‘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 halfwild 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