Because You're Mine (Capital Theatre #2)(24)

“Nonsense?” she repeated in pained confusion.

He prowled around her in a half-circle. “I'm thirty years old, Maddy. I've never been interested in girls your age, even when I was your age.”

“You…don't find me attractive?”

“Christ.” It was proof of her inexperience that she would ask such a question, when the buttons on his trousers were straining to contain his arousal. Logan stopped pacing and forced himself to look at her. “I find you attractive,” he said gruffly.

“Hell, I'd like to do things to you that—” He stopped and dragged his hand through his hair. “It's a bad idea, Maddy. You couldn't play the game as I like it to be played. And I would end up changing you. Hurting you.”

“I understand,” she said.

“No, you don't. Which is why I'm going to try like hell to avoid you. I don't need you on my conscience.”

“I don't care about your conscience. All I want is for you to kiss me again.”

The bold statement hung in the air between them. Madeline was stunned that she had actually said it. Scott stared at her in disbelief, and then he turned away with a laughing groan. “It's not going to happen. For my sake, if not yours.”

“Mr. Scott—”

“I won't require your assistance in my office any longer. And I'd prefer that you stay away from rehearsals, although my partner may object.” He paused and added curtly, “Just do your best to keep out of my sight.”

Madeline was stunned by his callousness. The glow of passion faded from her body, leaving her cold and empty. How had everything gone wrong so quickly? Her mind swam with confusion. He had rejected her…he had said he wanted her, and yet…he had told her to stay away from him. “Mr. Scott—”

“Go on,” he said, gesturing for her to leave. “I came here to have a look at the set pieces. I don't want your company.”

Had it not been for Mrs. Florence, Madeline would have sunk into melancholy. Instead, she was profoundly puzzled by the elderly woman's interpretation of the scene. “I call that progress,” Mrs. Florence declared after being told of the day's events. “You've almost got him on the hook, child. It shouldn't be long until you reel him in.”

“Perhaps I haven't explained well enough,” Madeline said, regarding her doubtfully. “Not only is Mr. Scott not on the hook, he's swimming as fast as possible in the opposite direction. He wants nothing to do with me.”

“Didn't you listen to him, Maddy? He told you to stay away from him because your presence is too much temptation for him to withstand. That's the best encouragement I can think of.”

“I suppose,” Madeline murmured. “It's just that he seemed so very definite—”

“This is no time to falter,” Mrs. Florence assured her. “He's weakening.” She picked up a book and extracted a slip of paper tucked between the pages. “This is for you, Maddy. If you are able, leave your job at the theater early tomorrow and go to this address.”

“Mrs. Bernard,” Madeline read the name aloud and looked at Mrs. Florence questioningly.

“One of my dear friends, who owns a shop on Regent Street. Mrs. Bernard isn't the best dressmaker in London, but she's far from the worst. I told her a little about you, and she assured me that she has a bolt of fabric here and there, not to mention some clothing samples, that can be made into a few attractive gowns for you. She won't charge a shilling—one of her assistants will do the work as part of her training.”

“Oh, Mrs. Florence! You're so kind. I wish I could find the words to thank you.…”

“It's thanks enough for me to have a new project,” the elderly woman declared. “Lately there are few pursuits to keep me interested. Helping you attain your goal is quite an enjoyable hobby.” She paused and regarded Madeline speculatively. “Not that it's any of my concern, child…but have you given a thought to afterward?”

“Afterward?”

“After you've succeeded in seducing Mr. Scott. I imagine you'll have a delightful time with him…but you must be prepared for the moment when he desires the affair to end.”

Madeline nodded. “My family will take me in,” she replied. “They won't be pleased by what I've done…but I'm prepared for that.”

“And seducing Mr. Scott is worth that?”

“Well…yes,” Madeline replied uncomfortably. She paused for a long moment. “I'm one of those people who was meant to have a very ordinary life. I have no special talent, no great beauty, nothing that distinguishes me from a hundred thousand other girls. But I can't go through an entire lifetime without at least one night of magic.”

“Don't expect ‘magic,’” Mrs. Florence counseled, her lined face touched with concern. “That's a difficult order for any man to fill, Maddy, even a man like Mr. Scott. To put it crudely, two bodies in a bed can be a very nice experience…but ‘magic’ happens only once in a lifetime. If at all.”

Madeline approached Mr. Scott's dressing room, carrying a stack of freshly washed and folded costumes that had been delivered from the laundry cart. In the mornings the dressing room was always empty, but to her surprise, she heard voices inside. The door was ajar, requiring only a nudge from her elbow to swing open with a quiet squeak. She saw in consternation that Mr. Scott was half-standing, half-leaning against the dressing table, absorbed in conversation with a female visitor. She was slender and elegant, with pale blond hair and attractive features. She wore a rich blue velvet walking dress with intricately pleated skirts. An apparently worldly woman, cool, confident of her place in the world…all the things Madeline was not.