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
