“It wasn’t like that. Elly, please. Let’s just sit down and talk. We’ve shared too much to throw it all away.”

She’d given him a glare that could have bubbled the paint on the wall.

His expression fell, and his eyes became hard. Eyes she could well imagine sizing up prey. Hurting women. Getting off on the power. It was all there. It made her want to throw up.

Apparently, he didn’t like her expression because his own morphed into a cruel parody of the face of the man she’d married.

“If you’d spread your legs a little more often, I might not have had to look farther afield,” he said, a malicious gleam filling his eyes. “You always were a cold fish, Elena. Sometimes I wondered if you were thinking about your spreadsheets when we were doing it. If people only knew how often you ‘have a headache’, and how little you like to be touched. Actually, they already assume that, don’t they? Well, I can confirm your ice queen chill goes right to the bone. I’m no saint, but you’d drive any man to seek his pleasure elsewhere.”

Elena’s lips thinned, and she gave him a look of such fury that he shrank back a little.

“All right,” he ground out. “What do you want?”

“You gone. Tonight.”

“Tonight! That’s absurd! I can’t just—”

“Tonight, or I’ll make your life a living hell. That’s a promise. I want no trace of you left in here by the time I return home. If there is, whatever you’ve left behind will be burnt. Text me when it’s done.”

She’d stalked away and never even glanced back.

Elena took another gulp of wine. The betrayal she felt was far worse than she could have imagined. It had only increased as she aimlessly rode around the streets of Sydney, trying to clear her head and waiting for the final text. That had been a hateful few hours picking over all the signs that should have alerted her to his true nature.

Then, finally, she’d remembered Madeleine. A woman she had kicked out of her office, out of her job, in a rage. Madeleine had not deserved that. A flash of her face, the burn of hurt in her eyes, had suddenly shocked Elena upright. So she’d instructed her driver to take her to Madeleine’s apartment. She heard him, distantly, on the phone, getting the requested address from God knows where, and then doing a U-turn. As the car accelerated off again, she felt a surge of relief and calm, that this was right.

Besides, she told herself, the least she could do was offer the girl her job back.

Discovering Madeleine was out had simply turned her calm into a determination to wait her out. As the minutes ticked by, and the car circled the block over and over, she became even more perplexed by her own behaviour.

What was she doing, waiting on an assistant? A former assistant at that?

Just then, Madeleine had arrived home. A thrill had surged within Elena. The game was on.

Elena poured herself another glass, still unable to believe that Madeleine Grey, her teasing, blurting, intelligent, fashion illiterate, former assistant had scored the interview of a lifetime. She’d somehow swanned up and plucked the holy grail of interviews out from under the nose of far more seasoned writers, including herself, and then she’d placed it gently in Elena’s lap.

This would make Madeleine’s career. Everything would be different now. The woman had no idea what she was in for, but Elena knew.

How on earth had the young woman done it? How? Oh, she’d explained about her single question, but still. Had Elena asked the same question, she was quite sure the outcome would have been different. She frowned. What was it about Madeleine that made people warm to her and open up?

It had to be her charm. Madeleine had this way about her, a guilelessness that could get under anyone’s skin. She’d gotten under Elena’s often enough, despite her best efforts to repel her.

She’d originally tried to sever Madeleine from her when they were in New York. Nothing said “stay away” like “you’re fired”. Although, it had been a business decision. Well, mostly. That had lasted all of two days. Elena’s resolve had crumbled, and she’d been forced to admit she’d missed her. So, Elena had allowed her back. Well, that’s how she’d spun it in her head. In truth, she was at a loss as to what she’d have done if Madeleine had said no.

Swirling her wine, Elena stared into its crimson depths. What did all this mean? Her pride in Madeleine, her admiration for her scoop, was overwhelming. She’d rarely felt such an extreme response to anything. Her initial reaction washed over her again, and she shook her head. Elena had wanted to whisper in her ear how impressed she was and how pleased she felt for her.

