Single Girl Abroad: Untameable Rogue. Kelly Hunter

skipped alongside Luke, a small boy with wide eyes as he stared first at Madeline and then at the convertible as Luke slipped in beside her.

      ‘Jake said to tell you that if Luke’s not home by midnight he’ll think the worst,’ said Po with a grin. ‘He said you wouldn’t want him to be thinking the worst because then he’d have to bust Luke’s sorry arse.’

      ‘Fair enough,’ said Madeline.

      ‘Easy for you to say.’ Luke eyed Madeline darkly.

      Po slipped back inside and Madeline eased out into the traffic with a discreet rumble. Luke studied her as she drove and she wondered what he saw. A nervous charlatan playing dress-ups or a confident woman who knew exactly who she was and what she wanted? Because when the Delacourte jewels went around her neck and the designer evening gown slid on, Madeline didn’t feel confident and empowered at all. Mostly, she just felt vulnerable.

      ‘Diamonds suit you,’ he said finally, and Madeline shot him an uncertain smile.

      ‘They belonged to William’s grandmother.’

      ‘They still suit you.’

      ‘I like your suit,’ she said.

      ‘It has its uses.’

      One of which was to drive her insane with wanting to peel him out of it.

      ‘What do you know about Bruce Yi and his family?’ asked Luke next.

      Solid ground. Finally. ‘Elena is Bruce’s first wife, which is something of a rarity for a man of his wealth and age. Elena’s family is practically Shanghai royalty. Bruce Yi’s lineage is equally impressive but Singapore based. Word has it that the marriage was an arranged one. Somewhere along the way it became a happy one.’

      ‘Any children?’

      ‘Two sons, our age. They work for their father. They work hard for him. No free rides there.’

      ‘Are the sons in relationships?’

      ‘Never for long. They play as hard as they work.’ Madeline thought back to the family relationships Bruce Yi had spoken of the other night. Of Ji being Elena’s brother’s child. ‘So Ji’s a Shanghai Xang?’

      Luke nodded.

      ‘That’s serious wealth.’ Wealth enough to more than match the Delacourte family fortune. ‘How did Jake cope with that?’

      ‘You mean when he finally found out?’ said Luke dryly. ‘Not well.’

      ‘I can imagine,’ she murmured. ‘Was that the reason their marriage failed?’

      Luke shrugged. ‘One of them, maybe. But there were other difficulties. Other responsibilities that Jake had to shoulder that got in the way of a marriage.’

      Whatever they were, Luke didn’t offer them up. Instead he changed the subject. ‘You said you and your brother were wards of the state. When did that happen?’

      ‘My mother died when I was seven. My brother was four. My father drank himself to death a year or so later.’ She offered the information up as fact, no sympathy required, and no real expectation of Luke’s understanding.

      There was no way to describe the desperation that came of growing up in the care of the state. No money, no permanent home, no control. She hadn’t even been able to keep Remy with her. Only what would fit into a carry case and the dreams she’d carried in her head. One day when I’m old enough … One day when I’m rich … One day when I’m loved …

      Madeline lifted a hand from the steering wheel and lightly touched her necklace. That someone, anyone, could love her had come as such a shock. William’s innate kindness had simply sealed the deal.

      ‘It’s still there,’ said Luke gently. ‘The necklace.’

      Silently, Madeline returned her hand to the wheel.

      ‘My mother died when I was thirteen,’ said Luke next in a rusty voice that bespoke a topic usually avoided. ‘My father’s still alive, but he wasn’t much of a father for a while. There were five of us kids, and we were luckier than you. We got to stay together. We had a house. We had a father in residence, at least on paper. Occasionally, he even remembered to pay the bills. And the four of us younger ones … we had Jake.’

      ‘I’m glad,’ she murmured, and drove in silence until they reached the skyscraper that housed the first-floor gallery. She drove down into the underground car park, took one look at the bank of lifts and parked by the stairs. The stairs would bring them out onto the street level. Glass doors would take them into the building, and an escalator would take them directly to the gallery door. Luke would doubtless enjoy a little Orchid Road sightseeing far more than he’d enjoy looking at the inside of yet another lift.

      She couldn’t be alone in a lift with Luke Bennett right now. Not without reaching for him. Not without wanting him far more than she should.

      Luke strode through the luxury marble-and-glass foyer without really admiring it. He liked having enough money that he would never go homeless or hungry. He didn’t see a whole lot of appeal in courting the kind of wealth that Madeline and the Yi family administered on a daily basis, no matter how sweet their rides.

      He was here for his brother, and maybe—almost certainly—he was here because he couldn’t stay away from Madeline Delacourte, she of the unwieldy bank balance and gut-wrenching vulnerability. He’d seen the broken child in her eyes when she’d offered up her brief childhood history. He’d seen it in the uncertainty with which she wore those shiny stones. He got it now, he finally got an inkling of why wealth and power ruled her.

      The homeless child demanded it.

      That same child who hadn’t been able to walk past Po without doing something to help him.

      The child tore at his heart. The woman the child had become had the capacity to steal it from him whole.

      An art show.

      Lord save him, this wasn’t his world.

      ‘Ready?’ she said lightly.

      To fall in love with her? ‘Not in the slightest,’ he said as they stepped off the escalator and approached the door, where a weather-beaten little peacock of a man stood waiting beside a podium that might normally be used to display a menu but tonight held only a list of names.

      ‘Madeline Delacourte,’ the man said, with what looked to be genuine delight. ‘It’s my pleasure to see you out and about again. It’s been too long.’

      ‘Arthur,’ said Madeline in reply, and bestowed on him a polished smile. ‘You rogue. What are you doing here?’

      ‘My job,’ said Arthur. ‘You’re looking at Gallery One’s latest curator.’ The little rogue peacock put his palm to his chest. ‘Arthur,’ he said grandly, ‘has fallen on his feet.’

      ‘Congratulations,’ said Madeline, and turned towards Luke, as if conscious of having left him out of the conversation. ‘William was very fond of acquiring antique Chinese porcelain pieces. Arthur was very fond of finding them for him. The last piece Arthur found for him was a magnificent funeral vase which cost a small fortune, even by William’s standards.’

      ‘Ah, but it was a masterpiece,’ said Arthur. ‘Was it not?’

      ‘Indeed it was, and I have to say it came in very handy.’

      Arthur blanched. ‘You didn’t.’

      ‘Oh, but I did,’ said Madeline with an amused smile, and sashayed through the sliding glass doors.

      Sparing a searching glance for the shell-shocked doorman, Luke followed her into the gallery and played the part of companion and helped Madeline remove her lightweight wrap.

      ‘I take it William’s currently resting in the funeral vase,’ he murmured.

      ‘He