Bound By Contract. Кэрол Мортимер
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!
‘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—’