Читать книгу The Bride Of Santa Barbara - Angela Devine - Страница 6

IF BETH hadn’t been so exhausted, she would have lain awake for hours worrying about what had happened in the conservatory. As it was, she simply crawled into bed and fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow, but when she woke up the following morning she had an ominous feeling of misgiving, as if she were about to face final exams or a trip to the dentist. Pulling herself upright in the huge bed, she blinked around at the unfamiliar room and memory came hurtling back to her.

‘Oh, no,’ she groaned, sinking down under the covers. ‘What on earth have I done?’

Her own behaviour the previous evening completely baffled her. She wasn’t in the habit of kissing strange men. In fact she had never even had a serious boyfriend apart from Warren. So how on earth had she found herself swept into that passionate embrace with Daniel Pryor? Had he simply taken advantage of her exhaustion and shock to kiss her against her will? She gave a low, bitter laugh. No, that wasn’t fair. It hadn’t been against her will, she had been entirely willing and that was what alarmed her most. She had always been reserved and serious by nature, so much so that the other students at technical college had nicknamed her the Ice Maiden. But there had been nothing cold about the way she had melted into Daniel’s embrace last night. Even thinking about it made a strange, tremulous warmth uncoil deep inside her.

The trouble was that the man had a kind of raw animal magnetism that ought to be banned by law. With his wide shoulders and narrow hips, sultry dark eyes and that faint brooding smile, he was a menace to any woman between the ages of eight and eighty. After watching her sister’s tempestuous marriage come to grief, Beth had never thought she would fall for something as primitive as mere sex appeal. And the way she had responded to Daniel the previous evening made her feel enormously guilty. After all, she loved Warren, didn’t she? Although there had been moments in the last year or so when she had wondered about that. Yet she had always hoped that she and Warren would eventually be married, so how could she ever have become so recklessly carried away with somebody else?

The telephone rang beside her bed, interrupting her reverie. She picked up the receiver and heard Benson’s brisk English tones on the other end of the line.

‘Good morning, Miss Saxon. I trust you slept well. I’m just calling to say that Mr Pryor would like you to join him on the terrace for breakfast at ten o’clock.’

‘Ten o’clock?’ echoed Beth aghast. ‘What’s the time now then?’

‘Nine thirty-five, madam.’

‘Oh, no,’ groaned Beth. ‘I’d meant to be downstairs working with the girls by six o’clock. Look, please tell Mr Pryor I’m sorry but I can’t possibly meet him. I’ll just get some toast and tea in the kitchen and get back to work.’

Benson cleared his throat apologetically.

‘I regret to inform you, Miss Saxon, that Mr Pryor was most insistent that you should join him and he certainly won’t allow you back in the workroom before eleven.’

Beth gave a gasp of incredulous laughter.

‘What do you mean, he won’t allow me?’ she demanded. ‘What’s going to happen if I do go down there?’

‘I have been instructed to act as a...”bouncer” is the term, I believe, madam.’

Beth choked with outraged amusement. What was Daniel Pryor—some kind of caveman? The order was ludicrous, but there was no point getting involved in an undignified argument with the butler about it.

‘All right, Benson,’ she sighed. ‘I can’t argue with that. I’ll be on the terrace at ten o’clock.’

Climbing out of bed, she showered and dressed. Although she told herself that she had no urge to impress Daniel Pryor, she hesitated for a long time over her choice of clothes. Finally she decided on a jersey suit of pale blue and white with culottes and a matching top and she took special care over her make up and blow-drying her hair. She told herself that this was only to give her confidence for a difficult interview, but secretly she knew that there was more to it than that. She was surprised and rather touched to find that Benson had included a large vial of Ma Griffe scent in her toiletry bag. Taking off the cap, she sprayed a small jet of it on to her wrists and neck and then inhaled the elusive fragrance. Her stomach churned nervously. Oh, dear, she thought. I’m not looking forward to seeing Daniel again, but I suppose the only way to get over it is to confront it.

When she arrived on the terrace she found that it was another glorious Californian day filled with bright sunlight and the sound of birdsong from the garden. Daniel was lounging at a table on the terrace reading a newspaper but he rose to his feet as she approached. Her expert eye took in the details of his clothing and noted that he was wearing beige designer trousers and a blue and beige Pierre Cardin shirt with Gucci shoes. She was also uncomfortably aware that she hadn’t underestimated his virile attraction the night before.

‘Sit down,’ he invited. ‘And help yourself to some food.’

There was a vast array of dishes on the table. A frosted glass platter held wedges of luscious green honeydew melon, fresh pineapple, papaw and strawberries. Next to this was a hotplate from which came the enticing aroma of crispy bacon, grilled sausages and tomatoes. There was also a wicker basket full of mouthwatering Danish pastries, large jugs of orange and apple juice and a percolator of fresh coffee.

