The Rebel's Return by Beverly Barton Read Free Book Online Page B

daughter. Although she wasn’t officially Helena’s godmother, she adored playing the role of “Aunt” Maddie to the hilt.
    No sooner had she and Joan started chatting when Hart whisked his wife away before the onslaught of the Carson clan. The big daddy of the family, Ford Carson, a robust, belly-over-his-belt type of man with a shock of white hair and bushy eyebrows, led his plump, blond wife Grace into the lobby. Following the patriarch came Flynt and Josie, Matt and Rose, then Fiona and Cara.
    Seven o’clock passed quickly, turning into seven-fifteen and finally seven-thirty. Preparing to leave her post in the lobby to go upstairs to the ballroom, Maddie noticed a sleek, black Porsche pull up under the canopied entrance to the club. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was about the man who stepped out of the carthat attracted her attention. From this distance she couldn’t make out his features clearly, but there was something about the way he carried himself, a self-confidence in his stance and walk that proclaimed to one and all that he was a man to be reckoned with. Maddie shook her head. Where had those thoughts come from? She wasn’t prone to fanciful musings about perfect strangers.
    Without taking another look at the intriguing man, Maddie hurried to her destination. Although the gala event didn’t start until eight, the ballroom and the open-air aisles that surrounded the main area were filled with guests and busy employees. The ballroom ceiling rose two floors, and a large balcony lay directly over the two-story entrance portico. The jazz band played cool, melancholy tunes.
    Maddie checked with Alicia, who assured her that she was ready, and with Harvey Small, the annoying club manager, who seemed to have his areas of expertise under control. Just as she began mingling, ever watchful for any sign of a problem, she caught a glimpse of three waitresses she now knew by name—the soft-spoken, friendly Daisy Parker, the tough-as-nails and highly efficient Ginger Walton and the irritatingly syrupy-sweet Erica Clawson. All three young ladies were attired in the white shirts and black slacks that were de rigueur for the waitstaff at the club.
    While she was inspecting the buffet table, Maddie heard a discernable rumble, a soft murmuring at firstthat quickly turned to a loud hum. What was happening? she wondered, and turned around just in time to see the attractive man from the black Porsche standing at the entrance to the ballroom. It seemed the debonair stranger in his tailor-made tux and emitting an aura of power and success had gained the attention of almost everyone in the ballroom. Maddie’s stomach flip-flopped; her nerves zinged. The guy was drop-dead gorgeous. Broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped, with short-cropped, dark blond hair and a rugged, movie-star handsome face.
    Who is he? Maddie asked herself and realized that everyone here tonight was wondering the same thing. Well, whoever he was, his presence seemed to be disrupting the gala before it even began. Doing her duty, she sailed across the room and made her way directly to the man who was now watching her approach. His hot gaze raked over her, searing her with its intensity. She suddenly felt as if he’d stripped her naked. Since vulnerability was not a word Maddie allowed in her vocabulary, she returned his gaze head-on. As she drew nearer, she realized he was grinning—at her. Was he someone she should know?
    â€œHello, I’m Maddie Delarue. Welcome to the Lone Star Country Club.” Her heart beat an erratic rat-a-tat-tat as she extended her hand. “I’m the club’s events manager and your hostess for tonight’s party.”
    The moment he touched her, a tingle of electricity zipped up her arm and radiated throughout her body.Oh, dear, this wouldn’t do. She’d never had this type of reaction to a man.
    â€œWell, hello, Maddie Delarue,” he said, his voice deep and husky,