‘There is a w
ay,’ Dominic said quietly.
Slowly, Madeline replaced her coffee-cup. That tone was shiveringly familiar to her. Her father had used to use it when he was about to suggest something unpleasant. Dominic had too under similar circumstances. It usually accompanied the turning of their quick-calculating brains—and augured ill for all those involved.
‘Whatever you’re about to say,’ she drawled, ‘I’m sure I’m not going to like it.’
His smile acknowledged the point. ‘I think I can positively say that you’re going to hate it,’ he drily agreed, then took her entirely by surprise by standing up. ‘Come on,’ he said, taking hold of her hand. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
It was automatic that she stood up too. ‘But—where are we going?’ she demanded as he began drawing her towards the exit.
‘To my apartment,’ he announced, tightening his grip when she instantly pulled against it.
‘I’m going nowhere near your apartment with you!’ she protested.
‘Why? Too many fond memories there for you to stomach?’ he mocked.
‘Because I have my reputation to consider,’ she informed him coldly.
‘You never worried about silly things like that before.’
‘I was a besotted child then.’ They’d reached the curve on the upper landing where it joined the stairs before Madeline managed to pull him to a stop, tugging him around to see her anger. ‘I am not going to your apartment with you,’ she insisted on a driven whisper.
He stared at her flashing eyes for a moment, then simply turned without a word and began tugging her down the stairs.
‘Dominic—!’ Angry frustration almost made her stamp her foot, but then she remembered where she was, and with a tight firming of her mouth she slipped back into her cool shell. ‘I refuse to let you cause a scene,’ she informed him stonily, and let him lead her towards the exit.
‘I was relying on that,’ he said, glinting a mocking look at her flushed cheeks and gleaming eyes. ‘Although,’ he added ruefully as they reached the door where the maître d’ was already waiting, Madeline’s jacket at the ready, ‘you worried me for a moment there.’ Dominic took the jacket and slipped it around her shoulders. ‘I really thought the old Madeline was going to jump out from behind the cool façade of hers, and land me a slap on the face!’
Her cheeks heated at memories of an incident when she had done just that to him and slapped his arrogant cheek. He’d been teasing her mercilessly all evening about a lovely blonde creature he’d spied across the room, mocking, taunting, downright provoking about how he’d like to put his shoes under her bed, or some such equally inflammatory remark. Until, in the end, the lid had come off her temper, and she had taken a swing at him, catching him unawares so that the flat of her hand made stinging contact with the side of his face. He had gone very still. The room had gone silent, every face turned in their direction as they recognised another Madeline Gilburn scene on the way. Then, quite calmly, quite dispassionately he had slapped her back.
The shocked gasps had rustled around the room. Dominic had stood very casually in front of her, waiting for her next response, all hint of teasing gone from his face. The silence had begun to throb all around them, and you could have heard a pin drop as Madeline stood trembling, her wounded eyes slowly filling with tears. Her mouth had begun to quiver, her hand going up to cover the mark on her cheek where his fingers had stung her. And, without a single word, she had just turned away from him and walked out of the room, leaving him standing there.
He had caught her at the door, his fingers curling around her wrist and tugging her roughly around to face him. He had glowered at her reddened cheek, at the tears streaming unchecked down it, and on a husky groan had pulled her into his arms.
‘Forgive me,’ he’d said. That was all, but he had said it with such a wealth of urgent emotion that it had shaken her.
‘I’ll come,’ she told him quietly now.
Dominic frowned, surprised by her sudden climb-down. But then, she thought as they moved outside, he hadn’t been inside her head just then, remembering a moment when her love for him would have had her following him to the ends of the earth without question.
* * *
The Stanton town apartment was situated on the very top floor of the bank itself. It was a rather unattainable place, huge, big enough to accommodate a whole convention of Stantons if the need arose. But because of the necessary tight security around the bank itself the family rarely used it, preferring to stay at one of the good hotels if a stop-over was required.
Except for Dominic. He, being the penny-pinching banker he was, saw no sense in paying out for hotel rooms when they had a perfectly good apartment going to waste right here.
He drove them up to the rear gates and allowed the night guard to check them out before he could open the huge gates which led to the private car park.
‘Fort Knox,’ he murmured as they climbed out of the car and had to wait yet again for security to operate the locking system securing the rear doors. ‘Cold?’ he asked when she shivered. He touched his fingertips to her cheek, eyes almost black in the half-light of the security light.
Startled by the unexpected caress, she glanced up at him, their gazes locked once again, and fine threads of electric tension began swirling around them.
‘Madeline,’ he murmured huskily, ‘I…’
The doors swung inwards, bright fluorescent lighting flooding over them, cutting off whatever he had been about to say, and she experienced a profound sense of relief when he let it go, and instead guided her into the building, and straight into the waiting lift.
It took them swiftly upwards, ejecting them directly into the main foyer of the palatial apartment. Softly glowing table lamps greeted them, electronically switched on by the movement of the lift itself. Madeline allowed Dominic to guide her down the wide hallway to a door to the left which housed a room disturbingly familiar to her.