Wicked Beauty

by Susan Lewis

  ‘I don’t know yet,’ he responded, and was about to walk into the bedroom, when seeming to sense her confusion he sighed and came to put his arms around her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, kissing her head. ‘I’ve got a lot on my mind right now. Things are getting complicated …’

  ‘It’s OK, you don’t have to explain,’ she said softly. ‘Just as long as everything’s all right between us.’

  ‘Of course it is,’ he said.

  He kissed her neck, and then her lips, and she found it unsettling to realize that the games they sometimes played, of indifference and even cruelty, could make her feel more secure than this tenderness. With most couples it was the other way round, but they’d never been like most couples. They had something different, unique. She’d always loved the air of mystery and intrigue he presented, and the sense of danger that maybe she’d invented, but maybe not. It didn’t matter, because it had added an edge to their marriage that had kept everything fresh and exciting and gloriously unpredictable. They’d never find that with anyone else, so no matter what the truth of these rumours, she just couldn’t believe that he, whether playing Mr Jekyll or Mr Hyde, would be any more willing to let it go than she was.

  Leaving her to dry her hair, he went into the dressing room to sort out his attire for the evening. It wasn’t black tie, but if the long, silver gown hanging outside her closet was anything to go by, he guessed he’d have to make some sort of effort. The Versace suit would probably do it, she’d always preferred it to the others, so at least that was something he could get right. As far as everything else went he was screwing up big time, and he knew it. Regrettably not only with her, for just about every other aspect of his life felt as though it was sliding out of control too.

  Starting to pull back a closet door he suddenly pushed a fist silently against it. Why the hell was nothing ever simple? The Dubai operation should have been a walkover, everything should be moving on to the next phase now, but he’d just heard from Rudy that there was a chance they were going to be called back. He’d know some time in the next few days, but in the meantime he should carry on as planned. Well wasn’t that just dandy? Here he was with a wife whose insecurity was driving him crazy, a widow who was in danger of being confronted by her dead husband’s mistress, and a vanished reporter who had every colleague this side of a print run chasing him down. So exactly what was planned about any of this, he wanted to know? Just how was he supposed to sort any of it out if he had to to take off again in the middle of it all, like the idiot who yelled fire then abandoned the chaos. And talk about the gang who couldn’t shoot straight, because that was how they were all starting to look. It just wasn’t credible that no one had found Katherine Sumner yet, and the fact that she was now throwing in a few moves of her own was just plain crazy. Of course the race was on for who got to her first, the Franz Koehler A team, or the police, and he knew where his money was, but for now he was just to carry on as planned.

  A few hours later, after forcing himself to detach from at least some of the stress, he was at the end of shoot party, and even managing to relax and enjoy it, mainly thanks to the salsa band the film’s publicist had booked for the evening. The wine helped too, and he was glad to be spending some time with Anna and Robert Maxton, who he felt he knew a lot better than he actually did. It was amazing how the four of them could sit there over dinner, chatting and laughing, as though there were nothing unusual going on in their relationships, no unspoken text behind the words they uttered, no anxiety on Anna’s part, or guilt on his. He was longing to ask her about Rachel, to find out if she knew anything of what had happened in the Caribbean, but he guessed that if she did her manner towards him would be rather colder than it was. If anything she seemed relieved he was there, so for her sake he felt glad that he was. He watched Robert talking to Stacey, and felt sorry for the way she led him on, then relieved when she got up to do the rounds of the other tables, excelling in her usual fashion at making the lamest jokester feel like a stand-up comic, and the plainest woman glow like a débutante. Social skills were second nature to her, so he didn’t imagine for one minute that anyone but him was managing to detect the edginess that she was so expertly hiding.

