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Single Girl Abroad: Untameable Rogue
Kelly Hunter
Madeline Delacourte is having the time of her life in Singapore.Young, free and absolutely single. Rich-as-rich-can-be she wants for nothing, especially not an annoyingly complicated relationship…but doesn’t all work and no play make for a very dull girl? Fresh off the plane, Jianne Xang-Bennett wants a man, preferably a tall, dark stranger, to help her get out of an awkward fix! Or should Jianne be careful what she wishes for?Over Singapore Slings these two single girls are tempted to throw caution to the wind. Should someone remind them that holiday romances never last…or would that spoil all the fun? Perfect for fans of Sophie Kinsella and Carmen Reid




About the Author
Accidentally educated in the sciences, KELLY HUNTER has always had a weakness for fairytales, fantasy worlds and losing herself in a good book. Husband … yes. Children … two boys. Cooking and cleaning … sigh. Sports … no, not really—in spite of the best efforts of her family. Gardening … yes. Roses, of course. Kelly was born in Australia and has travelled extensively. Although she enjoys living and working in different parts of the world, she still calls Australia home.
Visit Kelly online at www.kellyhunter.net

Single Girl Abroad
Madeline
Jianne
Kelly Hunter


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Madeline
Kelly Hunter

CHAPTER ONE
MADELINE MERCY DELACOURTE quite liked looking at near-naked men. She had her favourites, of course. Smooth-skinned willowy young men were easy on the eye and heaven knew Singapore was full of them. Well-preserved older men could also command attention on occasion, although general consensus had it that they were far easier to admire when they kept their clothes on.
No, for Madeline’s money—and she had plenty of money—by far the most appealing type of near-naked man was the hardened warrior, complete with battle scars and formidable air. The ones who wore the gi—the loose martial arts robes—as if they’d been born to them. The ones who didn’t bother with shirts in Singapore’s sultry heat. Instead they let their glistening skin caress the air and please the eyes of those who knew where to find them.
Right now, as Madeline’s eyes adjusted to the dim interior of the shabby little dojo in the heart of Singapore’s Chinatown, she had the definite pleasure of happening upon not one shirtless warrior, but two.
The first was Jacob Bennett, a raven-haired steely-eyed Australian who’d found his way to Singapore around the same time Madeline had—over ten years ago now—and never left. They understood each other, she and Jacob. Survivors both, no questions asked. This was his dojo Madeline was standing in and if he had a softer side to his formidable façade, well, she’d never seen it. He’d scowl when he saw her. He always did. That was what came of asking a kind man one too many favours.
Madeline had never seen Jacob’s opponent before. Not in the dojo, not in Singapore. She’d have remembered if she had. He had an inch or so on Jacob when it came to height, but when it came to muscle mass and the way it wrapped around bone the men looked remarkably similar. Same cropped black hair and skin tone too. A brother perhaps, or a cousin, and certainly no stranger to the martial arts. He had Jacob’s measure, and that was saying something.
They had the long sticks out, the Shaolin staffs, and they fought with the grace of dancers and the ferocity of Singapore’s famous Merlion. Each man appeared intent on annihilating the other but where Jacob was ice, his opponent was fire. Less contained, thoroughly unpredictable. Reckless, even.
Reckless warriors were her favourite kind.
Jacob saw her and scowled. Madeline blew him a kiss.
‘Is that him?’ said the ragamuffin boy standing beside her.
‘That’s him.’
‘He doesn’t look pleased to see us.’
‘He’ll get over it.’
Jacob’s opponent must have heard them speaking or followed Jacob’s gaze, for he looked their way as well. Bad move. Moments later the unknown warrior landed flat on his back, swept off his feet by Jacob’s long stick. Madeline winced.
Jacob looked their way again and he really should have known better because the moment he took his eyes off his fallen opponent the warrior struck and Jacob too went down. A heartbeat later, each man had his hand wrapped around the other’s throat.
‘He looks busy,’ said the boy. ‘We should come back later.’
‘What? And miss all this?’ Besides, she figured the warriors were just about done. With a reassuring smile in the boy’s direction, Madeline sauntered over to the two men, the heel of her designer shoes satisfyingly staccato against the scarred wooden floor. She crouched beside the warring pair and poked the mystery man’s sweat-slicked shoulder with her fingernail, barely resisting the urge to trace a more lingering path. ‘Excuse me. So sorry to interrupt. Hello, Jacob. Got a minute?’
The mystery man had expressive amber-coloured eyes; the predominant expression in them at the moment being one of incredulity. But his grip on Jacob’s throat loosened and Jacob stopped sparring altogether and raised his hands in the universal gesture of surrender. Madeline smiled and offered the mystery warrior her hand, primarily to ensure he removed it from around Jacob’s neck. ‘Madeline Delacourte. Most people call me Maddy.’
‘Often they just call her mad,’ rasped Jacob.
‘Flatterer,’ said Madeline.
The warrior’s eyes lightened and he smiled a dangerously charming smile as he rolled away from Jacob and offered up a warm and calloused hand. ‘Luke Bennett.’
‘A brother?’ And at his nod, ‘Thought so. You fight very well. Tell me, Luke Bennett …’ she said as she withdrew her hand and rose from her crouching position. Both men followed suit and got to their feet, seemingly none the worse for the bruising. ‘Which one of you wins these fearsome little encounters? Or do you both pass out at around the same time?’
‘It varies,’ said Luke. ‘I can hold my breath for longer.’
‘Handy,’ murmured Madeline. He really did have the most amazing coloured eyes. ‘And Jacob’s advantage?’
‘Stubbornness.’ Those golden eyes took on a speculative light. ‘But then, you probably already know that about him.’
Madeline smiled non-committally. She was, after all, about to ask the stubborn man a favour. She dragged her gaze away from Luke Bennett and focused on Jacob instead. Jacob’s eyes were a bright piercing blue. It was like trading old gold for a slice of midday sky. ‘I hear you’re looking for a new apprentice.’
‘You heard wrong,’ said Jacob, his gaze sliding to Po, still hovering just inside the doorway. ‘Besides, the last one you found for me stole everything that wasn’t nailed down and most of the things that were.’
‘He gave it all back, didn’t he?’ countered Madeline. ‘And he became your best student and won an Asian championship or ten for you.’
‘Yeah,’ said Jacob dryly. ‘Right before the Hong Kong film industry came knocking and filled his brain with bright lights and tinsel.’
‘See? I knew you needed a new apprentice.’ Madeline bestowed upon him her most winning smile. ‘Hey, Po. Come and meet the sensei.’
Po headed towards them warily. Small boy, somewhere in his early teens as far as Madeline could tell. That particular piece of information had never come her way and neither had Po’s surname. For Po there was the street and his ability to survive on it, nothing more. It had taken Madeline six months to get the boy to even consider that there might be other lifestyle options open to him.
Jacob sighed heavily. ‘Why me?’ he muttered.
‘Because you’re a good man?’ offered Madeline helpfully. ‘Because if I put this one with anyone else he really will rob them blind?’
‘You could always put him back where you found him,’ offered Jacob. ‘You can’t save them all, Maddy.’
‘I know.’ But she could save some. And Jacob had been known to help her. ‘Po’s a pickpocket who works Orchid Road Central. He has a talent for annoying dangerous people. He needs to move on.’
‘Why am I not surprised?’ Jacob gave Po his full attention. ‘Do you even want to learn karate, kid?’
Po shrugged. ‘I want to live.’
‘Can’t argue with that,’ said Luke Bennett cheerfully.
‘You take him, then,’ said his brother.
‘Sorry.’ Luke’s lips curved unrepentantly and Madeline suddenly found herself ensnared by a man in a way she hadn’t been for years. Rapid heartbeat, a curling sensation deep in her belly, an irresistible urge to bask in the warmth of that lazy smile—the whole catastrophe. ‘You’re the upright citizen. I’m the homeless one with the specialised skill set. I’d only corrupt him.’
‘What exactly is it that you do?’ Madeline asked.
‘Mostly I examine sea mines and weaponry for the military.’
‘Mostly when they’re about to go boom,’ added Jacob dryly. ‘Life expectancy is a problem.’
‘What’s life without risk?’ countered Luke with a glance in her direction. Amber eyes could be warm, she discovered. As warm as a lazy smile.
‘I’m guessing that particular line of reasoning works for you a lot,’ she said. ‘I’m guessing you’re inclined to categorise women into two main groupings. Those who run screaming when you smile at them and say that. And those who don’t.’
Jacob guffawed, never mind that it landed him on the receiving end of a flat golden glare.
‘This way, kid,’ he said, still grinning as he turned and strode towards the far door. ‘I offer a room with a bed and a pillow, one set of linen, provisions for three square meals a day, and below minimum wage. In return I require loyalty, obedience, honour and dedication from you. If you’re not interested, feel free to go out the way you came in.’
Jacob didn’t turn to see whether Po had chosen to follow him. Jacob knew street kids. He knew the boy would follow, if only to see if there was anything worth stealing later.
Luke Bennett watched Po and his brother walk away, his expression a mixture of exasperation and reluctant pride. Madeline watched Luke. It wasn’t a hardship.
‘You do this to him often?’ he asked, turning and catching her examining him. She didn’t blush.
‘Often enough.’
‘Do they stay?’
‘Often enough.’
‘Are you in love with my brother?’
‘That’s a very personal question.’ Not one she felt inclined to answer. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Jake doesn’t let down his guard very often. He let it down for you.’
Madeline shook her head. ‘The outer perimeter, maybe.’ But Jacob Bennett’s heart was locked down tight and Madeline knew with blind feminine instinct that she didn’t hold the key to it. ‘What would you do if I said yes?’
‘Lament,’ he said. And on a more serious note, ‘I don’t poach.’
‘How very honourable of you. But then, I’d expect nothing less from a brother of Jacob’s. Tell him I had to be going.’
‘And my question?’
Madeline considered him thoughtfully, knowing the question for what it was. A declaration of interest, an invitation to play. She’d taken only one lover in the six years since William’s death. She’d still been grieving, and in retrospect she’d wanted the comfort that came of intimacy far more than she’d wanted her lover’s love. He’d wanted a woman he could honour and respect. It hadn’t turned out well.
What would Luke Bennett look for in a lover? she wondered. Passion? Passion hadn’t touched her in such a long time. Laughter? She could do somewhat better there. Honesty? She could give him that too, for what it was worth.
And then there was honour, and that she could not do.
‘How long are you staying in Singapore, Luke Bennett?’
‘A week.’
‘Not long.’
‘Long enough,’ he countered. ‘A person can pack a lot into a week if they try.’ He shot her a crooked smile. ‘You still haven’t answered my question.’
‘Only because I don’t want to. Consider it one of life’s little mysteries.’
‘I hate mysteries,’ he said. ‘Fair warning.’
Hard not to smile a little at that. ‘Enjoy your stay in Singapore, Luke Bennett. There’s plenty to entertain.’
‘There certainly is,’ he murmured.
‘There’s plenty of things you’d do well to avoid too.’ Fair warning. Smiling wryly, Madeline turned on her heel and let herself out.
‘So what’s the deal with you and Madeline Delacourte?’ Luke asked his brother as they resumed their battle with the Shaolin sticks some fifteen minutes later, this time with a watchful pickpocket for an audience. ‘You into her?’
‘Why the interest?’ asked Jake and followed through with a glancing blow to Luke’s side.
Luke stopped talking and started concentrating on his defence. But the image of Madeline Delacourte—she of the knowing smile, honey-blonde hair, and long shapely legs—just wouldn’t go away. ‘Why do you think? I’m not asking for a kidney here. All I want is a straight yes or no answer from one of you.’ He really didn’t think it was too much to ask.
‘No,’ said Jake, blocking Luke’s next blow. ‘She’s just a friend.’
‘Is she married?’
‘Not any more.’
‘Engaged?’
‘No.’
‘Attached?’
‘No.’ Jake’s stick caught him on the knuckles and damn near took his fingers off. ‘Madeline’s choosy. She can afford to be.’
‘She’s wealthy?’
‘Very. Her late husband’s family were British spice traders, back when the East opened up. They made a fortune and sank most of it into real estate. Maddy’s husband owned a string of shopping centres and hotels along Orchid Road and half the residential skyscrapers in southeast Singapore. Maddy owns them now.’
‘Her husband died young?’
‘Her husband died a happy old man.’
Luke winced. He didn’t like the picture Jake was painting. ‘Any kids?’
‘No.’ More blows reached him. ‘You’re not concentrating,’ said Jake.
‘I’m still coming to grips with the trophy-wife thing.’
‘Maybe she loved him.’
‘How much older was he?’
‘Thirty years,’ said Jake. ‘Give or take.’
Luke scowled and came in hard, peppering his brother with blows, his growing disillusion with Madeline Delacourte giving him a ferocious edge. The fighting ceased being a sparring exercise and became instead an outlet for emotion of the explosive kind as he went for Jake’s hands, the better to rid them of the long stick. Not a berserker, not quite, but a creature of instinct nonetheless and one Jake would have no peaceable defence against.
Cursing his lack of control, Luke grounded his staff and stepped back abruptly, breathing hard as he bowed to formalise the end of the session. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered, and headed for the stack of towels piled on a low wooden bench over by the wall.
Jake had walked towards Po and was speaking to him in the calm quiet way that Luke had always loved about his brother. The kid nodded once, warily, and hightailed it out of the dojo door. Jake turned his attention back to Luke after that. Luke looked away and towelled his face, not wanting to meet Jake’s condemning gaze, or, worse, his understanding one. Once a younger brother, always a younger brother, though he was not the youngest of the four boys in the family. Tristan carried that dubious honour.
