trouble with that theory around Gideon Byrne was that he didn’t seem to have a good impression of anyone, least of all her!
‘Only half human, hmm?’ He quirked mocking brows. ‘What do you think the other half of me is?’
He wouldn’t like it if she told him! ‘Eat your dinner, Gideon.’ She briskly repeated his own order.
He shook his head. ‘You remind me of a teacher I had at school. The Dragon, we used to call her!’
Much more of this and she would tell him what she mentally called him—and it was nowhere near as polite as The Dragon!
‘Did you go to school in England, Gideon?’ She lightly changed the subject, putting her knife and fork neatly on the plate as she gave up all hope of eating the smoked salmon. Her appetite hadn’t been that great once she realised Gideon was still here, anyway, but now that she was actually seated next to him…!
A shutter seemed to come down over his eyes, giving them that steely quality once again, while his mouth became a thin, straight line, his body no longer relaxed, but strained with tension.
She’d only asked if he’d gone to school in England, for goodness’ sake; she had thought that would be a safe subject for them to talk about. Obviously she’d thought wrong!
‘Why do you ask?’ he rasped suspiciously.
‘No reason,’ she shrugged, wondering what she could have said wrong this time; talking to this man was like walking across a minefield! ‘I was educated in the States, obviously, but, being an actor, your father probably worked mainly in America, so I just wondered—’
‘My parents separated when I was seven,’ Gideon put in harshly. ‘And I lived in England with my mother from that age, so yes, I was educated in England!’
His parents’ separation had been that particular minefield! Well, how was she supposed to know that? Gideon would already have been sixteen by the time she was born, and his father had been long dead before she’d become aware of his films.
John Byrne had been of the Steve McQueen, Dustin Hoffman era, but he had died young, in his thirties, having only made a dozen or so films before his death. Yet his brilliance on screen had been undoubted, his charisma electric.
But perhaps his parents’ separation, and the subsequent death of his father, explained why Gideon was so remote himself? It was a sad fact of life that if you didn’t love anyone, then you couldn’t be hurt by their loss.
Maybe if Madison had appreciated that earlier she wouldn’t have been so hurt by Gerry’s defection!
Although she could never see herself being as emotionally removed as Gideon Byrne.
‘What about your own family, Madison?’ Gideon cut in on her thoughts. ‘I’m interested in why it is you have an English godparent,’ he added dryly as she looked at him questioningly.
He might be ‘interested’, but that was a curiosity Madison didn’t intend satisfying. ‘An English godparent who spends a lot of his time in the States,’ she dismissed lightly. ‘And yes, I have family: my mother and father, and an older brother. They all live in Nevada.’
‘But not you,’ Gideon said thoughtfully.
‘Some of the time I do,’ she corrected him; she spent quite a lot of time at home ‘resting’! ‘But an invitation from Edgar is hard to refuse!’
‘So I’ve found,’ he acknowledged grimly.
On further acquaintance with this man she didn’t believe he could ever be forced into doing something he didn’t want to do; Edgar might have issued the invitation, but Gideon was here because he chose to be.
‘Mm, this looks delicious!’ She thankfully turned her attention to the main course that had now been placed in front of her. ‘I just love English roast beef with all the trimmings!’
‘Makes a change from burgers, hmm?’ Gideon taunted.
She hadn’t even tasted a burger until she was in her teens and out with her friends one evening. Her mother had always insisted on a healthy diet for her two children, with plenty of vegetables, chicken and fish, and after trying that one burger Madison had had to agree with her!
‘A struggling actress has to eat what she can afford,’ she returned noncommittally.
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
