'If you were a man I would kill you,' Dex offered, with a silky menace that made her blood run cold. 'But, in the circumstances, given your emotional state, I will allow you the one slap.'
Magnanimous swine. . . He would "allow" her. . . It was the final straw for Beth. Her head ached, her heart ached, her throat ached with the effort of holding back the tears. If Dex didn't leave in a minute, she would break down.
Her shoulders slumped, her head bent and she muttered desolately, 'Please get out.' Amazingly, when Beth lifted her head again, it was to see Dex walking to the front door, and with some spark of her pride rising in her exhausted brain, she yelled, 'Take your ring with you. It's around there somewhere.'
With a sense of déjà vue she watched as Dex once again turned around in the doorway. His eyes flicked briefly over her, his face a mask of total indifference. 'You keep it, Beth.' And with a flippant shrug of his broad shoulders, he added, 'You've earned it now.' With that parting shot, he walked out of her apartment and out of her life. Or so Beth thought. . .
* * *
Horrified, Beth looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Oh, my God! I can't go to work looking like this. Her eyes were red-rimmed and sore, her lips still swollen from Dex's kisses. She looked an absolute mess. Hardly surprising, she thought bitterly, she hadn't slept a wink. After Dex had left, the tears she had held at bay for what had seemed like an eternity had started to fall.
Giving in to her grief, she had cried until she'd thought she had no tears left. Then she had taken a long, vigorous shower, determined to wash every trace of Dex from her flesh, and had tried to go to bed. But the sight of her rumpled bed, the scent of Dex lingering on the bed linen, had brought on a fresh bout of tears. Eventually she had curled up in her armchair and stared sightlessly into the dark living room, remembering every smile, every touch, every single second she had spent with Dex. Every lying word. . .
For once in her life Beth had been able to appreciate her wayward mother. If Leanora had suffered like this at every break-up, she must have the heart of a lion. Beth had never felt pain like it, had never realised mental pain could be so powerful. . . Her chest physically ached, her stomach churned, but, worse, her faith in herself as a woman, a valued human being, was almost destroyed. Dexter Giordanni had taken away her confidence, along with her virginity, by his deceit. She'd curled up in a small ball in the chair, hugging her knees, and wished she was dead.
The chiming of a clock in the distance had finally roused her from the well of self-pity and anguish. Six in the morning. Brushing the mass of hair from her eyes, she had got stiffly out of the chair and went to the bathroom.
Beth grimaced at her reflection once more, and headed for the bedroom. Her heart squeezed at the sight of her bed, the covers a tangled mass, as she had left them last night. From somewhere she got the strength to rip off all the linen and shove it into the wicker basket in the bathroom. She refused to recognise the musky scent of their lovemaking, or the lingering trace of Dex's aftershave on the sheets. Five minutes later, she'd dressed in a plain black skirt and yellow sweater and was marching into the kitchen.
Hadn't she read somewhere that a slice of raw potato on one's eyes revitalised them? Quickly making a cup of coffee, she gulped it down, and then, finding a potato in the vegetable rack, she sliced it. Returning to the living room, she sank down into the armchair and plopped the two pieces of potato on her eyes. The tiniest hint of a smile twitched her full lips as she imagined what she must look like, and suddenly she realised that life must go on, and that it could be good again. She would laugh again. Maybe it would take a while—not maybe, certainly. But she was not about to let a man like Dexter Giordanni destroy her life.
Her determination was sorely tested when she walked into the building that housed the offices of Canary Characters. Every employer had to sign in as a security precaution, and as soon as Beth leaned over the reception desk to do just that, Lizzie, the receptionist, noticed Beth was not wearing her ring.
'Hi, Beth. Lost the rock already?' Lizzie asked jokingly.
Beth felt the colour rising in her face, but she forced herself to respond equally flippantly, 'The man, yes. The rock, no. . .'
'Oh, Beth!' Lizzie exclaimed. 'You mean, your engagement is off?'
'Yes. I'm free and single once again.' And, having signed her name, she straightened up and had to look at Lizzie, and the pity she saw in the girl's eyes made her cringe.
'Beth, I am so sorry.'