By the time he’d finished roughing the towel over his shoulders and stomach, Jake stood beside him.
‘You want to tell me what that was all about?’ asked Jake quietly.
Ten rigorous years of living life in the explosive lane? Never settling down, never staying in one place for more than a few months? One too many dices with death? A volcanic recklessness that had been building and building and needed an outlet before it blew him apart? ‘I changed the rules on you halfway through the match and I shouldn’t have. I stopped. No one got hurt. What’s to tell?’
‘You let anger take hold,’ said Jake. ‘You lost your centre.’
He didn’t have a centre. He wasn’t even sure he had a soul any more after standing witness to so much death and destruction. And the thought that Madeline Delacourte, saviour of street urchins, had sold her soul for wealth ate at him like acid. Just once he’d wanted an angel of mercy to grace his life rather than the spectre of death.
‘How long since you last took a job?’ Jake asked next.
‘A few weeks back, give or take.’ Not that he minded. Better for everyone when he wasn’t working.
‘You right for money?’
‘Money’s fine.’ Luke’s line of work had paid remarkably well over the years. He wasn’t in Madeline Delacourte’s stratosphere by any means, but he had no monetary need to ever work again.
Jake opened his mouth and closed it again without speaking. His face took on a pained expression. ‘Blame your brothers,’ he murmured.
‘For what?’
‘This. You’re not in love, are you?’
Luke stared at him in astonishment. ‘What?’
‘No uncontrollable yearning to phone, visit, or possess one particular woman above all others?’ Jake asked warily.
‘No.’ Not unless he counted wanting to possess the sister of mercy who’d just sashayed out of Jake’s dojo without a backward glance. Which he didn’t.
‘This is a good thing,’ said Jake. And with his next breath, ‘So what the hell’s your problem?’
‘I don’t know.’ Something about this brother demanded honesty and always had. Luke gave it to him straight. ‘It’s just … walk in the shadow of violence long enough and it begins to claim you. I looked at Madeline Delacourte and saw beauty, not just of form but in deed as well. When your words painted her otherwise I saw red.’
Jake frowned as he towelled himself down. ‘There’s goodness in Maddy—ask any kid she’s dragged from the gutter. There’s beauty in the way she walks this city’s dark side without fear. As for marrying to secure a better life—maybe she did, maybe she didn’t—it’s none of my business. And it doesn’t make her a whore.’
Luke scowled. ‘It doesn’t exactly make her pure as the driven snow either.’
‘What do you care? An angelic woman would drive you insane within a week.’
‘Yes, but it’d be nice to know they exist.’
‘When I find one I’ll give you a call,’ said Jake dryly. ‘Meanwhile, I suggest you respect Madeline Delacourte for what she is. A smart and generous woman who doesn’t give a damn if she has more enemies amongst the upper echelons of society than friends. She does what they don’t. She pours truckloads of money into programmes designed to help the poor and displaced. She gets her hands dirty. And she doesn’t judge people according to past actions and find them wanting, the way you’ve just done.’
Luke scowled afresh. ‘Point taken.’ If Jake was willing to defend her, then she must be all right. Not an angel, just a mere mortal like everyone else. Angels were for fairy tales. He tossed his towel down on the bench. ‘I might stay on the floor a while.’ Work the forms, push his body hard and maybe, just maybe, bury his recklessness and his wrongful snap judgements beneath exhaustion.
Jake slid him a sideways glance, cool and assessing. ‘Fight me again,’ he offered. ‘Street rules, this time. No long sticks. No holding back. Just you and me.’
‘What if I hurt you?’ asked Luke gruffly, even as the beast within him roared its approval at Jake’s offer.
‘You won’t.’ Jake smiled gently. ‘But feel free to try.’
Jake had given Luke unspoken permission to work off his anger and during the fighting that followed he did, sending more and more his brother’s way until Jake faced the whole of it, drawing it from him effortlessly and shaping it into something harmless, something almost beautiful in its purity of intent. Fifteen minutes later, when they were both breathing hard and dripping sweat, Luke finally felt his tension start to ease.
Twenty minutes in, conspicuously on the losing end of this bout and grinning like a loon, Luke took the match to the floor and karate-with-intent turned to curse-and-laugh-filled wrestling. One last almighty elbow jab to Luke’s solar plexus and Jake had him licked.
‘You’d better be feeling better,’ said Jake, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he staggered to his feet. ‘Because I’m sure as hell feeling worse.’
Luke tried to sit up, groaned in pain, and thought the better of it. Flat on his back on the floor was just fine. Nice view of the ceiling from here. Jake’s conquering grin came into view first, then his hand. Luke batted it away. ‘Go away. I’m meditating.’
‘You? Meditate?’ Luke had never really mastered the finer points of meditation, and Jake knew it. ‘On what?’
‘Cobwebs. There’s one in your light fitting.’ Jake swore blue that meditation was simply a variation on the absolute focus Luke brought to the dismantling of bombs. Trouble was, Luke couldn’t bring that kind of focus to anything but unexploded weaponry. He certainly couldn’t wish it into being while contemplating his navel, even if his navel was a metaphor for life, the universe, and everything.
‘Cobweb meditation is good,’ murmured Jake. ‘Cobwebs can draw you to the centre of things and reveal hidden truths. Mind you, it’d help if you closed your eyes and stopped trying to incinerate your retinas while you’re at it.’
‘Always the perfectionist,’ muttered Luke, but he closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
‘What do you see?’ asked Jake.
‘The back of my eyelids.’
Jake sighed. ‘Focus.’
‘I know. I know. I’m on it,’ said Luke. ‘I’m moving my mind out into the flow.’
‘Good. What do you see?’
The face of a woman, bright against the darkness. Shoulder-length honey-blonde hair styled straight with a full fringe. Moss-green eyes flecked with brown and framed by sable lashes. A wide mobile mouth made for laughter and kissing. She would kiss very well; he knew it instinctively. She could make a man believe there was good in the world.
Madeline Delacourte.
Luke snapped his eyes open and sat up fast, never mind the pain coursing through his side or the thorn of desire lodged deep in whatever passed these days for his soul.
‘Anything?’ asked Jake.
Luke shook his head. ‘Nothing you want to know.’

CHAPTER TWO
MADELINE made a habit of following up on her rehomed street kids the day after she’d dropped them off at their new abode. Nimble-fingered Po had many survival strategies and scams in place, most of which would be calling for his attention right about now. If Jake could manage to keep Po around the dojo for the next forty-eight hours or so … if Jake could offer the boy something to work towards, something he wanted more than his old way of life … then Po had a chance at staying off the streets. That first step away from the old life was always the hardest, Maddy knew, but it could be done.
All Po needed was the right incentive.
Jacob was fronting a kick-boxing class when she walked into his dojo. He scowled when he saw her and jerked his head towards the back rooms, the half a dozen tiny rooms where guests and visiting students stayed, along with the occasional wayward boy.
She found Po in the kitchenette, kneeling on the round table, his attention firmly fixed on an odd assortment of kitchen appliances that had been placed dead centre of the round. Luke Bennett stood opposite Po, fully clothed this time, which was something of a disappointment, his voice a low rumble and his head bent as he too focused on the stuff on the table. Some sort of rolled-out cloth-bound toolkit lay between boy and man, only these particular tools weren’t like any other implements Maddy had ever seen.
‘Nearly done,’ Luke’s voice rolled over her, low and soothing. ‘Steady. Steady. Just a li-i-ttle bit more. Okay, Po. Now.’ Po’s hands moved quick and sure as he wielded a tiny pair of wire cutters over a mass of wires, Luke’s fingers just as nimble as he unwound a silver spring and shoved a piece of what looked like Blu-tack in its place. Moments later both boy and man leaned back, their grins wide and white. ‘You’ve got good hands, kid. I’ll give you that,’ said Luke.
Po beamed. Maddy stared.
‘Is that—’ she couldn’t believe her eyes ‘—a bomb?’
‘Of course not. What kind of question is that?’ Luke finally deemed fit to look her way, laughter lurking just around the corner. Maddy felt the force of that vivid amber gaze clear down to her toes. ‘It’s a makeshift detonation mechanism attached to a toaster.’
Maddy opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Where to begin?
‘Luke’s got it set up to burn toast unless we can disable the detonator in time,’ added Po.
‘And the wallet in the toaster?’ she asked acidly. ‘What does that do?’
Po suddenly found the cracked linoleum floor pattern fascinating. Madeline stifled a groan. ‘Po, who owns the wallet?’
‘Jake,’ said Luke. ‘Po liberated it from him this morning and I liberated it from Po. Po’s currently planning to put it back where he found it. He’d appreciate my silence on the issue. The main problem being that once I set the wallet to toasting, Po has approximately a minute to disable the detonator without jamming the toaster. Any longer than that and I’m pretty sure Jake’s going to notice the scorch marks.’
Still nowhere to begin. Anywhere would do.
‘Okay, debatable disciplinary measures aside, you don’t think it slightly unwise to be teaching a child how to build and dismantle a trigger mechanism for a bomb?’ She’d started the sentence with her voice low and controlled, the better to avoid shrieking by the time she got to the end.
‘Maybe under ordinary circumstances, yes, but look at it this way,’ said Luke, using that same soothing voice he’d used earlier. Unlike earlier, when she’d been reluctantly charmed, it made her want to strangle him. ‘Po’s a pickpocket. A career that values steady nerves and nimble hands is a natural progression for him.’
‘Exactly how,’ she said, with a generous dollop of sarcasm, ‘is a career in bomb disposal progression?’
‘Well, for one thing it’s legal.’
‘Did you mention how if you stuff up, you die?’
‘Happens I did,’ said Luke. ‘I’m all for full disclosure.’
‘There’s so much to admire about you, Luke Bennett. Pity about the rest.’
‘Oh, that’s harsh,’ he murmured without an ounce of repentance. ‘Sorry, kid,’ he said to Po. ‘Lesson cancelled. I suggest you think hard about whether or not you’re prepared to live by my brother’s rules because I’m telling you now, you won’t get a second chance with him. If it’s easy money you’re after, go back to picking pockets. Then when you grow up you can join the real thieves and be an investment banker.’ Luke slid Maddy a sideways glance. ‘Or you can always try the minimal-effort, time-honoured method of improving your lot in life and marry someone with money. Happens all the time.’
Maddy took the hit as she was meant to take it.
Personally.
‘Now I know why your brother enjoys beating the daylights out of you,’ she murmured.
‘Trying,’ corrected Luke helpfully. ‘He enjoys trying to beat the daylights out of me. There’s a difference.’
‘Po, will you excuse us for a moment, please?’ said Madeline.
‘Can I get the wallet first?’
‘Maybe later,’ said Luke. ‘And if you steal anything else of Jake’s I swear you’ll be cleaning the dojo floor with a toothbrush.’
Po grinned and disappeared.
‘Is your room locked?’ asked Madeline sweetly.
Luke cursed and headed for the door. ‘Stay here,’ he told her and pointed towards the table. ‘Guard that while I escort Po to a kick-boxing class.’
‘Ah, the masculine mind at work,’ murmured Maddy as he swept past her, all hard and determined male. ‘It’s a wondrous thing.’
‘It’d help a lot if you didn’t actually speak,’ he said.
She blew him a kiss instead. ‘Is that better?’
‘No.’
She smiled her commiseration.
Only when she was sure Luke Bennett was out of sight did Madeline give in to curiosity and turn her attention to the device on the table. Five minutes later she thought she had the simplicities of the detonation mechanism figured.
‘You should ask for permission before you start playing with a man’s toys,’ said a chocolate-smooth voice from behind her. ‘They might not be harmless.’
Luke. He of the steady hands, stupendous body, and small brain.
‘What would happen if I cut this wire here?’ she asked.
‘Nothing.’
‘What about this one?’
‘Cut that one and life gets interesting,’ he said. ‘Jake said you and he were just friends.’
‘Aw-w-w. You’re still concerned about poaching? Aren’t you sweet?’ Best to turn and face danger head on—the better to know when to run. Madeline hadn’t learned that in any fancy Swiss finishing school but the lesson had stood her in excellent stead over the years nonetheless. She braced herself as she turned her head to look at him in an attempt to lessen the impact of that clear golden gaze. ‘But Jake’s right. I consider him a friend. I’m glad to hear that he considers me one.’
‘You didn’t know that he thinks of you as a friend?’ asked Luke with the lift of an eyebrow.
‘Your brother’s not an easy man to read,’ she offered with a slight smile. Madeline pitied the woman who set her sights on Jacob Bennett, she really did. ‘He doles his smiles and his welcomes out sparingly. You, on the other hand, don’t.’
‘Is this a bad thing?’ The smile Luke bestowed on her held more than its share of wicked charm.
‘For you? No.’ For the women on the receiving end of those easy smiles, she thought it might be. Time to stop gazing at that arresting face and concentrate on something else, decided Madeline. Like the stretch of a grey T-shirt over a chest wide and muscled. Like the play of veins from his elbows to his wrists as he leaned in beside her, his forearms on the table and his attention on the toaster.
Luke’s shoulder brushed hers, ever so briefly, and ever so deliberately. No way did this man not know where every millimetre of his was at any given time. He turned his head towards her and his gaze skated over her face and came to rest on her mouth with a focus that made Madeline’s breath hitch somewhere in her throat and stay there.
