First Rapture (The Rapture Series) Read online

  Remaining lodged inside her, Luc spread tiny kisses over her face, his tenderness bringing tears of joy to her eyes.

  She’d fantasized about this moment since she’d first caught sight of Luc walking down the halls of the local high school.

  She’d been a lowly freshman and he’d been ‘Mr. Popular.’ Even worse, he was the son of Vigo Angeli, owner of two high-end casinos. It was rumored he was worth millions, while Maddy was the daughter of a barmaid who rarely remembered she had a child who shared her cheap trailer on the edge of town.

  It’d seemed an impossible dream. But now…

  “I love you, Luc,” she murmured, her heart overflowing with happiness.

  Instantly he stiffened, his breath hissing between his clenched teeth, as if she’d struck him instead of confessing her love. Then, before she knew what was happening, he was pulling out of her and shoving himself off the bed, his expression hard as he reached to grab his jeans off the floor.

  “Don’t make this into something it’s not, Maddy,” he warned, his voice painfully harsh.

  Suddenly chilled to the bone, Maddy reached for the sheet, covering her naked body. “Luc, what’s wrong?”

  “Everything.” He dressed with an efficient swiftness. “This should never have happened.”

  Shivering with a sense of baffled betrayal, she watched as Luc moved toward the door. “You’re leaving?”

  He paused, turning to regard her with an expression that was impossible to read. “Do yourself a favor, Maddy. Save your love for some man who actually deserves it.”

  ***

  The sound of her alarm thankfully jerked Madison out of the nightmare.

  Shit.

  Throwing back the covers, she climbed out of bed and headed into the attached bathroom.

  There was no mystery why she’d been plagued by that particular dream.

  The day after her disastrous eighteenth birthday she’d left Vegas and traveled to New York to follow her dream of becoming a model. For once in her life, good luck had smiled on her, landing her a spot as the spokeswoman for a new brand of tequila. Her career had taken off with record speed, and thanks to the grinding poverty of her childhood, she’d had enough sense to demand a part of her salary be paid in company stocks. By the time she’d reached the age of twenty-four she’d made a small fortune, which she’d used to open her own modeling agency.

  Now she was not only rich, but she owned a thriving business that gave her a power she’d never imagined possible when she was a young girl just trying to survive.

  And for the first time in eight years she’d returned to Vegas.

  Yeah, everything was great. Except that her dreams of love had been ruined by the Dark Angel.

  Taking a swift shower, Madison pulled on a casual pair of white shorts and a yellow, stretchy top. She gathered her dark, shoulder-length hair into a high ponytail, pausing long enough to grimace at her reflection.

  Without makeup she looked younger than her twenty-six years, but it was the shadows beneath her wide hazel eyes and the paleness of her creamy skin that made her wrinkle her nose in disgust.

  Soon, she silently promised herself.

  Soon she would be done with the nightmares of her past.

  And Luc Angeli would be nothing but a distant memory.

  Leaving the guest bedroom, Madison headed into the kitchen of the luxury condo just off the Strip.

  The home belonged to her best friend during high school, Kristen Roth. The two had been inseparable despite the fact that Kristen had a very different background than Madison. And even after she’d left Vegas they’d remained in contact, meeting for a “girls’ weekend” at least twice a year in various exotic locations.

  When she’d decided it was time to return to Vegas, Madison had known she couldn’t stay anywhere but the condo without hurting Kristen’s feelings.

  An unfortunate necessity, she belatedly realized as she strolled into the kitchen to discover her friend already dressed in a gray power suit with her honey-blonde hair pulled into a smooth knot at her nape. Instantly, Kristen’s indigo blue gaze latched onto Madison’s pale face and the obvious signs of sleepless nights.

  Kristen possessed a laser-sharp mind that had landed her a position at the top law firm in Nevada. Nothing could get past her perceptive gaze.

  “What are you doing up at this hour?” she demanded, instantly moving to pour Madison a large mug of coffee.