'Don't be. I'm not. I got to keep the ring—an investment for my old age.' She made herself grin before turning away, then crossed to the elevator that took her to the drawing office.
Lizzie's comment was not the first. By the end of the day, everyone from the director down knew Beth was no longer engaged. The comments varied from sympathy from most of the female members of the staff to jokes from a good proportion of the men. They ranged from 'The briefest engagement in the West', to an offer to 'ring the Guinness Book of Records, no pun intended, and register the shortest engagement in the world'.
Only Mary, her friend, didn't believe Beth's unconcerned attitude. Cornering her in the washroom, she asked, 'What really happened, Beth?'
Beth longed to lean on Mary's shoulder and confide the whole sordid business to her. Pride alone made her say, 'You were right, Mary. Whirlwind romances don't work. Dex and I shared a few kisses. He gave me a ring and I thought it was love. But yesterday, when I met him again after not seeing him for a few days, we both realised there was nothing there, no chemistry.'
God forgive her the lie, she thought. Remembering Dex's kisses was enough to make her ache all over.
'If you say so, but remember, if you need a shoulder to cry on, or someone to confide in, I'm here for you.'
Beth gave Mary a trembling smile. 'I know, but really, I'll be okay.'
* * *
Surprisingly, at the end of two weeks she almost was okay. Setting the small table in her kitchen for three people one evening, she actually found herself humming the latest hit tune. Mike was bringing his girlfriend, Elizabeth, over to meet Beth and have a meal, and later the three of them were going on to a Hallowe'en party. Beth was looking forward to it. Plus, she thanked her lucky stars she hadn't seen Mike since their cabaret act together, and consequently he knew nothing of her brief engagement. So there would be no awkward questions.
Her broken engagement had been barely a three-day wonder at the office. And by throwing herself into her work she'd had little time to think of Dex. Which was just as well, because she had heard not a word from the man. The ring he had given her she had found on the living room floor and stuck in the back of her dressing table drawer, unable to look at it.
It was the nights that were the problem. Alone in her apartment, her traitorous mind would relive the moments she had spent in Dex's embrace. She kept telling herself his every kiss had been a fie. But it didn't stop her body flooding with heat as she lay in her bed, remembering Dex sharing it with her.
Sleep, when it came, was restless. . . His face filled her dreams, and sometimes his whole body. On those nights she would wake up in the middle of the night, her body wet with sweat and aching with frustration.
But tonight, Beth promised herself, as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, carefully applying thick black eye make-up, tonight would be different. She was going to start socialising again, having fun, even if it killed her. Knowing her stepbrother, if anyone could make her laugh, Mike could.
The doorbell rang and she hurried to answer it. Beth opened the door and a smile of pure pleasure covered her face. Then she burst out laughing.
'Mike, that is you?' she asked, when she managed to stop chuckling. He was wearing a skeleton costume: black from neck to toe, with luminous ivory paint outlining the bone structure.
'Who else, sis? Allow me to introduce you to Elizabeth,' and Beth gasped again as Mike walked into the centre of the room with the most hideous-looking creature on his arm!
Beth
immediately liked the girl. Any woman who had the nerve to meet her boyfriend's sister for the first time dressed in a witch's costume had to be a fun person.
'Delighted to meet you.' Beth grinned, and was struck by the laughing blue eyes that smiled back at her—even if they were set in a face that sported a huge crooked false nose, a mouth with half the teeth blacked out and a large wart on the chin.
'Hello, Beth, and let me say straight off this was Mike's idea.' The girl's eyes turned to Mike, and they smiled at each other.
The look of pure togetherness that passed between the couple made Beth's heart ache, and it hurt even more when Mike caught the girl's hand and held it out for Beth to admire.
'You're the first to know, Beth. Elizabeth and I got engaged last night.'
The ring was beautiful, a brilliant blue sapphire surrounded by diamonds, and Beth congratulated them both, brushing away a tear as she did so.
'And that's not all, Beth.' I was promoted on Monday to sales director, at almost double my present salary.'
'Ah, so I get back all the money I've lent you over the years,' Beth teased.
'Hey, hang on, sis! I haven't got the money yet, but my credit rating has soared.'