Madeline’s gaze slid helplessly to the sensual curve of his lips. Passion abundant, yet underscored by a firmness that hinted at iron control when Luke wanted control. Laughter in the grooves around the edges of those lips.
‘Seen enough?’ he murmured, and she who never blushed felt warmth creep up her neck and along her cheeks.
‘I think so.’ Cursing his appeal and her blatant reaction to it, Madeline turned her attention back to the apparatus on the table. ‘Where were we?’
‘No idea,’ he said. ‘But I think we should get it over with. It’d speed things up and, seeing as I’m only here for a week …’
‘Get what over with?’
‘Our first kiss.’ They were side by side, shoulder to shoulder, as he picked up the tiny wire cutters and carefully turned the detonator over to reveal another half a dozen wires. ‘One of them will disable the detonator without jamming the toaster. Question is, which one?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You want to hazard a guess?’
‘Not particularly,’ she said. ‘I like to know what I’m doing—and why—before I do it. Take kissing you, for example.’
‘Good example,’ he said.
‘Happens I do know my way around a man’s mouth,’ she murmured. ‘Thing is, I’m not altogether sure why I’d want to kiss a man who despises me.’ She needed to see his face for this next question. She needed to think she wouldn’t get lost when she looked his way. ‘Is it the money you despise or the way I acquired it?’
‘Maybe you didn’t marry for money,’ he said, his eyes not leaving her face as he threw down his own question. ‘Maybe you loved your late husband.’
Maddy stared into those warm tiger eyes for a very long time, wishing her answer could have been different. Wishing she could have said yes, yes, she had. But the one thing Madeline had never been was a liar and she didn’t intend to start now, no matter how strong the temptation. ‘I married William Delacourte for security and for the lifestyle he could give me. He was a good man. I respected him and never cheated on him. But if you’re asking me whether I loved him when I married him the answer is no.’
Luke Bennett didn’t like that answer. She could see questions in his eyes—so many questions she didn’t know how to answer—and behind the questions, condemnation.
‘Did you sleep with him?’ he asked.
‘Have you been in love with every woman you’ve ever slept with?’ she answered coolly.
‘No,’ he answered, equally cool. ‘Did he know you didn’t love him?’
‘Yes.’
‘Poor bastard,’ murmured Luke. But he didn’t move away, and neither did she.
‘Any more questions?’ she said.
‘Yeah.’ Luke’s lips twisted into a wry smile as his eyes grew intent. He still had his elbows resting on the Formica table. So did Madeline. But their faces were close, close enough that it would only take the tilt of her head and a slight forward movement to make their mouths meet. ‘Are you sure you don’t want that kiss?’
‘Now why would I want to kiss you,’ she murmured, ‘when you don’t even like me?’
‘Beats me,’ he said. ‘Do it anyway.’
He had the knack of making Maddy want things she shouldn’t. Like lips against hers, firm and knowing. Like being cradled in the arms of a warrior who could make her see only the moment, and to hell with the life choices that surrounded it. How did one approach desire when they weren’t intending to exploit it? Maddy didn’t know.
She wanted to know.
With her elbows still firmly resting on the table, Madeline eased closer and set her mouth to Luke’s.
She didn’t rush to taste him, content for the moment with the feel of firm lips barely touching hers. Such fleeting contact. So blindingly perfect. Luke’s scent wrapped around her and the heat in him shuddered through her as she closed her eyes and touched the tip of her tongue to that firm upper lip the better to taste him.
He didn’t rush her. He simply let her play at exploring his lips, the shape and texture of them. A man of patience and timing, Luke Bennett, as finally, when she was just about to pull back, he turned his body towards her, and opened the way to deeper exploration. The slide of his tongue against hers, savouring and sensual. The hitch of his breath as she savoured him in turn. Then a ragged curse as his hand came up to sink into her hair and cradle the back of her head as he deepened the kiss.
Focused, so utterly focused on the moment and on her. Reckless with what he gave away. Passion to savour, passion to burn, as reality faded away beneath the radiance of this man making love to her mouth.
‘How old were you?’ Luke murmured as his lips finally left hers, rendering her bereft and craving more of him. More kisses, more contact, more pleasure. ‘How old were you when you married him, Maddy? Did you even know what you were giving up?’
‘Old enough.’ She kissed him one last time, slow and deep, craving oblivion. Wishing she could be what this man so obviously wanted her to be. Young. Naive. Innocent. But she’d never been any of those things, she’d never had the luxury, and he needed to know and accept that.
If he could.
Slowly, reluctantly, Madeline pulled out of the kiss and put some distance between them. The table for starters. And then the truth. ‘And, yes, I knew full well what I was doing when I forfeited love and passion for wealth and security. I’ve never regretted paying the price. I wish …’ How she wished she could have brought a bright and shiny past to this man’s table. But she couldn’t. Pointless to wish that things could have been different. ‘Never mind.’
Madeline watched in silence as Luke cursed and turned away.
‘I can’t,’ he said, and shook his head as if to clear it. ‘I don’t …’
‘Don’t what? Don’t even like me?’ She tried to make light of it. ‘I get that a lot.’
‘Don’t put words in my mouth.’ He sent her a searing golden glare. ‘I like you plenty.’
‘Maybe. But you wish to hell you didn’t,’ she added, and her smile was one she’d perfected over the years, cool and mocking, mocking them both. ‘I get that a lot too.’

CHAPTER THREE
LUKE didn’t try to argue against her second statement, and Maddy gave him points for honesty. She gave him more points for staying right where he was as he fought to bring the rawness of their encounter back into line with what was civilised and polite and socially acceptable.
‘Here’s the thing, Luke Bennett,’ she said softly. ‘You think you know what I am. Well, I know what you are, too. An adrenalin junkie; a man who’s come to terms with an early death in the service of others because what else is there? It’s in your eyes, in the way you move. You don’t care for life and you know nothing of love. It’s never claimed you. You ask for a kiss but you’d take a heart and never even notice what you’d done. So don’t you judge me, Luke Bennett, and I won’t judge you.’
That was twice now in as many days that Luke had been called to task for errors in judgement. He was trying to give Madeline the benefit of the doubt, heaven help him he was trying, but every time he thought he had a handle on her she showed him otherwise.
The information on Madeline Delacourte wasn’t all bad, certainly. There was his attraction to her—surely that had to count for something, for he wasn’t usually prone to wanting hard-hearted women. Easy-going and light on commitment, yes. Heartless, no. That Jake valued Madeline’s friendship counted for more. And then there was this huge gaping hole in Madeline’s conscience when it came to marrying for wealth, and that was the bit he couldn’t stomach.
‘Are we interrupting?’ said a voice from the doorway, and, with serious effort required on his part, Luke broke free of Maddy’s shuttered gaze and looked towards his brother. Jake stood there scowling at him and he wasn’t alone. Po stood beside Jake, his scowl equally well presented. ‘Because we can come back later,’ said Jake, heavy on the sarcasm.
‘We should stay,’ said Po to Jake in rapid Mandarin that Luke could only just follow. ‘If we go they’ll probably kill each other or something.’
‘I get that feeling too,’ said Jake.
‘Nice to see the two of you bonding so fast,’ said Madeline. ‘And just for the record, I wouldn’t have killed him.’
‘I probably wouldn’t have killed her either,’ muttered Luke.
‘The week is still young,’ said Jake dryly. ‘I recommend distance and denial, but since when has anyone ever listened to me? As for Po here, we’ve yet to decide if his staying on is an arrangement that will suit us. Come back tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow’s not good for me,’ said Madeline with a careless shrug. ‘It’s a distance and denial thing.’
‘Don’t mind me,’ said Luke. If Madeline could pull back from the earth-shattering kiss they’d just shared and put the carnage that had followed behind her, then so could he. ‘I won’t be around. Things to do.’
‘So that’s settled, then?’ Jacob’s gaze cut to Maddy. ‘Come by around midday and we’ll feed you.’
For some obscure reason that Luke really didn’t want to think about, tomorrow’s happy-family scenario didn’t sit well with him. He didn’t look at Madeline and he sure as hell didn’t look at Jake as he shouldered roughly past him and stepped out into the corridor. It wasn’t until Luke hit the street that he realised he had company. Po skipped alongside him, keeping up but only just. Minding his distance, but only so much. Luke stopped. So did Po, hanging back. Not afraid of him—at least Luke hoped he wasn’t—just cautious in the way of all half-wild things.
‘Did Jake get you to follow me?’
Po shot Luke a wary glance. ‘No.’
‘Then why are you here?’
‘I wanted out too. Needed to walk. Go get some stuff.’
‘What kind of stuff?’
‘My stuff.’ ‘Stolen?’
Po just looked at him.
Time to rephrase. ‘Stuff that’ll get you jailed if you’re caught with it?’
‘No. Some clothes, some Sing.’ Sing being Singapore dollars. ‘I won’t bring anything else.’
Luke really didn’t want to know what else the kid had that he wouldn’t be bringing. ‘Where do you have to go?’
‘Bugis Street.’
In years gone by, Old Bugis Street had been the traditional home of every vice known to man and then some. Redevelopment had sanitised the area but, like rats in a city sewer, you could never silence sin. ‘Maddy said you worked Orchid Road.’
‘Yeah, but I live on Bugis Street.’
Live. Not lived. Luke didn’t like the present-tense inference. ‘You know, kid? Po? If you’re even half serious about making a fresh start, going back to Bugis Street won’t help.’
Po just looked at him. Dark eyes in a pinched face and a body that was decades too small for the soul that resided within.
Luke didn’t want to get involved—he was only in Singapore for the week. But, ‘You need some company?’ was what he said.
‘Do you?’ said the boy, and fell into step beside him.
A couple of blocks went by in silence. Po clearly didn’t see the need for conversation. ‘How did you meet Madeline?’ Luke finally asked the kid.
‘She looked rich,’ said Po. ‘Her handbag was Prada and her shoes were Chanel—the real deal. So I marked her.’
‘You stole from her?’
‘Tried to,’ said Po. ‘But she knew all the moves. It was like she could see inside me. She asked me if I was hungry. When I said yes, she took me to a street stall and she knew the owner. She gave him five hundred Sing and told him to feed me for a month. He did.’
‘Did you stop picking pockets after that?’
‘I stopped trying to pick her pocket after that,’ said Po piously. ‘She’d come to the street stall every Monday. I used to sit with her sometimes.’
‘And after your month of free meals was up?’
‘It was never up. Grandfather Cheung said she’d paid for another month and that I could hang around in the shop overnight so long as I helped him get the shopfront ready for business the next morning. He has three grandsons but they don’t move fast. I do.’
‘Sounds like a sweet deal,’ said Luke. For a homeless child thief. ‘What went sour?’
‘Old man Cheung got sick and sold the shop. A couple of weeks later a street boss offered me a job I didn’t want to take. Maddy said it was time for me to move on and that she knew of a place.’
‘You trusted her?’
‘She said there was this sensei who took students and he was like this warrior monk or something. She said we could walk there and that I could leave any time.’
A monk, eh? Luke shook his head. Maybe there were some similarities between Jake’s dedication to martial arts and the celestial path a spiritual man might walk, but Jake a monk? Hardly. ‘So Jake takes you in on Madeline’s say-so, gives you food and a room and you steal his wallet? Where’s the sense in that?’
‘I wasn’t going to steal anything from his wallet. I just wanted to know what was in it.’
‘Why?’
‘So I could find out more about the sensei.’
‘How?’
‘From his cards and his receipts. From driver’s licence and the picture he keeps behind it.’
‘Jake keeps a picture behind his driver’s licence?’
‘Of a woman,’ said Po. ‘Could be Singlish. Chinese hair, western eyes.’
‘Ji,’ said Luke curtly. ‘Jake’s ex.’
‘Ex what?’
‘Wife.’
‘Monks have wives?’ said Po.
‘No.’ Jake didn’t deserve the responsibility that went with having a curious child thrust upon him, thought Luke grimly. He really didn’t.
It took them twenty minutes to get to where Po wanted to go, a set of garbage bins in an alleyway beside an all-night noodle bar. There was a drainage grate set into the wall behind the bins, big enough for a hand and elbow, but not a boy. Hell of a moneybox.
‘Can you keep watch?’ asked Po as he slipped behind the bins.
Curiosity over what might lie behind the grate warred with Luke’s need to protect the boy and his doings from the eyes of others. Every kid had a cupboard, he tried to reassure himself. This was Po’s. No need to know what else was in it apart from clothes and the money the boy wanted to retrieve. Trust was a two-way street and had to start somewhere, right?
Madeline had seen something in the boy worth rescuing.
Jake had trusted Madeline’s judgement enough to take Po in.
Judgement.
Madeline.
Po and his cupboard.
Cursing himself for a fool, Luke strode back to where the alleyway met the street and leaned against the wall, a bystander or a player, it didn’t matter. Just another tourist watching the show.
Ahead of him lay five more days in the vicinity of Madeline Delacourte.
Behind him lay a tiny thief with his hand up a drain.
Madeline didn’t linger long in Jacob’s presence after Luke and Po had disappeared. Long enough for a question or two from Jacob that she hadn’t wanted to answer, that was all.
‘You want to talk about what you’re doing to my brother, Maddy?’
‘No.’ Talk was overrated.
‘Do you need me to tell you that if you play him, and hurt him, we may not be able to remain friends?’
