Bound By Contract

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?’