Elizabeth shook her head and gave Beth a wry smile, and they both burst out laughing.
The tone for the evening was set; amidst much laughter, the three of them ate the meal Beth had prepared of spaghetti al guanciale and crusty garlic bread. The party they were going to didn't start until ten, and as they were taking a taxi, the champagne Mike had brought with him was was soon finished, along with the bottle Beth had originally bought to share with Dex. With the bottle empty, Beth thought whimsically, she had finally closed the lid on the Dex episode.
Mike insisted on opening another bottle of wine, but Beth had had enough and made coffee, then served it in the living room.
Elizabeth and Mike shared her only armchair, and Beth curled up on a large red bean bag.
'So, Beth, you've heard all my news. How's life treating you?' Mike suddenly asked, and, not waiting for her reply, he grinned and added, 'You actually look like a cat curled up on that cushion. But don't you think it's time you bought some more furniture?'
Beth meowed very convincingly. 'My whiskers are in the bathroom.' Her cat costume consisted of a black bodysuit with a long tail, and a hood with two ears attached to cover her hair. 'I'll go and stick them on now,' she said, ignoring his questions and leaping to her feet. Beth knew Mike, and she knew before long he would get back to quizzing her about her private life, and she wasn't sure she could handle it.
Ten minutes later, Beth pranced back into the living room and did a pirouette. 'So, am I a cat? Or what?' she said with a smile. With the hood covering her bright hair, and long whiskers glued to her top lip, she looked every inch the black cat of myth.
'Cat? No.'
'No?' Beth looked at Mike, her smile vanishing. 'I thought the costume was good.'
'Kitten, maybe. You're so tiny,' Mike mocked, knowing just how to rile her.
'Fiend!' Beth cried, and made a leap for him, her hands outstretched like claws.
Elizabeth slid off the arm of the chair as Beth set about tickling Mike. She knew it was his pet hate, as her lack of height was hers, and in the ensuing uproar she didn't hear the intercom.
It was Elizabeth's voice that finally registered.
'I've told him to come up, Beth. Okay?'
Rolling onto the floor, Beth stood up straight. 'Told who? What?' She turned her puzzled gaze on Elizabeth, who was standing by the door.
'Dexter Giordanni. He said he was a friend of yours, and as Mike has mentioned doing business with the man, I guessed it was all right.'
'What?' Beth exclaimed in horror.
'Why, you sly dog, Beth. Or should that be cat?' Mike said, grinning from ear to ear. 'You're dating the great man himself.'
'No, I am not!' she snapped, just as the doorbell rang and Elizabeth went to open the front door.
Beth's green-eyed gaze shot to the man who stood in the living-room doorway. She couldn't move; she was frozen in shock. Dex was looking around in much the same state of shock.
'Dio, what is this? A mad house?' His startled gaze swept over the witch, the skeleton rising from the armchair, and finally settled on the cat.
Mike came to the rescue with his usual light-hearted manner. 'Come in, come in,' he told Dex, and then proudly introduced his fiancée, Elizabeth.
Elizabeth took one look at the tall, dark, handsome man, dressed in a formal black dinner suit and snowy white shirt, and turned on Mike.
'I knew I shouldn't have let you talk me into this costume. I look a sight.'
Beth wasn't surprised at Elizabeth's reaction. It was one thing to appear a freak to the man who loved you. But quite another to meet a very handsome stranger.
But Dex cut in. 'No, really, Elizabeth, you look absolutely stunning. I have never seen a better-looking witch.'
His deep velvet voice, threaded with amusement, grated along Beth's nerves. She watched him smile down into Elizabeth's face, her lips curling in distaste.
'Or a more lively skeleton.' He shared a grin with Mike. 'And as for the cat. . .' He turned his amused gaze on Beth as he walked towards her. 'I don't believe I have ever seen a more perfect feline.' His grey eyes raked her from head to toe, and she bristled, much like the animal she was pretending to be.
The smooth stretch-fur fabric moulded to every inch of her firm young body like a second skin, and Dex's blatant appraisal, the way his eyes lingered a shade too long on her high, full breasts, brought a furious flush to her small face. When he finally looked into her face, her green eyes flared back at him, shooting sparks of furious hostility.
