on walking, but those eyes and the tension in that hard, lean body of his told a different story.
‘No, you didn’t.’
‘I dreamed of you last night,’ he said next. Not the sweet murmurings of a soon-to-be lover, but cold, hard accusation.
‘Snap.’ She’d dreamed of him too, her sleeping time shattered by a golden-eyed warrior whose righteousness cut at her even as his kisses seduced. ‘Jacob said you and Po trained for half the night.’
‘We did.’ No need to guess why he’d chosen physical exertion over dreaming. He hadn’t wanted to dream of her. He couldn’t have said it any plainer. ‘I still think walking away from you is the smart option,’ he murmured.
‘Then do it.’
He glanced away, looked down the street as if planning where he would walk, but his body stayed right where it was. When he looked back at her the reckless challenge in his eyes burned a path through every defence she had in place. ‘No.’
Oh, boy.
‘Come out with me tonight,’ he said next.
‘Where?’ Was asking about a venue a tacit agreement? She thought it might be.
‘Anywhere,’ he muttered. ‘Do I look like I care?’
A shudder ripped through Madeline, two parts desire and one part dread for the wanton images that played out in her mind every time she looked at this man.
Luke’s eyes darkened. ‘You choose,’ he said. ‘Maybe you’ll care.’ Somewhere with people, if she had any sense at all. Somewhere crowded and casual. There were plenty such places in Singapore. She could easily suggest she meet him at one of them.
She didn’t.
Instead, she gave him her home address. ‘I’ll try and book us a table somewhere. I’ll be home by six. Ready to head out again by seven.’
He nodded, shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned his head back against the wall, everything about him casual except for his eyes. There was nothing casual about them at all. ‘You should go now,’ he said.
Madeline nodded and forced a step back before she did something monumentally stupid like setting her hands to his chest and her lips to his throat and to hell with empires and accountants. ‘Jacob knows my mobile number.’ Luke’s eyes narrowed, as if he either didn’t like that notion or he didn’t know where she was heading with this. ‘Call me if you decide to cancel.’
‘Do you really think I will?’
‘No.’ She offered up a tiny smile of farewell. ‘But I’m fairly certain you should.’
Madeline made it home just on six-thirty but instead of the fatigue that usually accompanied an afternoon spent wading through financial statements, nervous anticipation ruled her now. She didn’t make a habit of handing over her home address to men she’d just met. Even if Luke was Jake’s brother there’d been no call for that. But she had, and she’d wear it. Wear something. What on earth was she going to wear this evening?
A wizened old woman appeared in the foyer, her face leathered and lined but her old eyes clear and smiling. Yun had been William’s housekeeper for at least thirty years, maybe longer. Now she was Madeline’s and more grandmother than housekeeper if truth were told.
‘We’ve company coming at seven,’ said Madeline as she shed her light coat and slid a wall panel aside to reveal a cleverly concealed wardrobe. ‘Can we do some kind of canapés?’
‘What kind of company?’ asked Yun.
‘Male.’
‘How many?’
‘One.’
‘Nationality?’
‘Australian.’
‘Age?’ Yun could put foreign embassy officials to shame when it came to tailoring hospitality to fit circumstance.
‘My age.’
Yun’s immaculately pencilled eyebrows rose. ‘A business associate?’
‘No. Jacob Bennett’s brother. He’s taking me out to dinner.’
‘Where?’
Good question, for she’d yet to make a reservation. ‘I thought maybe somewhere touristy, down by the water.’ If they went to the wharves they wouldn’t even have to book in advance. They could just choose a place as they wandered along.
Yun’s eyes narrowed to slits. ‘Does he not know how to properly honour a woman of your social standing?’
Madeline stifled a grin. ‘You’d rather he took me somewhere intimate and expensive?’
‘Just expensive,’ said Yun.
‘I don’t think he’s the kind of man who cares much for the trappings of wealth or for impressing a woman with fine food and wine.’
‘Really?’ Yun seemed unimpressed. ‘What kind of man is he?’
‘Well …’ Apart from the kind who could make a woman abandon every ounce of common sense she’d ever had? ‘I don’t rightly know.’
‘When was he born? What’s his animal?’
‘I don’t know.’ Yun was old school. She practised feng shui, observed the Chinese zodiac, and honoured her ancestor spirits. ‘I’m going to go with Tiger.’
‘Tiger is unpredictable,’ murmured Yun. ‘And dangerous. Tiger and Snake not good together. Each can destroy the other if allowed to get too close.’
‘Thanks, Yun. I feel so much better now.’ Madeline had been born in the year of the snake. Nice to know in advance how incompatible she and Luke truly were.
‘Monkey is better fit for you. Even Ox. Find out his birth year.’
‘Will do. So can you do up a tray of something?’
‘Of course,’ said Yun. ‘Something for harmony and relaxation.’
‘Perfect.’ Madeline could use some harmony and relaxation, what with her incompatible love life and all. She started across the high-gloss white marble floor, only to whirl back around with a new question. ‘What should I wear?’
‘A dress shaped for beauty, a smile for serenity, and your antique jade hairpin,’ said Yun. ‘For luck.’
Luke Bennett was a punctual man, discovered Madeline as the state-of-the-art security cameras showed him summoning the private lift to the apartment block’s foyer area at five minutes to seven that evening. Madeline had taken Yun’s advice and wore a fitted deep-green dress that emphasised her assets and the green flecks in her eyes. Yun had helped wind her hair up into an elegant roll, secured with many hidden pins. The jade hairpin came last—with its five silver threads studded with tiny oyster pearls.
‘Stop fidgeting,’ said Yun, and prepared to open the door. ‘He’s just a man.’
‘Right.’ Just a man.
A man who wore dark grey dress trousers and a crisp white shirt with an ease she’d never expected of him. A man whose elegant clothes served only to emphasise the raw power and masculinity of the body beneath. His dark hair was tousled and his face could have launched a thousand fantasies and probably had. It was the eyes that did it—those magnificent tawny eyes.
‘You’re no Monkey,’ said Yun accusingly. ‘And you definitely no Ox.’
Luke Bennett stared down at the tiny woman whose head barely topped his elbow. ‘No,’ he said as his bemused and oddly helpless gaze cut to Madeline. ‘I’m not.’
A helpless Luke Bennett settled Madeline’s butterflies considerably. ‘Yun, this is Luke Bennett. Luke, meet Yun, my housekeeper.’
‘Could