Roberta Leigh - Not a Marrying Man Read online

  The heavy voice was imperious and once again Sara obeyed.

  'Perfect,' Madame breathed. 'Look at yourself and then dare to tell me you don't agree.'

  Sara eyed her reflection, astonished by the difference that a single row of diamonds could make. Worth a hundred thousand pounds, it made her look it.

  'Pull your hair further away from your face. It's hiding too many of the diamonds.'

  The remark made Sara giggle. 'That's as good a reason as any for shaving off all one's hair!' She smoothed it down behind her ears. 'Will this do?'

  'No. Put this on.' Madame Rosa held out a slide, sparkling with diamonds.

  'I'll look like a Christmas tree,' Sara protested.

  'If you put it on properly most of the slide will be hidden by your hair.'

  Deciding to do as Madame said, though she vowed to take off the slide the moment she left the bedroom, Sara pulled her silky blonde hair away from her face. A few fronds immediately worked themselves free and curled round the lobes of her ears and she took the jewel box quickly from Madame's hands before any ear-rings were offered to her.

  'Don't take off the slide as soon as you leave my room,' Madame ordered.

  Sara coloured. 'You're too sharp for a little old lady.'

  'And you're too bold. Be off with you!'

  'I'll be back before you're ready to go to sleep,' Sara promised.

  'There's no need. Just pop in when you get home and if I'm awake we can have a chat.'

  'I'll be back by ten,' Sara reiterated, 'so you'll only be alone for two hours.'

  'Alone with five servants and a night nurse,' Madame cackled. 'I wish to heaven I could be left alone. I've no intention of staying in bed another two weeks.'

  'We'll talk about it tomorrow.' Sara lightly touched the counterpane, then went out to greet Nevil, who had just been shown into the hall.

  He had never been to Madame's penthouse before and though she knew he was longing to be shown around she was reluctant to do so, feeling that to know Madame's home was an intimacy not to be lightly given.

  'You're very prompt,' she smiled. 'Would you mind if I didn't offer you a drink? I do want to be back by ten.'

  'Sure,' he said easily and escorted her down in the private lift that served the penthouse only. He had parked his car in the forecourt but he did not lead the way to it.

  'We're going to Ziggy's,' he said, mentioning a new restaurant that had opened to great acclaim a month ago. 'It's only a stone's throw away and we might as well walk.'

  'I love Italian food,' she said, pulling her fur more closely round her.

  'I wish you spoke about me with the same enthusiasm,' he said. 'I'd be far better for you than a plate of spaghetti!'

  She laughed and linked her arm through his. She always enjoyed Nevil's humour. Indeed she always enjoyed his company, finding him a witty companion and one with whom she was never at a loss for words; though now she came to think of it they invariably talked about Rosalyn.

  'Do you like the arts?' she questioned.

  'What brought that on?'

  'I was thinking how much I know about you and then decided it was very little.' She chuckled. 'That sounds like double Dutch!'

  He smiled. 'What do you want to know?'

  Deliberately she remained silent and he fingered his moustache and thought about her question. 'I'm quite fond of music: light opera and music with lots of strings in it. I don't go for classical stuff though. As to painting…' Here his pause was longer. 'I'm strictly one for representational art. You can keep your abstracts.'

  'Abstracts can be beautiful,' she protested.

  'Not for me they can't. Give me a Royal Academician any day.' She pulled a face and he grinned. 'At least give me full marks for being honest!'

  They were laughing together when they entered the restaurant. It was every bit as good as its publicity had led them to expect, and only as they reached the coffee stage did Sara glance at her watch to make sure it was not too late.

  'Barely ten,' Nevil protested. 'You aren't Cinderella.'

  His pale eyes moved from her face to her throat. Tell me, do the diamonds turn back to pieces of coal when the clock strikes ten?'

  Sara chuckled. 'I must tell that to Madame.' She fingered the necklace. 'She insisted I wore it and the slide too.' She half-turned her head and then faced him again. 'Magnificent, aren't they?'

