"Good. Let's get on with it." He pushed his chair back.
With a regretful glance back at the splendid courtyard, Cara followed Alec along the sun-striped stones of the loggia. A series of French doors opened out from the mansion, and Alec swung one open and beckoned her inside. Cara found herself in an immense ballroom. The floor spread before her in an intricate design of wood parquetry, polished to a high sheen. Alec opened several more doors, admitting more sunlight. Crystal chandeliers, like huge inverted fountains of glass, hung on heavy golden chains. Sunbeams flashed on the suspended prisms and reflected dancing rainbows on the walls, ceiling, and floor.
Cara would have liked to linger and feel for a moment the magic surrounding the ballroom. Alec, however, was moving on, his footsteps striking hollow echoes against the wooden floor. Cara felt a stab of annoyance before she reluctantly hurried in his wake.
He led her to a huge foyer where they climbed the massive, curving stone staircase. "Imported stone by stone from a medieval Spanish castle," Alec explained, and they paused in the great hall above to admire a sixteenth-century French tapestry.
Cara heard a telephone ring. The sound was so totally unexpected and out of place that she jumped. Alec paused until the jangling ceased. Someone had answered it, and Cara could hear a low voice in a nearby room.
Alec nudged her with his elbow, indicating that she should move on.
"Does anyone live here?" she asked, suddenly curious.
"Only my brother," said Alec dryly. And then he added, with an unreadable look, "You don't want to meet him. Or do you?"
Chapter 2
Cara glanced ruefully down at her baggy pullover and hastily pinned jeans and shook her head. Meeting anyone was the last thing she wanted at the moment.
"Come on, then," Alec said, and, his footsteps softer now, he led her past the open door.
"But you promised me," the man standing at the telephone was saying. "If we can't get these things cataloged on time—well, can't you send someone else? That man Robertson? Oh, he's on assignment." He turned halfway, caught sight of Cara slipping past, and did a double take. He covered the phone with his hand.
"Who are you?" he asked impatiently, sweeping his eyes from her head to her feet and up again.
Ahead of her, Alec compressed his lips in a stern line and came back to the open doorway. "Oh," said his brother when he saw Alec. "Wait a minute, will you? We need to talk."
He returned to his conversation, and Alec muttered under his breath. "You might know he'd see us. Well, I have no intention of getting involved in a long argument. I'll introduce you so you can say you've met the great Blake Martyn. Then we're getting out of here."
Cara knew Blake Martyn's name from its frequent mention in gossip media and blogs. A renowned playboy, he was often paired with this famous jet-setter or that famous movie starlet. She wanted to meet him, out of curiosity mostly, but she wondered at Alec's hostility.
"You're not on good terms with your brother?"
"Actually, we're half brothers. His father was my mother's first husband, but her second husband—my father—adopted him and gave him the name Martyn. Blake's always resented that." Alec shrugged. "We have different points of view on a lot of things."
Blake Martyn slammed the handset into its cradle.
"Cara, my brother Blake," Alec said, his voice barely concealing his dislike. Blake ignored him.
"And what brings you to Xanadu?" Blake asked Cara.
"Alec rescued me from a riptide yesterday and offered to show me the estate."
Blake nodded. Although he was almost as handsome as his brother, he was the antithesis of Alec. Where Alec's blond hair was touched corn-silk yellow by the sun, Blake's was shot with silver. His skin glowed pale tan, as though the color came from tanning lamps rather than the sun itself, and his eyes were gray flecked with quicksilver. Cara judged him to be about thirty-five, a few years older than his brother, who looked decidedly raffish when standing next to Blake.
Abruptly Blake turned to Alec. "You'll be interested to know that the fellow who was going to take the inventory won't be coming. And they can't find a replacement."
Alec's eyes gleamed speculatively. "So what happens?"
Cara felt a sick lurch in the pit of her stomach. She'd become so immersed in Xanadu that she'd pushed her grief for her father into the recesses of her mind. Hearing him spoken of so casually by a stranger brought sudden tears to her eyes. She turned and pretended to inspect a cloisonné vase on a table by the window. Blake and Alec went on talking, their conversation spirited. They exchanged harsh words before Alec stormed out of the room, and in a moment Blake was standing beside her.