  Taking a seat at the breakfast bar, Madison readily reached for the coffee, smiling at the rich aroma. Kristen, of course, remembered that she took it strong and black. Her ruthless competence was sometimes frightening.

  “After years of traveling I’ve discovered the only way to deal with jet lag is to force myself to adjust to the local time as soon as I arrive,” she said, the words not entirely a lie.

  She’d arrived in Vegas late last night from a trip to Paris to recruit new models, and while she’d set her alarm, she’d intended to laze in bed for at least a few hours as she adjusted to the abrupt change in time.

  “Hmm.” Kristen studied her pale face. “Jet lag didn’t put dark circles under those eyes.”

  Madison blew out a sigh. “I’ve looked in the mirror, thank you very much. I don’t need you to point out I look like a zombie.”

  Kristen shook her head, her classic beauty shown to advantage surrounded by the white and silver condo, with its glass walls that revealed a stunning view of the city.

  It was like her. Sleek. Modern. Efficient.

  “Don’t be an idiot,” Kristen chided. “You always look spectacular. If you weren’t my best friend, I’d be morally obligated to hate you. But you’ve obviously had more than one sleepless night. Tell me what’s going on.”

  Madison shrugged. She hadn’t revealed the truth of her return to Vegas to anyone. Not even her best friend.

  “Bad dreams.”

  Kristen arched a honey brow. “Does this bad dream happen to go by the name Luc Angeli?”

  “Luc?” Madison blinked in genuine shock. How the hell had she guessed? “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

  Kristen waved aside her ridiculous pretense of ignorance. “Don’t be coy. No woman forgets her first.”

  “Really?” Madison took a sip of her coffee, hoping the caffeine would snap her sluggish mind into gear. “So you spend your nights dreaming about Jack Roberts?”

  “Oh hell no.” Kristen shuddered in horror. “But my first was a quickie in the boys’ locker room…with an emphasis on the quickie,” she said in wry tones. “Yours, on the other hand, was an epic event.”

  Madison stiffened, wishing to god she’d never called Kristen after Luc had walked out on her. At the time she’d needed someone to sympathize with her brutal humiliation. Now she hated the knowledge that she’d shared her pathetic heartbreak over a man who wasn’t worth a single tear.

  “Hardly epic.”

  “Oh, come on, Maddy—”

  “It’s Madison,” she firmly corrected.

  Maddy was a needy child searching for love in all the wrong places. Madison was a successful woman who molded the world to suit her needs.

  Or at least she did in all facets of her life…except one.

  And that one she intended to sort out in the next couple of days.

  “Fine. Madison,” Kristen obediently said. “You lusted after Luc for years. You had your walls plastered with pictures of him, you walked past his house a dozen times a day, and never missed a football game when he was playing. Hell, you had his name tattooed on your ass with a heart around it.”

  Madison thinned her lips. The tattoo was going, along with the memories.

  “And you had a poster of the Backstreet Boys pinned over your bed,” Madison countered, taking another gulp of her coffee, wincing as it scalded her tongue. “Big deal.”

  Kristen refused to be diverted. “But the Backstreet Boys didn’t take my virginity on my eighteenth birthday and then walk away with the comment that I should find someone
else to obsess over,” she pointed out. “And I didn’t leave Vegas swearing to return one day and make them pay for humiliating me.”

  With a weary groan, Madison planted her elbow on the bar, her chin resting on her palm. “You always did have an overactive imagination.”

  “I also have enough intelligence to know that this trip to Vegas isn’t just a whim.”

  “Why not? It’s been years since I’ve been home.”

  “Because there’s no reason to be here. Your mother died shortly after you left and you don’t have any other family,” Kristen said, as usual not bothering to tiptoe around the fact that Madison’s mother had taken off with one of her lovers who’d then crashed their car just outside Denver. “And if you wanted to see me, you know you only have to call and I’ll fly to join you wherever you are.”

