CAROLE MORTIMER says, “I was born in England, the youngest of three children—I have two older brothers. I started writing in 1978, and have now written over a hundred books for Mills & Boon®.

“I have four sons—Matthew, Joshua, Timothy and Peter—and a bearded collie dog called Merlyn. I’m very happily married to Peter senior. We’re best friends as well as lovers, which is probably the best recipe for a successful relationship. We live on the Isle of Man.”

Bound by Contract
Carole Mortimer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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My husband,

Peter

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Title Page

Dedication

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

EPILOGUE

COPYRIGHT

PROLOGUE

‘I DON’T care what you thought, Edgar—I’m not interested in taking on one of your women!’

Edgar drew in a sharply angry breath. Gideon hadn’t even let him finish saying what he wanted to say before jumping down his throat—something that just didn’t happen to Edgar. As the owner of a production company, Edgar didn’t often come up against opposition, and certainly not in this bluntly verbal way. But then, when had Gideon ever been anything else? It was just as well he thought of Gideon almost as his son, otherwise the younger man would now be feeling the brunt of his own anger.

Edgar had invited Gideon to this weekend party at his country home with the sole intention of introducing him to Madison. Unfortunately, Gideon had told him a short time ago that he would be leaving early in the morning, and Madison wasn’t due to arrive until mid-afternoon, meaning that Edgar had to talk to him about Madison now…

And so, instead of giving the younger man the short, sharp reply he wanted to give, he gave him a look of intense irritation. ‘Madison is not one of my women, damn it—she’s my god-daughter!’

‘That makes a change from nieces!’ the younger man scorned. ‘And considering you’re an only child it’s amazing where they keep appearing from; two in the last six months, I believe!’

‘I wasn’t aware anyone was counting,’ Edgar felt stung into replying; he was a bachelor, for goodness’ sake, and if at sixty-two he still found women attractive and beddable, he didn’t expect to have to answer to anyone for it! ‘I will say this once again, Gideon—and I’ll emphasise this only once,’ he added harshly; he might be very fond of Gideon, but the younger man’s derision was unacceptable. ‘Madison is the daughter of—an old friend of mine. She also happens to be an actress.’

Gideon, as a director, was in the process of casting his next film, and Edgar, as the head of the production company that Gideon was currently working for, had someone in mind for the lead of that film. Unfortunately, as Gideon himself was too aware, he was the director of the moment. He had walked off with the Best Director award at the Oscars the previous year, and it had been a feather in Edgar’s cap that he’d managed to persuade Gideon to come back to England and work for his production company. But Gideon’s own superior position almost meant Edgar didn’t have the sway he would usually have with most other directors…

Gideon’s mouth tightened. ‘And I have never used the casting-couch approach when casting my films—and I’m not about to start now! Not even second-hand,’ he added pointedly.

Edgar had to try very hard to hold on to his temper this time. Gideon was a good twenty years younger than him, and physically fitter than Edgar had been for some years—but, even so, Edgar could feel his own temper rising to the pitch of violence. ‘I merely asked that you stay on until tomorrow afternoon so that you can meet Madison,’ he said icily. ‘I said nothing about going to bed with her!’

Gideon’s mouth twisted mockingly. ‘That’s as well—I prefer to pick my own bed-partners!’

Edgar sighed. ‘I think we’re straying from the point here.’

‘Not at all,’ the younger man dismissed. ‘You assured me I had a free hand with this film. Hell, you almost begged me to work for your production company—’

‘I think “beg” is exaggerating things rather, Gideon,’ he cut in dryly.

‘Sorry,’ Gideon returned without a tinge of regret in his voice, his mouth twisted with distaste. ‘You probably prefer to save that for your nieces. Or god-daughters!’ he added coldly.

Edgar didn’t doubt that the young man was angry, and he was fond of Gideon—but even so…! ‘I think you’re going too far, Gideon,’ he challenged. ‘We go back a long way ourselves, and of course your father and I remained friends even after—’

‘I don’t ever recall using any of my family connections with you when we agreed that I’d work for your company,’ Gideon cut in harshly, having stiffened defensively. ‘So why don’t we just agree not to discuss my father—or your god-daughter—for the rest of my stay here? Which ends in the morning,’ he added pointedly.

Once again Edgar drew in a sharply angry breath. He’d certainly hit upon a raw nerve by mentioning Gideon’s father. He would have been wiser not to have mentioned John—and definitely not to have almost mentioned the scandal that had ruined his career. He’d made a tactical error; Gideon’s anger was not what he wanted at the moment. What he really wanted was for Gideon to stay here until tomorrow afternoon and meet Madison…!

For that reason Edgar again swallowed his own anger, visibly relaxing. ‘I can assure you that Madison is not what you think she is,’ he told the younger man smoothly. ‘She’s very talented—’

‘What’s her full name?’

‘Madison McGuire.’

‘Never heard of her,’ Gideon dismissed scathingly, glancing around at the twenty or so other guests at Edgar’s home for the weekend, obviously bored by their own conversation.

Edgar noticed that Gideon was distracted—and it angered him again. ‘And you’re never likely to if you won’t even meet her!’ he snapped. ‘You want an unknown to play Rosemary; you said so yourself.’

‘But it will be an unknown of my own choosing, not yours!’ Gideon rasped, his grey eyes glacial as he met Edgar’s gaze. ‘Does she know about all this?’ he scorned. ‘Is that why you’re pushing so hard? Does she think the part is already hers?’ His mouth twisted scathingly.

He had pushed enough for the moment, Edgar realised; if he pushed any more just now Gideon might leave before he produced his pièce de résistance!

‘Madison knows nothing about this conversation, Gideon,’ he assured him smoothly; Madison would be no more pleased than Gideon if she did! ‘Why don’t we just forget about this for now—?’

‘Let’s just forget it—period, Edgar,’ the other man drawled in a bored voice.

Edgar had no intention of doing any such thing. He was doing the right thing by introducing Madison to Gideon; he was sure of it. He just hoped that Susan, darling Susan, would forgive him when she found out what he had done! Susan…

‘It’s time to watch my private showing of the new Tony Lawrence film,’ he told the younger man after receiving the signal from his manservant. ‘I’m sure you’re going to love it.’ He wasn’t sure of any such thing, but he was hoping—oh, yes, he was hoping…

But Gideon’s expression, as he sat beside him before the lights went down in the private theatre in the basement of the house, didn’t augur well. And so much depended on the next few minutes, so much more than even Gideon could guess. Otherwise he would already have walked out…!