‘No.’ She already had that bit figured. She’d had a younger brother too. Once. She picked up her handbag. Jacob stood aside to let her pass. ‘I know the thickness of blood,’ she said quietly. And the fragility of friendship. ‘I wasn’t playing your brother for sport, Jacob. I wasn’t playing him at all.’
She didn’t know why she’d done what she’d done with Luke Bennett.
‘Maddy …’ Jacob’s gruff voice stopped her in the doorway. ‘Even if you’re not playing with him … don’t hurt him.’
Madeline smiled faintly. ‘You care about him a lot, don’t you?’
‘He’s my brother.’ Jacob ran his hand through already untidy hair. ‘I care for you too. As a friend, you understand. Not as a …’ Jacob appeared to be at a loss for words. ‘You know.’
‘I understand.’
‘Good,’ he said awkwardly. ‘Because I don’t want you getting hurt either.’
‘I understand.’
‘Good,’ he said again. ‘So that’s settled, then?’
‘Definitely.’
‘See you tomorrow.’
‘Can’t wait.’
Madeline stepped out of the dojo, hailed a taxi, and headed for the nearest gin and tonic, silently rueing the day she met her first Bennett brother and thanking her lucky stars there’d been a ten-year interim in which to get used to the breed before she’d met her second.
Jake took one look at his wallet sitting in the toaster and headed for the Scotch.

CHAPTER FOUR
MADELINE kept her lunch appointment with Jacob and Po the following day, never mind that staying away from the dojo while Luke was in residence seemed by far the better option. She had a burning need to help the runaways of the world find their way home, and if that wasn’t possible then she would find them a place where they could flourish and grow as children should grow. Strange as it seemed, Jacob’s dojo was such a haven.
Half-grown outcasts felt comfortable there. Madeline felt comfortable there, never mind that martial arts could be a brutal sport and Jacob had no mind to soften it. The dojo rules were fair and clear and utterly unbreakable.
If Po could abide by such rules, Jacob would see to it that the kid thrived.
Jacob and Po were working behind the counter today, Jacob on the computer with Po standing at his shoulder, watching intently.
‘He can’t read,’ said Jacob when he saw her. ‘He needs to be in school.’
‘No family information that Po’s willing to share with me, a fierce aversion to being logged into the system, no school,’ said Madeline in reply. ‘I figured housing came first and school could come later.’
‘A tutor, then,’ said Jacob.
‘That I can arrange.’ Madeline looked around casually. No Luke.
‘He’s not here,’ said Jacob without looking up from the screen.
‘Did I ask?’ said Madeline.
‘No, but you wanted to,’ said Jacob. Boy and man swapped amused glances.
So they were right. Madeline shot them a narrowed glare. That didn’t mean she had to admit they were right. ‘Yesterday, you mentioned lunch,’ she said. ‘I’ve got twenty minutes.’
‘Why so tight?’ asked Jacob. ‘Problems with the empire?’
‘Always.’ She’d inherited a crumbling empire, not a thriving one. Staying one step ahead of the creditors had taken ingenuity and time. Fortunately, she’d had plenty of both. Madeline could play the widowed trophy wife to perfection when it suited her, but anyone doing business with Delacourte knew differently. The Delacourte upstart didn’t leech off Delacourte enterprises, she ran them, along with a fair few charity institutions on the side. ‘A meeting with the accountant beckons.’
‘I’ve got leftover mee goreng, a microwave, and an apprentice who knows his way around a kitchen,’ said Jacob.
‘You want me to fix the food?’ said Po.
Jacob nodded and the boy slipped away, swift and silent.
‘Has he taken to karate?’ she asked.
Jacob nodded, eyeing her tailored black business suit with a frown. ‘Po moves fast, thinks fast, and he’s so used to living rough that anything I set him to do is a softness. He and Luke started on some karate forms at around midnight last night and finished around two a.m. He was up again at six. The kid’ll nap now in snatches throughout the day and snap awake the moment something moves, ready to either fight or run. Breaks your heart.’
‘He’ll settle, though, won’t he? Eventually?’
‘Maybe.’ Jacob ran a hand through his hair. ‘I don’t know. Luke’s got a better handle on him than I do. Maybe you should talk to Luke.’
Not quite what she had in mind. ‘Why? What does he say?’
‘He says he’ll stay another week unless a job comes up. And that he’ll keep an eye on Po while he’s here.’
‘And your brother can just do that? Change his plans on a whim?’
‘The man’s a free agent, Maddy. Would you think more of him if he couldn’t stay and help out for a while?’
‘I’m trying not to think of him at all,’ she muttered.
‘Is it working?’ said a silken voice from behind her. Madeline knew it was Luke, even before she turned to face him. Her body’s response to his nearness was very thorough.
He wore a faded grey T-shirt, loose-fitting jeans, and a look in his eye that told her that if she had any sense she’d turn and run and keep right on running. ‘Where’s Po?’ he said.
‘Kitchen,’ replied Jacob.
With a curt nod in Madeline’s direction, Luke left. Madeline made a concerted effort not to watch him go.
Jacob just looked at her and sighed.
‘What?’ she said defiantly.
‘Nothing,’ said Jacob. ‘Nothing I want to talk about at any rate.’
Amen.
Luke made himself conspicuously absent during lunch. Po showed Madeline the room Jake had given him afterwards—bare walls, bare bulb, a chest of drawers, a bed, white sheets and a thin grey coverlet. Jacob was a minimalist when it came to possessions but Po seemed overwhelmed by the space and the fixtures that had suddenly been deemed his. Madeline asked Po if he felt like staying on as Jacob’s apprentice. If she’d done the right thing in bringing him here.
Po nodded jerkily. Yes.
She’d seen a noodle bar across the street from the dojo that she thought she might try out next Monday lunchtime. She could use some company if Po felt inclined to stop by …
Another nod. System sorted.
Madeline left the dojo with five minutes to spare before the start of her next meeting. It would take her another ten minutes to get to the accounting firm’s offices so she was already running late, even before she spotted Luke Bennett leaning against a shopfront wall not two doors down from the dojo, idly seeming to watch the world go by.
While waiting for her to leave.
She walked towards him slowly, stopped in front of him. Neither of them spoke. But he looked at her and in that fierce heated glance lay a dialogue as old as time.
‘I wanted you to look this way and walk the other,’ he said finally. Had she been listening to his words alone she might have kept on walking, but those eyes and the tension in that hard, lean body of his told a different story.
‘No, you didn’t.’
‘I dreamed of you last night,’ he said next. Not the sweet murmurings of a soon-to-be lover, but cold, hard accusation.
‘Snap.’ She’d dreamed of him too, her sleeping time shattered by a golden-eyed warrior whose righteousness cut at her even as his kisses seduced. ‘Jacob said you and Po trained for half the night.’
‘We did.’ No need to guess why he’d chosen physical exertion over dreaming. He hadn’t wanted to dream of her. He couldn’t have said it any plainer. ‘I still think walking away from you is the smart option,’ he murmured.
‘Then do it.’
He glanced away, looked down the street as if planning where he would walk, but his body stayed right where it was. When he looked back at her the reckless challenge in his eyes burned a path through every defence she had in place. ‘No.’
Oh, boy.
‘Come out with me tonight,’ he said next.
‘Where?’ Was asking about a venue a tacit agreement? She thought it might be.
‘Anywhere,’ he muttered. ‘Do I look like I care?’
A shudder ripped through Madeline, two parts desire and one part dread for the wanton images that played out in her mind every time she looked at this man.
Luke’s eyes darkened. ‘You choose,’ he said. ‘Maybe you’ll care.’ Somewhere with people, if she had any sense at all. Somewhere crowded and casual. There were plenty such places in Singapore. She could easily suggest she meet him at one of them.
She didn’t.
Instead, she gave him her home address. ‘I’ll try and book us a table somewhere. I’ll be home by six. Ready to head out again by seven.’
He nodded, shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned his head back against the wall, everything about him casual except for his eyes. There was nothing casual about them at all. ‘You should go now,’ he said.
Madeline nodded and forced a step back before she did something monumentally stupid like setting her hands to his chest and her lips to his throat and to hell with empires and accountants. ‘Jacob knows my mobile number.’ Luke’s eyes narrowed, as if he either didn’t like that notion or he didn’t know where she was heading with this. ‘Call me if you decide to cancel.’
‘Do you really think I will?’
‘No.’ She offered up a tiny smile of farewell. ‘But I’m fairly certain you should.’
Madeline made it home just on six-thirty but instead of the fatigue that usually accompanied an afternoon spent wading through financial statements, nervous anticipation ruled her now. She didn’t make a habit of handing over her home address to men she’d just met. Even if Luke was Jake’s brother there’d been no call for that. But she had, and she’d wear it. Wear something. What on earth was she going to wear this evening?
A wizened old woman appeared in the foyer, her face leathered and lined but her old eyes clear and smiling. Yun had been William’s housekeeper for at least thirty years, maybe longer. Now she was Madeline’s and more grandmother than housekeeper if truth were told.
‘We’ve company coming at seven,’ said Madeline as she shed her light coat and slid a wall panel aside to reveal a cleverly concealed wardrobe. ‘Can we do some kind of canapés?’
‘What kind of company?’ asked Yun.
‘Male.’
‘How many?’
‘One.’
‘Nationality?’
‘Australian.’
‘Age?’ Yun could put foreign embassy officials to shame when it came to tailoring hospitality to fit circumstance.
‘My age.’
Yun’s immaculately pencilled eyebrows rose. ‘A business associate?’
‘No. Jacob Bennett’s brother. He’s taking me out to dinner.’
‘Where?’
Good question, for she’d yet to make a reservation. ‘I thought maybe somewhere touristy, down by the water.’ If they went to the wharves they wouldn’t even have to book in advance. They could just choose a place as they wandered along.
Yun’s eyes narrowed to slits. ‘Does he not know how to properly honour a woman of your social standing?’
Madeline stifled a grin. ‘You’d rather he took me somewhere intimate and expensive?’
‘Just expensive,’ said Yun.
‘I don’t think he’s the kind of man who cares much for the trappings of wealth or for impressing a woman with fine food and wine.’
‘Really?’ Yun seemed unimpressed. ‘What kind of man is he?’
‘Well …’ Apart from the kind who could make a woman abandon every ounce of common sense she’d ever had? ‘I don’t rightly know.’
‘When was he born? What’s his animal?’
‘I don’t know.’ Yun was old school. She practised feng shui, observed the Chinese zodiac, and honoured her ancestor spirits. ‘I’m going to go with Tiger.’
‘Tiger is unpredictable,’ murmured Yun. ‘And dangerous. Tiger and Snake not good together. Each can destroy the other if allowed to get too close.’
‘Thanks, Yun. I feel so much better now.’ Madeline had been born in the year of the snake. Nice to know in advance how incompatible she and Luke truly were.
‘Monkey is better fit for you. Even Ox. Find out his birth year.’
‘Will do. So can you do up a tray of something?’
‘Of course,’ said Yun. ‘Something for harmony and relaxation.’
‘Perfect.’ Madeline could use some harmony and relaxation, what with her incompatible love life and all. She started across the high-gloss white marble floor, only to whirl back around with a new question. ‘What should I wear?’
‘A dress shaped for beauty, a smile for serenity, and your antique jade hairpin,’ said Yun. ‘For luck.’
Luke Bennett was a punctual man, discovered Madeline as the state-of-the-art security cameras showed him summoning the private lift to the apartment block’s foyer area at five minutes to seven that evening. Madeline had taken Yun’s advice and wore a fitted deep-green dress that emphasised her assets and the green flecks in her eyes. Yun had helped wind her hair up into an elegant roll, secured with many hidden pins. The jade hairpin came last—with its five silver threads studded with tiny oyster pearls.
‘Stop fidgeting,’ said Yun, and prepared to open the door. ‘He’s just a man.’
‘Right.’ Just a man.
A man who wore dark grey dress trousers and a crisp white shirt with an ease she’d never expected of him. A man whose elegant clothes served only to emphasise the raw power and masculinity of the body beneath. His dark hair was tousled and his face could have launched a thousand fantasies and probably had. It was the eyes that did it—those magnificent tawny eyes.
‘You’re no Monkey,’ said Yun accusingly. ‘And you definitely no Ox.’
Luke Bennett stared down at the tiny woman whose head barely topped his elbow. ‘No,’ he said as his bemused and oddly helpless gaze cut to Madeline. ‘I’m not.’
A helpless Luke Bennett settled Madeline’s butterflies considerably. ‘Yun, this is Luke Bennett. Luke, meet Yun, my housekeeper.’
‘Could be Dragon but not so likely.’ Yun sighed sorrowfully. ‘I’ll bring out the antelope.’
Not a lot a man could say to a statement like that. Luke said nothing, just watched Yun disappear through a wide archway as she headed for the kitchen. Madeline summoned a hostess’s smile as Luke returned his gaze to her, seemingly oblivious to the wall full of museum-quality silk tapestries and the occasional priceless vase.
‘How’s Po?’ she asked.
‘Busy, I hope. Because when he’s not he’s prodigiously good at finding trouble.’
‘And your brother?’
‘Also busy.’
And that was the extent of Madeline’s small talk. Common ground extinguished. Dangerous new territory stretching out before them. She wondered if Luke knew what he was doing in pursuing the lightning attraction that sparked between them. Madeline certainly didn’t.
She’d always preferred not to play with lightning.
