RUPERT HUNKERED down over his plate, and ignored the burning sensation of the French fries against his tongue. The low ceiling of the Turf intensified his foul mood. From a freshly washed table nearby, the scent of grilled meat blended with the smell of citrus cleaner.

Choosing the most popular pub in Oxford for their second date had been a ma.s.sive mistake. And why had Madison's friends turned up at almost the same time he'd arrived with her? Then, for some bizarre reason, she'd invited Ginger Girl and Gla.s.ses Boy to join them for dinner.

The mismatched couple now sat opposite him, seeming as delighted with his company as he was with theirs. But Rupert was ready to make an effort. He wanted to be part of Madison's life. Those guys were her best friends.

The last bite of his burger savored and swallowed, he slouched against the wooden bench. His fingers were now clasped together on his lap. He stared at Madison, studied her profile, listened to her voice. He had no desire to be anywhere else.

She filled the silence with her bubbling laughter. Sparks danced in her eyes and warmed up the frigid atmosphere. Wednesday's upsetting burglary had been relegated to the memory shelf.

She was happy, therefore Rupert was too.

But as soon as she left the table for the bathroom the tension ratcheted up.

"Do you think you'll make the final cut for the Varsity Race this year?" Pippa asked, her eyes probing. Next to her, Ollie yawned.

"I hope so. I've worked very hard for it."

"Well, it must help that the coach is your dad's best mate, for sure." The Irish girl lifted her chin.

Rupert opened his mouth but managed to stop himself from telling Madison's friend to b.u.g.g.e.r off. Instead, he took a deep breath. Faking interest, he asked, "So, you like rowing?"

Pippa leaned in over the table, c.o.c.king her head up, and ignored his question. "You're playing with Madison's feelings. She's a good person, and you're going to hurt her."

Thanks for your vote of confidence.

The girl had to be jealous because he had slept with her, centuries ago. And dumped her the next day. Another one of his grand gestures. What a p.r.i.c.k I was...

He tapped his foot on the wooden floor and refused to lose his temper. Instead, he kept his hands busy by nursing a soft drink between his palms. He tucked his head deep between his shoulders and ignored Pippa for the time he needed to cool his temper.

To his relief, Madison returned, sat back and launched the conversation on the brand new topic of the bookstore on High Street. Rupert's mind escaped, while his eyes fixed on the salt and sugar granules spread across the table.

The respite was shortlived.

Making a grand entrance, Harriet stepped into the Turf, looking more like a diva than she usually did. Claus, Rupert's fiercest compet.i.tion on the team, followed in her wake.

Next to Rupert, Madison tensed up. He laid his hand around her shoulders to make sure everyone in the pub knew she was his.

Harriet, and that disgusting fur coat of hers, charged straight toward their table. It wasn't going to be pretty. Rupert braced himself for a slap of b.i.t.c.hiness. Pippa had now become the least of his problems.

"You haven't lost any time." She gazed around the room and added, "Has your father already cut you off? You used to take me to more glamorous places."

"Good evening, Harriet." Nodding toward the Dane who hung a bit to the side, Rupert continued, his hand now intertwined with Madison's, "Claus. I'm glad to see the two of you enjoy each other's company."

"I'm surprised you don't mind Rupert's shabby past. But hey, a girl like you can't be too picky." His ex wasn't up for sweet talk. She was up for a fight, and Madison was her target.

Rupert launched himself from the bench. "Shut up, you b.i.t.c.h."

Harriet retreated behind Claus, or maybe he propelled himself in front of her.

"Claus, take Harriet out of here before I forget she's a girl."

"We're staying. Have fun with that s.l.u.t of yours somewhere else instead," Claus smirked, his breath charged with beer.

Raging anger exploded inside Rupert. His fist curled, swung, and hit Claus' sorry face. Once, Twice. The Dane's face jerked backwards each time and blood splattered out of his nose. But that wasn't enough for Rupert. He grabbed Claus's shoulders, pulled him forward, and threw his knee under the guy's chin. Claus collapsed.

"Stop." Ollie positioned himself in front of Rupert. It was a brave move. Madison's friend weighed less than a quarter of their two combined bodies. Ollie ordered Rupert, "It's time for you to go. We'll try and cover your sorry a.r.s.e."

Madison had already grabbed their jackets. With a strong clasp on his hand, she led him outside.

RUPERT MARCHED ahead of her, but Madison caught up with him, glanced at his closed features, then looked away. His flared nostrils told her he wasn't in the mood for smalltalk.

