Give And Take: Taken By Storm Part 24

"Okay, okay!" Maddie got up and followed MJ to the elevators. "Are you sure Rachael's okay with this and you didn't twist her arm?"

He pushed the b.u.t.ton for the lobby. "Are you kidding? She jumped at the chance to have you stay and bring your dad."

The doors closed and he pulled her against him. She could tell he had something to tell her that he couldn't hold in any longer. "What?" she asked.

"You know Archibald's family home, the Weston Sugar Plantation?"

She prodded his dimples with her fingers and smiled as he grinned. "Yes."

"Mads, I own it. Merrick bought it for me as my first project."

Maddie couldn't believe what he was telling her. "What?"

"Yeah. It's in bad shape, but he's having Joan help me renovate it, and he's going to teach me everything he knows about running the business."

She squeezed him as hard as she could. "I'm so happy for you. So proud." She looked into his eyes, and blinked back tears. "You have your dad, MJ. You're out from under Enzo's thumb."

He kissed her. "So are you. You'll be safe at Turtle Tear."

Maddie's thoughts went to Nadia. She'd been on the island and n.o.body knew. Anyone else could do the same. But, MJ had given her and her father a place to stay with friends. They wouldn't be alone. "It's going to work out, isn't it?" she asked.

"It already has." He picked her up and pressed his lips against hers, spinning her in a circle. The elevator jolted under them, coming to a stop.

Maddie laughed.

"What?" MJ asked.

"I like it when the ground moves under my feet when you're kissing me."

He spun her around again. "Baby, I promise to always make your world shake."

Epilogue.

I can't believe we're here," Rachael said, holding a map of the 150,000 acres that MJ now owned along with the plantation house and several outbuildings.

Maddie pulled at the strap of the hardhat on her head. It was tight and uncomfortable, but MJ threatened to punish her if she took it off. She wasn't sure what he had in mind, but she was tempted to toss the hardhat to the floor to find out.

He stood with Merrick and Joan at a drafting table, pouring over blueprints. He hadn't told her what he was going to do with the property, but she knew he was making it into a business like Rachael and Merrick had done with Turtle Tear. MJ told her it was a surprise and he wasn't ready to tell her just yet.

It was Maddie's second visit to the plantation, but her father and Rachael's first. MJ and Merrick had lugged a big steamer trunk down out of the attic. Along with some dead bugs, there were photographs, diaries, a few ornate silver pieces, and enough history on Ingrid and Archibald's family to keep Rachael entranced for days.

"Lookie here," Maddie's dad said, shuffling over to them with an old newspaper. "This is from 1974. Read this article." He tapped the side panel of the paper, handing it over to Maddie.

Ghost of Woman Communicates From Beyond.

Outside St. Petersburg sits an old antebellum plantation house that used to be home to the Weston family. The Weston Sugar Plantation operated from the 1830s until 1865 when the mill burned down near the end of the Civil War.

Attempts by the current owners to renovate the plantation house have been thwarted at every turn by a ghost they call Ingrid.

Legend has it the woman is Ingrid (Burkhart) Weston, wife of Archibald Weston, son of the original owners of the plantation. The Weston's and the Burkhart's were Florida's Civil War version of the Montague's and Capulet's, making Ingrid and Archibald true star-crossed lovers.

Archibald built a home for his beloved on Turtle Tear Island in the Everglades where they lived and raised their own family. Although Ingrid died while staying at the Weston Plantation, her body is said to be buried on Turtle Tear Island.

"She's not with her body," the current plantation owners say of Ingrid's spirit. "She's here, but she wants to go back."

How do they know Ingrid's wishes? She's told them.

"Take me back to Turtle Tear was written in the condensation on the attic window after a storm," they say. "She's written it in the dust on the attic floor too, and every time we bring a crew in to remodel the attic she shows herself, scatters their tools, barricades the stairs and scares them away."

"I feel bad," the current owner says of Ingrid's predicament. "I'd take her to Turtle Tear if I knew how."

For now, she's stuck at the Weston Plantation, desperate to get back to the island home her Romeo built her.

"We have to help her," Rachael said, taking the newspaper out of Maddie's hand. "We have to take her back."

"How? I mean, it's only a legend." Maddie didn't want to discourage Rachael. She knew how tightly Rachael's heart was wrapped up in Turtle Tear's history.

"I don't know," Rachael said. "But the answer is here somewhere." She lifted both hands, palms to the air. "Ingrid's here somewhere. Maybe she can tell us."

"Maybe so," Maddie's dad said, limping away. She couldn't tell if he was serious, or if he thought Rachael was nuts.

Maddie wasn't so sure herself, even if she was a self-proclaimed ghost hunter show addict. MJ had told her the ghost in the west wing of the Rocha Estate had been Nadia. Somehow, she thought she'd known all along that the girl was real, and faced with the possibility of a ghost in real life wasn't something she was prepared to deal with.

"Find anything good?" MJ called, watching her from across the room.

"We found some interesting things." She smiled, wishing everyone would disappear and she could be alone with him.

Since he'd been working on the Weston Plantation, she'd seen a side of him she never knew existed. She saw the man she always knew he'd be emerging.

She was changing too. Trusting him to be strong for both of them. Trusting her instincts. Letting go and opening herself, becoming vulnerable to him.

Their love had grown because of everything they'd been through. They understood it was worth fighting for and wouldn't always come easy, but they knew it was a love that very few people ever found. The once-in-a-lifetime kind.

The Rachael and Merrick kind.