‘Would you like a drink?’ Madeline moved towards a high-topped bench in the corner. The bar was behind it, cleverly concealed by panelling that slid aside to reveal the drinks selection on hand. Hospitality was important in this part of the world and the subtleties of what was offered and how were endless. William had taught her that. Pity he hadn’t taught her what to offer a golden-eyed warrior who didn’t necessarily like her but who wanted her with an intensity that left her breathless. ‘Yun’s just gone to get a tray of nibbles for us.’
‘You didn’t have to go to any trouble,’ he murmured.
‘It wasn’t any trouble. Yun enjoys putting her culinary talents to use.’ Madeline offered up what she hoped was a serene smile. ‘She’s done every cooking course known to man, and she’ll scold me if I haven’t poured you a glass of something before she gets back.’
‘With the antelope.’
‘Let’s hope not.’ Madeline opened the bar fridge and peered at the contents. ‘What would you like?’
‘Just a beer.’
Madeline pulled a bottle of Tiger Bitter from the shelf and reached for the bottle opener. Pointless asking what year Luke had been born, really. His zodiac sign was a foregone conclusion. She retrieved a cold beer glass from the fridge and poured for him, before starting in on the fixings for a gin and tonic for herself. Staple fare in this part of the world—any time and anywhere.
‘So what brought you to Singapore?’ asked Luke as she found a lime and sliced into it with a paring knife. A quarter for his beer if he wanted one. Definitely a slice for her gin. And running alongside the busy work, small talk between strangers that should have been easy enough to answer but wasn’t.
‘I came here looking for my brother,’ she said finally. ‘He was travelling around South East Asia. Singapore had been his starting point, so it became mine as well.’
‘Did you find him?’
‘Eventually.’ Madeline had no inclination to explain her extended crawl through the dark belly of humanity in search of Remy. ‘He’s dead now.’ There’d been no saving him.
‘I’m sorry.’ Luke’s clear gaze rested thoughtfully on her. ‘Is that why you try and help children like Po?’
‘Maybe.’ Madeline shrugged. ‘Probably. I saw a lot of things in my search for my brother—a lot of things I would fix if I could.’
‘Is that why you married money? So you could fix the things you’d seen?’
‘Still judging me, Luke Bennett?’ Always, he seemed to circle back to the question of why she had married William.
‘No.’ And with a wry smile, ‘Maybe. Maybe I’m just trying to get to know you a little better.’
Maybe she could give him the benefit of the doubt. ‘My brother and I were orphans,’ she told him. ‘Wards of the State of New South Wales. Remy craved oblivion and found it. I craved security, stability, and wealth.’
‘And found it,’ said Luke.
Madeline nodded. ‘Yes. Does knowing my background make my choice of marriage partner any more palatable to you?’
‘I don’t know.’ Luke smiled bleakly and looked around the room.
Madeline looked too, trying to see her home through his eyes. An eclectic mix of the comfortable, the best, and a smattering of old and distinguished money in the form of sculptures and paintings. Madeline didn’t deliberately flaunt the Delacourte wealth at her disposal, but she did enjoy it. No apologies.
‘Nice place,’ he said.
‘Thank you.’ She studied him a while longer. ‘Money doesn’t mean much to you, does it?’
He shrugged. ‘I have enough. I’ve no need for more.’ His eyes grew dark as his gaze met hers. ‘You going to judge me wanting again, Maddy?’
‘Because you don’t crave wealth?’ she said lightly. ‘No. Each to their own.’
So different, she and Luke Bennett. Maybe even too different. The man was reckless, where Madeline craved control. Addicted to danger, whereas she was addicted to security. As for him being unaware of the impact he had on a woman when he exploded into her life … she hadn’t quite decided if he knew how truly potent he was or not. But judge him wanting? That she could not do. ‘We really don’t have much in common, do we?’ she said.
‘Not so far.’ Luke put his drink down carefully on the coaster she’d provided. He leaned forward, elbows on the bar, closer, and closer still, until his lips were almost upon hers. ‘But we might dig up something eventually,’ he murmured, and Madeline’s gaze dropped helplessly to his lips. ‘That’s what first dates are for.’
‘And second kisses?’ she whispered. ‘What are they for?’
‘They’re to see if we remembered the first kiss wrong.’ His lips brushed hers, slow and savouring before returning to offer up just that little bit more. Desire unfurled deep within her. She hadn’t remembered their first kiss wrong.
He pulled back slowly and drew his bottom lip into his mouth as if committing the taste of her to memory.
‘What are your feelings on standardising and enforcing international deep-sea-fishing quotas?’ he murmured.
‘I’m all for it,’ she said. ‘Although the enforcement bit could prove tricky.’
‘I agree,’ he said. ‘Common ground at last.’
Not to mention uncommon heat in their kisses.
Yun chose that moment to enter the room with a tray of bite-sized spring rolls and a chilli dip. Smiling wryly, Madeline pulled back and turned her attention to the diminutive housekeeper.
‘It’s plenty hot,’ warned Yun, with a sour sideways glance in Luke’s direction. ‘Fire is useful weapon against hunting Tiger. Bullets also,’ she muttered, and disappeared.
‘She’s very loyal,’ said Madeline.
‘Not quite the word I had in mind,’ murmured Luke, eyeing the finger food cautiously.
Madeline picked up a roll, dipped it into the dressing, popped it into her mouth and bit down through the flaky pastry to the mince mix beyond. So far, divine. But the bite of chilli was there, and growing ever stronger. It stopped short of a conflagration, but only just. ‘They’re very exciting,’ she said hoarsely. ‘You’ll probably enjoy them.’
‘What about the ones with the little squiggle on the side?’ asked Luke.
Not a squiggle, thought Madeline, looking closely at the spring rolls, but a snake. ‘Those are for me.’
He took one of those, dipped it in the sauce and made short work of it thereafter. ‘They’re good,’ he said, reaching for another, this time without the snake motif on the side. This one made him smile. ‘They’re very good.’
‘We should probably go soon,’ she offered weakly. She didn’t know what embarrassed her more: Yun’s dubious hospitality or her body’s extravagantly sensuous response to his recklessness. ‘I haven’t booked. I thought we might wander down towards—’
‘The wharves,’ he said.
‘Exactly.’ Plenty of water down by the wharves. She could use it to douse the flames.
The rows of restaurants surrounding the wharves shone crowded and cheerful, even if the food was hit and miss. Lights from the surrounding city shimmered in the background and found reflection in the inky harbour water.
Luke sat back in his chair once they’d ordered their meals and aimed for casual conversation, the kind a man might make in passing. Did Madeline enjoy living in Singapore? Yes, she did. Had she ever considered heading home to Australia? No, she hadn’t.
And then Madeline began to counter with questions of her own. Where was he based?
Nowhere of late, though he had an apartment in Darwin that he often returned to in between jobs. He didn’t need much. He didn’t have much.
Unlike some. She’d said that his lack of monetary focus didn’t bother her and heaven help him he believed her. The problem now lay in deciding if the disparity in their wealth was going to eat at him. When it came to a short-term relationship, the extent of Madeline’s wealth shouldn’t bother him at all. It was only when he started thinking long term that her wealth and his comparative lack of it became an issue.
‘What?’ she asked, more attuned to him than he wanted her to be.
‘What would you do if you woke up tomorrow and you’d lost all that Delacourte money your late husband left you?’ Not that he was thinking long term. No way.
‘Start again.’
‘Beginning with marriage to a rich man?’
‘Not necessarily,’ she said with a shrug. ‘I know a little something about the making and keeping of money these days. I’d probably try and make my own way.’
‘You’d fight to be wealthy again?’
Her eyes flashed green fire. ‘The Delacourte empire wasn’t in particularly good shape when William died. I sold the family estate, bought the apartment I live in now, and used the change to restructure the company. Big business can mean big losses. I fight to stay wealthy now.’
‘You like it,’ he said. ‘The fight.’
‘So do you,’ she countered. ‘When it comes to your work you’re all about challenge and danger and pitting yourself against the odds. Of course, when it comes to women, I’ve a very strong feeling that you’re not looking for a fight at all. You’re looking for perfection.’ She leaned forward, her eyes warm and ever so slightly mocking. ‘Sorry to disappoint.’
‘You don’t have to keep pointing out your flaws, Maddy. I can see them.’
She laughed at that, a rich vibrant chuckle that warmed an already sultry night.
‘How exactly did you end up doing what you do?’ she asked him, directing the conversation away from money and the making of it and back towards him. ‘I can’t imagine a school counsellor sitting you down to do a jobs test and saying that he thought you should diffuse bombs for a living.’
‘He didn’t. Though he did think a stint in the armed forces might not be such a bad thing should I ever wish to acquire some discipline. No, I followed my brother Pete into the Navy straight from school. Pete had his eyes on the sky, the Navy Seahawks. All I wanted to do was dive. After the training came the jobs, one of which was clearing sea mines. Then came retrieval of unexploded weaponry from various naval training grounds and I ended up as part of a three-man Explosive Ordnance Disposal Unit. Then some land-based work happened my way and I finished up with the Navy and went freelance. I still consult for them every now and again. I teach for them too, on occasion.’
Madeline smiled wryly. ‘Okay. I’ll admit it. I’m impressed,’ she said, and looked up as an immaculately dressed elderly Asian man paused on his way past their table. The rest of the man’s party moved on ahead.
‘Mr Yi,’ said Madeline, not quite concealing her surprise, though she made a creditable attempt at a polite smile.
‘Mrs Delacourte.’ The briefest of bows accompanied the statement, before the man’s gaze cut to Luke.
‘May I introduce Luke Bennett, my dining companion?’ said Madeline, responding to the unspoken cue, again with manners and caution rather than warmth. ‘Luke, may I present to you Bruce Yi, philanthropist and financier.’
Luke stood and shook hands with the man. Firm, slightly calloused grip, steady eye contact.
‘Any relation to Jacob?’ said the older man.
‘My brother.’
‘Ah.’ Hard to tell if Bruce Yi thought this was a good thing or not.
‘You know Jake?’ asked Luke.
‘I know of him,’ said Bruce. ‘Jianne Xang is my brother-in-law’s child. My niece.’
‘Ah.’ Awkward. ‘Give Ji my regards,’ said Luke quietly. He bore Ji no grudge. None of them did.
Okay, so maybe Jake bore her a tiny grudge for leaving after less than a year of marriage and taking his heart with her. Luke was still pretty sure that Jake would be the first to say that his expectations of marriage and of Ji had been too high. Had Jake ever actually talked about his ill-fated marriage to anyone, that was. Which he hadn’t.
‘Curious, don’t you think, that after all these years of separation neither Jacob nor Jianne has ever filed for a divorce?’ said the older man with the searching eyes.
‘I don’t pretend to know my brother’s mind,’ said Luke. Bruce Yi would have to look elsewhere for his answers. ‘And I certainly don’t claim to know Ji’s.’
‘One can never truly know the mind of another,’ said the older man. ‘Still, one can speculate, can they not?’
‘I’d rather not.’
Bruce Yi inclined his head and turned to Madeline. ‘My wife has a new exhibition previewing on Friday evening. A small gathering only.’
‘I’m sure Elena will put on a magnificent show,’ said Madeline. ‘She always does.’
‘I’ll add your name to the invitation list,’ said Bruce. ‘We’ll hope to see you there.’
Madeline smiled but made no comment.
‘You too, Mr Bennett.’
Madeline’s silence seemed well worth emulating.
‘Enjoy your meal,’ said the older man, and with a nod resumed his course towards the door.
‘Friend of yours?’ said Luke once he’d taken his seat.
‘No. One of Singapore’s banking elite.’ Madeline’s eyes were unhappy, her features tight with tension. ‘For the past six years, I’ve been consolidating Delacourte’s assets. Now I’m ready to grow them. I have a development proposal with Yi Enterprises that needs strong financial backing and very specific partnerships. Bruce Yi can make it happen. I thought his overture was business related. I thought it was an invitation, in typical Chinese fashion, to start dealing. It wasn’t. He’s using me to get to you. He’ll use you to get to Jacob.’
‘That’s quite an assumption,’ said Luke. ‘Given that until you introduced us he had no idea who I was.’
‘He knew,’ she said simply. ‘Maybe he noticed your resemblance to Jake and hazarded a guess, maybe he knew some other way, but he stopped by this table because of you, not me.’ She stared at him unhappily.
‘And his invitation?’
‘Should be viewed as an invitation to negotiate. I’m guessing that he wants Jianne’s divorce finalised.’
‘What’s the project?’ asked Luke. ‘The one you want Bruce Yi to finance?’
‘A Delacourte apartment-block build, our first major development in years, only this time we aim to incorporate onsite childcare, preschool, and early primary school facilities into the mix.’
‘It doesn’t sound risky to me.’
‘We also want to fit a high-grade air-filtering system that’ll give us a superior clean-air rating. They don’t come cheap.’
‘And you’ll adjust your prices accordingly. Still not seeing a problem,’ said Luke.
‘The problem is me,’ said Madeline bluntly. ‘More specifically, Bruce Yi’s perception of me. William was supposed to have had a stalwart first wife of good breeding who’d had the forethought to bear him children before being discarded. The bulk of the money would go to them. The problem being that William had no previous wife, children, or close family connections at all.’
‘So you’re the poster child for trophy wives,’ said Luke with a shrug. ‘So what?’
‘So Bruce Yi still sees me as an upstart who got lucky. He doesn’t see the businesswoman. He sees only what he wants to see.’
‘Then change his mind.’
‘How? By sacrificing you and Jacob to my ambition?’