  “It’s still where I was born,” Madison stubbornly tried to hold her ground against the merciless interrogation. “Maybe I was feeling nostalgic.”

  “Bullshit. You have a fabulous life in New York.”

  “True.”

  Kristen moved to place her hands flat on the bar, her expression warning she was ready to continue her cross-examination until Madison cracked.

  “Tell me the truth,” she commanded. “Why are you in Vegas?”

  Madison gave a resigned shake of her head. Hell, Kristen no doubt terrified poor juries into submission.

  “To put the past behind me,” she grudgingly admitted.

  “Luc?”

  “Yes.” Madison made a sound of frustration. “I know it’s stupid, but I can’t get him out of my head.”

  “Not really surprising. He’s always been drop-dead gorgeous,” Kristen admitted. “Of course, I’ve heard that he’s now supposedly reformed.”

  “Reformed?”

  “He stopped hopping from bed to bed.”

  Madison made a sound of disbelief. “Yeah, right. And I’m about to sprout wings and fly to the moon.”

  “Oh my god.” Kristen widened her eyes in shock at Madison’s bitter tone. “You’re still in love with him.”

  “No,” Madison snapped. “I was never in love with the bastard. But he’s like a virus that’s infected my life. I’m here to purge him once and for all.”

  ***

  The charity event being held at the upscale hotel was like any other charity event.

  A mediocre dinner that cost the social elite five hundred dollars a plate. An auction where they were expected to overbid on ridiculous items that no one wanted. Followed by a dance where bored husbands flirted with the scantily-dressed barmaids, and equally bored wives exchanged vicious gossip.

  Unfortunately, he couldn’t risk offending the hostess who’d arranged the event for a new science building at the local university, or endangered muskrats, or whatever happened to be the current flavor of the month. Not when her husband was an investor in Luc’s real estate company.

  Much to everyone’s astonishment, including his own, Luc had walked away from his father’s casino empire five years ago. He was done trying to earn the old man’s respect, choosing instead to try and halt the steady decline of the city he loved.

  Buying corporate buildings and new construction in foreclosure, he used his contacts spread throughout the world to flip the properties and bring in new businesses.

  In some ways he was still in the gambling business. Only this time it was with his money and the money of his investors.

  And he’d been highly successful.

  But he was in the delicate process of expanding his business, which meant rubbing elbows with the rich and powerful to keep his investors happy.

  It also meant he couldn’t just leave when his current stalker followed him onto the balcony overlooking the gaudy, spectacular beauty of Vegas.

  “Please, Luc,” the voluptuous redhead pleaded, her fake lashes framing her green eyes like stiff spikes, and her lips slick with red gloss. “Would you just listen to me?”

  Luc downed the last of his aged whiskey, wishing to hell he’d never given in to his rash impulse to ask out the persistent female.

  His only excuse was that he’d been bored and searching for something he couldn’t seem to find.

  Something he still couldn’t find.

  “I told you not to follow me here, Sherri,” he growled, shaking off her clinging grip.

  “What choice did I have?” she pouted. “You won’t accept my phone calls.”

  “Because we have nothing to say.” He sent her a warning glare that not even she could fail to comprehend. “Walk away or I’ll tell your father about that vial of white power you keep in your purse.”

  Her expression abruptly hardened, the green eyes glittering like chips of emeralds. “Bastard.”

  With a flounce, Sherri turned to head back into the crowded party, leaving behind the overwhelming stench of her expensive perfume.

  Luc grimaced, wishing to god he’d made up an excuse to avoid the evening. Especially when yet another female appeared in the open doorway, her slender form outlined by the lights of the ballroom.

  “The Dark Angel strikes again,” a low, delectably feminine voice purred. “Do you actually keep a tally of how many hearts you’ve broken over the years?”

