Oxford Shadows by Marion Croslydon Read Free Book Online

gestured for her to join him at the bar. She took a step forward, but hesitated. Rupert didn’t like the guy. But Rupert couldn’t stand any guy coming within a yard of her, period. Correction, comma: except Ollie. But Sam had saved her butt big time two days before. She owed him a chat and another thank-you. Besides, in her heart and in her head, she knew Rupert had nothing to be jealous about. She was his.
    “Wanna taste some of that bourbon?” Sam pointed toward the bottles lined up next to the crowded rows of Scotch. “On the house.”
    Madison climbed onto the bar stool and supported herself with her elbow to screen the collection lining up on the other side of the galley. The brands were all familiar. God knew she had served enough of those when working—under-aged—at Le Perroquet, her mother’s honkytonk.
    “Southern Comfort will do just fine.” Her choice dripped with homesickness.
    “With this wet-cat face of yours, a double shot is what you need.”
    On her right, the girl with the big boobs released a bitter sigh before strutting away, her curvy bottom swaggering through the recently arrived cricket team.
    “Fraternizing with English girls, huh?”
    “They’re friendly enough.”
    Sam poured out the Southern Comfort and handed it to Madison. She knew girls would be friendly toward Sam, wherever they came from. His gaze escaped to the pretty blond who served behind the bar with him. Cassie. Madison had talked to the girl before. Cassie was from Kansas, very nice … and she was totally ignoring Sam.
    Throwing her head back, Madison knocked down half of the drink, shut her eyes, and let the soft burning heal … and comfort. Cleanse and repeat. When the therapy session was over, she reopened her eyes and met Sam’s dark brown ones.
    “Better?”
    “Much, much better.” A giggle betrayed her alcohol-induced good mood.
    “You didn’t tell your boyfriend about what happened the other night.”
    His statement cancelled the benefits of the drink, and the last gulp of bourbon got stuck mid-throat. She swallowed and coughed. “I don’t want to worry him for nothing. No damage done.”
    Sam refilled her glass. “You’re pretty relaxed about the whole thing. Do you often get attacked in dark alleys?” The weight of his gaze on her contrasted with the teasing tone in his voice.
    “You have no idea, my friend.” She exhaled, and her whole body deflated over the bar.
    White-trash rapist in the Louisiana swamp, cloaked figure in the Oxford night, her best friend in a goddamned crypt … The thugs after the dinner at the Randolph would make the list only one item longer.
    A sexy laugh burst from behind her, grabbing her heart and twisting it. Madison swiveled on the bar stool; hope awakening the part of her heart she thought had died with Pippa. The rush of excitement crashed when she saw the girl who had laughed. No flaming red hair, no curvaceous hips and boobs. No Philippa Connelly. Pippa was very much dead. With a downcast gaze, Madison turned back to face the bar. A knot of guilt tightened in the pit of her stomach.
    With a gentle push from the tips of his fingers, Sam delivered her another remedy. Madison grabbed the glass and killed it in one straight swallow.
    “Good heavenly days.” She shook her head to diffuse the rush of alcohol that was shooting through her veins.
    “Go easy on it, Pumpkin.”
    The bittersweet taste of nostalgia replaced the sour tang of the liquor.
    “Let’s notch it up in a way that won’t have you puking all night.” Sam headed toward the stereo system, perused a pile of CDs, picked one, and slid it through the panel. Dolly Parton’s voice exploded throughout the pub, her childlike and effervescent tone causing the crowd to pause momentarily.
    Sam lowered the volume and returned to Madison. “‘Tennessee Mountain Home.’ Close enough to Louisiana, hey?”
    His gaze warmed Madison up, and she let a grateful smile break through her gloomy expression. “Thank