Edgar kept his eyes on the screen, but he was completely aware of the man sitting next to him. He knew exactly the moment Madison appeared, could feel Gideon’s sudden tension, the way he sat forward in his seat, that habitual air of boredom that could be so irritating totally dissipated as his gaze was now riveted to the screen.

Yes!

Edgar could barely contain his own excitement. He was certain Gideon had taken the hook. Now all it depended on was whether or not they could get him to take the bait…!

One thing he did know: Gideon would not be leaving here early tomorrow morning, after all…

CHAPTER ONE

‘I NEVER believed in mermaids until this moment!’

She didn’t even open her eyes. The man with the silkily smooth voice was sure to be one of her uncle’s guests, and from the little she had seen of them since her arrival he wouldn’t be worth opening her eyes for!

She’d flown in from America only this afternoon; she was tired, jet-lagged, and desperate for sleep—which had proved impossible; her uncle had a houseful of guests for the weekend—noisy guests who seemed to invade most of the house.

She’d finally taken refuge in the swimming pool that took up half the basement of the house. Drifting on an airbed, she felt the warmth of the water relaxing her in a way that couldn’t be found in the main part of the house. The last thing she needed—or wanted—was to be found by one of her uncle’s guests!

‘No fish-tail,’ she murmured disparagingly as she wriggled her toes pointedly, still half asleep, her hands trailing in the warmth of the water. Her body looked youthfully slender in a turquoise-coloured bikini, while her long blonde hair trailed in the water behind her.

‘Mermaids don’t have fish-tails when on land,’ the man murmured mockingly.

‘But I’m in the water,’ she answered impatiently, keeping her face averted from the direction of his voice, wishing she’d never entered into the verbal exchange; perhaps if she had kept quiet he would have just gone away!

‘On the water,’ the man corrected her smoothly. ‘Tell me, is that accent for real, or are you just rehearsing for a part?’ he added derisively.

Her mouth tightened. She wanted some peace and quiet; surely the fact that she was down here alone made that more than obvious? And yet this man persisted in talking to her, even passing comment on her American accent. In fact, he was a damned nuisance!

‘Is that accent for real?’ she returned in a perfect imitation of his educated English accent. ‘Or are you just rehearsing for a part?’

‘Touché,’ he murmured appreciatively.

‘What makes you think I’m an actress?’ She felt drawn into asking, becoming intrigued in spite of herself.

‘Most, if not all, of Edgar’s guests this weekend are involved in the acting world,’ the man drawled.

‘Including yourself?’ she prompted lightly.

‘Including myself,’ he confirmed dryly.

She wasn’t impressed. Her mother had been full of dire warnings when she’d told her she wanted to be an actress, but one piece of her mother’s advice she had learnt to take to heart: never become involved with anyone else in the business!

It was something she had to admit she’d learnt the hard way, falling for one of the male leads in the first play she’d ever been in off-Broadway. What she hadn’t realised at the time was that his interest would last only as long as the run of the play—all of three weeks!—when he would then move on to the next play, the next gullible actress. She was still smarting from the experience. Of the man. And the folded play.

Which was why she’d taken one look at the guests here today and disappeared to the peace of the indoor swimming-pool; she could spend some time with Edgar once the other guests had gone. She still felt too emotionally raw to mix with the ‘beautiful people’ just yet!

She certainly hadn’t expected to have her privacy invaded in this way. But then, the man had said he was involved in acting, so he was sure to be full of—

God, she was still angry at Gerry for turning out to be every inch the bastard her mother had warned her that actors could be! She’d thought she was over it, but obviously not…

Perhaps it was time she took a look at this mystery man. Who knew? He might just be the answer to every woman’s prayer! Hell, she was becoming cynical on top of everything else!

‘Everything else’ was her disastrous love-affair with Gerry, and the fact that she was temporarily ‘resting’. That sounded so interesting, but all it really meant was that she was out of work—again. All she had to show for her time at drama school was one walk-on part in a film, and a play that had folded after only three weeks; she ‘rested’ more than she worked!

‘I shouldn’t fall asleep in there, if I were you,’ the man said mockingly, infuriatingly interrupting her solitude once again, letting her know that he hadn’t gone away, as she’d hoped he might.

‘Look, I thank you for your advice,’ she snapped sarcastically, ‘but I’ll do what the hell I—’ Her angry retort died on her lips as she finally turned her head to look at her tormenter. No! It couldn’t be! This man was— ‘You—! I—!’ Her shocked surprise was lost in a gurgle of water as, having now turned fully sideways to look at him, she totally lost her balance, falling into the water with a splash and a tangle of graceful limbs.

That man!

She knew him!

No, she didn’t know him! She just—

God, this water tasted awful. And she seemed to be swallowing most of the pool. It was—

She had to get to the surface. She was slowly sinking to the bottom, and—

Suddenly there was a movement of water beside her, the strength of an arm about her waist, and she was being pulled roughly to the surface.

She would have started to swim to the side then, but that arm remained about her like a steel band, turning her over on to her back as she was pulled over to the side of the pool, before being dumped unceremoniously on to the side.

Even as she opened her mouth to protest at this man’s rough handling of her she felt herself being rolled over on to her stomach, hands pounding against her back.

‘Stop it!’ she finally gasped, fighting for breath, her hands flying backwards as she tried to stop that painful pummelling. ‘You’re hurting me!’ she cried impotently.

‘Hurting you!’ he repeated harshly, turning her over on to her back, a knee at either side of her body as he straddled her, cold water dripping over her from his wet clothes. ‘I’d like to tan your backside!’ His face was contorted with anger. ‘Are you totally stupid, going into a pool alone when you can’t even swim? I take back what I said about the mermaid; you looked like a stranded whale just now!’

She opened her mouth to protest at this verbal attack, and then closed it again. This man looked ready to carry out his threat to smack her!

Which wasn’t surprising, when he’d obviously jumped into the water fully clothed in order to save her…!

No, she mustn’t laugh—or she had no doubt he would tan her backside! This wasn’t the time to see the funny side of this. That would have to come later!

‘How gracious of you,’ she drawled. ‘But, contrary to what you may think, I can swim—very well, as it happens.’ She had just been so surprised by the identity of this man that she’d forgotten to swim.

Gideon Byrne. Oscar-winning film director. She’d watched the awards on television herself the previous year, seen him as he’d gone up on to the stage to collect his award, heard his brief acceptance speech. Tall and dark, with metallic-grey eyes, he had a presence that would have been electric on stage or film, but he’d chosen to use his talent behind rather than in front of the camera, and was as far removed from her in the world of acting as the sun was from the moon—and she had been treating him as nothing more than an irritating intrusion!