  But Petey could see it – from across the room where he was seated at a table with a handful of dressers, his beady eyes were moving between Stacey and her husband, sensing the strain and trying to gauge whether the initial rounds had been fired over the Killian rumours. When he’d driven her back into London earlier, after tactfully waiting until she’d shot her last scene before breaking the news, she’d been adamant that she wasn’t going to bring it up, that she wasn’t even going to entertain the idea that he’d been unfaithful, because she just knew he hadn’t. For a woman with an ego the size of Stacey’s that might be easier to believe than for some, and bully for her that she was managing to stay so calm, but she definitely had some high-charged jitters going on in the heart department, he could tell, despite the I’m-so-blessed-and-happy show – and the way Chris was watching her suggested that he wasn’t entirely relaxed either. So, Petey was musing anxiously, unless it turned out that there really was nothing to worry about, they could be building up for a bit of an explosion some time soon, and he wasn’t at all sure he wanted to hang around for it. There was just too much risk of the little boxes getting dragged into the action.

  ‘Chris, how about a dance?’ Anna said, putting her wine glass down for Robert to refill.

  His eyes filled with surprise and pleasure. ‘I’d love to,’ he responded, and getting to his feet, he swept her out on to the floor where several of the cast and crew were wiggling and writhing in their attempts at salsa.

  Once again it was right on the tip of his tongue to ask about Rachel, but instead he said, ‘So how did it all go with the film in the end? Is everyone happy?’

  ‘Yes, I think so,’ she answered, trying not to tread on his toes. ‘We start editing in earnest a week from Monday.’

  As she spoke she was glancing over to where Robert was chatting with Bryn Walker and his boyfriend, who’d come to sit at their table. He seemed to be having a good time, and had handled sitting at a table with Stacey and her husband much better than she’d dared hope. He’d even eaten a full meal, which was more than she’d managed, so maybe she should have been the one to take Valium before coming, instead of just giving it to him.

  ‘I hear Ernesto’s portraits are almost finished,’ Chris said. ‘Have you seen them yet?’

  ‘A couple, yes,’ she answered. ‘They’re Ernesto at his best. Did Stacey ask you about putting on the exhibition?’

  ‘Yes, she did, and I’m happy to take a look,’ he responded.

  Surprised that he hadn’t leapt at an opportunity most dealers, without even viewing the product, would shoot real bullets for, she followed the direction of his eyes to where Stacey was now sitting with some of the crew, apparently enjoying their attention as much as their stories. That dress, she thought dismally, is one of the most exquisite I’ve ever seen. With its figure-hugging sweep to the floor, tight-fitting sleeves and drop-back right down to the very top of her bottom, Stacey could hardly look more elegant, or desirable. Whereas she, Anna, felt faintly ridiculous, and dowdy, in an ankle-length black dress that was cut too low at the front, and barely fitted her now she’d lost so much weight. If there had been time she’d have bought something new for the occasion, but there hadn’t, and before they’d come out Robert had insisted she’d never looked lovelier. What was he thinking now he’d seen her next to Stacey?

  ‘So,’ she said, turning back to Chris as Stacey cast a crafty look in their direction, ‘how long are you going to be in London?’

  ‘Actually, I’m going down to Cornwall tomorrow,’ he answered.

  Anna’s heart soared. With any luck, he’d take his wife with him.

  ‘I’ve met your sister a few times lately,’ he said, chattily. ‘I don’t expect she’s mentioned it, though.’

  ‘No, she hasn’t,’ Anna responded, sur
prised. ‘Is your house near hers, then?’

  ‘Not far. On the road to Kynance.’

  ‘Really? For some reason I’d always imagined it to be on the north coast somewhere,’ she said, not too sure how she felt about Stacey Greene being such a near neighbour of Rachel’s. It could put a whole different complexion on future visits, which was horrible when they’d always loved going to stay in Cornwall.

  ‘I hadn’t realized her cottage was right in Killian,’ Chris was saying.

  ‘Oh, yes, up on the headland,’ she responded. ‘It’s been in her husband’s family for years.’

  ‘So she mentioned.’

  He was smiling, and she couldn’t help thinking how incredibly good-looking he was. It was the very first thing anyone ever noticed about him, and it was hard to stop noticing when his looks, in a male sense, even rivalled his wife’s. Though his character, she felt, was quite different, but since this was only the second or third time she’d ever met him, she was in no real position to judge. Maybe she’d ask Rachel …

  ‘Oh,’ she laughed as the music changed and he twirled her round. ‘I’m not as good at this as you are,’ she said, trying to pick up the rhythm.

