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…
‘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