‘Then I can only assume that on this occasion you lost your sense of direction—because you were heading for the bottom of the pool, not the top!’ he scorned disgustedly, finally moving off her to sit down at the side of the pool, pushing an agitated hand through the dark wetness of his hair.

She became aware of her own dishevelled appearance, her hair a blonde tangle about her shoulders and down her back, her bikini affording her little cover. But then, she hadn’t expected to see anyone. Or for anyone to see her!

She stood up in one fluid movement, moving to the lounger where she’d left her robe when she’d come down earlier. Pulling it on, she instantly felt warmer, and better able to deal with the situation.

‘I really am sorry, Mr Byrne,’ she began apologetically. ‘I—’

‘You know who I am?’ he snapped harshly as he turned to look at her with coldly accusing eyes.

‘Of course,’ she acknowledged smoothly. ‘Doesn’t everyone?’ she added lightly as he continued to glare at her.

She would have been decidedly out of touch in the acting world if she hadn’t recognised this man. After his success the previous year the newspapers had been full of photographs and articles about him. Admittedly he was usually scowling in those photographs, but—

Not so different from now, really, she realised ruefully. She’d thought at the time that he probably didn’t like having his photograph taken, that he was one of those directors who believed it was his work that was important, not his private life. But maybe it was just that he rarely smiled, after all…

‘Not that I’m aware,’ he dismissed coldly, standing up, giving her the full benefit of just how wet he actually was.

He was wearing black denims and a pale grey shirt—silk, if she weren’t mistaken—and both articles of clothing were clinging to him. And, while the wetness of that clothing revealed just how masculine he was, his shoulders wide and powerful, his stomach flat, his hips tapered, he must also be very uncomfortable. And all because he’d thought she was drowning!

‘You underestimate your fame, Mr Byrne,’ she answered lightly. ‘And I think perhaps you should get out of those wet clothes,’ she suggested, with a guilty grimace. ‘Before you catch pneumonia!’

‘Not very likely in this hot-house.’ But be began to unbutton his shirt anyway, revealing the dark hair that grew on his wide chest as he pulled the clinging material away from him and threw the dripping shirt down on to the tiled floor, before unbuttoning his denims, obviously with the intention of doing the same thing with them.

Much to her dismay! She might be twenty-two, and not a complete innocent where men were concerned, but she didn’t usually have complete strangers stripping off in front of her, either!

‘Er—I think Uncle Edgar left one of his robes in the changing room.’ She turned away awkwardly. ‘I’ll go and check for you.’ She moved hastily away, her cheeks hot with embarrassment, as Gideon Byrne continued to strip off his denims. Admittedly, he was wearing black briefs underneath, but there was no guarantee he wasn’t going to strip those off next…!

Gideon Byrne, she thought breathlessly as she hurried to the changing room, trying to remember exactly what it was she had read about him in the newspapers the previous year. Thirty-eight, dark brown hair, grey eyes, unmarried, only child of the long-dead actor John Byrne…

But none of those cold facts could have prepared her for the flesh-and-blood man. How could the newspapers possibly describe the aura of electric energy that surrounded the man, or the cynicism that coloured every word he spoke? They couldn’t. They hadn’t!

Well, at least she had found the perfect cure for jet-lag; one dose of Gideon Byrne, and all the tiredness from her journey had completely left her!

Uncle Edgar hadn’t mentioned that he had such a famous guest staying here when he’d met her at the airport earlier, or since her arrival at the house. If he had done, she might have been more prepared!

However, she was no more prepared for the sheer physical male beauty of his body when she returned with the robe—although, thankfully, he had kept the black briefs on!

She guessed he was well over six feet in height—as he seemed to tower over her five feet eight inches. His muscular body was deeply tanned; muscles rippled powerfully beneath his skin, and there was a fine sprinkling of dark hair over all of his body, becoming much thicker on the width of his chest. He was gorgeous!

‘Thanks.’

She stared at him blankly for several seconds, wondering if she had spoken those words out loud, realising she hadn’t as he held his hand out for the robe she carried.

‘Sorry,’ she muttered awkwardly, thrusting her hands into the pockets of her own towelling robe once he’d taken the one she was holding to pull on over his near-nakedness.

‘Uncle Edgar?’ He quirked dark brows at her questioningly as he tied the belt in place.

‘It’s an honorary title.’ She was relieved to talk of something normal after the impact this man had made on her senses, hoping she wasn’t making too big an idiot of herself. Although she thought she probably was! ‘My name is Madison McGuire,’ she told him lightly, holding out her hand. ‘Edgar Remington is my godfather.’

Gideon Byrne didn’t look impressed by this explanation; his mouth twisted scornfully as he touched her hand only lightly in return. Although it was enough for Madison to feel the thrill of electricity that ran up her arm. That aura didn’t just surround him, it went right through him!

‘Edgar is many things, to many people, but this is the first time I’ve heard him referred to as The Godfather!’ he drawled.

Madison gave him a look of amused reproval. ‘I doubt he would be flattered by that name!’

‘Probably not,’ Gideon Byrne accepted dryly. ‘But he’s a first-class manipulator nonetheless!’

She had known Edgar Remington all of her life. She knew him as a good friend of her parents, and also as her benevolent godfather, but she was aware there had to be another side to him, the side that headed one of the top film production companies in the world, and headed it well.

As a film director, perhaps that was the side of him that Gideon Byrne knew best…?

‘I wouldn’t know about that,’ Madison dismissed with a shrug; her very minor part in a film might have been in one produced by Edgar’s company, but even so she had had no contact with her uncle because of it, her almost non-existent role having been filmed on location in Scotland.

But what she did know was that dinner was going to be in an hour, and her hair was drying into tangles; she needed a shower and to wash her hair before the meal. She had half excused herself from attending dinner to Edgar earlier, saying she was too tired to be very good company for anyone, but after meeting this man she was wide awake. And hungry, she inwardly acknowledged.

‘Wouldn’t you?’

She gave Gideon a startled look, as much for the coldness of his tone as for the question itself. Was it her imagination, or was there an accusing edge to his voice? And, if so, what possible reason could this man have for feeling that way?

She gave a puzzled frown, shaking her head. ‘It’s getting late, Mr Byrne—’

‘Call me Gideon,’ he rasped harshly.

