“Not without my permission, you won’t. Rafe, you just can’t run roughshod over the legal technicalities of this inheritance. We’re talking several hundred thousand dollars worth of mansion here. We have to settle things first. You know that as well as I do.”
“Well,” Rafe said a little too casually, “speaking of settling the minor details, I’ve got a suggestion.”
Sensing danger, she went very still. “What is it?”
“How about a partnership?”
She stared at him, momentarily speechless.
“You?” she managed at last. “Me? Partners in Dreamscape?”
“You don’t think it would work?”
“What about last night? Are you just going to pretend it never happened?”
“What’s last night got to do with it?”
Suddenly she could no longer breathe. “Everything. How can you talk about a business partnership after—” She waved a hand, unable to finish the sentence.
“Ah.” Understanding lit his eyes. “You’re worried about us mixing business with pleasure?”
There was a distant ringing in her ears now. Was that all it had been to him? A pleasant interlude? She struggled to regain her composure.
“Aren’t you?” she asked in as cold a voice as she could manage.
“Well, sure,” he said far too readily. “Naturally I’ll have a problem with it because I’m a Madison. Madisons always have problems when they get their financial affairs mixed up with their sexual affairs. But it shouldn’t be a stretch for you. You’re a Harte. You can compartmentalize.”
He was goading her, she thought. She had to get out of here before she lost it. Hartes did not do that kind of thing. Not in public, at any rate.
“You’re right,” she said. “I could probably handle it. But as you just pointed out, you’re a Madison. You’d screw it up for sure.”
She spun on her heel and walked swiftly outside. Winston, ever faithful, trotted out of the kitchen to follow her. Together they went down the front steps without a backward glance.
She yanked open the car door. Winston bounded inside and took up his post on the passenger seat. She got in behind the wheel and slammed the door shut.
The last thing she saw in her rearview mirror was Rafe lounging against the porch railing watching her roar out of the driveway. He had enjoyed seeing her come so close to the edge, she realized. He had deliberately pushed her, just to see what would happen.
A wave of uncertainty swept through her. All of her grandfather’s warnings about Madisons flashed through her mind. What kind of game was Rafe playing?
chapter 14
Rafe brought the Porsche to a halt in the drive, switched off the engine, and sat for a while, staring at the front door of Mitchell’s house.
Asking his grandfather to come to dinner was a crazy idea. If he had any sense he would fire up the engine and drive straight back to Dreamscape. But then he would have to explain to Hannah why he had chickened out.
The thought of going through another scene with her after the one that had taken place this morning when she had arrived to find the Willis brothers hard at work was not appealing. He had taken a chance, pushed his luck, and, predictably enough, things had exploded in his face. He would be more cautious next time. Who said a Madison couldn’t learn from his mistakes?
He climbed out from behind the wheel and walked toward the porch steps.
The front door opened just as he raised his hand to knock. A cadaverously thin figure with a buzz cut and a face that looked as if it had been hewn out of the side of a mountain stared at him.
Bryce had worked for Mitchell for nearly ten years. No one knew where he had come from. He had started out as a part-time handyman and had gradually carved out a position as full-time majordomo. If Bryce had a last name, it had been lost in the mists of time. As far as Rafe knew, he had no close relatives. Bryce had brought order to the chaos of Mitchell’s household. He was unswervingly loyal to his employer. Beyond that, he was a mystery.
“Hello, Bryce.”
“Good afternoon.”
“I’m looking for Mitchell.”