  'You are,' he said softly, and caught her hand. His fingers were thin and his grip was tight. 'I love you, Sara, and I want to marry you. Why can't you at least give it a try?'

  She let her hand remain inert in his. 'Is that what you're suggesting; a trial marriage?'

  For an instant he looked blank, then colour stole up into his pale skin, making him look younger than his thirty years. 'Lord, no! What I meant was that these days marriage isn't irrevocable. If you weren't happy with me we could always get a divorce.'

  'It's very unusual to propose marriage and at the same time discuss divorce,' she said dryly.

  'I'm only trying to make you see you needn't feel tied and bound.'

  'If and when I do get married I'd want to feel tied and bound.'

  His eyebrows, slightly darker than his hair, lifted in surprise. 'You don't mean that. You'd hate to be bound by any man. You're a boss woman, darling. You want to make the rules or at least have a hand in them.'

  In an odd way his words hurt her, depicting her in a way she did not see herself. Yet was this the way other people saw her: as a boss woman ?

  'You don't know me well enough to judge me,' she said coolly. 'At the moment the company is my life because it gives me everything I want. But when I meet a man who can do the same, I'll be happy to give up my work.'

  'I might be able to give you everything you want.'

  Nevil said flatly. 'I'm hoping to make some money on a little scheme and———'

  'I didn't mean that that!' She was aghast at being so misunderstood. 'I meant love and companionship; the give and take of a genuine relationship.'

  'I am sure we'd have that, he said instantly, and caught her hand again. Think about it, darling. I love you so much.'

  She lowered her eyes to her watch again. He took the hint and ten minutes later they were standing by the door of the private lift.

  'I'll see you in your office tomorrow,' he murmured. 'We've got some ideas for the new lipstick.'

  She glanced around quickly as if afraid the walls had ears. 'How many people know about it at the agency?'

  'Only those who work on the Rosalyn account. For heaven's sake, Sara, I can't devise a campaign without discussing it. One often gets one's best ideas by batting them around.'

  'I know. It's just that I'm scared of it leaking out ahead of time. This is the best thing Rosalyn has had in years. It could make us a fortune.'

  'You mean it could make Madame Rosa and her nephew a fortune.' Nevil said bluntly. 'It won't give you a necklace of your own.' He saw from the look on her face that he had said the wrong thing, but he was too clever to apologise and instead pulled her into his arms. 'I hate to see you beating your brains out for other people. You're so capable and clever you should be working for yourself.'

  'I haven't got the ambition to run my own company,' she confessed.

  Then at least work for a company where you'll be appreciated.'

  'I am appreciated. Madame Rosa———'

  Treats you like a pet dog and feeds you bones and titbits! You deserve more than that. You should be a director of the company.'

  'At twenty-four?'

  'What's age got to do with it? You've been helping Madame Rosa run that damn company for the past two years while the young prince jets around the world.'

  'Mr Lyn has trebled our turnover in America in the two years he's been there,' she retorted crisply. 'If you want to discuss business at least get your facts straight.'

  'Who wants to talk business?' he growled, and pressed his lips to hers.

  His kiss was fierce as always, and she could not abandon he
rself to it. She was conscious of the hardness of his cheekbones, the prickly feel of his moustache and the sharp but pleasant smell of his after-shave lotion. She wished she could close her mind and feel only with her senses, but though she tried, she became more self- conscious and, after a moment, pushed against him with her hands.

  He released her immediately, though there was a brooding look in his eyes that told her he was far from pleased.

  'Why don't you let yourself go, Sara?'

  'In a public foyer?' she teased.

  'You're the same when I kiss you in your apartment.'

  'That's because I'm scared when I'm alone with you.'

  He brightened, seeing the remark as giving him some hope. But before he could make any comment she unlocked the lift door with her pass key, whispered goodnight and stepped inside.