This man might be one of the most handsome men she’d ever set eyes on, but his manners certainly left a lot to be desired! And she’d always been led to believe Englishmen had the best manners in the world; obviously no one had acquainted Gideon Byrne with that fact!

She gave an acknowledging inclination of her head. ‘It was very kind of you to jump into the water to save me earlier.’

‘When you’ve known me a little longer—Madison, you’ll realise kindness is not part of my nature!’ he retorted harshly.

No, she didn’t think it would be; he came over as a hard, unyielding man, one who rarely smiled. And she very much doubted she would get to know him ‘a little longer’ their paths would never cross again after this weekend.

‘Besides,’ he added derisively, ‘according to you, you didn’t need saving!’

No, she hadn’t, but it had still been kind of him to jump into the pool fully clothed, no matter what he might say to the contrary. ‘If there’s any permanent damage to your clothes, please do let me know,’ she told him evenly. ‘I’ll be happy to replace them.’ She wasn’t quite sure how a silk shirt would stand up to the chemicals in the pool water!

‘Oh, don’t worry, you’ll hear from me if that’s the case,’ he rasped. ‘Tell me, is that the natural colour of your hair?’

‘What…?’ Madison was stunned by the abrupt change of subject—and the fact that the question didn’t just border on being rude; it was rude!

At the moment, her hair was the colour of dark honey, but once she had washed and dried it it would be the colour of ripe corn, long and straight almost down to her waist. And, yes, it was her natural colour. As was the green of her eyes. And the light golden tan of her skin. In fact, all of her was real!

‘You never can tell nowadays,’ Gideon Byrne added insultingly, making no apology for the very personal remark.

‘It’s natural,’ she answered him hardly, a perplexed frown marring her brow.

If she hadn’t known better, she would have said this man disliked her. But surely that couldn’t be so—the man didn’t even know her. Probably he was just annoyed with her because of his unnecessarily wet clothing?

He nodded abruptly. ‘I thought so.’

And…? But maybe there wasn’t an ‘and’ with this man. He might be one of the top film directors in the world, with an Oscar at home to prove it, but he was also one of the coldest, rudest men Madison had ever met…

And, thinking of cold, she was starting to shiver now, and was badly in need of that hot shower she’d promised herself a few minutes ago. ‘If you don’t mind, I think I would like to go upstairs and take a shower before dinner,’ she told him pleasantly.

He met her gaze challengingly. ‘And if I do mind?’ he drawled.

Madison didn’t so much as blink at his rudeness this time. ‘Then I’m still going upstairs to take a shower,’ she said bluntly. Maybe that was the only way to be with this man; politeness certainly didn’t seem to work!

To her surprise, he smiled. And it transformed his face from austere coldness to friendly warmth. Well…almost, she decided. Friendly was perhaps going too far! But he did look more approachable, Madison tried to convince herself. Not that she intended ‘approaching’ him; she was quite happy to just part on that one smile, sure that it was more than a lot of people got out of him.

‘Maybe you and I are going to get on after all, Madison McGuire,’ he murmured enigmatically.

She wasn’t sure she would go quite that far on the basis of one smile! Besides, there must be mere hours left of his visit—hardly long enough for them to need to ‘get on’…

‘If you say so,’ she acknowledged noncommittally. ‘Nice to have met you, Mr Byrne,’ she added politely before turning to leave.

‘Liar!’ came his softly taunting reply from behind her.

Madison paused, turning slowly back to face him. ‘I’m not in the habit of lying, Mr Byrne—’

‘I thought I told you to call me Gideon,’ he rasped harshly.

She frowned. ‘Perhaps you did—Mr Byrne,’ she felt stung into replying; really, the man was nothing but an arrogant bully! ‘But—’

‘We haven’t been formally introduced?’ he cut in derisively. ‘I think it’s a little late in our acquaintance for that; after all, I did attempt to save your life a short time ago!’

‘Attempt’ just about described it! If he hadn’t startled her in the way he had, she wouldn’t have fallen into the water in the first place!

‘I was about to say—but I really couldn’t be so familiar with a film director of your calibre,’ she finished forcefully. ‘But on second thoughts…! I’m not in the habit of lying— Gideon, and it hasn’t been nice meeting you at all!’ She turned on her heel and walked away, going up the stairs that led back to the main part of the house.

And, as she did so, she could swear she heard the sound of Gideon Byrne chuckling down in the pool-room.

Ridiculous. That man didn’t even know how to chuckle!

What a monumental pain in the—! She had never met anyone like him. Cold. Rude. Arrogant. If that was what being awarded an Oscar did for you, she hoped she never got one!

Not that she was ever likely to, she groaned inwardly, if she went around upsetting directors of Gideon Byrne’s calibre.

Oh, hell!

Best just to forget she had ever met him. With any luck, he would have left before dinner…

Gideon’s humour faded as soon as he heard the loud thud of the door closing behind her.

She had pluck; he would give her that. She was also incredibly beautiful, in exactly the way he had noticed on the screen last night as he’d sat watching the Tony Lawrence film.

He had immense respect for the other director, and as he hadn’t had the chance to see his new film yet he’d enjoyed watching it from a technical angle, anyway. But when the serving girl had walked across the screen it was as if he had been given an electric shock…!

He’d been looking for just such a girl for the last six months, seen dozens of would-be-hopefuls, but none of them were exactly what he wanted. When Madison McGuire had walked across the screen last night he’d known he had at last seen his Rosemary.

She was everything he wanted Rosemary to be: the delicately beautiful face of an angel, the deep green of her eyes as she looked briefly at the camera a bonus he hadn’t been expecting, her neck long and creamy, looking too fragile to support the weight of that long, corn-coloured hair, her body boyishly slender, her legs, he had discovered only minutes ago, long and coltish.

Yes, she was everything he was looking for, and as he’d avidly studied the credits, looking for her name, he had read ‘Madison McGuire’ next to ‘serving girl’.

Madison McGuire! The very girl Edgar had been trying minutes ago to persuade him to stay on and meet. And as he’d glanced sideways at Edgar he’d seen that smile of satisfaction on the older man’s face. Damn him!

Part of Gideon had wanted to say to hell with Edgar and this Madison, and just leave as he’d planned. But the other part of him, the purely professional part, had known he would be a fool if he left without even seeing her. Although it had gone against the grain to tell Edgar he had decided to stay on another day after all. Especially as Edgar had taken his decision so calmly, only the twinkling blue of his eyes giving away the fact that he was well aware of exactly what—and who!—had changed Gideon’s mind!

Well, now he had seen Madison.

