Read Online Risking It All: London Calling Book Three by Kat Faitour - Free Book Online Page A

head down, he walked as any average passerby would until reaching the security panel. Glancing up through his lashes, he faltered to a stop when he saw the estate name etched into the limestone arching over the gates.  
    Payne Manor
    The air whooshed from his lungs as if someone violently beat it from him. Gasping, he looked up, trying to see the house over the brick walls that closed off the mansion from the rest of the neighborhood. Faintly, he saw lights twinkle on upstairs somewhere.
    Sebastian Payne lived here.  
    Natalie had gone home with him.  
    His heart thundered and he doubled over to brace his hands on his knees, struggling to breathe. Faintly, he heard shuffling footsteps but couldn’t move if his life depended on it. His hands fisted and a muscle clenched in his jaw.
    A hand came down to rest on his back. It remained, still and nearly weightless, offering silent support. Tilting his head, his eyes traced over serviceable shoes, black trousers, and a white shirt. He straightened.  
    Frank was staring at him. Kindness and something else, worry maybe, creased his forehead. Tentatively, he moved his hand to lightly circle Dominic’s bicep. “C’mon now, Mr. Dominic. Follow me.”
    He led him back across the street as if Dominic weren’t capable of doing it himself.
    He wasn’t.
    Unconsciously, he rubbed the place over his heart, trying without success to ease the pounding ache. Guilt, anguish, and defeat crashed around in his head, vying for supremacy. He was gutted, unable to function.
    He loved her.
    As he’d never loved another woman, he was helplessly, hopelessly in love with Natalie.  
    And he’d only realized it after it was far too late.  
    His phone buzzed, and he fumbled it out of his pocket. A fool, he allowed a latent hope to convince him it might be Nat.
    Dominic absently unlocked the screen. With three words, he realized the evening was not finished with its surprises.
    Answer. It’s Madeleine.
    ***
    Madeleine Price, also known as MP, also known as Moneypenny, patiently counted the seconds after sending her message, determined to ignore the nerves fluttering inside her stomach.
    She made it to twelve.
    Her phone, the one rarely used, buzzed insistently. Of course, it was Dominic. She texted him twelve seconds ago, signing off with a name she never used with him. She hadn’t realized how shaky it would make her. She quickly smoothed her hands down her thighs and took the call.
    “Yes?”
    “MP.”  
    She released the breath she’d been unaware she was holding. “Dom.” Two names, both shortened but for very different reasons. “Thank you for calling me back.”
    He didn’t answer, but she clearly heard his unsteady breathing. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
    Silence. Then he cleared his throat. “Nothing,” his voice was raspy. He started again. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
    “Something’s wrong . I can hear it through the line. Tell me you’re okay.” Growing panic made her irrational. “Are you hurt? Tell me what’s wrong,” she pleaded. Her eyes darted around his penthouse, taking in the minimal, stark design. Suddenly aware that nothing of her surroundings was hers, she shifted from the low profile leather couch to the floor.
    He was quick to answer, obviously catching on to her distress. “Moneypenny, it’s okay.” His voice was firmer, and he sounded more like the man she knew. “I got a bit of a shock right before you called. I—I haven’t processed it yet.”
    She’d never heard Dominic Martin less than sure of himself. “Do you want to talk about it?” Restlessly, she sifted her fingers through the shaggy pile of the area rug. Warmth from the heated floors seeped into her, chasing away the chills.
    “No.” Unequivocal. “Tell me why you’re calling and texting.”
    She abruptly focused. Taken aback, she pulled the phone away from her ear to stare at it. She brought it close again and answered with slow deliberation. “Dominic. You