‘No, by attending this art preview, showing Bruce Yi your stripes as a visionary developer tycoon, and letting Jake and I take care of ourselves.’
Madeline shook her head ruefully. ‘You don’t understand. Bruce Yi doesn’t need the Delacourte project. There are a dozen equally worthy proposals on his desk, all vying for his attention. He doesn’t need anything from me except access to you. He’s just made that very clear. And if I don’t bring you …’
‘Then bring me.’
‘He’s subtle.’
‘You’re annoying,’ countered Luke. Nothing but the truth. ‘Besides, I like a challenge. You said so yourself.’
‘It’ll be black tie.’
‘I’ll find one,’ he said.
‘I wouldn’t put it past Bruce to arrange for Ji to be there.’
‘And if you were trying to convince Jake to attend this function, that’d be the deal breaker. It’s not a deal breaker for me.’
‘I’d probably end up using you as a shield as well.’
‘A shield against what?’
‘Amorous intentions, mischief making, and the occasional dagger.’
‘Has anyone ever told you that you make a lot of waves?’
‘Frequently.’ And if the shadows that fell across Madeline’s eyes were any indication, it hadn’t been delivered as praise. ‘Forget it,’ she said as the waiters descended with the food. ‘You don’t have to come. It’s just a test.’
‘In my experience, when people don’t turn up for a test, they fail,’ said Luke quietly. ‘How about I put a mutually beneficial proposition to you?’
‘I’m listening,’ said Madeline, even if she wasn’t looking at him. Instead she watched the comings and goings of the boats on the water. It provided a welcome alternative to watching and wanting the man who sat opposite her. He cut straight to the heart of things, this man. Straight to the heart of her.
Everyone had thought Delacourte would be bankrupt within a year of William’s death, but Delacourte hadn’t gone bankrupt, and that was her doing. If Madeline had her way she would see Delacourte growing again. The question was … At what cost? ‘What did you have in mind?’
‘You accompany me to the art exhibition and help me find out what Yi is thinking when it comes to Jake’s affairs,’ he said. ‘If that puts you in a position to talk to him about your business initiatives, all the better. I don’t mind mixing Bennett personal business with your profitable one.’
She glanced his way again and braced hard against the impact of such beauty of face and clarity of thought. ‘Are you sure you’re not Chinese?’
‘No, but I do admire their ability to mix work and family business.’
‘It’s a skill that takes thousands of years of evolution,’ said Madeline dryly. But for the first time since Bruce Yi had stopped by their table, Madeline actually considered attending the show. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Just say yes, Maddy, then pack Bruce Yi away in a box in that very clever brain of yours until Friday.’
‘Because I don’t think you quite know what you’re in for.’
‘I get that a lot,’ he said drolly. ‘Occupational hazard. I’m still not hearing a “yes”.’
‘All right, yes, and don’t say I didn’t warn you. Now what?’
‘Now we go back to what we were doing before we were interrupted,’ said Luke way too smoothly for comfort.
‘Which was?’
The tiger smiled and sent a shaft of desire straight through her. ‘Why, Maddy, I do believe you were admiring me.’

CHAPTER FIVE
SOME men had a way about them. Luke Bennett’s way was nine tenths warrior, one tenth lazy suitor, and very nearly irresistible, decided Madeline as Luke paid for their meal and ushered her outside. He knew how to tease and he knew how to touch, his hand to the small of her back as he drew her closer to him to allow the passage of tourists walking the other way. Nothing proprietary about that touch, just a whole lot of warmth and protection that she missed when the pedestrians passed and his hand fell away.
They walked the waterfront and Madeline’s need for more of his touch grew, and with it her tension. The rogue knew that she wanted his hands on her but the tiger seemed to sense a trap and the warrior chose to wait.
And wait.
He waited until they stood outside the private lift that would take them to her penthouse, and when it came and she asked him if he wanted to come up, he shrugged and stepped inside. When the lift arrived at its top-floor destination he made no move to get out. Instead he leaned back against the mirror and shoved his hands in his pockets, drawing the fabric of his trousers tight against a part of him no lady would be caught staring at.
Luke caught Madeline staring, and smiled.
‘Would you like to come in for a coffee?’ she said.
‘It’s not a good idea.’
She was well aware of that. But it hadn’t stopped her asking.
‘I can only play the gentleman up to a point, Maddy,’ he said. ‘If I came in, I’d want to stay until morning, and I’m really not sure I want to know what your housekeeper would serve up for breakfast.’
‘If you’re looking for excuses to stay away from me, you forgot to mention William’s ghost and William’s fortune,’ she said.
Luke seared her with a glance. ‘I believe I’ve already mentioned them. I’m still trying to decide if I can work my way around them. Don’t push me, Maddy. Give me time.’
‘Hey, you’re the one who’s only here for a week,’ she murmured.
‘Two.’
She smiled wryly. ‘Sorry. Two.’
‘Sometimes an explosive situation takes a lot longer to assess than you originally thought it would,’ he said grimly. ‘Sometimes you have to circle around it a while until you know what’s going on.’
‘And here I thought you were the reckless type.’
‘Guess you were wrong,’ he said. ‘I’m trying to slow us down. You could try helping in that regard. Because God only knows where we’ll end up if you don’t.’ His eyes glittered with a darkly sensual promise. ‘You want to risk it?’
Suddenly, Luke’s refusal to come in for coffee and whatever else she might have offered him seemed like a very good move. Vacating the elevator before giving in to the primitive edge of desire that swirled around them seemed like an even better one. ‘No. You’re right. No coffee and give my regards to the boys.’ Madeline took a step back and put her finger to the control panel when the lift doors would have closed. ‘Do you still want to attend the art exhibition together on Friday?’
He nodded.
‘Okay, good. So I’ll just … go.’
‘Wait.’ That deadly soft voice stopped her; flowed over her. ‘You forgot something.’
‘What?’
‘Your goodnight kiss,’ said Luke grimly and hauled her into his arms as the lift doors began to close. Surely, he thought as her lips opened beneath his, soft and warm and willing. Surely he wouldn’t invite catastrophe with just one more little kiss.
And still her taste slammed through him, hot and wild and perfect. Still, his breath came hard and harsh and his body ached for just that little bit more when finally he released her.
‘Go.’
Turning, Madeline pressed the button and waited for the lift doors to open once more, while every muscle screamed at her to turn around and lose herself in the white-hot desire to be found in Luke Bennett’s arms. But he’d warned her not to unleash him, and it seemed a warning well worth heeding. For now.
She looked back as she stepped out—how could she not? He stood leaning against the back wall again, with his hands in his pockets, his head thrown back, and his eyes were as hungry as hell. Madeline looked down over him as the lift doors began to close, looked down to where a lady really shouldn’t look.
And smiled.
Friday came around quickly for Madeline. Bruce Yi had wasted no time in getting Elena to extend an invitation to the art exhibition; one invitation and two distinct names.
Bruce Yi’s request for more information on the South Singapore apartment project arrived half an hour after Madeline had emailed Elena an acceptance to the gallery show on her and Luke’s behalf.
Madeline had the information at her fingertips, all ready to go. She’d had it ready for weeks. Cursing, she stared at the folder and thought of the hope and ambitions it contained. Of the year of work that had already gone into visualising the project. Delacourte was ready for this project. She was ready, and it’d be so damned easy now that she had a card to play to simply play it, and get what she wanted out of the deal, and leave Jacob to fend for himself. Surely as the head of Delacourte Enterprises it was her job to be ruthless in the pursuit of profit? Luke had as good as told her to work Bruce Yi to her advantage and let Luke and Jacob take care of Bennett business. Surely Jacob could protect himself from Bruce Yi’s machinations?
Couldn’t he?
Damn, damn, and damn!
Madeline opened her desk drawer, shoved the file inside it, and slammed the drawer shut.
An empty desk now, and another stronger curse for good measure.
William had been the softest businessman in the world. He’d taught her many things during their time together, but ruthlessness hadn’t been one of them. Madeline had been left to discover ruthlessness by herself in the wake of William’s death. She’d had some tough decisions to make when it came to restructuring the company, what to keep and what to shed, but she’d made them, and worn them, and Delacourte had emerged the stronger for them.
Could she really abandon a ten-year friendship with one of the finest men she knew to the beast that was business?
A grim little smile twisted her lips. It would surprise no one if she did. She who’d married a soft touch for his money, buried him three years later, and never looked back. She who continued to play by rules no one else could fathom. The trophy wife who thought she had the wit to rebuild Delacourte. The woman who saw in a homeless street waif the spark of something pure and good and had known just the man who could take that spark and coax it into a strong and steady flame. The woman who loved the security that only extreme wealth could bring, but who nonetheless donated her annual wage to charity.
Delacourte made the money, paid Madeline and hundreds of others a wage, and Madeline gave her portion away. That was the way of it ever since William’s death and the why of it was unfathomable even to her.
The workings of such a system, however, depended entirely on putting Delacourte Enterprises first. Everything else flowed on from that. That much she did know.
She’d already sacrificed love to the altar of financial security. Why not friendship too?
Round and round her thoughts went as the afternoon wore on. First one way and then the other.
Round and round again.
At four-thirty, Madeline put her office phone to her ear and called the dojo in search of Luke. When he wasn’t around, she got his mobile number from Jake and called him direct.
‘There’s access to gallery parking at this show tonight. I thought I might take the car,’ she said when Luke answered his phone. No need to mention that a goodly portion of her reasoning for wanting to take the car was a heartfelt desire to stay out of elevators that had Luke in them. ‘So I’ll swing by the dojo and collect you around seven? How does that sound?’
Silence. Then, ‘Wrong,’ muttered Luke dejectedly. ‘So wrong in so many different ways.’
‘Luke Bennett,’ she scolded, thoroughly amused and not particularly surprised. ‘Is this a money thing?’
‘No, it’s a car thing. The money thing is only a peripheral problem in this particular instance. The boy acquires a car. The boy picks the girl up in his car. The girl is impressed by the lad’s ability to procure, drive, and run said car. The car is a metaphor for his ability to provide for her. That’s how it works.’
‘Quaint,’ she said, smiling into the phone. ‘What say I take your ability to provide all manner of things as read, and cut you a break seeing as you’re a stranger in a foreign land and pick you up at seven?’
‘What say I hire a car?’ he said a touch desperately.
‘Now why would you want to do that when I’ve a perfectly good vehicle sitting here practically unused?’ she said sweetly. ‘Would it help if I let you drive?’
‘No, that would merely add insult to injury.’
‘Whatever happened to equality of the sexes?’
‘The Bennett boys opted out. What kind of car is it? No, let me guess. It’s a pastel-coloured fuel-efficient compact.’
‘It’d serve you right if it was,’ said Madeline.
‘It’s not lime green with those smiley hubcaps that don’t turn round, is it? Because if it is, we’re walking.’
‘It’s a Mercedes convertible.’ Madeline wasn’t above a little teasing of her own. ‘SL class, twelve purring little cylinders. Lots and lots of buttons to play with. You’ll like it.’ A strangled sound happened along the phone line. ‘Luke Bennett, are you whimpering?’
‘Yes, but only because the tailor just found my inside leg with a pin. It has nothing whatsoever to do with the thought of being picked up from my brother’s house in that car by a woman whose wealth is vastly superior to my own. My ego is far more robust than that.’
‘Of course it is. So I’ll pick you up from the dojo at seven, then?’
‘Whatever,’ he said glumly.
‘What colour’s your suit?’
‘Black.’
‘Perfect.’ Madeline smirked. ‘You’ll match the car.’
‘Life is cruel,’ said Luke and hung up.
‘Just because a tiger purrs, doesn’t mean you have to pet it.’
Yun’s words of farewell rang in Madeline’s ears as she slid to a halt outside the dojo at seven that evening, ignoring the ‘no parking’ sign in favour of giving Po—who stood on sentry duty in the dojo doorway—a smile and a wave. Po smiled back and disappeared inside. Moments later Luke appeared and Madeline’s heart thumped hard before settling into an irregular rhythm.
He’d been Navy once, she remembered, and those boys knew how to suit up when occasion demanded it. No discomfort from this man about wearing formal evening wear—just another uniform in a long line of uniforms that would help to get the job done.
Po skipped alongside Luke, a small boy with wide eyes as he stared first at Madeline and then at the convertible as Luke slipped in beside her.
‘Jake said to tell you that if Luke’s not home by midnight he’ll think the worst,’ said Po with a grin. ‘He said you wouldn’t want him to be thinking the worst because then he’d have to bust Luke’s sorry arse.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Madeline.
‘Easy for you to say.’ Luke eyed Madeline darkly.
Po slipped back inside and Madeline eased out into the traffic with a discreet rumble. Luke studied her as she drove and she wondered what he saw. A nervous charlatan playing dress-ups or a confident woman who knew exactly who she was and what she wanted? Because when the Delacourte jewels went around her neck and the designer evening gown slid on, Madeline didn’t feel confident and empowered at all. Mostly, she just felt vulnerable.
‘Diamonds suit you,’ he said finally, and Madeline shot him an uncertain smile.
‘They belonged to William’s grandmother.’
‘They still suit you.’
‘I like your suit,’ she said.
‘It has its uses.’
One of which was to drive her insane with wanting to peel him out of it.
‘What do you know about Bruce Yi and his family?’ asked Luke next.
Solid ground. Finally. ‘Elena is Bruce’s first wife, which is something of a rarity for a man of his wealth and age. Elena’s family is practically Shanghai royalty. Bruce Yi’s lineage is equally impressive but Singapore based. Word has it that the marriage was an arranged one. Somewhere along the way it became a happy one.’