And she was everything, if not more than he had been looking for in the lead for his next film. The American accent had come as a bit of a surprise; Edgar had forgotten to mention that little fact when he’d spoken of her, and in her part in last night’s film she had merely murmured ‘Thank you, sir’—which had given him no idea where she came from. But she had proved minutes ago that she was perfectly capable of adopting an English accent if she needed to—if only to mock him with!

Yes, he had seen Madison McGuire. Now all he had to do was offer her the part of Rosemary. It was whether or not she would accept that he wasn’t altogether sure of. She would be a fool if she didn’t; the film would be the making of her career. It all depended on just how much she’d decided it hadn’t been nice meeting him!

‘Been for a swim, Gideon?’

Edgar! Just his luck to walk straight into his host in the hallway, Gideon decided as he slowly turned.

Or was it luck? Edgar looked confidently amused—as if he was well aware under what circumstances Gideon had been for a ‘swim’. Perhaps his ‘goddaughter’ had run to Uncle Edgar with the tale of the terrible Gideon Byrne?

Or maybe not. Madison, for all she looked so fragile, had been perfectly capable of fighting her own battles a few minutes ago—at least, verbally!

‘I met Madison down at the pool,’ he told the other man dryly.

‘Yes?’ Edgar returned confidently.

It was that confidence that rankled so much with Gideon. It bordered on smug—and it made Gideon want to wipe the smile right off Edgar’s face!

He shrugged. ‘I didn’t have a costume, but that didn’t seem to bother Madison too much,’ he told the other man challengingly.

Edgar’s humour faded, his eyes taking on that steely quality that would be a warning to lesser men than Gideon. ‘I sincerely hope you’re joking, Gideon,’ he bit out tersely. ‘Madison is here for a little TLC, not to deal with idiots who choose to go skinny-dipping in my pool!’

Gideon could tell that Edgar was more than a little annoyed; he would never have called him an idiot otherwise. But it was his reference to Madison needing TLC that intrigued him. Madison had looked no more than twenty or so, hardly old enough to be recovering from a broken marriage or something like that. Which begged the question, what could be the reason she needed TLC? But it wasn’t a question he intended asking Edgar—he wouldn’t give the other man the satisfaction!

He shrugged, smiling grimly. ‘I told you, Madison didn’t seem to mind. Now, if you’ll excuse me,’ he added as Edgar seemed intent on pursuing the subject, ‘I think I’ll follow her example and take a shower before dinner.’

Edgar’s eyes were narrowed to steely slits. ‘I thought you were leaving before dinner?’

Last night he had decided he would take a look at this Madison McGuire and then leave, and he had told Edgar the latter, at least. But now that he had seen Madison there was no way he was leaving here until he had spoken to her, and looked at her, some more. There was a hell of a lot of work to do, and he didn’t have too much time left in which to do it. In fact, now that he had seen Madison, there was no time to lose.

He shrugged again. ‘I changed my mind. See you later, Edgar,’ he told the other man firmly before walking away.

Edgar had brought Madison to his attention, and that was the end of the other man’s involvement in the situation as far as Gideon was concerned. He didn’t give a damn what she was to the other man; if she was going to work for Gideon, she was going to do it on his terms.

Or not at all!

CHAPTER TWO

‘WELL, well, well, if it isn’t Madison McGuire; I wondered if I would recognise you with your clothes on!’

Madison had tensed at the first sound of Gideon Byrne’s infuriating voice, but at his last remark she spun round indignantly. What did he think he was doing?

She had been relieved earlier when she’d entered the sitting-room for a pre-dinner drink to discover that Gideon Byrne wasn’t there, breathing easier when she realised she wouldn’t be having another verbal fencing match with him all evening.

She’d even relaxed enough to indulge in a mild flirtation with Drew Armitage, a man she knew slightly from working on the film in Scotland some months before. Drew was boyishly handsome, and she’d easily been able to see his admiration for her, dressed in the figure-hugging flame-coloured dress, her hair newly washed, cascading in loose golden curls down her back, her subtle make-up highlighting the deep green of her eyes.

A quick glance at Drew now, after Gideon’s deliberately provocative remark, and she knew he was adding two and two together and coming up with five!

‘Gideon!’ she greeted smoothly, moving to kiss him warmly on the cheek. ‘You dress up real nice yourself,’ she told him in a husky Southern drawl.

He did dress up nice, she inwardly acknowledged, the black dinner suit and snowy white shirt tailored to his muscular frame, his handsome face appearing as if etched from stone, although there was a mocking glint in the dark grey of his eyes as he returned her gaze. He was enjoying himself, Madison realised…

‘Do you know Drew?’ She turned pointedly to the other man. ‘Drew, this is—’

‘Gideon Byrne,’ the younger man finished, a slightly awed expression on his face as he shook hands with him. ‘I enjoyed Shifting Time very much.’ He referred to Gideon’s Oscar-winning film.

‘Thanks,’ Gideon said smoothly. ‘I thought you were rather good in Hidden Highland.’

Drew looked suitably pleased by the praise; it was Madison who looked at Gideon through narrowed lids. Hidden Highland was her only film credit to date, her entire part comprising all of two lines, both of them mundane. But Gideon had seen the film. Had he noticed her in it too…?

Gideon returned her gaze with raised brows. ‘Something wrong, Madison?’ he prompted mockingly.

Even if he had recognised her in the film, Madison realised he wasn’t about to comment on her performance! Not that there had been much to comment on. He might even have gone out to the bathroom during the three-minute section of the film that she had appeared in!

‘Not in the least, Gideon,’ she returned lightly. ‘Don’t let us keep you, if you would like to go and help yourself to a drink,’ she added dismissively.

Gideon’s mouth twisted ruefully as he held back a smile, obviously easily able to see her words for what they were—and to be amused by them!

‘I was just about to go and get myself a refill,’ Drew put in quickly. ‘Could I get something for you while I’m there?’ He looked enquiringly at the older man.

‘An orange juice would be fine, thanks,’ Gideon accepted, his gaze still fixed on Madison.

And it was a very unnerving gaze, Madison decided. It had been bad enough down at the pool earlier, but now she felt as if the damned man was dissecting everything about her. There was certainly none of the admiration of her appearance in his dark grey gaze that she’d seen in Drew’s!

‘Madison?’ Drew prompted softly.

‘I’m fine, thanks.’ She indicated her glass, still half full with white wine.

‘You shouldn’t drink too much of that stuff, you know,’ Gideon bit out tersely once the other man had left to get the drinks.