To cover her embarrassment Beth helped herself to a plate of fruit salad and began to eat, darting Daniel nervous glances. But he seemed totally unaware of either her embarrassment or the possible cause of it.

‘So how did you get into fashion design?’ he asked, laying aside his newspaper.

Beth was grateful for the neutral topic and began to babble rapidly.

‘Well, my mother worked in a factory as a machinist when I was a little girl,’ she said. ‘We weren’t very well off so she always had to make her own clothes at home. She brought home scraps of fabric from the factory and I used to help her. I really loved it. Sometimes the pieces of material were so small it needed a lot of ingenuity to put them together into a garment.’

Daniel’s eyebrows rose.

‘That sounds like a rather deprived childhood,’ he remarked.

‘Don’t you dare say that!’ exclaimed Beth indignantly. ‘I may have been deprived of material things, but my mother is a really warm, affectionate person. I was never deprived of love and that’s the most important thing.’

His lips twitched.

‘I couldn’t agree more,’ he said. ‘But you were quite poor, were you?’

‘Yes, we were. My father had an accident on a building site when I was seven years old and was crippled by it. He didn’t get much in compensation and my mother had three children and no real job training, so we couldn’t help being poor.’

Her defiant tone bought a glint of amusement to Daniel’s dark eyes.

‘It’s not a crime,’ he murmured.

‘You’d think it was the way some people talk,’ retorted Beth. ‘Warren always—’

She broke off, biting her lip.

‘Warren always what?’ asked Daniel.

‘Never mind.’

He frowned and stroked his chin thoughtfully. But when he spoke again he said nothing about Warren.

‘All right, so you helped make clothes when you were a little kid. Then what?’

‘I did dressmaking at high school and won a scholarship to go to technical college. I spent three years there and in my final year I won the big prize for designing. It was a trip to London for the spring shows, which was wonderful. That was when I knew that I really wanted to be a fashion designer more than anything else in the world.’

Daniel nodded.

‘I see. And how long ago was that?’ he asked.

‘Two years ago. When I came back I had to find a job, so I’ve been working in a big department store as a fashion buyer for the last two years and doing my designing at night.’

‘And where does Warren come into all this? asked Daniel.

‘He was in my fashion design course at technical college,’ replied Beth. ‘He dropped out in his last year, because he didn’t get his assignments finished on time. But it didn’t matter so much for him. His parents own a big chain of fashion stores and he was able to get a job right away.’

Daniel drank some more coffee and gritted his teeth as if it were bitter. ‘Do you really intend to marry him?’

Beth gave him a flustered look. What business was it of his?

‘I don’t know,’ she stammered warily. ‘I hope so.’

‘Are you sleeping with him?’ he asked.

Her face flamed. ‘I don’t see that that’s any business of yours,’ she retorted.

‘It might be,’ he said cryptically. ‘Anyway, let’s just say I’m curious. Are you sleeping with him?’

Beth was silent for a moment, too angry to speak, and then it occurred to her that perhaps this was the best way of fending Daniel off once and for all. After all, she didn’t want any more encounters like the one in the conservatory last night.

‘Yes, I am,’ she snapped.

His face remained impassive.

‘I see. And what sort of business relationship do you have?’

She set her lips stubbornly. But his eyes remained fixed on her so piercingly that she felt that he was looking right into her soul.

‘What difference does it make?’ she muttered at last.

‘I think I’m entitled to ask,’ he replied evenly. ‘Seeing that I’m backing you in this little venture to get your fashion collection together.’

She ground her teeth, unable to deny the truth of that.

‘Well, we don’t have any kind of formal partnership at this stage,’ she admitted grudgingly. ‘And I did most of the designs and the sewing for the collection, but Warren did help me now and then.’

‘And whose name is it appearing under at the show?’ asked Daniel.

‘Both our names,’ muttered Beth.

‘Louder,’ prompted Daniel.

‘Both our names,’ shouted Beth.

Daniel smiled unpleasantly. ‘I see, he said. ‘He takes advantage of you every which way he can, doesn’t he?’

‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ asked Beth in a dangerous voice.

Daniel gave a mirthless laugh.

‘That would be obvious to you, sweetheart,’ he said, ‘if you weren’t so wet behind the ears. The guy is obviously sleeping with you without any intention of ever marrying you. And he’s also using your talent and hard work to get himself ahead in business. If you had any brains at all, you’d give him the boot.’

‘Don’t talk about Warren like that!’ protested Beth indignantly.

Daniel’s lips drew back into a contemptuous sneer.

‘Why not?’ he demanded. ‘It’s obvious he’s just using you. Besides, if your precious Warren is so concerned about you, why hasn’t he come here to find you yet?’

Beth flushed uncomfortably. The same thought had crossed her own mind, although she certainly wasn’t going to admit that to Daniel.

‘Maybe he didn’t get your message,’ she suggested.