‘Any children?’
‘Two sons, our age. They work for their father. They work hard for him. No free rides there.’
‘Are the sons in relationships?’
‘Never for long. They play as hard as they work.’ Madeline thought back to the family relationships Bruce Yi had spoken of the other night. Of Ji being Elena’s brother’s child. ‘So Ji’s a Shanghai Xang?’
Luke nodded.
‘That’s serious wealth.’ Wealth enough to more than match the Delacourte family fortune. ‘How did Jake cope with that?’
‘You mean when he finally found out?’ said Luke dryly. ‘Not well.’
‘I can imagine,’ she murmured. ‘Was that the reason their marriage failed?’
Luke shrugged. ‘One of them, maybe. But there were other difficulties. Other responsibilities that Jake had to shoulder that got in the way of a marriage.’
Whatever they were, Luke didn’t offer them up. Instead he changed the subject. ‘You said you and your brother were wards of the state. When did that happen?’
‘My mother died when I was seven. My brother was four. My father drank himself to death a year or so later.’ She offered the information up as fact, no sympathy required, and no real expectation of Luke’s understanding.
There was no way to describe the desperation that came of growing up in the care of the state. No money, no permanent home, no control. She hadn’t even been able to keep Remy with her. Only what would fit into a carry case and the dreams she’d carried in her head. One day when I’m old enough … One day when I’m rich … One day when I’m loved …
Madeline lifted a hand from the steering wheel and lightly touched her necklace. That someone, anyone, could love her had come as such a shock. William’s innate kindness had simply sealed the deal.
‘It’s still there,’ said Luke gently. ‘The necklace.’
Silently, Madeline returned her hand to the wheel.
‘My mother died when I was thirteen,’ said Luke next in a rusty voice that bespoke a topic usually avoided. ‘My father’s still alive, but he wasn’t much of a father for a while. There were five of us kids, and we were luckier than you. We got to stay together. We had a house. We had a father in residence, at least on paper. Occasionally, he even remembered to pay the bills. And the four of us younger ones … we had Jake.’
‘I’m glad,’ she murmured, and drove in silence until they reached the skyscraper that housed the first-floor gallery. She drove down into the underground car park, took one look at the bank of lifts and parked by the stairs. The stairs would bring them out onto the street level. Glass doors would take them into the building, and an escalator would take them directly to the gallery door. Luke would doubtless enjoy a little Orchid Road sightseeing far more than he’d enjoy looking at the inside of yet another lift.
She couldn’t be alone in a lift with Luke Bennett right now. Not without reaching for him. Not without wanting him far more than she should.
Luke strode through the luxury marble-and-glass foyer without really admiring it. He liked having enough money that he would never go homeless or hungry. He didn’t see a whole lot of appeal in courting the kind of wealth that Madeline and the Yi family administered on a daily basis, no matter how sweet their rides.
He was here for his brother, and maybe—almost certainly—he was here because he couldn’t stay away from Madeline Delacourte, she of the unwieldy bank balance and gut-wrenching vulnerability. He’d seen the broken child in her eyes when she’d offered up her brief childhood history. He’d seen it in the uncertainty with which she wore those shiny stones. He got it now, he finally got an inkling of why wealth and power ruled her.
The homeless child demanded it.
That same child who hadn’t been able to walk past Po without doing something to help him.
The child tore at his heart. The woman the child had become had the capacity to steal it from him whole.
An art show.
Lord save him, this wasn’t his world.
‘Ready?’ she said lightly.
To fall in love with her? ‘Not in the slightest,’ he said as they stepped off the escalator and approached the door, where a weather-beaten little peacock of a man stood waiting beside a podium that might normally be used to display a menu but tonight held only a list of names.
‘Madeline Delacourte,’ the man said, with what looked to be genuine delight. ‘It’s my pleasure to see you out and about again. It’s been too long.’
‘Arthur,’ said Madeline in reply, and bestowed on him a polished smile. ‘You rogue. What are you doing here?’
‘My job,’ said Arthur. ‘You’re looking at Gallery One’s latest curator.’ The little rogue peacock put his palm to his chest. ‘Arthur,’ he said grandly, ‘has fallen on his feet.’
‘Congratulations,’ said Madeline, and turned towards Luke, as if conscious of having left him out of the conversation. ‘William was very fond of acquiring antique Chinese porcelain pieces. Arthur was very fond of finding them for him. The last piece Arthur found for him was a magnificent funeral vase which cost a small fortune, even by William’s standards.’
‘Ah, but it was a masterpiece,’ said Arthur. ‘Was it not?’
‘Indeed it was, and I have to say it came in very handy.’
Arthur blanched. ‘You didn’t.’
‘Oh, but I did,’ said Madeline with an amused smile, and sashayed through the sliding glass doors.
Sparing a searching glance for the shell-shocked doorman, Luke followed her into the gallery and played the part of companion and helped Madeline remove her lightweight wrap.
‘I take it William’s currently resting in the funeral vase,’ he murmured.
‘He was very fond of it,’ said Madeline. ‘It seemed the least I could do.’
‘You didn’t …?’ Luke knew a little something of Chinese funeral vases—most of it gleaned from his sister. He shook his head. ‘Never mind.’
‘Never mind what?’
‘Nothing. Except …’
Madeline waited expectantly for him to finish.
‘How did William die?’
‘It was very strange,’ she said. ‘He stepped out onto the road unexpectedly and got run over by a truck.’
Luke stepped back and handed Madeline her wrap. They made their way towards the first painting, a white circle on a black background, with a smaller black blob dead centre of the white circle, and bright red squiggles radiating from its centre. It looked like a drunkard’s eyeball and Luke would definitely not want to wake up to it every morning.
The price tag made him grin.
He tilted his head and studied the painting some more. No, not a drunkard’s eyeball. A dead man’s eyeball. ‘A truck, you say?’
‘Mmm.’ Madeline moved on to the next picture. More blobs, different colours, with a fork sticking out of the centre. ‘I’m really not seeing the symbolism,’ she murmured.
‘That’s okay.’ Luke was seeing more than enough symbolism for both of them. ‘So … William buys a funeral vase—’
‘Actually, I bought the funeral vase, even though William chose it. It was a birthday gift.’
Luke shuddered. ‘So you buy William a funeral vase … and then he gets run over by a truck and dies.’
Madeline turned to stare at him, amused incredulity writ plain on her face. ‘Luke Bennett, are you superstitious?’
‘No,’ he muttered darkly as a tiny, dark-haired matron dressed in sleek dove grey approached them. ‘Not precisely.’
‘Elena,’ said Madeline with a smile. ‘Always a pleasure.’
‘When Bruce told me he’d seen you out and about I rejoiced for you,’ said Elena, with what sounded like sincerity. ‘Six years is too long a time for a young widow to cloister herself away from society.’ The woman turned to Luke, her eyes sharp and assessing. ‘And you must be Luke.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Jianne said yours was the most beautiful family of warriors she’d ever seen. I’ve never met Jacob, but if he’s anything like you I think she must have spoken true.’ Elena’s gaze cut back to Madeline. ‘Is it true?’
‘I’ve only ever met Jacob and Luke,’ said Madeline. ‘So far it’s true.’
Elena sighed. Bruce Yi materialised beside his wife and greeted Madeline and Luke with warm cordiality. ‘What do you make of the paintings?’ he said.
‘We’ve only just begun to look at them,’ said Madeline smoothly.
‘Who knew an art show could be so enlightening?’ added Luke.
‘Bruce, why don’t you introduce Madeline to those project managers you wanted her to meet?’ said Elena. ‘Luke can stay here with me for a time.’
Divide and conquer. Luke knew the ploy well. He wasn’t the middle child of five for nothing. Madeline shot him a questioning glance. Luke gave a tiny nod of assent. Go, he told her silently. Go do business.
‘I tried to persuade Jianne to attend the reception this evening,’ said Elena as they strolled slowly towards the next painting. ‘She’s over from Shanghai and visiting with us at the moment. Alas, she had a prior engagement.’
Luke said nothing, just watched Madeline move off, with an innate elegance and dignity about her that he doubted she even knew she had.
‘She does send you her fondest regards,’ said the little raven.
‘She has mine,’ said Luke.
‘It could be that Jianne will choose to reside in Singapore permanently, soon.’
Now there was a comment to capture his attention. He wrenched his gaze away from Madeline and focused on what Elena Yi had to say. ‘Ji has business here?’ More to the point, would Singapore be big enough for both Jake and Ji?
‘Not exactly,’ said Elena as they moved on to view the next painting. ‘I rather suspect she’s moving away from something unpleasant, as opposed to actively moving towards something good.’
Luke smiled wryly. ‘She does that.’
Auntie’s eyes flashed. Luke didn’t give a damn.
‘My brother,’ said the little raven, ‘Jianne’s father, wishes to see his daughter remarried.’
‘To who?’ said Luke.
‘The only son of a business associate.’
‘So it’s a business merger?’
Elena nodded. ‘A very profitable one for both families.’
‘Are you asking Jake for a divorce on Jianne’s behalf?’
‘No,’ said Elena quietly as they stared at yet another painting. Two sets of circles within circles this time. Demon’s eyes. ‘I want him to save her from that monster.’
‘Mr Yi, before you introduce me to these people I need you to know something,’ said Madeline, knowing her next move for business suicide but knowing too that she’d made up her mind and would not relax until she’d spoken.
Bruce Yi looked at her but kept right on walking.
‘I have no influence over Luke Bennett or his brother so whatever you want from them, I can’t help you get it. Even if I could influence them to your advantage, I wouldn’t.’
‘Why not?’
Madeline smiled ruefully. ‘Because Jacob Bennett’s a friend. He’s also one of the finest men I know, and I’m sorry but I won’t let you use me to get to him.’
‘Not even to grow Delacourte?’
‘I’ll find another way to grow Delacourte. I like big business, Mr Yi. I’m usually quite good at it.’ Tonight, of course, being the exception.
This time Bruce Yi stopped. Madeline stopped too, and squared up to him, eye to eye. ‘I can’t help you,’ she said quietly.
‘Then why are you here?’
‘Because Luke wants to find out what you want. What Ji wants. From Jacob.’
‘Rest assured, Madeline. He will.’
Madeline glanced back at Luke and Elena, who looked deep in conversation, but even as Madeline looked away Luke glanced at her, those golden eyes dark and guarded.
‘My wife has more finesse in these matters than I do,’ said Bruce Yi. ‘Women generally have more patience with such things, although you certainly don’t seem to. You should have waited, Madeline. You should have waited to see whether Jacob Bennett’s needs coincided with those of the house of Yi.’
Yes, well. Too late now.
‘Honour is a rare and admirable quality in this world of changing values,’ continued Bruce Yi, he of the thin-lipped smile and the sharp, sharp eyes. ‘But I’ve always found it best when served with patience. Come.’ Bruce waylaid a passing waiter and moments later Madeline found herself with a champagne in hand. ‘I would have you meet my business partners. It will save time should we ever decide to do business together.’
Reprimanded and outmanoeuvred in one smooth stroke, Madeline sipped at her champagne. She learned fast when it came to the machinations of big business, but there was no denying that the head of the house of Yi had at least a thirty-year head start.
Time to lift her game.
Squaring her shoulders and summoning a smile, Madeline turned her mind to business.

CHAPTER SIX
‘HAD enough?’ asked Luke as he materialised by Madeline’s side some half an hour later.
‘More than enough.’ The paintings weren’t to her taste, Bruce Yi’s partners had grilled her to within an inch of incineration about her future business plans, the Delacourte diamonds hung heavy around her neck, and, above all, she was hungry.
They found their hosts and said their goodbyes. Elena looked pale and anxious. Luke looked grim. Madeline badly wanted to be outside where there was warmth and air, or back at the dojo where there was honesty and care. Not this. She didn’t like the strain inherent in this interaction, even if everyone was on their best behaviour.
Madeline unclasped her necklace and slipped off her earrings as they descended the escalator. ‘Got an inside pocket in that jacket of yours?’ she asked Luke.
Luke unbuttoned his jacket silently as she turned towards him. He did have one, and it even had a button to keep it closed. Fiddly thing.
‘You get the button, I’ll hold the rocks,’ he murmured, so she dumped them in his palm and set to work easing that stubborn little button through its buttonhole. The jacket felt warm to the touch, Luke’s formal white shirt—as the backs of her fingers brushed over it—felt even warmer. Plenty of heat inside this jacket. Plenty of hard and corded muscle beneath that fine white shirt.
They stepped off the escalator and stepped to one side of it while Luke slipped the jewellery in the pocket and Madeline buttoned it back up, before pressing his jacket closed and buttoning that up.
There. Those jewels were as safe as they were going to get, and for now, Madeline was free of their weight.
‘Care to tell me why the jewellery had to come off now?’ he murmured, watching her through guarded golden eyes.
‘There’s a tapas bar around the corner,’ she said. Misdirection being by far the better option than confessing how truly undeserving the Delacourte diamonds made her feel. ‘It’s not exactly classy but the food is good and the atmosphere’s relaxed and I need both of those elements right now. It’s not the place for diamonds.’ She tried a smile.
Luke didn’t return it.
‘Or we could head straight home if you’d rather get back and talk to Jacob. He’s probably waiting to hear from you. I’m sorry. I didn’t think—’
‘It’s okay,’ he muttered. ‘I haven’t said anything to Jake about meeting Bruce Yi. Yet. Jake’s big on inner harmony and peace. I figured I’d wait until I had something concrete to offer by way of information before I shattered the calm.’
