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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…?
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_b806b949-2a45-52ec-bae0-0fe376e0b8ee)
MADISON’S eyelids felt as if they were glued together, and even when she opened them the bright daylight seemed to hurt.
She lay on the bed looking at the window, totally disorientated, the curtains undrawn. Then she remembered—she was at Uncle Edgar’s country home. And she must have been so tired last night she had forgotten to pull the curtains before falling asleep. As she looked slowly around the room, and finally down at herself, she realised she was still wearing the red dress from last night too.
She must have been very tired not to have even—
Gideon Byrne!
The name exploded inside her head like a bomb, making her wince with the impact, as did the memory of this man. He had annoyed and taunted her last night to the point where she’d ended up turning her back on him as she ate. The last thing she remembered was feeling so tired, she felt as if she was going to fall asleep on her chair—
No—that wasn’t the last thing she remembered!
Gideon Byrne had helped her to her feet, his arm about her waist as he helped her from the dining-room. And—and—he had thought she was drunk!
Madison sat up abruptly as she remembered that accusation. She had drunk two or three glasses of wine, she accepted that, but—
She turned sharply as a brisk knock on the door preceded her uncle Edgar’s entrance into the bedroom, a tray in his hand, smiling at her as he placed the latter down on the bed beside her. Madison looked down blankly at the toast and orange juice. Breakfast! Uncle Edgar had brought her breakfast—when she felt as if consuming either the toast or juice would choke her.
‘It’s only a light snack because lunch is in two hours,’ he explained lightly as he sat on the end of her bed. ‘Did you sleep well?’
How should she know? She didn’t even remember falling asleep, let alone know if it had been restful! ‘I think so,’ she answered softly, eyeing him guardedly. Uncle Edgar didn’t look annoyed or anything like that; in fact, he looked rather pleased with himself, so she couldn’t have thoroughly disgraced herself last night. ‘What time is it?’ She took a sip of the orange juice, its sharpness not choking her as she had suspected but helping to wake her up.
Although if waking up meant she had to fence words with Gideon Byrne again she thought she would prefer to go back to sleep!
‘It’s eleven o’clock,’ Uncle Edgar answered her ruefully. ‘And don’t look so worried, Madison; he’s gone!’ He chuckled as if at a great joke as her eyes widened guiltily, absently picking up a piece of the toast and biting into it hungrily.
She swallowed hard. ‘I—’
‘Don’t try telling me you don’t know who I’m talking about.’ He shook his head in teasing reproval. ‘Gideon left here at eight o’clock this morning. But he left this for you.’ He held out an envelope.
Madison looked at it as the victim must look at the snake—just before the latter struck! What could Gideon Byrne possibly be writing to her about?
‘It’s his card.’ Uncle Edgar continued to munch on his toast, putting the envelope down on the bed as Madison made no effort to take it from him. ‘He wants you to ring him.’
She gasped. ‘He wants me to—! I have no intention of calling him.’ She gave a determined shake of her head.
If she never saw Gideon Byrne again it would be too soon. He might be a brilliant film director, but as a human being he was certainly wanting. And as a man—! As a man he exuded a lethal sensuality that was totally dispelled the moment he opened his cynical mouth! More than that, he made her feel uncomfortable. And she’d never thought of herself lacking in confidence until she’d encountered that man!
Edgar slowly put down his toast, his eyes narrowed now, his mouth unsmiling. ‘Don’t be an idiot, Madison,’ he grated. ‘Of course you’re going to call him.’
She sighed, shaking her head. ‘I dislike the man intensely,’ she said with feeling.
‘No one’s asking you to sleep with him—’
‘I should damn well hope not!’ Madison protested, her green eyes wide with indignation.
‘There’s a saying about protesting too much—but I won’t bore you with it at the moment,’ Edgar added quickly as angry colour darkened her cheeks. ‘If it makes you feel any better, Gideon assures me he isn’t into the casting couch routine himself,’ he added dismissively. ‘So— What is it now?’ He frowned as Madison muttered something.
‘I was just wondering when the two of you had this insightful conversation,’ she said incredulously, putting the tray down on the side table before getting up off the bed, glaring down disgustedly at her godfather.
‘After dinner a couple of days ago, actually,’ Edgar dismissed. ‘Now, look, Madison, don’t start being bull-headed with me about this. Gideon wants you to go in for a screen-test—’
‘Did you find that out from the card in the envelope too?’ she cut in accusingly. She didn’t care what Gideon wanted; she wasn’t here to be at his beck and call.
‘Not exactly,’ Edgar drawled.
‘Something else the two of you discussed at this insightful conversation after dinner?’ She was becoming so angry she was shaking with it.
It sounded to her as if Uncle Edgar and Gideon Byrne had discussed a hell of a lot more than Gideon’s method of casting his films, and on top of his remarks last night about how powerful her uncle Edgar was she didn’t particularly like the sound of that. In fact, she would be more than a little unhappy if it should turn out her godfather had been instrumental in Gideon Byrne’s offering her this screen-test…!
‘Don’t be difficult over this, Madison—’
‘I’m never difficult, Uncle Edgar,’ she cut in forcefully. ‘But I’m not stupid, either,’ she added heatedly. ‘If you have somehow used your influence to get Gideon Byrne to offer me a screen-test—’
‘You’ve met the man, Madison,’ Edgar interrupted derisively. ‘Did he strike you as someone who could be influenced?’
