across the room wondering to myself if the lovely young lady would like to join me on the dance floor. I think we’d be a perfect match to show the more mature folks how to get this party started the right way,” Steve said.

Madison looked up at him finally, glancing from his extended hand to his face. A flash of benign irritation passed through her eyes as she stared at him without speaking. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip as she thought of a tactful way to get him to leave her alone, but when his gaze fell to her mouth and he smiled seductively, she realized how suggestively her action might have been perceived.

“What a lovely idea. Go on, Madison,” Elmira encouraged, her lips spread as wide as they could possibly go without splitting her face in half.

Madison gave a slight smile, quickly putting in check the old Madison, who would have snapped her mother’s head off right in front of a roomful of people for her transparent attempt at interfering in her life and matchmaking. She took Steve’s hand and rose from her chair, allowing him to lead her out into the middle of the dance floor. The band began to play “So Amazing” by the late Luther Vandross just as Steve slid his right arm around Madison’s body, drawing her to him closely as if they had danced together a thousand times before. Madison rested the palm of her left hand on his shoulder blade, while he closed her right hand in his. His long fingers wrapped around hers tightly. In her heels she was still three or four inches shorter than him, landing the top of her forehead against his chin. A perfect fit.

“So, Madison Daniels. Pretty name for a pretty woman,” he said.

Their faces were just inches apart. Madison could feel the warmth of his breath on her nose and it made her conscious of how close their bodies were to one another, but at the same time rendered her incapable of breaking the intimacy even if she wanted to. It felt too good to sever.

“Thank you,” she said, all too aware of the erratic beat of her heart.

“No, thank you…for sparing a few moments of your precious time to dance with me,” Steve said, his voice tinged with mocking amusement.

“So, let me guess. You’re some sort of funny guy, huh?” Madison inquired. “Or so you think.”

“No, not at all. Actually, I’m usually quite serious. Some people might say that I’m extremely intense. It must be something about the romantic lighting and the festive mood in this room that has me reacting like this. Or it could just be the company I’m keeping.”

The seductive lilt to his voice was making her feel warm and causing her to be all too aware of the sensations his body against hers was creating.

“So, Mr. Elliott, when you aren’t acting out of character, what do you do?” Madison asked, attempting to steer the conversation to an area that would not cause her temperature to continue to climb.

“Well, I’m a citizen of Great Britain and back home I work with my father.”

“And what does your father do?”

“He is Chairman and CEO of the Elliott Corporation. Our business is manufacturing. But I don’t want to bore you with shop talk when I’d much rather talk about you and how striking you are.”

“I see. Well, Mr. Elliott, you’re a long ways away from Great Britain, in case you didn’t notice. I’m not sure how things are done there, but here in America, we don’t fixate on a person’s exterior because we are astute enough to realize that what lies beyond that shell, the interior, is where the treasure actually rests.”

Steve stepped away from Madison, extending his arm and spinning her around. His eyes remained trained on hers as he pulled her into his arms again.

“I noticed that I’m not in England.” He smiled. “But thank you for your tip. I’ll definitely take it to heart.”

The undertone of his comment was not lost on Madison and once again, her pulse raced.

“My parents and I are here on a vacation of sorts. We had some business in California and my mother has a dear friend who is a native New Yorker, so she convinced my father to spend a few days in the city after our business concluded. My mother’s friend, Mrs. Andrews, the widow of Congressman Andrews, invited us as her guests to tonight’s affair. We’re scheduled to return home in a few days.”

“Oh,” Madison said and was immediately embarrassed by the sound of disappointment in her tone.

“Now it’s your turn, Ms. Daniels. Your dad is a doctor, yes?”

“Yes, he is. He’s a cosmetic surgeon. My mom is a professional housewife and busybody. We’re from Charlotte, North Carolina. Ever been south?”

“Yes, I’ve been to Florida a couple of times.”

“Let me guess…West Palm Beach, right? I’m not talking about the touristy south. Have you ever been to the South? General stores, wraparound porches and sugarcane fields?”

Steve grew silent for a moment, a cloud passing over his face. Madison studied him, poising her lips to ask what was wrong. Just as quickly as it landed, however, the cloud was gone and his smile returned.

“Aah, the South. No, can’t say that I have had the pleasure. Maybe someday you will volunteer to be my tour guide to your South when you don’t have anything better to do with your time.”

