Risking It All: London Calling Book Three (19 page)

“Roses?”

God no, that was the last impression he wanted to give.
 

“No. Nice but friendly.” Not romantic.

“Consider it done, Mr. Payne.”

He nearly hung up, but then said, “Lilies. Make them tiger and calla lilies. Burnt orange, like autumn leaves.”

Like her hair. Feeling slightly silly, he ended the call.

He hoped she liked them.

***

Back in London, Madeleine made sure she had an unobstructed view of the hotel’s front entrance while sitting in one of the kingfisher blue chairs at the bar. Sitting up high, she swung her leg, which did very little to burn off the frantic energy spilling out of her.

Desperately, she longed for the safety and security of Chicago. Dominic’s penthouse had become a haven for her in a very short time. The other people who lived in the building were discreet, never stared, and at least pretended they didn’t know about her.

She ordered a cocktail, hoping it would calm her nerves a little. She’d been strung tight enough to snap ever since opening her door at the hotel back in Jersey. A porter stood there, holding an enormous bouquet of lilies. Dyed a dark shade of russet, the calla lilies reminded her of death and funerals. Coupled with bright tiger lilies, they were a horrific match for the daily bouquets she used to receive when her stalker was free. Somehow, Sebastian Payne learned the details of her attacker’s actions and mimicked them to make a point.

As a threat, it was viciously effective.

She shuddered, the leather creaking beneath her as she nervously tapped her foot against the bar. She hadn’t opened the accompanying envelope. Rather, she ordered the hotel employee to immediately take it away and throw it all in the trash.
 

Catching the bartender’s eye, she realized her thumping foot was annoying him. She swiveled so she could rest her feet on the brass rail near the floor while keeping an eye out for anyone coming through the front doors.

Several people noticed her in the quiet confines of the area. Careful to avoid eye contact, she sipped her drink. There had been a time in her life when the bar’s cream brick walls with white ceramic subway tiles would have enticed her to stay. Light and airy while remaining cozy, the style of Dominic’s hotel screamed sophisticated class.
 

Now, she only wished to return to Chicago. But first, she needed to tell Dominic what happened on Jersey. She hadn’t learned much, but with the verbal warning followed by his sinister gift, she knew Sebastian Payne was dangerous. Hopefully, she could convince Dominic to steer clear of him.

The doors opened, admitting a tall, golden-haired man with arresting good looks. Madeleine started to rise, but he saw her first and froze inside the thickly bricked archway leading into the bar.

“
Moneypenny
?”
 

She smiled nervously, jumping down from her perch. Taking Dominic’s arm, she led him to a quiet corner of the room. “Don’t make a scene. I need to talk to you.” She looked around and saw other patrons staring openly. “Privately.”

He patted her hand, which was still clenched on his bicep. “No problem. Let’s get a couple of drinks, and then we can go upstairs. Is that all right?”

He was speaking slowly, using a tone she imagined horse whisperers were required to perfect. One by one, she forced herself to loosen her fingers. Free of her vice-like grip, he tucked her arm into his.

“Okay,” she said.
 

Switching his attention to the avidly eavesdropping barman, he ordered, “Let’s have two more of whatever she’s drinking.”

He turned back to Madeleine, flashing his trademark grin with devastating ease. She swore she heard two women sitting nearby gasp. “What
are
you drinking, by the way?” he asked.

“I have no idea. The hotel special. I think there’s gin in it.”

He grimaced, but didn’t stop the bartender from mixing the drinks. He did request one adjustment. “Can you put mine in a rocks glass instead?”
 

The bartender nodded and poured one concoction into a coupe and the other in a short tumbler. With a flourish, he laid down fresh square napkins and set the drinks on each. Dominic took both in hand, along with the paper coasters.

“We’ll have these upstairs. Can you bill them to my room? It’s 503.”

The employee took down the details, assuring them it was no trouble. Plopping a ten pound sterling note on the bar, Dominic lifted his chin, indicating Madeleine to follow.
 

They walked to the elevators where an attendant silently escorted them upstairs then followed to help open the room. Impressed, Madeleine told Dominic so as soon as they were alone.

“Nice place. Super service. She didn’t even have to ask what room you were in.”

He set their drinks on a low table in front of two wing chairs by some windows. Dominic flipped a switch and patterned jacquard drapes opened to allow sunlight to filter through closed, gauzy panels.

He sprawled into his seat, waving a hand at the other. “Please sit.”

Madeleine sat.

He puffed out his cheeks on a long exhale. “I can only imagine what it took out of you to come here. What’s the emergency?”

Faced with his concern, Madeleine began babbling, her words a mile a minute. “I’m sorry. I know it’s going to put you in a terrible position, but I can’t. I can’t do it. I’m out. I’ll figure out some way to repay you. Or I can sell the penthouse, turn over the proceeds.” Breathing hard, she came to a halt when he raised his hand.

“Stop. Take a breath.” He picked up her drink and handed it to her. “Cool off. And when you’ve taken a second, start at the beginning.” He took a sip of his own cocktail with a slight wince.

Unlike him, she drank deeply, and then set the glass down to start over. Bracing her hands on the arm of her chair, she willed herself to calm down. “I went to Jersey, as you asked,” she began. “I couldn’t find out much to be honest. But one day, he caught me watching him and confronted me.”

Dominic set his own glass back down while searching her face. “What happened? Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head. “No, but he issued a warning. Or at least it seemed like it, but I couldn’t be sure. He told me to stay away from him.
For my own good
. Those were the words he used.”

A muscle bunched in Dominic’s jaw, but he urged her to continue.
 