‘I shouldn’t?’ Madison eyed him warily—the trouble with this man, she decided, was you never quite knew what he was going to say next!

He shook his head. ‘How old are you?’

Like that! What on earth did her age have to do with anything?

‘Twenty-two,’ she answered cautiously.

‘Hmm.’ Gideon pulled a face. ‘Well, the alcohol obviously hasn’t started having an effect on you yet. At least, outwardly—you only look about eighteen! But inwardly it may be a different matter.’

Madison frowned up at him. Somewhere in all of that she felt he had given her a compliment—it was just so ambiguous it didn’t feel like one! ‘You don’t drink, Gideon?’ She had noticed his request for only orange juice.

‘No,’ he returned harshly. ‘It impedes rather than heightens the senses, has a disastrous effect on the skin and body organs, is—’

‘I get the gist, Gideon,’ she cut in laughingly; this was a house party, for goodness’ sake, not an AA meeting! ‘As it happens, I only drink wine, and then only on occasions like this.’ She looked around them pointedly at the groups of other chattering guests.

He shrugged, no answering humour in his own stern expression. ‘That’s the way most people start. You—’

‘Here we are.’ Drew arrived back with the drinks, handing the older man the requested orange juice. ‘I hope you’ll both excuse me.’ He smiled apologetically. ‘Edgar just wants to have a quick word with me.’

‘Really?’ Gideon returned mockingly.

‘Hmm.’ Drew nodded. ‘Nice to meet you, Gideon. I’ll catch up with you later, Madison.’ He squeezed her arm lightly in parting.

She watched as Drew hurried over to where her uncle Edgar stood waiting for him near the window, Edgar giving an acknowledging inclination of his head in Madison and Gideon’s direction before turning away to talk to Drew.

‘I wonder what Edgar is finding to talk to him about?’ Gideon mused dryly at her side. ‘Whatever it is, I’m damned sure it wasn’t important enough that Edgar had to talk to him right this moment! Except as a means of leaving the two of us alone together,’ he added scathingly.

Madison turned slowly to look at him, frowning. ‘What do you mean?’

He made it sound as if her godfather was matchmaking, and, as Edgar was fully aware of the raw state of her emotions, she couldn’t see that being the case at all. In fact, when she’d seen Uncle Edgar earlier, and told him about the disaster down in the pool-room, he’d looked more than a little irritated. Until she made him see the funny side of it.

Although she still didn’t find it that funny herself…

Gideon looked at her with mocking eyes. ‘I told you earlier that Edgar is a manipulator,’ he said enigmatically.

He might be, but he wasn’t a sadist—and matching her with a cynic like Gideon Byrne would definitely put him in that category!

She shrugged. ‘And, as I explained then, I just don’t see him like that.’ She looked around, wondering if there was anyone else she could go off and talk to. Anyone, as long as she didn’t have to stand here talking to this man any longer!

But there was no one else that she knew in the room—several faces she recognised, of course, but not through personal knowledge, only from films or television. Edgar certainly knew some famous people; in fact, she was a little out of place in such distinguished company. Including the man at her side!

‘I wouldn’t bother, if I were you,’ Gideon drawled as he watched her quick survey of the room. ‘Edgar would veer anyone off who looked like interrupting us!’

She turned back to him, a frown once again marring her creamy brow. In fact, she had frowned so much since meeting this man earlier today, she was surprised he hadn’t told her she shouldn’t do that, either!

‘Any why would he do that?’ she prompted lightly.

Gideon shrugged. ‘Because he wants to give me the time to offer you a screen-test with a view to a part in my next film. And for you to have the time to accept the offer!’

Madison stared at him. She seemed to do that a lot around this man too! But then he said some of the most outrageous—and unbelievable things. A screen-test! This man wanted to give her a screen-test? With a view to being in his next film—

No, that wasn’t what he had said… What he had actually said was her uncle Edgar wanted him to do that, which wasn’t the same thing at all!

She gave a rueful smile. ‘You’ll have to forgive Uncle Edgar.’ She grimaced. ‘He’s just a very doting godfather, who means well, but doesn’t see that—’

‘He’s a very powerful doting godfather,’ Gideon put in harshly.

And it was obvious this man resented whatever power Edgar might have tried to exert over him on Madison’s behalf. Which she couldn’t exactly blame him for. Gideon Byrne was a powerful man in his own right, and her godfather, if he had tried to force Madison into this man’s notice, should have thought of that.

If he had. She wasn’t absolutely sure that Gideon hadn’t just misunderstood Edgar.

‘I see it’s time for us to go in to dinner,’ Gideon drawled as the other guests began to stroll towards the dining-room.

Madison was still so inwardly disturbed by what Gideon had said about her godfather that she offered no protest when he took a firm hold of her arm and took her into the dining-room with him.

‘You see?’ Gideon murmured derisively when it turned out that Madison was seated between himself and Drew at the long oak table.

She was starting to! But Edgar, when she looked down the long table to where he sat at its head, appeared to be so engrossed in what the lady to his right was saying to him that he didn’t seem aware of Madison’s compelling gaze levelled at him.

‘So when can you come in for a screen-test?’

She turned to give Gideon a startled look—a look he returned with cold, unblinking grey eyes. ‘You can’t be serious!’ she finally managed to gasp.

‘I’m never anything else where my work is concerned,’ he informed her grimly. ‘I saw you in Hidden Highland,’ he admitted dryly. ‘You have a certain—look that I find…interesting,’ he continued guardedly. ‘I’ll be able to tell you more once I’ve had you read for me, but…’ He shrugged. ‘Let’s just wait and see, shall we?’

Wait and see!

Wait and see what? This man might be one of the hottest film directors in Hollywood at the moment—the public waiting with bated breath to see what his next film was going to be—but in the few hours Madison had known him she had also discovered that he was rude and arrogant, cynical to the point of being unbearable. Even if he should—by some miracle!—offer her a part in his film, how on earth would she ever be able to work with such a man?

Don’t envisage situations that don’t yet exist, she told herself firmly. And which may never exist, she added ruefully. She didn’t believe Gideon liked her any more than she liked him.

‘Eat your dinner,’ he instructed abruptly; most of the other guests were already halfway through their starter of smoked salmon mousse.

She felt a resentful flush in her cheeks. ‘I’m twenty-two, Gideon,’ she snapped, ‘not two!’

‘Please eat your dinner?’ He arched mocking brows.

It was certainly an improvement, but from him it still sounded like an order!