The Archibald and Ingrid kind.

"I'll be right back," MJ told his dad. He took his hardhat off, rounded the drafting table and strode toward Maddie.

Merrick glanced over his shoulder and winked at her. Rachael tried and failed to hide a wide smile, diving into the trunk with both hands. Maddie's dad seemed to be the only one who wasn't in on whatever the others knew.

Grinning, she stepped back as MJ reached her. "What is this? What's going on?"

He grabbed her hands and pulled her to him, taking her hardhat off and kissing her. "Come with me for a minute."

MJ held her hand and they walked out the grand, double front doors onto the wide covered porch with huge white columns running up to the roof. She walked down the brick front steps beside him into the bright afternoon sunlight.

The gra.s.s was emerald green, the sky a bright autumn blue. It was her favorite season. They walked down the front path. The breeze blew her hair. "Where are you taking me?" she asked.

He looked back over his shoulder at the house and stopped. "Right here. Turn around."

She spun and took in the tall, sprawling white house. "It's amazing. I can't believe it's yours."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about." He took her hands and faced her. "When I look at this house, standing right in this spot, do you know what I see?"

"What?"

"I see you in a big, white dress. You're standing right here with your dad. I'm at the bottom of the stairs waiting for you."

Her eyes p.r.i.c.kled with tears. He smiled and brushed her hair back over her shoulder.

"Music starts to play-not Beck unless he gets a lot better by then-and your dad escorts you down the front walkway. When the two of you reach where I'm standing, he places your hand in mine."

Maddie couldn't hold her tears back. They flowed freely down over her cheeks.

"Mads, I want this to be our home. Not a business. I want to bring our five kids home from the hospital here. I want to have holidays here. I want to get old with you here."

He knelt down and took her hand. "This is not a proposal. Not yet. The next time I go down on one knee it will be." He took a silver ring out of his pocket and held it up to show her. A tiny, antique heart shaped lock and key were mounted on the filigree ring. It took Maddie's breath away.

"I'm asking for your heart," he said, "before I ask for your hand."

Maddie fell to her knees in front of him. "My heart could only be more yours if I took it out of my chest and handed it to you. I would love to make this a home with you MJ. You've always been my home."

He held her hand and slid the ring in place on her finger. Then he kissed her, the promise between them strong and solid.

About the Author.

USA Today bestselling author of Taken and its sequel, No Takebacks, Kelli Maine watches entirely too much reality TV, which led to her compulsion to write dramatic romance novels. Blessed with a unique ability to bond with difficult people, she's convinced she could win Big Brother. Her deathly fear of heights would keep her from completing half of the detours on The Amazing Race, and she's shocked n.o.body has ever penned The Survivor Diet Plan: Eat One Cup of Rice for Thirty-Nine Days and Lose Fifty Pounds!

Kelli lives in northeast Ohio with her family and a crazy cat that broke into their attic and refused to leave. Kelli loves hearing from fans and giving away Taken swag on her blog, www.kellimaine.blogspot.com.

Turn this page for a preview of.

Taken, the first in Kelli Maine's.

Give & Take series.

One.

Three months later...

The club is packed. Bodies grind together on the dance floor. There's barely room to move. You catch my eye.

You're alone.

Ba.s.s pounds through my body, rushes from my head to my toes, takes the same path your eyes follow. Your dark-eyed stare is flutter-soft on my skin. It raises goose b.u.mps. Makes me flush. My vodka and cranberry-soaked blood runs hot with need.

You smile. Dimples pierce your cheeks. Your eyes flash. I can't resist.

"Rach!" Shannon grabs my arm. She's sweaty from dancing and pulls her blond hair up off her shoulders. "I'm going." She tilts her head toward Shawn or Shane or Seth-I'm not sure-the guy she met two hours ago.

"How am I supposed to get home?" She drove.

Shannon shoves her car keys in my hand. "See you in the morning." She winks and pushes back through the crowd toward the guy whose name starts with an S.

When I turn from watching Shannon go, you're standing right in front of me. "Hi," you say. Familiarity strikes, but I don't think I'd ever forget meeting you.

"Hi." I fall into your dark eyes and can't get out. They're serious and focused on mine. Looking away would be a crime.

You run a hand through your wavy black-brown hair. Are you nervous? I can't tell. "What were you drinking?" You tap my gla.s.s, empty except for melting ice.

"Vodka and cranberry." I take in a thick, damp breath. Dancing bodies fog up the air, make it heavy to breathe.

You shake your beer bottle, indicating its emptiness. "I'm headed to the bar. Would you like another?"

I have to drive Shannon's car home, but I don't want to stop talking to you. I nod. "Please." I'll drink slowly. I'll drive even slower.

I follow behind you, taking in the view of your incredible backside in jeans. A black long-sleeved shirt shifts with your strong, wide shoulders and hugs your narrow waist. You work out. A lot. The body I'm staring at didn't come from luck and a good gene pool.

You glance back to make sure I'm following. When a group of people push between us, you reach out and take my hand. My fingers curl around yours like they're possessed.

We reach the bar. You squeeze between two men. I stand back to wait while you order. I watch you reach into your pocket. A second later, you turn to me and hand me a gla.s.s.

"Thanks." I take a deep drink, ignoring my self-promise to sip and make it last. Looking at you, I need all the courage this vodka is offering.

You sip your beer, watching me. An intense magnetism pulls between us. I'm sweating. I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand. The vodka is kicking in fast. I stumble sideways. You grip my arm.