  “Hardly. I…” His annoyed denial died away as the woman stepped onto the balcony, the moonlight gliding over her tall, willowy body. His breath caught in his throat. Her feminine shape was shown to advantage in the long black Dior gown that split up the sides to reveal slender, impossibly long legs, and a tight bodice that hugged the curve of her breasts. Her glossy dark hair was left free to tumble over her bare shoulders, the silken strands emphasizing the creamy perfection of her skin. A shockingly intense arousal blasted through him, followed by an equally shocking recognition. “Christ. Maddy?”

  A cool smile touched her lips. “It’s Madison.”

  Luc’s boredom was seared away by a thrilling sense of pleasure as he studied the female who’d invaded his dreams a hundred times over the years.

  “Madison,” he murmured, his gaze drinking in her astonishing beauty.

  She’d always been pretty. A fresh-faced innocent who’d tempted him more than he’d ever wanted to admit.

  Until that night…

  Luc hissed as he instantly became hard at the memory of sliding into the tight, exquisite heat of her body. Shit. Nothing had ever felt so good.

  “Long time, no see,” she said, moving to lean her hip against the iron balustrade, her movements hypnotically graceful.

  Luc smiled, a tingle of erotic anticipation racing through his body.

  “That’s not entirely true. I’ve seen you everywhere over the years,” he admitted, belatedly realizing why he’d been so obsessed with following her rocketing launch into fame. He’d never gotten her out of his system. Madison Philips was not only the one who gotten away, but she was the only one worth keeping. “Magazines, billboards, even TV. The face of Tivago Tequila.” He lifted his empty glass in a toast of genuine appreciation. This woman had every excuse to fail, and instead she’d risen above her past to become an international star. “It was a great campaign. And very clever of you to take your payment in stocks rather than cash.”

  “Modeling has a limited lifespan.” She shrugged aside his admiration, her pale features unreadable. Odd. Before she’d left Vegas her face had revealed her every emotion. He’d never forgotten the devotion that had glowed in her spectacular hazel eyes when she glanced in his direction. Or the sated pleasure on her face as she’d reached her climax in his arms. Now he had no idea what she was thinking. “It seemed prudent to have a nest egg for the future.”

  “Especially when you’re capable of taking that nest egg and turning it into a rapidly expanding business.”

  “I’m flattered.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I didn’t know you bothered to notice a woman unless she’s in your bed.”

  Luc grimaced. Madison had crossed his path at a difficult time in his life.

  When he was youn
g he’d done his best to earn his father’s love. He’d been a top athlete. He’d made straight A’s. And following in his father’s footsteps, he’d bedded every willing female who’d crossed his path.

  He’d just accepted the painful truth that there was nothing in the world he could do to ever win his father’s approval, let alone his love, when Madison had invited him to her party.

  He’d been determined to say no.

  She was an innocent and he was…truly screwed up.

  She deserved better.

  But none of his good intentions had the power to overcome his fierce need to taste her forbidden desire.

  “I suppose I deserve that,” he grimly admitted. “I’ve always regretted…”

  She arched a brow. “What?”

  “Hurting you.” He set his empty glass on a low table, moving so he was close enough to catch the delicate scent of vanilla that clung to her skin. His erection pressed painfully against his zipper, making him glad the black tuxedo jacket covered his arousal. Considering their current conversation, he didn’t think she would appreciate the knowledge that he was already plotting how quickly he could get her into his bed. “I know it’s hard to believe, but that was never my intention.”

  “Is that an apology?”

  His gaze slid over her stunningly beautiful face, lingering on the lush fullness of her mouth.

  His breath tangled in his throat. Christ, how many times had he imagined those lips wrapped around the tip of his cock?

  Too many to count.

  “I apologize for not being the man you needed me to be when I took your virginity, but truthfully, I can’t be sorry that I made love to you,” he admitted, his voice thick. “It’s a night that’s branded into my memory.”

  An indefinable emotion flared through the hazel eyes before she was lowering her thick lashes that were thankfully natural. In fact, he realized with stab of male satisfaction, everything about this woman was natural, from the rich color of her hair to the perfect swell of her small breasts.

  “There are no doubt a lot of nights branded in your memory,” she said in dry tones.