The Price of Winning: London Calling Book Four (12 page)

Which were few and getting farther between.

He squinted a little then shifted his tablet so the bright sun wasn’t creating a glare. “Then whom were you talking to?” His tone was absent, distracted. He never looked up.

“Sylvia.” Madeleine ground out the word. “The woman fetching and carrying everything so it’s within reach of your kingly fingertips.” That brought his head up. “Do you even know the names of your staff?” His forehead creased. “Do you know you
have
staff?”

He sighed, flipping the cover shut on his tablet. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you, Madeleine.”

“I’m going insane here, cooped up all the time. I’ve decided to go back to work for Dominic.” She ignored the small voice in her head reminding her she’d been a virtual recluse before.

Sebastian sat up straighter, impatiently moving his plate and silver cutlery to the side. “Forgive me, but I don’t see how being a virtual assistant gets you out of the house.”

She was so weary of the way he addressed her, talked to her. “Why do you have to be so formal?”

His eyebrows rose. “I’m sorry?”

“There,” she pointed her finger. “Like that. Why can’t you just talk to me like a normal human being?” She lowered her voice, aware she was speaking too loudly. “Like you did in Chicago?”

He tugged at the cuff of his shirt. “Chicago was different. Extraordinary circumstances.”

Madeleine narrowed her eyes. “Yes, but you convinced me to leave, come with you to England. You told me I needed to live, that it was the best way to honor my parents.” Outside, a cloud drifted over the sun, giving them a brief moment of shade.

He sighed heavily, his gaze flicking upward as the sun came out again. “Are you complaining about your living conditions?” His eyes toured the conservatory, as if emphasizing the absurdity of such a suggestion.

“No, of course not.” His lips tilted in a tiny imitation of a smirk, and she felt her temper shoot up again. The man was maddening. She tapped her foot against the slate pavers. “But you have to admit, it’s so sterile!” The words burst out of her, held in for too long.
 

Sebastian rubbed his brow, as if she were giving him a headache. “I’m sorry you don’t like my home, Madeleine.”
 

Her face heated. “It’s not that.” She swatted her hand in the air, frustrated. “Look around us, Bas.” It was the first time she’d used the abbreviated form of his name, and she thought she saw some of the tension leave him. “Your home is beautiful, yes. Gorgeous. But we sit inside a conservatory when we could be outside, in the air and sunshine. I can see the birds, but I can’t hear their song. I can admire your gardens but can’t smell the flowers.” She stuttered to a stop. Bas was staring at her, his face arrested.

He cleared his throat. “Madeleine,” he began, “no-one has locked you inside here. You’re free to come and go at will. You can’t possibly be suggesting you’re lonely in a city the size of London?”

She fidgeted, drumming her fingers on the tabletop. The sun continued to beat down on them through the glass panes of the room. She felt sweat begin to bead above her top lip. “I don’t want to go out with a bodyguard, Bas.” Her eyes pleaded with him. He’d hired the man shortly after her arrival, insisting she be accompanied at all times outside the estate.

“
Simon
is here to make you feel safe.” Sebastian said the name pointedly, as if to indicate he did, in fact, know the man’s name. “And he’s good company for you. He seemed likable enough to me.”

Madeleine gaped. The man really was beyond the pale. “I can make my own friends, thank you. And while he is nice, yes, Simon is still my
bodyguard
.”
 

Sebastian linked his hands on the table and looked upward, deliberately closing his eyes while taking a long breath. Madeleine wondered how he kept so cool in his buttoned-up shirt and tie when she was boiling in a sleeveless shift.

Probably because he was made of ice.

He opened his eyes, impaling her with his dark stare. But his voice was calm, even patronizing. “What would you like for me to do, then?”
 

She stared. Suddenly the truth was right in front of her—the reason for her discontent.
 

She didn’t want the company of staff or paid companions. She wanted Sebastian. She missed him.

“What do you want from me, Madeleine?” His voice was lower and gravely. He rubbed the back of his neck and coughed a little.
 