‘Or maybe he’s waiting for you to come running back to him like a devoted little puppy-dog,’ he countered. ‘Why don’t you open your eyes to him, Beth? He’s not going to come looking for you. He obviously doesn’t care a damn about you.’

Beth flinched.

‘He does care,’ she insisted doggedly. ‘And he will come. I’m sure he will.’

At that moment Benson appeared on the terrace with a discreet cough.

‘Excuse me, sir,’ he said. ‘There’s a Mr Warren Clark waiting for you in the den. He says he wants to speak to you both.’

Beth shot Daniel a triumphant look and felt a thrill of malicious pleasure at seeing him momentarily disconcerted.

‘All right, we’ll come and see what he wants,’ he said.

When they entered the den, Warren was standing with one elbow propped on the mantelpiece and his back to the door, but he turned at the sound of their footsteps. He was only of medium height, but his body was so gracefully proportioned that he seemed taller. He was extremely handsome in an almost effeminate way, with toffee-brown eyes and long silky brown hair that was cut in two layers so that a long curtain of it kept falling forward over his face. Privately Beth had never much liked the style, since it meant that Warren had to continually push his hair back from his forehead with a flicking movement of his head. He did so now. There was no mistaking the displeasure in his face.

‘What the hell are you doing here, Beth?’ he demanded without preamble.

Beth opened her mouth to speak, but found herself foiled by Daniel who immediately took control of the situation.

‘Sit down, Beth,’ he ordered with a hint of steel in his voice. And he turned to Warren, his dark eyes narrowed and his face unsmiling. ‘My name is Daniel Pryor. I guess you’ve come here to apologise for the accident yesterday.’

‘No, I haven’t!’ grated Warren indignantly. ‘You’re the one who rammed me. And let me tell you, you’re going to pay for it, pay dearly.’

‘Is that so?’ purred Daniel. ‘Well, it seems to me, Mr Clark, your manners are about as poor as your seamanship. I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but the law quite clearly states that a boat under power must always give way to a boat under sail. I was sailing into the harbour and it was your responsibility to give way to me. You were the one who caused the accident.’

Warren thrust out his chin aggressively.

‘Now just a damn minute—’ he began, stepping closer to Daniel.

Hastily Beth placed herself between them and laid one hand on the sleeve of Warren’s Paisley shirt.

‘He’s right, Warren,’ she said nervously. ‘That’s exactly what the policeman at the Yacht Club said. The accident was all our fault.’

Warren looked at her as if she had gone mad.

‘Don’t be such a fool, Beth,’ he exclaimed in a low, urgent voice. ‘You should never make an admission of liability like that.’

Beth’s eyebrows met in a bewildered frown.

‘Even when you’re in the wrong?’ she demanded.

‘Especially when you’re in the wrong,’ insisted Warren.

Daniel’s lips curled into a smile of sardonic amusement.

‘What a pity you didn’t go into law,’ he murmured. ‘I can see you would have been a great asset to the legal profession. But since you didn’t, I think we’ll leave our attorneys to argue the rights and wrongs of the case and decide on an appropriate settlement. I’ll give you my card.’

He crossed the room to a handsome mahogany desk and withdrew a square of white cardboard which he handed to Warren. Warren held it between his finger and thumb as if he were juggling a scorpion.

‘I get it,’ he sneered. ‘You think you’re going to sue me and make big bucks out of me, don’t you, Pryor? Well, you’re wrong, because I’ll hire the finest lawyer I can find. You might think you’re just dealing with some nobody of a student. But I’m more important than you realise. I’m—’

‘Oh, stop blustering, Warren!’ cried Beth in exasperation. ‘There’s no need for all this sabre-rattling. Accidents do happen and there’s no point being unpleasant about it.’

‘Don’t blame him,’ murmured Daniel provocatively. ‘He was probably born unpleasant.’

Warren’s face turned white with rage.

‘Why did you ever get involved with this arrogant bastard?’ he demanded, turning to Beth.

Beth shot Daniel an exasperated glance. At the moment she was tempted to wonder the same thing herself, but her innate honesty forced her to be fair.

‘He’s been very kind to me since our launch sank yesterday,’ she insisted.

‘And what exactly is that supposed to mean?’ asked Warren suspiciously.

‘Sit down and I’ll tell you,’ begged Beth. ‘You know how our clothing collection was lost when the launch sank? Well, Daniel has hired two dozen dressmakers to replace the entire collection in time for the show on Monday.’

Warren stared at her, open-mouthed.

‘That’s ridiculous!’ he protested. ‘It’s impossible.’

‘I know,’ agreed Beth. ‘That’s what I thought at first, too. But it’s happening, Warren. They’ve already finished seven or eight garments. Why don’t you come and see? Why don’t you stay here and help us? You’d be wonderful. You know what all the garments are supposed to look like and you could help me draft the patterns.’