“Your insolence continues to astound me, Mr. Elliott,” Madison laughed.

“I’m just a believer in the power of positive thinking, Ms. Daniels,” he said.

“Really? Well, unfortunately for you, I live here in Manhattan now.”

“That’s okay. I haven’t seen much of New York, either, since I’ve been here, so maybe you could show me around your new home.”

Steve’s last words were more of a statement than a request. He smiled that infectious smile again, warding off any attack that Madison might be inclined to make because of his presumptuous declaration. Her lips trembled as she smiled back at him, their eyes locked. It was a charged moment in which no words were necessary or available from either of them. The pounding of their heartbeats was noise enough.

In an attempt to quiet the fluttering sensation in her stomach and the throbbing in her temples, Madison rested her head against his shoulder and they silently continued to move across the floor. Several other couples had followed their lead, taking to the dance floor to move to the sound of the band. Yet, Steve and Madison failed to notice anyone else around them as they moved against one another, each getting to know and appreciate the feel and rhythm of the other. It was as if a spell had been cast over them, and quite like Cinderella and the prince at the royal ball, they were frozen in an enchanted spell. Those precious magic minutes were the stuff dreams were made of, and although neither one of them had been looking, the discovery was welcome just the same.

Chapter 2

The abrupt flash of a photographer’s camera snatched Madison and Steve from their private thoughts, bringing them back to the crowded roomful of people, music and laughter. Before either could react, they found themselves flanked on either side by reporters and cameras.

“Madison Daniels, rumor has it that now that Felicia Worthington has withdrawn the divorce papers, you and Edward Worthington have taken it as a license to resume your relationship. Care to comment?”

Madison’s eyes were trained on the smiling, fire-enginered lipsticked mouth of the reporter who was thrusting a black microphone into her face, almost touching her nose with it.

“Wha-what?” she stuttered, unable to compose herself.

“Hey, what’s going on here? Get that thing out of her face.”

“So, Madison, does Edward Worthington know that you’ve taken up with Stevenson Elliott, son of the billionaire Gregory Elliott? Isn’t he a little young for your tastes?” the reporter persisted, her mouth twisted into a nasty sneer.

The light from the camera pointed at her by the cameraman was bright, illuminating her and the bewildered Steve. The scene quickly drew the attention of the entire room of well-appointed people.

“What are you talking about? I’m not in contact with Edward Worthington and I don’t know anything about him and his wife,” Madison stammered.

The reporter was poised to ask another question when, with the same swiftness as the woman and her crew had descended, security approached what had now turned into a melee of sorts. The band had stopped playing and every eye in the room was trained on the center of the dance floor. Steve roughly shoved the microphone away from Madison, causing the reporter to stumble backward, nearly losing her balance. The cameraman moved in, lowering his camera to his side, and Steve challenged him to make a move. The reporter stayed her guy with a hand on his arm, while Steve’s fist remained tightly balled at his side. He draped an arm protectively around the speechless Madison, and as security harshly removed the reporter and the two cameramen, Steve began moving her away from the action.

Joseph Daniels approached, yelling at either the security guards or the reporters or both; it was unclear. He followed the group out into the lobby area, his outrage at the press’ insinuation into his daughter’s privacy apparent. Steve kept his arm around Madison and was steering her in the opposite direction of security, the press and her father when his own parents intercepted them.

“Stevenson, it’s time for us to leave,” Gregory Elliott said sternly, approaching from behind them.

Steve whirled around. “Dad, I—”

“Now, Stevenson.”

Gregory Elliott was a couple of inches shorter than his son, his portly belly and balding head of graying hair indicative of his approach to middle age. Yet he had a power and a commanding nature that not many people would dare to defy.

“Dad, I’d like you to meet Madison Daniels,” Steve insisted, looking his father squarely in the face.

Reluctantly, Gregory pulled his gaze from his son, turning toward Madison for the first time. His eyes bored into her, taking her in from head to toe and back to head again.

“Ms. Daniels,” he said, by way of a greeting, his head nodding slightly.

“Mom, this is Madison,” Steve said, turning to his mother, who had just joined their circle.

“Young lady,” Janice Elliott said with her face set in a hard mask.

The ensuing chill in the air was noticeable, although the room itself was quite warm. Madison, who was slowly coming back to herself after the shock of the confrontation with the press, found her tongue again.