Maybe he wasn’t as unaffected by her as he wanted her to believe.
 

She reached across the table, but he moved his hand before she could clasp it. Wounded, she tucked her hands in her lap.
 

Clearly, the only effect she had on him was annoyance.

She stiffened her spine. “For one thing, I don’t need a bodyguard. I’m sure you have other things for Simon to do.”

“As I said, his purpose is to keep you safe. I don’t want you to feel frightened about going out.”

Suddenly, Madeleine hated what she’d become. Sebastian treated her like she was a broken thing, too fragile to handle the ordinary routines of life. And before him, she realized her parents had done the same.
 

It was her fault. Of course, no one thought her capable of coping. She hadn’t been.

Madeleine’s stomach hardened, the fruit she’d eaten earlier churning to acid.
 

She squeezed her fingers together tightly. She could fix this, starting today.

“Bas, if I promise to go out every day, even if it’s only for a walk, will you please take away Simon?” She stated the request slowly and clearly, keeping the emotions beating around her chest in check.

His eye twitched, his face otherwise expressionless. “I made a promise to myself to take care of you. To make sure nothing bad happened to you while you’re here.”

Madeleine’s heart sank. She didn’t want him to see her as a burden he’d adopted. She wasn’t some orphaned waif without any sense of self-preservation.

She wasn’t.

“I won’t agree to it.” She forced herself to make direct eye contact. “I
didn’t
agree to Simon, and I can’t show you he’s unnecessary if you don’t give me a chance.”
 

Sebastian’s eyes flickered, and Madeleine thought he might be wavering. She pressed on. “
You
don’t have a bodyguard.”

He surprised her by leaning back and guffawing. His mouth quirked. “I don’t need one.”

Well, no. He didn’t.
 

“I’m only concerned with your safety, you know. I want what’s best for you.”

He was treating her like she was a child. Madeleine couldn’t imagine a man less like a benevolent grandfather. She fanned her face, determined to make her point.

“There’s a difference between safe and smothered, Bas. And ultimately, it’s my decision. Find another purpose for Simon.”

He tapped his lip.
 

Madeleine pressed her advantage. “You’re the one that suggested self-defense. I thought you were going to teach me to fight?”

A dull flush spread across his cheekbones. Madeleine’s mouth fell open before she snapped it shut again.
 

Was he embarrassed?

He ran a hand beneath his collar, twisting his tie askew. “I’ll think about it. I’m not sure you’re ready.” His voice was hoarse.

Madeleine had the distinct impression he was the one not ready. But that was absurd.

Wasn’t it?

“Surely I’m the one to decide if I’m ready? Yes?” She had him. She knew it.

He stood and pushed his chair under the breakfast table, avoiding her eyes.

“Bas?”

He didn’t look at her, but the flush deepened.

“I said I’ll think about it.”
 

He hurried out of the conservatory without saying goodbye, nearly tripping over his chair on the way. Madeleine watched him go, a smile spreading across her face. She tipped her head back, looking out the windows to the bright-blue sky and laughed until she was breathless.

***

Sebastian gathered the white pants, jacket, and belt of a traditional judogi into his arms. It was the uniform for judo, but he figured it would work well for his training sessions with Madeleine.
 

The sun was barely up, but he’d already trained for over an hour in the gym downstairs. He’d gone through his solo routine of exercises designed to keep his body lean and toned. He was bulky for traditional martial arts. His build was ideal for Krav Maga. The fighting technique was dirtier, more primal.

That also suited Sebastian better.

He stood outside Madeleine’s door in the wing where her private quarters were located. Natalie had lived here before moving in with Dominic, and he’d considered it perfect for Madeleine. It afforded her privacy and rooms that were all her own.

Unfortunately, Sebastian didn’t plan for his own need for space. Madeleine was everywhere, her presence inescapable. He could walk into a room and know she’d been there by the traces of scent she left behind.

Wild roses and bergamot.
 