  ‘Nonsense. You’re better than Selina Cordova.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘It’s a name I just made up.’

  Laughing, she looked round to see if Robert was dancing now, but he was still talking to Bryn, which might have pleased her had Stacey not returned to the table and draped an arm round his shoulders. Even from where she was dancing she could see the flush of his pleasure, and confusion, and though she knew it was unlikely he’d do anything to disgrace himself, or her, in public, she felt miserable and afraid, for having a rival as beautiful as Stacey wasn’t easy, no matter how often he insisted he loved her.

  ‘Do you have any plans to visit Cornwall yourself any time soon?’ Chris asked, as she turned back.

  ‘I’d like to,’ she said. ‘But it’s difficult, with the children being back at school, and with the postproduction schedule we’ve got.’ She laughed a little too brightly. ‘The shoot might be over, but now the hard work begins.’ And she wasn’t kidding, because they were about to embark on endless weeks of viewing almost nothing but Stacey Greene in various states of undress.

  He was on the point of responding when Stacey brushed past with one of the camera crew. ‘Hello, darling,’ she murmured, flicking a quick glance at Anna.

  Chris’s eyes followed her, then narrowed as she began shimmying round her partner.

  Loving the feel of him watching her, and wanting to remind him just how sexy she was, Stacey put all the tease and seduction she could muster into the dance. She was sure it was something he would appreciate, since music and dance were two great loves of his, and they certainly performed both beautifully together. In fact, she was considering asking him to sing a duet with her later, she just hadn’t decided on the song yet, but it would be something soulful and romantic, a Roberta Flack sort of antidote to tongue-wagging syndrome.

  ‘Is this a gentleman’s excuse-me?’

  Smiling, she turned to put her hands on Robert’s shoulders to show that she was dancing with him now. ‘You never need an excuse,’ she purred. ‘I’m always yours for the taking.’

  ‘Oh how I wish that were true,’ he murmured, clicking his fingers and moving around her. ‘But you are everything in my dreams, the fulfilment of desire, the apotheosis of earthly woman. I’m going to miss you.’

  She turned to press her back up against him, and swayed from side to side. ‘There are still the portraits to finish,’ she reminded him.

  ‘I know, witch,’ he growled in her ear as her buttocks brushed against him. ‘I shall plunge my desire into the –’

  ‘Sssh, darling, someone will hear,’ she chided, cutting him off. ‘And Anna’s watching.’

  Taking a step back he said, ‘She knows how I feel about you. She understands that I’ll leave her as soon as you say the word.’

  ‘Oh, but you don’t mean that,’ she countered mischievously, closing the distance again.

  ‘Oh but I do.’

  ‘But what about my husband? I love him.’

  ‘You love me.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Then say the word.’

  ‘Leave her,’ she challenged, throwing an arm skywards and twirling to press her buttocks in tight to his erection. ‘Leave her and come to me.’

  His voice was shaky as he said, ‘If you meant that, it would cast me into an ecstasy of hell.’

  Laughing, she was about to respond when she caught the look Chris was giving her. Anna was watching them too, and suddenly realizing that too much alcohol, combined with the headiness of so many emotions, was making her go too far, she took Robert’s hands and spun round to dance in front of him.

  ‘You do know this is just a game, darling, don’t you?’ she said.

  ‘Of course,’ he responded, making a playful snap at her neck. ‘But I’m playing to win.’

  She grinned, then glanced over at Chris and Anna again, but they were no longer watching.

  ‘Uh, Rachel? Yes, she’s fine,’ Anna said, answering Chris’s question. ‘Well, not fine, actually, but you know. Coping. At least I think she is. It’s hard to tell.’ She willed herself not to look at Robert and Stacey again, but it was almost impossible not to, when all she wanted was to stand and glare until Stacey got the message and left him alone. ‘She can put on a convincing front when she wants to, and I’ve been so busy lately. What did you think, when you last saw her? Does she seem OK to you?’

  ‘Like you said, it’s hard to tell,’ he answered. ‘But her husband’s death has obviously been a terrible blow.’