But Madison wasn’t in the mood for any more conversation with him! ‘Better,’ she nodded, picking up her knife and fork and beginning to eat.

To her surprise she heard the chuckle she’d thought she’d heard earlier down in the pool-room, and so she looked up at Gideon with quizzical green eyes.

He looked younger when he laughed, less strained, even the grey of his eyes taking on a luminous quality. He also, in this more relaxed state, reminded her of someone—she just couldn’t quite place who…

‘What is it?’ He sobered as she looked thoughtful.

She shook her head. ‘Nothing.’ It would come to her, but in the meantime she didn’t intend discussing it with Gideon. ‘You should smile more often, though; it makes you look half human!’ She regretted her bluntness as soon as the words left her mouth; it was just that this man irritated her so much, all her own social niceties seemed to desert her in favour of his own rudeness whenever she was around him.

Her mother would have been horrified if she could hear her. She’d always impressed upon her that good manners cost nothing, but that they invariably made a good impression. The trouble with that theory around Gideon Byrne was that he didn’t seem to have a good impression of anyone, least of all her!

‘Only half human, hmm?’ He quirked mocking brows. ‘What do you think the other half of me is?’

He wouldn’t like it if she told him! ‘Eat your dinner, Gideon.’ She briskly repeated his own order.

He shook his head. ‘You remind me of a teacher I had at school. The Dragon, we used to call her!’

Much more of this and she would tell him what she mentally called him—and it was nowhere near as polite as The Dragon!

‘Did you go to school in England, Gideon?’ She lightly changed the subject, putting her knife and fork neatly on the plate as she gave up all hope of eating the smoked salmon. Her appetite hadn’t been that great once she realised Gideon was still here, anyway, but now that she was actually seated next to him…!

A shutter seemed to come down over his eyes, giving them that steely quality once again, while his mouth became a thin, straight line, his body no longer relaxed, but strained with tension.

She’d only asked if he’d gone to school in England, for goodness’ sake; she had thought that would be a safe subject for them to talk about. Obviously she’d thought wrong!

‘Why do you ask?’ he rasped suspiciously.

‘No reason,’ she shrugged, wondering what she could have said wrong this time; talking to this man was like walking across a minefield! ‘I was educated in the States, obviously, but, being an actor, your father probably worked mainly in America, so I just wondered—’

‘My parents separated when I was seven,’ Gideon put in harshly. ‘And I lived in England with my mother from that age, so yes, I was educated in England!’

His parents’ separation had been that particular minefield! Well, how was she supposed to know that? Gideon would already have been sixteen by the time she was born, and his father had been long dead before she’d become aware of his films.

John Byrne had been of the Steve McQueen, Dustin Hoffman era, but he had died young, in his thirties, having only made a dozen or so films before his death. Yet his brilliance on screen had been undoubted, his charisma electric.

But perhaps his parents’ separation, and the subsequent death of his father, explained why Gideon was so remote himself? It was a sad fact of life that if you didn’t love anyone, then you couldn’t be hurt by their loss.

Maybe if Madison had appreciated that earlier she wouldn’t have been so hurt by Gerry’s defection!

Although she could never see herself being as emotionally removed as Gideon Byrne.

‘What about your own family, Madison?’ Gideon cut in on her thoughts. ‘I’m interested in why it is you have an English godparent,’ he added dryly as she looked at him questioningly.

He might be ‘interested’, but that was a curiosity Madison didn’t intend satisfying. ‘An English godparent who spends a lot of his time in the States,’ she dismissed lightly. ‘And yes, I have family: my mother and father, and an older brother. They all live in Nevada.’

‘But not you,’ Gideon said thoughtfully.

‘Some of the time I do,’ she corrected him; she spent quite a lot of time at home ‘resting’! ‘But an invitation from Edgar is hard to refuse!’

‘So I’ve found,’ he acknowledged grimly.

On further acquaintance with this man she didn’t believe he could ever be forced into doing something he didn’t want to do; Edgar might have issued the invitation, but Gideon was here because he chose to be.

‘Mm, this looks delicious!’ She thankfully turned her attention to the main course that had now been placed in front of her. ‘I just love English roast beef with all the trimmings!’

‘Makes a change from burgers, hmm?’ Gideon taunted.

She hadn’t even tasted a burger until she was in her teens and out with her friends one evening. Her mother had always insisted on a healthy diet for her two children, with plenty of vegetables, chicken and fish, and after trying that one burger Madison had had to agree with her!

‘A struggling actress has to eat what she can afford,’ she returned noncommittally.

Gideon shrugged. ‘Then it’s just as well you stopped struggling.’

‘I—’ She abruptly stopped speaking as she realised exactly what he was implying. ‘We’re both guests in Edgar’s home, Gideon,’ she bit out angrily. ‘I suggest we both try and act that way!’

How dared he even think—! Who did he think—? He was the most impossible, insulting man Madison had ever met!

And she for one wasn’t going to waste any more of her time on him. She turned to her left to talk to Drew when she wasn’t concentrating on her food, totally ignoring Gideon now—a fact he didn’t seem particularly bothered by, chatting easily with the woman sitting on his right.

There had been no mistaking his implication concerning her relationship with Edgar; this man didn’t believe for one minute that she was actually the other man’s god-daughter!

Well, he was mistaken, because that was exactly what she was—all she was to Edgar. Oh, she knew about Edgar’s reputation with women; her mother had been teasing him for years about the fact that it was time he settled down with just one woman. Edgar’s usual reply to that was the only woman he would possibly be interested in marrying was already married to someone else. He meant her mother, of course…

But Edgar’s reputation as a ladies’ man did not give Gideon Byrne the right to jump to conclusions concerning Madison’s relationship with him, and she deeply resented his implication that she was using Edgar to further her career. As far as she was concerned, Gideon could stick his screen-test—

‘I think you’ve had enough, don’t you?’

She turned sharply at the sound of Gideon’s mocking voice, looking down at the wine glass in her hand. She had allowed her glass to be filled a couple of times during the meal, if only in an effort to show Gideon Byrne—who she was sure knew exactly how much wine she had drunk!—that she would do exactly what she wanted to do, and his opinion counted for nothing.

And it still counted for nothing!

Her green eyes flashed a warning as she met his derisive gaze. ‘I think I’m perfectly capable of knowing for myself when I’ve had enough wine to drink—thank you,’ she said hardly.

His mouth twisted. ‘I wasn’t referring to the wine,’ he drawled. ‘Although I agree you’ve probably had enough of that too—’

‘You—’

‘I was actually referring to the fact you look as if you’re about to keel over into your coffee,’ he continued dryly.