'How dare you come here?' Beth breathed, keeping her voice low, so Mike and Elizabeth would not hear.
'The costume was made for you, Beth, darling. So appropriate,' Dex drawled, loud enough for the neighbours to hear, Beth thought bitterly, and then to her astonishment he caught her by the shoulders and lowered his dark head. She thought for a terrifying minute he was going to kiss her, but his lips grazed her cheek. 'And I still have the scratch-marks to prove it,' he whispered, for her ears only.
Beth blushed even redder. A vivid image of Dex's large naked body covering hers flashed in her mind's eye, and her own stupid reaction, her slender arms clinging to him as if her life depended on it. Angry with herself, and him, she pulled out of his hold.
Deliberately sidestepping Dex, and focusing her attention on her stepbrother, she said, 'Come on, Mike, we had better get going or we'll be late.' Safely in reach of the door, she dared to look at Dex again.
'Nice to see you again, Dex, but, as you can see, we're on our way out. Perhaps you can ring me the next time you're in town.'
'Yes, I will do that,' he said suavely, walking towards the door.
Beth opened the door for him with a polite smile on her face, tinged with a profound relief that he was leaving. She glanced at the keys in her hand, and realised she could hardly carry a bag.
'Give them to me, Beth,' Elizabeth suggested, seeing her dilemma. 'I'm the only one with pockets, as Mike so readily informed me when it came to paying the taxi fare on the way over.'
'That's Mike,' Beth said with a laugh, handing the keys over, and was complacently congratulating herself on her adult handling of the situation, even if her stomach felt as if a horde of butterflies had taken control of it, when Mike decided to get in on the act. . .
CHAPTER SEVEN
How it had happened, Beth did not know. One minute she was showing Dexter Giordanni out of her door, and half an hour later the same man was helping her out of his limousine while Mike and Elizabeth were already halfway down the steps to the open door of Mike's old college friend's restaurant in Holland Park. The restaurant was closed to the general public for the night in order to host the private Hallowe'en party.
Shrugging Dex's hand off her arm, she snarled, 'I don't need your help, thank you very much.'
>
Stuck in the back seat of the car, with Dex on one side and Mike on the other, it had been the journey from hell for Beth. Unable to complain at Mike's high-handed attitude in inviting Dex to accompany them to the party, she had silently fumed. The close proximity of Dex's large body had only infuriated her further. Much as she hated to admit it, his closeness, his warmth, the familiar scent of him, had set every nerve in her body on red alert.
'Temper, temper, Beth. There's no need to play the part of the spitting cat quite so enthusiastically,' he opined, grinning down at her.
'And there's no need for you to be here,' she shot back, wanting to knock the smile off his handsome face. 'You could easily have said no to Mike's invitation. You're not in fancy dress, and you'll stand out like a sore thumb. It's not your scene at all,' she ranted on.
But Dex silenced her by placing a long finger over her mouth.
'My scene or not, I could not desert you in your hour of need.'
Beth's eyes widened in puzzlement. 'My need?' What on earth was he talking about? She needed Dex like a hole in the head! She was still fighting to recover from their last disastrous encounter.
'I pride myself on being a gentleman, and it was obvious you did not have a date for the evening. You know what they say: Two's company, three's a crowd. I had to step in and save you any embarrassment.'
His mock concern raised her temperature another notch. 'Why, you patronising prig! If I had wanted an escort for the evening, I could have had one.'
'If you say so. But let us get inside; we are holding up the traffic.'
Only then did Beth notice the cars drawn up behind Dex's limousine, and about a dozen people approaching. Before she could think of a suitable retort, Dex slipped his arm around her waist and urged her down the steps and into the foyer. She knew he was winding her up deliberately, and belatedly she thought of an answer.
'I didn't have an escort because I didn't want one. I intend to play the field tonight,' she declared, with a casual sophistication she did not feel. At barely five feet two, and dressed as a cat with whiskers, sophisticated she was not. . . Anyway, it was a lie. Actually, all she really wanted to do was run home. But she refused to give Dex the satisfaction of knowing how much seeing him again had upset her.
Giorganni's Proposal Page 9