"My brother is notoriously short-tempered," he said.
Cara blinked the tears away. "I'd better go," she said.
"I see you admire that vase."
"Y-yes," Cara stammered. She wished Alec would come back.
Next to the vase rested a small musical snuffbox of horn and composition, a view of Paris painted on its hinged lid. Blake offered it to her. "Here, you may hold it. Lift the lid and it plays music." The box sang a sad tinkly tune, one that brought back memories.
Suddenly she didn't want to hold it any longer. She gave it back to Blake. "The box is similar to one I've had since I was a little girl. My father brought it to me from a show in Paris..." She couldn't go on.
"So you're an antique lover?"
"Of sorts."
"No wonder you enjoy the house." Blake looked around and frowned. "Alec seems to have disappeared, Ms.—"
"Demorest," Cara supplied. "Cara Demorest."
"Demorest—it sounds so familiar. In fact, I believe the man who was coming to oversee the inventory was named Charles Demorest."
"My father," Cara said faintly.
Blake regarded her with new interest. "Your father? Why, they told me—well, now I know who you are. I was sorry to hear of his death. Allow me to extend my sympathy."
"Thank you. I was his assistant."
Blake shot her a sharp look. "You're experienced at that sort of thing?"
"I've worked with my father, and before that I trained at the Harker Institute." Her stint at the Institute had prepared her for following in her father's footsteps, which she'd wanted to do ever since she was a child.
"No one mentioned an assistant, but perhaps you can help me. I need someone to begin the inventory at once, and the company has no one available for another month. Can you do the job? Same salary as I'd have paid your dad."
Cara's head was spinning. Could she handle this complex assignment on her own? Still, it would be a chance to remain here rather than return to Chicago with its painful memories. She weighed the opportunity. She was proficient with the inventory software, and realistically speaking, she could do everything her dad would have done. He would have been proud to know that she could carry on without him.
"Yes," she said before she could change her mind. "When would you like me to begin?" This was an opportunity that she couldn't pass up, a once-in-a-lifetime chance to make her mark.
"How about tomorrow?"
Cara couldn't believe her good fortune. A job like this usually didn't fall into a person's lap. Her sadness melted away as if by magic, and she returned his smile. "I'll report to work after breakfast, Mr. Martyn, if that's okay."
"Call me Blake. And it might make things simpler if you were to move in here." He gestured with his hand. "There's plenty of room. No one will bother you. I'm traveling much of the time, and Alec stays to himself in the cabana. Stop by the kitchen and tell Ingrid—you've met Ingrid?—tell her I said to find you a room. No sense in your staying in a hotel when you can be comfortable at Xanadu."
Alec appeared in the doorway wearing a cynical expression. Blake saw him, too.
"Alec," he said, a note of jubilation in his voice. "Ms. Demorest has consented to take our inventory. Do your best to help her out, will you?"
Alec rolled his eyes.
Blake tossed a lightweight sports coat ove
r his arm and hefted a briefcase. "I'm off for a day or two. You can reach me at the Marquis Development Corporation headquarters in New York if you want me." He paused and held out his hand to Cara. "Let's shake on our deal. I'll see you when I get back."
Cara placed her smaller hand in his large one and found his grip warm, firm, and friendly. Then he was disappearing down the hall, humming as he went.
Once Blake had left, Alec glared in her direction.
"Let's go," he snapped, and he began to walk so fast that Cara could barely keep up with him. He descended the stone staircase two and three steps at a time.
"Wait," Cara called breathlessly. "Aren't you going to show me the rest of Xanadu?"
For an answer, Alec turned and sent her a long, scorching look. Cara, skipping along behind him, finally caught up with him in the loggia and tugged at his elbow. "What's the problem, Alec? I don't understand."
Alec stood in a patch of sunlight, the reflection from the pool lighting his face. He gazed down at her, lips set in a grim line.
"Have I done something wrong?" Cara asked.
He shook his arm free of her like a dog brushing away a bothersome gnat. He resumed his long stride.