She scowled. This anomalous response had been one of the things she’d been trying to avoid since basing herself in Australia. She’d come to the conclusion that she had a…well, a weakness regarding Madeleine. All those intimate blogs and late-night chats had somehow affected her.

But the preposterousness of actually going to Madeleine’s home in New York and offering her another job, in person, simply because the woman had demanded it, was a sure sign she had a vulnerability.

Still, it was nothing she couldn’t get past.

Elena had had it all worked out. She had allowed Madeleine at her side as a PA. That way, she could still have the woman in her orbit each day and enjoy the twitch of her lips in response to Elena’s acerbic comments that usually sailed right over Felicity’s head. Madeleine always got her faint half jokes.

Elena had thought they could still have a few tiny moments, but crucially, the PA role had been a fresh start. When she became Madeleine’s direct superior, the lines became much more defined. It had seemed the wisest option all around, withdrawing from her. They had responded to each other in only the most professional way. Their intimate evenings of chats were over.

It had been for the best.

And now, Madeleine was gone. Elena had tried to get her back, only to fail. This time, Madeleine wasn’t coming back, and Elena felt bereft.

In the space of less than a day, the swirl of hands around a clock face, her interesting and unexpectedly addictive assistant had outgrown her. She didn’t need anything from Elena now and never would again.

A hint of regret stabbed at her. Was it wrong to be jealous of the whole world who owned Madeleine now? They would see her magnificence and never let her go. Who could blame them?

Her eyes fluttered closed. It was wrong. Still, she would miss her. Her smile could be quite cheeky. The line between her eyes, when she frowned over something unfathomable, was endearing. As was the way she looked at Elena, past her title and mask, as though what lay beneath was all that really mattered. She was unaccustomed to anyone caring that much for her.

Maddie’s way of always neatly lining up her folders with a sharp tap before standing, slipping across to the filing cabinet, her impressive ass curving just so, as she leaned forward and dropped them in the out tray then headed off to lunch. Sometimes, she’d bring back something tasty for Elena, giving her an admonishing look for forgetting to eat, but saying nothing.

Elena appreciated that. She appreciated her eyes, too. That gaze followed her constantly, daring her to…what? She never could work out what Madeleine was thinking. It was usually unexpected.

Not to forget the fact she’d just won an international exclusive without seeming to break a sweat. The raw talent evidenced by her blogs alone was a revelation. She loved Maddie’s talent most of all. It made her tingle with delight, like discovering a profound, scientific breakthrough. She loved Madeleine’s unexpected, beautiful writing. She couldn’t wait to see how she used it in her Duchamp story.

It was clear she appreciated Madeleine. On many levels. And soon, very soon, she would be gone.

At that depressing thought, she filled up her glass again.

CHAPTER 21

The Gates of Hell

Maddie woke to the gorgeous scent of coffee. She cracked an eyelid.

“Ah,” said a voice that Maddie would recognise anywhere. “You’re alive.”

Maddie sat straight up and glanced around the room, feeling disoriented. Elena. She was in her guest room. And Elena was now standing over her, an impatient look on her face, offering her a coffee. Which she had yet to take.

“Thanks.” Maddie scrambled to sit up and reached for the cup. How long had she had an audience, anyway?

“May as well enjoy it. That will be the last nice thing I do for you in the next fifteen hours.”

Maddie took a sip. Her taste buds swooned. “You remembered the way I like it? White with two sugars!”

Elena seemed pleased by her enthusiasm but didn’t reply.

Maddie glanced at the wall clock and started. “Oh my God!” It was almost eight! She made to fling off her sheets and rise.

“No. I wanted you to sleep in, so you were rested for writing today. Now drink, then go to the kitchen. Rosetta has prepared a breakfast for you. Then you will do nothing but sit and write. Victor is on his way here.”

Maddie frowned. Victor had to mean Vic Salinger, the magazine’s most skilled features copy editor. He was heading here? Why wasn’t Maddie being bundled off to work?