  It was a few minutes after ten when she entered the penthouse and went down the corridor to Madame Rosa's bedroom. The bed itself, huge and on a dais, was half hidden by silken drapes which hung from a golden cherub suspended above it. It was not until Sara was halfway across the room that she saw a man rise from an easy chair beside the bed. She knew at once that it was Bruno Lyn, for though she had never consciously given much thought to what he looked like, he fitted the subconscious image she had formed of him. His Italian ancestry was apparent in the well-cut features: the nose slightly heavy, the mouth full and sensual. His thick eyebrows were straight black lines above almond-shaped eyes as dark and liquid as those of his aunt, though at the moment they were not liquid but hard and glittering. His hair was long and straight, too thick to lie flat across his head, and it sprang up above his forehead with a vitality that seemed to go with his quick movements. He might be Mediterranean in appearance, but there was nothing indolent in his manner, which was sharp and quick and at the moment faintly antagonistic.

  Aware that it was directed towards her but not knowing why, Sara moved to the side of the bed furthest away from him.

  This is Bruno,' said Madame Rosa unnecessarily. 'He arrived soon after you left. Bruno, this is Sara Vale.'

  A firm hand stretched out and Sara put her own into it. Expecting her fingers to be squeezed hard, she was surprised that his handshake was perfunctory. He stepped back at once and looked at his aunt.

  'Perhaps now you will agree to go to sleep.' His eyes flickered in Sara's direction. 'My aunt insisted on waiting until you came home, despite the fact that she has been nodding off for the past hour.'

  'I wanted to introduce you to Sara,' Madame said, 'and now I have, you can both go into the living-room and get acquainted.'

  'Can I get you anything?' Sara asked. 'Have you had your cocoa?'

  'I'm swimming in cocoa.' Madame Rosa settled further back into her pillow. 'Leave me alone, the two of you.

  Maria will come and sit with me once she sees you have gone.'

  'Wouldn't it be better to have the nurse here?' her nephew suggested. That's what she's engaged for.'

  'As it's my money paying her, let me decide whether I want her or not. And at the moment I don't. Her fussing around gets on my nerves.'

  'You'll have me fussing around you instead,' the man replied.

  That's different. You I love.'

  He shook his head and a thick strand of hair fell forward. He brushed it back with an easy gesture and then moved to the door. He was only average in height but had the wide shoulders of a rugger player. As he held open the door for Sara to walk past him she saw that with her high heels their eyes were almost level. It surprised her, for he exuded a tall image, and she decided it must be due to his erect carriage and lithe movements.

  In the lounge he walked restlessly from one priceless object to another, staring at each one with unseeing eyes. Sara was not sure if she should remain here. Although Madame Rosa had suggested they should talk, it didn't look as if her nephew agreed with her. Of course he could be tired if he had flown here from New York. She glanced at her watch and saw it was ten-thirty.

  'I'm not keeping you from your sleep, am I ?' His voice was quick and melodious and was the nicest thing about him.

  'Certainly not,' she said. 'But I was wondering if you were tired.'

  'It's only five o'clock my time,' he reminded her. 'If I were in New York I'd still be in my office.'

  'I'd forgotten the change of time.'

  He was staring at her intently as she spoke and she amended her first thought that his voice was the nicest thing about him, for he had exceptionally nice eyes when one saw them clearly, healthily white with velvet irises and long black eyelashes that any girl would be proud to possess.

  'If I had known you were arriving tonight,' she added, 'I wouldn't have gone out.'

  'I assumed you would be here. When I spoke to my aunt each day she made a point of telling me you were with her in the evenings.'

  'So I was.'

  'Except for tonight when you weren't.' There was implied criticism in the words and she reacted to them.

  'I went out because I knew your aunt doesn't like to feel I'm mollycoddling her. She gets worried if people fuss over her.'

  'You don't need to make an excuse for going out, Miss Vale. What you do with your free time is your concern.'

  'Thank you.'

  'But on the other hand I would have thought it advisable for someone always to be with my aunt—regardless of what her own wishes are in the matter.'

  'I didn't leave your aunt by herself.' Sara was beginning to get angry. The night nurse had already arrived.'