"I need some fresh air. Let's go to the Cherwell." It was more an order than a suggestion.

Madison nodded and shoved her hands in the pockets of her duffel coat.

They pa.s.sed the town gate, and, at the corner of the botanic garden, the well-manicured sports ground of Christ Church Meadow appeared across the Cherwell. The crescent moon bathed the scene in a silvery glitter.

"Oxford's very own bayou," Rupert joked, pointing at the Cherwell's channeled path. "There's a bench further down."

The vein on the side of his forehead had stopped its pulsing, an encouraging sign. Madison cleared her throat. "Getting into fights isn't the best idea. But, for what it's worth, thank you for knocking him down. It was very chivalrous of you."

He froze and halted in front of her. The gap between their heights forced her to tilt her head at an awkward angle.

He laughed, but his laughter had an edge. "Pippa doesn't think I'm serious about you. Apparently, I'm not good enough for you, and you're going to get hurt."

Madison took a few steps past him. She didn't comment on his outburst, but instead chewed on a fingernail. The traffic on the High Street had become a distant murmur.

She swiveled back to face him. "Are you going to hurt me? Are you serious about me?"

Rupert shook his head. "I thought you knew." His voice broke up. "I'd do anything for you. I know it sounds crazy because we haven't been together for long, but you matter to me ..." he fumbled for words, "so much. I've never felt like this about anybody else."

Madison wanted to bridge the distance between herself and Rupert and make physical contact with him. Her fingers tingled to caress his upper lip and the faint stubble on his jaw, her hands wanted to slide through his hair. Her knees were too weak to carry her forward. She moistened her lips.

"I've never felt like this before either." Her shallow breathing threatened to m.u.f.fle her sentence. "I don't care what they say."

All her life, she had worried about what people might think, about them gossiping, criticizing her family, her. She didn't give a d.a.m.n anymore.

One step at a time, Rupert moved toward her. His palms cradled her face, and his mouth came closer to hers, but then he stopped. Instead of her mouth, he kissed her forehead, an innocent, gentle kiss.

Frustration made Madison dizzy and her head spinning. She wanted to pull him closer. Shyness paralyzed her limbs.

Rupert took her hand, intertwined his fingers with hers. They started strolling along the river's thin ribbon path and reached the bench. Despite the moonlight, Madison couldn't read the dedication plaque on it.

She sat, and the stiff boards of the bench dug at her back. She didn't care. However, a grimace on Rupert's face told her he did.

"Does it hurt?" she asked him.

"It's my legs."

"You're training too hard."

"There's one month left before the race. The compet.i.tion is stiff, including that a.s.shole Claus." Madison offered Rupert a nod of understanding, but he glanced down at his fingertips. "I'm not sure I'm going to make it. My father will kill me if I don't."

"What matters is that you do it for yourself, not for your father."

"I love it. I love the compet.i.tion. I love the team spirit, but I'll never be as good as he was." Rupert's shoulders hunched.

"It's time for you to get over that. Your father has become your favorite excuse for never being happy."

Even as she gave voice to her thoughts, Madison regretted the harshness of her words. She wasn't in a position to pa.s.s judgment. Her own life was a total mess.

Rupert straightened, and his hesitant smile turned cheeky. "I can't bulls.h.i.t you. n.o.body, not even Monty, has talked to me the way you do." His voice had become so soft it sounded like a caress.

Animals-a squirrel?-darted through the dead leaves on the ground. The snow had melted from a couple of nights before. Water splashed, betraying the Cherwell's nightlife. Madison shivered and pulled her coat tighter around herself.

He took hold of her cold hands and brought them to his lips. The kiss warmed her fingers. Heat traveled down her arms to her chest and her belly, where a flutter tickled her inside. He leaned closer, and her heart missed one beat, two beats, then booted again in a rush.

The world around her vanished at once. She heard no sound, detected no movement to distract her from the feast of her senses. His mouth opened hers. Their tongues tangled. In that touch, her s.e.xual frustration, pent up over lonely nights dreaming about Rupert, over a lifetime of waiting for him, lashed out.

While his lips teased her lower lip, he slid his hand underneath her coat and stroked her waist, moving down to her hip, her thigh, then up again along her ribcage. His fingers cupped one breast, arousing her nipples so that they pointed through the material of her shirt. They begged for a further touch.

Madison moaned. She withdrew, memories of Tarquin invading the present, breaking the spell. The last time a man had touched her there, he had meant to rape her.