It was both intoxicating and familiar, just like her. More than once he’d caught himself on the verge of asking her out, like he had on Jersey. Thank God she’d turned him down. She was the last kind of woman he should be involved with. She was too wounded. He would hurt her, and then he wouldn’t be able to stand what he’d done. Sebastian couldn’t afford to have another woman on his conscience.

Remembering Poppy was all the encouragement he needed to leave Madeleine alone. He rapped his knuckles against her door, harder than he intended.
 

He heard swearing, then a muffled crash.

He put his ear against the wood. “Madeleine?”

More cursing. He leaned back, grinning. The woman had a mouth like a sailor.
 

The door opened a crack. “What?”

His smile widened. “Good morning.” He deliberately spoke louder than usual, plastering on what he hoped to be an innocent expression. Sebastian felt like he’d been perpetually caught on the wrong foot since she arrived. It was nice to repay the favor. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
 

Madeleine winced and tried to push the door shut. With one hand flat against it, Sebastian kept it open, widening the crack just so he could see her.

“Go away.” The words didn’t have any heat, and she turned around to walk back into her room. “God, what time is it?” She kept walking, as if she expected him to follow.

He pushed at the door and stepped over the threshold, still holding the judogi. Immediately, he wished he hadn’t. Her hair was mussed from sleep, coiling down her back. Silk pajamas in a violent shade of pink should have clashed with her coloring, but only made her look vibrant and sexy.

Without even trying, she pulsed with allure, drawing him farther into the room. He looked down to see her painted toes peeking out from the too-long pajama pants.
 

Bright red.

Sebastian’s composure started to crumble. He held out the clothes, shoving them at her until she was forced to take them. He was practically out the door again before she spoke.

“What
is
this?”

He kept his face aimed towards the corridor. One more eyeful of Madeleine Price and he’d back her up to that bed and tumble them both into ecstasy. “It’s your judogi. Your uniform,” he called out. “You win. I’m going to teach you self-defense.”

“
Now?
”
 

“I’ll give you ten minutes.” He reached behind him and shut the door.
 

He heard her muttering something about rude assholes. Taking that as agreement, he snorted and slipped back down the corridor, laughing the entire way.

***

He should have known she wouldn’t obey.
 

It was fifteen minutes before Madeleine arrived in the gym wearing the drawstring pants he’d provided. Unfortunately, she’d chosen to forgo the jacket in favor of something from her own closet.

A halter neck black sports bra.

She smirked, and it was the same look she’d been practicing for a week or so. Like she had a secret she wasn’t sharing.
 

Sebastian swiped his forehead where beads of sweat had broken out. A little desperately, he asked, “Where’s the jacket, Madeleine?”

The smirk turned into a leer. She reached out and laid her palm flat against his bare chest. He very nearly flinched.

“Where’s yours?” Her mouth tilted and became a siren’s smile. She walked her fingertips up to his neck then scraped a nail against one stubbled cheek. “Hmm,” she purred. “I like this.”

He felt himself stiffen. He reached up and captured her finger. “Stop it, Madeleine.”

The smile slipped, and then came back as something else, false and forced. “What?”
 

Sebastian nearly regretted stealing her smile, the real one. But if she continued tormenting him, he’d have her flat on her back. He breathed, reminding himself she needed protection, not seduction.

The smell of wild roses filled his nose. Sebastian forced himself to walk evenly across the room to stand in the center of the mat. Part of him wanted to put as much distance between them as possible. Another couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.

Impatient with himself as much as her, he waved her over. By the time she arrived on the mat to face him, he’d regained some measure of control. Still, there was a glint in her eye that worried him.
 

“This isn’t a game, Madeleine.” His voice was sterner than he would have liked, but he had to put an end to her flirting. “And I’m not some boy for you to tease.”
 

She paled a little, and Sebastian felt like she’d punched him in the chest. Absently, he rubbed at the ache.

Her eyes followed the movement, zeroing in on one of the old cigarette burns scarring his chest. Her eyes then traced over the others, like she was counting. He could have told her there were nine.

He’d considered wearing a shirt, but she’d already seen him without one, so it was pointless to hide them. He waited for her gaze to return to his.