  His eyebrows moved slightly, but whether in apology or irritation at her tone, she did not know. She tried to remain motionless but was aware of his appraisal as he seated himself in a satin-covered armchair that made a ridiculously feminine picture behind his powerful looking body.

  'Tell me. Miss Vale, how do you think my aunt has taken her illness?'

  Taken it?' Sara questioned.

  'Is she resigned to slowing down; to letting other people make the decisions?'

  'She says she is, but I think she's only paying lip service to Dr Kovaks.'

  'I have already spoken to him,' Bruno Lyn said, 'and he is adamant about her retiring.'

  'She will never do that. Rosalyn is her whole life. She couldn't——-' Sara stopped as she saw that Bruno Lyn was smiling whimsically. 'But you know all that without my telling you,' she concluded.

  'Only too well. I have eaten, slept and breathed Rosalyn almost from the time I can remember.'

  Curiosity about his background stirred within her, but she held it back. From the time he was four, when he had come here from Italy with his mother, his aunt had been a part of his life. It couldn't have been easy for a little boy to live in a household of women, especially where one was so meek and the other so domineering. No wonder he was loath to tie himself down in marriage. Sara remembered the husky voice that had answered the telephone when she had called him in New York. It had not sounded particularly bright and she had the conviction that none of his girl-friends were. Perhaps after Madame Rosa he only wanted women who were malleable, with no mind of their own lest they try and exercise it over him. Unwilling to think of him in this personal way, she concentrated on the business.

  'I have not discussed any problems with Madame Rosa since she had her heart attack,' she said. 'Rightly or wrongly I made all the decisions myself.'

  'You could have telephoned me.'

  'Sometimes the time difference made it difficult. I often had to give an answer right away.'

  'And other times?'

  She looked at him blankly, then coloured. 'At other times I made up my own mind without any qualms. I assumed that if you were worried about the London end, you would either come over as quickly as you could or send someone you could trust.'

  'Someone I could trust was already here. You,' he added. 'My aunt has always spoken extremely highly of your competence.'

  'I do my best.' Her hands fluttered. 'If you don't agree with any of the decisions I have made you can always rescind them.'
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  'I'm aware of that.'

  Once again she sensed his antagonism without knowing what she had done to cause it. Was he still annoyed because he had not found her keeping his aunt company as he had expected?

  'I don't know how you run your New York office,' she continued 'but in England, Madame has always had complete control. At one time she had an assistant, Mrs Brandon, you may recall?'

  'I do.' he said.

  'But after she retired no one else was appointed and gradually I started to take over some of Mrs Brandon's work. It wasn't part of my duties, but it made things easier for Madame.'

  'It might have been better if you hadn't made it easier for her. Then she would have been forced to find a proper replacement.'

  'I think Madame considered me a proper replacement.' Sara's tone was icy, but it appeared to have little effect on the man, for when he spoke he made no reference to it.

  'I have two people working with me in New York who are each quite capable of running the entire American operation That's what I set out to do when I first went there—to find the right people to run the company and then leave them to it. It's my intention to do the same in Britain. I began with America because it had the greatest potential- -though it also had the poorest sales.'

  'Not any more,' she said, hoping that by complimenting him she would set their relationship on a better footing.

  'It didn't happen by luck, Miss Vale, but by exceptionally hard work. It left me little time for anything else.'

  She thought again of the husky-voiced female and the look in he: eyes must have given her away.

  'I didn't put the company first and last in my life, Miss Vale, but I did put it first.'

  'Will you be staying here long?' she questioned, cheeks pink but expression cool.

  'Until I've arranged things here the way I like them.'

  'That could take months.'

  'Does the idea upset you?'

  She went red. 'Of course not. You seem to be—you act as if you want to pick a quarrel.'

  'I'm sorry Maybe I've allowed my disappointment to get the better of me.'

  'Disappointment?' she queried.

  'I had built up an image of you and I found you quite different from what I had been led to believe.'