"Something wrong?" he repeated, his tone bitter. He wheeled and glared at her. "No, not much. You've aided the enemy, that's all." He turned his back on her and was gone.
Cara stopped as though he had struck her. After a glimpse of his fury she could see no point in pursuit. If, as it appeared, she had stepped into the middle of a feud between the two brothers, she had no intention of taking sides.
After an irresolute pause that gave her the opportunity to sum up her situation, she headed for the kitchen to speak to Ingrid. The important thing was that her uncertainty about her future was gone, at least for the moment. Now she had a job, she needed to cancel her flight, and she must arrange to retrieve her belongings from the hotel.
As for Alec, he could go to blazes for all she cared.
* * *
Cara awoke the next morning to the lilting sweet song of a mockingbird outside her window. It took a moment to orient herself, and she lay in bed for a moment to appreciate the room she'd been assigned.
The furniture was a distressed ivory color and embellished with painted pastel flowers. The four-poster bed supported a lace canopy, and on each bedpost sat a beautifully carved and painted bird. The overall effect was delicate and feminine, and the room lifted her spirits considerably as did the fresh flower arrangement on the dressing table.
She slid out of bed and padded to the casement, where she brushed aside filmy draperies for a view of the ocean. Alec's cabana was hidden from view by a planting of sea grape bushes, but she spotted a figure gathering driftwood far down the beach. Alec, she thought. He must be an early riser.
Humming, she went to the spacious dressing room. Her light traveling wardrobe looked particularly skimpy hanging from the long rod in the huge closet. She leafed through the padded hangers and selected a citrus yellow sundress, the softest of sandals, and a flowing print scarf to tie back her hair.
Ingrid was setting her place on the wrought-iron table in the loggia when Cara arrived for breakfast.
"My, don't you look pretty today," she said with approval. "Alec's eaten already. He said to tell you not to disturb him as he will be working on a painting in his studio this morning."
Cara nodded, her dignity ruffled by the message. As if she would seek out Alec after yesterday! Whatever territorial rivalry was going on between the brothers, she didn't want to be a part of it.
She'd planned to begin her cataloging with an inventory of the dining-room china. After breakfast Ingrid showed her the way to the long banquet hall, which was furnished with a magnificent table of carved ebony inlaid with mother-of-pearl.
"We have several storage rooms," explained Ingrid, opening one of the doors along the hallway to the main kitchen.
Cara was taken aback when she saw the long shelves, each laden with stacks of plates, cups, saucers, and platters.
"As you see, we have many different china patterns, all of them unique in one way or another." Ingrid carefully removed a dainty teacup from a shelf and blew away the dust.
"This was a gift of the Japanese ambassador to the United States," she said, holding it to the light so that Cara could admire its translucence. "He was so delighted with the house during his visit here that he sent Mrs. Martyn a fifty-place set of this lovely porcelain."
Cara took the cup from Ingrid and admired the delicate pink-and-green design. "It's exquisite," she said, replacing the cup carefully on the shelf.
Ingrid threw open several nearby doors. "More china," she said. "You'll have much work to do here."
Cara rummaged in her briefcase for her clipboard and a copy of a previous inventory. "I'm ready to begin," she said.
"If you need anything, holler. I'll call you for lunch," Ingrid promised as she left her alone. Cara nodded, already absorbed in her task.
The morning flew, and before she knew it Ingrid was standing in the doorway, beckoning her for lunch and wearing an elfish smile. Her eyes sparkled behind her bifocals.
"I thought you might enjoy this," said the housekeeper, indicating the stately banquet table.
Ingrid had set the table with a frilly lace place mat and a place setting of the Japanese porcelain. Cara's lunch—half an avocado piled high with shrimp salad—was ready.
Cara, touched at the attention to detail, smiled her thanks. "I figured I'd be eating in the kitchen with you," she said.
"Not today. Too much to do. I guess you've figured out that Alec won't be lunching with you," Ingrid called over her shoulder as she left the room.