“When he caught me out, it was a little amusing in a warped way. I’m so used to being paranoid someone might recognize and follow me, it took me off guard when he accused me of the same.” She laughed, but it sounded hollow even to her own ears. “Anyway, he wasn’t laughing with me.” She swallowed. “I honestly wasn’t sure how to take it, so I stayed another day, thinking I’d try to get closer to his house. It’s gated with a really long driveway going in,” she explained. “But before I could leave my hotel, a porter arrived with a
gift
. Dozens of tiger and calla lilies, all a dark shade of orange.” At Dominic’s puzzled look, she went on, her voice flat. “Nearly identical to the flowers my stalker used to send before he tried to kill me.”

Dominic reared back in his chair.
 

“He must have found out somehow. I thought those details were sealed, but somehow he knew.”

Dominic placed his hand over his mouth while she talked. Lowering it, he said, “Dear God, Madeleine. I had no idea.”

“You didn’t?”
 

“No. I knew something drove you away from modeling and acting. But I thought it just became too much, the attention and crowds. I assumed you had a breakdown, seeing there were so many hospital bills.” He paused. “That’s not what happened, is it?”

She swallowed. “No. Most of the hospital bills were for my father. He was shot and nearly killed trying to protect me. He still needs a high level of care and physical therapy.”

 
“How did you keep all this quiet? You were famous. The Girl Next Door, everyone called you. America’s Sweetheart.”

“We didn’t. My attacker came from a wealthy family. The trial was closed and they smothered a lot, but it was still public record.” She rubbed her eyes. “I never gave any interviews. Unable to bear being out in public, I became reclusive. But the biggest reason people forgot about it was horrible fate. My attack came on the same day as a national tragedy, a mass shooting on the East Coast. My story, thank God, was quickly overshadowed and forgotten.” She breathed in. “As it should have been.”

Dominic drained his glass. “I’m so sorry, Madeleine.”

“It’s not your fault. But you have to understand why I can’t work for you anymore. You need someone else.” Her knuckles were white on the armrests of her chair. “Somehow Sebastian Payne found out everything about me. And I’m too scared for this fight.” She felt her chin quiver, so she clenched her teeth on the final words. “I’m out.”

Dominic leaned forward in his chair to take her hand in his. “Of course. I should never have asked this of you. I’m truly sorry, Madeleine.”
 

She jerked her chin up and down, accepting his apology but unable to speak. Knowing there was more to say, she stiffened her spine. “You need to be careful, Dominic. No matter the reason for it, you have to stop looking into Sebastian Payne. He’s not a nice man.” She reached into her purse to extract a business card. “Here. He dropped this at the restaurant.”
 

Dominic took it from her, his brows lowered in concentration.
 

“I recognized the business name.”
 

He snapped his head up to listen.
 

“Back when I was still modeling, they used to recruit girls for private shoots. There were rumors. I have no idea what business Sebastian Payne has with them, if any. He didn’t strike me as the perverted type, if you know what I mean.” She tapped the card in his hand. Echoing her earlier words, she said, “But that is not a nice company.”

“Thank you, Madeleine. You’ve done more than enough.” He eased her from her seat. “Let’s go downstairs, get you a room. You’re practically dead on your feet. You can stay inside today, order room service and anything else you want. Tomorrow, you’re going back to Chicago. I want you to rest. When you’ve taken as much time as you need, I hope you’ll consider staying on.” He continued before she could protest. “I promise I will never put you in harm’s way again. You can remain at home, doing all your work from the penthouse. I’ll hire a butler to take care of errands and other odd jobs.”

No way could she allow that, yet speaking the words to reject his offer was beyond her. Awkward and jerky, she stood and shook his hand, the one already holding her own.
 

He took her arm and threaded it gently through his.

“Let’s go downstairs.”

CHAPTER TEN

B
ENNETT
WAS
LATE
. Not in the mood to wait around, Dominic located a heavy bag and went to work punching the hell out of it. About twenty minutes in, he noticed his friend and new business partner standing behind it, bracing it so it wouldn’t swing out of control from its heavy chain.
 

Heaving air and dripping sweat, Dominic stopped for a second.
 

“You okay there?”

Bennett nodded. “Sure. But you might want to put on these.” He reached down and tossed Dominic the pair of boxing gloves that were lying at his feet.

 
Dominic let them fall back to the mat. “I’m fine.”

“Your decision, mate.”

It certainly was. He wasn’t here to talk or shoot the breeze with Bennett. He was here to beat something into submission. The bag was a better alternative than Bennett’s face, although he still owed the other man a good thrashing. The bruises purpling his bare fists kept him focused on the workout rather than thinking of Moneypenny.

Or Natalie.

He bounced on the balls of his feet, dancing in a modified box step as he repeatedly hit the bag. A right, a right, a left jab followed by a right uppercut. On he went, striking at the big stuffed sack until he felt the skin of his right hand split wide over the knuckles.
 

Wiping at the sweat burning his eyes, he didn’t care that he probably smeared blood all over his face. “Damn it.”

Bennett stepped out from behind the bag, eyeing the wound dripping all over the mat.
 

“I’d say that’s enough.”

“I’m finished when I say so, not you.”

Bennett raised his palms outward. “Pax. I’m not the enemy.”

“Leave it to you to spout Latin when I’m in the mood to be primal. God, you and Devvie are a match made in nerd heaven.”

“Thank you,” Bennett grinned. “Let’s get you and the mat cleaned up. Then you can tell Uncle Bennett all about it over some kale juice.”

“I’d rather have a beer,” Dom grumbled.
 

“No beer. I have a feeling that would be like throwing a match on gasoline. You can have beet juice if you’re choosy. I’ll meet you at the counter.”

“I thought you were going to help me clean up.”

“No, I don’t believe so. Your temper, your mess. Rags and cleaning supplies are that way.” Bennett pointed at a utility cabinet against a far wall. “Hurry up. I’ll be waiting.”