Rise Like The Sun

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

NICK

Nick's gaze lingers on Madison.

She looks utterly glorious in her classic red dress, a pure vision sitting across from him. The soft gold light casts against her features, making her diamond necklace gleam briefly, and limns her in such perfect, dewy gold that his mouth goes dry. When her mother clears her throat, Nick's head snaps up and Madison smirks to herself, a perfect little crooked tilt pressing against the corner of her mouth.

"Now... Nick," Mrs Sutton begins. "I hear from Bastien that you were having some trouble at first. Trying to get the steps all in order."

"Uh, yeah," Nick says heavily, reaching for the plate of bread, before offering it to both mother and daughter.

Madison makes to take the plate from him, but Mrs Sutton puts a hand on Madison's wrist. To his surprise, Madison shrinks back, and Mrs Sutton takes the plate, giving him an easy, elegant smile as though nothing happened. Nick holds his tongue, though he burns with curiosity.

"You must have worked very hard. Oh, and before I forget, Madison," Mrs Sutton adds, spearing a spiced vegetable elegantly, "I'm flying off again."

The smile on Madison's face falters very slightly.

Nick's gaze lingers on Madison, feeling something like a beast roar up within him protectively at the flicker of pain crossing her face. He looks away just as quickly, knowing that Madison doesn't like others to see her vulnerable, his gaze dropping to his own plate. The plate is steamed so clean that he can see his dark eyes staring back at him in the white. There is protective annoyance within those eyes.

"Flying?" Madison says, her voice quiet in that way she does, to make herself seem nonchalant. "Where to, Mother?"

"Morocco," Mrs Sutton says pleasantly. "I've some business there, tonight. Darling, do be sure to fax me the papers on the Moroccan shares."

There is the lightest sprinkle of disappointment against Madison's face and wanting to do anything that might get rid of it, before he can stop himself, Nick finds that he has reached across, under the table. His foot scrapes lightly against Madison's ankle and across the table, he watches as Madison stiffens, a smirk gracing the corners of his lips.

"Of course, Mother," Madison says, her voice turning slightly breathy.

She shoots him a glare, but Nick only arches a challenging eyebrow at her. Madison's glare changes smoothly, to the slightest whisper of a smug smirk, and he knows that she's ready to play his game. Her foot drags slowly, tantalisingly, against the ball of his ankle and Nick's mouth goes dry. He reaches for some water quickly.

"Of course," Mrs Sutton is saying, "there is no question of my missing the charity ball. How are your studies going, then? I hear the exams are finally here."

"Yes, Mrs Sutton. We've only got a handful left," Nick says, just as he rubs his foot against Madison's and watches her shiver deliciously. "I've heard the teachers talking about Madison too. They say she's coming along excellently."

There is a glorious impish look gracing the light of Madison's eyes and as she reaches to calmly drink some water, her foot rakes deliberately across his own. He's weakening, Nick can tell, but before he can retaliate, Madison slowly kicks off her heel and her bare foot lingers all the way up to his thigh, before she rests it there. Nick's trousers are uncomfortably tight, and he clears his throat, drawing Mrs Sutton's confused attention, shifting awkwardly in his seat.

Across the table, Madison looks as though butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.

"Honey, what are you doing?" Mrs Sutton says, her voice sharp, as Madison reaches for a bowl of glistening caviar. Madison is so startled that her foot drops from Nick's thigh and he stiffens. "I told you to stick to your diet."