Passionate Scandal

Madeline saw the measuring glint in his eyes, squealed when she correctly interpreted its vengeful meaning, and made a flailing dive for the side of the pool. She didn’t make it. Dominic caught her by the waist and lifted her up high above him, laughing at her helplessness as water streamed down her sun-browned skin.

Then he wasn’t laughing but looking, those piercing grey eyes of his warm on her body, taking in its new maturity, the unconscious sensuality in the way she arched away from him in an attempt to free herself, her breasts thrusting up and outwards, the hard press of her extended nipples clearly etched against the fine Lycra material of her suit, her head thrown back so her hair turned into a thick curtain of wet black silk which trailed in the water behind her.

He muttered something beneath his breath, and Madeline stopped struggling to glance questioningly at him.

It was then that she saw it—the change from teasing big brother to sexually stimulated male. His eyes were narrowed and his body tense. And slowly—slowly he lowered her down the length of him, letting her feel—and feeling for himself—the electric response as their wet bodies brushed enticingly against each other.

Their faces came level, and Madeline stared in blushing confusion at him. His mouth twisted, a self-mockery masking out the sensual awareness. Yet he did not immediately release her, Instead his hands went on an outrageous exploration of her body beneath the surface of the water. Breathlessly, she let him, her eyes fixed on his face as awareness began to pulse between them.

‘When did you get back?’ Vicky’s sleep-slurred voice broke into their absorption in each other, breaking them apart with an abruptness that was a message in itself. They glanced up to find her yawning lazily, completely unaware of the sudden tension fizzing in her pool. She blinked at her brother, then repeated the question, adding, ‘Daddy said you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.’

He turned away from Madeline, and instantly she dived below the surface of the water, swimming quickly away until she had put the full width of the pool between them, her senses in turmoil, a confusion over what had just happened making her feel peculiarly dizzy.

‘I finished quicker than I thought I would, so I caught an earlier flight home.’ He answered his sister levelly enough. ‘How are you, pug-face?’ he enquired teasingly as he levered himself out of the pool.

Suddenly and disturbingly aware of her own body, Madeline found that it took all her courage to make her climb out of the pool. And the fact that she was actually blushing made Dominic’s eyes glint mockingly at her as he watched her fumble with her towelling wrap while seemingly totally engrossed in a conversation with his sister.

‘Have dinner with me tonight,’ he murmured later under cover of Vicky’s light chatter.

Feeling shy for perhaps the very first time in her life, she shook her head, not at all sure she wanted to continue what had begun in the pool. ‘I don’t—’

‘Please.’ His hand curled about her wrist, stopping her mid-refusal. His touch acted like a bee-sting to her system and she gasped as the blood began to burn in her veins. Even Vicky had gone silent, watching with growing comprehension what was happening between her best friend and her big brother.

‘Dinner, that’s all,’ he repeated, then added in a soft-voiced challenge, ‘Where’s that spirit of adventure you’re so famous for?’

Well, it was dead now, thought the four-years-older Madeline. Killed by the hand that had once loved to feed it. Ruthlessly crushed by a man who took his revenge on a stupid impulsive child in a way which had instantly cured her of a lot of things. But most of all it had cured her of her silly belief that love conquered all. And she no longer believed in love at all now—not the all-consuming passionate kind, anyway.

CHAPTER THREE

MADELINE rang Vicky the next day.

‘You’re back!’ came the excited proclamation.

‘I think so,’ she murmured drily, ‘although I’m not certain all of me is here, if you know what I mean.’

‘Jet-lag,’ Vicky recognised. ‘Are you too tired to meet me today?’

‘Do you mean you may manage to fit me in?’ Madeline teased. ‘I believe you have certain—commitments which curtail your freedom these days.’

‘You’ve heard,’ Vicky grunted. ‘Who told you—Nina?’

‘My father, actually,’ Madeline corrected, unaware of the sudden tension on the other end of the line. ‘He’s rather proud of you, Vicky,’ she went on oblivious. ‘Said you’re making quite a name for yourself at the bank.’

‘Against all the odds,’ Vicky added drily, knowing Madeline was aware of how determined she had been to join the family bank—and how equally determined her father had been to keep her out of it. ‘It took me three years’ hard graft at the uni and a lot of rows before he caved in. But even he couldn’t turn a blind eye to the distinctions I got with my degree. I have been an official Stanton bank employee for just over a year now,’ she proudly announced. ‘Dom says I...’ Her voice trailed off, silent horror singing down the line between them.