In a rasp, Rupert said, "I'm sorry, Maddie. I'll wait as long as you want."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do, how I'm supposed to act." She refrained from chewing on her fingernails again. She was afraid because she was starting late, she didn't know how it was done, and she didn't want to disappoint him. To make love with Rupert was so ultimate. "I've never dated anybody before. I mean, not really ... When we got together before Christmas, I behaved really out of character. Now that we officially date, I start thinking too much and feeling self-conscious all over again."

"I don't want to date you." A knot tightened in her throat in apprehension. "I want more with you."

"I'm not sure what that means." She braced herself for an indecent proposal.

Rupert thought hard, then he answered, "To spend as much time as possible together, watching movies, going for walks, traveling. Before, it has always come down to one single thing for me with girls."

Madison had a pretty clear idea of what the "thing" was. "s.e.x."

He nodded.

"But you're attracted to me? I mean, like you were with the other girls." She mumbled, knitting her fingers together, and avoided looking at Rupert. She had betrayed what she wanted the answer to be.

He burst into laughter. "Let's put it that way. Since the first time I've seen you, that time at the ball, my boxer shorts have felt far too tight. So don't worry about that side of things."

She giggled, then looking at him in all seriousness. "Give me some time... and sorry for the boxer shorts."

"I'm getting the next size... and I'll give you as much time as you need." He dropped a light kiss on her cheek and asked, "Shall we?"

Disappointed, she responded, "Shall we what?"

"Go and watch a movie." He checked his watch. "We should be able to make the ten o'clock show. Hopefully n.o.body we know will have the same idea."

Madison stood and extended her arm toward him. "Okay, but I choose the movie. There's this rom-com I really want to watch."

He grimaced, but he took her hand. "I've heard relationships are built on compromise."

Chapter 37.

MADISON ENTWINED her hand in his, while his other hand clenched his car keys inside his jeans pocket.

It was just his luck that the policeman who had led the investigation into the car crash four years ago was now a chief inspector in Oxford. If anything, it was a sign that the time had come. Payback time.

"It's the only way for you to be happy," Madison had repeated during the drive that morning to the police station. Maybe. Opening his mouth could also be a sure way to end up in jail. And in jail there would be no Madison.

She stood by his side. To remind him she was there for him? To block his escape? He winked at her and widened his stance, faking a confidence he didn't have. He had to do it. He had no future, they had no future if he couldn't man up and face his responsibilities.

To bury any idea of flight he tried to pay attention to the world around him: the bulletin boards hanging on the gray walls, the fake plant and grimy plate-gla.s.s windows overlooking the reception area. The smell of leftover breakfast meshed with those of printer ink. Disturbing. Rupert chewed on his mint gum with more energy.

"Mr. Vance, you asked to see me."

Rupert looked down at the short, bald man standing in front of him. His mouth went dry.

The man attempted to fill the awkward silence. "I'm Chief Inspector Crawley," he said in a p.r.o.nounced c.o.c.kney accent. He extended his hand and Rupert shook it. Madison introduced herself. The policeman gestured toward chairs at his desk, and they sat opposite Crawley.

Rupert's muscles tensed, and he laid his hands flat on his lap to relax. After swallowing hard, he started, "Thank you for taking the time to see me. You probably don't remember me, but-"

"I do remember you, Mr. Vance." Inspector Crawley's blank expression contradicted the edge in his voice. "Although, thanks to your father's pressure, I never had the chance to talk to you directly. A car crash, night time, heavy rain, four years ago. You were badly injured and stayed in hospital for several months. Your mother ..." His voice had softened.

"She died that night." If Rupert wanted the truth, he had to tell the truth. His mum died before the medics arrived at the scene, while her son lay unconscious next to her.

"Why are you here?" Crawley asked, his brows drawn together to form a single line.

"I want to know the truth." He cast his eyes downward, searching for the strength inside him. Madison grasped his hand again. "Did I kill my mum?"

The inspector's cheeks reddened, and he threw his hands upward. "Why are you coming up with this now? I tried to talk to you at the hospital. I wanted to hear your version of the accident." He folded his arms across his chest. "The Earl of Huxbury came down on me like a ton of bricks."

"Was my father trying to cover something up? Did he stop you going after me?"

The man made a half-twisting smile and started to explain. "If I thought you were guilty of something, I would have gone after you. And your dad and his stuck-up friends from Eton, or whatever, could have gone to h.e.l.l."