Or maybe ever, Cara thought but didn't say. At least the solitude would give Cara a chance to think over the hurried sequence of events of the past few days. She wondered idly how long it would take her to inventory the items in the house. Since she was working alone, the job would require more time than she and her father had originally estimated.
Living at Xanadu, Cara decided, would prove awkward if Alec became more hostile. Considering the antagonism she'd observed between the brothers, life would be more pleasant if at least one of them wasn't around. Preferably, she thought, Alec. She felt a pang of regret that he'd taken an adversarial position with her but was at a loss as to how she could have prevented it. People will do what people will do, she thought, depending on their stake in a situation. And the stakes in this one had nothing to do with her.
When she'd finished her lunch, Cara stretched to straighten a kink in her neck and wandered through the house until she reached the loggia. She decided on a brief walk along the beach before resuming her work.
She avoided the tunnel because using it would disturb Alec. Instead she made her way across the narrow blacktop road and descended several steps to the sand.
Today the ocean showed her still another of its facets, the water gently rising and falling in a ruffle of waves that slid one after another toward the beach. The sea was surprisingly clear, shading from a translucent turquoise near the shore to a deep cerulean blue farther out. A few surfers had congregated down the beach, and two people were tossing a Frisbee. She found the salt air refreshing and exhilarating, and before long, she was ready to return to work.
The breeze, blowing steadily from the east, billowed her hair about her as she regretfully turned back. Her mind was preoccupied with her work plan for the rest of the afternoon, so it was a surprise when she heard a peal of feminine laughter wafting from behind the palm-thatch windbreak near Alec's cabana.
Wondering who the intruder could be, Cara peered around the edge of the shelter. She was surprised to see a young woman standing very close to Alec, her sun-bronzed body almost touching his. He was waxing a surfboard, and the two of them smelled of coconut suntan lotion. As she watched, Alec's visitor raised a cell phone and snapped a selfie of them together. They both laughed at it with the familiarity of two people who knew each other well.
&nbs
p; Cara flushed in embarrassment. As she turned to slip away, her shoulder brushed a loose palm frond, and the resulting rattle startled the couple. They wheeled in time to see Cara disappear.
In two long steps Alec had reached her. "Wait a minute," he said, hooking his hand around her arm and pulling her toward the windbreak.
Cara wished she could sink into the sand.
"I apologize for intruding," she said stiffly. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything." Though she didn't doubt that Alec found plenty of female companionship, she hadn't expected to be confronted with it so suddenly.
Alec assessed her discomfort, which seemed to please him. "I'm sure you didn't," he said smoothly. "At any rate, now that you're here let me introduce you to Tandy. Tandy Rice-Tisdal, this is Cara."
Tandy was easily one of the most attractive women Cara had ever seen. Her tawny hair was long and sun-streaked, her nails carefully manicured. She had the elegant, pampered air of one who was accustomed to creature comforts. Her eyes stood out from her deeply tanned face as her most arresting feature—cool, sea green, and calculating. If they had radiated even the slightest warmth, she would have been beautiful.
Those eyes flickered over Cara in undisguised appraisal, quickly assessing her as someone too insignificant to notice.
"Cara is living at Xanadu and helping Blake dispose of the contents of the house," Alec said in a tone that made no secret of his displeasure.
"If you'll excuse me, I have work to do," Cara said.
Tandy lifted a hand in dismissal, a gesture more plastic than polite. Cara turned quickly and made her way up the steps to the road.
In her rapid retreat, Cara couldn't help feeling unfairly belittled. True, she had broken in on a moment of intimacy, but her blunder had been accidental. Or had it? She admitted to herself that she could have subconsciously wanted to irritate Alec—and, after all, who else had she expected to find behind the cabana's windbreak?
The encounter with Alec and Tandy unaccountably made it difficult for her to concentrate on her work. "Stop it," Cara said out loud, chiding herself. She sighed and decided to quit working for the day. It seemed like a good time to explore the grounds of the estate, which encompassed fifteen acres stretching from Lake Worth on the west to the Atlantic Ocean on the east.
The Beach Bachelors Boxset (Three Complete Contemporary Romance Novels in One) (The Beach Bachelors Series) Page 35