  Anna’s heart contracted with guilt, for she really hadn’t given Rachel enough attention lately, and Rachel didn’t have anyone else. ‘Yes, it was,’ she said, thinking how she would feel if she lost Robert, ‘and for him to have died that way … I just wish the investigation could be over, that they could find that blasted woman, so Rachel could get on with her life.’

  ‘Yes, that would be a good thing,’ he agreed, showing nothing of the anger he was feeling. Stacey was still flirting outrageously with Robert, and he knew very well she was doing it to try and make him jealous, but couldn’t she see what it was doing to Anna, for God’s sake? Why did she have to be so dammed selfish?

  Anna looked around and saw Gloria Sullivan watching, clocking, and no doubt longing for something outrageous to happen. Probably one of her tabloid friends was already hanging around outside, just in case. After all, the shoot was over now, she wouldn’t have to face anyone tomorrow. But Gloria wasn’t the only one waiting for something to blow, because everyone seemed to be watching, expecting, hoping, as though the four of them, Stacey and Robert, her and Chris, were some kind of bill-topping circus act.

  Stacey’s smile was starting to fade. Chris had been dancing with Anna for a long time now, and she was afraid of what they might be discussing.

  Robert moved in behind her. ‘Did you fuck him before you came here tonight?’ he growled in her ear.

  Stacey smiled reflexively, but was only half listening. ‘Of course,’ she responded. ‘Look at him – wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Tell me what you did. How you did it.’

  ‘I was on my knees … Isn’t that how you want me?’

  ‘You know it is. And begging.’

  ‘Oh, I begged.’

  ‘Did he hurt you?’

  ‘Yes, he hurt me.’

  Anna looked over, and Stacey spun round.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Anna said, turning back to Chris and trying not to show how upset she was by the look on Robert’s face, ‘what were we saying?’

  ‘You were telling me about the investigation your sister’s involved in. With a reporter.’

  ‘Oh yes, Laurie. Apparently her flat was broken into the night before last. They beat her up and destroyed everything. Rachel’s really worried now. She’s in that cottage all alone, and
since they don’t know what the break-in was about, or who it was … Actually,’ she said, looking up at him, ‘if you’re going down there, could you pop in to make sure she’s all right?’

  ‘Of course,’ he promised. Then glancing at his watch, ‘I’m sorry, I’ve just noticed the time, and there’s a call I have to make. Let me take you back to the table …’

  Stacey watched as he walked Anna back to her chair then turned towards the door. Surely he was only going to the bathroom. Or maybe to use the phone. He had his mobile with him, but it was too loud in here … Then suddenly convinced he was going to call Rachel Hendon, she made to go after him, but was grabbed round the waist by Robert.

  ‘… present the glorious orb of your anus, and let me wave the wand of my soul …’ he intoned in her ear.

  ‘Stop it!’ she snapped

  ‘Ah-ha,’ Robert cried. ‘I know your protests are but a pretence; and that your dreams lie true …’

  Stacey’s hand suddenly rang across his cheek.

  He blinked.

  ‘Let go of me, you dirty little pervert!’ she hissed.

  Anna rushed forward.

  The music stopped.

  Robert’s shoulders were hunched. ‘I thought you wanted …’ he began feebly.

  ‘You thought! You thought!’ she sneered. ‘You’re disgusting in your thoughts. Just get away from me.’

  ‘Darling, come on,’ Anna murmured, catching hold of him.

  ‘Get him out of here,’ Stacey snarled. ‘He’s sick. Get him some help.’

  Anna glared at her, wanting to kill her, but she didn’t dare to let go in front of the crowd.

  ‘I don’t want him around me ever again, do you hear that?’ Stacey shouted after them. ‘You should keep him locked up, and while you’re at it, keep that sister of yours locked up too, or –’ She gasped as Chris suddenly grabbed her arm and dragged her away.

  ‘Let me go!’ she hissed, trying to break his grip as he forced her across the room. ‘Just let me go.’

  Ignoring her, he walked on, pushing her ahead of him until they were outside on the street. Then abruptly letting her go, he spun her to face him. ‘If you want to come home with me tonight,’ he raged, his eyes blazing with fury, ‘then you’re going to swear, right now, that you’ll never see that man again.’