‘Protective,’ she murmured.
‘When it comes to my family’s well-being, yes. You have a problem with that?’
‘No.’
The tapas bar was darkly sexy and deliberately intimate. Neckwear seemed optional, and, given that Maddy had already ditched hers, Luke loosened his tie and undid the buttons of his shirt collar so that a man might breathe in comfort. Madeline smiled wry approval at him as they found a couple of seats at the bar. Madeline took a perch. Luke elected to stand.
‘You wear black tie extremely well, don’t get me wrong,’ she said. ‘But you wear informality better.’
‘Says the woman who wears diamonds as if she were born to them and then ditches them the minute she can. Personally, I prefer you without,’ he countered. ‘Did you get what you wanted from Bruce Yi?’
‘I’ve no idea.’ The barman headed their way and they ordered drinks and tapas. The drinks came fast and the food order went in. ‘Did Elena say what Ji wanted of Jacob?’ Madeline asked him.
‘No, but she did say what she wanted of Jake. She seems to want him back in Ji’s life. Says it’s for Ji’s protection.’ Luke studied her intently. ‘How many months after you bought the vase did William die?’
‘A year or so,’ said Madeline, blinking at the rapid change of topic. ‘What is it with you and William’s funeral vase? I assure you, the funeral and the cremation—everything happened as it should. It’s not as if I torched him.’
‘Never mind,’ said Luke with a shake of his head as he took to his beer and drank deeply. ‘It’s nothing. I’m over it.’ Mostly. Could Madeline really have it in her to arrange her husband’s demise? He thought not. Definitely not. Probably just a coincidence, her purchase of a funeral vase …
Curators like Arthur sold antique funeral vases to wealthy collectors all the time.
And delivered them empty.
Tapas, champagne, and Luke Bennett’s company made for an easy combination, and Madeline let herself relax into the evening and bask in the warmth of those gleaming tiger eyes. He’d surprised Madeline tonight with his ability to move comfortably through Bruce Yi’s world of high finance and high-priced art but there was no mistaking that he was more at home here. So was she, truth being told. She’d never courted high society, for all that she’d experienced her fair share of it at William’s side. She’d never returned to it after his death.
An orphan’s sensitivity for knowing she would find little welcome there.
A woman’s dislike of moving through such a world unprotected.
She hadn’t been unprotected tonight. Bruce Yi, in the making of important introductions and staying on to guide the conversation, had extended his protection and made sure others noticed it.
And Luke, with his watchful warrior presence, had offered his.
It was enough to send a sensible woman’s thoughts tripping down roads they really shouldn’t go. A short-term light-hearted relationship was the only way to travel when it came to dealing with this man. To consider even that much was risky.
‘Tell me,’ she said lightly. ‘If you had a family of your own one day—a wife and children—would you still disarm weapons for a living?’
‘It’s what I do,’ he said. ‘What else would I do?’
‘I don’t know. Ship salvage work? Return to your deep-diving roots? Something safer.’
‘Neither of the occupations you just suggested are particularly safe, Maddy.’
‘Maybe not, but I really can’t see you in an office. I was extrapolating backwards just a step or two.’
‘Thanks,’ he said dryly. ‘The salvage work I could do. It just wouldn’t have quite the bite of what I do now.’
‘What do your siblings think about your choice of career and the dangers involved?’
‘You mean the brother who pilots air-sea rescue Seahawks or the one who runs black ops for Interpol? Or are you asking me what Jake thinks?’
Madeline wasn’t sure she wanted to know what any of them thought. ‘What does your sister think?’
‘She thinks we’re all guts and glory. She retaliated by marrying a computer whiz with brains instead.’ Luke’s grin came wide and wicked. ‘He does a little creative programming for Interpol on the side these days.’
‘Bet that went down a bomb.’
‘You have no idea,’ said Luke with a shudder. ‘Carnage.’
‘Are your other brothers married?’
Luke nodded. ‘And before you ask, Tris removed himself voluntarily from fieldwork and took a desk job once he got married but Pete still flies air-sea rescue missions. Pete had a habit of not phoning Serena the minute he set foot back on land. Serena broke that particular habit by getting her own helicopter licence so she could have better access to remote photographic locations. She accidentally lost radio contact one day when she went up alone. She was in a dead zone and she knew it, but she stuck around for a twilight shot and didn’t get home until well after dark.’
‘Simple yet effective,’ said Madeline. ‘I like it.’
‘Absolutely ruthless,’ said Luke. ‘The man was a wreck.’
‘And what do you do when the woman you’re with has trouble accepting your work?’ she asked.
‘Move on.’ His eyes grew shuttered. ‘Nothing else I can do.’
Except give up the work. A concept he clearly had trouble with. ‘Don’t you ever get sick of living so close to the edge of death?’ she asked quietly. ‘Don’t you ever look at a situation sometimes and wish you could just walk away and leave it to someone else?’
‘No,’ he said, but the shadows in his eyes told a deeper, darker story. ‘Not if I’m the best person for the job. I’m not in the phone book, Maddy. My name is on half a dozen lists worldwide. When someone contacts me it means that they need my particular skill set and they need it fast.
There’s no defence against that. I can’t just say, “Sorry, I don’t feel like working today.” I can’t.’
A warrior’s honour, soul deep and absolute. Duty-bound, forsaking all else.
Hard not to admire such a man.
Madness to love him.
He looked at her in silent enquiry. ‘Another drink?’
‘No, I’m driving.’
‘Ready to head home?’
‘I think I am,’ she said solemnly. ‘I can drop you on the way.’
But he shook his head. ‘That’s not how it works, Maddy. Not with me. I’ll see you home. I’ll see you to your door. And then I’ll find my own way back to Jake’s.’
Chivalry. Cousin to honour. She should have guessed he’d have his share of that too.
The trip home was largely silent after that, as if Luke sensed her withdrawal or her conflict, or both. They made it to the apartment car park and headed for the lift.
Last time in this lift, Luke had been the one to hold back.
This time she hoped to God she would be the one to walk away. They entered the lift and she stared at the ground. If she didn’t look at him, didn’t touch him, and didn’t talk to him, she’d probably be just fine.
The lift rose quickly and then slid to a halt. The doors slid open.
Time to end this madness.
Some sort of farewell comment seemed in order. ‘Goodbye, Luke. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you.’ She hoped she’d made it sound final enough.
‘You forgot something,’ he said.
‘No.’ She risked a glance and cursed her foolishness as warmth suffused her body. ‘No, I haven’t.’
‘Your diamonds,’ he said as he unbuttoned his jacket. ‘Unless you’d like me to send Po round with them tomorrow? Probably not a good idea, though.’
Oh. Right. The diamonds. The ones in his inside coat pocket. Madeline hesitated. Luke shook his head, his eyes dark and knowing. He shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to her whole. ‘I know you’ve decided not to see me again, Maddy. I can see it in your eyes. It’s okay. I’m used to it.’
‘All that honour,’ she said raggedly as she battled with the recalcitrant button and buttonhole. ‘Where did you get it?’
He shrugged and his lips tilted towards a wry smile. ‘Beats me.’
‘We wouldn’t be any good together, you and me.’ The button was stuck. The pocket stayed closed. Where was Po when you needed him? ‘We’re too different.’
‘Who are you trying to convince, Maddy? Me? Or yourself?’
She gave up on the button. ‘I mean, look at you.’ She made the mistake of doing just that and the need inside her soared. ‘You need a woman whose honour can equal your own. A woman with strength enough to let you go when you have to go and do what you need to do. I can’t even manage honour, let alone the strength I’d need to love you.’
‘Tell me something, Maddy,’ he said in that quiet, deadly voice. ‘Tonight, when you and Bruce Yi stopped to talk, just before you reached his business partners. What did you say to him?’
‘Not a lot.’
‘You told him you couldn’t guarantee my or Jake’s co-operation, didn’t you? And you elected out of the deal he was setting up.’
‘It didn’t feel right.’
‘You want to know why?’
Madeline shrugged. ‘An aversion to debt?’
A tiny shake of his head while his golden gaze kept her frozen to the spot. ‘Honour.’
‘It could have gone either way,’ she said raggedly. ‘If it was honour you thought you saw, then I almost abandoned it.’
‘But you didn’t. I don’t see weakness when I look at you,’ he said softly. ‘I see generosity and grace, and I see strength and survival.’ He came towards her then. He came to stand within an inch of her. ‘And I want it.’
The jacked slipped through suddenly nerveless fingers to land on the floor beside her.
‘Trouble is, you have to want me too,’ he said. ‘And seeing as you don’t—’
She didn’t let him finish. Instead she found his mouth with her own, frantic need ruling her as she took what she wanted and drank deeply of this man. All that devastating integrity wrapped within a reckless smile … she wanted it all and to hell with tomorrow.
Luke knew only one response to attack, be it sensual or otherwise. Counter-attack, using whatever weapons he had at hand. He didn’t seek to quell Madeline’s need for his kisses, he grew it until her breath came in gasps between open-mouthed kisses and her hands were buried in his hair. His hands roved where they would. One hand cradling her head and the other at her back, gathering her close, snaking down her spine.
The sweet curve of her buttocks deserved two hands, but by then she’d entwined her arms around his neck and his lips were at her throat, passion riding them both hard as he lifted her up and she wound her legs around his waist.
Her back met the wall, the handrail providing a tiny ledge on which to balance her while her fingers worked frantically to undo the buttons of his shirt and he hiked her dress up to her waist. Luke’s shirt came off, he damn near ripped it off in his effort to accommodate her.
‘This isn’t going to work,’ she whispered, and then her hands were at his chest, and her lips were at his throat and he surrendered completely to his desperate need for more. ‘Not in the long run.’
‘I’m hearing you. I’m agreeing with you.’ He edged her panties aside and showed her exactly where he wanted in. ‘Damned if I know what to do with you.’
There, right there, thought Madeline with a whimper, and his touch was slow and sure and devastatingly effective. She moved on him then, onto his hand, with the fleshy base of his thumb to her nub and his finger easing inside her.
The woman she glimpsed in the side mirror was an abandoned stranger, her eyes glazed, her lips swollen, and her hair in disarray as she rocked slowly back and forth against the hand of a man she’d met less than a week ago.
Dark edged and warrior savage, Luke took her hand and dragged it down and over his trousers. So hard and huge as she shaped her hand around him and followed his long length down to the source and back to where belt met buckle and head nestled beneath. She managed to get the belt undone, and then the button and zip, which gave her all the access she needed as he claimed her mouth again.
There was no finesse in him as he lifted her high and brought her down onto him and held her tight. Madeline gasped and buried her face in his shoulder as she adjusted to his possession.
Tight. She was so warm and tight. One arm at her back and one in her hair as need pushed Luke further and harder into her, too far in thrall to be a gentleman. Too far gone to care that they were in an elevator. And then she bit down hard on the cord of his neck, not gentle but ravenous, and the wildness he carried deep down inside him rose up and finally broke free.
Raw power and desperation, as she matched him need for need.
White heat and exaltation as she cried out her release.
Red haze and incantation as he rode her hard and exploded deep inside her.
That they’d remained upright when they’d lost their minds seemed something of a miracle to Luke. That Madeline still clung to him seemed even more of a miracle. He put his forehead to hers, breathing hard as he closed his eyes and tried to remember how they’d come to this.
‘Maddy,’ he murmured, when he had the words for speech. ‘Maddy, I’m sorr—’
‘Don’t,’ she said, and covered his mouth with trembling fingers. Her lips replaced her fingers, softer still and even more vulnerable. ‘Don’t be.’
So he kissed her again, as gently as he could, and even then the bite of hunger raised its head and threatened to overpower him.
He pulled out of the kiss, and put his lips to her temple instead.
He looked in the mirror at what he’d done and closed his eyes, not ready to face the truth of it.
‘I wish …’ What did he wish? That the last five minutes hadn’t happened? No, he didn’t wish that. ‘I should have taken better care of you.’ He shouldn’t have lost control.
‘I’ve no complaints.’ He tasted the truth in her words. He opened his eyes to find her watching him solemnly.
‘None,’ she said with a shrug. ‘I wanted this. Wanted you, in spite of all those very good reasons to stay away from you. I may not know where all this is heading, but I’m big girl enough to take plenty of responsibility for how we got here.’
Even as Madeline finished her speech, body parts rippled and twitched. Madeline’s lashes came down to cover her eyes and she caught at her swollen lower lip with her teeth.
‘Aftershock?’ he murmured, in that dark knowing voice.
‘Mmm.’
‘More?’
‘Please.’
Madeline whimpered as her legs closed vicelike around him and she ground down hard. A not so gentle thrust, the brush of his thumb, and she tilted her head back, and came for him again.
Hot colour stained her cheeks when finally she deigned to open her eyes.
‘Would you like me to kiss it better?’ he murmured silkily. ‘Because, trust me, all you have to do is ask.’
Inner muscles jumped for him again and Luke hardened, feeling invincible. Half a dozen slow and rocking strokes, an open-mouthed kiss that imprinted itself somewhere in the vicinity of his heart, and he came deep inside her again.
Madeline emerged from Luke’s latest possession boneless, and damn near mindless. By some miracle they were still standing, but Luke’s chest heaved with the effort of drawing breath and he stood shoulder slumped to the mirrored wall in what she suspected was a valiant attempt not to crush her.

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