The fact that he was right irritated her anew. She was so tired now, she felt as if she was swaying on her seat, and, as Gideon had guessed, the feeling had nothing to do with the wine she had consumed! She’d been without sleep for almost forty-eight hours now, and the last six had, since meeting Gideon Byrne, been anything but restful!

‘I think I’m also capable of deciding when it’s time for me to go to bed,’ she told him stubbornly.

‘Are you?’ His expression was deliberately bland.

Once again Madison felt that overwhelming urge to hit him! But at the same time a wave of such exhaustion swept over her, she didn’t feel as if she had the strength to lift her hand…

‘Time to go,’ Gideon announced firmly, standing up to pull back her chair for her.

She looked up at him, unmoving, for several seconds and saw several other people looking in their direction. If she continued to just sit there, with Gideon pointedly waiting for her to stand up, all the other people at the table would eventually be staring at them!

Rather than have that happen, Madison stood up. At least, she attempted to. As she got to her feet her legs buckled beneath her, only Gideon’s arm about her waist stopping her from actually falling to the carpeted floor.

He kept that arm about her waist as he guided her out of the dining-room. Which was just as well, because she was falling asleep on her feet now.

‘You’re very kind—’

‘I told you, Madison,’ Gideon cut in huskily, ‘kindness isn’t in my nature. I got you out of there before you made an idiot of yourself for one reason, and one reason only,’ he added gratingly. ‘When I introduce you to the world as the star of my next film, I don’t want anyone remembering I had to carry you out of a room because you were drunk!’

But she wasn’t drunk!

And what did he mean, the star of his next film? He didn’t mean her! Did he…

Madison didn’t get a chance to ask him that question; exhaustion and the relaxing glasses of wine were finally taking their toll, and she fell asleep on Gideon’s shoulder…

He’d got her out of the room just in time, Gideon acknowledged grimly as he swung her up into his arms and began to ascend the winding staircase. Another couple of minutes, and—

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

Gideon glanced down to where Edgar stood in the large entrance hall, the older man scowling up at him darkly. ‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ he snapped impatiently.

‘That’s what I would like to know!’ Edgar followed him up the staircase, looking down at the sleeping Madison cradled in Gideon’s arms. ‘What have you done to her?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Edgar,’ he told the other man harshly. ‘At a guess, I would say she’s exhausted. And she weighs a lot more than she looks,’ he muttered grimly, ‘so tell me which bedroom is hers before I drop her!’

Gideon wasn’t about to do any such thing; Madison was a mere featherweight, despite what he had said, but Edgar’s accusing attitude was annoying him intensely. He was trying to help Madison avoid embarrassing herself, and Edgar was treating him as if he were about to ravish the unconscious woman!

‘This way,’ Edgar bit out coldly, leading the way down a hallway to a room right at the end.

‘I should have known it would be the furthest away!’ he rasped as Edgar pushed the door open for Gideon to precede him. Gideon laid Madison down gently on top of the bed before straightening to look at the older man. ‘Shall I undress her, or will you?’ he challenged provocatively.

An angry flush darkened Edgar’s cheeks. ‘I don’t think Madison would appreciate either of us doing that!’ He moved to cover her with the bedcovers.

Gideon found himself irritated by the tenderness with which Edgar removed Madison’s shoes, and tucked the cover under her chin and over her shoulders.

He had been impressed by the looks of the woman he had met down in the pool earlier, and even more impressed this evening when Madison continued to verbally fence with him. She’d even made him laugh a couple of times!

The way that Madison looked, the fragility of her, would be a perfect foil for the character of Rosemary. And the more he saw of Madison McGuire, the more convinced he became that she could play the part.

The main problem he had with that was Edgar. The other man had been so damned sure of himself last night when he’d spoken of Madison, so smug, that Gideon baulked at the idea of using someone Edgar had put forward.

But was that enough of a reason to reject, out of hand, the only real possibility he had seen for Rosemary in the last six months?

The answer to that had to be no!

He turned to look at Madison with narrowed eyes. She looked even younger when she was asleep, a baby innocence to her delicate features, her golden hair spread out on the pillow beneath her, the figure-hugging red dress that outlined her curves so lovingly, and so belied that youthful innocence, hidden from view under the bedspread.

And awake there was a fire in those amazing green eyes, a grit about her that refused to be cowed. By anybody. And Gideon had to admit he had given her a hard time this evening!

But she’d withstood it well, had given back as good as she got. Those were the inner qualities that needed to be brought to the character of Rosemary…

But he did not want Edgar, as the doting godfather, breathing down his neck when he worked!

‘She’s very beautiful, isn’t she?’

He turned sharply to the older man. ‘Very,’ he rasped.

‘And?’ Edgar arched questioning brows.

Gideon gave a sigh. ‘And nothing, Edgar. I see dozens of beautiful women every day; it doesn’t mean they can act worth a damn!’

Edgar stiffened. ‘Madison can act.’

He shrugged. ‘So you keep telling me.’

‘So you would know, if you would only—’

‘I’m my own man, Edgar.’ He cut in harshly on the other man’s forcefulness. ‘If you don’t like it, then maybe you got yourself the wrong director!’ He looked indignantly at the older man.

He could see anger warring with prudence inside Edgar as he tried to stop himself saying something he was going to regret. The fact that the older man did that at all was indicative of how much this meant to him.

Gideon glanced once again at the sleeping Madison. ‘Who is she, Edgar?’ He frowned heavily.

Was it his imagination, or did the older man look evasive, just for a brief moment? If he did, it was so fleeting it was barely there at all. But, even so, Gideon felt uneasy. There was something about his god-daughter Edgar wasn’t telling him…

‘You said she’s the daughter of an old friend of yours…?’ he prompted slowly.

‘That’s right,’ Edgar answered briskly. ‘Malcolm McGuire.’

Which meant precisely nothing to Gideon. Nevertheless, he still felt there was something Edgar was holding back…

‘Should I know him?’ he persisted.

Edgar shrugged. ‘I doubt it. He’s a businessman. Casinos,’ he added as Gideon continued to look at him with narrowed eyes.

Which was why the family was based in Nevada, Gideon realised.

His gaze returned to Madison as she lay innocently sleeping. There was something here that didn’t add up. He just didn’t know what it was! And it was a sure fact Edgar wasn’t going to be the one to tell him!

Gideon could feel it inside him; Madison McGuire was going to be trouble.

The question was, would she be worth that trouble…?

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