Madeline sighed inwardly, seeing the irony in the way everyone seemed determined to skirt around all mention of Dominic Stanton while the man himself felt no qualms in making his presence more than felt! ‘Dom says—what?’ she prompted gently.

‘He—he says it’s my sexy behind that draws in the new accounts,’ Vicky mumbled uncomfortably.

‘Why, do you wriggle it at every potential client?’ Madeline asked, damning the odd tightness she felt in her chest when she visualised Dominic’s flashing grin as he issued that small tease to his sister.

‘Only at the male ones,’ Vicky chuckled, the tension easing out of her voice again. ‘What about Saturday night on the town if you don’t fancy making the trip into London today?’

‘No can do, I’m afraid.’ Madeline apologised. ‘I have a friend coming to stay.’

‘Perry Linburgh?’ Vicky quizzed.

‘How did you find that out so quickly?’ Madeline gasped, fine brows arching above wide-spaced eyes so darkly circled by thick black lashes.

‘With a grapevine like we have here?’ her friend scoffed. ‘I could probably describe him better than you could do yourself! A Linburgh, no less,’ she went on mockingly. ‘The name legends are made of. You do move in exclusive circles these days, Madeline.

‘Don’t I just?’ she agreed, then added on a burst of inspiration. ‘Hey—why don’t you come to lunch here on Sunday! You could meet Perry yourself then, and maybe give your honest opinion of the real thing rather than the legend!’

The suggestion met with utter silence. A sudden tension buzzing so strongly down the line that it was impossible to miss it, though she did not understand the reason for it.

‘I’m afraid I can’t do that,’ she heard Vicky say coolly.

‘Why?’ She frowned. ‘Got a date?’

There was another small silence, then, ‘Don’t you know, Madeline?’ Vicky asked curiously.

‘Know what?’ Her tone alone said she had no idea what Vicky was referring to.

The other girl sighed, muttered something not very ladylike which had Madeline’s eyebrows arching all over again, then lowering into an incredulous frown as Vicky curtly explained, ‘The Gilburns and the Stantons no longer acknowledge each other, dear,’ she was informed with a shivering derision. ‘They haven’t since you and my brother split up.’

Louise walked into the room just as Madeline was slowly replacing the telephone receiver.

‘Your young man, dear?’ she enquired.

‘No.’ Madeline was still frowning. ‘Vicky,’ she said grimly, then looked up at Louise. ‘Is it true?’ she demanded. ‘Have our two families been involved in a feud for the last four years?’

‘Oh, dear,’ Louise sighed and sat down next to Madeline on the sofa. ‘I wondered how soon you would find out.’

Horrified, Madeline jerked to her feet. ‘I can’t believe it!’ she exclaimed.

‘No, neither could I when it first began,’ Louise agreed. ‘Men are such children sometimes, Madeline!’ she sighed. ‘And I’ve been warning your father for weeks that he ought to put a stop to it before you came home. But he refuses to listen. He blames James Stanton for starting it—after Dominic, of course, that is—and I can only assume that James blames your father—after you. Am I being too honest, Madeline?’ she broke off to ask anxiously when she saw Madeline’s face grow steadily more distressed as she went on. ‘I have no wish to upset you with all of this, but it is a problem which has to be taken note of simply because you will sense it the moment we all get together in the same room.’

‘Oh, so you do actually move in the same company,’ Madeline scowled. ‘I suppose that has to mean something.’

‘Not much,’ Louise grunted. ‘We may attend the same things but we never acknowledge one another.’

‘Good grief!’ Madeline exploded. ‘But that’s positively—archaic!’

‘I entirely agree with you, dear.’ Louise nodded. ‘But it’s there and has to be faced. And I wouldn’t like you to make some terrible gaffe by speaking to the Stantons this Saturday night at the Lassiters’ only to find yourself cut dead where you stand.’

‘Y-you mean, they would actually do that?’ Her blue eyes widened in pained disbelief. ‘No wonder Vicky was so damned touchy whenever we mentioned family! My God,’ she breathed, utterly appalled by it all.

‘Your father felt sure you would be able to cope,’ Louise was looking pensive at Madeline’s paste-white face, ‘but if you don’t feel you can face it all just yet, Madeline, we would understand if you preferred not to attend...’